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"Five Boy Curry "Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: NC 17 Warnings: language, yaoi, het Summary: sharing a blanket leads to storytime Pairings: 1x2, 11x2, others tba? Note: "Five Boy Curry" is an actual recipe I got from an in-law who grew up on a Philippine island. I was cooking some curry the other day and the name reminded me of the five gundam boys
" Five Boy Curry "
Part 4. "Her Imperial Majesty's Eternally Devoted Vizier presents: Trowa, Player for the Palace Performers." Wufei had completed his sword display to enthusiastic acclaim. With the excuse of taking a respite, he sat upon the ottoman next to golden-haired Quatre. Although the warrior seemed not the least winded by his exercise, and the mathematician merely had been an observer, the two young men appeared rather flushed. And their proximity might have been somewhat closer than actually called for by the size of the sofa, as they grazed shoulders and admired the newcomer. Zechs had stepped to the foot of the elevated throne, the better to view all individuals participating in his evolving orchestration. Trowa knelt before the Empress. Then rose effortlessly at her gestured command. The youth was tall, but showed a willowy grace, from his least to his grandest motion. His boots had silent suede soles, but colorful fabric uppers which ended well below his knees. There came then a magnificent stretch of naked legs, culminating under tumbler's tight trunks. Another length of nude skin, taut over abdominal muscles. His loose shirt was tied carelessly across his middle ribs. Long flared sleeves were tightly cuffed to allow his hands a legerdemain freedom. The neck of this garment was so wide as to droop askew, leaving a luxurious shoulder open to view. For decoration, the young man had a bright scarf knotted across his forehead, a single golden hoop earring, and a gold-framed emerald nestled in his naval. As for his handsome face, there was plenty of humor there to be found. Provided the viewer gave up on his somber mouth. And looked instead into his gem green eyes, scantly visible under a ragged thatch of auburn bangs. "A player? What instruments do you favor?" the Empress asked. "For virtuoso solos, I prefer the flute. But when singing precludes a woodwind, I accompany myself by lute." "This young man speaks in verse. For company we could find worse. Lovely Trowa, sing for us." "Would My Gracious Lady prefer a classic from the masters? Or an instantaneous composition?" "Most definitely, extempore. Compose for us a romance ballad. You may gaze upon Quatre and Wufei for inspiration." "Very good, M'Lady," Trowa smiled slightly, before directing his attention toward the two young men lounging upon the ottoman. He drew the lute from its strap upon his back and strummed it subliminally. Testing the accuracy of its tuning, humming thoughtfully upon his new composition. Then he commenced singing, striking the notes accurately as the edges of sound warbled true. "Lest morning fold too soon into the noonday sun
Golden hair so soon to silver turns its nature No sharper sword stroke than thy killing looks may slice
Then let us toward our Goddess turn our faith revived
As he concluded, Trowa's hand departed the strings, to flutter through the motions of that ancient obeisance, his fingers touching forehead and heartbeat, before his flourish and bow. "A graceful devotional, indeed," the Empress murmured. "I must protest," Zechs declared. "The young bard composed phrases for Quatre and Wufei. But only included me at the climax. And then only to improve the merits of his meter. Plus he called me a second. I believe I may feel insulted," the Vizier chuckled. "The first verse is available for the seizing," Trowa stated with a wicked glimmer in his eyes. "And you have my permission to apply its tenets to the person of the composer," the Empress added. "I shall accept it in recompense," Zechs agreed. "How did it run now? 'Let us kiss while yet our love strokes...something to that effect?" And suiting action to words, the Vizier wrapped a strong arm about the balladeer's slender waist, drawing him into a brief, vigorous caress.
"What's that?" Duo asked somewhat dizzily. "Just a scrap of poetry that came to me out of the dark beyond," she replied. "Some men are not much into kissing. Does Yuy like to kiss you?" She ran her tongue over his somewhat pouting lower lip before sealing her mouth upon his. But released him so that he could reply. "There's just no part of Heero's body that he doesn't use expertly," Maxwell explained. "When he touches you, you get a thorough going-over. And he does tend to use his mouth while his hands are, erm, otherwise employed." "I'm picturing that," she told him. She grasped his erection, slowly lowering herself luxuriously upon it. Suddenly a rain of percussives outside signaled more explosive collisions with their hull. The vessel's upsurge dropped her abruptly onto her partner's body. Upon this violent coupling, they both vocalized loudly in unison. "Things are getting better. Or worse. Depending on your perspective," Maxwell gasped. "Better. Definitely better," Une declared. ~ * ~
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