Category: humorish, not much plot. (does that count as a
category, really?)
Pairing: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan
Spoilers: Nah. Obi-Wan's about 20.
Series: Maybe. Sequel to "Trade".
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns the fun stuff. I own a Power Mac
G3 and a pair of combat boots.
Archive: M_A, SWAL, whoever else wants it - just ask first
Summary: Jedi training is comprehensive, and has many uses.
Feedback: is encouraging. (And now that I know the proper
etiquette, I'll even write back to say thanks! A smack on the
head for myself, and chocolate Jedi to anyone I neglected.)
This story is dedicated to my favorite pedantic Englishman.
Qui-Gon stepped into his apprentice's bedroom. "Obi-Wan , I -"
What in the name of the Force was he... oh. Oh. Damn. //I
didn't know you could really...//
Obi-Wan was sitting on his bed, naked, with his legs spread
apart, bent double, with his head... in a place Qui-Gon had
never imagined it would be. Not that he objected.
Obi-Wan uncurled himself at the sound of his Master's voice,
tossing his head back and smiling. "There's this thing called
knocking, Master."
"Yes, well, I... was expecting you to be studying, or
something."
"I was. Remember those flexibility exercises I was teaching to
the first-level Padawans' class? I was just wondering how else
they could be applied, and.."
"And you just thought you might like to try your hand at
auto-fellatio."
"Is that what it's called?"
"Mmm." Qui-Gon nodded.
"Well, it did seem like an interesting idea..." Obi-Wan looked
down at his now-flaccid penis, and then stole a glimpse of his
Master. "At least it had an effect on someone."
"Hmm?" Qui-Gon rearranged his tunics and developed a sudden
fascination with Obi-Wan's collection of tiny crystal animals.
"Bant gives them to me."
"Hmm?"
"The figurines."
"Oh. Er...yes. Was just noticing them now. Cute."
"So you came in here to look at my figurines while I'm naked?"
"Your what? Oh. Mmm. Nice, those."
"The ones on the shelf, or..."
"Hmm?"
"Master..." Obi-Wan's voice turned silky. "I think you're
trying to avoid something." He stood up and slipped behind his
Master, sliding his arms around his waist. "You're being a..."
He slowly ran his hands up the taller man's thighs, cupping his
not-so-well-hidden erection. "...tease."
"Obi-Wan...." A growl.
"Master, it's not like this is entirely unprecedented. We *did*
spend last night..."
"I'm well aware of what we spent last night doing."
"Second thoughts?"
Qui-Gon spun around and took hold of Obi-Wan's wrists. "Not a
one." A grin slowly materialized on his face. "Now, I believe
you were in the middle of something?"
"Master?"
"Back on the bed, Obi-Wan. I want to see just how much
flexibility you *can* demonstrate."
Obi-Wan flopped back onto the bed. "You.... you...."
"Sit up, Padawan, and begin the demonstration." Qui-Gon sat
down in the desk chair, facing the bed.
"Very well, Master." Obi-Wan arranged himself on the bed at the
most convenient viewing angle, slowly and carefully folding
himself in half.
"Impressive control."
"Mmpgh?" Obi-Wan asked from around his cock.
"Never mind, Padawan. Continue." //I wonder why I didn't think
of this exercise earlier. He looks so beautiful like this...//
Obi-Wan's entire body convulsed with his orgasm. He swallowed
every last drop, then slowly uncurled his body and smiled
decadently up at his Master. "Well?"
Qui-Gon stood, with some difficulty. "Well.... it won't make it
into the standard training course anytime soon, but it's an
excellent application of the principles."
Obi-Wan groaned exaggeratedly. "Master... you know that's not
what I meant!"
"I know. It's time for dinner, Obi-Wan. Some of us haven't
eaten yet." And with that, Qui-Gon grinned and exited the room,
leaving his hapless Padawan guessing yet again.
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