Two Q's on a Tatooine Side Street

That evening, the worst of the storm was dying into the darkness, and the tavern's varied patrons began drifting out to their homes or other destinations. The Commerce Guild snitch still hadn't showed up, but it could be the storm's fault. Quin decided to give the being another sun-cycle to arrive, then report back to Master Tholme.

The ending of the storm also meant that Qui-Gon would be able to get here and tell his story. Quin found his mind slipping back to their last meeting, on Ord Mandell. Obi-Wan had eaten some bad Phinndian take-out and was throwing up in the suite he shared with his master, so Qui-Gon and Quin had been able to share quite a lot of leisure time. Mmmm....they didn't spend it in a restaurant, either. They were in Quin's room, and there was that aromatic oil, and it was all Qui had been wearing...he wasn't the only thing on the menu, though. Quin found the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement at the memories.

As if in response to his train of thought, the tavern door gaped open to admit a tall human. It was Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi master and major beefcake. Quin's dark gaze swept up from under his beetling brows, taking in the man's regal presence with a connoisseur's appreciation. After a few moments Qui located him among the remaining patrons and came over to the young man leaning ferally on the bar.

"Well met, old friend."

"Well met, indeed. What brings you to this corner of the galaxy, in the company I saw you with earlier?"

"We are stranded for a bit. My apprentice is looking after the--caravan for now, and I don't want to say more here. Have you a more private place for discussion?"

"I do." Quin smiled graciously, and led the way upstairs.

As soon as the chamber door closed behind them, Qui-Gon was upon him. Their lips met like two carts crashing in the market, spilling their passion out. Quin crushed the older man to himself, his back to the door, as they greeted one another fully. He loved the satiny texture of Qui's beard against his face, and rubbed his lips in it in appreciation as they parted slightly.

"It's been too long," murmured Qui-Gon, looking at his red-skinned young lover. They were just of a height, and of matching heavy bone structure, though both moved with grace. Sparring with Quin, on and off the dueling floor, was a delight. There was something untamed about him, no matter how decadently civilized the setting.

"News first or feasting first?" asked Quin, with a hungry flash of teeth.

Qui's blue gaze dimmed slightly as he bowed to the necessity of work before pleasure. He sighed.

"We're not supposed to be here at all, Quin. We were sent to mediate the Trade Federation blockade of Naboo. As soon as Obi and I arrived, everything blew up in our faces. They tried to asassinate us before we even reached the surface. Then, they disrupted communications with the rest of the Republic, and invaded. Before they could force the Queen to sign a treaty legitimizing their actions, we fled the surface with her and a few of her servants. But our craft sustained damage enough to strand us here, out of funds and too far away to appeal to the Senate to intercede."

"Naboo's a water world? That would explain the amphibian clown." Quin amused himself by playing with a lock of that silky hair, content to get information. For now.

"Jar-Jar incurred a life-debt to me, and is bound to accompany us until he receives a chance to repay it. It's a Gungan custom. The Nubian humans and the Gungans have separate domains on Naboo, with little interaction. It remains to be seen if this crisis will --unite-- them..." He smiled gently, putting an extra emphasis on the word 'unite', looking significantly at the man he was embracing.

"So-- where are this Jar-Jar and the others in your party? Will you be staying long?"

"You saw the boy we were with? He's a slave, actually, to a parts merchant, and has taken us in, in a manner of speaking. He and his mother have quarters enough to accomodate us, though Jar-Jar and I are on the floor. Remarkable boy, built his own droid from scraps."

"Yes, I noticed the boy. But of course, you need not sleep on the floor, here." And Quin pulled Qui-Gon's beautiful mouth to his, via the lock of hair in his fingers.

With no haste, they reacquainted themselves with each others' mouths. Quin's pulse began to race, but he wasn't quite able to put aside the debriefing of his guest.

Even as he busied himself with removing Qui's tunics for him, he continued the querying. "He sounds gifted, but still, it's a puzzle how an underage slave is going to help refit your ship in time to aid Naboo."

For his part, Qui was helping Quin out of his belt and trousers, causing the younger man to gasp at the heated touches to exposed flesh.

"We have a plan so crazy that it just might work," he murmured, and bent to salute an old acquaintance which had been revealed by his efforts. And Quinlan Vos let any further thoughts of speech fly off as he drowned in the flood of sensation. His hands clenched in Qui's discarded tunic as he gasped for breath, then let it drop in favor of fistfulls of that silky hair, now brushing against his exposed belly. Qui-Gon's experienced tongue rolled all around his manhood until, with a growl, he unleashed the thrusting of his hips, to ram it down the waiting throat.

In response, Qui grabbed at his muscular buttocks, mainly to keep from being tossed backward with every thrust. The hairs of his chest rubbed tantalizingly accross Quin's inner thighs. He's begging for it, and I'm going to give it up, thought Quin vaguely; as if in answer a large hand crept closer to his most private place and insinuated a fingertip, then two--

The contractions of release began, along with a white-hot flash of ecstacy from toes to head, and he grunted a discreet exclamation, then trembled, pleasure leaking out of every pore.

They had traveled halfway accross the room on the battering force of Quin's generosity. If Qui hadn't stll had his pants on, his knees would have been abraded by the tiles. Quin sank down to his knees with him. The face of his lover was rosy and softened now by his attentions, and Quin delved once more into that delicious mouth, to see what his passage there had wrought. Qui-Gon met his lips glady, kissing back with a grateful fervor. Quin's hands roved that back and shoulders, feeling the muscles clothed in skin nearly as satiny as the man's hair.

When their lips parted again, Qui-Gon's hands ceased their own fascinated travel under the Kiffar's shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. Quin's brick-red nipples stiffened in the cooler air as Qui's tongue approached, to trace patterns in the sweat of his chest. His fingertips against Qui's back were replaced by the rake of Quin's nails in response, as he let another groan escape. Where was that tease's cock? But Qui kept his crotch away from the younger man's questing hands. Quin arched back instead, to offer himself more fully to the work of art his lover was creating on his skin--and lost balance, reeling backwards onto the floor.

Qui-Gon paused in his ministrations to gaze down admiringly upon his handiwork. Quinlan's hair was spread out around his handsome head like a negative sunburst of blackness, the sheen of passion glazing his flesh. His eyes were fixed resolutely upon Qui-Gon like blazing chips of obsidian, steady though his chest was heaving, under its swirls of matte and shiny licks. His nostrils appeared like treasure caves above the parted lips and the Kiffar's slab-white teeth.

Pleased with his creation, he paused to pull off the remainder of his clothing. Quin, at ease on the floor, enjoyed the show. The pants bunched around his own boots didn't inconvenience him, so he left them where they were.

Qui pulled off first one boot, then the other, letting them crash where they would on the floor, then slid out of his trousers and socks as if they were all one epidermis he was shedding. He stood gloriously naked, straddling the dusky pool of Quinlan below him, his shaft absolutely perpendicular to his flat abdomen, with only a few thin scars as reminders of the Jedi life. Splendid. Quin's eyes burned like landing beacons; he licked his lips in anticipation. He thought he saw a delicious drip of arousal upon the tip of Qui.

With great deliberation, the magnificent mass of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn descended to hands and knees over him. Quin's breathing accelerated still further, and his hands, still gauntleted, began to roam up and down the blond fuzz on the backs of those thick thighs. And the giant organ of Qui-Gon Jinn slid just as deliberately into his open mouth.

Qui-Gon could not help crying out at the touch of Quin's tongue, rough as a cat's, upon him. His slow-motion flight plan was hurriedly scrapped in favor of double time in and out, with Quin supplying both lubrication and suction. Quin was raising his head off the floor to meet every stroke---he was insatiable! And his powerful arms were pressing Qui ever closer. Somewhere down toward his toes he felt Quin's legs splaying wide, forcing his own legs further out. It was like being devoured completely, without any pain, only pleasure upon pleasure.

His arms and legs began to fight him in their need to thrash wildly. The result was a keening moan and a trembling like an earthquake, and then Qui let go, dissolving himself and all his cares into the voracious Quinlan Vos. In his joy at the gift he was receiving, Quin's own release was triggered, and he brought his knees up suddenly, to butt Qui-Gon deeper into his throat. They were both splattered by the force of his coming.

In the aftermath, as Quin lay beneath the blanket of his lover's body, both of them corraling their runaway breathing and thoughts, he gazed contentedly into the blue eyes at his shoulder.

"So, you prefer the floor?" he asked, with a small smile.

"Quin, has anyone ever told you how hot you are?"

"Yeah, only half the galaxy. But you were the last."

Qui-Gon chuckled, then roused himself enough to capture those brick-red lips again. Quin let in his tongue, and it leisurely made inventory of his teeth for him. It was a tasty tongue, so he sucked at it a little, causing another moan to escape his lover.

Qui-Gon stopped to gasp for breath, then said, "The bed will be fine."

With a smile, Quin led the way there. On the journey, Qui helped him off with his boots, getting in a few toe tickles and receiving a few pretend kicks. Now they were evenly matched for a good sheet-wrestle, winner take all.