Title: Jaxxon's Twi'leks 19-- Feeling at Home
author: helgaleena
helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Series: post-TPM
Rating: NC-17
Archive/Distribution: yes
Category: slash, h/c
spoilers: leads to Star Wars: Twilight, by Ostrander and Duursema
Disclaimer: Lucas owns everything. i am nothing
Summary: Quinlan Vos is getting nowhere in his investigations on Kiffex. Jaxxon commiserates.
Authors note: more on Jaxxon at the webstrip : http://jaxxons11.com
Kiffu
"There's a rumor of Anzati on Kiffex," were the words that finally left his taciturn partner's mouth, nearly an hour after he'd stomped into the ship's commons and begun pouring ale into himself. "Aayla is not going to be 'soup'..."
Jaxxon was shocked to see Kim Kiffar, in reality the Jedi Quinlan Vos, with trembling hands. The human set down the beaker of ale with a noticeable clatter.
"Anzati killed my parents. I saw it happen." The piercing eyes were shut. The habitual scowl had deepened into pitch-black grief. But he continued to speak, having probed with the Force to ensure that they were alone.
"Coming back here to this rat's nest is always an ordeal, because I can't do a thing about the status quo, because I'm a damned Jedi, and not the Sheyf's apprentice, like she wants. I have to leave it all to fester. The Sheyf teaches avoidance of the Force in all its aspects, light or dark, and that means there are whole blank areas of lawlessness all over this cursed moon. One of them probably hides the spider smugglers that we're after.
"But the old witch is stonewalling us. She knows I can't lay hands on her, to read her. She hides the other Guardians from me. Until Master Tholme gets here, the investigation is stalled. Between us, we could set up a planetary sweep of the unknown areas. But Aayla's not advanced enough for that yet. And I forbade her to go into the unknown regions without me. And I am not going there myself. I won't risk it. My apprentice will not be betrayed by any mistake of mine. I won't let her be 'soup'..."
"You said that already."
The dark eyes came open again, tarry pits in the brick-brown face. "That figures."
"Hey, partner." Jaxxon leaned in, getting Quin's attention. "Come with me to zee fresher. Lay down your troubles on my furry green shoulders. A burden shared is a burden halved, and all that jizz."
Silence. No change in the Kim Kiffar expression, save for a noncommittal twitch of the lips. Finally a response--
"Wise Lepi."
He had heard; okay. Jaxxon let out a sigh of relief. "Don't I know it. So--" and he started them moving down Rabbit's Foot's main corridor, "--do we stay here in Kiffar territory then, waiting for your Tholme?"
"Yes. I suppose Lenara and the rest of your stable could find out more, with Aayla's suggestions, than I can at this point. I'm too well known. Just tell them to stay away from any area the Guardians avoid." Quin had been letting Jaxxon tow him along by the tunic, but when they got to the fresher, it was occupied.
Unconcerned, the captain began to disrobe his business partner, right there in the corridor. The Quin he was used to would have chuckled at that, but this bleak new Quin just let it happen. The heavy rust-brown cloak went first, hitting the floor in a pile at their feet.
Then Jaxxon knelt, his bare toes splaying against the opposite wall, so he could remove Quin's boots. Anyone passing would simply have to step over his shins, for now. Quin allowed him to lift up one foot, then the other, the Lepi pulling away the protective supports and liners from his reddish toes. His exposed feet, through contact with the very floors of the vessel, would convey comfort to his whole nervous system, telegraphing insistently that this was Jaxxon's ship, his home, his refuge, and therefore Quin's as well. He smiled to see it take effect. The human let out a sigh, and his expression visibly lightened, into something closer to his characteristic scowl.
The Kiffar leaned his brick-brown forehead against Jaxxon's sleek green brow. Their heads were on a level when the Lepi knelt. In that psychometric contact the two beings did literally what they had been speaking of-- they shared burdens.
Under the lingering miasma of fear of the Anzati, rising from the festering wound of parents dying, Jaxxon was privy to portraits, composed of a hundred experiences and more, of the two authority figures in opposition in his business partner's psyche. There was the gnarled green-striped old woman, and the icy-eyed, hatchet-jawed spymaster. The former continually schemed to steal him back, from the life that kept him sane. The latter displayed minimal affection, but offered essential discipline, and the skills of detachment and concealment. The old woman wanted it all; the man gave and asked in return only that Quin serve his true nature. Easy choice, thought Jaxxon.
This true nature thing, this Force thing-- that was a little over his head, but it seemed to consist of all living beings harmonizing, or some such deep shit. What he was laying out as his own worries seemed like small veggies by comparison.
Only just annoyance at the successive delays of their heading out for Coachelle. Turmoil over having to reject Billina, again, and what she might do about that.
Little anxieties about keeping his ladies healthy and happy; poring over their checkups with Foot's little MD unit. At least he didn't have to deal with a witch in charge of an entire moon full of ghosts.
The fresher door finally opened, and one of the Twi'lek ladies did step over his legs, with a knowing look. It was Lana, Lenara's buxom young "apprentice". Jaxxon could tell from her aroma that she was having a menses, which meant that Lenara was, too. She wouldn't be seeking him out for a few days. That was fine with him-- right now he wasn't craving the feminine.
His tongue snaked out, to where the Kiffar's mouth loomed so close, curtained by the fall of inky locks and his own ears. The curling tip brushed against the brick red lips, in their setting of several days of dark stubble. The lips parted, partook of the sensation, then followed his tongue home.
Leisurely, Quin's jutting lower lip grazed the cleft upper lip of the young Lepi, imparting the maximum sensation with the minimum contact. Jaxxon's whiskers stood on end at how good it felt; he sucked in a swift inhalation that caused the taciturn Quin to actually smile. Jaxxon judged it to be a good time to rise, boots and cloak in hand, and sweep them both into the fresher, as planned.
The door sealed behind them, and they kissed hungrily, free of interruptions. Jaxxon was pulling the human to him with all ten claws dug into the back of his tunics, careful not to tear them, but anxious for full access to the flavor of Kiffar mouth. Quin leaned up into the contact, gulping and suckling that uncanny length of tongue. He was ridding the younger being of his coverall at high speed, so that he could feel up that silky grey-green chest to his heart's content. He always got the impression of Jaxxon having an enormous, warm hearth of a heart, beneath the smooth fur. Against that chest he could bask and truly relax.
At his first touch of the hard little nipples, Jaxxon reared back, gasping, the better to rub against his hands. Quin was besieged by a flurry of images of his own hands, doing all sorts of things to those many nipples. The flight suit fell from the Lepi's shoulders and down to his ankles, baring all six and a half feet of him for fondling. Quin was happy to oblige.
"Man, that feels good," Jaxxon mumbled, his own enormous hands laying siege to Quin's utility belt. And soon there was a corresponding expanse of Kiffar chest laid bare. Jaxxon took a moment to shred the Jedi's wrist wrappings with a careful claw up the back of each arm. Then he staged an invasion of the trousers by his huge green fingers. Soon Kiffar ass was within his grasp.
Quin was breathing heavily, struggling out of his loosened clothes, and thrusting himself eagerly into Jaxxon's hands. The hands fed him a montage of recent memories, of other times those buttocks had been in the keeping of these very hands, and the pleasure imparted to the buttocks' owner thereby. His heart thumped in his chest in gratitude for being so appreciated-- after all, Jedi were the good guys.
At last they were bare enough for suds and spray, and commenced the cleaning. But Quin seemed to spend rather more time drinking whatever rolled down Jaxxon's neck and shoulders, than actually washing him. So the Lepi gave in and threw his head back, bracing against one wall, to let the man's cat-rough tongue work on him. He put one foot up against the opposite wall, and let Quin move into the house of Lepi. The Kiffar hands stroked everywhere, redoubling Quin's own pleasure and sending it back through his skin in an endless feedback loop that had him humming with satisfaction. Quin was rubbing those complex yellow tattoos all over his chest, pulling out moans of pleasure from the owner of the nipples and other furnishings to which they were applied.
When he'd had enough Lepi contact from the front, he straddled Jaxxon's turgid member with a growl, and commenced to rub chest to back. It felt so nice to be between those muscular thighs that Jaxxon grabbed the human and crushed him against himself, so that ass and legs would follow.
He became acutely aware that Quin was riding him. He had both their organs in his monkey grip, and was grinding them together, the big Kiffar rod and the bigger Lepi rod, captured by ass and legs, topped by hands and scrotum. It felt way too good. Instantly Jaxxon put himself on guard, trying to shield himself from the mental touch that Quin knew would send him over the edge, into helpless orgasm.
Yes, there was that sneaky Jedi mind, tunneling into his own, as he tried to think of all things impregnable and resistant.
But at the same time he was bombarded by the sensations of exquisite friction from those monkey thighs and hands, dammit; the man was jacking him off with his entire ass, with his balls for frosting! That hard, muscular butt clenching and those hands clenching in the other way, and the precum leaking down on him from--
One fingertip too many on the tip of him, and he was shooting his load at the fresher wall. Quin was moaning on top of him, massaging spilled human spunk into the length of him, so of course he had to come again, immediately, and hard.
His hands clenched into the man's chest, until the Kiffar's ribs were welted with red, and the human's whole body went into a paroxysm of pleasure-pain.
Oops. Trembling now, Jaxxon gently turned Quin around and licked the small wounds. Thank the hundred small gods, none of the punctures were serious. Quin wrapped arms around his neck and rested his black mop there, giving him tongue access. He wasn't mad. Or else they were both mad... this had happened before, to both of them. It didn't change anything.
He'd slid to the fresher floor, somewhere along the way, and Quin was kneeling above him. When he'd had enough lapping, Quin's arms pulled him close, away from the wall. It always surprised him how strong he was, for a human. Rising, he hoisted Jaxxon up to his knees again, as if he were stuffed with straw. Then he got Jaxxon by the neck hairs and moved in for another kiss.
It was a relentless sort of kiss. That rough tongue was after every trace of his own blood that might be on the Lepi's fangs. Jaxxon's claws found themselves buried in that inky hair, pulling their faces closer. His tongue was roused to action again; his ears were twitching in all directions. He felt positively feral. And Quin wanted this, was encouraging it.
As he plunged his tongue down the Kiffar's throat again, he felt the vicious scrape of those blunt, flat teeth around the edges. With a shiver, he stopped himself from nipping back with his own, much sharper teeth, contenting himself with reaming out the man's generous mouth, licking up the gushing saliva. He used Quin's hair to tilt his head to the perfect angle for consumption, with Quin all the while threatening to chew him up. How much control did he have left?
"I don't want to hurt you, man, " he gasped, pulling the Kiffar's voracious mouth away for a moment. The dark eyes over the yellow stripe beneath the beetling brows were wild, but the nostrils dilated with an intake of breath, and Quin gave a small nod. He would back down. Jaxxon found himself drooling at the sight of the pulse in the man's neck, not a good sign. He had to do something-- something else.
Hands still in Quin's hair, he pushed the Kiffar back against the splatter of jism on the fresher wall. Gently he rubbed the man with it. Equally gently, he turned the man round and began to lick again.
The taste of come put things back into perspective. The pleasurable squirming of the man, now bracing his arms against the wall, no longer put him on the hunt. Instead, he was giving the kit treatment. He couldn't see, of course, with Quin facing away, but he felt the vulnerable tears the man was shedding at this tenderness. The mop of hair was propped against the wall now, and suspiciously still.
He used the velvety backs of his hands to glide up the Kiffar's legs, as he started to nibble delicately at that rosy ass. At the attention, Quin spread his legs, still hiding his face, but begging for more. Man-musk, nowhere near as powerful as his own, crept into his nose, beguiling but not overwhelming.
Deeper he lapped into that cleft, over the man's perineum, jangling his balls until they contracted, watching the shaft rise and inflate, snuffling hot breaths over the place his fingers had delved so often, wringing groans of pleasure from the standing man. Then he reached around to grab that shaft and take charge of it, and put his tongue right in. First a little bit, to enjoy the flustered contractions of the sphincter, then farther, wriggling a bit to make the man's heels leave the fresher floor.
He could tell, directly through his tongue, that this was a first for Quin. He had done it to others, but never had it done to him. And it was eliciting a similar response to what Jaxxon himself had felt, when he'd been on the receiving end. The pleasure was nearly unspeakable. How fortunate that they didn't need to speak.
Quin had begun to thrust himself deeper into Jaxxon's big hand, trembling so much that his legs shook. A little tendril of predatory instinct tried to insinuate itself into Jaxxon's arousal at that-- he was momentarily tempted to pull his mouth away, to sink his teeth into the hot quivering glutes under his nose. But he took himself in hand as well. He plunged his tongue to the hilt into its living sheath. And stroked himself ever harder with his free hand, until he let loose again with a yell, right into that monkey ass.
Quin almost climbed the fresher wall as he came. Then he fell back against Jaxxon. If there were tears on his stubbly face, they were hidden by the fresher spray. But at last the expression there was one of peace. Jaxxon blinked down at him, bemused.
Then came a gentle tapping at the fresher door. One of the seven other beings on board had need of the facilities. Oh well. He nudged the man on his chest.
"Kim. Kim Kiffar. Get up."
The Jedi rolled his eyes at the use of his alias, and moved away, switching off the fresher spray. Another toggle turned on the blowers, which were loud enough to reassure whoever was waiting outside, that progress was being made in here towards vacating the premises.
Jaxxon stood, getting the full benefit of the blast, watching Quin wrap a towel around himself, shaking it out first in the blower breeze. He was using his feet to nudge clothing to be freshened into the appropriate bin, his chest scored by the new little scratches. The Jedi picked up belt and boots, locks still dripping down his torso, as Jaxxon reached for a clean coverall.
His feet, those brick brown, naked hairless feet, would be getting the same reassurance that his own did, from the floors of home. Well, in his case, the home of a friend. But for how much longer?
Nothing lasts forever, mused the captain of the Rabbit's Foot, pulling up his zip. He might want it to be longer, but at some point, the Jedi would be flitting off on his next mission. Jedi comfort was not a steady sort of work. He looked up at the Jedi in question.
Quinlan Vos, the Jedi who read him like a Lepi, was nowhere to be seen.. Face back in its regulation scowl, Kim Kiffar the smuggler opened the fresher door.
TBC
author: helgaleena
helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Series: post-TPM
Rating: NC-17
Archive/Distribution: yes
Category: slash, h/c
spoilers: leads to Star Wars: Twilight, by Ostrander and Duursema
Disclaimer: Lucas owns everything. i am nothing
Summary: Quinlan Vos is getting nowhere in his investigations on Kiffex. Jaxxon commiserates.
Authors note: more on Jaxxon at the webstrip : http://jaxxons11.com
Kiffu
"There's a rumor of Anzati on Kiffex," were the words that finally left his taciturn partner's mouth, nearly an hour after he'd stomped into the ship's commons and begun pouring ale into himself. "Aayla is not going to be 'soup'..."
Jaxxon was shocked to see Kim Kiffar, in reality the Jedi Quinlan Vos, with trembling hands. The human set down the beaker of ale with a noticeable clatter.
"Anzati killed my parents. I saw it happen." The piercing eyes were shut. The habitual scowl had deepened into pitch-black grief. But he continued to speak, having probed with the Force to ensure that they were alone.
"Coming back here to this rat's nest is always an ordeal, because I can't do a thing about the status quo, because I'm a damned Jedi, and not the Sheyf's apprentice, like she wants. I have to leave it all to fester. The Sheyf teaches avoidance of the Force in all its aspects, light or dark, and that means there are whole blank areas of lawlessness all over this cursed moon. One of them probably hides the spider smugglers that we're after.
"But the old witch is stonewalling us. She knows I can't lay hands on her, to read her. She hides the other Guardians from me. Until Master Tholme gets here, the investigation is stalled. Between us, we could set up a planetary sweep of the unknown areas. But Aayla's not advanced enough for that yet. And I forbade her to go into the unknown regions without me. And I am not going there myself. I won't risk it. My apprentice will not be betrayed by any mistake of mine. I won't let her be 'soup'..."
"You said that already."
The dark eyes came open again, tarry pits in the brick-brown face. "That figures."
"Hey, partner." Jaxxon leaned in, getting Quin's attention. "Come with me to zee fresher. Lay down your troubles on my furry green shoulders. A burden shared is a burden halved, and all that jizz."
Silence. No change in the Kim Kiffar expression, save for a noncommittal twitch of the lips. Finally a response--
"Wise Lepi."
He had heard; okay. Jaxxon let out a sigh of relief. "Don't I know it. So--" and he started them moving down Rabbit's Foot's main corridor, "--do we stay here in Kiffar territory then, waiting for your Tholme?"
"Yes. I suppose Lenara and the rest of your stable could find out more, with Aayla's suggestions, than I can at this point. I'm too well known. Just tell them to stay away from any area the Guardians avoid." Quin had been letting Jaxxon tow him along by the tunic, but when they got to the fresher, it was occupied.
Unconcerned, the captain began to disrobe his business partner, right there in the corridor. The Quin he was used to would have chuckled at that, but this bleak new Quin just let it happen. The heavy rust-brown cloak went first, hitting the floor in a pile at their feet.
Then Jaxxon knelt, his bare toes splaying against the opposite wall, so he could remove Quin's boots. Anyone passing would simply have to step over his shins, for now. Quin allowed him to lift up one foot, then the other, the Lepi pulling away the protective supports and liners from his reddish toes. His exposed feet, through contact with the very floors of the vessel, would convey comfort to his whole nervous system, telegraphing insistently that this was Jaxxon's ship, his home, his refuge, and therefore Quin's as well. He smiled to see it take effect. The human let out a sigh, and his expression visibly lightened, into something closer to his characteristic scowl.
The Kiffar leaned his brick-brown forehead against Jaxxon's sleek green brow. Their heads were on a level when the Lepi knelt. In that psychometric contact the two beings did literally what they had been speaking of-- they shared burdens.
Under the lingering miasma of fear of the Anzati, rising from the festering wound of parents dying, Jaxxon was privy to portraits, composed of a hundred experiences and more, of the two authority figures in opposition in his business partner's psyche. There was the gnarled green-striped old woman, and the icy-eyed, hatchet-jawed spymaster. The former continually schemed to steal him back, from the life that kept him sane. The latter displayed minimal affection, but offered essential discipline, and the skills of detachment and concealment. The old woman wanted it all; the man gave and asked in return only that Quin serve his true nature. Easy choice, thought Jaxxon.
This true nature thing, this Force thing-- that was a little over his head, but it seemed to consist of all living beings harmonizing, or some such deep shit. What he was laying out as his own worries seemed like small veggies by comparison.
Only just annoyance at the successive delays of their heading out for Coachelle. Turmoil over having to reject Billina, again, and what she might do about that.
Little anxieties about keeping his ladies healthy and happy; poring over their checkups with Foot's little MD unit. At least he didn't have to deal with a witch in charge of an entire moon full of ghosts.
The fresher door finally opened, and one of the Twi'lek ladies did step over his legs, with a knowing look. It was Lana, Lenara's buxom young "apprentice". Jaxxon could tell from her aroma that she was having a menses, which meant that Lenara was, too. She wouldn't be seeking him out for a few days. That was fine with him-- right now he wasn't craving the feminine.
His tongue snaked out, to where the Kiffar's mouth loomed so close, curtained by the fall of inky locks and his own ears. The curling tip brushed against the brick red lips, in their setting of several days of dark stubble. The lips parted, partook of the sensation, then followed his tongue home.
Leisurely, Quin's jutting lower lip grazed the cleft upper lip of the young Lepi, imparting the maximum sensation with the minimum contact. Jaxxon's whiskers stood on end at how good it felt; he sucked in a swift inhalation that caused the taciturn Quin to actually smile. Jaxxon judged it to be a good time to rise, boots and cloak in hand, and sweep them both into the fresher, as planned.
The door sealed behind them, and they kissed hungrily, free of interruptions. Jaxxon was pulling the human to him with all ten claws dug into the back of his tunics, careful not to tear them, but anxious for full access to the flavor of Kiffar mouth. Quin leaned up into the contact, gulping and suckling that uncanny length of tongue. He was ridding the younger being of his coverall at high speed, so that he could feel up that silky grey-green chest to his heart's content. He always got the impression of Jaxxon having an enormous, warm hearth of a heart, beneath the smooth fur. Against that chest he could bask and truly relax.
At his first touch of the hard little nipples, Jaxxon reared back, gasping, the better to rub against his hands. Quin was besieged by a flurry of images of his own hands, doing all sorts of things to those many nipples. The flight suit fell from the Lepi's shoulders and down to his ankles, baring all six and a half feet of him for fondling. Quin was happy to oblige.
"Man, that feels good," Jaxxon mumbled, his own enormous hands laying siege to Quin's utility belt. And soon there was a corresponding expanse of Kiffar chest laid bare. Jaxxon took a moment to shred the Jedi's wrist wrappings with a careful claw up the back of each arm. Then he staged an invasion of the trousers by his huge green fingers. Soon Kiffar ass was within his grasp.
Quin was breathing heavily, struggling out of his loosened clothes, and thrusting himself eagerly into Jaxxon's hands. The hands fed him a montage of recent memories, of other times those buttocks had been in the keeping of these very hands, and the pleasure imparted to the buttocks' owner thereby. His heart thumped in his chest in gratitude for being so appreciated-- after all, Jedi were the good guys.
At last they were bare enough for suds and spray, and commenced the cleaning. But Quin seemed to spend rather more time drinking whatever rolled down Jaxxon's neck and shoulders, than actually washing him. So the Lepi gave in and threw his head back, bracing against one wall, to let the man's cat-rough tongue work on him. He put one foot up against the opposite wall, and let Quin move into the house of Lepi. The Kiffar hands stroked everywhere, redoubling Quin's own pleasure and sending it back through his skin in an endless feedback loop that had him humming with satisfaction. Quin was rubbing those complex yellow tattoos all over his chest, pulling out moans of pleasure from the owner of the nipples and other furnishings to which they were applied.
When he'd had enough Lepi contact from the front, he straddled Jaxxon's turgid member with a growl, and commenced to rub chest to back. It felt so nice to be between those muscular thighs that Jaxxon grabbed the human and crushed him against himself, so that ass and legs would follow.
He became acutely aware that Quin was riding him. He had both their organs in his monkey grip, and was grinding them together, the big Kiffar rod and the bigger Lepi rod, captured by ass and legs, topped by hands and scrotum. It felt way too good. Instantly Jaxxon put himself on guard, trying to shield himself from the mental touch that Quin knew would send him over the edge, into helpless orgasm.
Yes, there was that sneaky Jedi mind, tunneling into his own, as he tried to think of all things impregnable and resistant.
But at the same time he was bombarded by the sensations of exquisite friction from those monkey thighs and hands, dammit; the man was jacking him off with his entire ass, with his balls for frosting! That hard, muscular butt clenching and those hands clenching in the other way, and the precum leaking down on him from--
One fingertip too many on the tip of him, and he was shooting his load at the fresher wall. Quin was moaning on top of him, massaging spilled human spunk into the length of him, so of course he had to come again, immediately, and hard.
His hands clenched into the man's chest, until the Kiffar's ribs were welted with red, and the human's whole body went into a paroxysm of pleasure-pain.
Oops. Trembling now, Jaxxon gently turned Quin around and licked the small wounds. Thank the hundred small gods, none of the punctures were serious. Quin wrapped arms around his neck and rested his black mop there, giving him tongue access. He wasn't mad. Or else they were both mad... this had happened before, to both of them. It didn't change anything.
He'd slid to the fresher floor, somewhere along the way, and Quin was kneeling above him. When he'd had enough lapping, Quin's arms pulled him close, away from the wall. It always surprised him how strong he was, for a human. Rising, he hoisted Jaxxon up to his knees again, as if he were stuffed with straw. Then he got Jaxxon by the neck hairs and moved in for another kiss.
It was a relentless sort of kiss. That rough tongue was after every trace of his own blood that might be on the Lepi's fangs. Jaxxon's claws found themselves buried in that inky hair, pulling their faces closer. His tongue was roused to action again; his ears were twitching in all directions. He felt positively feral. And Quin wanted this, was encouraging it.
As he plunged his tongue down the Kiffar's throat again, he felt the vicious scrape of those blunt, flat teeth around the edges. With a shiver, he stopped himself from nipping back with his own, much sharper teeth, contenting himself with reaming out the man's generous mouth, licking up the gushing saliva. He used Quin's hair to tilt his head to the perfect angle for consumption, with Quin all the while threatening to chew him up. How much control did he have left?
"I don't want to hurt you, man, " he gasped, pulling the Kiffar's voracious mouth away for a moment. The dark eyes over the yellow stripe beneath the beetling brows were wild, but the nostrils dilated with an intake of breath, and Quin gave a small nod. He would back down. Jaxxon found himself drooling at the sight of the pulse in the man's neck, not a good sign. He had to do something-- something else.
Hands still in Quin's hair, he pushed the Kiffar back against the splatter of jism on the fresher wall. Gently he rubbed the man with it. Equally gently, he turned the man round and began to lick again.
The taste of come put things back into perspective. The pleasurable squirming of the man, now bracing his arms against the wall, no longer put him on the hunt. Instead, he was giving the kit treatment. He couldn't see, of course, with Quin facing away, but he felt the vulnerable tears the man was shedding at this tenderness. The mop of hair was propped against the wall now, and suspiciously still.
He used the velvety backs of his hands to glide up the Kiffar's legs, as he started to nibble delicately at that rosy ass. At the attention, Quin spread his legs, still hiding his face, but begging for more. Man-musk, nowhere near as powerful as his own, crept into his nose, beguiling but not overwhelming.
Deeper he lapped into that cleft, over the man's perineum, jangling his balls until they contracted, watching the shaft rise and inflate, snuffling hot breaths over the place his fingers had delved so often, wringing groans of pleasure from the standing man. Then he reached around to grab that shaft and take charge of it, and put his tongue right in. First a little bit, to enjoy the flustered contractions of the sphincter, then farther, wriggling a bit to make the man's heels leave the fresher floor.
He could tell, directly through his tongue, that this was a first for Quin. He had done it to others, but never had it done to him. And it was eliciting a similar response to what Jaxxon himself had felt, when he'd been on the receiving end. The pleasure was nearly unspeakable. How fortunate that they didn't need to speak.
Quin had begun to thrust himself deeper into Jaxxon's big hand, trembling so much that his legs shook. A little tendril of predatory instinct tried to insinuate itself into Jaxxon's arousal at that-- he was momentarily tempted to pull his mouth away, to sink his teeth into the hot quivering glutes under his nose. But he took himself in hand as well. He plunged his tongue to the hilt into its living sheath. And stroked himself ever harder with his free hand, until he let loose again with a yell, right into that monkey ass.
Quin almost climbed the fresher wall as he came. Then he fell back against Jaxxon. If there were tears on his stubbly face, they were hidden by the fresher spray. But at last the expression there was one of peace. Jaxxon blinked down at him, bemused.
Then came a gentle tapping at the fresher door. One of the seven other beings on board had need of the facilities. Oh well. He nudged the man on his chest.
"Kim. Kim Kiffar. Get up."
The Jedi rolled his eyes at the use of his alias, and moved away, switching off the fresher spray. Another toggle turned on the blowers, which were loud enough to reassure whoever was waiting outside, that progress was being made in here towards vacating the premises.
Jaxxon stood, getting the full benefit of the blast, watching Quin wrap a towel around himself, shaking it out first in the blower breeze. He was using his feet to nudge clothing to be freshened into the appropriate bin, his chest scored by the new little scratches. The Jedi picked up belt and boots, locks still dripping down his torso, as Jaxxon reached for a clean coverall.
His feet, those brick brown, naked hairless feet, would be getting the same reassurance that his own did, from the floors of home. Well, in his case, the home of a friend. But for how much longer?
Nothing lasts forever, mused the captain of the Rabbit's Foot, pulling up his zip. He might want it to be longer, but at some point, the Jedi would be flitting off on his next mission. Jedi comfort was not a steady sort of work. He looked up at the Jedi in question.
Quinlan Vos, the Jedi who read him like a Lepi, was nowhere to be seen.. Face back in its regulation scowl, Kim Kiffar the smuggler opened the fresher door.
TBC
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