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"Breathless"Written By: Waterliliylf Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. All rights
remain with Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. No profit being
made here. Rating: R Warnings: sap, angst, fluff Pairings: 3x4, 13x2 Summary: Quatre finds himself introduced to an
annoying young man, one he can't seem to get out of his head. "Breathless"
Chapter 15: [In which Quatre and Trowa teach each other the benefits of snuggling.....] Quatre finally started to stir around dawn. Trowa didn't have curtains or blinds on any of the windows; he liked to see the sky and it wasn't like he had neighbours who could to look in. It was probably the lightening sky that had woken the blond. He'd slept like a baby for hours. Trowa hadn't slept much; he didn't nowadays. He'd envied the blond in his arms who'd gone out like a light, right in the middle of some conversation Trowa didn't much want to think about. 'Hey.' 'Good morning.' Quatre blinked, just once, and then his eyes opened properly. He was so transparent; you could read every expression that flitted across his face. Like Duo. A quick moment of wondering where he was, and with whom; he probably wasn't the sort who regularly woke up in strange beds. With strange men. Then a sweet, lovely smile for his companion. People didn't, generally, look at Trowa like that, like his presence was a gift for them. And then that little bit of confusion that was so obviously - did we have sex? - that it made Trowa laugh. Laugh and kiss his mouth. 'We didn't. You'd remember it. I promise. How are you feeling?' Quatre stretched, as much he could within the confines of a narrow bed, and one that was mostly occupied by a larger body. 'Ugh. Stiff.' 'Yeah. Me too.' Trowa, very deliberately stretched out to let him feel the proof of that. Quatre managed a fairly creditable glare, given the early hour. Or no, Duo had said he was a morning person. That would be a killer; having a boyfriend who was perky first thing. 'I meant, I'm cramped.' 'Yeah. Me too.' Trowa grinned at him. 'You can't complain. You treated me like your favourite pillow all night. And you're heavier than you look. Or at least you are after eight hours.' 'Well, you should have a bigger bed,' Quatre retorted calmly. Never at a loss, was he? 'I do.' He wasn't sure if it was meant to be an invitation or not until Quatre rolled off him. Despite the cramps and the muscles that had either gone to sleep or downright died, he missed having the blond sprawled over him. 'Where is it?' He smiled when he saw Trowa's bed. Not a bed, really, but a raised sleeping platform that took up most of his room. 'Now, this is so much better.' 'Glad it meets with your approval,' Trowa muttered. For some reason, he'd thought Quatre would be the self-conscious type, but he'd happily walked through the house naked. Then again, why would he have to be self-conscious? He was perfect. Flawless skin, unmarked by so much as a freckle and that golden hair. Golden everywhere, with the sun on him. Underneath those prissy, pastel clothes, you could see that he was in great shape. Nothing to be remotely self-conscious about. Trowa was the one who felt just a little uncomfortable, with those eyes studying him. Of course, he was looking at the scar. They always did, first. And Trowa had been careful to let him walk first, so Quatre hadn't seen the marks on his back yet. Unlike most people, he didn't immediately look away. He trailed one finger up Trowa's left thigh, knee to hip and left it on his hipbone, tracing little circles. 'Was it a knife?' 'Yeah.' It hadn't actually been all that deep. But Duo had patched it up, using the most basic supplies they'd had available and it had left that livid scar. 'Well?' Trowa forced himself just to stand there, with Quatre Winner studying him almost objectively. 'What's the verdict?' 'You've got freckles. I like that. And you're lovely.' Quatre said it quite matter-of-factly, with another of those smiles. God. It felt like the sun had come out, just for you, when he did that. 'Not exactly in pristine condition.' He wasn't quite sure why he'd said that; whether he was looking for reassurance or flattery or what. But he guessed Quatre would probably get the deeper meaning; that his body, scarred and all, was pretty much a map of his past. Quatre touched his leg again. 'I asked Duo once where he got the knife scar on his stomach.' Blue eyes lifted to green. 'He told me about it.' He bent his head and touched his lips to the ragged seam that had never quite fused together. 'He said you saved his life.' 'I think we agreed last night, Duo talks too much.' 'And you don't talk enough,' Quatre retorted, softening it with one of those melting smiles, and then lying back on the mattress. He looked good against Trowa's dark blue sheets. Very good. 'Trowa.' 'Quatre.' 'This probably sounds stupid,' he reached one hand to take Trowa's, 'but I'd really rather we didn't do anything until I talk to Wufei.' 'You said last night that you hadn't even made any definite arrangements to see each other again. I hardly think he has any kind of claim on you.' 'He hasn't. But I know he wants to. I've never cheated on anyone in my life.' Fuck. Or, rather, not. Principles were fine, for people who could afford them, and who'd never had them tested. Trowa didn't have very many, and he didn't see the point of this particular one. Quatre had been on one date with the guy, and he was acting like he'd be betraying his husband or something. If this Wufei guy hadn't been smart enough to grab Quatre when he had the chance, then it was his bad luck. 'A ditzy blond with principles. Imagine that.' Quatre made a face at him. 'I like being ditzy. It's fun. And I don't think I could carry off the whole intense brooding thing anyway, could I? I'm far too cute for that.' 'You like acting ditzy because you can fool people and then let them see how smart you are,' Trowa corrected. 'Well, that too. I'm sorry. He's away for a few days but I'll talk to him when he gets back.' Great. Now, he had this gorgeous, naked guy in his bed, who was stroking his arm, very gently, from wrist to elbow, and he was expected to wait for days before anything could happen. Fuck. Not, apparently. 'Are you sure you don't want him?' 'Oh, I do,' Quatre said at once. 'I just want to be with you more. He's amazing. Very intelligent and sophisticated and charming. Have you ever met anyone where you just totally seemed to be on the same wavelength? We were able to finish off each other's sentences, and half the time it was like having a conversation with myself, not with a person I hardly knew.' 'That sounds pretty boring.' 'It wasn't. Not at all.' 'What about the physical stuff? Let me guess, he gave you a chaste little kiss on the mouth at the end of the night?' 'It was very romantic. Very sweet.' 'Sweet, yeah. What every man wants.' 'I happen to like sweet, actually.' 'Then maybe he is the one you should be with. I don't do sweet.' Quatre flicked him a provocative little grin. 'I'm sure you could be trained.' 'Huh. I'm the one who does training for a living, remember?' 'You train animals!' 'Same principle. You set the boundaries, reward good behaviour with lots of praise and affection and the occasional treat.' Quatre twinkled at him. 'The treats sound nice. What about bad behaviour?' 'I prefer to ignore it, if possible. Focus on positive reinforcement.' 'I don't like being ignored.' Oh, great, now those eminently kissable lips were pouting up at him. 'Can we snuggle?' 'You didn't want to do anything a few minutes ago.' 'Snuggling doesn't automatically mean sex!' Those big, blue eyes gazed winningly up at him. 'Please.' Snuggle. Fabulous. What the hell was he doing with this one? Oh, yeah. Duo wanted it. 'Come here, you spoilt brat.' 'That's lovely,' Quatre sighed dreamily. 'I could stay like this all day.' 'I couldn't.' He let his hands roam over that lovely, supple body, taking his own sweet time about it, and liking the way the blond moaned when he found a sensitive spot. OK, that obviously fell within the parameters of whatever he thought snuggling was. He didn't object to being kissed either, or to the odd nip. Time to move this snuggling thing up a notch. Quatre didn't complain when Trowa shifted over on top of him. Not in the least; reaching both arms up to pull him closer. So much for all that macho posturing about how he liked being a top. Yeah, right. The cute little control freak was clearly desperate for someone to bend him over and nail his lovely ass to the floor. There'd be time for that, though. Instead, Trowa spat on one palm and curved it between Quatre's legs. 'Trowa! What are you doing?' 'Snuggling your sweet cock. I thought that was kind of obvious.' 'Oh.' It came out as a long, quavering cry, which had possibly started out as some kind of a protest, but melted into a needy, greedy moan when Trowa applied just a bit of pressure and then started to move his hand. He was quite the passionate little thing, once he got going, his whole body arching up into Trowa's grip, and biting his shoulder. He was a screamer too, which was fine in Trowa's house, but made him wonder what Quatre's neighbours thought. It was good and just got better when he reached up to take Trowa's arousal and after a blissful minute of that, they were kissing voraciously and there was all kinds of full body contact going on; one of Quatre's hands plucking at one of his nipples, and all that warm, silky skin rubbing against him, and then that perfect, perfect feeling of their two cocks moving against each other. The best sex Trowa had had since he couldn't remember when. And there hadn't even been any actual penetration. And Quatre was looking up at him with the most gorgeous, replete, happy smile, and Trowa's cum on his skin, and a couple of marks on his neck where Trowa had sucked a little bit too enthusiastically. 'Now, you're going to have to change the sheets.' 'That's it?' Trowa demanded, not quite sure whether he was amused or angry. It wouldn't exactly have killed Quatre to be a bit more forthcoming. 'That's all I get? Do the fucking laundry.' 'Oh, Trowa. You're such an idiot.' He gave a dreamy, drowsy sigh and immediately fell asleep. Charming. Trowa didn't change the sheets; it wouldn't kill Quatre to lie in a wet spot. It wasn't like he'd drown or catch pneumonia or something. By the time he'd let the animals out, and fed them, and put the kettle on, he was grinning. It was just Quatre; he was being the needy one, looking for reassurance, and it had been pretty damn obvious that the blond had enjoyed himself. Anyway, he couldn't have stayed angry once he saw Quatre sprawled in his bed. It was going to be pretty damn hard to stay angry with Quatre, period. He set the tray on the floor and shook the blond gently. 'Hey. Can you wake up? I've got breakfast.' Quatre turned over. 'Hmmm?' 'Breakfast. You know, food you eat in the morning. Hot beverage.' 'Oh, goody! I'm starving!' Quatre chirped, sitting up and propping pillows behind him, but not acting like it was anyway unusual for him to get breakfast in bed. Trowa didn't think he'd ever done it for anyone before; Duo, maybe, if he'd been sick or injured. He took a sip from the mug Trowa handed him, and then smiled. 'How did you know my favourite tea?' 'Duo told me.' Because he'd asked, obviously. 'That's so sweet.' Quatre took another sip, and then reached for the stack of buttered toast. 'Were you expecting I'd stay the night then?' 'They said in the shop that I could get a refund if the package wasn't opened.' Trowa shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast before the blond could eat it all. 'I don't know how you drink that stuff. It smells like silage.' Quatre's dainty little nose gave a very un-dainty sniff. 'I have no idea what silage smells like, I'm glad to say. But this is delicious, and very healthy. For a vegetarian, you don't take very good of what you eat.' 'I'm a vegetarian because I don't like eating dead animals.' 'Protein is important,' Quatre argued back. God, he could never just let something go, could he? It was all the Gospel according to Quatre Winner. Trowa would probably end up strangling him at some point. They were both silent for a few minutes, Quatre devoting himself to his food, and Trowa watching him. 'What would you like to do now?' OK, he hadn't meant to ask that. He'd meant to play it cool and let Quatre do the running. But Quatre was obviously the one in control, lounging in Trowa's bed like he belonged there, like he owned the damn place. The weird thing was, it didn't feel awkward. Normally, he couldn't wait to get rid of guys the next morning; he had a whole box of excuses neatly stored in his head. Letting Kurt move in, even temporarily, had been a huge mistake, and only reinforced the feeling that he was better off alone. He didn't want Quatre to leave. 'I'd love to have a shower actually.' The naked, lovely blond in his bed wrinkled his nose fastidiously. 'Next time, maybe you'd like to stay the night with me? I have a huge corner bathtub.' Next time. Trowa supposed that it was official, then. The two of them. Quatre seemed to think so anyway. 'I bet you like taking long bubble baths, right? With all sorts of scented lotions and stuff? And candles?' 'Oh, yes.' Quatre's eyes narrowed at him. 'You have homemade tofu in your fridge, and a bumper bag of pink marshmallows. And chocolate milk in little cartons with cartoon characters on them. You don't get to take jabs at me for not being manly, Barton.' 'Sorry, sorry.' Trowa held his hands up grinning. 'Point taken. So you want a shower. Do you have stuff to do today or can you stay for a bit?' 'Are you going to be nice to me?' Quatre gave him one of those coy little glances, blue eyes glinting under his lashes. 'Maybe. You'll have to stay if you want to find out.' 'Hmm. I'm supposed to be having lunch with my parents.' For one God-awful moment, he thought Quatre would invite him along to meet them. 'But I could cancel. If I got a better offer.' 'It's a lovely day out. We could take the horses and go for a ride. Bring something to eat and stay out for a few hours. I can show you a couple of places where herons are nesting. How would that be?' 'It sounds wonderful.' He sounded pretty sincere about that. 'I'm looking after Laragh tonight so I do have to be at the gallery at five to pick up Duo's keys. I'm free until then, though.' 'Cool.' Trowa took the empty plate away, feeling oddly happy. He'd known about the dog-sitting, actually. It had one of Duo's less subtle – assuming that subtlety could be graded in a non-existent situation – attempts to get them together; asking them seperately to look after Laragh. Quatre was a smart guy, so he'd presumably copped on as well, which presumably meant that he'd wanted to spend that time with Trowa. Right. He was grinning as he slid back into the bed beside Quatre. So he rated above a luncheon date with the parents, but below a promise to dog-sit. Well, fair enough. And he still had Quatre to himself for most of the day. ~ * ~ |
