Master Apprentice
Archive
Only Slightly Better Than Nothing
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It had been - well - not so good.
Obi-Wan Kenobi lay in his bed, listening to his master snore resonantly beside him, and thought back over the blow job he'd just received. They'd only been lovers for a couple of tens, he and Qui-Gon, and everything else had been wonderful. The sex had been hot and tender and mind-blowingly intense.
All of it except this.
He'd finally come, that much was true, but only because, well, let's face it, he was twenty-one years old and highly oversexed. He could come from watching ice melt. And the worst part was that Qui-Gon thought he'd done it just right.
How do I tell him? Obi-Wan wondered as he shifted restlessly under the thin sheet. He's a Jedi Master, for Force' sake. How will he react if I tell him that how much I hated it?
Beside him, Qui-Gon turned, throwing one arm across Obi-Wan's waist and pulling him back into a tight embrace. Squirming a little to get comfortable, but still unable to sleep, the padawan let himself remember how the evening had gone.
It had started with a very pleasant dinner. He had cooked, of course. They'd live on sandwiches and sliced fruit if Qui-Gon had his way. The tranirsi stew was excellent, if he did say so himself, and the wine Qui-Gon had purchased was a very welcome addition to the meal. Obi-Wan had drank perhaps just a bit too much of it, wallowing in the pleasant buzz it left behind. That, no doubt, was what had given him the courage to ask - no, order! - his master to suck him off.
A particularly loud snore made the bed tremble, and Obi-Wan felt the vibrations through his back, which was pressed tightly against Qui-Gon's chest. He sighed, recalling how the master's cobalt blue eyes had widened at the thought. Qui-Gon had practically crawled under the kitchen table to get to him, unlacing his leggings with those large fingers until Obi-Wan's erection sprang free. He'd taken it in his mouth, and nearly bitten it off when he gagged at the first taste.
Obi-Wan was sure he'd have bruises from Qui-Gon's sharp teeth. He had managed not to fall backwards out of his chair in his urgent need to escape, but it had been a near thing.
"Let's take this someplace more comfortable," Qui-Gon had suggested with a leering smile, apparently thinking that his padawan was aroused by the brief contact. Obi-Wan hadn't argued. Perhaps in the familiarity of their bed, Qui-Gon's obvious enthusiasm would somehow translate into technique.
It had only gotten worse from there. After stretching the younger man out on his back, Qui-Gon had bent over him, steadying his cock with one hand while taking the head into his mouth. Teeth again, and Obi-Wan shuddered, barely able to bite back a yelp. Qui-Gon apparently took the shudder as encouragement, for he took more of Obi-Wan's length into his mouth and proceeded to try to suck the flesh off of him.
"Master!" the padawan had screamed. Instead of stopping, Qui-Gon sucked harder, his tongue pushing Obi-Wan's super-sensitive skin even tighter against the very hard roof of his mouth. Obi-Wan squirmed, hands clinching into the sheets as he struggled not to grab Qui-Gon by the hair and pull him away.
"Gently, master!" he managed to gasp.
Blue eyes locked with his across the flat planes of his stomach and chest, and Qui-Gon froze for all of a millisecond. Then, he began to suck again, with less force, thankfully, but no less enthusiasm. And, to his credit, the master had gotten a little better. The blow job had gone from the worst Obi-Wan had ever had to just mediocre. Better than nothing, but not by much. Amid the cacophony of over-loud slurps and grunts and gurgles, Obi-Wan forced himself to stillness. He'd never been so relieved to finally come, just because it meant the sex was over with for the moment.
Obi-Wan lay there wondering where he'd gone wrong.
He'd gone down on his master several times. He thought back over his own technique, wondering if Qui-Gon simply hadn't been paying attention. Obi-Wan gave great blow jobs. At least, that's what several of his friends had told him over the years. He'd been practicing, hoping that someday he would be allowed to love his master that way, and had wanted his technique to be perfect. And, all that practicing had paid off. Qui-Gon loved it when Obi-Wan used his mouth.
So how was Obi-Wan to tell him that, when it came to sucking off his apprentice, Qui-Gon - well, sucked?
"You're thinking loudly enough to wake the whole Temple," Qui-Gon murmured from behind him.
Obi-Wan stopped breathing. How much had Qui-Gon overheard? Their bond was strong, to be sure, but certainly he couldn't pick out actual thought, could he?
"You want to tell me what you're fretting about?"
Obi-Wan exhaled loudly. "Um, I was just wondering something."
"What?"
Obi-Wan bit his lip, an old habit that he thought he'd broken long ago. This was not going to be fun. "Where did you learn to give blow jobs?"
Qui-Gon sat up, taking most of the sheet with him. Obi-Wan didn't need to turn to see the rather anxious look of puzzlement on the master's face. "Why? Didn't you enjoy it?"
"Well. . . "
"Obi-Wan?"
With a sigh, Obi-Wan rolled over, gazing up into his lover's eyes. "Your technique could use a little work."
Qui-Gon blinked then tore his gaze away. "Oh."
Obi-Wan was quick to reassure him. "Now, don't get me wrong. It wasn't bad, exactly. It just wasn't - wonderful."
Qui-Gon stiffened, obviously hurt, and seemed to draw in on himself. "I apologize, padawan," he said. He started to get out of bed, but Obi-Wan stopped him.
"Wait, Qui. Please?"
The master stopped but kept his eyes down.
Obi-Wan drew a long breath. "You are the most incredible man I've ever met. You're strong, intelligent, incredibly warm and giving, and you are brilliant at everything you do. Well, everything except this, I guess."
Qui-Gon's shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "So, does that mean you don't ever want me to do that to you again?" he asked somewhat despondently.
"No. It just means we need to work on your technique a bit. Would that be okay?"
The blue eyes rose finally to meet Obi-Wan's. "You'd be willing to teach me?"
Obi-Wan grinned. "Why not? I happen to give very good blow jobs, in case you hadn't noticed."
"Oh, I'd noticed." Qui-Gon mirrored his grin. "So, my learned padawan, will you instruct me in this?"
A soft growl was the young man's only answer as he pushed his master back on the bed. A few minutes later, after licking the last of the drying come off Qui-Gon's flaccid cock, he rolled up onto one elbow. "So, did you learn anything?"
"Oh, yes, my beloved." Qui-Gon glanced down at his lover's erection, which was full again and weeping. "But, I think I need to practice my new technique. You can grade me later."
Obi-Wan gasped as his cock was enveloped in his master's moist, hot mouth. "Oh, I think I could do that," he said. Then, he quickly lost the ability to speak under Qui-Gon's careful ministrations.
This time, he thankfully didn't feel any teeth. And, if Qui-Gon still sucked a little too hard or too frantically, and if there were still a few too many distracting grunts and gurgles, at least it wasn't as bad as before. He reached out and caught a double handful of hair - carefully, so as not to hurt his master - and slowed down the speed with which the older man's head was bobbing in his lap. That done, he relaxed and just let himself feel.
Afterward, when he was sated and limp, his lover crawled up beside him.
"So, how did I do?" Qui-Gon asked a bit anxiously.
"Better," Obi-Wan said after considering the question. Then, he grinned wickedly. "But, as you have always told me, the only way to excel at something is to practice, practice, practice."
With that, he pushed his master's head lower, and settled back onto the mattress to enjoy.
The End