Master
Apprentice  Archive
Advanced Crystallography
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"Jinn."
"Oh, come on. Almost two tens of hovering out of commlink reach, and that's all I get? No heated vows, no lustful whispers, not even one of your fucking famous poems... or should that be famous fucking poems..." Obi-Wan's voice trailed off in amusement.
"You know perfectly well, Padawan, that we have exhausted just about every single concept that could possibly rhyme with 'Jinn'" - oh yes, exhausted indeed, Qui-Gon thought, and paused to draw a deep calming breath as images of warm sweaty limbs sprawled on the sheets in delicious exhaustion swamped his mind, "besides, it could have been Mace calling. Or Yoda."
"Ugh."
"Quite. So, Padawan mine, I trust all is well with you? The exam season doesn't seem to have done your famous sense of humour any harm, no? Tell you one thing, there were moments on this mission I dearly wished for a juicy exam to keep my mind from switching off in the middle of supposedly important detail negotiations... the minutiae of Esqeri party politics certainly make advanced crystallography seem like the most exciting thing in the galaxy..."
"You realise, Master, that you're just paving the way for your next solo mission to that silly planet? It's beginning to sound less and less likely I'll be keen to come with you in the future... especially when there's advanced crystallography to be had. Not to mention xenobiology, technical calculus, and Humanoid Anatomy For Non-Healers..."
"Sounds like an interesting combination to me, Padawan." The teasing tone in Obi-Wan's voice had been unmistakable, and Qui-Gon was not at all averse to a hot session of comm-sex, given the chance. Even if he only had six standard hours to planetfall.
Obi-Wan chuckled, and the warm little noise made thick heat bubble up in Qui-Gon's underbelly. Oh, two tens were definitely too long for new lovers...
"Interesting, my foot. And Twi'lek digestive systems. And Thisspiasian mammary glands. Believe me, Master, others' anatomies aren't half as 'interesting' as yours, at least to me. Especially in that slinky green thing you wore the night before you left..."
The sound of lips being licked filled Qui-Gon's heart. "You know what you did to that dress, Obi-Wan... I doubt Pehe has had the time to even consider restoring it." Over the bond, Qui-Gon's mind was flooded with a very clear image of nimble hands tearing the thin deep green fabric, ripping it top to bottom in the greedy rush to expose more of that warm sweat-scented skin. He saw himself, eyes glazed with lust, shreds of green fabric clinging to his body, mouth open in a gasp as Obi-Wan had found those perfect spots almost by accident, and massaged them relentlessly until his Master had been reduced to a whimpering, moaning, gorgeous wreck.
The boy was a fast learner, that much was obvious.
And his pout was almost audible over the commlink. "So... no exciting ceremonial costumes they made you wear? Nothing to surprise your poor sex-starved Padawan with?"
Poor sex-starved Padawan. Qui-Gon grinned to himself. To think that two tens ago Obi-Wan had been mortified at showing his bare arms in public... the boy was a fast learner. And an eager one.
"Nope, sorry, Obi-Wan. Unless you can manage to Force-nudge yourself into forgetting what I look like... in which case I could surprise you with a dose of the usual..."
Obi-Wan snorted, and Qui-Gon's commlink reproduced that as a slightly obscene sound. "Oh right, a routine bit of the old old Master. Don't give me that, Qui-Gon. And if you're not doing the surprising, maybe _I_ should... hmmm. See you in six hours, Master. Love you."
And with that, the connection went dead.
Advanced crystallography. With practical applications. And Humanoid Anatomy. The little furrow of determination between Obi-Wan's brows deepened as he fished around his drawer for his lecture notes, then disappeared, in strict order, to Pehe Vaurt's workshop, to the 'sabre tech lab, and finally, to the Healers' ward. The walk-in section.
Obi-Wan looked the very picture of Jedi normality, sitting on the sofa in the common room, keeping half an eye on something simple and nourishing baking in the oven, and focusing his remaining one-and-a-half eyes on a game of three-dimensional solitaire. He had sensed his Master coming a long way away, and had briefly allowed himself to grin at how the fact that he had sensed his Master coming right on top of him had improved his mental sensitivity for Qui-Gon's presence no end.
When the door slid open and Qui-Gon came in, nothing betrayed the fact that Obi-Wan had spent the best part of the last few hours methodically preparing for tonight.
And nothing pointed to Qui-Gon expecting anything, despite his Padawan's earlier allusions. They exchanged a long but chaste welcome kiss, Qui-Gon dumped his bag in the bedroom, and Obi-Wan served the simple meal he had fixed. Just like an old bonded couple, the young man grinned to himself. Almost.
Finally, Qui-Gon pushed his plate aside and leaned across the table, face dangerously close to Obi-Wan's. The spice on his breath smelled delicious, especially coming from the wet warmth of Qui-Gon's mouth... but Obi-Wan remained steadfast, determined to stare the older man down, goad him into making the first move. //Oh Force, let him pounce, please let him pounce...//
//I heard that.//
Faster than breath, Qui-Gon had pulled his squirming Padawan halfway across the table, one huge hand cupping the back of his head, mouth diving in for a delicious attack on Obi-Wan's wet lips. With a greed entirely unbecoming a Jedi Master, Qui-Gon fed on his young lover's slowly parting lips, sweeping his tongue over them gently, begging entrance into the sweet moist warmth.
Oh, the taste was familiar, a hint of spice tinting the glorious clean fleshy flavour of Obi-Wan's mouth... but there was something... Qui-Gon couldn't quite put his finger on it. The tip of his tongue, however, was most definitely on it. Whatever _it_ was. Curiosity aroused (among other things, he thought dimly), he explored deeper, drawing a delighted moan from Obi-Wan who was slinking down on the tabletop under the questing assault of Qui-Gon's tongue.
It was right in the centre of Obi-Wan's tongue, where it was strongest and smoothest and warmest and wettest... and _it_ was small and hard and unevenly shaped and tasted faintly metallic. And its very presence in his mouth seemed to please Obi-Wan greatly, at least if the increasing writhing was anything to go by... the temperature in the room had definitely risen by a good few degrees, Qui-Gon decided in a last desperate fit at Masterly rationality, and it was time to get rid of those clothes.
He bent down slightly, leaving his mouth fastened on to Obi-Wan's and teasingly exploring that hard little thing on the young man's wriggling tongue while stripping off his belt and tunics. Immediately, Obi-Wan grabbed Qui-Gon's shoulders, pulled himself upright, and latched on to Qui-Gon's freshly exposed nipples, suckling blissfully until both were tiny hard peaks of dark brown flesh and their owner was purring in delight.
When Obi-Wan stuck his tongue out to lave the erect little buds, a glimmer of red hit Qui-Gon's senses through the haze of warm pleasure, and he jerked away almost instinctively... but it couldn't be... blood? Obi-Wan smiled, sensing his Master's shock. Shaking his head slowly, he let his tongue snake out again to its full impressive length, tip just touching Qui-Gon's chest.
In the centre of Obi-Wan's tongue sat a perfect round ruby.
"Howmmmmmmfhhh..." No, Obi-Wan was definitely not in the mood for explanations, and Qui-Gon wisely decided to go with the flow. Especially as that entailed being kissed speechless by that hot, ruby-adorned mouth.
Hands roamed over the young body draped so wantonly across the table. That belt and sash had to come off. And those tunics. And... oh.
Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open at what his fingertips had told him. Yes, those nipples were hard. But one was... harder. Incredulous, Qui-Gon stared, then swallowed. Then stared some more. That was a sun, a jagged blue sun the size of Qui-Gon's thumbnail, made from a crude piece of naturally veined sapphire. And at its centre sat the tight rosy bud of Obi-Wan's right nipple.
Mesmerised, Qui-Gon touched the rough jewel, felt its swirling edges, gave it a little tug. It... oh Force. Blood shot to Qui-Gon's cock, bringing it from warm arousal to painful hardness in seconds just as Obi-Wan caught his amazed gasp in his relentless mouth.
The sapphire sun was mounted on a little silver spike that pierced Obi-Wan's delicate flesh. Mad with desire, Qui-Gon tore his mouth away from the kiss and dove down for a taste of this decadent treat, the warm salty nipple encircled by cool radiant blue fire. He felt his lips tingle and hum at the touch, and let his hands work on autopilot as they scrabbled to tear off both his own and Obi-Wan's leggings and underpants.
Inside Obi-Wan's decidedly ordinary leggings was... well, not quite the warm silken touch of the young man's skin. It was, a cautious glance revealed, the warm silken touch of warm silk. Qui-Gon breathed a sigh of relief. Silk boxers he could take. Off, especially. And fast.
And then his mouth dropped open, and Obi-Wan took the opportunity, in slow motion, to take Qui-Gon's head in his hands and guide his weeping erection into the amazed 'o'. Swallowing, and drowning in a long soft moan from Obi-Wan, the Master gathered the remnants of his wits to conjure up a mental image of what he had just seen, and what he was just tasting.
A wide thin band of silver wrapping snugly around Obi-Wan's thick hardness, just below the head. And on it, a perfect contrast to the deep throbbing pink of the crown, a large and luminous lozenge-shaped emerald. It caressed the roof of his mouth as Qui-Gon eagerly suckled at Obi-Wan's flesh, drawing ever more urgent moans from his lover, moans that stoked the fire in his own groin to mind-searing heat... and just as he was ready to give in and frantically pump himself to completion, Obi-Wan jerked out of his mouth in a desperate effort of will and beckoned his Master to join him on the table.
There was no resisting the lure of the Padawan's swollen moist lips, and that glimmer in his eyes. Eyes that were almost as green as that emerald... and Qui-Gon knew, no, felt, with the last shreds of rational thought, that Obi-Wan was directing him, nudging him to straddle the young man's hips as he lay wriggling on the table, slick cock shining with silver and emerald and skin... and the urge to sink down on that eager column of hot flesh was just too much to resist... Force, man, use the Force...
Both men groaned as the relief of physical joining washed through them. So close, so tight and so full, flesh clenched hotly around throbbing flesh... they could have stayed like this forever.
Until Obi-Wan started bucking. Short, sharp thrusts of hips at first, then more insistent pushes, levering Qui-Gon and himself off the table, only to crash back down with a thick satisfying thump. And again. Slow, heavy thrusts, massaging that hidden spot within Qui-Gon's body to warm twitching life. "Mmm...more..." The Master's voice was very nearly incoherent, a deep lustful rumble, and Obi-Wan bit his lip in concentration, then thrust again. And again. And again.
Qui-Gon lost control of his own body. Keening helplessly and riding Obi-Wan's hard shaft like a man possessed, hard and fast and frenzied, he clawed his nails into his own palms for balance, so as not to reach out to the rain of sparkling green stars that was filling him, exploding in a shower of undescribable pleasure every time the head of Obi-Wan's cock raked over that glowing hot spot within. Stars, glittering stars, Prickling, bright, glorious heat coursing through his nerves, filling him up from bottom to top, driving him to helpless wordless cries and moans until the stars had filled his whole head and erupted out of his mouth in a bright green yell of interminable joy.
Qui-Gon awoke to a sticky feeling on his belly, and a warm ache inside him. Slowly, he willed his nerve endings into action again, cataloguing the state of his body. He had collapsed on the table, Obi-Wan underneath him, still inside him, covered with his seed, face relaxed in a blissfully open-mouthed stupor.
Smiling insanely, Qui-Gon nuzzled kisses along Obi-Wan's jaw, finally diving in for another deep taste of that ruby-adorned tongue. Slowly, Obi-Wan came awake under his kiss, wriggling against him, stretching, slipping his warm limp cock out of Qui-Gon. The emerald created a slight tingling sensation as it slid past the tightening ring of muscle, and Qui-Gon stared deep into Obi-Wan's eyes for an answer.
He tasted one on the young man's mouth. A chuckle, a tightening of the lips in a smile. Reluctantly, he let got of his Padawan's delicious lips and awaited an explanation.
Emerald green eyes smiled up at him. Wickedly.
"Advanced crystallography, Master. With practical examples. These were my first attempts at artificials... they proved too small to be put to proper use, so I got to keep them. Even though they were susceptible enough to the Force, as I think you couldn't help noticing..."
Qui-Gon nodded mutely, overwhelmed. "You mean..."
"Yesh," Obi-Wan agreed, burying his face in Qui-Gon's hair. "Lightsabre crystals."
---The End---