"Unspoken"

Written By: Honor

Disclaimers: I’ve contracted some guy named Doctor Draken to steal the boys. It’s part of his mad scheme to take over the world. Nifty, huh?

Spoilers: Nope

Rating: Um…hm…NC-15 to be safe

Warnings: Romance, some angst, some shonen-ai, and language

Pairings: 3x4x5x3

Author’s Insane Ramblings:
This…I have no idea where this idea came from. I think it was because of the psychology course I just had to take…and then Jen sent me that Josh Groban cd…maybe it was just a combination of things?
Anyway, enjoy!

‘Soundless speech’

<communicator>

*emphasized*

" Unspoken"

Chapter Four


Don’t give up
It’s just the hurt that you hide
When you’re lost inside
I’ll be there to find you
- You are loved (Don’t give up), Josh Groban, cd Awake


That coffee is not percolating fast enough.

I leaned against the counter, staring at the black liquid that was dripping with excruciating slowness into the pot, and wondered why the hell I was awake at this time of the morning. There wasn’t any reason for it, my brain just woke up a half hour ago and refused to let me go back to sleep. I’d been forced to retreat from the bed before I woke up the other two.

Blindly I stared at the coffee maker while the back of my mind started gibbering in panic. I’d shoved my insecurities about everything to the back of my head and padlocked the door, refusing to think about anything except Quatre. Now that he was on the road to full recovery, however, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

I loved Quatre—that I had no problem with. But sharing him with Trowa? True, we’d been friends from day one, after that humiliating defeat at Treize’s hands. I’d never felt uncomfortable around him. But trying to put Trowa and sex in the same mental space was putting my brain through mental contortions a gymnast would envy. And we would have to be intimate—as Trowa pointed out earlier, we couldn’t give each other privacy and just take turns with Quatre. For one thing, it wouldn’t be fair to our blond to make him choose who he would spend time with; and for another it was a recipe for disaster because eventually one of us would feel left out or like a third wheel.

The only way to solve this was to be lovers with both, but I was frankly unsure that I could do that. And I hate being uncertain about anything. Dammit.

A soft beep came from one of the communicators on the counter and completely by habit I picked it up. It was actually Quatre’s, but I answered it anyway. “Chang.”

<…this is Yuy. Where’s Quatre?>

“Asleep. What do you need?”

<Nothing, I’m just updating him. My mission parameters have changed, and I’ve called in Duo. Tell Quatre we’re both going to be running at least three days late.>

Since Heero couldn’t see me, I grinned in wolfish amusement. The last time that Heero had run late, he hadn’t called anyone to warn us. Quatre had literally flayed him alive for being ‘an insensitive, cold-hearted jerk that enjoys giving his friends an ulcer’ I believe were the exact words. Ever since then, Heero had been practically religious in updating us with his mission status. “Understood. I’ll pass along the message.”

<This might develop to the point that I’ll need him, too.>

“No.” The word was out of my mouth without thought.

There was a heavy silence on the other end. <What’s wrong?>

Cao! Wrong thing to say…as bad as I am about protecting Quatre, Heero’s worse. With the cat out of the bag however, I couldn’t stay silent either. “There’s a situation. The last mission Quatre was on had an interesting side effect that we’re trying to overcome.”

<Is he injured?>

“Not really, he just can’t talk.”

<Laryngitis?>

Why does everyone guess that first? “No, this is completely mental. When H trained him in stealth, he didn’t include a code phrase. Quatre was on complete stealth mode for seven days, and now he can’t break out of it.”

<Kuso.>

“My feelings precisely. We’ve made progress, however. He can make sounds now, just not verbally. Yesterday he could actually play music, which is more than he could do three days ago. I think we’ll regain his voice soon, but until we do and have the ability to retrain him with a code phrase he’s not going on any missions.” That last statement was very firm. I was NOT going through all of this again.

<Does Trowa know about this?>

“Yes, he’s been here since the first day.”

<And Duo?>

“I haven’t told him,” I admitted with a mental cringe. Duo hated being kept out of the loop as much as Quatre did, I was sure to get a verbal haranguing for keeping silent. “He was in communication black out after all.”

<That isn’t going to save you.>

Unfortunately, Heero’s probably right. “Hn. I’ll send him an email later…no wait, if you’re meeting up with him, you can tell him.”

<I’d still send the email. Otherwise he’ll lynch you.>

Good point.

<Do you need us to abort the mission and come there?>

“No, Trowa and I have it under control. Give us a few more days and I think Quatre will be able to talk again. Focus on your mission, Yuy. We’ll take care of the blond.”

<Acknowledged. Good luck.>

“I’m going to need it,” I noted ruefully as I closed the communicator and put it back on the counter. There was a shift of fabric against wood, and my head snapped around to see Trowa leaning just inside the doorway, calmly watching me. How long had he been standing there? “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he returned quietly. There was a light of something in his eyes that I couldn’t determine…but whatever it was made me just a little nervous. “Heero’s running late?”

“By a few days. He’s pulled Maxwell in as well.”

“Ah.” Slowly he straightened and crossed to me, not stopping until he was nothing but a hand’s breath away. The close proximity was making me a little uneasy, but I refused to move and stood my ground. “So Wufei…when did I become Trowa?”

Oh…shit…until this moment I hadn’t recognized the mental shift in my thinking from Barton to Trowa. I’d done it with Quatre too…although that was understandable. Trowa wasn’t though. Looking away I scrubbed a hand roughly through my hair. “I can hardly keep calling you by your last name, all things considered.”

He nodded agreeably, words anything but. “Good argument, but it’s not the real reason.”

“What, you read minds now?” I grumbled irritably.

“You’ve called me Trowa since that night you forced me to tell Quatre how I felt. There was no agreement to try a threesome then.”

Damn his observant hide. “What’s your point?”

“Stop thinking. Stop analyzing. You’ve known since the beginning that there’s only one way for this to end happily. All of this brooding of yours is making you doubt yourself, that’s all.”

“I’ve been concerned since the beginning,” I corrected sharply. “I just didn’t say anything because Quatre has enough to worry about without dealing with my insecurities!”

“So tell them to me,” he challenged. “Don’t let it fester inside of your head.”

Why does he always have to be right? I wrestled with myself, knowing that I needed to talk to him, but at the same time reluctant to reveal anything. It just wasn’t in my nature to share something this personal out loud with another person, no matter how close a friend or what the situation. Curses.

“’Fei,” he murmured softly, and in that single syllable I heard a wealth of encouragement and understanding, as well as the assurance that it was okay to trust—he wouldn’t betray me.

The conflict in my head ended, but I still couldn’t force my eyes to his. The coffee pot was easier to focus on. “You spoke absolute truth that morning, Trowa. I cannot give you privacy with Quatre. We can’t just take turns with him. It wouldn’t work. But I can’t…you’re my friend, my brother in arms, but a lover? I’m having a hard time trying to readjust to that concept.”

“Maybe this will help.”

With gentle fingers he turned my face up. I caught a glint of green eyes before warm and soft lips touched mine, gently coaxing a response. Oh. This was…nice. Cautiously I kissed him back, letting our mouths slide against each other and enjoying the faint sparks of pleasure created from the friction.

A little hesitantly his hands slid down to my hips, encouraging me to come closer. Leaning in, I dared to smooth one hand up his chest and rest on the back of his neck. Actually, the closer proximity made things a lot nicer.

When he stopped kissing me, lifting his head, I growled in protest and yanked his head back down. Maybe I’d had problems imagining Trowa as a lover before, but that wasn’t the case now! He had me all stirred up by kissing me like that, and I wasn’t done with him yet. Not by far.

He groaned as I kissed him hungrily, swiping my tongue over his bottom lip until he parted his lips to grant me entrance. Mmm, much better. He tastes so damn fine.

It was the clapping that got my attention. Jerking back, I looked around sharply until I discovered the source—Quatre, in just boxers with a brilliant smile on his face.

‘Oh don’t stop now!’ he requested with a gamine grin. ‘I was enjoying the show.’

Brat. I felt myself flush a little and cursed the whole situation in my head.

Having an audience didn’t bother Trowa, however, because he started nibbling on my right ear. Despite my embarrassment, I tilted my head a little to give him better access. It just felt too good to push him away. I barely got to enjoy it before he retreated.

“I can see why you like kissing him, Quatre,” Trowa noted with an impish smile at me. “He’s very yummy.”

Quatre was nodding in fervent agreement.

Okay, I can either melt into an embarrassed puddle on the floor or turn the tables. Since gundam pilots and terrorists don’t do embarrassed, I decided to turn the tables. “I just had an idea.”

Trowa arched an eyebrow at me. “Oh?”

I think I’ve been hanging around Maxwell too long…normally I wouldn’t think up things like this. “How about a little competition Trowa?”

I could swear his ears perked. “Doing what?”

I inclined my head toward Quatre, who was staring at me suspiciously. Can’t imagine why. “The first one to make him scream with pleasure wins.”

Quatre was torn between anticipation and uncertainty, if his expression was anything to go by. Trowa reminded me of a goat with a new boot to chew. “Sounds good,” the brunet murmured with wicked delight. “And if I win?”

I can’t believe I’m saying this. “I’ll let you top me. Of course, if I win, I’ll get to top you.”

Trowa looked at me for a long moment, then at Quatre (who was doing the impression of a beached whale rather well, I thought) then nodded in growing anticipation. “Deal.”

Quatre waved his hands in the air, grabbing my attention. ‘How is screwing me senseless supposed to help me regain my voice?’

“You’ve already proven on previous occasions that you respond well to positive, physical attention,” I pointed out with complacent authority. “You went from completely silent to banging on pots just to get Trowa to kiss you. Just imagine how much you’ll improve with two lovers giving you mind-boggling pleasure.”

Trowa was snickering to himself quietly. “That sounds like justification to me.”

I gave him a Look, fighting down the urge to smirk. “Does that mean you’re backing out?”

“Hell no. And miss all the fun?” The smile he shot Quatre was downright wicked. “Come on, love, cooperate. I promise it will be well worth your while.”

Quatre gave us this perplexed scrutiny, as if he were trying to figure out how he got maneuvered into this situation, then he went to one of the cabinets and took out a small bottle of vegetable oil. He didn’t need to say anything or even look at us, just calmly turned and walked away, slipping out of his boxers and kicking them off in a corner somewhere as he went. He has such a nice ass. Have I mentioned that before?

“I think that was an invitation to follow.” My voice was a little husky.

“It had better be,” Trowa growled as he stalked after our blond.

Grinning in wolfish anticipation I followed.

~*~*~*~


Chapter 5

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