by Anne Olsen
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any broken bones or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.Thanks: To Raletha, Bast and Lorena for their beta reading comments. Appreciate the support, guys.
Comments to: anneo@paradise.net.nz
It didn't matter how often I gazed out at the rain drizzled harbour from my apartment window, I never tired of the scene. The fog had lifted mere moments before to reveal a calm sea bathed in the red glow of dusk.
Red at night, shepherd's delight.
Or was it sailor's delight? A part of me wished that, this time, the old saying would prove incorrect. Call me crazy but I enjoy standing out in the rain with the water caressing my cheek and the wind whipping through my jumper [1] to chill me to the bone. There's something to be said about being this close to nature and one of the draw cards of this city; it offers the opportunity to be a part of both worlds.
I pressed my face against the glass; with adulthood had come responsibility and the expectation that one should behave with some degree of decorum. It was fortunate that my business associates, and in particularly my father, couldn't see what I was about to do.
The lure of the rain was something I hadn't given in to in years. I took a moment to pause at the front door of my apartment and contemplate my coat. It was warm, totally waterproof and would provide protection from the bitter wind. Naturally, I had no intention of wearing it. I chuckled as I let the door bang shut behind me, glancing around before I high-fived the air and skipped towards the heavy double doors at the end of the corridor.
What had prompted this lapse in common sense? I should have been tired today; crawling up the flight of stairs between Trowa's floor and mine to arrive home at 5am hadn't left much time for sleeping. Even then I'd been too wired to settle, instead choosing to watch the dawn arrive with one hand wrapped around a cup of coffee, the other stroking my cat, Dax, as she stretched contentedly across my lap.
It had amazed me how quickly Trowa and I had connected. Romance was dead and my last failed relationship had left me hesitant to put myself at risk again. I'm not sure what had prompted me to approach Trowa at the pub the previous evening; as I'd told him, I'm usually not that forward. Yet there was something about him, something familiar. My sister would have called it a meeting of spirits, a recognition of souls. But she's a hopeless romantic; it's no surprise why, considering the number of romance novels she reads. Her ability to rattle off quotes from the high brow literature she indulges in scares me, but not as much as her threats to write one of her own. I know her well enough to know what the plot would entail - a gay romance with me in the starring role.
I slowed as I took the stairs one at a time. The concrete was wet; it would be easy to slip. My sense of caution wasn't as asleep as I'd thought. Of course I could always land with a thump one landing down, only to be discovered by…
Ensuring I had a firm grip on the railing, my pace slowed further as I attempted to rationalise my thoughts. It was more likely that I'd be discovered by a little old lady, or worse still, by apartment security. And I'd had the nerve to tease Iria about her dreams of knights in shining armour.
But then she has always been a hopeless romantic at heart.
I used to be, but not now. At least I wasn't.
Wasn't?
I'm still not a hopeless romantic.
Well…not hopeless. Hopeful.
There's a difference.
And I wasn't laughing. I was smiling. There's a difference.
Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, I smiled at the memory of Trowa's words the night before. He had a wonderful smile and his laugh, once he'd gotten over his initial shyness, had sent fingers of anticipation down my spine. I'd hidden my blush by wandering over to the window to compare the view from his apartment with that of my own.
Even before feeling his breath warm against my neck, I'd known he'd crossed the distance between us to stand behind me. How he managed to survive the winter in this cold hole was beyond me. Coming from the much more civilised climate across the Tasman, these temperatures had taken some getting used to. I was aware that I probably burned more electricity keeping warm than the rest of the building put together but I didn't care. What was the point of having a decent income only to freeze one's butt off through the winter?
The memory of Trowa bending to retrieve our coffee cups had helpfully replayed through my mind and I'd mumbled something under my breath about the view.
"The view is breathtaking," he'd agreed before bringing his arms to wrap around my waist.
I must have tensed because he pulled away. I turned in time to see his cheeks change colour to match my own. "It's okay," I said, capturing one of his hands between mine in an attempt to reassure him that I'd only reacted because he'd caught me by surprise. Placing my lips against one slender knuckle, I kissed him gently.
The echo of a solo tugboat horn had shattered the silence between us.
Pressing on the electronic lock, and waiting for the telltale click to tell me that the door was unlatched, I heard that same horn, but this time it merged with the cackling of the gulls silhouetted against the rapidly darkening sky.
Rain and wind work together in this city, successful in their preordained task of keeping all but the foolhardy inside where warmth beckons. For a Saturday night the pier was deserted and the Lynx [2] wasn't due to dock for another few hours. Drapes were drawn across the windows facing the harbour in an attempt to capture warmth on a chilly winter evening. The soft glow of lights was barely visible; most of the occupants would be too busy preparing their evening meal to concern themselves with the outside world.
I could have danced naked and no one would have noticed.
But even I am not that uninhibited or crazy. If I thought there was any chance of being observed, I'd be watching this lonely pier from the safety of my apartment, maybe opening the window to sample, but not daring enough to feast in the manner I craved.
One last glance served to reassure me that I was indeed alone. Closing the final distance between the car park and the edge of the pier, I positioned myself securely against one of the wooden poles, surrendered my glasses to the safety of my jeans' pocket, and opened my arms to the elements.
It was exhilarating. I lost track of time as, closing my eyes, I let myself be. Nothing mattered. I wasn't Quatre Raberba Winner - and yet I was. Wind buffeting against me, the bottom of my jumper billowed in the gale, giving entrance to the cold fingers of ice hammering over me and through me.
A touch on my shoulder forced me back to reality and I turned to glare at whoever had dared to interrupt.
"Are you okay?" It was difficult to tell whether the look on Trowa's face mirrored concern or disbelief.
"More than okay." My glare quickly changed to a grin. I tugged at Trowa's sleeve, motioning him to take in the scene in front of us. "Isn't it wonderful?
"It's cold, windy, and you're wet."
I blew him a raspberry and rolled my eyes in mock disgust. "And you call yourself a writer! Where's your sense of adventure?"
"It left for a warmer climate." The corners of Trowa's mouth twitched. "Just how much can you see without those glasses anyway?"
"Enough," I smirked, tracing the outline of his lips. His breath was hot against my finger. "I'm short-sighted; it's only distance I have problems with."
"So there's no danger of you falling flat on your face on the way back to your apartment then?" Trowa matched my smirk. "So much for my idea of offering my services as a guide dog."
My face flamed. He chuckled and kissed my finger. "For someone who doesn't do cute, that was a damn good facsimile."
"I'd say thank you but I have the feeling it would only encourage you."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No," I whispered. Suddenly aware of the cold, I shivered.
"Quatre, you're soaked." He brought his arms up to encircle me, his heartbeat accelerating in accompaniment to my own.
But before I could snuggle into his warmth, he pulled away. His eyes were questioning, asking permission. "Quatre…."
"Cat," I corrected.
"Cat, I don't want to do anything you aren't okay with." He hesitated. "Do you mind if...?"
Grasping both of his hands in my own, I placed them around my waist. "I told you last night that it was okay. You don't have to ask my permission to hug, Trowa." I smiled. "Though I do appreciate the gesture." Sweet, attentive and gorgeous; I found it amazing that Trowa hadn't already been snatched up by someone else. It was their loss, and definitely my gain. Maybe, the romantic in me whispered, he's been waiting for me.
Had the weird feelings of anticipation I'd tried to ignore upon my arrival in Wellington over a month ago been Trowa related? I mentally snorted, not about to add fuel to my sister's theory. Just because I could 'read' people and often anticipated questions before they were asked didn't mean I was psychic. No, it merely proved that I was observant and took the time to listen. It was an ability neither my father nor ex lover had taken the time to learn.
Trowa understood about the importance of listening. Remembering my reaction, he'd asked my permission, and then waited for my response. He didn't presume to know my preferences and desires. I leaned into his strong embrace, allowing the spice of his aftershave to blend with that of the sea. The wind howled around us but I didn't care. Trowa's presence offered me an anchor, a previously elusive calm in the centre of the storm. Before I had been content to just be. Now I wanted more.
Lips brushed against mine then withdrew. "You still taste like the sea," he said, breaking the kiss before leaning in to sample again. After last night it would have been surprising if he'd stopped to ask permission for this.
He explored my mouth with his tongue and I shuddered in pleasure. His hands shifted to grip my bottom, using the action to pull us closer. I stroked his hair with my fingers, moaning as the kiss deepened. It was wet, sensual, and full of unspoken desire.
The heavens opened and the light drizzle turned into a downpour.
Neither of us moved.
Silver white highlighted the sky before surrendering to darkness, the low rumble that followed closely behind a foreboding of the coming storm.
The rain eased back into an infrequent patter but only offered a brief respite. Announcing its arrival with the salt and wildness from the sea, the southerly wind was a reminder that nature wasn't about to give up in her attempt to take back that part of the city that had once been rightfully hers.
"Cat," Trowa mumbled between kisses, "we need to go." His commonsense had a lousy sense of timing.
"We do?" I ran my tongue over his lips, savouring the shared droplets of rainwater as I reluctantly withdrew. They were warm, salty and tasted of Trowa; an ambrosia promising more than we were able to pursue under the exposure of the stars. A stubborn trickle began a journey down the tip of his nose and leaning in again, I licked it off, tracing its path in a deliberate slowness. "Yes, we do," I agreed, but made no attempt to move.
"You're still wet." Trowa reminded me. "I, on the other hand, have discovered a marvellous piece of clothing called a raincoat."
"Oh I have one of those," I deadpanned. "But where's the fun in wearing it on a night like this?"
"Obviously my sense of adventure isn't as finely honed as yours."
"Yet." I answered before I could stop myself. "Umm, Trowa…"
"Yes?" While shifting his hands from my buttocks, Trowa spun me so that we were both facing towards the sanctuary of the apartment building. After I nodded my agreement, he slipped one arm around my waist and we began walking.
"I'm usually not this forward on the second date either." I glanced sideways at him in an attempt to gauge his reaction.
He laughed. "Don't worry, neither am I." The grip around my waist loosened and his footsteps stilled. Swinging us around so that we faced each other, one hand stroked my cheek while he fixed me with a gaze I couldn't have broken even if I'd wanted to. "I haven't connected with anyone like this in a long time, Quatre." He glanced down at the ground before meeting my eyes again. "To be honest, I've never connected with anyone like this before. I don't want you to think I'd…"
"I don't, I wouldn't, and I feel the same way." If Trowa was prepared to trust me enough to bare a part of his soul it was only right that I do the same. "I need to get myself cleaned up, but I'd really like it if you'd stay for a while."
"I was hoping to, thanks."
I offered my hand, smiling when he took it and squeezed. "My apartment's warmer," I teased. "I don't know how you survive that arctic wasteland of yours."
"It's a gift." We walked in silence for a moment before Trowa spoke again. "Maybe it's time I bought a new heater."
"You're more than welcome to share my warmth until you do." I groped inside my jeans pocket for my pass card. "God, I'm sorry, Trowa. I don't believe I just said that. I didn't mean it to sound the way it did. Well I did, but I didn't want you to think…" Digging myself deeper into the hole, I cursed my tendency to babble when I became flustered.
Trowa chuckled. "I quite liked the way it sounded, actually." He retrieved the card from me, used it to open the door, and bowed. "After you, Mr Winner."
"Why thank you, Mr Barton. You're the perfect gentleman."
"Oh God, I hope not." He paused. "Cat, you're dripping on the floor. Come on, we need to get you into a hot shower."
"We?"
"You." He ushered me up the stairs, giving me a playful whack on the backside with his hand. "I'm going to show off my wonderful tea making skills. You do have tea?"
"Tea, coffee, hot chocolate. Take your pick."
Upon entering my apartment, I gestured in the direction of the kitchen. "The tea's in the pantry, first cupboard on the left. Make yourself at home, I won't be long."
A familiar shape rushed towards me, skidding to a halt as she suspiciously eyed up the stranger in her home. "Dax," I scolded. "This is Trowa. Be nice." The cat, having finished her examination, proceeded to rub up against Trowa's legs. "Trowa, meet Dax." I started towards the stairs. "If you need something just yell."
"No problem," Trowa nodded. "Take your time." He bent to rub Dax between the ears and she purred her thanks. I'd only had her a short time, but she was already fiercely protective of her territory and not usually so accepting of strangers; this boded very well for the future.
It took longer than I expected to peel off my wet clothing; even my underwear was unpleasantly damp. Waiting for the shower to heat I examined myself in the floor to ceiling mirror; my mild erection wasn't a surprise. My mind wandered onto Trowa making tea downstairs and I wondered if I'd been less than the perfect host regarding my negligence in offering to share my shower.
In offering to share my shower after I'd finished with it. That was what I'd meant. Wasn't it? Stepping under the welcome hot water, I lathered my body with soap and let my hands move slowly over my skin. Closing my eyes, it was so easy to imagine him in here with me, his fingers exploring, caressing, his breath mixing with the steam as he leaned in closer.
I gasped in pleasure.
"Quatre, are you okay in here?" Trowa's voice came from the door and my eyes snapped open, my heart racing at the thought that maybe, somehow, I'd been caught by the person I'd been fantasising about.
"I'm…I'm fine, Trowa. Nearly finished." Increasing the shower speed I washed off the soap quickly and reached out for my towel, only to find it wasn't there. I raised my voice. "Trowa? Trowa are you still there?"
"I'm still here."
"I've umm…" How could I word this without making it sound as though I was attempting to lure him into the bathroom? "I've forgotten to grab a towel."
"A towel?" I could hear the amusement in his voice. "Don't you keep your towels in the bathroom? I do."
"Er, no. I keep them in the hall cupboard by the hot water cylinder. I don't suppose...?"
"Hang on." I peered though the steam to be met by a very red faced Trowa. "I thought…oh God…your shower doors are transparent." Trowa dropped the towels at the foot of the cubicle and began to back away.
A small portion of my mind registered the fact that he hadn't turned his back on me and that his gaze wasn't focused on my face but towards something somewhat lower. I opened the shower door, snaked my arm out and grabbed him, pulling him under the water with me.
"Quatre, what the hell are you..?" I silenced him with a kiss. He answered me by circling one of my nipples with his finger.
We broke apart, our breathing ragged as he backed up against the door of the shower cubicle and examined me. "You're gorgeous," he whispered.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't plan…it just happened. If you want to leave I'll understand." If you don't want to see me again, I'll understand. One of the reasons I'd broken up with Daryl had been because of his tendency to act first and ask my permission later, and here was I doing the same thing. What the hell had gotten into me?
"I don't want to leave, Cat. I'd like to…see where this leads." Oh, I knew where it would lead. I knew where I wanted it to lead.
But I couldn't presume; I had to be sure it was what we both wanted. "Do you…I want…I'm hoping…." Oh, for God's sake, I'd pulled him into the shower. I was standing naked in front of him with everything on display. My cock twitched in anticipation and I cursed my lack of control. It was far too late for the coy act. "I want to have sex with you, Trowa."
"So do I – have sex with you, I mean, but I think I'm overdressed," Trowa raised his arms above his head and waited. I shook myself out of my lust-induced daze; he was inviting me to undress him. He'd said yes.
The jumper landed on the bathroom floor and we both fumbled with his shirt buttons. "Thermal underwear?" I couldn't help but laugh at what was underneath.
He shrugged. "I live in an arctic wasteland, remember?" The thermal singlet joined the growing pile outside the door and I concentrated on his belt buckle and fly. My fingers brushed the bulge in his trousers; he was as aroused as I was.
Making sure I took my time in edging down his clinging black boxers; I followed the trail of every exposed inch with my tongue. The moan escaping his lips, as I alternated between licking and caressing his skin with feather kisses, sent a shiver of anticipation through me.
That was until the boxers refused to go any further.
"Cat…I can't…I think my trousers are stuck."
"Stuck?" I frowned, knowing I should be attempting to focus, but it was difficult to convince my hormones that this required my full attention.
"They're wet." Well of course they were wet, we were in the shower. I stared at him and grinned like an idiot. "I need to get them off," he said.
"Of course you do," I agreed. Eager to help, I placed one hand on either side of his waistband but he pushed me away and backed towards the shower door.
"Trowa?" I couldn't keep the hurt and confusion out of my voice. He'd wanted this. He still wanted this. Didn't he?
Upon reaching his cheek, the water dripping from his hair slowed to a trickle. His tongue darted out to catch the excess moisture and he licked his lips slowly before speaking again. "It'll be quicker if I do it alone." Trowa smiled and my fear melted. Using the closed door to support himself while, with an excruciating slowness, he slid his skin-tight trousers down the rest of the way.
"I thought you said it would be faster without my help." Taking a step towards him, I pretended to pout. "At least let me take off your shoes and socks while…" I bent down and stopped mid sentence. "Trowa, where are your shoes and socks?"
"Umm…oops?
"Oops?" I didn't bother to hide the amusement in my voice when my mind finally decided to start functioning. "Your apartment is identical to mine! You knew that the shower door was transparent but you still came in with the towels."
A final tug and Trowa stepped out of his trousers. "I did?"
"You already had your shoes and socks off when I pulled you in here." I tapped my foot and attempted to look indignant, no mean accomplishment considering I was naked and soaking wet.
"I did?" He opened the shower door, flung his trousers out and shut it again. Unable to resist the temptation I closed the distance between us.
"So," I purred, rubbing my erection across the smooth skin, while bringing my hand up and around his lean muscled chest. "Was the view worth it?"
He leaned back into my touch and tightening my grip on him, I pulled us under the warm water. He responded by taking another step back so that I was pinned behind him, against the wall. Twisting his body around so that we were facing, he used one hand to capture both of mine above my head. "Definitely worth it," he murmured, before bringing his lips down to meet mine.
The kiss was wet and hot, his tongue exploring my mouth at a languid pace while the fingers of his free hand fondled the tip of my ear. I squirmed, trying to free myself from his grip. I wanted to touch him, to glide my fingers across that wet chest, to rub myself up against him. I moaned in frustration.
Breaking the kiss, Trowa met my gaze. "Are you okay with this?" he asked. "I can stop if you aren't."
I thrust my hips towards his and he gasped as our erections collided. I wriggled a bit more, bringing one leg in between his to rub against his testicles. "I could do a lot more with my hands free," I complained.
Trowa loosened his grip instantly and I couldn't help but grin. "So you like that?" I asked, bringing my hands down to rest on his chest. Twirling one brown nub between my fingers, I squeezed gently and then captured it with my lips. After running my tongue around it, I suckled while still stimulating his genitals with my thigh.
"Oh God, Cat." I took his response to mean a very definite yes.
A light touch on my penis sent a shiver of pleasure through me. Trowa's fingers danced down the length of my shaft, and I hissed my approval. We pressed our bodies closer together; I wanted to rub myself against every inch of him, inside and out. I trailed my mouth across to his other nipple, nibbling and licking as I went. He tasted like cinnamon and vanilla, his skin hot and slippery under my touch.
I wanted to be inside him. And I wanted it yesterday.
"Trowa…stop."
Fingers stilling, his voice was full of concern when he spoke. "Is something wrong? Was I doing something wrong?"
"No, no," I replied quickly. "It was wonderful, you're wonderful. I just…" I gave him a quick reassuring hug. "If we want to go any further we're going to need…the lube's in the bedroom."
Trowa leaned over me and turned off the shower. "The hot water's not going to last much longer anyway." Opening the shower door he retrieved the towels he'd dropped when I'd distracted him earlier. He handed one to me and took the other and we dried ourselves quickly. I hung them up when we'd finished, taking the opportunity to feast my gaze on Trowa's beautifully proportioned body. His hair was sticking up at an even odder angle than before and I wondered how much hair gel he used to keep it under control. I could lose myself just in those depths of green; letting my gaze fall below his trim waist, I sighed in anticipation.
"What?" I asked when he chuckled.
"I'm wondering if you're using the same bedroom I am," he explained. "This is weird; it's so like my apartment and yet it isn't."
Having felt the same weird déjà vu the night before, I nodded. "It's the one at the end of the hallway." I grinned, holding out my hand in invitation. His grip was firm and warm to the touch. "I'm using the smaller one as an office."
"So am I." He rubbed his thumb against the back of my hand, as I led him towards my bedroom. Telling him to make use of the warmth of the blankets, I began rummaging through my bedside cabinet.
The tube wasn't hard to find; I'm not sure why I'd even bought it or the packet of condoms. After I'd thrown Daryl out and moved over here, I hadn't wanted to even contemplate another relationship. I dropped the tube on the bed, and, a little more hesitantly, the packet of condoms.
"Better to be safe than sorry," I blurted out without thinking.
"I'm clean," Trowa said, "but I don't mind if you'd feel happier playing it safe." He fidgeted with the tube of lube between his fingers. "I'm…umm, you're my first."
"You've never done this before?" I raised an eyebrow. He certainly hadn't seemed inexperienced; in all my time with Daryl I'd never been so turned on so totally or so quickly.
"Not with anyone else, no. I've read a lot though and umm, experimented."
"I broke up with my partner a few months ago," I admitted. Trusting Trowa enough to give myself to him during intercourse meant trusting him enough to tell him why I was insisting on using protection. "It wasn't…good." I lowered my eyes. "I threw him out after I found out he'd been cheating on me."
Trowa pulled back the covers and patted the mattress next to him. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." After I slid in beside him he gave me a hug. "He sounds like a real arsehole."
"He was," I agreed. "The stupid thing is that it took something like that for me to realise it. I wasted two years of my life on that prick." I didn't add that Daryl's eye had only started roving after he realised I wasn't prepared to keep playing doormat to a control freak. He'd wanted a possession rather than an equal, and coming home from work early to find him in bed with someone else had been the last straw.
Lips caressed my brow before Trowa spoke softly. "You can trust me, Cat. I wouldn't expect you to sleep with someone you didn't trust."
"I trust you, Trowa." Damn Daryl and his inability to keep it in his pants. "I…I've been tested and I'm okay, but I want to play it safe until I get past the six month window. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be expecting you to deal with all my baggage."
"It's okay," Trowa said. "I want you and I trust you. If you come with baggage, we'll deal with that baggage together. I'm not interested in just a fling." He smiled and I couldn't help but return it. "I wouldn't be here if I were."
"I'm not interested in just a fling, either," I told him. "It's too early for me to know for sure if this is love; I need to get to know you better first." I squeezed his hand. "But I'm hoping it will grow from here."
"So am I."
"This is the first time I've been in naked in bed with another guy and just talked." I laughed. "But as much as I've enjoyed it and want to do it again…"
"Yes?"
Retrieving the packet of condoms from where he'd left him lying in his lap, I waved them playfully in the air. He snatched them off me, rolled us over and kissed me. "Trowa? I thought I explained…"
His hand traced the length of my torso before coming to rest across my navel. Extending his tongue he curled it before dipping it in and around the tiny hollow. I gasped and bucked my hips.
"Hmm, I always wondered what that would do." Trowa motioned me to stay on my back and pulled himself into a squatting position. "Umm, Cat?"
"What?" I motioned towards the packet of condoms. "Trowa, we have to…please…"
"You trust me, right?" I nodded and he continued. "I think we'll be okay as long as you're wearing a condom, and…" Trowa stroked my cock with his fingers and I moaned. "Just let me do this, okay?" he asked before reaching over to take a rolled up condom out of the packet. Undoing the lube with his other hand he squeezed some into the condom and waited until it reached the tip. The implication of what he was doing sent a shiver of excitement through me. Trowa was thinking about me, and my enjoyment and needs as well as his own. I gripped the sheets underneath me. I wanted him, and I wanted him now.
"Patience is a virtue, Cat," he reminded me before placing the condom between his teeth. He bent over and his mouth disappeared from my line of vision. Something brushed against the head of my cock, and I whimpered. After easing the condom over the tip, Trowa edged it up my shaft slowly. I could feel it rubbing against me, the friction alone was enough to challenge what was left of my self control; the added heat of his lips suckling me through the thin latex threatened to vanquish it completely.
Focusing on the cotton beneath me, smooth against my back, I wriggled up the bed to rest my head on the pillow and took deep even breaths to anchor myself. This was Trowa's first time and I wanted it to be the best experience it could be for both of us.
The pressure on my cock disappeared as Trowa shifted his attention to my testicles. "Oh, god. Trowa, " I gasped as he rolled them between his fingers and then trailed his tongue over me in a circular motion. I'd never been pleasured quite like this before and, just as I was thinking I never wanted it to stop, it did. "Tease," I pouted.
"You're cute when you're horny," Trowa's expression could only be described as smug as he flopped onto the pillow next to me.
I couldn't help but snort. "I've already told you I don't do cute." Placing my hand behind his head I pulled him close for a kiss. "That was fantastic, thank you. No one's ever done anything for me like that before." It was time to see how well he did cute in private.
Giving Trowa a playful push to roll him over onto his back, I scooted down the bed and pulled myself into a kneeling position. I grinned at his intake of breath as I ran my fingers through the nest of curls just below his navel. It would be interesting to see just how good his self control was in comparison to my own. Bending down I deliberately mimicked his earlier action and explored his navel with my tongue. His hips jerked and I smirked.
"Tease," he growled.
"I prefer the term brat, myself," I looked up to note with satisfaction the way his eyes were beginning to glaze over. After one final taste of his navel, I marked a wet trail down past his pelvis and toward his inner thigh. At various intervals I took care to stop, nibble, and then kiss the red mark I'd left before moving on. Reaching my destination, I cupped his testicles in my hand, then, replacing my fingers with my mouth, I alternated between licking and suckling.
"Patience is a virtue, Trowa," I reminded him, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him with his own words.
"Brat." The word was followed by a sharp intake of breath as I shifted my attention to his erection.
"Just returning the favour," I murmured before slowly drawing his cock into my mouth. Running my tongue over the liquid already seeping from the tip, I swallowed the droplets as they reached the back of my throat. The action pulled his penis in still further and he gasped.
Gently guiding his length with my tongue, I made sure that it brushed against the sides of my mouth as I eased it out again. The popping noise as it left my lips sent a renewed sense of excitement through me.
"Trowa?" I shifted my right knee, wriggled back up the bed and brushed my fingers across his cheek to get his attention.
"Hmm?" Trowa smiled. "That was…I can't even begin to describe it. Thank you." He pulled me down for a lingering kiss; I wanted to give him more, to take him to heights he'd only imagined.
"We need to…I want…"
"I…could you take me, Quatre? I want to feel you…"
"I'll be as gentle as I can," I told him. "The first time can be…" I still remembered my first time – even though it had been good the sensation had been disconcerting until I'd got used to it.
"It's okay." He stroked my hair. "Just tell me where you want me."
I couldn't help but chuckle at his choice of words. "Could you roll over onto your side? I think it will be easier this way."
"Okay. Do you want me facing you or? "
"Away, I think." I wanted to hold him in my arms and be able to whisper reassurances to him as I entered him. In all my time with Daryl we'd had sex but never made love; Trowa had already shown me very clearly the difference between the two.
While Trowa rolled over I hunted through the bedclothes for the lube, eventually finding it tucked under one of the pillows. Squeezing a generous portion onto my finger I smeared it over his entrance and then applied it liberally to my shaft. I could feel each even stroke through the fine latex layer and I took several deep breaths to calm myself.
"We could swap places if you'd prefer."
"No, it's fine. I want this, I want you, Quatre." Even with the repeated reassurances he couldn't hide his nervousness. I brushed his opening with my hand and he tensed. "I guess research doesn't really prepare you for the real thing," he joked.
"It might feel a bit weird at first, but it shouldn't hurt. If it does let me know immediately and I'll stop." I trailed a row of kisses down his spine to distract him while I massaged his opening with my thumb. Once I felt him relax I replaced the thumb with a finger and slipped it through the tight circle of muscle. "Okay?"
Trowa nodded. "Keep going. Please."
Snuggling in closer, I added another finger to the first. "Almost there," I whispered, removing the fingers I'd been using to stretch him, and positioning my penis at his anus.
I eased myself into him a little at a time, moving slowly to give his body a chance to accept the intrusion. Sliding my now free hand out from between us, I wrapped my arm around his chest and pulled him closer. His fingers interlinked with my own, and I squeezed his hand.
"Keep going," he grunted. "It feels a bit strange, but it's fine."
Pushing in still further, his muscles tensed around me. "It's okay," I whispered, brushing my lips along his shoulders, "just relax and let yourself get used to it."
"Sorry, I guess I'm a bit nervous."
"Just relax," I repeated, "and don't apologise." Shifting my position slightly I began moving again slowly, out and then in.
"That feels…" Trowa's breath hitched and I could feel his heartbeat accelerate under my hand. "Can you go faster? Please."
I didn't answer him in words, but instead withdrew, and plunged back into again – in and out, increasing my tempo as I brought the hand I'd laid across his chest down to encircle his erection. I drew a wavy line down his shaft with my fingers, sliding them up and down slowly and then gradually matching my speed to that of my thrusts. He was hot, our bodies slippery with perspiration as I rubbed myself against him inside and out.
His hips bucked, the sudden movement plunging me deeper into him. "Want you. Quatre," he panted. "Oh, god." I stroked the spot I'd been searching for; his body tightened around me, his arm snaking behind to grab at my buttocks.
Strengthening my grasp on his cock, I pumped him faster and faster, our bodies moving together in tandem. I wasn't sure if I was leading or following; I gasped his name, my mouth nuzzling his neck, the friction against my cock driving me closer and closer to the edge.
One more thrust and my world exploded into wet slippery heat. I could feel him around me, through me; for a brief instant something touched me inside, a sensation so strong, so tangible that the boundaries between reality and desire merged in that moment.
I opened my eyes, suddenly aware that I'd crossed the rapids and come out the other side. My hand was wet and sticky, Trowa's cock still twitching as he collapsed back against me.
"That was…nothing could have prepared me for that."
"I've had good sex before," I hesitated, unsure of how to describe it, "but never anything like that."
"Never?"
I brushed my lips against the nape of his neck. "Never," I whispered.
"I…that was fantastic." Trowa sounded as though he was in awe.
"Fantastic mind blowing sex," I agreed. "You can't beat it, so might as well enjoy it."
Trowa laughed. "I could get used to your weird sense of humour."
"Oh I hope so," I kissed him again. "Umm, Trowa?"
"Yeah?"
"For a guy with such a slim body you weigh a ton." As much as I would have liked to stay like this for longer, it wasn't practical. "We need to clean up, and I can't while I'm still stuck up your arse."
"I thought you liked it up there." Trowa shifted off me so that I could pull out. "I know I definitely did." He glanced down at the mess over his stomach. "Liked you up there, I mean."
"I can see that," I slid off the bed. "I'll go grab a washcloth." Pausing at the bedroom door, I glanced back towards the bed. Trowa met my gaze and smiled. I could lose myself in that smile, just as easily as I'd been able to lose myself in him. "I won't be long," I promised.
When I returned he was propped up on one elbow, watching the night sky. "The storm's gone," he told me as I busied myself cleaning him up, having already washed myself in the bathroom.
Earlier that evening I'd needed the rain and wind of that storm; but that desire had been washed away by one of a different kind.
"I know." I replied, rummaging through my drawers. "Here," I gave him a sheepish grin as I threw him a pair of boxers. "I think these should fit you, and you can borrow my bathrobe until your clothes dry." I gave a mock sigh. "I guess you're stuck with my company for the evening."
"Hmm. Of course I could always sneak through the corridors half clothed. That option does have a certain appeal to it."
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "What if I included pizza and a movie? Would that sway the vote in my favour?"
"Maybe," Trowa pretended to weight up his options, "if you also included snuggling on the sofa?"
"Can I think about it?" I dodged a pillow, before settling myself down on the bed next to him. "Trowa?"
"Hmmm?" He nuzzled my neck and pulled me closer.
I yawned. "How about snuggling here first, and worrying about the pizza later?"
"Sounds good to me." One arm reached out for the blankets. "Cat?"
"Hmmm?" I rested my head on his chest and cuddled up against him. He was warm and comfortable and I had no intention of moving.
"Remember I said that my sense of adventure had left for a warmer climate?"
"Uh huh," I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift. A gentle touch brushed my hair from my face and I smiled, burying myself further into his strong, safe embrace.
"I think I've found that warmer climate." Lips caressed my brow as I sighed my contentment and relaxed into sleep. "I've found it here, Quatre. With you."
[1] Jumper is Australian slang for jersey (Kiwi) or sweater (American).
[2] The name given to the fast ferry which crosses Cook Strait, the stretch of water separating the North and South Islands of New Zealand.
