Work Text:
Qui-Gon walked into the living room with a glass of water in his hand. He saw Dooku sitting on the sofa, with his laptop resting on his knees. Dooku was wearing a pair of glasses with thin silver frames, something Qui-Gon had never seen before. The glow of the screen reflected off the lenses, making it a little hard for him to see Dooku’s eyes.
Qui-Gon walked over and set the glass down. He knelt down, one knee sinking into the sofa as the soft cushion gave under his weight. Dooku noticed him approaching and lifted his head to look at him. The annoying reflection of the laptop’s screen was finally gone, and Qui-Gon could see into that pair of familiar warm brown eyes.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
Dooku gave a soft laugh when he heard Qui-Gon’s words, as if he heard something amusing. “It’s my reading glasses,” he said, “I wear them when I need to stare at screens.”
“So, old man’s glasses.” Qui-Gon teased, his voice carrying a touch of feigned mockery.
Dooku huffed, unable to keep the smile from slipping into the corners of his eyes and mouth.
“Call it whatever you like.” He said.
The younger one didn’t say anything more, only giving a soft hum as a response. He stared at Dooku for a moment; the other had already turned his gaze back to the screen, finishing up his work. The silver-rimmed glasses suited him, Qui-Gon thought. He had never really imagined what Dooku might look like with glasses, but the sight before him felt exactly as it should. Nothing about it seems strange or unfit.
Qui-Gon leaned closer. He reached out a hand, the tip of his fingers lightly touching the bridges of that pair of glasses. With a slight curl of his hand, he slipped them off. Dooku turned to look at him, but before he could manage to say anything, Qui-Gon already closed the last few inches between them, and something soft landed on his lips.
Qui-Gon would let his hair fall loose sometimes when he was at home. And he’s like that tonight. So the loose strands would brush against Dooku’s cheeks gently, and it feels a little itchy. He moved, tentatively brushing his tongue across Dooku’s lower lip, with a softness that almost feels like a plea, yet at the same time, there’s no indication of backing up. The elder one’s breath caught for a brief moment, but he went on to part his lips slowly and quietly, granting a silent permission. Qui-Gon felt the response, and he just got braver. He deepened the kiss with the tenderness he only reserved for Dooku, the one he loves with all his heart, and their breaths gradually blended into one. His tongue traced every corner of Dooku’s mouth, gently and unhurried, free of any aggression or lust. All it ever carried was the sense of reverence and the unspoken weight of love he felt toward the man before him.
Qui-Gon eventually pulled away and put some distance between them. Both of them were a little breathless. The warmth that had lingered between their lips made the air around them even softer. Qui-Gon was still watching his older lover. He simply couldn’t look away. He had always been quietly fond of those rare moments when Dooku’s composure slipped just a little, even if he’d never told this to Dooku himself.
Dooku simply took his glasses back from Qui-Gon’s hand and put them on once again. Then he reached out, gently ruffling his love’s hair. He said nothing.
END.