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"Sex, Pilots, and Videotape"Written By: Heartfelt Disclaimer: Don't own anything Gundam Wing, only wish I did (sigh!) The original characters are mine, ALL MINE!! Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Lemon, Yaoi. PWP Pairings: 3x4, 1x2 Summary: Sequel to 'Action' Spoilers: absolutely none Feedback: Yes, yes, please, yes!!! AN: My first 3x4 lemon. Hope it doesn’t suck!
^_^ The title is ‘borrowed’ from the movie
“Sex, Lies, and Videotape, which I also do not own. " Sex, Pilots, and Videotape"
Bent over to examine Duo’s rather impressive vid-disc collection, Quatre was unaware of the pair of silent eyes admiring him. In the doorway of the rec room, there was Trowa, watching as clingy spandex stretched flatteringly across the blonde’s cute, little tush. The Sandrock pilot’s unusual outfit consisted only of a loose, white tank top, tight, stretchy shorts, and not much else. As Quatre doubled over further to peer more closely at a particular title, the material outlined his slender thighs, highlighting the fact that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Trowa felt his already skin-tight jeans become noticeably smaller and decided to make his presence known before the innocent show his partner was putting on made him do something rash. The last thing in the world he wanted was to force his attentions on his beautiful, unaware comrade. “Been raiding Heero’s closet, little one?” With a gasp, Quatre straightened, whirling around to face the tall youth lounging in the doorway. As always, the sound of Trowa’s voice produced an immediate effect on him and the sight of that lean body lounging in a languid pose, didn’t help his situation. Silently cursing the revealing shorts he currently wore, he could only pray that Trowa wouldn’t notice. “Oh, hi, Trowa,” Quatre breezed, trying to calm his raging hormones. “It’s laundry day,” he explained, glancing down at his uncharacteristically casual attire, “so I didn’t have anything else to wear but my workout clothes.” Trowa nodded, accepting the explanation. “Everyday should be laundry day,” he mumbled as he abandoned the doorway and stalked gracefully into the room. Quatre blinked at him, uncertain whether he’d heard Trowa correctly. Convinced he was mistaken the small pilot shook his head and turned back to the vid-discs. “What are you doing?” Trowa asked, coming to stand directly behind the shorter boy. Quatre gulped at Trowa’s nearness and tried to answer in a normal tone of voice. “I was going to watch a movie so I’m checking out Duo’s collection.” “See anything good?” Trowa inquired, again taking the opportunity to appreciate the view of the blonde’s rear lifted invitingly towards him. Quatre looked over his shoulder, his breath coming more rapidly as he realized the vulnerable nature of his position. Trowa was standing so close that their bodies were nearly touching, the silent youth’s narrow hips all but pressed against his rear. Quatre closed his eyes, experiencing a sense of déjà vu. He’d imagined Trowa taking him like this so many times, it was almost as if the moment had happened before. Now fully hard, Quatre struggled to control his wayward body. “Uh, n-nothing yet,” he stammered. ‘If I just backed up a bit, I could feel him…’, but Quatre silenced the naughty voice in his mind at the same time cursing his own cowardice. In truth, he’d been in lust with the Heavyarms pilot since first seeing him on the battlefield. Lust had quickly turned into love and Quatre spent his days alternately conniving to be near the green-eyed boy and striving to conceal his feelings. Sadly, he’d witnessed nothing to indicate that Trowa could possibly return his sentiments. They were friends and Quatre was determined to maintain that friendship at all costs. If that meant hiding his love, so be it. Sighing at his pathetic situation, Quatre continued to look at the movie titles. Just then something caught his eye. “Hey, what’s this?” he asked, grabbing the title and suddenly standing up. Trowa, his mind occupied with the way the overhead lights played amongst the golden strands of Quatre’s shining hair, was caught unawares and failed to back up when the other boy stood. He found himself flush against the blonde’s back, his jeans growing impossibly tight as his body immediately reacted to the sensation of the lithe form being pressed to his own. Quatre froze, his arm against the muscular plane of Trowa’s chest, his hip against the taller boy’s thigh. Slowly, he looked up into a pair of emerald pools. His lips parted in unconscious invitation, his mind screaming at him to close the gap and claim Trowa’s sensuous mouth for his own. Trowa gazed down at the small pilot, taking in the creamy texture of his skin, the rosy hue of his slightly flushed cheeks, and the intelligent sparkle of his aquamarine eyes. He wanted nothing more than to taste those sweet lips, to bask in Quatre’s shining glory the way a lion basks in the sun. The two boys stood motionless for a moment, yearning for each other but stalled by the wrenching fear of rejection. Finally, their fear won out. Their gazes parted and Trowa stepped back, breaking their connection. Inwardly, they both sighed at the loss. Quatre looked down at the vid-disc in his hand, suddenly remembering where he was and what he’d just been doing. “W- what’s this?” he managed to get out. “I’ve never seen this one before.” Trowa took a deep breath and looked at the title. “Duo and Heero’s Greatest Hit,” he read. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Well, let’s take a look,” Quatre suggested. He put the vid- disc in the player and moved to the couch to retrieve the remote. He sat and noted with something akin to joy that Trowa had decided to join him. ‘Even a couple of hours sitting next to him watching a movie is better than nothing,’ he mused. Quatre watched in confusion as the movie began. Or, at least, it was supposed to be a movie. Rather than an opening title sequence, however, the screen showed his friends and fellow pilots, Duo and Heero, in what appeared to be a dorm room. Duo was lounging on one of the narrow beds and Heero was at his laptop. All in all, it seemed to be a home movie the pilots had taken of themselves at some point. The question was, why? The blond glanced at his companion, a silent question in his aquamarine gaze. Trowa shook his head, unable to provide an explanation. Quatre turned back to the unfolding scene, curious as to what would happen next. He realized that Duo was saying something while unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his hair. Quatre turned up the volume on the television in order to catch the braided pilot’s words. “In fact, seeing you dominate the field like that...well, you were totally hot!” Quatre gasped, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening to impossible proportions. Unless he was mistaken, and he knew he was not, Duo was lying on that bed, shirt unbuttoned and hair unbound, pleasuring himself. Quatre turned once again to Trowa. This time the brown-haired pilot’s face exhibited an expression of mild shock but he was still unable to clarify what exactly was going taking place on the screen. What was taking place became immediately apparent, however, when Heero suddenly pounced on the amethyst-eyed pilot and began to kiss him senseless. Quatre tried to pick up his fallen jaw as he fumbled with the remote, determined to stop the disc. This was obviously something that the other pilots wouldn’t want anyone else to see. Watching it was clearly an invasion of their privacy. However, the Sandrock pilot found himself unable to turn away from the sight of his two beautiful friends, who were plainly enjoying one another. Their unmitigated enthusiasm was an incredible turn on. Trowa blinked as Duo begged Heero to fuck him. Already aroused, he grew even harder at Heero’s gruff reply. “I want you to wrap those beautiful lips of yours around my big, hard cock and suck on it for all you’re worth.” Trowa surreptitiously looked over at the smaller boy, wondering if he was offended by the blatant sexuality of the two youths on the screen. Although he’d caught his partner staring at him on occasion, Trowa was unsure about Quatre proclivities. But here was an unprecedented opportunity. Trowa watched the blonde’s reaction carefully, realizing that it would give him some indication. His emerald eyes widened in shock as he saw sweet, innocent Quatre rubbing himself, attempting to relieve the pressure of his obvious erection. Turning back to the screen, Trowa contemplated his next move. Now that he knew that Quatre was into boys, the next question was, would the beautiful pilot be into him? The action on the screen grew more torrid as Duo began a sensuously slow striptease. Heero watched intently until the longhaired pilot was completely unclothed. Beckoning his lover closer, Heero made the other boy turn and began... “Allah,” Quatre whispered as Heero made love to Duo with his tongue. His arousal was becoming painful and, in his desperation to ease the tension, he forgot for a moment that he should be hiding his reaction from his companion. As the pilots on the screen had gotten more involved with each other, Quatre helplessly began to picture himself and his taciturn partner in their place. A sheen of sweat broke out on his pearlescent skin as he lost himself in his fantasy. Quatre’s obviously excitement, combined with Duo’s impassioned shouts, made Trowa abandon his caution. Reaching over, he covered Quatre’s busy hand with his own larger one. Startled eyes shot to meet his gaze but the tall youth did not desist. He moved the other boy’s hand away from his arousal and, refusing to look away, reached inside the spandex shorts and took hold the organ he wanted to claim as his own. Quatre squeaked, unable to utter any other sound as Trowa began to stroke him with a firm, knowing hand. His mind was nearly unable to grasp the incredible concept that the boy he loved more than life was actually touching him in a way that was beyond mere friendship. Sparks of pleasure surged through him as his hands dug into the sofa cushion. His lips parted as his eyes closed, his lungs laboring for air. Trowa’s emerald gaze fell upon the sweetly parted lips. It was as though they were calling to him and without a thought of resistance, he fell upon them, drinking deeply. Hand continuing its erotic work, Trowa’s tongue gently probed the gasping boy’s lips, politely requesting entrance. With a moan, Quatre gave his permission, one hand releasing its grip upon the cushion and burying itself in the tall boy’s thick hair. Two bodies sighed and two minds reeled at the realization that their hearts’ desire was close at hand. The vid-disc, the open door, even the blighted war was momentarily forgotten as the two boys came together at last, their fears eradicated as their tongues dueled. No longer satisfied with the minimal body contact, Trowa quickly stripped the smaller boy, his hand and mouth relinquishing their duties only when necessary. Quatre gasped, unbearably turned on by Trowa’s certainty and control. The tall pilot finally released his mouth and Quatre opened his eyes to find himself the subject of intense, emerald scrutiny. Insecurities coming to the fore, the blond looked away, his soul feeling as utterly vulnerable and exposed as his body. Acutely perceptive in normal situations, Trowa was completely in tune with this boy who held his heart. He took hold of the other’s delicate chin until uncertain aquamarine eyes once again met his own. Stroking a smooth, creamy cheek with a roughened thumb, Trowa smiled. “Don’t hide from me, Quatre. You must know that you’re beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever beheld. Not just your body, but your very being. Your goodness and kindness affects everyone around you and has managed to penetrate even my stubborn heart.” Quatre’s eyes widened in disbelief, his heart racing with every beautiful word. “You’ve given me something to fight for, something to believe in. That something is you, Quatre. Je t’aime, mon petit.” (1) A single, crystalline drop traced Quatre’s cheek as he absorbed Trowa’s confession, suffused with pure joy. He smiled radiantly and lifted his head to claim his love’s lips once more. Trowa allowed this for a moment before sitting up and removing his own clothing. Quatre followed every move with riveted attention as the sleek, muscular body was revealed to his adoring eyes. Finally naked, Trowa reached down and pulled Quatre’s legs upon the couch so that the blond lay stretched out and fully accessible. He lowered himself, the smaller boy’s gasp mingling with his own as heated flesh met fully for the first time. “Trowa,” Quatre breathed, eyes closing as the boy lying above him began to minutely catalogue every inch of his skin with soft lips and a wickedly talented tongue. Desperate to feel the beloved body he’d so recently discovered, Quatre ran his hands over part of his lover he could reach, drawing a series of satisfied moans from the taller pilot. After lingering pleasantly at a pair of pebbled nipples and tracing slowly past firm abs, Trowa finally reached his goal. Continuing where he’d left off, he grasped Quatre’s weeping manhood but this time adding his mouth to the mix. Quatre’s upper body lifted convulsively at the feel of soft, warm lips wrapping around his aching arousal. Moaning helplessly, he opened his eyes in time to see himself disappearing into Trowa’s mouth. A tremor ran through him and he cried out, begging for a release from the incredible pressure building within him. Unable to halt the amorous episode but unwilling to cause his beautiful lover any type of pain, Trowa’s mind worked swiftly to find a way to solve the problem presented by the lack of accessible lubricant. One solution came to him when he tasted the salty flavor seeping from Quatre’s cock. ‘That will do for later,’ he thought, ‘but I need something now to prepare him.’ Suddenly hitting upon an idea, he moved one hand, which, along with the other, had been keeping the blonde’s thrusting hips under control, up to the boy’s parted lips. Quatre immediately took the hint and drew three of Trowa’s fingers deep into his mouth, eager to return some of the pleasure he was being given. Trowa groaned at the wet heat that surrounded his fingers and he struggled to keep his attention on his own activities. Wanting to increase Quatre’s ardor to the point where the slight discomfort of penetration would go unnoticed, the Heavyarms pilot continued his skillful manipulation, keeping his lover on the edge of release without letting him reach his completion. Finally satisfied, Trowa removed his fingers from the blonde’s mouth, ignoring the whimper of protest, and sought the writing boy’s untried entrance with the moistened digits. Quatre cried out, his body tensing unconsciously, as the first slender finger entered him. Trowa paused in his ministrations to reassure his lover. “Little one, just relax. Don’t fight me.” The blond forced himself to obey and soon the slight feeling of pain was completely overwhelmed by the wonderful sensation of being probed and gently stretched. The next two fingers met with little resistance and sought a special locus that would increase the slender pilot’s ardor ten-fold. Trowa knew that he’d succeeded when Quatre’s eyes shot open and his entire body tensed. “Trowa! By Allah!” Quatre’s mind disappeared in a desire-soaked haze as his body trembled and clenched under the quiet boy’s ruthless assault. Trowa settled down into a steady rhythm of mouth and tongue, pulling Quatre to the precipice. Knowing that the smaller boy was almost there, Trowa exchanged his mouth for his free hand, continuing the steady stroking and murmuring soft words of love and encouragement. Pleasured from without and from within, the blond pilot was flung over the edge into his first release. Shouting his lover’s name, Quatre spilled his passion into the brown-haired boy’s waiting hand. Trowa captured the warm fluid and quickly applied it to his own aching member. His emerald eyes gently caressed the other boy’s flushed skin, smiling and the smaller pilot’s look of utter contentment. ‘I’m not finished with you yet, petit,’ he thought, his entire body shivering with the anticipation of what was to come. The pleasant expectation of intercourse was as new to him as it was to the innocent blond. Imposed upon unwillingly by many of the mercenaries he’d been raised by, sex had never been an appealing prospect. That is, until he’d met Quatre. The Sandrock pilot’s bravery and brilliant idealism, as much as his astonishing beauty, had instantly attracted the quiet, slender youth. Plagued by his carnal thoughts as well as by his burgeoning love for the other boy, Trowa had been loath to impose what he surmised to be unwanted attentions on his smaller partner. Now, however, freed from doubt, Trowa rubbed a calming hand across Quatre’s heaving chest, more than ready to consummate their fledgling union. Quatre sighed, the feel of the taller boy’s hand bringing an instant renewal of desire within him. He felt his manhood stir, knowing instinctively that his lover had more in store him. He raised a loving, aquamarine gaze to the Heavyarms pilot, trembling at the searing passion he found within the other’s emerald regard. After a wordless moment, Trowa asked softly, “Are you ready, my love?” Chest tightening at the endearment, Quatre nodded. He allowed Trowa to arrange his legs so that the draped over the taller boy’s shoulders. The flaxen Arabian’s hands clenched, gripping the couch even as he forced his body to relax as the other boy positioned his arousal at his virgin entrance. Keeping Quatre’s gaze imprisoned with his own, Trowa slowly, ever so slowly, pushed into the smaller boy’s hot, tight, little body. Quatre struggled to hold Trowa’s gaze as he felt his partner’s prodigious arousal enter him gradually. The invasion continued inexorably until both air and rational thought became elusive quantities. If the feel of Trowa’s mouth around him had been incredible, the sensation of being filled by his lover was infinitely more fantastic. Unable to remain silent, Quatre cried out his joy as he was penetrated a final, delicious inch. Trowa paused for a moment, clambering to retain his control in the face of the exquisite marvel of being completely buried within his beloved at last. The smaller boy’s sheath gripped and caressed him like a long lost friend. The word ‘home’ flitted through his mind, filling the brown-haired youth with a sense of rightness. “Please, Trowa,” Quatre panted, craving release from the unbearable tension pervading him. The blond wriggled and tried to press even closer to the other boy, begging for relief from the taller pilot’s quiescent torture. Praying for restraint in the face of temptation, Trowa began to stir within his writhing lover with careful, shallow movements. Unsatisfied with his lover’s caution, Quatre increased his squirming and his vocal pleas. He began to clench his internal muscles around the invading member, unconsciously simulating the motion of the release for which he strove. Feeling the arrhythmic tightening around his already aching arousal, Trowa abandoned his much vaunted control. He began to move his hips with greater speed, each penetration reaching greater depths until he again struck the blonde’s center of pleasure. “Ahhh,” Quatre screamed, heedless of the fact that he was naked and being screwed by his partner in the very public rec room of his mansion. Reduced to a mindless bundle of need, he met Trowa’s every thrust, fervently wishing that this would never end. As Trowa felt himself approaching his climax, he wrapped a long-fingered hand around the other boy’s neglected arousal, determined to bring Quatre with him as he swum in the ocean of ecstasy. Filled and pumped with the same, devastating rhythm, Quatre dove eagerly, shouting his love as he came for the second time. Propelled by the inner workings of the smaller pilot’s clenching body, Trowa soon followed with a wordless cry of his own. As his lover collapsed on top of him, Quatre remembered the fervent words he’d uttered at the moment of his completion. Fearing that he’d been unheard, the blond clasped the other boy to him with deceptively slender arms and repeated his assertion. “I love you, Trowa. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you and I will love you until the day I die.” (2) Trowa smiled as he wearily reiterated his own feeling. “And I love you, petit. Toujours.” Wrapped around each other body and soul, the two pilot fell into a peaceful slumber.
Quatre and Trowa lay on the sofa, dead to the world, in obvious, post-coital bliss. Duo blinked and turned towards his companion. “Well, would you look at that,” he murmured, not wanting to disturb the sleeping pair. “I can’t believe it. They *finally* got together.” “Hn,” Heero replied, agreeing with Duo’s disbelief. The Sandrock and Heavyarms pilots had been a source of endless amusement as they’d clumsily failed to hide their mutual affection from anyone but each other. But now, something had apparently occurred to finally bring them together. Heero’s lips quirked slightly as he looked at his lover, glad that his friends had discovered the happiness he himself had found. Duo looked over and grinned at the Wing pilot’s smile before moving silently to the oblivious lovers. Though appreciative of the unclothed view, Duo sought to preserve his friends’ dignity by covering them with a blanket resting on the back of the couch. His grin softened into a sweet smile at the sight the cute couple made. The braided boy looked over at the television, noticing that a vid-disc had recently been viewed. Curious as to what the pair had been watching, Duo walked to the player and ejected the vid- disc. A wicked grin slowly stretched across his face as he read the title of the movie. Turning, he held the vid-disc so Heero could read the label. ‘Duo and Heero’s Greatest Hit,’ the Japanese pilot mouthed, resisting the urge to laugh aloud. Instead, he returned his lover’s manic grin. Duo placed the disc in its case and returned to Heero’s side, the vid-disc still in hand. Together, the two brunette pilots vacated the room. “Well, I’m glad to see that this little movie of ours is useful for more than parting hentai OZ officers from their money,” Duo quipped once in the hallway. Rather than respond, Heero swiped the vid-disc from the braided boy’s hand. Ignoring the other’s questioning look, Heero headed down the hall to their shared bedroom. The brown-haired pilot paused at the bedroom door and shot his lover a heated, cobalt glance before entering the room. Blinking for a moment at the other boy’s uncharacteristic flirtatiousness, Duo swiftly regained his composure and raced down the hall. Upon reaching the bedroom, he looked in to see Heero efficiently removing his tank top, having already put the vid-disc in the room’s player. ‘Lights, camera, action!’ Duo thought with a grin, noticing that he was already hard with anticipation. “An actor’s work is never done,” he quipped gleefully, closing the door firmly behind him. ~Owari (1) “I love you, my little one.” Is Trowa French or Latin? I’m not sure, but since I know more French than Spanish, there ya go! (2) Three cheers for cheesy melodrama!! ^_^ © October 2001
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