Bobbing

Title: Bobbing
Author: Mechante_Salope
Pairing: WJ/HK
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Lemon, fluff, rim, slash
Summary: Hobbie learns the joys of bobbing for apples.
AN: Written for Yami Ryn Enjeru for Christmas, as I am broke. But I’ll get her something really cool for her birthday. Her requirements were Wes, Hobbie, and apples. (I don’t know; ask her.) And I know it’s not a Christmas fic, but they don’t celebrate Christmas in Star Wars.


Hobbie Klivian woke up cocooned yet cold. He opened his eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the harsh daylight of the planet they were vacationing on. And as much as he wanted to lay in bed the rest of the last day of their vacation – they wouldn’t get another one like this for a few years, if they survived that long – he was anxious to know where the hell his sheet warmer went.

It walked in the door to the rented cabin carrying an opaque bag of… something… just after he sat up, his longish blonde hair sticking randomly to and from his head. “Morning, love,” he previously absent sheet warmer said.

“Where have *you* been?” Hobbie pouted. He wasn’t really mad; his lover could do as he liked, and he had probably left a note for him. But this was the last day of their vacation before throwing themselves back into the war, and Hobbie wanted to spend as much time as possible doing nasty things to his dark-haired flyboy before their return later that day.

Wes put the bag down on the sink and started to rinse its contents before answering, “You know that fruit stand I pointed out the other day? Well, I decided to have a look at what they have – they rarely do have fresh fruit on the base – and I found something that I haven’t had since my childhood on Tanaab.”

“You spent our last morning fruit shopping?”

The dark haired man sighed. “It’s still morning, love. And I know you didn’t wake up until just before I got back. Besides, I left a note,” he picked said note off the kitchen counter and waved it around, “I had my comlink on, and I could run back in ninety seconds if you called me.”

Hobbie smiled inwardly. Of course Wes would neither go far without telling him first and inviting him along, nor would he go anywhere without his comlink. “So what did they have that you haven’t had since you were a kid?” Hobbie asked, rising from the bed and walking over to Wes.

Wes lifted one of the shiny red fruits out of the sink, turned to Hobbie and said with a raised eyebrow, “You’re naked.”

This he knew. And Wes shouldn’t have been surprised; he knew better than anyone that he slept naked. “Oh, silly Wes, you didn’t have that when you were a kid. And you certainly have since then. What are they?”

“Apples,” Wes said proudly.

Now that Hobbie was in the kitchen along with him, he could see that a barrel of water had been hidden from sight by the island counter. “Uh-huh,” he said suspiciously. “And *that* is?” he asked, pointing at the barrel.

“A barrel of water.”

“I see,” the naked blonde lied. “And why is it on the kitchen floor?”

“Well,” Wes answered perfectly reasonably, “I didn’t want to drip water all over the carpet.”

“Okay, but it’s there for…”

“Bobbing.”

“Who-ing?”

“No, not who-ing, what-ing. Bobbing. For apples.” Confronted with a confused look on his lover’s face, the dark-haired flyboy explained, “You put the apples in the water. Then you stick your head in the water and try to get an apple out with your teeth.”

Hobbie pondered this for a moment. “Okay, let me get this straight. It’s our last day of vacation together, I’m naked, we have this beautiful cabin all to ourselves, I’m naked, we have this entire strip of beach to ourselves, I’m naked, the weather and water are beautiful, I’m naked, and you want to… bob… for apples.”

“Yes. No. Yes. You misunderstand.” He sighed, then embraced his naked lover for the first time that morning (unless you count the numerous *cough*embraces*cough* sometime after midnight…) and said into his messy hair, “Since when do you know me to be so platonic?”

Hobbie shuddered, feeling himself hardening. What was it about getting horny at the prospect of bobbing for apples that seemed so incredibly wrong to him? “Never,” he admitted. “I just have no idea how you plan to twist a kid’s game into an adult’s game.”

Wes tsked. “Poor, innocent Hobbie,” – Hobbie snorted – “you really have no clue. Well, let me ask you this: do you trust me? When it comes to these things?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Then you should just do as I say.”

Warning bells went off somewhere inside him. Big bad Wes Janson has him naked and alone and wants him to blindly do as he says? He mentally smacked his forehead. Well, duh, Hob; that’s the whole point! “Okay.”

“Great,” his lover purred, then stepped away from him, leading him up to the barrel. “Why don’t you wash the apples and put them in the water while I prepare for my part?”

Hobbie nodded, thought that it figured that he’d get stuck doing the work, and started taking his time washing and moving the apples, wondering all the while what in blazes Wes had in mind.

He stared at the apple he was washing and pondered what could possibly be done with it that would satisfy his overzealous lover. He shrugged and continued what he was doing.

Just as he was rinsing the last apple, he heard Wes say, “Don’t turn around.” He shivered. “Put the apple in the barrel and face the barrel.” The blonde did as he was told. “Now,” the husky voice came from just behind his ear, “when you bob, you can’t use your hands, so usually you put them on the rim of the barrel. Sometimes they’ll tie the more experienced bobbers’ hands behind their backs, but since you have never bobbed before, I, unfortunately, will not tie your hands this time.” Hobbie grinned. “All you have to do is stick your head in the water, bite an apple, and bring it back out with you. The trick is to exhale through your nose to avoid getting water up it.”

“I can swim,” Hobbie pouted. And he was *so* going to drown. Tanaabians were weird.

Hobbie took the lack of instruction henceforth as an indication that he should start bobbing. He gripped the edge of the barrel and, with a precursory glance at the arrangement of the apples, bent over and stuck his head in the water. He started to chase an apple around when he felt something warm and very wet slide along the crevice of his rump.

He very nearly gasped and jerked his head out of the water, coughing. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“*You’re* supposed to be bobbing. Don’t worry your pretty little head what I’m doing on my end.”

But it was *Hobbie’s* end! Not Wes’s! Though Wes did seem to have more fun with it…. “But I’m going to drown,” he whined. (Luke was really starting to be a bad influence on him.)

“You really need to trust me a little more, Love. Bob.”

The blonde shook his head dubiously, took a deep breath, and plunged back in. He had a good idea what Wes was doing. He wasn’t sure that it would be entirely successful – he doubted that Wes was a necrophile – but he would trust him. Even if this turned out badly, Hobbie would always have this to shove in his lover’s face when greeted with another dangerous sexual ruse.

He started to chase the apples a second time when he felt Wes’s tongue tasting him again, but this time he didn’t pull out of the barrel. He forgot what he was doing in it, sure, but he stayed until he *really* needed to breathe. When he withdrew from the barrel, the terribly distracting tongue left, and he remembered what his head was doing in the barrel. Apples. Right.

Oh, this had better be worth it.

Opening his eyes momentarily to see where the apples were, he scowled at the elusive red fruits, then closed his eyes and plunged back in. Soon he felt the warm tongue return to his cleft, and it swiftly moved to stroke his opening. He moaned into the water, large bubbles escaping from his mouth and nose, and immediately regretted the loss of his oxygen supply. He made a half-hearted attempt to get one of the apples – it moved away from his mouth when he tried to bite it – and came back up for air.

He coughed and gasped and asked desperately, “Can’t I use a breather for this?”

“Love, if you had a breather in your mouth, where would you put the apple?”

Hobbie growled. He knew where he’d put the apple. He took a deep breath, determined not to moan, and once again thrust his head back into the water. He’d *like* to thrust his *other* head somewhere *else*, but no, he had to get the stupid blasted apple. He nearly lost his air yet again when Wes picked up where he left off, teasing and stretching his opening with his tongue, fluttering his eyelashes against the higher part of his cheeks.

Damn Wes. He knew those eyelashes drove him crazy.

Well, he would just have to make a better effort to get the apple.

“Oh, and Hobbie?” his lover called out shortly after he gave up this try.

“Yeah?” This didn’t sound good.

Wes ran a teasing finger along the underside of Hobbie’s erection. (Hobbie wondered when it had gotten so hard.) “No coming until after you’ve gotten the apple.” He cut off Hobbie’s protest, “I’m sure I could rim you to completion several times, and it would hardly be fair for me to get you off time and again without the favor returned.”

Okay, then you stick your head underwater and I’ll rim you. “Oh, I – fine,” he agreed petulantly.

Hobbie was really starting to hate apples. The shiny red fist-sized Tanaabian fruits were mocking him, he was sure of it. He could see it in their water dance, the way they gently rotated as a group, constantly changing their positions with respect to the barrel but maintaining them with respect to each other.

With a new vigor – matched shortly thereafter by his dark-haired counterpart – he all but dove into the barrel to get the apple. He would this time. If he had to stand his well-meaning but totally blasted tormenting lover’s ministrations much longer, he would keel.

As he went after the apple, he scrunched up his face because of the displeasure of forgetting to exhale through his nose and the pleasure of Wes continuing with what he was doing. This time he used his face, to trap the apple against one wall (though being circular, it technically only had one wall) of the barrel, where he was able to sink his teeth into it.

Once he had a firm grip on the apple – he sure as hell wasn’t about to accidentally drop it back into the water – he pushed himself back with a vengeance, sending Wes sprawling backward and flipping his hair back so that it took its natural slicked-back look. He turned around and pounced on Wes, only pausing a fraction of a second before he impaled himself on his lover’s weeping member.

He sat hunched over, water dripping from his hair, nose, chin and apple, to let himself adjust to Wes’s width. After a moment of panting through his nose, he sat up, bit the piece of apple already in his mouth off, preparing to toss the rest of the apple aside while he chewed and puffed, when he stopped himself, an evil plan worthy of Wes Janson forming in his brain.

Instead of ridding himself of the blasted apple, he chewed it slowly and thoughtfully. He allowed himself a second to reflect that the apple tasted rather good before he put his plan into motion.

Shifting his hips slightly, he “mmm”ed sensually and squirmed ever so slightly before declaring, “Oh, Wes, these apples are so *good*!” in an orgasmic manner.

Wes tensed, comprehension on his repressed features. “They’re not *that* good, Hobbie. Come on,” he moved his hands to his blonde lover’s hips, “put the apple away and ravish me.”

Hobbie shook his head slowly, letting his hair shake sexily before he said, “I just went through a lot of effort to get this apple, love. Now, I’m going to eat it.” So there he sat for the next two and a half minutes, taking each delicate bite, then moaning his approval and squirming slightly, knowing full well that his actions wouldn’t allow Wes to flag.

After he finished eating the apple, he diligently started to lick his fingers clean, chuckling at the choked, frustrated groan it extracted from his lover. Once he made sure his fingers were clean, he took pity on the disgruntled love of his life and started moving, indicating to Wes that he could take control.

The blonde was sure he’d be sore for a month. His lover only pulled him down on him about ten times before they both came, but he pulled him down so hard, neither one would have been surprised if Hobbie ended up in a bacta bath for a few hours. It was past due, anyway.

They collapsed on the kitchen floor in a heap after having cum simultaneously, knowing that they would have to get up in a few hours’ time to pack and head back to the base. They wouldn’t get another break like this for a long time, so they valiantly tried to stay awake, staring into each other’s eyes and listening to the beating of each other’s hearts.

Tonight they would be back on base. They would have little recreational time, and even less recreational time alone together. Well, thought Hobbie, at least we don’t get fresh fruit on base very often.

He wasn’t aware that Wes had put in an order to be delivered to their ship prior to takeoff. Yes, he and Hobbie would have their fun. And he just knew that Wedge and Tycho would appreciate the help.

Finis


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