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" The Lifestyle"Written By: Presser Pairings : 1x2x1 Disclaimer : Gundam Wing characters aren't mine, I do not make any money from writing Gundam Wing fanfiction. Rating : NC 17 Warnings : Explicit and graphic sex, AU, Drama, BDSM Spoilers: None Feedback : Feedback is always welcome, especially constructive criticism. Don't hold back; I enjoy learning how to improve. Archived at http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com/gw/Presser/gwPresser.htm Notes: /thoughts/ \emphasis\ Torture isn't included in the warnings above because,
although torture talk is a part of the BDSM culture, and although
many outside the scene think that torture is what is going on during
BDSM play, torture (as I understand it) is something that happens
without consent. Most BDSM practitioners are quite concerned and insistent
that consent be given before playing a scene with anyone, as you will
learn in this fic.
"The Lifestyle"
Chapter 1
Six soft raps on the door to my den, which was partially open. /That would be Quatre,/ I thought, who was expected -- not that it could be anyone else. He even \knocks\ politely. I looked up to see bright, aqua eyes under pale yellow bangs almost as messy as my own. "Heero? Okay to come in?" I stretched, let out a groan to relieve the tenseness of sitting hunched over a PC for so long. "Sure, Quat, come on in." "Whacha doin'?" "Jailbreaking an iPhone." "Really!" He hurried to my side, intent on seeing the process. Not for the first time, I admired my friend's lithe body. That Saturday afternoon he was wearing frayed khaki short shorts, flip-flops, and a business blue Oxford button-down that had been washed too many times to be worn to work any longer. It was completely unbuttoned, revealing Quatre's pale chest, a turquoise necklace, and a faint treasure trail of little blond hairs pointing from his navel to his shorts. "So where are you?" I jerked my eyes up to his. "I'm just about to install AppSnapp. That gets me about halfway there." Quatre put his hand lightly on my shoulder and leaned down to my MacBook Pro, his nose almost touching the screen. I felt the heat of his neck against my cheek. "Gee, Heero, why're you doing it this way? The new update can be jailbroken without going through all of this. It's like a, uh, one-button click or something. Isn't it?" He straightened up and gave me that quizzical kitten look of his. I smiled and stood, stretching again. He took a step back to give me room. "Well," I said, running my fingers through my hair, then shaking it out of my eyes, "this isn't for me; it's for a friend who wants the 1.1.2 update but not the 1.1.4." Quatre did a stretched-out, Tim-the-Toolman-Taylor monkey-man "huuuh?" noise. "But that's crazy!" "Crazy or not, it's what she wants. When I told her the only way was to follow the old, insanely tedious multi-step method, and that she'd never find anyone who would be willing to do it, she offered to pay me. I figured I could use some extra pocket money, so . . ." "So you're doing the old-fashioned, insanely tedious multi-step method for her." "Yep." Quatre smiled. "You would." "You might, too, if you knew what she's paying me." Quatre raised an eyebrow. "Oh, right," I said, sheepishly, "I never remember that line doesn't apply to you." "So," Quatre said. He walked to the sofa and perched his butt on the back of it, then leaned back, the heels of both hands wide to either side on the edge. His shirt opened up to reveal soft, pink nipples. "You've got some spare cash to spend." "I will by tonight. I'm supposed to deliver this at four-thirty. It'll only take another hour, and that --" Quatre blurted out, "I know where you can spend it." I stopped short. It wasn't what he said, or the fact that he had interrupted me so thoroughly; it was that Quatre had an unmistakable leer on his face, something I had never seen there before; not even when he was getting sexy with Trowa, his lover, in a back booth at Masque, our favorite weekend hangout. "You -- do?" I must have looked surprised, because Quatre laughed, a sound like flutes and falling water. "C'mon, Heero. Who knows how to spend money better than me?" That's true, of course. Quatre is the only son of one of the wealthiest men alive, and has never known want. For all that, he's amazingly humble. Not that he doesn't know how to wield the power of money; he just chooses not to flaunt it, which is why his remark took me by surprise. I stuttered, having been hit twice: once by the overt lust on my good friend's face, and then by his almost in-your-face assertion about money. "Um, well, I guess, you're --" He laughed again. "You don't know what to do with me today, do you?" My eyebrows shot up. My mouth opened, closed. Quatre clapped his hands together, smiled gleefully, and lifted his heels off the floor. He tipped over the edge of the couch and landed on the overstuffed cushions on the front, giggling nonstop. I ran to the couch. "Quatre? You okay?" He looked up at me with a big grin on his face, then burst into laughter again, holding his hands over his stomach. "Heero, you're priceless." Wondering what had gotten into my friend, I went around the couch and sat down, near Quatre's feet. Calming my features, I said: "I don't understand." "Don't worry," Quatre said, suddenly calm and with a sweet smile on his face, "you will." He quickly sat up and put his hand on my knee. I flinched -- tried to keep from it, but he startled me -- and then blushed. "Heero, let me explain. Trowa and I have been planning this for a long time. We've been watching you, and we've decided you're ready. My defenses sprang to life. "For what?" My face must have shown wariness, because Quatre said, "Oh, come on. I'm not kidnapping you or anything. Although . . ." A sly smile slowly bloomed on his lips as he tilted his head toward me. I went for gentle but firm. "You want to stop playing with me?" I winced inside. /More firm than gentle, damnit./ "Not at all, Heero, not at all." He laughed again. I must have shown exasperation -- are you picking up on the fact that I'm not in touch enough with my emotions to know what's displaying on my face most of the time? -- because Quatre finally launched into a serious explanation of what was going on. "Listen, here's what's up. Trowa and I like to -- well, we like, um, kink." He paused. "Kink." My tone of voice was flat. "Yeah, kink. Nothing terribly evil, just, well, stuff that spices up the relationship, that's all." He was talking fast and not looking at me. /What the hell?/ "O . . . kay . . ." "And there's a club we go to occasionally -- not Masque, of course -- it's only open two weekends a month, not Masque, I mean, it's open all the time, of course, but the other club, the one I'm trying to tell you about, and one of them is this weekend, erm, one of the weekends it's open, I mean, tonight, in fact, and, well, Trowa and I were wondering, I mean, hoping that -- that you'd join us." The words cannonballed out of him so quickly that I wasn't completely sure I understood him. "You want me to go to a club." /Must keep face straight . . ./ He nodded, eyes bright. "A club where they . . . do kink." Bigger nod, brighter eyes. /Goddamn: he's holding his breath./ "Well . . ." "Oh, say 'Yes,' Heero. It'll do you some good." I raised one eyebrow. "It will? How?" /Goddamn again: he's blushing!/ "Erm, well, maybe I shouldn't have said --" I took a deep breath; spoke evenly. "Look, Quat, why don't you -- I don't know, calm down, maybe? I'm not sure I get what you want -- or, rather, why you want it." He drew a big breath and blew it out all at once; put his hand on his chest; looked up at me and grinned sheepishly. "Damn, Heero, I'm sorry. I had this all planned out, but it's harder than I thought it would be." I waited. Patiently, let me add. "Okay, um . . ." he gulped air and blew it out again. "So, um . . . damn, now I'm embarrassed." /You're just now noticing?/ "Quat . . ." One final sigh, then he finally settled down. "There's really nothing to be embarrassed about. After all, we're all adults, right?" /Again: What the hell?/ "Trowa, you, me, and . . ." "And . . . ?" "Well, the thing is, Tro and I have, um, noticed, I guess, that you, well, you're . . ." I wasn't particularly interested in making this easier for Quatre, but I really wanted to get to the bottom of whatever it was, so I helped things along. "You've noticed that I'm . . ." "Well, alone." Pause. "Sexually." Serious, red-faced pause, both of us. "Oh, god, Heero . . ." "No, no, that's okay. I don't really date, and . . . and so . . ." Now it was my turn to fumble for words. "Um . . ." "Yeah . . . awkward." Quatre looked down at his feet. When I spoke -- using all the diplomacy at my disposal -- he looked up and into my eyes. I spoke slowly, measuring out my words. "You think that because I'm not in a relationship right now that I'm lonely. "And . . . you and Trowa want to help me solve that problem. "By taking me out for an evening of kinky play. "In public." Quatre kept a neutral face during this matter-of-fact recitation. When I finished, he batted his eyes a couple of times -- an unconscious reflex, nothing more, I'm sure -- before speaking with a quiet voice and tiny smile. "Well, when you put it like that . . ." I sighed slowly. There were so many things wrong with this that I hardly knew where to begin. Quatre shifted on the couch, turning to face me and crossing his legs Indian-style. He folded his hands, rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned toward me. "Heero, look, we're not feeling sorry for you, if that's what you think. We're not pitying you. But we've dropped hints here and there about, um, about kinky things, over the past few weeks, and you've never reacted negatively. On more than one occasion you even showed a little interest. Since you aren't in a relationship right now, and since Tro and I really get a lot of pleasure from going to this club, and since you seem to be, well, maybe a little bit open to the idea . . ." "You thought you'd invite me out for a good time." Quatre smiled weakly. "Yeah." Pause. "You're not mad?" I thought about that, then answered, "No, I'm not. A little perplexed, because I had no idea what you were driving at." "Well, I was nervous. I was pretty sure -- okay, hopeful -- you'd be open to the idea, but didn't know how to approach you about it." That was interesting: the idea that I was open to an evening of public kink with two of my best friends. I fell silent, thinking about that. Suddenly the desire to look at Quatre's body came over me from nowhere. I closed my eyes, resisting. Finally, I opened my eyes and looked directly into Quatre's face. "I wouldn't have to participate, would I?" Quatre quickly shook his head. "No. No one is ever pressured to do anything they don't want to do. We have a few members who just come to watch -- that's all. And everyone's okay with that." Call it boredom; call it missing the full-on high that comes from being immersed in a mission; or call it living safe for too long; whatever you call it, it tipped me over the decision point. "What time?" Quatre squealed, lunged at me, and fell, laughing, on my chest, knocking me on my back. As I sunk into the overstuffed cushions of my couch, I tentatively put my hands on his back and thought, /Yuy, what have you done?/
Chapter 2 |
