|
"Agglomeration"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Yaoi,
Humor Pairings: 3x4x3 Summary: Which Gundam shall it be tonight? "Your Gundam, or Mine? " It wasn't easy making love inside a mobile suit. Trowa and Quatre had figured that out first hand. There was precious little room for two people inside the cockpit of a Gundam, but sometimes it was the only place they could retreat to for a little bump and grind. In the middle of a war, you took what you could get. Luckily neither one of them were big people, but it still didn't make things any more comfortable. They figured out the best way was for Trowa to sit in the control chair while Quatre straddled his lap. They tried having Quatre drape himself over the back of the seat while Trowa thrust into him from behind, but that had had disastrous consequences when Trowa's ass smacked into the control panel. The result had caused Heavyarms to fire up its thrusters and knocked both pilots out cold when the subsequent lurch conked their heads into the metal ceiling. Duo had found them, butt naked and sprawled awkwardly over the chair. He was still laughing about it even though it had been four months ago. Their preferred current position removed the risk of that happening again, but it wasn't easy for Quatre to slide his legs beneath the chairs arms. But since beggars couldn't be choosers, they made it work. After a particularly grueling battle that occurred over Shanghai, the adrenaline rush was causing Trowa to feel especially frisky. He shifted inside Heavyarms' cockpit as his burgeoning erection pressed against the front of his jeans. He opened a private channel to Sandrock. "Zero Four." "Yes, Zero Three. I read you." "Heavyarms, or Sandrock?" "Wh - now?" "Roger." "Damn it, Trowa! Can't it wait until we find a campsite?" "Negative." "Ugh. Fine. Sandrock then." "Copy that." Quatre cut the connection and rubbed his face. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy sex with Trowa. He loved it, but this whole fuck-in-a-Gundam thing was getting old. He still had bruises on the tops of his thighs from the chair arms digging into them the last time Trowa wasn't able to wait. At least Sandrock's arms were a little higher which gave him a tiny bit more room for his legs. Not much, but it would have to do. Trowa was always especially amorous after battle which meant the sex was particularly enjoyable. He only wished Trowa could wait until they found a place where they had more room to move around. A knock at the hatch startled him out of his thoughts and he punched the button to open the door. His comm link buzzed to life just as Trowa was trying to squeeze in beside him. "Yeah, uh...could you guys maybe not knock each other out this time?" Quatre irritably pressed the call button, snarling into the microphone. "Zip it, Zero Two." There was a cackle on the other end of the line and Quatre slapped the connection closed. He glared up at Trowa who was already busy shucking his clothing in the tight space, every so often smacking an elbow, or knee into him. Trowa raised a brow at him. "What?" He shook his head. "Nothing." He slipped the buttons of his shirt out of their holes as Trowa, already undressed, went to work on Quatre's belt and trousers. The slid against each other as they switched positions and Trowa sat back into the seat. Quatre pushed his legs through the arm holes and settled down into his lover's lap, hissing as Trowa's erection pressed up into him. After a heated kiss, Quatre found himself quickly getting into the mood as Trowa ground his groin against his backside. He rubbed his ass over the hardness, his own erection brushing against Trowa's abdomen, beginning to tremble with arousal. Okay. It wasn't the Ritz, but it had its perks. He was ready, so damn ready now. "Mmm...Trowa. Fuck me." He jerked his head up as Trowa cursed brokenly, glancing down at his lover to see him almost sulking. "What's wrong?" "I left the lube in Heavyarms."
~ * ~ |
