"Dance All Night"

Written By: Honor

Disclaimer: Um…they aren’t mine, but if they’re yours, I’m perfectly willing to share. *beam*

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: AU, language, lemon, yaoiness, hints of violence, a hentai-minded Quatre

Spoilers: Ha! You wish.

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2

Summary: Okay, this is actually based on experience. The club that the guys go to is really The Century Club, it’s really in LA, there really is a Chapman University in LA, and everything else I mention. The only thing not real about this is the guys themselves. Velvet and I talked about doing a fic based on our experience there, then she mentioned she was actually writing hers which got me thinking, so…it’s all her fault!

*emphasized* //phone//

"Dance All Night"

Part Three: I’m Not Sharing


The trouble with real life is that there's no danger music.
--Jim Carrey from "The Cable Guy"

I looked around the living room again to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. Normally I’m not this fussy about keeping things clean, but Quatre was due in about five minutes and I wanted to make a good impression.

I only had Fruits Basket in avi format, so we had to watch it on the laptop. This of course required that I snitched my brother’s love sack so that I could put the laptop on the coffee table in our very small living room and the love sack in front of it—nice and cozy. It would mean that he would practically be in my lap too.

That wasn’t the reason for the whole arrangement, either.

Nope. Just a nice side benefit.

It was such a relief to finally have a boyfriend like Quatre. There was nothing artificial about him. He was just genuinely good—I didn’t think they made people like him anymore. And I still can’t believe that he had been tangled up with someone like Phil. Just two minutes on the phone with that guy had been enough to tell me that he was a world class jerk. Duo had called me about fifteen minutes ago and told me flat out that it would be a wise move on my part if I threatened Phil now to stay away from Quatre. Preventive maintenance, he called it. On that, I was beginning to agree with him. I’d do it after Quatre left.

*knock* *knock*

And that would be my little bit of sunshine, right on cue. Scooting around the couch, I went straight to the door and flung it open.

Eye-candy. Pure eye-candy. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He grinned at me and rose up far enough to plant a kiss on my mouth. I wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him there long enough to return that little welcome.

“Come on in. Do you want snacks now or later?”

“Mmm…later.” His eyes were darting all over the apartment, taking in everything.

“We’ve got the place mostly to ourselves,” I offered as I led him to the love sack. “Everyone’s gone for most of the day.”

The grin he gave me said quite plainly the he was delighted by the news.

Dammit, Barton, get your thoughts above your belt! You cannot screw up what you have with this guy just because Trowa Jr. hasn’t seen any action in a while! “Shall we get started?”

To my delight, I quickly discovered that Quatre is a cuddle bunny. He followed me down into the love sack and wiggled around until he was half on top of me and wrapped up in my arms. Heh…I can get used to this. *No* problem.

We laughed our way through the first three episodes. At certain parts I had to pause it until Quatre could get his laughter back under control. His sense of humor was a great deal like mine—good thing to know. When the third one ended, I let the credits run. “I’m thinking snacks right about now.”

Quatre shook his head, burrowing in further. “Oh no. You’re not moving. I’m nice and comfortable and I plan on staying that way.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Who said I was moving?” Shifting one arm so that I could tilt my body over his and pin him in place, I flicked my tongue over his bottom lip. “I want to snack on you.”

His eyes flashed wide in surprise, then crinkled up in the corners as he smiled and reached for me. “Hey, I want to munch a little too.”

“Feel free,” I breathed right before I kissed him. I absolutely love kissing Quatre. It’s like eating cotton candy on the fourth of July—his taste just melts in your mouth and leaves you craving for more. I’ve never been with anyone that responds like he does. It’s incredible—whatever he wants, whatever he feels, it’s right at my fingertips, under my mouth, under *me*.

Hungry to taste the rest of him, to see if all of him was like that, I trailed my mouth down his jaw and to his throat. He arched into me, head thrown back and a little sigh of pleasure slipping out of his mouth.

Oh *God* that’s sexy!

He just became instant putty in my hands. I felt like the king of the world or something—I’ve never been so turned on just by touching someone like this. My hands went to his waist and snuck under his shirt without conscious direction. He was smooth, but taut from dancing so much. He shivered like a live wire under my fingertips and his hands gripped the back of my head, hips shifting restlessly against mine. I pushed his shirt up and tilted so that I could start nibbling on his chest. He really liked that—in fact, he was damn near purring.

One of his hands went down my back and started tracing muscle, then sneaking up under my shirt. I wanted him—naked, hot, under me and begging for it! And I wanted it *now*. I dropped a hand to his waist and started tugging the button free.

He flinched.

It wasn’t anything overt. Just his stomach flinching away from where my hands had brushed, but it gave me a clue that I’d gone too far, too fast. I stopped immediately and turned my face up to look at him.

He was bright red, eyes fixed on the far wall. “Sorry—”

“Hey,” I whispered softly, nuzzling against his jaw. “You’ve known me two days, if that. Boyfriend or not, we don’t know each other that well. Slow’s okay—slow is better, really. I don’t want to build anything with you on a shaky foundation.”

He lost most of the red, and turned his eyes shyly to mine. Damn, I should have known better. He told me he didn’t have any real experience in this. I was lucky to go as far as I did, all things considered. I could have really screwed things up. I leaned in and kissed him again, softly. He returned that eagerly, so I kept him distracted while I tugged his shirt back down.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he breathed back against my mouth.

“Don’t you ever let me do something you’re not comfortable with,” I growled at him.

That earned a laugh, and he kissed me this time.

The door opened.

What the HELL! Grumbling under my breath I popped up far enough to see over the couch.

Fuck. It would just have to be my brother. “You bastard, what are you doing here?”

Triton arched an eyebrow at me. We could be mirror images of each other, except he wore his hair differently. Barely a year separated us, something that he gloated about since he was older. Brothers are such pains. “I got ditched, so I decided to come back here and watch some anime.”

By this point, of course, he was close enough to see Quatre.

My little blond had twisted around so he could see who I was talking to. I was frankly amazed that he could *bend* that way. Didn’t that hurt? I mean, I was flexible, but not *that* flexible!

Triton let out a low whistle, a smile spreading over his face that I didn’t care for at all. “Hey Trowa, is this official?”

“Yes,” I snapped. “It’s very official.”

Triton let out a woe begone sigh, staring at Quatre wistfully. “Rats. I was going to take him if you hadn’t.”

“You lay one finger on him and Mom and Dad are going to be paying for a funeral.”

Quatre’s eyes were darting back and forth between us, and I could see him starting to make the connection. “Is he your older brother?”

“Triton Barton, at your service,” my idiot brother announced with a smooth bow. He was the theater minor.

I stood up, taking Quatre with me. I would not put it past my brother to roll over the couch and cuddle in with Quatre on the love sack. He’s done it before. I gave him a warning glare and growled threateningly, “Triton—”

Quatre put an arm around my waist and squeezed. When I looked down at him, I could see that his eyes were sparkling madly. “I’m Quatre Winner.”

“Winner?” Triton murmured with lust written all over his face. “Boy, you sure are. Where did you meet my brother?”

“Century Club,” Quatre replied promptly.

“Damn. I knew I should have gone.”

I upped my glare and mouthed ‘mine’.

Quatre just laughed. “It wouldn’t have made any difference, Triton.”

I felt ridiculously flattered by that statement. Simmering down some, I relaxed the more than possessive hold I had on Quatre and shooed my brother away. “We are watching anime, and no, you can’t join us. Go elsewhere, brother.”

“But I like the company here!” he protested sunnily.

That’s it, he’s dead. I’ll worry about hiding his body later.

Quatre curled himself around me and lifted up to his toes to whisper against my ear, “There isn’t supposed to be anyone home at my apartment right now.”

It took exactly two milliseconds to make a decision. I snatched up my keys and towed him out the door. “How far away?”

“Five minute walk,” Quatre answered. His eyes were still dancing. If he didn’t stop that, I was going to pin him against the wall and give him the best damn blow job of his life.

“Let’s go.”

I’d catch him up on Fruits Basket later.

+

(Quatre’s POV)

I checked the clock again, then gave myself a mental pat on the back. Somehow, I had managed to get the Shepherd’s Pie ready and in the oven in an hour. It usually takes me an hour and a half.

Trowa was due in about five minutes. I still felt bad about how I reacted Saturday. I felt like beating my head against a wall just thinking about it. I *wanted* Trowa, I mean my libido started salivating just thinking about him, and yet when he started what promised to be a fantastic make-out session, I froze. Fortunately for me, he understood why—I didn’t even have to explain. We had spent most of Saturday night and Sunday morning snuggling and speaking in Tongues. Part of it was I couldn’t keep my hands off of him, but I think another part of it was we were both trying to get me used to the idea of being in physical contact with him.

I’d asked him over today for dinner for a very specific reason. Everyone was supposed to be out tonight until late. I’d hoped that we might get past my shyness and fog up the apartment windows a little.

Whoops, time to go meet my boyfriend. New Hall had locked gates at all the entrances, so I’d have to let him in. Grabbing my keycard so I could get back in, I went out the door.

And walked straight into an ambush.

Oh for crying out loud in the dark! Trowa had told me he’d threatened Phil to leave me alone. Apparently that hadn’t sunk into Phil’s brain. Did he have a brain? Survival instinct, even? My ambusher was leaning against the wall, scowling darkly and wearing a neon green shirt that clashed horribly with his coloring. Comparing him against Trowa was like comparing a rusted Pinto against a Mustang Cobra.

Remind me. What did I see in Phil again?

Hoping that if I just ignored him, he’d go away, I turned my back to him and headed for the main door.

“Quatre!”

Damn. Wouldn’t work. I was afraid of that. Sighing, I looked at him. “Phil, I have to go down and let someone in. Can I talk to you later?”

“No. I know it’s your boyfriend you want to get,” he snapped. There was a vulgar twist to how he said ‘boyfriend’ that set my teeth on edge. “You two are practically living with each other. You’re only with him because you want to fuck him!”

Well, actually, I’m hoping that he’ll fuck *me*… I don’t have time for this, or any interest in it either. I turned away and started for the door again. Phil grabbed my arm as I turned, slamming me into the wall. Dammit! I hadn’t thought him that strong, but he was bigger than I was, and apparently he was using all of that weight to his advantage. “Phil, stop it!”

Breathing hard, he grinned this horrible, gruesome smile that kicked my flight or fight instincts into overdrive. Instinctively I started to rip free of his hold, but he slammed me back into the wall. Curse it, I didn’t really want to hurt him. I’d messed up with Phil, it was understandable if he was a little upset with me.

But that didn’t mean I was going to let him throw me around like a ragdoll either!

“Let go!” I snarled.

With no finesse he pinned me in place and crashed his mouth into mine. UGH! Gross! I twisted my head away, pushing him off and staggering free. It was an awkward move on my part, and I had to catch the wall to keep upright.

He grabbed me from behind, breath hot and sour on my neck. “I’m not letting you go to him!”

“I’m not yours, Phil,” I ground out between clenched teeth. I had no leverage, no way to tear free of his hold. I wasn’t going to give up, though. I’d start screaming for help in about three seconds if he didn’t let go.

“You think your boyfriend is anything more than hot air?”

“He’s going to take you apart for even touching me,” I promised flatly. “But that’s only *after* I get through with you!”

He shifted, wanting to lean over me and kiss me again.

Vital mistake.

I lifted a foot, catching the back of his knee and leaning all of my weight into him. When he started falling, I jerked him viciously to the floor and body slammed him into the carpet. Gasping in pain, he unconsciously let go.

Staggering free, I got up to my feet. He was between me and the exit now—damn, bad move. I couldn’t just leap over him, though. He was coming to his senses, and would catch me. Okay, time to call for help.

There was a light in his eyes that scared me. He wasn’t entirely sane, anymore. “You’re mine, Quatre. MINE!”

The Resident Advisor, Sally, was on my floor. Her door was about five feet behind me. Would I be able to get to it before Phil tackled me again?

Was she even *home*?

“Quatre!”

Trowa! YES! How in hell did he get in?! Oh wait, Duo’s right behind him. Oh good, now I really didn’t have to worry about handling Phil. Judging by the way Trowa’s face was darkening as he took in the scene, the police will never Phil’s body.

Phil was looking a little uncertain now. I edged past him, reaching out for Trowa and burying into him thankfully. He cradled me protectively against him, and I just wanted to stay there for the rest of my life.

“What did he do?”

Shit. I’d never heard that tone from Trowa before. It was calm, and about as deadly as a newly sharpened sword. I peeked up at him, feeling a sort of awe at the violence brewing in his eyes.

Oh hell, he’s really going to murder Phil.

“What is going on out here?” A female voice demanded.

I turned sharply to see Sally standing in her doorway. Oh…apparently she was home. “Sally—I need to press charges of assault against Phil.”

Her eyes flew wide. Then they narrowed. “Really. What did he do?”

Here goes nothing… “Pinned me against the wall and kissed me.” I couldn’t look at Phil.

Sally came forward and very cautiously reached for my face. I think even she was a little afraid of Trowa right at that moment. Phil was shaking in his god-awful tennis shoes just from the promise of death in those green eyes. She saw the growing bruises on my mouth, along my jaw where he had grabbed my face to keep me still, the marks along my arms.

“What did he almost do?” she asked quietly.

“Rape.”

Trowa put a kiss against my forehead, then slipped free and approached Phil. His prey could only shake, eyes wide as he watched doom approach. When Trowa was within arm’s distance, his hand shot out and grabbed Phil by the throat, lifting him a foot of the ground and pinning him against the wall. “You’ve got two choices.” The words rumbled through the empty hallway like thunder. “Either I can tear it off, or I can pitch you out the window and let your head smash against the concrete. Which would you rather be? Dead or dickless?”

“Whoa, boyfriend!” Sally rushed forward, wisely not touching Trowa just then. “Quatre said he’s going to press charges. I’ll make sure that a restraining order is put on him. He won’t come near Quatre again.”

That wouldn’t settle down Trowa. I came forward and gently coaxed him to put Phil down, then pulled him away. “Let her handle it,” I asked softly. “I don’t want you in some cell where I can’t reach you.”

He gathered me up against him again, the hold a very possessive one. After a long moment he let out a breath, relaxing with it. “Alright.” He pinned Phil with a glare. “You get one more chance at life, asshole. You come near him again and they’ll never find your body.”

Sally grabbed Phil by his ear and dragged him to her apartment. I kind of felt sorry for him—even Duo thought twice before he crossed Sally.

“Let’s get you inside,” Duo said softly.

The adrenaline was fading, leaving me with visions of what could have happened if Duo hadn’t unexpectedly shown up and let Trowa in. Trowa guided me in with an arm around my shoulders, and I followed it blindly. I didn’t really register crossing the apartment, but I must have because the next thing I knew I was curled up on Trowa’s lap and he was stroking my hair and back in comforting circles.

“Did he hurt you?”

Dumbly I shook my head and pressed into him. “Just shook up.” And revolted to even be in my own skin. I felt defiled, and ready to scrub a layer or ten of skin off to get every trace of Phil off of me. How had I misjudged him so badly?

Trowa started pressing soft kisses against my temple and hair. I reached up with both hands and guided his head down to mine, lips working over his in desperation. I could still taste Phil, and I hated it. I didn’t want it.

Trowa stroked his tongue into my mouth, exploring every corner and curve of it. Mmmm…I tilted my head more, flicking out to meet his tongue in that exploration and letting his taste settle on my tongue. He’s so damn fine…

We broke away with a soft smack of lips and I smiled up at him, eyes a little heavy. “Just what the doctor ordered,” I murmured. The urge to swallow a gallon of Listerine had faded away.

Duo came into sight over his shoulder and gave me a long look. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I confirmed with a firm nod.

“Good. I’ll let Trowa handle it from here.”

I knew that he had a date with Heero, so I shooed him on. “Go, I know you’re late.”

“Don’t worry about your dinner, man!” Duo called as he went out the door. “I turned if off.”

I winced. “Actually, I had clean forgotten about it.”

“I’m not sure about you, but I don’t think I’m calm enough to eat just now.”

Blowing out a breath I managed a smile for him. “No, I’m not really in the mood either. Sorry.”

“If you’re apologizing for dinner, I’m going to smack you,” Trowa rumbled. There was a light of humor in his eyes, though.

“Dinner,” I admitted, feeling the fear of facing Phil fade like a bad memory. “And Phil.”

“Phil wasn’t your fault, Quatre.”

“Not entirely,” I agreed in a very troubled voice. “But I made a lot of mistakes with him. I gave him all the wrong signals. I can understand why he was mad at me.”

“That doesn’t excuse his behavior.” Trowa’s voice was hard.

“No. It doesn’t.” Reaching up, I twined both arms around his neck and reached up to kiss him anywhere that I could reach. “Touch me,” I pleaded. “Erase his touch completely.”

He lowered me gently to the couch, returning the kisses, stroking my hair back with light touches. “You’re mine, Quatre Raberba Winner. Only mine. Always mine.”

I smiled up at him, tilting my head back so that he could have easier access to my neck. “Always.”

He took the silent invitation, nibbling along the column of my neck. Soft pleasure stole over my senses as he lightly ran his teeth and lips over my skin. Unconsciously I arched my hips up against his, trying to soothe the ache building in my groin.

The buttons of my shirt slipped free under his fingers, falling away to either side as he traveled over my chest. I knew he was trying to be gentle with me, but I didn’t want gentle. I wanted him to mark me—to make such a definite impression that I could never forget it. I grabbed his shirt and tugged it viciously over his head.

He started as I pulled him roughly against me. “Quatre—mmph.”

Hands were smoothing, rubbing, exploring every texture and angle. Our mouths slid over each other’s, biting, taking, separating only to connect again a moment later with more hunger. Trowa’s hands over chest, hips, under my ass, were leaving sensory imprints so pleasurable it was almost painful. I arched like a bow under Trowa’s mouth as it bit and nibbled none-too gently around a nipple.

*Yes*…like that…just like that…

I didn’t wait for him to strip the rest of my clothes away. I did it for him, this time. His eyes went to my groin as I pulled pants and boxers down, and there was bright greed shining in his eyes. Okay, just being stared at is a little embarrass—shit! Nnh.

Trowa Barton has the most beautiful, talented mouth that was ever imagined. Breathing was impossible, thinking was impossible, all I could do was arch into him and beg for more. I felt like a live wire, the pleasure so intense I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been visible. “Tr-Trowa!”

He hummed a little, the rough urgency of his mouth not slowing. He was making wet, sucking noises as he worked around my cock. I felt consumed under his attention, head thrashing helplessly. Desperate for an anchor, I grabbed his hair and held on for dear life.

A hot, molten tightening settled into the pit of my stomach. It felt good, too good, it was starting to hurt. It was unbearably hot and I couldn’t seem to grasp enough air in my lungs. “I-I can’t take it!” Ripping a hand free, I pounded against the back of the couch in frustration. It felt too good, I couldn’t handle the building pressure.

He grasped my fist, holding it still as he ran the rough side of his tongue straight up the main nerve.

Choking on a cry I slammed up into his mouth and exploded.

A few eons later, the world stopped spinning, I could breathe again, and it was suddenly lighter in my apartment. Blinking, I realized that Trowa had moved me into my room. I was lying on my bed, and Trowa was under the blanket with me, propped up on one elbow and just watching me with a little smile on his face. I shifted closer to him—yup, I was right, he lost the pants somewhere too.

Darn the luck.

Grinning, I caught him by the nape of the neck and brought him closer so I could kiss him. Something hard and hot pressed against my thigh, and I pressed back. Trowa groaned throatily. “Trowa?”

“What?”

“I have lube stashed under the mattress.”

He peered at me suspiciously. “You’ve been planning this, haven’t you?”

I bent to lazily lick at a nipple. He tastes so damn fine. “Mm-hm.”

He arched into the touch, and I could hear his hand fumbling on the edge of the bed, no doubt looking for that elusive tube of lubrication. “I love how your mind works.”

He didn’t manage to say anything truly articulate after that.

~*~*~*~

Chapter 4

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