|
"I wish I were you "Written By: Lisa-chan Disclaimer: The G-boys are not mine. I only use
them for loads of fun and for putting them in compromising situations
and stuff. Rating: NC-17 Warnings: yaoi, Lime, Lemon, Yaoi, and all that
jazz ;p Pairings:1x2, 5x6, 2x4, 3x4 Summary: Everyone always sees Heero and Duo as the perfect couple. But what if Duo finds out that Heero’s extremely possessive and jealous? And what if Heero finds out that Duo has a not so secret admirer? Author’s note: This thing has taken me more than five years of my life, excluding the beta-reading, so I hope it will make you laugh and cry, it will make you hard or wet or horny or whatever, In short, I hope you’ll like it! :D Thanks to Lathroniel for the beta-reading.
"I Wish I Were You" 21. More confessions
Quatre was blankly staring ahead of him. His hands and mind were working separate from each other. His hands were wiping glasses dry, his mind was, amidst his dumb love for Duo, silently hating the boy. That slip of the tongue he’d made just now, didn’t I pour it out over you and… That had been extremely reckless of him. Ever since the topic of the vodka had come up, he’d been holding his heart that Duo wouldn’t remember how they’d been using all of it, and if he did, not to open his tell-tale mouth about it. But he had. Only for a moment, only one stupid slip of the tongue, but it had been enough to ignite a fuse, and now it was only a matter of time until everything would explode. Perhaps he’d better confess everything to Trowa right now. It was already too late anyway. He’d seen the light bulb going off in his head, connecting all the facts to one conclusion. All he would still need to be sure was Quatre’s own horrible, devastating confirmation. But he dreaded his reaction. He knew it wouldn’t be just surprise. Oh no. It would go farther than that. But… how far? They were only friends, right? But god… what was he thinking now? He would be crushed. To know that his dear little friend was capable of such a low, foul act. He would be emotionally destroyed, and their friendship, the bond they had, would be history. “Quatre.” “Huh?” Quatre jumped awake from his disputing thoughts and looked up in the gentle eyes of his friend, though they held a peculiar edge to them now. “What is it, Trowa?” “You already did that glass.” “Oh… I did?” “Yeah.” Trowa sighed, and he took the glass from Quatre, as the boy seemed lost about what to do with it. “Here, I’ll take it.” He made to set the glass on the shelve, but turned back to Quatre, stopping him when he reached for another wet glass. “Quatre, is there something wrong?” Quatre shrugged. “Why would there be something wrong?” “You like doing the dishes that much that you’d wipe the same glass twice?” “I was just distracted for a moment.” “No Quatre, that’s not it.” Trowa took Quatre’s head between his hands and gently turned it to meet his eyes. “I know that you’re hiding something. What Duo said just now… Just what has happened last night, Quatre?” Quatre bit his lip, like a child, trying to deceive him like a child, but he knew it wouldn’t work. He would find out sooner or later. What was he ever thinking he could get away with it? Then wouldn’t it be better if he told him personally? “You’re right, there is something I need to tell you.” He gently pulled Trowa’s hands down from his face, took a deep breath and lowered his eyes, unable to look at him while he would say it. Trowa closed his eyes, as if they would shut the words Quatre was about to say out of his ears. “What do you have to tell me?” And yet he heard them, burning on his eardrums, so painfully. “I’m in love with Duo.” “What?!” Trowa heard a shattering sound. For a moment, he thought it was the sound of his heart slamming to pieces. With stupid, glazed eyes, he looked down to his feet, and saw that in reality, it was the glass he’d been holding. He’d dropped it. “Shit!” He quickly dropped to his knees and started collecting the broken pieces. He’d been shocked by Quatre’s words. He had expected him to admit that he indeed had slept with Duo last night. Which was also bad. But that would only have been sexual relief, nothing more. But no, he was in love with him. In love! He had feelings for him; his suspicion had turned into reality. He wondered why it shocked him so much, while in fact… He had known it for a very long time. “I’ll help you,” Quatre offered. “No, it’s okay!” Trowa barked, keeping his eyes focused on the broken glass, not wanting his friend to see his forming tears. But Quatre had already kneeled beside him with a dustbin. “Ow! Dammit!” he suddenly cursed, and sharply pulled away from one of the fragments. Deep red started to bubble on his finger. “Careful, Trowa,” Quatre said. “Let me see.” He took Trowa’s hand, his soft fingers making the torture a tangible thing, and looked at the injured finger. “It’s not that bad.” No, not that bad as the imaginative punch in the stomach you just gave me, Trowa thought bitterly. “You’re gonna stain your clothes,” Quatre said. “Here, let me…” and he gently started sucking on the finger. Trowa failed to hold back his moan of pleasure and misery at the wet contact. Just licking the blood off, just licking the blood off! his mind screamed at him. But that wasn’t what his heart, his cock told him. The damp and aching feeling in his groin was undeniable and unbearable. “Does it hurt, Trowa?” Quatre asked, in all honesty not having a clue what Trowa was really picturing in his mind. “Uhm… Well,” Trowa stammered. Quatre let out a sound of sympathy, and again took Trowa’s finger in his mouth, his tongue moving in much the same way as it would over that treacherously stirring body part between Trowa’s legs. His cock knew no mercy. His hands acted quicker than his mind could think, and before he was conscious of it, Trowa had forced Quatre’s head up to his mouth and hungrily kissed the startled blonde’s lips. He pulled away again, and everything came out, in sobs and hiccups, his agony no longer contained, but streaming down his cheeks. He felt his lips forming the words, heard himself speaking his desires. He heard how impossible, pathetic, platonic it all sounded. But it felt like he wasn’t really saying those words, like some other Trowa controlled what he said, and no matter how hard he kept on screaming to stop, that other Trowa just kept talking and talking and… Until a sudden sharp sting on his cheeks brought him to an abrupt halt. Quatre had hit him. “What are you saying, Trowa?” Quatre hissed. “I’m saying that I love you,” Trowa said, perplexed. He couldn’t believe Quatre’s eyes could ever be as cold as they were now. As if the liquid ocean blue of his wide irises had frosted over. The air around them suddenly felt heavy, like that time when he’d sat on his bed with him, but much worse this time, like it was poisonous, slowly killing him. “No.” Quatre shook his head, his eyes sad now. “Why do you have to make everything complicated now? I only just told you I’m in love with Duo.” The words sounded unearthly to Trowa. He knew he could’ve been expecting them, but now that he heard them, he couldn’t accept them. Not Duo! Who was making things complicated here? Duo was with Heero! He felt a sudden uproar in his stomach from all the butterflies that lived there, but they didn’t tickle anymore. Their wings had turned into sharp razors and he felt them almost physically cutting in his insides, fluttering up his lungs, constricting around his throat, untill he found he could hardly speak anymore. “Quatre,” he whispered hoarsely as he watched the boy turn around the counter. He followed him. “Don’t follow me,” Quatre tried to snap, though Trowa had heard the sob in his voice, and he did follow him. “Don’t follow me!” Quatre repeated, firmer this time, turning around. “I’m sorry, but…I just don’t love you. Not like that.” “Quatre…” Trowa whispered again. “Don’t follow me.” And Quatre left the bar. Trowa covered his eyes. He had not seen this coming. He felt his feet staggering, and he dropped himself on a barstool. His arms fell on the countertop, his head fell between them. He felt something starting at the back of his throat, and he rumbled, groaned, screamed out his agony.
Quatre sat huddled up on the couch in the lounge room. He shuddered when he heard the scream. Almost immediately after, he heard a jumble of feet on the stairs. Of course, his worried friends. Just what he needed. They spilled into the room, all four of them, as if they had internal radar systems to pinpoint where he was. A barrage of questions was sent his way, which he replied to with one quite simple answer: “I don’t want to talk about it.” Silence. Quatre counted the seconds until they would start again. It was four. Well, three and a half actually. His eyes were fixed on the table top. There was dust on it. He’d need to wipe that off. Later. His head started to hurt, and he raised his hand, softly rubbing his temple. He sighed while he waited for the noise of their voices to stop. It didn’t. “Shut up!” he yelled. They did shut up. Quatre yelling like that was something worth shutting up for. “I said I don’t want to talk about it! If you must know, then go ask Trowa!” And with that information, he stormed out of the room and up the stairs. ~*~ Quatre fell backwards on his bed, naked after a shower, in his ‘new’ room. It was 11 p.m. He’d been here since the fiasco downstairs. He had skipped dinner. He hadn’t been hungry, still wasn’t. He hadn’t bothered moving the rest of his stuff to his new bedroom. He’d do it tomorrow. If he felt like it. His clothes lay in small heaps on the floor, all of them. Maybe he’d sleep naked tonight. The sheet caressed his back, his ass. He rather liked it. And there was silence! Ten minutes ago, he’d heard Heero and Duo clambering up the stairs, acting ridiculous, as usual. He knew they were in their room, and he had a strong suspicion of exactly what they were doing there. But he didn’t hear a thing! Wufei had been exaggerating when he said he could still hear them, even with earplugs. Or maybe they just hadn’t started yet. And for a brief moment, he thought he might sleep well tonight. But the moment he’d crawled under the sheet and closed his eyes, he knew that, even now, that wasn’t going to be the case. His lips still felt that kiss, behind his closed eyelids, he still saw those green, painfilled eyes. “Trowa,” he sighed. “Why did you have to make it so complicated?” He shook his head and violently turned around. The kiss was still there, and so were the eyes. Something told him this was going to be a long night. To be continued… Chapter 22 |
