Learning Experience

by micehell (micehell at rodentinferno dot com)

Fandom: TPM
Archive: any list archive
Category: (pairing) O/a hand, intimations of Q/O; PWP, humor
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: hints of underage masturbation, a bit of OOC-ness
Summary: A couple of weeks after Obi-Wan's twelfth birthday, he started having strange dreams.
Feedback: As you will.
Disclaimer: The only thing that belongs to me is a little effort and a lot of debt. Everything else belongs to not me.
A/N: Written for my MMOM Multi-Fandom Wank Fest, Mark II.

A couple of weeks after Obi-Wan's twelfth birthday, he started having strange dreams. He could never clearly remember them the next morning, but they left him feeling unsettled.

They also precipitated the rise in the number of times he had to change his sheets.

Time passed, the dreams became more frequent, and the laundry room staff started leaving notes with Obi-Wan's sheets, asking him if he had some sort of medical condition. Obi-Wan could only worry about where it would end.

After a week where he had the dreams every night, Obi-Wan took to washing his sheets out in his sink, leaving them to dry over what little space he had in his room. It looked like something out a ghost story, and nothing like the neat and tidy quarters a Jedi initiate was supposed to maintain. Obi-Wan could only assume the worst when U'Pal, the master in charge of his section, came to his room on that seventh morning, looking around him with a mildly curious expression.

"Come and see me after you're done with classes for the day."

Obi-Wan had visions of black marks on his record, of being let go from the Temple, or at least of being forced to work in the laundry room, but none of those visions prepared him for what Master U'Pal really did say.

"What you really need is a good wank."

Obi-Wan had already had the requisite sexual education classes, covering a host of species, which had left him with a sense of amazement over how many permutations of genitalia and sexual practices there were in the galaxy. It had also left him a little excited by some, and a little scared by others.

The lecture on wanking, as Master U'Pal kept insisting on calling it, and the book of hundreds of variations on said practice that he'd been gifted with, had just left him deeply embarrassed.

That embarrassment, plus his newly found dedication to practicing with a saber, which left him too sore and tired to have energy for much else, solved Obi-Wan's laundry problems, and managed to raise his skill levels so much that he impressed several masters, including Qui-Gon Jinn.

The newly-made padawan was happy to finally be chosen, and to finally go on missions as he'd always dreamed about, missions that would take him from one end of the galaxy to the next.

He was also happy that he'd never have to hear Master U'Pal talk about petting the Ewok again.

Over the years, Obi-Wan had eventually fallen prey to his hormones again, as Qui-Gon didn't seem inclined to let him practice with his saber as much as he had been. Instead of dealing with the embarrassment of explaining the sheet problem to his master, Obi-Wan dealt with the embarrassment of reading the book U'Pal had given him.

It was a revelation.

So many different techniques, so many different variations on them, and they all felt so very good. And they were all Obi-Wan's to use, any time he wanted. Well, not so much any time he wanted, and that itself was a problem until he learned a couple of Force tricks that had a rather deflating effect. Still, he was free to use what the book had taught him as often as he could.

And he did.

On those many missions with Qui-Gon, that took them from one end of the galaxy to the next, Obi-Wan learned quite a few things that weren't in the book, and, really, some of them were so good they could have had a whole chapters of their own.

Thinking about the book, and its limitations, Obi-Wan started keeping a journal of all that his own studies had found, vaguely thinking about perhaps one day making a book of his own. As a public service, of course.

Five years of journal-keeping, and countless hours of good, dirty fun later, and yet none of it had quite prepared Obi-Wan for what he was doing now.

Which, for all his research, was really very tame.

He ran one hand up his cock, already half-hard, and smiled as it twitched with the sensation. It swelled further, far past the size of any of Obi-Wan's previous experiences, and he laughed in joy at the monster that he held.

One finger circled the head, pressing hard right under the ridge, and his breath caught at how good it felt. So responsive, even for all its size.

He had started to leak a little, and he spread the viscous fluid down his length, letting it smooth his way. He hissed a little when, spread too thin, it started to dry, going tacky, tiny pinprick burns as flesh clung to flesh just a second longer than it should. A shudder passed through him, the ghosting pain a solid pleasure.

His movements got quicker, and he jacked his cock harder, the flesh so hard in his hands, almost like a living thing in the movements it made in the lull between strokes. His other hand, so large and warm, slid down one hairy thigh, the other, ducking between them even as he spread the long legs out further, exposing his sack to the easy company of his hand.

A couple of quick pulls on the sack, before he held the balls firmly in his hand, the strength of the fingers almost as much of a rush as the feel of them, and Obi-Wan's breathing got louder, harsher, as he came nearer and nearer a point he desperately wanted to get to, and yet never wanted to know.

His master was always telling him to live in the moment, and that thought made Obi-Wan laugh, considering, but neither the laughter, the thought, or the desire to stay like that forever made any impact on his body, as the balls pulled up tightly and his cock pulsed in dying need.

As he cleaned up what he thought was an excessive amount of come - and there was a downside to being so well-endowed, and who would have thought it - Obi-Wan looked over the body he was in. He was still having problems adjusting to his center of gravity being so much higher than he was used to, but the strength in this frame, the pleasure that this body could feel, were all definitely on the plus side of the column.

Of course, they'd been assured by the Pratians that the effect would be temporary. His master hadn't looked happy about it, which had amused Obi-Wan, seeing that scowl on his own face, but he'd hid it well, at least until they were led to their separate rooms, where he'd given into a fit of the giggles, spurred on by how they sounded in Qui-Gon's deep voice.

The Pratians had told them that the Changing Ceremony was a deeply spiritual one; a solitary time, when they could think upon how they viewed themselves, and thereby everyone else, while looking through different eyes. They had a day until it ended, just one rotation until the change disappeared, though hopefully their insights wouldn't.

Qui-Gon hadn't seemed overly impressed with their explanations, especially as he hadn't been asked if he wanted to participate in the ceremony, but he'd agreed in the end.

Obi-Wan hadn't been asked, either, but he was certainly thinking in the time he had, and he didn't want to waste a minute of it. He was only sorry that he didn't have his datapad with him, as he was pretty sure that some of the things he'd come across over the years would work even better on this body.

He felt a niggle of guilt about what he was doing, but then he smiled. It wasn't like he was harming Qui-Gon's body any. In fact, with all the endorphins Obi-Wan planned to release, he was probably doing the man a favor.

And who knew what Qui-Gon was up to with his body?

Only one day back in his own, and Obi-Wan already missed Qui-Gon's body. Seeing over the crowd at the spaceport would have been so much easier with that extra height.

He just sighed and followed his master as the man easily found his way through the crowd to their ship. They made it on board, informing the pilot that they were ready to leave, then settled in the galley as they waited for lift-off.

Obi-Wan felt tired. He wondered if it was an intellectual thing, from all the sleep he hadn't had while in Qui-Gon's body, or if it was something left over from Qui-Gon being in his. He couldn't help but smirk at the thought, and tried to imagine what his master might have been likely to get up to.

The small ship shook a little during its ascent, but the pilot was good, and they moved quickly out from the planet, hitting hyperspace in minutes, leaving them free to get up and move around as the ship made its way home.

He was thinking about getting some sleep when he heard Qui-Gon clear his throat. There was a slight flush on his master's cheeks, which Obi-Wan was pretty sure he'd never seen before, and he was momentarily distracted by thoughts of how many new things he'd seen over the last couple of days. He felt himself smirking at the thought, but managed to stop when his master started speaking.

"Padawan, while I was in your body..."

It was at that point that Obi-Wan's brain shorted out for a minute, only a strong will, Jedi training, and the look Qui-Gon was giving him bringing his focus back from the strangely erotic daydream those words had given him. It was unusual, because as much of an expert as Obi-Wan had become on petting the Ewok, he'd yet to be enticed into translating that knowledge into something else. Still. "Yes, Master?"

Qui-Gon held up the datapad, the one Obi-Wan used for his journal. "While I was... temporarily occupying your body, I found this. Do you want to explain?"

Obi-Wan wanted to explain all right, explain why going through someone's private things was just not done. He ignored the fact that what he did with Qui-Gon's body might not have exactly been the done thing either. "That's my private journal. What were you doing looking through it, especially considering you knew you were only temporarily occupying my body?"

Looking every inch the dignified Jedi that he was, a trick Obi-Wan hadn't been able to pull off when he had that body, Qui-Gon said, "It was, after all, supposed to be a learning experience. I was simply trying to get to know my padawan better."

Under Obi-Wan's most glacial stare, the dignified Jedi look folded like a pack of cards. "Okay, I was curious, and... and a little bored, since we didn't have anything to do and they were keeping us in our rooms."

Obi-Wan bowed his head, acknowledging what Qui-Gon was saying, thinking all the while that he'd made much better use of his own alone time.

Qui-Gon bowed in return, then moved right back in on the offensive, years of diplomacy work making him adept at glossing over anything he didn't want to discuss. He waved the datapad in Obi-Wan's face, the source of the needed explanation, whatever that might be. "Now, about what you wrote after that one mission on Kry'lsk. Did you seriously do that? The amount of Force control necessary for something like that... well, you do realize that you could have seriously injured yourself if your attention had... drifted?"

He drew a blank for a moment about what he'd wrote after Kry'lsk, but when he remembered what he'd wrote, and what he'd done, Obi-Wan blushed. And flushed. It was embarrassing to be discussing this with his master - and didn't that just bring back memories of U'Pal, which, even after all this time, were still kind of traumatic - but, oh, that time after Kry'lsk had been just... lovely. He really should try that again some time.

Seeing Qui-Gon in front of him, still expecting an answer, Obi-Wan shelved that thought for later. "Yes, Master. But after all, it was a learning experience."

Qui-Gon wasn't amused at having his justifications thrown back at him. "You are not to do those types of exercises alone anymore."

Obi-Wan simply bowed his head again, knowing better to argue with any direct commands his master gave him. It wasn't like there weren't plenty of other things he could do.

Then the emphasis of his master's statement came home to him. "Soooo... I'm just not to do them when I'm alone?"

Qui-Gon smiled, the same one he gave after Obi-Wan had passed some difficult test. "That's correct, Padawan. After all, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself without someone around to help you if need be. And some of the things in this journal... well, it's a good relationship when the student has things he can teach the master, isn't it? I'm especially interested in that trick you learned to do on Vion. I think it might be very well adapted to a less solitary pursuit, don't you?"

Obi-Wan's mouth was hanging open, partly shock over the things his master was saying, and partly distraction over working on the logistics of using two people for that thing he'd learned on Vion.

The shock faded as he worked things out in his head, the images that went with it sending a thrill of arousal through his body. He thought about Qui-Gon's cock, and how it had barely fit in his hand, even when that hand had been much larger than the one he was currently clenching in anxiety. Qui-Gon thought he was going to put that thing into the much smaller hole in Obi-Wan's ass?

Obi-Wan didn't even bother asking the question, the thrill of arousal turning into something more like a flood at the images that went with that thought. He grabbed his master's very large hand, saying "Yes," and "Now, please," as he dragged him to one of the cabins, having just enough presence of mind to tell the pilot not to call them until they'd reached Coruscant.

And that trick he'd learned on Vion? It was even better with two.