|
"Broken Warriors"Written By: Pyrzm Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, written for
fun not for profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, Dark, Angst, Psychological,
drama, fluff. Pairings: Mainly 1x2x1, 3x4x3, 5x6x5 but multiple
pairings also. Summary: The GW boys were trained for war, but not for peace. What happens when ex-terrorist teens find themselves alive and in the limelight after a war none of them expected to survive? Where's Heero? What the heck is that outfit 04 has on?? And why is 05 still so grumpy? Notes: Don't let the opening chapters fool you. NOT a death fic *wink* Post-Series. Most of Endless Waltz movie is ignored. Credit where credit is due: This series would never have happened if I had not discovered GW through PL Nunn's incredible artwork. Too yummy for words, especially her Duo, who is to die for. Check it out at: www.bishonenworks.com Warning: when she says "adult content" she means it! None of her art work is based on this series :-( and none of these stories are based on any of her pictures directly. I just like her style. So PL, where ever you are, this one's for you. Feedback welcome!
"Broken Warriors"
Ch. 92: Late Night Talk Radio "That's right folks, this hour of "Ask Dr. Mike" is brought to you by Mama LaTour's Cajun Shrimp Boil Mix. Best in New Orleans! Mama LaTour's, one of WVDO's many fine sponsors. "And now, back to our show. For those of you just joining the program, I'm Dr. Mike and we have a very interesting young man on the line. 'Trey' is married to another young man he claims to love, but has had some feelings for his best friend's fiance--they're both boys, too, listeners--and his best friend, too maybe. And, as came out just before the station break, he once slept with the man another male friend of his has hooked up with." "That's not what I--" "How old are you, Trey?" "Um, does that matter?" "Yes, I think so." "Twenty." "Twenty! Sounds to me like-- What the hell was that noise?" "Fire truck." "A fire truck? I see. So you're not calling from home?" "No." "Is there something you're not telling us, Trey? Did your 'husband' kick you out tonight?" "No! I'm taking a walk." "At two in the morning?" "Yeah." "OoooooK. Our Trey is a man of few words, folks. So, long story short, you've gotten around. Have there been other relationships in your life, Trey? Sexual relationships?" "I wouldn't call them relationships." "Encounters, then." "Yes." "How many? . . . Trey, you still with us?" "Yes. I was trying to estimate." "It doesn't have to be exact. More than ten?" "Yes." "More than twenty? Trey?" "I would estimate several hundred." "Uh, could you repeat that, Trey? I think your cell phone may have faded out there for a minute." "Several hundred." "Hundreds?" An audible sigh. "Yes." "Did the guy you married know this?" "Of course." "OK. Well, that's good, I guess. How many of these other encounters happened since you two got married?" "None! I've never cheated on him." "But you'd like to, with this other man you told me about?" "What? No! It wouldn't be cheating. That's what I was trying to explain. And that's not why I called. I keep telling you, I just wanted an opinion as to whether I should tell my other friend that I slept with his fiance before they met, and if I need therapy or not. I don't think so, but my friends say I do. Why are we talking about my sexual history?" "Well, Trey, I think it's a very good indicator that you do need some help. Sounds to me like you're a classic sex addict." "Really?" "Oh yeah, Trey! Were you molested as a child?" "Dr. Mike?" "Yes, Jenny? That's my producer, folks. She screens the calls on our show. Do you have another caller for us?" "Yes, Dr. Mike. I have a young man on the line claiming to be Trey's husband. He'd like to speak to him." "Put him through, Jenny! This should be interesting, folks! See, it pays to be an insomniac in the Big Easy. Go ahead, caller. What would you like to say to Trey?" "Trey? It's 'Honey'." "Uh oh. Ummmm, hi Honey." "Hang up the phone, Trey. Now." "Dr. Mike, we've lost Trey, but Honey's still on the line." "Thanks Jenny. Hi, Honey! Well, you and Trey certainly have an interesting--" "Excuse me, Dr. Mike. Do you hold a degree in clinical psychology or psychiatry?" "Well, now, I don't see how--" "That's what I thought. Good bye, Mike." "He's gone, too, Dr. Mike." "Ouch! Sounds like Trey's Honey isn't so sweet, after all! If you boys are still listening, Dr. Mike says maybe you should try couples counseling. Our fine sponsor, Crystal Starsinger Shambala, specializes in gay intimacy issues . . ." # Quatre had been fast asleep in a nest of pillows when Trowa had slipped out for a restless late night stroll. As he punched in the security code and let himself back in the courtyard gate, he looked up and saw that the bedroom lights were on upstairs now. Guilt and embarrassment dogged his footsteps as he forced himself across the garden, past the reconstructed fountain and up the wrought iron staircase to the gallery. He paused outside the window and peeked in through a gap in the curtains. Kat was still in bed, clad in that special silky therapeutic singlet he had to wear at night for his healing skin. It was an odd, asexual sort of thing, in an unattractive gray with white trim. Between that, the arm and leg splints, and the new hairstyle, he looked like a demented video game character. He was still lying on his stomach, but his chin was propped up on pillows as he watched the door. He had his cell phone and a small radio on the bed beside him. Trowa took a deep breath and went in, but stopped just inside the door, head down, hands jammed deep in the pocket of his jeans, unsure of his welcome. Quatre shook his head and held out a hand. Trowa went to him and took it, letting Quatre pull him down beside him. He stroked Trowa's bangs back to look him in the eye, but he was smiling sadly as he said, "Really now. Dr. Mike? Trey?" Trowa dropped his face into his arms on the comforter. "How the hell did you know? Are you empathing in your sleep now or something?" "Nope. Cathy heard you on the radio and called me. Why, Trowa?" "I don't know! I couldn't sleep. I was listening to the radio while I walked and he came on. Heero's been after me to talk to someone." "But Dr. Mike? His doctorate is in physical education! I checked on line." Trowa groaned. "So, I'm a not a sex addict?" "I don't know about that, but you're a sap on the radio. He totally led you. Heero gave me Batoosingh's card. Call him tomorrow. Trowa? Tro? *Trey?*" "Yes! All right! You win. I'll call," Trowa mumbled into the bed. Quatre kissed him on the back of the neck. "Thank you, Treyyyyyy." "You're going to keep calling me that, aren't you?" "I kinda like it." He could hear Quatre grinning. "It's sexy. Trey the Horney Sex Addict." Trowa's growl of embarrassment changed quickly to an 'ahhh' of pleasure as Quatre licked the back of his neck, then began pulling at the jacket he was still wearing. Quatre's voice was suddenly a husky whisper as he murmured, "Strip for me, Trey." "Oh god!" Trowa gasped. That tone of voice from Quatre never failed to instantly arouse him. It was like the thinking part of his brain just shorted out, while all the sex instincts went on high alert. He rolled off the bed, quickly shed jacket and boots, then made a slower, more sensuous show of peeling off his snug black tee shirt and jeans. Standing there in his red and black briefs, he looked to Quatre for direction. Quatre looked quickly around the room, then had Trowa help him off the bed and over to the overstuffed armchair in the corner. He couldn't sit in it, with his tender back against the upholstery, but instead had Trowa drop his briefs and sit down. Kneeling between his spread thighs, Quatre found a comfortable way to rest his forearms over Trowa's on the chair arms without putting too much weight on them. Then he bent down and took his lover's already hard and ready cock into his mouth and proceeded to lick and suck Trey the Horney Sex Addict right out of his mind with pleasure. It was the first time since the explosion that Quatre had been able to touch him like this. Trowa gripped the arms of the chair, forcing himself to remain still and not do anything that might hurt his wounded lover. "That's right," Quatre whispered, pulling off his cock to kiss his way up Trowa's trembling belly. "Don't move. Keep your hands still. Imagine that they're tied there." The silky material of his singlet brushed across Trowa's neglected hard on. "Ah! Oh, yes!" Trowa closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the back of the chair. "Mmmmmm. You like that," Quatre growled, and nipped Trowa's left nippple. "You have to let me be in charge now, don't you? If you move, if you try to grab me and take control, it's all over. You just have to sit there and take it, don't you?" "Nngh! Yes!" Suddenly it was excruciating not to move, but intensely erotic, too. Quatre lapped at his right nipple, then circled it with a firm tongue until Trowa let out a long whine of excitement. "Bondage without ropes, Trey. All I need is my voice to hold you here. Isn't that right? All I have to do is tell you what I want, and you'll do it." "Yessss!" "Stay absolutely still, Trey." Quatre was shaking a little now; he didn't have much reserve strength and even with his lower body supported against the chair, it was an awkward position for him. Trowa wanted to tell him they could stop, that he should go back to bed and rest, that they could pick this up again later, but now Quatre was kissing down his belly again, and taking his cock again, deep-throating him with long, smooth strokes of lips and tongue and throat. //I can't move,// Trowa told himself, abandoning himself totally to the sensations to speed things along. //I'm completely in his power. I'm helpless. Can't move. Can't get away. Can't do anything but lie here and accept it . . .// And that's all it took. The mind game, along with the restriction of not moving when the massive orgasm hit only made it hotter. He screamed as his whole body spasmed in place and his balls emptied themselves down his 'Honey's' throat. "Oh! Oh, fuck! Oh, meu mestre pequeno bonito!" Quatre licked him clean and collapsed panting against his legs. "That--that was so--- hot! But I think-- you're going-- to have to help 'pretty little master'--- back to bed--- I can't move." "I'm not sure I can." Quatre let out a not very masterful giggle. "No hurry." Trowa took a few deep breaths and opened his eyes, looking down in love and a touch of awe at the tousled head resting on his knee. Quatre's breath was quick and hot against his balls, tickling his softening cock as it shrank slowly back to normal. Quatre always had been the master tactician, and the best talker. It was still a powerful combination. When Trowa trusted his own coordination again, he carried Quatre back to bed and settled back into his nest of pillows and blankets, and stretched out naked beside him. He pulled up the covers, and turned out the lights, then stroked Quatre's hair, and kissed him softly on his warm lips and cheek, savoring his own scent lingering there. "I did realize one thing, after talking to Dr. Mike." "Mmmm? Whassat?" Kat was almost asleep already. "I've never cheated on you because I've never wanted to," Trowa whispered, kissing him again. "Never even been tempted, not even with Heero. If we ever did anything, it would be with all four of us, together, agreeing, and that's different. But I don't need that, not like I need you." Quatre let out a fond, sleepy sound as he found Trowa's hand among the pillows and ran his thumb over the new ring. "I know, love. S'why I married you." TBC |
