Title: Dirty Laundry

Author: tarotgal

Fandom: Star Wars

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Obi/Qui (duh)

Disclaimer: The great Lucas made the boys. He owns them. He gets the money. This is nothing.

Summary: Obi-Wan has some very strong (and very justified) opinions when it comes to doing laundry

Notes: I've always wanted to write laundry-room sex, so this bunny popped into my head while I was doing laundry and I just had to get it out of my head.



Dirty Laundry

     Obi-Wan left the terminal and desk, heading for his room. He walked swiftly but was trying to look casual so as not to attract unwanted attention. "Padawan? Have you finished your work for the day?" Apparently, there was no escape from Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn's gaze.


     Obi-Wan paused in place and began to rattle off his numerous accomplishments for the day. By the end of the very long list, he'd almost forgotten what it was he'd been avoiding all afternoon. "... then, after lecture, I studied for my recitation in galaxy politics... I stopped by the quatermaster's to tell them about the oven being so temperamental and I set up a time for them to come by and fix it... I caught up with my correspondences..."


     "Yes," Qui-Gon nodded approvingly, cutting Obi-Wan off before the padawan had completely finished. "But have you done the laundry?"


     Silence spoke volumes.


     "Mhmm," said Qui-Gon thoughtfully, looking from Obi-Wan down to the datapad he had been reading while relaxing on the sofa in the common area while Obi-Wan used their shared communications terminal. "I thought as much. There are several loads worth to do. And it is part of your duties."


     Obi-Wan fidgeted uncomfortably at the idea. "Must I do laundry today, Master? We've only just returned from off world--"


     "With bags brimming with dirty laundry. Padawan, we have virtually no clean clothes left to wear. If you do not do a load of laundry we will be forced to walk around without tunics and leggings."


     With a mischievous smile, "And would that be such a terrible thing?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.


     Qui-Gon replied with a stern look to let him know the period for joking was over and the time to complete the chore had begun.


     "But, Master, I absolutely hate doing the laundry."


     Qui-Gon's stern look grew even sterner and Obi-Wan felt it penetrate him so completely that he changed the direction he was facing at once, directing himself towards the 'fresher where the hamper was.


     As he sorted the clothes into lights and darks and picked the baskets up, holding one under each arm, all he could think about was getting the laundry soon as humanly possible. He could think of a dozen torturous things he would have preferred doing to laundry to include sponge-bathing a Hutt or kissing an especially slimy Sindlin sea slug.


     He shuddered, not at his thoughts, but at the sight of the washing machine and dryer in their floor's laundry facilities. With a sigh, he set the baskets down on the floor and closed the door behind him. He felt trapped in the small room, and resisted his instincts which told him to flee. Now that he had given his word to finish this appointed task, Obi-Wan felt he had no choice but to do the laundry.


     "Sniff!" It was starting already.


     Obi-Wan quickly dumped the load of dark clothes into the washer and added a heaping scoop of detergent. Then he quickly closed the lid and scrubbed his nose hard into his shoulder. He punched the setting buttons and sighed when he heard the sound of water rushing into the machine. He'd started. Just a few more hours now and he'd be done.


     Leaning forward against the washer for support, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and focused on his nose. There was a sneeze playing in his nostrils. It was light and more itchy than anything else. He knew well the value of rubbing, but also knew the sneezes would come out eventually. And once they begun, they would not stop. And he still had hours to go. "hihh! Sith! Sniff!" He rubbed harder at his nose then pinched his nostrils closed. It was starting sooner than usual.


     There was just something about doing laundry that made him sneeze. Maybe it was one of the detergents. Or maybe it was a mix of the many detergents sitting on the shelves on the side of the small room. Maybe the dryer sheets were to blame. Or maybe it was something to do with the frequently-cleaned lint traps. Whatever it was, he'd never yet been able to get through a laundry session without sneezing.


     "ihhh!" But, usually, it was at least half an hour before he started sneezing. Today, whatever it was, was already doing quite a number on him. "hih!" He scrubbed his finger hard beneath his nose and held his breath.


     Then he let his breath out in a shaky sigh. This was definitely going to be one long laundry session. Luckily, he brought along a datapad. He had some reading to do for the culture report he had due within a month. He had really meant to do it while off world, but the mission had kept him so busy that there had not been timing during the day. And during the night he had been so exhausted he hadn't been able to do anything but climb into bed and snuggle up to Qui-Gon and sleep.


     "h'Choo!" The sneeze caught him completely by surprise. By the time he'd clapped his hand to his face, the sneeze had been out and was uncatchable. Tickles were brewing madly in his nose now, and he knew just what that meant. His head snapped forward with another short but strong sneeze. "huhChoo!" It did nothing to alleviate the tickles and itches, and neither did more rubs.


     So, with a sigh, he sat down on the low bench on the wall opposite the washer and dryer. Opposite he was, but he was also merely a few feet away. If he stretched his arm straight out, he came just an inch or two short of touching the machines. The room was claustrophobically small, another reason he hated doing laundry.


     "huhhh-Shooo!" But the main reason was incredibly obvious. Obi-Wan dug out one of the handkerchiefs he'd brought along, anticipating the sneezes. "hehhChoo!" He rubbed his nose through the folds as his eyes stay closed and mouth stayed hanging open. "ehh-hehhhChuhh!"


     Obi-Wan held the handkerchief to his nose as he looked down at the datapad, intending to read despite the sneezes. The least he could do was try to get something productive accomplished. His breathing was punctuated with periodic sniffles. His vision grew fuzzy as he forced his eyes to stay open and focused on the paragraphs of text. His nostrils twitched. His lips trembled. And he gripped his nose through the handkerchief. "H'Choo! hehChoo!"


     In the end, he got very little reading done while the first load was in the washer. Most of his time was taken by the need to tend to his nose and by glaring up at the sign hanging over the door which stated in red capital letters:




Obi-Wan knew it was there not because of a problem with theft but because Jedi uniforms looked so different and far too many mix-ups had occurred. Whatever the reason, Obi-Wan was not one to disregard an instruction. Which is how he'd ended up there in the first place.


     "HEHChoo!" Sneezing miserably every few minutes was tiring. But when the washer went quiet, Obi-Wan hopped right up to transfer the load and start the next. He added his white handkerchief to the load of whites, which was why he had chosen to start with the darks. Then he sat back down on the bench as the dryer hummed and washer shook. He took out another handkerchief after a few minutes and a few sneezes. "hehh-Yih-Choo!"


     His nose felt as though it were on fire by now. His sneezes were sporadic but no less strong and no less annoying. "hehShoo!" If anything, they were more annoying. At least with a fit of sneezing he might get rid of the irritant or decide that doing anything but sneeze was futile. But, as it was, he had time and ability to read. But every time he finally got into it, he had to sneeze again.


     After a while, he just gave up on his reading and sat watching the machines packed full of clothes. Their tones formed a soothing harmony and their shaking was mesmerizing. He found himself staring dazedly at the pair, mouth hanging open, hand halfway between his face and his lap and at the ready.


     "hihhh... huhhh..." Suddenly, he heard footsteps outside, and the sound of the door opening frightened away Obi-Wan's sneeze. He looked up, a wave of familiarity and understanding sweeping through him. He stood. "Master!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, surprised to see Qui-Gon, of all people, walking in. He was first pleased to see Qui-Gon, then suspicious. "Were you checking up on me?" Obi-Wan pinched his nose but still snapped forward under the force of the sneeze. "ihhKchh!"


     Qui-Gon laughed. "No. I simply wanted to visit with you. How are you?"


     Obi-Wan rolled his eyes in honesty. "I..." he began to respond, but cupped the handkerchief to his nose again. Quickly, all as one word, "Ivegottosneeze." His breath caught for a moment, then the build-up began. "hihhh-ihhhChooo!" He sighed deeply and looked up at his master again. "I absolutely hate doing laundry," he complained. "Sniff! Sniff! I hate it."


     Nodding, "I know," he said, sounding genuinely sympathetic. "And I thought you might need some cheering up." He waved his hand and the door lock clicked into place. Then he walked over to Obi-Wan, catching the young man in a sudden kiss. A thumb stroked the soft cheek and Obi-Wan leaned into the touch, craving more.


     Encouraged, Qui-Gon dropped to his knees and used both hands and his teeth to work on untying and loosening the ties on Obi-Wan' leggings. The belt slid off, onto the floor, and the leggings finally slid down strong thighs, revealing partial excitement which was further helped along by Qui-Gon nuzzling his face into Obi-Wan's crotch. He breathed warmly upon Obi-Wan's privates and added tongue to make Obi-Wan gasp.


     Obi-Wan was not entirely relaxed or convinced, however. "But... but what if there's someone else coming to do laundry? What if we hear someone coming? What if--"


     "Padawan Mine," said Qui-Gon, stroking Obi-Wan's head possessively. "The only I am concerned about coming is you."


     Though still sniffling, Obi-Wan was grinning from ear to ear as Qui-Gon used the Force to help pick Obi-Wan up. Qui-Gon spun around and deposited Obi-Wan on top of the washing machine. Obi-Wan could feel the vibrations of the washer as they penetrated his rear and filled the lower half of his body. The feeling was far more arousing than he would have suspected.


     Obi-Wan's hands gripped the front edge of the machine as Qui-Gon slid off the rest of Obi-Wan's clothes. And Obi-Wan rubbed at his nose as Qui-Gon began licking and rubbing.


     Even though Qui-Gon concentrated on Obi-Wan's cock and balls, he had a way of making Obi-Wan feel as though he were paying attention to all of Obi-Wan at the same time. He stroked with sensuality and licked with love. And when his large hands slid back and gripped Obi-Wan's asscheeks, and when he took Obi-Wan's length into his mouth fully, Obi-Wan felt as though he was being hugged. He sat there, savoring the attention as he was shaken gently by the washer.


     "hehhh..." But the sneezes were still there, as well. "hahhShooo!" His mouth around Obi-Wan's cock, Qui-Gon's eyes gazed upwards in question. "Excuse me," Obi-Wan said. "Sniff! Sniff! Sorry, Master."


     Qui-Gon pulled back, quickly wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "There's no need to say that," he said, shaking his head. "I do not want you to worry about it or say anything about it. The only things I want to hear from you are words of pleasure."


     Obi-Wan agreed and relaxed a bit, finding it easier to enjoy himself now that Qui-Gon was not bothered by his sneezes. And though his breathing was still punctuated with sniffles, the time in-between those sniffles was filled with groans and moans and the sorts of words used only in the throes of fantastic love-making.


     Qui-Gon forced Obi-Wan's legs open so that he could get have better access. Obi-Wan's balls rested right against the washing machine at that point and he groaned happily. The vibrations were steady and soothing, filling him and fueling his arousal. Qui-Gon greeted it with his mouth again, throat relaxed and tongue strong. "That's it," Obi-Wan moaned three sucks later.


     He put his hand on Qui-Gon's head, helping to guide it back and forth. Qui-Gon's head bobbed swiftly, eyes closed. "Oh yes... magnificent cuhhh..." His nose again. As frustrated as he was about his allergy acting up, it paled in comparison to what magic Qui-Gon was performing. "K'TChuhhh! Sniff!" He rubbed his free hand against his nose but remembered his promise not to apologize. Quickly he did as Qui-Gon wanted. "Magnificent... cocksucking," he said, a sly smile on his face. "That tongue... ohhh Master! Faster? Please?"


     Qui-Gon went faster. And faster. Almost impossibly faster. So fast and with the heat and wet and whirring and vibrating and "Master!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, grabbing a fistful of the thick brown hair and tugging. "Wait, I-- Oh Master, I'm so hard and ready!"


     Only seconds, or maybe less than that, away from coming, Qui-Gon stopped. He stopped not because of Obi-Wan, but because the washer stopped. It broke their rhythm and made Obi-Wan's heart sink right down to the bottom of his stomach. He'd wanted a pause, but also badly wanted more. His loins felt empty and his body felt still. His hips bucked uselessly and he felt a little bit of guilt and shame. "Damnit," he said, rubbing at his nose.


     Determined to finish his padawan off one way or another, and knowing that a washer cycle was half a dryer cycle, he kissed Obi-Wan again. "Not done yet," he promised. He stroked Obi-Wan, and kissed again, reassuringly. Then he backed up and dragged a small stool out from beneath the bench.


     It was what was commonly referred to by the padawans as the 'initiate block'. It was for the younger and shorter younglings to stand on when doing the laundry, so they could reach down inside the washer for every last sock. But it was also the perfect height for two grown Jedi to stand on if they wanted to...


     Obi-Wan jumped down onto it and reached for Qui-Gon's leggings. Just the sight of his master's excitement and the warmth of it against Obi-Wan's hand made Obi-Wan groan with pleasure. As Obi-Wan rubbed, Qui-Gon gave a similar groan. "That's it," he agreed, nodding, glad now that he hadn't been spoiled already. "Give me your cock, Master. Fuck my ass hard with your hot, thick-- ah!"


     Qui-Gon spun Obi-Wan around and bent him over the dryer. Obi-Wan found its vibrations to feel much different than the washer's. The shaking was stronger but uneven as the load was tossed and spun around. And, with his cock and balls pressed against it, and his Master taking him from behind, it was all Obi-Wan could do to keep his mind.


     "hahhh-ahhhShoo! Hahh-AHKshooo!" The sneezes nearly compelled him to say something dirty now. But all he could muster was a gasping. "Oh FORCE!" Qui-Gon fucked him harder, faster, deeper, until they were both crying out with no way to tell who had started first or ended last. All there was left was pleasure and the rocking of the dryer beneath deep moans.


     When it was over, Qui-Gon carefully slid out and yanked his leggings back into place. But Obi-Wan remained where he was, spread eagle, face down on the dryer. He was panting and his nose was tickling. "ihh-KTChhh!" Despite his sneeze, Obi-Wan still sighed. "I love doing the laundry," he said.


     Qui-Gon chuckled as he fumbled around in the large pockets of his robes to finally withdraw a handkerchief. "Here, let me clean you off." He wiped gently at Obi-Wan's nose, letting the man snuffle into it a little. Then he wiped Obi-Wan's cock and mopped up the mess on the top of the dryer. "Can't have lovely, clean clothes and a dirty padawan now, can I?" he joked.


     "You can clean all you like there," Obi-Wan said. "But I'm still plenty dirty."


     "That's for certain," Qui-Gon said, recalling vividly all that had so easily flowed from Obi-Wan's mouth. He rewarded that mouth, however, with another kiss, just as the dryer shut off, having finished its cycle. Then Qui-Gon helped Obi-Wan down off the dryer but kept an arm around him for support as Obi-Wan snapped forward with another sneeze.


     "hihh-KShhhh!" He scrubbed at his nose a little as he straightened back up. Then he opened up the dryer and rifled through it until he found a handkerchief. It was clean and soft and incredibly warm. The padawan sighed deeply as he wiped his nose with it.


     Qui-Gon reached into the dryer after him and pulled out some clothes, folding them before placing them in the laundry basket. Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, Master. The laundry is my duty. You don't need to do that."


     "I didn't need to come down here either," Qui-Gon pointed out as he took out a pair of leggings- it didn't matter whose- and sniffed them to make sure they were clean. They passed his test with flying colors and he busied himself folding them up and placing them in the basket.


     Obi-Wan, meanwhile, looked on with a grin on his face. "Actually, Master..." he said. "We were on that mission for over a week. Which meant going six whole days without having each other or even touching each other." He moved close, pinning himself to Qui-Gon's side and taking an undertunic from Qui-Gon's hands. "I've a feeling you did need to come down here."


     Qui-Gon did not meet his gaze, but could not hide his smile as he took the ends of the tunic and brought them up to fold it in half. As he did so, he closed his eyes and leaned in, kissing Obi-Wan again.


     Obi-Wan tried not to ruin the kiss with his grin, but he could not help feeling elated after such blissful sex and a good reward for his suffering and his stunning-as-ever performance. He could not wait to finish up now in order to get back up to the rooms and strip off these clothes to add them to the hamper in the 'fresher. The next laundry day could not be soon enough now.