Master Apprentice
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Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and the Holy Moly
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It wasn't a place Obi-Wan would usually put his tongue. And yet, the tip of it kept returning to the soft little hole as if drawn by something stronger than will, testing the flesh there, trying to soothe its soreness.
He sighed, rearranging himself at the foot end of Master Jinn's bunk. The ice pack could probably bear changing again, at least if he didn't want to leave a wet spot on his Master's blankets. Still, it had been a good idea to repair to Qui-Gon's quarters. Being miserable in someone else's room was never quite as easy as being miserable in one's own place - even though the room was technically the same, the standard box that every adult non-aquatic Jedi had assigned as his quarters while at Temple.
The only things that marked this particular box out as Master Jinn's box were a disorderly stack of paper books, a trailing vine with fat greyish-green leaves that spilled out of a woven wire container suspended from the ceiling, a thin blue bathrobe that had taken up permanent residence on the chair in the corner, and Master Jinn himself, currently sprawled in that chair listlessly doing some reading up for an upcoming mission.
"Master?"
"Yes, Padawan?" Qui-Gon gently set the datapad down on the table and turned around to face his apprentice. He looks younger when he's miserable, he thought. Endearingly so. Or maybe that's just the puffy cheek.
"Why can't humans be born with self-replacing teeth? You know, like amurns? One row drops out and the next one's all poised and ready to strike? No force needed, no wound and all that?"
"And I'd have to keep you in a tank and vacuum out all the self-replaced teeth once a month? Personally, I prefer the current version of you. At least I needn't fear for my life if I dare to as much get anywhere near that mouth of yours."
"Certainly not today." Damn, why did that man have to be so stoically calm all the time? "I'm suffering, you know, Master. And you could show a little bit of respect for that." He pouted as much as his swollen jaw allowed him to. Which wasn't much. "And if being aquatic is the price to pay for having superfluous bloody teeth extracting themselves rather than having to be hammered out of my skull by someone with handheld machinery, then I'm all for it." Another attempt at pouting, followed by a grimace as the melting ice pack dribbled water down his chin. "I can't believe he said I'd have to go through this again - isn't there some sort of genetic patch-up for this, for Force's sake?"
Qui-Gon sighed and switched the datapad off. "Well, you do have the option of having the opposite tooth grow longer and longer until it's the size of a dartmaw's. But being located where it is, that formidable weapon would only be good for biting yourself with. And I very much doubt you'd want the genetic make-up of a dartmaw, self-replacing teeth or not. They're not exactly pleasant creatures to share a bunk with."
With that, Qui-Gon stood, stretched himself until his joints popped, and squatted by the side of his pathetic curled-up pile of Padawan.
"Let me have a look."
Reluctantly, Obi-Wan removed both the ice pack and the pout from his face as his Master gently ran thick fingertips over the abused cheek. He'd already had a bout of healing force channelled into the torn flesh just after the anaesthetic had worn off, but while that had dealt with most of the pain, it hadn't helped the swelling at all, and the throb-throb-throb of flesh being rebuilt was slowly driving him mad. Healing force or no, all that blood needed room to do its necessary work, and Obi-Wan was beginning to suspect his jaw was a tad too small to accommodate all of it.
That said, Qui-Gon's fingers grazing his skin were a very welcome distraction -
"Ow!!" Angry grey glare met calm blue gaze.
"Hm. Smaller than I thought it would be already. In a few hours you'll be all right, Padawan."
"Mashter, that hurt! An' I'm not all right now, thank you very much. In fact, I'd very much like to have that dartmaw tooth right now. To bite you with." He knew perfectly well he was being petulant and childish, but he knew just as well that being all stoic and Jedi about the throbbing in his mouth would not grant him Qui-Gon's attention for longer than half a standard minute anyway. And besides, biting his Master was rather high up on Obi-Wan's agenda. Once his mouth was ready to collaborate again.
Qui-Gon smiled indulgently. "I doubt you'd get to enjoy it as much as you do with your pitiful little set of human teeth, Obi-Wan. Dartmaws are mere borderline sentients, animals more than anything else. A bundle of instincts on two long legs, always ready to leap out and bury their fangs in the nearest living thing they can find. They always go all-out - losing a tooth to them is about as inconsequential as losing an eyelash is to us. I have seen dartmaws with their entire skulls smashed in and still mindlessly holding on to their prey, jaws crunching in a feeding fury... not a pretty way to go, Padawan."
"You've seen them? You mean you've met the poor creatures who have to share a planet with these monsters?"
"Oh yes. I suspect I would have been one of them, if it hadn't been for my blood-parents' insistence that I be packed up into that ship with the brown-robed demigods..."
"They... your homeworld?"
"The planet my records tell me was my homeworld anyway, yes. You remember when I went on that brief solo mission a year or so after we'd been paired up?"
"Like yesterday. Just waltzing off like that, my wonderful new Master."
"That must doubtless have been when you started perfecting that pout of yours. Anyway, that mission took me to a system adjacent to the Tihaar cluster, and I took the opportunity to seek out some of their spacefarers and learn a little about what was supposedly my home. They made a great deal of the dartmaws and how terrible they were. Featured greatly in their art and folklore. As did the mystery plant that could defend a Tihaaroth against the dartmaw's bite."
"Which is?"
"They called it the moly. There was not much they were willing to tell me about it though, seeing as I was a stranger to their planet - "
"But you were born there, weren't you?"
"And what does that mean to a random Tihaaroth? Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the Jinn family, if they were called that, aren't notorious enough for everyone on the planet to know them. And I was not in a position to convince them that I belonged to their culture, seeing as I really... well, didn't. Not having grown up there. And my not knowing the myth of the moly made that abundantly clear to them..."
"So they refused to tell you?"
"Indeed. From what I gathered, there is some sort of taboo surrounding the use of said plant anyway, and only a chosen few people can be trusted to employ it to tame the dartmaws with. In took this to mean that the thing is probably highly toxic, and takes special skills to render comestible. Speaking of which, would you care for some light refreshment, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan glared at him as if he had grown alien fangs. Pressing the pitifully melted ice-pack to his cheek, he grumbled, "With all due respect, Master - forget it. I'm not putting anything in my mouth this evening. I very much doubt I'd get it open far enough to."
"Pity." An unaccustomed wickedness bloomed on Qui-Gon's features as he petted his Padawan's cheek. "So I take it you're not about to attempt that little dartmaw impression of yours and bite me ruthlessly?"
Nothing in Obi-Wan's carefully placed pitiful expression could have forewarned Qui-Gon of the catlike pounce that had him tumbling to the floor in a graceless heap, his Padawan on top of him, wincing slightly at the throb in his jaw but grinning triumphantly nevertheless. A pair of deft hands made quick work of the Master's leggings, and before Qui-Gon had quite taken in the dazzling sensation of being stroked with one hot and one ice-pack-cold hand, Obi-Wan had bent down and started nuzzling the stirring penis with his intact cheek, rubbing his short stubble along the sensitive length and convincing Qui-Gon that right now, the floor was just as fine a place to be as anywhere else really.
That was when the door flew open and a grey-clad Padawan burst in, completely ignoring the compromising situation she had found her best mate in.
"Bant!"
"The same," she laughed, in a voice like tarnished bronze. "Really, I don't know why I bother checking your own room any more. you're never in there anyway. So, how is the poor convalescent? Better, I take it?"
Qui-Gon did his best to melt into the carpet while attempting to simultaneously hide his blush and his cock from view. From the surreptitious sideways glance he allowed himself, he could see the Calamarian carrying something green in her webbed hand.
"Here, I've brought you something flowery to cheer you up. My notes on xenobiology say the local people on the planet it comes from attach some meaning to it, and it's got something to do with teeth, so I thought it was appropriate enough..."
"Appropriate enough to hide the fact that you've been sleeping through most of the rest of Master Beot's xenobiology class, you mean? Thanks, fishling. Sweet of you. Very much appreciated." He gingerly hugged her, pressing her face against his intact cheek.
"Well, I can see you're on your way to recovery already, right... so I'll leave you to it, shall I? See you in the morning, no doubt. Bye, Master Jinn!"
And with that, she was out of the door again, as fast as she had come.
On the floor sat a very embarrassed and still half-undressed Jedi Master, an asymmetrical but visibly amused Padawan, and a square grey pot holding a small nest of spear-shaped green leaves with a single flower sticking up in the middle.
Obi-Wan leaned across to pick it up. "Better check this thing for teeth... you never know what the fishling gets up to when it comes to unusual presents." He gingerly fingered the conical rust-red flower, gave a little start as it fell apart into several soft lobes with ragged-looking edges, then raised his eyebrows at the cloud of soft scent enveloping his face.
"Mmmh. Smell that, Master. It's positively... sensual."
The wicked smile on Obi-Wan's face did much more towards rousing Qui-Gon from his comfortable position on the floor than the unappealing brownish red of the flower. Smirking back, he raised himself on to his hands and knees and started prowling towards his lover.
Obi-Wan would have laughed at the ludicrousness of the whole scene - his Master crawling across the floor, and himself holding the weird little flower close to his chest... but the sight of Qui-Gon Jinn prowling towards him, his intentions written all over his face, was just too delicious to allow for any other thought. Hair half-undone, tunics awry, leggings still pooled somewhere around his boot-tops... just the sight of those long thighs gracefully, slowly and inexorably moving in towards him would have been enough to have him on his back with his legs spread any day.
And the look on Qui-Gon's face was nothing short of... predatory.
Arranging himself in a more seductive pose, Obi-Wan pressed the flowerpot to his chest, luring his tame lion closer to sniff at the delicious bloom. And sink his teeth in altogether more willing flesh, eventually.
He was close now, very close. So close Obi-Wan could smell him, that faint male scent of skin and sweat and hair and old sun-bleached linen... his nose almost touched Obi-Wan's chest as he buried it among the rusty-red petals and took a deep breath of the heady scent.
"Gorgeous, isn't it... Master?"
The way Qui-Gon's head snapped up at the words startled Obi-Wan for a moment. The blue eyes narrowed, then widened as if to take Obi-Wan in fully, but no reply was forthcoming. Obi-Wan smiled. Just like his Master to let a pleasant sensation course through his entire body before giving a final verdict. Closing his eyes slowly, then opening them again, Qui-Gon bent down a second time to smell the flower, reverently buried his nose in it -
- and then bit the bloom off its stalk, crushing the velvety petals between his teeth.
A smear of brownish-red juice glistened on the Master's pale lips, painted his teeth a wild and hungry shade of blood red, and Obi-Wan decided to give up trying to make up his mind as to whether surprise, amusement or horniness made up the larger part of his thoughts at that point in time. He would just lie back and enjoy Qui-Gon's little stunt. How considerate of him to want to take his mind off his bloody tooth...
Without warning, Obi-Wan found himself grabbed by the waist and thrown to the ground face-first, his Master's heavy body on top of him, driving the wind out of him. Thank the Force it's my good cheek, he thought as he felt a hand grabbing the back of his neck and pressing him into the floor with ruthless strength. Those steely thighs were clamped around his upper body, pinning his arms to his sides, and struggle as he might, there was no way he would be able to free himself without taking recourse to the Force. And that would be cheating. Still, if Qui-Gon liked it rough tonight, who was he to complain? It was not often he could convince the big man to unleash all his strength and pound into his apprentice like there was no tomorrow.
Obi-Wan moaned in anticipation, wriggling slightly. A growl in his ear was the answer, and the hand on his neck tightened painfully. A shiver ran down the side of Obi-Wan's neck, crawling along his skin underneath the puffs of hot breath from Qui-Gon's mouth. Slowly, slowly the Master was homing in on Obi-Wan's mouth, the vice grip of hand and thighs now almost too painful to bear... but surely he would let go soon, and the growl spoke of a monstrous kiss waiting to drown him in pure sensation, just about now, and he could sense Qui-Gon's mouth drawing nearer, could feel the breath ghosting over his swollen cheek, could smell the scent of the crushed flower on the man's breath, sweet and earthy and hungry...
Obi-Wan yelped as the mouth descended on his nose, enveloping it, crushing his upper lip in the ravenous mouth, biting down hard, hard enough to draw blood. He thrashed wildly, desperate for breath, kicking his feet uselessly under the big body holding him down. The hand on his neck tightened further, and Qui-Gon... Qui-Gon growled into Obi-Wan's abused face, shaking his head wildly from side to side as if to bite off the Padawan's nose. Obi-Wan would have cried out in pain if he had had any breath to do it with, if there wasn't this huge chunk of man crushing him between his thighs, holding his neck in a stranglehold and _biting_ his face... this had gone beyond being erotic. This was terrifying.
Willing his panicking body into relaxation, Obi-Wan gathered the last of his strength to weave a shaky Force-shield around his head. Cheating or not, this was... was that even Qui-Gon in there? This had clearly gone beyond the exciting game he had thought it had started out as.
"Qui-Gon? Qui-Gon!"
No answer but for the growl that seemed to accompany the Master's every breath. But he had let go of his face, growling and crushing Obi-Wan's ribcage between those mighty thighs. Obi-Wan had breath for the time being, but for how long he couldn't tell. Already, Qui-Gon's free hand was swiping angrily at the Force-shield, coming dangerously close to striking Obi-Wan's swollen cheek. Right now, the throb in that was the least of his concerns though. Breathing was far more important. Breathing, and getting this Qui-Gon-shaped beast to stop threatening his life.
It must have been something in that flower. Maybe he's allergic to it. Maybe I ought to get him off me and take him to the healers. Get him off me without endangering my own life... preferably.
If there was a little of Qui-Gon left in the beast, maybe... it was worth a try.
Obi-Wan ceased his fruitless struggles, going completely limp, breathing through his mouth in soft little whimpers, licking his lips, making small needy noises.
The growl quietened. Good.
Carefully, Obi-Wan tried to move his trapped hands. It took him several attempts and quite a few gentle moans to get Qui-Gon to loosen his grip a little. The growl was back, gnawing at Obi-Wan's composure. If his Master hadn't just tried to bite him to death, Obi-Wan would have enjoyed this tremendously - trapped under Qui-Gon's magnificent body, held down defenceless, a thick erection pressing into his back -
Obi-Wan exhaled on a slow moan. It was working.
Oh, it was working. Damn, it was working on him too. All this moaning... dropping his voice to a seductive purr, he carefully slipped his hands over his buttocks, massaging them through the fabric of his leggings, spreading them slowly. More needy noises. Bared throat, total submission. Hoping that Qui-Gon would get the hint. Please.
Obi-Wan shuddered, excess adrenaline meeting the rising arousal in his blood. The pounding had moved from his cheek to his groin long ago... he would just have to ride it out... ride it... oh...
The hand on his neck disappeared, fast, planted itself in the middle of his back. He felt the thick thighs scoot backwards... yes! It was working! He yelled in triumph as he felt his Master's paws shred his leggings and settle on his arse cheeks, spreading them none too gently. Oh, to be taken by this... this... animal that was his Master, to have all that unleashed strength pounding into him... Obi-Wan's hips strained upwards of their own accord, writhing in animal need. A growl, a whimper. He had him where he wanted him. Where he could do no damage - no damage Obi-Wan wasn't willing to take, and certainly no damage he wasn't capable of turning into pleasure...
Nevertheless, Qui-Gon's entry tore a scream from him. Hard and ruthless and unprepared - hard, so wonderfully rock-hard... the Master's cock rammed into him with relentless strength, over and over and over again, so fast it must surely... hurt Qui-Gon... as... well... thinking became very very hard as Obi-Wan felt himself pounded into a moaning mush.
Grunting, he was actually grunting, and hurting his hips where he held on to them, tearing his anus and yet drowning Obi-Wan's helpless body in a shockwave of sheer animal lust, rubbing his prostate raw with every thrust, sending him writhing in the grip of those powerful hands, making him cry out in helpless, mindless lust that throbbed louder than the tiny flares of pain all over his body, throbbed louder than his wide-open mouth, throbbed and demanded to be fed.
And Qui-Gon was doing just that. Feeding. Shoving thick swollen flesh into his body, growling, wild-eyed, teeth bared, hips pumping erratically as he neared his climax, and Obi-Wan rode it out, rode the waves of thick lust swamping his abused body, drank Qui-Gon's roar as he spurted his hot seed into Obi-Wan, acutely felt the big man burying his teeth in Obi-Wan's shoulder, feeding on his Padawan's tender flesh.
Obi-Wan collapsed under the onslaught of sensation, pulsing a long dizzying orgasm into the abused carpet. He knew he should hurt all over, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He felt Qui-Gon's hips still jerking on top of him, felt himself wrapped in hard arms, felt the hardness of that incredible cock still prodding his backside, and felt utterly at ease.
He stretched like a kitten in the iron embrace, and bared his throat in offering.
"...'nobi. Kenobi." He cleared his throat, wincing a little at the raspiness. Yes, he dimly remembered screaming quite a lot last night...
"Thank the Force - I was half afraid you'd had complications or something. Where on Coruscant were you this morning anyway? Master Beot asked about you... your tooth hasn't got worse, has it?"
"Bant. Bant, stop. I'm all right. Well, apart from the fact that I can barely walk... and my tooth..." he made a face to test the suppleness of his cheek, "is just fine."
"Oh good. So the toothsome worked, did it? But what did you do to your legs then?"
"The what worked?"
"Toothsome. That's what they call it where it's from - I sneaked a look at Garen's lecture notes. Well, it translates as 'toothsome' in Standard anyway. I think the native name for it is Molar. Or something."
"Moly."
"That's it. How on Coruscant do you know - you haven't even taken xenobiology yet...?"
"I had... ow," he winced slightly at the sizeable bruise on his hip, "shall we say I had a very practical demonstration of the myths surrounding the moly. By a native of its homeworld, it would appear. Certainly a very potent predator repellent, that flower of yours. Turns the most mild-mannered creature into a savage beast. I suppose you can count yourselves lucky you still _have_ a Padawan Kenobi in your midst. That's assuming I can piece myself back together when I've gathered enough strength to get up off this... floor."
"Qui-Gon is..."
"Out cold, yes. Probably just as sore as me. And hopefully returned to his old gentle Jedi Master self -"
"No, wait, I mean, he is, he is Tihaaroth?"
"It would appear so. Although what he was last night came closer to being a dartmaw."
"A what?"
"Bant?"
"Yes?"
"Do. Your. Research. And next time I'd appreciate a gift of something that oozes a healing ointment. I ache in places I didn't even know could ache."
"But it has taken your mind off your tooth, hasn't it? Point taken."
With a groan, Obi-Wan deactivated the commlink. The beast next to him had begun to stir, and he wasn't entirely sure he hoped it was back to being the gentle Master Jinn who normally lived here...
--- The End ---