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"Thirty One Days "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: drabbles, Thirty One Days of Drabbles,
Three Paragraph Fics, drabble challenge Pairings: Trowa/Quatre (Implied), OMC’s/Quatre Summary: A challenge of three paragraph drabbles for thirty one days. Tags will be added when new drabbles are posted and rating may be subject to change. Notes; Warning for date rape drugging and sexual
assault. "Thirty One Days " Chapter 15: Intoxication
“Atta boy, Quat! It’s peacetime now. We won the war so let’s celebrate in style.” Duo pressed another full shot glass into his hand and he drank it down, surprised that it was a little easier the second time. His mind was already beginning to feel fuzzy, his vision tunneling and when he spoke, it felt as though his mouth had been injected with Novocaine. The flashing, colored lights of the club swirled together in chaotic patterns and the faces around him transformed into eerie parodies of themselves, seemingly viewed through a fish-eye lens. Voices became nonsensical gibberish, echoing around in his head like an alien language. Time seemed to slow down and almost cease to be. His mouth was kissed by men he wasn’t sure he recognized. Parts of his body that had never been touched before were pawed and groped. His head spun dizzily when he was abruptly lifted onto a table, struggling to breathe as a heavy body laid on top of him. He realized with a sickening sense of dread that there was more than tequila in his bloodstream. Pinned down and too drugged to move, he glanced frantically around for Duo, for Trowa, for his friends. Anyone that could help, but he could not locate them. Or maybe they were a part of the endless sea of faces that appeared to leer at him, or part of the chorus of voices that seemed to laugh at him. He squeezed his eyes shut as his shirt was opened. Rough, unfamiliar hands fumbled with his belt and he swallowed hard when the alcohol threatened to come back up, praying he wouldn’t puke. After what seemed like an eternity of torturous moments, enduring a humiliating sexual assault, the body on top of him was wrenched away. He dimly registered shouting and then the face that he knew, but couldn’t place at the moment was hovering over his, anger and concern written all over it. He smiled when he was lifted into familiarly strong arms and smelled the scent that he knew like the back of his hand. Finally safe, he allowed himself to succumb to the drugs he’d unwittingly ingested.
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