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"Secrets"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: All of those who agree that the boys
should belong to me say “Aye!” Pairings: 3x4 Spoilers: Nope. Warnings: Lemon, yaoiness, bit of language, AU,
I wrote it (duh). Rating: NC-17 Betas: Lucy and Velvet Archived: Gundam Wing Diaries Author’s Notes: Driving an hour to and from work is dangerous. It gives the plot bunnies time to play. For people who love a build-up of a 3x4…here you go! Oh, and just so you know, I’m putting a whole new spin on empathy, telepathy and whatnot. *grin* That’s your only hint. /other people’s thoughts/ //Trowa’s or Quatre’s thoughts// <phone> <<mental conversations>>
"Secrets " Chapter Nine: Ramifications, III
“Ow!” Trowa quickly stepped back out of range, glaring at his sister. Ever since they were young she had developed the ability to *not* think about what she was doing, just react. It made predicting her movements…challenging. “What was that for?” “ ‘Quatre is in trouble, I’m going to LA. Don’t worry, I’ll call later with the details’?” she demanded incredulously. “You write only that and you expect me to be content?! And not worry?! IDIOT!” “Told you,” Quatre told Trowa from the hallway. He walked in and exchanged a quick hug with Cathy. “Hi.” She studied him carefully. He was a little thinner, pale, and had bruises under his eyes. “You look like five miles of bad road,” Cathy told him bluntly. “What exactly is going on?” Quatre sighed. “You want the long version or the short one?” “For now? Short. If that doesn’t cut it, I’ll go back to option one.” She turned to look—really look—at Trowa and the frown deepened. “You don’t look much better. Your sexy-voiced friend wasn’t able to tell me much.” “I didn’t know much at the time,” Wufei declared irritably from the dining room. He gave a pointed look at Quatre. “I’ll let you explain it to her.” With that said, he made a dignified exit back to kitchen. “He even looks sexy,” Cathy noted to herself. Pointing a finger to the two in front of her, she ordered “Sit.” They obediently sat, although Trowa was looking longingly at the door. Cathy saw it and sat right next to the only exit. “Well?” Quatre rubbed his forehead. “Short version…okay. Trowa’s a telepath, I’m an empath, and about four months ago we altered our personal shields to include each other and instead made each other our shields. When we were separated, we lost the ability to shield and fell apart.” Cathy’s mouth was hanging down somewhere in the vicinity of the core of the earth. After she had dug it up and fit it back into its sockets, she managed to croak “I take it back. Gimme the long version.” [Fifteen minutes later] “I don’t believe this,” Cathy muttered. “Trowa, why didn’t you ever say anything?!” “There wasn’t anything you could do,” he pointed out reasonably. “Except send me to specialists, who rarely know what they’re doing anyway. I had no desire to be a lab rat. I handled it, so it’s not a problem.” “That is not the point little brother! You should have told us!” Trowa’s face darkened. “Our parents were going to send me to a shrink just because I didn’t act ‘normal’. I know precisely what they are like, Cathy. You can’t tell me that they wouldn’t have sent me to a slew of doctors as soon as they found out. I know better.” She bit back the rest of her rant, grudgingly conceding that he had a point. “Fine. I won’t argue that. It’s pointless anyway. So what now?” “We fight my father off,” Quatre informed her wearily. “And get our heads straightened out again. Our shields still aren’t working properly unless we’re in very close range.” Trowa was studying him with blatant worry in his eyes. “You need to go to bed.” “I’m fine,” Quatre declared with a sweep of his hand. <<You’re exhausted, love. Don’t lie to me.>> <<Trowa, the only way I’ll be able to sleep with this many people in the house is if you sleep with me. And that will be very boring for you. I can last until tonight.>> Cathy watched as their eyes went to each other’s…and then went a little unfocused. And as odd as it sounded, she could almost believe that they were having a conversation that she couldn’t hear. “Are…you guys talking?” Trowa turned back to her. “Yes.” “Oh. Isn’t that hard?” “No.” “It’s supposed to be,” Wufei murmured from behind her. Catherine jumped—she hadn’t even heard him move. “But for them, it isn’t. I’d really like a chance to ask a billion questions to figure out why, but for now… Quatre, go back to bed. You need more rest.” “I’m fine,” the blond insisted irritably. Trowa, fed up with his stubbornness, took the more direct route and simply picked Quatre up in his arms. “Trowa!” <<I’ll nap with you.>> <<Trowa! Stop it!>> Trowa looked at him directly, resolve firm. <<Even if you don’t sleep, you’re going to rest. You’re on the verge of collapsing. Don’t you think I can sense that?>> Quatre’s eyes lowered, jaw clenched. <<Quatre. I almost lost you.>> All of Quatre’s fight went out of him in a rush. He could feel Trowa’s worry like a weighted blanket over him, and heard in that what Trowa hadn’t said. <<Alright.>> He lifted a hand to caress a lean cheek, smiling slightly. <<I’ll be good.>> <<Thank you.>> Trowa nodded to his sister and Wufei. “We’ll be taking a nap. Wake us if something comes up.” They nodded in perfect understanding as the couple moved off to the guest bedroom they were staying in. Cathy bit her lip in contemplation as the door closed behind them. “How bad was it?” “It nearly killed Quatre,” Wufei answered quietly. “Sally told me that another two or three days of that stress, and his body would have failed.” “My god,” she whispered hoarsely. “And Trowa? I haven’t seen him much this week.” “He was still functioning, but I don’t think he would have lasted much longer without Quatre. Only the absence of people around him allowed him to last as long as he did.” Wufei blew out an irritated breath. “Woman, where the hell are your parents?” “Cattle drive. I don’t expect them to be near a phone until tomorrow night. And forgive me for asking, since apparently you’ve been taking good care of my little brother, but why are you involved in this?” “I’m a doctor in psychology and parapsychology,” Wufei responded crisply. “And I have enough money to fight off Quatre’s father, if it comes to that.” Cathy’s mouth was hanging open. “If you’re more than twenty-three, I’ll eat my shoes.” Wufei frowned at her. “I’m not quite twenty-three.” “And you’re a doctor in two fields? What are you, a child prodigy?” His frown melted into a glare. “That doesn’t concern you. There is a back bedroom open for your use. Rashid and Iria are staying here as well, but I’m not sure which rooms they chose. Settle yourself in—I have phone calls to make.” Cathy glared at his retreating back. “Touchy, much? Geez.” + Trowa settled in beside Quatre, relaxing only when he felt his lover settle into the mattress with a sigh. They lay in silence for several moments before Quatre shifted to face Trowa. <<Remember how we used physical contact to boost our shields?>> Trowa cocked a brow. <<Yes.>> Quatre’s slow smile went lecherous. That smile went straight to Trowa’s groin. <<You should be resting,>> Trowa protested weakly. <<I’ll rest better if my shields are working properly,>> Quatre reasoned sweetly even as one hand snuck under Trowa’s shirt and traced the outline of his hip. There was no way he’d be able to just lay there with the little blond in such an amorous mood. Quatre wouldn’t let him. Shucks. Darn. Oh well. He lowered his head and caught his lover’s mouth, thrusting his tongue inside hungrily. Quatre opened to allow the invasion and kissed him back with demand, rubbing his hips in invitation. <<Tell me there’s something in your luggage that we can use for lube,>> Trowa demanded. Dammit, Quatre knew exactly which buttons to push. The devilish little blond knew that he liked having his back kneaded like that. <<Lube, actually.>> Trowa paused, pulling back to stare at his lover suspiciously. <<Really?>> “Mmm-hmm.” Trowa had to fight with the blanket to let him out, but he won out over its insidious grasp and started poking through Quatre’s suitcase. <<Where?>> <<Under all the shirts, I think.>> It wasn’t just lube under the shirts. There was another book about gay sex—just the title and cover almost gave Trowa a nosebleed—a cock ring, and something that looked suspiciously like a pair of handcuffs. Oh, and a new video camera…but surely that wasn’t part of the ‘sex toy’ package… <<Quatre.>> <<Yes?>> <<Why do you have sex toys and a large tube of cherry lube?>> Quatre almost snickered, but suppressed the urge. <<Are you jealous?>> <<You bought sex toys while you were *away* from your lover,>> Trowa continued suspiciously. <<I bought them with you in mind,>> Quatre assured him. Trowa was fairly vibrating with jealousy. Cute! The statement made Trowa rethink his position. Actually, Quatre had promised to buy some sex toys for makeup sex, hadn’t he? Oops. <<Hn.>> Quatre couldn’t help it. He just started laughing, although he tried to keep it quiet. <<Get back here, you. I think you owe me lots of kinky sex for doubting my faithfulness.>> Trowa rather sheepishly climbed back into the bed, lube in hand. Quatre pulled him by the wrist back over him, reaching up to kiss him. Trowa eagerly returned it, maneuvering until he had both knees on either side of the blond’s hips. They tugged at each other’s shirts until they were off and tossed carelessly onto the floor. Quatre’s hands immediately fell to the rest of Trowa’s clothes once he had the shirt off. His persistence lasted until Trowa sprang free of his boxers. Greedily he captured it with both hands, rubbing possessively. Trowa shuddered, biting his lip. The friction was sending shards of heat stabbing straight into his groin. With shaking hands he tore Quatre’s pants down to his thighs and grasped him tightly, pumping in sync with his lover. The Arabian groaned low in his throat, eyes sliding shut in pleasure. That felt…nnnh….so fucking *marvelous*… “Need you,” Trowa gasped. He pulled away from Quatre to wrestle the pants completely out of the way. “Now,” Quatre agreed roughly. As Trowa flung the pants off the bed, he grabbed the lube and squirted some onto his fingers. Too impatient to wait, he reached up behind his balls and inserted a finger into his entrance. “Quatre—” Trowa choked. He didn’t understand why the sight of his lover preparing himself like that should turn him on so badly, but it did. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Just from the flexing of Quatre’s wrist he could tell when another finger was added, or when he changed angle to search for his prostrate. Quatre looked up, panting for air. He saw Trowa’s fixed stare and inserted another finger. “Yes?” Trowa fumbled lube onto his fingers without looking, crossing the distance between them on his knees. “Don’t stop.” Quatre kept the rhythm of his fingers going, watching as Trowa’s hand settled over his. What was his lover doing— “Ahnnn!” His knees nearly gave way as a slim digit thrust up with his own fingers. He threw an arm around Trowa’s shoulders for balance. Why, why did this feel so incredible? Fire sizzled along his nerves, sparking whenever his and Trowa’s fingers thrust up inside. That fire was probably why it felt like the Sahara during noon in here… Trowa put his other arm around the blond’s waist to keep him upright, adding his middle finger carefully. Quatre had four fingers inside of him now, and he didn’t want to push him too fast and hurt him. Abruptly it was too much. Growling, Quatre ripped his fingers free, taking Trowa’s in a firm grip to take them as well. He pushed Trowa roughly onto his back and scrambled over him. Without any gentleness, he grasped Trowa’s cock to hold it steady as he thrust himself onto it. Trowa nearly arched off the bed in a silent scream of pleasure. “Q-Quatre—!” The little blond was nearly insane with need. Giving no heed to Trowa, he rose back up and thrust back down hard. A pair of hands latched onto his hips, guiding his rhythm and helping to balance him, but he didn’t stop or slow down. The bed moaned with their movements, Trowa’s hips snapping up to meet Quatre’s downward thrust. After a short eternity of this, Quatre’s knees were aching at the unusual exertion as were his thighs. He didn’t care. The slap of flesh on flesh, Trowa’s rough breathing and inarticulate whispers of pleasure, the smell of sex and heat and his lover’s skin—it was a sensory overload that invaded him and drove him for more. Trowa was hot inside of him, pulsing and vibrating with ecstasy. It was sweaty, and crude—and he loved it. Trowa loved it, too. He pistoned up hard into Quatre’s heated and tight entrance, barely keeping his eyes open enough to watch his lover. He pried one hand loose long enough to transfer it over to Quatre’s throbbing erection. The blond shuddered and gasped as he was roughly stroked in time with their thrusts. Trowa shifted the other hand to the blond’s abdomen, shifting him back until the angle was right—then slammed into his sweet spot. Quatre screamed hoarsely, climax ripping out to splatter over Trowa’s stomach and chest. He fell down heavily on top of his prone lover, sending the brunette deeper than he’d ever been before. Hissing, Trowa burst up inside of him, eyes rolling back in his head. When the world decided to behave and stop spinning like a merry-go-round operated by a drunk, Trowa found that his heart hadn’t burst despite the absolutely incredible sex he had just had. Quatre was still breathing as well, and draped over his chest. Smiling tenderly he inquired politely, <<So, how are your shields doing?>> Quatre shifted against him, one hand reaching over to toy with a nipple. <<Insatiable,>> Trowa grumbled in amusement. A pair of blue eyes blinked up at him innocently. <<My shields need…tweaking.>> Trowa started laughing helplessly. ~*~*~*~
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