Fevered Thoughts
by sidewinder (sidewinder@fanfiction.net)
Rating: R
Archive: m_a, my homepage
Category: a silly super-short thesis-avoiding PWP
Summary: Sequel to "Stranger Things..." Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon
discuss Qui-Gon's dream.
Notes: you can blame this one on the fact that I received so many
nice comments on "Stranger Things...", much to my amazement.
And very very little on "Close to the Edge", so I'm assuming y'all
just want more silliness from me. Want to change my mind? Send
me feedback, or else suffer the consequences ;-)
"Pregnant?! You dreamed you were pregnant?!"
"Yes, Padawan."
Obi-Wan gave his master a wide-eyed stare, then began to laugh.
"Oh, Force protect us...protect us from your dreams, at least! I
thought you said it wasn't a nightmare."
"It wasn't. It was rather odd, yes, but...not unpleasant."
"Are you certain you're feeling better, Master?" Obi-Wan teased,
pressing his hand against Qui-Gon's forehead. "This must be the
fever speaking."
"You are just looking for an excuse to keep me in bed for the
rest of the day."
"Perhaps." Obi-Wan smiled, and kissed the place where his hand
had been resting. His mouth then traveled down to Qui-Gon's nose,
then wandered across his cheek before finding his lips. Qui-Gon
knew he should be shooing Obi-Wan out of bed to go...practice
some important Jedi thing or other.
Well, maybe in another hour or two. After all, Obi-Wan had shed
all of his clothing while Qui-Gon had dozed off again, and it seemed
like such a waste to ask him to put them back on so soon.
Obi-Wan finished sucking on his master's bottom lip and started to
laugh again. "A baby of all things..."
"You said I was glowing."
"I said what?"
"When I was pregnant. You said I was glowing, and that it was
quite sexy."
"Definitely the fever talking," Obi-Wan muttered, as his fingers
slipped under Qui-Gon's nightshirt to trace intricate patterns
across his chest.
"The idea of having children has no appeal to you?"
"Why, does it appeal to you?"
"I asked you first, Padawan."
A slightly annoyed sigh was Obi-Wan's answer, then he added, "I
just have never given it any consideration. I'm too young to be
thinking about children. And you?"
"From time to time. I suppose it's only natural for the thought to
come to mind as a man grows older."
"Then remind me to never grow old," Obi-Wan said. He slipped the
shirt over his master's head, and then straddled Qui-Gon's naked
body. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force and a small bottle of
massage oil flew into his hand from across the room.
"Padawan..."
"Yes, Master?"
"I don't think this course of action is going to do anything to
reduce my body temperature."
"Nonsense. A good sweat is what you need right now."
"Been studying the healing arts in your spare time?"
"If that's what you want to call it."
Qui-Gon drew in his breath sharply, as Obi-Wan took him inside his
body in one swift movement. "Obi-Wan..."
"Yes, Master?"
"Oh...mmm...nevermind."
Yes, healing arts indeed.
"I told you, a good sweat and you're feeling better, aren't you?"
"Infinitely."
"No more silly dreams about babies and glowing and that sort of
nonsense."
"No more. What would I do with a child, when I already have my
hands full with you?"
Obi-Wan raised his head from his master's chest, looking mildly
affronted. "Should I feel insulted right now, Master?"
"No, my padawan. Merely loved."
end