Disclaimer: We don't own Gundam Wing. We are just borrowing them for a bit.
Pairings: 4x3/3+4 (sort of a mixture really.)
Warnings: lemon, yet another drunken Gundam pilot.
Notes: This is the sequel to "Pina Colada" that was requested. You guys all know the "Tequila" song right? Good, because then we won't have to put a quote from the song here -- how could we, anyway, it's a one-word song!
TEQUILA!
By: Ketsurui (Ketoru) and Quoth the Raven (Torowa)
Email: MakuraKetsurui@aol.com
Website: http://anrui.homestead.com/main.html
***********************
"Remember, Quatre," Trowa warned as they stepped into the brightly decorated room in Duo and Heero's house. Everyone had been invited to Hilde's big birthday bash, and from the looks of things Duo and Heero had really gone all out for this event, since Hilde and Duo were like brother and sister.
"I know, I know," grumbled Quatre. "I'm not going to let Duo talk me into drinking again, Trowa. Believe me, that other time was more than enough for me to decide that on my own. It's bad enough that everybody here remembers what I did except me!"
"I know you'll be careful, love. Just watch it, Duo might try to give you something else that you don't recognize as alcoholic." Trowa kissed his lover's forehead affectionately, and the blond grinned up at him. "I'll keep an eye on what he does to your drinks, don't worry."
"I'm not worried. I can look out for myself, but I appreciate your concern." Quatre smiled up at Trowa. [Poor Trowa... he had to deal with me with a giant hangover the entire day. I can't blame him for being worried now. But I'm not going to make that mistake again.]
"Well, if it isn't the party animal!" A familiar braided figure bounded up to them, glass of something suspicious looking in hand. "Hi, Trowa, hi, Q-man! Here, I made your favourite especially!" With a wicked grin, he held the drink out to Quatre.
"No thank you, Duo," Quatre said solemnly. "Not for me, tonight. Remember, opera." A genial smile and a steely glint in his eye made Duo pause. He remembered that morning -- Oh lord, what he'd give to forget it. [I HATE opera, the bastards knew that...]
"Oh. You sure?" At Quatre's firm nod, he tried, "Well, maybe a--
"Tea, please." Quatre stated firmly.
"But--"
"Tea please, Duo." Duo saw Trowa's eyes shine silent approval before casting a firm glance his way. He couldn't do anything with tea, and the pair obviously knew it. He sighed. "Okay, desert boy, have your tea. Guess it's the nectar of the gods to you, huh? Here, Trowa, you may as well have this." Casually offering it to Trowa to get rid of it -- it was too sweet-tasting for his own liking -- he felt a pang of disappointment. He'd kind of hoped for another show -- it would have cemented his parties as famous. Not that he would have let Quatre get alcohol poisoning or anything, but he really needed to loosen up, and besides, everyone embarrasses themselves while drunk at least once, it's practically a law!
Trowa shook his head at the proffered drink. "No thanks Duo. I'll have water, please."
Duo stared at him, a bit surprised. "You're sure? I mean, I can understand Q-ball here going cold sober, but you? You just want water?" He was beginning to feel like a lousy host -- you can't just give everyone water and *tea* for godsake! He remembered something. Trowa was very fond of orange juice -- at least that was something! "Look, what about orange juice? We have plenty, don't worry about that." It had originally been meant to be used for mixers, but oh well. At least with Trowa looking like he was drinking mixers, he wouldn't look like such a lousy host. "I'd really hate to look like a stingy host," he added suddenly, realising that Quatre's impeccable manners wouldn't let him refuse after that... and what Quatre did, Trowa did.
Looking at each other, they exchanged nods and Trowa said "All right, Duo. An orange juice for me, and PLAIN TEA for Quatre."
"I'll just ask Hilde to boil the kettle and make your tea, okay? I gotta get the juice from the fridge anyway." Duo turned and headed toward the kitchen, discarding the drink once he got there. "Hilde, Quatre wants some tea. Could you boil the kettle, please?" he asked in his sweetest tone of voice.
Hilde snorted. "You mean, could I boil the kettle, make the tea and take it out to him? Yeah, I'll do that. I don't trust you after what you did to poor Quatre LAST time."
"Hilde!" Duo protested as the girl busied herself at the kettle. "I'm mortally wounded to think that you think that of me! That you believe I deliberately plotted to intoxicate one of my best friends! That I planned his embarrassment simply to enliven a party and as an experiment to observe his behaviour in that state! That --"
"Duo, shut up. I know you. You did. Now I'm going to make that poor boy a cup of tea and you're going to get Trowa what he asked for." Hilde didn't turn around, just calmly continued to make Quatre's tea. "He has sugar, right?"
"I think so... yeah. Okay, one OJ for lion tamer boy coming up!" Shaking some ice into the tall glass, he hunted in the fridge for the open bottle of orange juice among several as yet unopened bottles. "Lord, Hilde, how much of our grocery bill goes on orange juice? I swear, Heero must have it as meals!"
Hilde looked annoyed. "He's not the only person that likes orange juice, Duo. You two needed to buy extra for the party, remember?" And she stepped out of the kitchen, teacup and saucer in hand. Quickly pouring the orange juice, Duo replaced the bottle, wondering why on earth Trowa didn't want anything to drink. He would have pegged him as a vodka man, or tequila man. Something like that. [Oh well.]
Hurrying back out to where Quatre was gracefully accepting his tea from Hilde, he handed the juice to Trowa and moved away. Turning back, he saw Trowa nodding in his direction as thanks, before turning to face Quatre as Hilde handed over the tea. He watched the blond beam his thank yous as Hilde left, making sure the popcorn hadn't run low or some such party crisis. The braided boy watched with a frown as Quatre tasted the tea carefully, then nodded to Trowa, who gave a small relieved smile. The message was clear -- 'He didn't tamper with it.' Lord, of course he hadn't! Hilde had made it, he hadn't even touched it! He glared at them from behind a potted plant, knowing they couldn't really see him. Annoyance turned to puzzlement as he saw Trowa tentatively taste his own glass, then give the same small relieved smile to himself that he had given to Quatre earlier.
[Wait a minute. What's up with that? What did he think I'd give him, grapefruit juice? Lord, I'm not that incompetant! Why'd he look so relieved... hold on...] Suddenly Duo realised that Trowa had never had anything to drink besides juice or water or coffee at any party he'd ever been to. [Not at the last party, or the one before... and he looked relieved when he tasted the orange juice. As if he were testing it to make sure it was safe. Maybe Quatre's not the only one who can't hold his liquor...] With a grin, Duo headed forward to take the empty glass once Trowa had finished it. "That disappeared awfully fast! You must've been thirsty. Would you like another one?"
Trowa thought about it for a second. He *was* quite thirsty, since it was such a hot night, and the orange juice had been all right -- he'd checked. Nodding, he said, "Yes, thank you Duo." Duo nodded, and disappeared into the kitchen. This time, in addition to the orange juice and ice, he pulled out a bottle of tequila. "Perfect," he chuckled, adding a liberal amount while still being careful to make sure it wasn't enough to be tasted amongst the fruit juice. Hurriedly wiping his grin off, he quickly moved back to Trowa and handed him the glass. "Here you go. More OJ."
Trowa nodded and lifted the glass to his lips, then paused. For a moment Duo thought he was caught, but then Trowa asked, "Where's Quatre?"
Looking around, he suddenly realised Quatre had wandered off somewhere. Frowning, they both looked around until Duo spotted the blond over to the side, directly behind Trowa out of the banged boy's range of vision, chatting aimiably with Relena over who-knew-what. "I think he went out on the dance floor, Tro," Duo said quickly. "Look, you go in there and look for him. Take the drink in with you, it's hot in that little crowd." he indicated the not-quite-so-small crowd of people packed together in the middle of the room, dancing to the beat of the music, glasses in hand.
Trowa nodded, absently taking a sip of the drink he held, eyes scanning the dancing, writhing crowd. "Thanks, Duo. I appreciate it. Can you have another tea ready when I find him? He'll probably be thirsty."
[Oh, this is just too easy!] "Sure thing, Tro. I'll get Hilde to make the tea, and I'll grab you some more juice, too, so that it'll be cold for you once you get out of that mess. At least then you'll have a cold drink to have in there. You'd better drink it or you'll collapse from heat exhaustion!"
"Thanks, Duo. I'll bring him back in a moment." Reassured by Duo's comment about Hilde making Quatre's tea, Trowa took another, larger mouthful from his glass before ducking into the mess of people dancing and chattering. From where he was, Duo cold see the slightly taller pilot looking for Quatre amongst them, sipping frequently at his drink. [Yes! Mission accomplished! Now let's see what the clown has to hide.]
Trowa frowned at the heat amongst the closely packed bodies. Sure, Quatre had grown up in the desert and was used to heat, but still... Trowa couldn't help but worry. And he'd come in here with a hot drink, not a cold drink as these people all had. When he found him he'd give him the rest of his orange juice. Taking another sip -- [my last,] he promised himself, [the rest is for Quatre,] he was surprised to find the glass had only a drop in it. Cursing inwardly, he slowly made his way out to where he had begun. True to his word, the braided boy was standing there with a steaming cup of tea and another glass of juice, as well as his own mug of beer.
"You didn't find him?" Duo asked innocently, sipping the bitter brew.
"No." Trowa looked a little worried. "I hope he hasn't passed out or become ill from the heat..."
"The desert prince? Nah, he'll probably be on his feet, but yeah, he'll be wanting a cold drink, I'll bet. Tell you what, you take this in and share it between yourselves, I'll have more cold drinks ready when you come out, right here, okay? If you can't find him, no worries, just finish the drink yourself and come back here, and we'll both go in with cold stuff, okay?"
Trowa nodded. That seemed quite logical, somehow, though something nagged at him that it wasn't quite right... what if Quatre wasn't in the dancing mob? But Duo said he had seen him go in, hadn't he? "Okay," he said, taking the glass and disappearing once again into the moving bodies. Ten minutes later he re-emerged with a confused look on his face, another empty glass, and slightly glazed eyes, to meet Duo holding no less than *four* juices, an interesting juggling feat. "One for each of us, and one for spare," the former Shinigami explained smoothly.
"Oh. Okay." Trowa followed Duo into the crowd, holding his juice and the spare while Duo held his and Quatre's. That was nice of him. Maybe he could find Quatre faster.
"Look, Tro, you've been wandering around this crowd for a while, right?" Duo asked, stopping in the middle of the dancers.
"Right," Trowa replied, taking a large mouthful of his juice.
"And you haven't found him, right?" Duo's voice was sweet and persuasive, and he was grinning wildly. [I'll have to get someone else to bring me some beer... I *hate* tequila and orange...]
"Right." Trowa took another mouthful and tugged at the collar of his turtleneck. [What's Duo getting at... It's so *hot* in here... Damn, I'm so thirsty...]
"Well, maybe Quatre's looking for YOU as well. And you're both going around and around, and missing each other, and getting all disoriented. So it's probably a better idea to stay here, and let Quatre come to you. Make sense?"
Finishing his drink, Trowa nodded, a little unsteadily, and pushed the sleeves of his turtleneck up slightly. It *did* make sense, and Quatre would probably be pleased to find him.
Duo nodded. "Just dance a little, okay? Don't stand there looking like a statue, you'll embarrass me and Hilde! If it makes you thirsty, there's always the spare drink, remember?" He winked encouragingly, while whispering an aside to someone if they could bring him a beer. The girl darted off into the crowd and Duo decided to have fun.
[Quatre would be upset if I embarrassed anyone... besides, it does look like fun, I haven't practiced my acrobatics for a while and this looks like a chance to test it...] Following Duo's lead, he began to dance. Catching a glimpse of a few people who seemed to be dancing a little better than Duo, he incorporated their movements into his 'routine', and was rewarded with a cheer from Duo. "Great, Tro, you're doing terrific!" he said as the song ended. "Keep that up, and you'll be the centre of attention in no time, Quatre's bound to see you!" as he handed over yet another juice. "Here, you'd better have some, you look all hot and flushed."
[So *hot*... but fun...] Trowa downed the juice thirstily and tossed the empty glass into the air as the next song began, spinning twice before neatly catching it again with all the instincts of a trained performer. Duo laughed. "That's the spirit, Tro-man! Let's party!"
***************
++Half an hour later++
[Where on Earth is he?] Quatre wondered. He'd long since finished talking to Relena, and had scouted around the edges of the room, looking for Trowa, expecting him to be standing by the wall. But he wasn't. [Odd...] He checked in the kitchen, but found the room empty except for a bunch of bottles, including a lot of orange juice bottles next to one bottle of tequila. Wrinkling his nose, he left the room and craned his neck, trying to look over the dance crowd to the other side of the room...
Only to blink as he thought he saw someone come down from a flip as high as the ceiling permitted a body to physically go.
[No... surely not... that's not like Trowa.]
But there were whistles and catcalls coming from the crowd, and curiously, with a strange sense of dread, he pushed his way through the crowd. The crowd had parted to make a small circle of space, and pushing to the front, Quatre's jaw dropped.
There, right in the centre of the circle, was Trowa. His boots were thrown carelessly on the floor to the side, as was his turtleneck. Barefoot, clad in nothing but his jeans -- and Quatre could personally vouch for the fact that he was wearing NOTHING underneath -- Trowa danced with a complete lack of inhibition, moving smoothly and sinuously to the tempo of the beat, liquid sensuality in constant motion, and adding in a few acrobatic stunts just to make the crowd happy. The sensual music stopped, and so did Trowa, much to the disappointment of the crowd. Trowa laughed -- [Laughed? Trowa? In PUBLIC??] -- and picked up a glass of juice, downing it in one gulp. He balanced it on his hand before flipping it neatly in the air, jumping up and flipping, catching it while landing in the splits. The watching crowd went wild at the sight of Trowa, skintight jeans showing every muscle in definition as they stayed easily in the splits, torso glistening with sweat, triumphantly balancing the cup. Grinning, he stood and tossed it aside, someone in the crowd catching it and placing it with four others.
"Trowa?" he called out amongst the catcalls when he had finally regained the power of speech.
Miraculously, Trowa seemed to hear him through the noise. "Quatre!" Springing to the smaller boy's side, he held him close and murmured, "You did find me, you're not lost. I'm so glad." Tenderly, he stroked Quatre's face before suddenly kissing him deeply, much to the audience's delight.
Quatre's eyes widened. [Who is this, and what has he done with my Trowa? My Trowa would never act like this in public... wait a minute, what's this taste in his mouth...? Oh, no...] Detaching himself gently but firmly, he stared Trowa in the eye and said, very calmly, "Trowa, what have you been drinking?"
Trowa blinked owlishly. "Orange juice. Same as I had when you had your tea. Tea. Hot drink. Too hot to drink hot drinks. Aren't you hot in that?" He pressed a hand to Quatre's forehead, looking for a non-existant fever, an anxious look on his flushed face.
Gently detaching his hand, Quatre said, "No, I'm fine, Trowa. But I don't think you are." He cast a furious glance at Duo.
"I'm fine, Quatre, see? I keep getting thirsty, but Duo makes sure I have plenty of orange juice. I haven't had anything else, I promise." And as another song started, this one a song with a Spanish beat, Trowa laughed and spun Quatre around unexpectedly, before pulling him out to the dance floor, beginning to dance in that same erotic style he had before.
Quatre spun around to glare at Duo, as the music changed. "What did you give him?" he demanded furiously.
"TEQUILA!" shouted Trowa, along with the entire crowd. Quatre jumped. "What??"
Trowa laughed again. "It's the words to the song, Quatre -- well, word really -- c'mon, sing, it's really easy!" Once again, the saxophone belted out a quick melody and Trowa, Duo and the crowd shouted "Tequila!" before dissolving into laughter and continuing to dance.
Quatre processed all that. ["... Quatre, you're not the only one who turns into a horny drunk..." Orange juice. Duo. That tequila bottle in the kitchen.] He took a deep breath to calm himself, then looked at Trowa. "Trowa, love... how much, uh, "orange juice" have you had?"
Trowa stopped dancing and frowned, the picture of deep thought. Finally, he said "Four glassess," as he held out five fingers.
A cackle from behind him made Quatre turn around. "Try adding to that, Tro! You must've lost count!" Duo was holding onto a mug of beer, and was quite obviously plastered. Giving him a good imitation of Heero's death glare, Quatre turned back at hearing a plaintive complaint of "so hot...", and to his horror saw Trowa dancing and about to remove his jeans. [No way!]
"Trowa, no!" Launching himself at Trowa, he caught the hands before they could undo the denim. "Don't do that, sweetheart. Wait till we go home. In fact, let's go home now, okay?"
"Okay," Trowa agreed, surprisingly compliant, and blew a kiss to everyone who waved and cheered wildly. Quatre winced. [If he remembers any of this in the morning, he will die of embarrassment. Duo, omae o korosu!!]
Trying to fetch Trowa's clothes proved to be an impossible task, as Trowa seemed bent on clinging to him like a leech and telling him that he loved him, that he was so happy he wasn't lost, and suchlike. Quatre finally gave up, and gave a still-sober Wufei a stern injunction to send the clothes home. Taking Trowa by both hands, he gently pulled him out the door, backing up carefully, Trowa obediently following. "So hot..." he murmured. Then he looked over and smiled. "You're hot too, Quatre. So very, very hot."
"Yes, Trowa," Quatre said sweetly, leading him towards the car, "It's very hot out tonight." Letting go of one of his lover's hands, he grabbed the handle of the unlocked vehicle's door and tried to open it, but was stopped by Trowa pressing him against the door, pinning him.
"Love you," muttered Trowa as he leaned forward, kissing Quatre chastely on the forehead before lowering his mouth to the blond's and giving him a kiss that was nowhere near as chaste. His head was swimming, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why he felt so hot... but Quatre was here, and that was all that mattered. Loving Quatre. Beautiful Quatre. Sexy Quatre... in a hot summer night... of course, it was only right, after all. Quatre was wonderful any time and anywhere.
"Mmpm, no, Trowa..." Gently, he pushed the taller boy away. Seeing the slightly disappointed look on the brunette's face, he quickly added. "Let's wait until we get home; it's too hot outside."
Trowa seemed to think about that a little and nodded. [Go home... home, to bed... have to drive Quatre home, have to look after my angel...] Stumbling, he unsteadily made his way around to the driver's side of the car.
Alarmed, Quatre grabbed ahold of Trowa's arm. "Can I drive, please, love? You always get to drive." He pouted a little, trying to pry the keys out of the slender fingers at the same time. [Now I know how he felt when I was this drunk...]
Frowning, Trowa looked at Quatre, trying to decide what to do. His angel wanted to drive, so therefore he, Trowa, should let him drive... but it was his job, he had to make sure Quatre didn't get into trouble, he'd promised him hadn't he? [I told him I'd look after him all tonight... yes I did...] "But I should, I have to make sure you're all right, have to make sure Duo doesn't, doesn't..." A wave of sudden dizziness hit him, and he reached out instinctively for Quatre. His Quatre would never let him fall.
Not expecting it, Quatre clumsily wrapped his arms around Trowa, the complete lack of control on the other's part causing him to fall to the ground, the green-eyed boy atop him. "Ouch," he said softly, trying to ease the inebriated one off him.
Dimly, through the wild spinning -- why wouldn't Quatre make it stop? -- Trowa realised that someone had spoken nearby. [Someone was hurt, said ouch. Who...] Slowly, he began to take in his surroundings -- and was horrified to find himself lying on top of Quatre. He had hurt his precious lover! [I promised I'd take care of him!] "'m sorry, sorry sorry sorry Quatre, sorry sorry..." he babbled weakly, pushing himself roughly to the side, not even caring that he landed with a hard thump, the unforgiving pavement scraping a deep gouge into his bare back. [I hurt Quatre no no no I hurt Quatre...]
"No, Trowa, I'm fine, really!" He pulled Trowa to his feet, leaning against the car hood to steady them both. Puzzled, he draw his hand away from his lover's back when he felt something hot and wet. [Blood.] Horrified, he started at the red liquid. "Did you cut yourself?" he asked anxiously.
"Did I?" Trowa asked vaguely. "I hope so. Hope tha'ss my blood. Not your blood, itooshii..." Murmuring endearments and protective phrases under his breath, he held Quatre close, burying his face in sweet blond hair. So engrossed was he in this, in his Quatre, that he did not even think to complain when the car keys were taken from his unresisting fingertips.
"Let's go home, my love," Quatre purred, squeezing his lover tightly. Once Trowa had wobbled to the passenger side, the blue-eyed one settled behind the wheel. [Just a few miles... Then we can get home and he can sleep it off.] He slipped the key into the ignition, then leaned over to buckle Trowa's seatbelt.
Trowa smiled lazily over at him, a distinct gleam in his eye. "Yeah... le'ss go home, angel," he muttered quietly, leaning over and covering Quatre's face with kisses and touching him with gentle caresses as his angel buckled him in. [So thoughtful, so kind, so beautiful... I want him so bad...]
Quatre smiled softly. [Ah, Trowa, you're so sweet like this... if annoyingly overprotective.] He started the car and headed towards home. [Now, as long as he doesn't try to grope me like I did him, we should be fine...]
The taller boy sighed. [I can't touch him till we're home... not fair...] A gleam come into his eyes as an idea came to him, and he wasted no time in carrying it out, being quite wasted himself. Using his height, he simply leaned over and laid his head on Quatre's shoulder as he drove, one arm coming up to snuggle against the blond boy. He felt the car lurch sideways slightly as Quatre yelped, and before he even realised that he had been jolted off Quatre's shoulder, he found himself with his face in his lover's lap. "Ooops", he murmured, laughing helplessly. It was just so funny! To be so close to Quatre by accident like this was just too wonderful and lovely and funny. He snuggled down happily, not caring about the discomfort of the position he was in, his lower half still buckled into his own seat and his head nestled in Quatre's lap. He nuzzled playfully at the material beneath his nose in delight.
Quatre jumped again, but this time maintained control of the car. "Trowa, please, I-I can't concentrate on driving with your head in my lap." [The road, the road], he chanted in his head, eyes firmly fixed ahead of him even as he felt his body reacting.
Trowa laughed lightly, practically a giggle. "S-sorry Quatre." He sighed, not wanting to leave his very comfortable position. "Quatre, I don' think I can move. 'Sides, don' you like me here? You did last night..." and with this plaintive statement he rubbed his cheek against the increasing bulge as if he were a large cat, purring with contentment.
"Uhhn." He bit his lip, then calmed enough to say, "But, love, it's har-difficult!... to think of anything else when you do that." He turned a corner. "You don't want us to get in a wreck, do you?"
"No..." No, Trowa did not want to get into a wreck. Quatre might be hurt. Struggling, he managed to pull himself up with a sigh, but slumped against Quatre again, leaning on his shoulder. [Don't fall this time, hold onto his shoulder tight so that we don't get into a wreck,] he told himself firmly, his fogged mind finding this train of thought perfectly logical. Having removed his head from Quatre's lap, he felt free to kiss and nibble at his lover's neck, because of course, that was safe. Quatre had said that having his head in his lap would make them have a car wreck, and he was leaning on his shoulder now, so of course everything would be fine, his Quatre would keep them both safe... [oh, God, Quatre, you smell so sweet, taste so good...] Trowa whimpered with need into his lover's neck.
Fortunately, for the sake of the car, Quatre pulled in the driveway, easing Trowa off his shoulder and slipping out. "We're home," he said with more cheer than he felt, opening the passenger door and helping him out, draping an arm around his waist to support him.
"Uh-huh. 'Kay, Quatre." Staggering a little, but otherwise surprisingly steady, he managed to get into the house with little help from Quatre, his natural grace and acrobat's training kicking in once more, as it had at the party. Unfortunately, the alcohol was also fully kicking in, and Trowa began rubbing his body hungrily against Quatre's the instant they got through the door. Pressing his lips against the Arabian's in a needy, pleading kiss, wordlessly whimpering with desire, he felt a flash of gratitude when Quatre's hands came up to caress him, soothe him. He sighed in pleasure at the feel of the soft material of Quatre's shirt on his bare chest, though he decided that it would have to come off soon. In fact, there was no time like the present...
"Wait, Trowa --" He was muffled briefly by his shirt being rather forcefully removed. "Trowa, aijin, please, let's wait until we get to our bed; someone might see us!" He tried to remove himself from the stronger boy's grasp.
Trowa stopped, his mind a sensation-filled fog. [Quatre wants us to go to our room...] he realised distantly. "But..." he whined, pouting, before giving up. "All right," he said, just a little sulkily. Grabbing Quatre by the hands, he started to tug the other boy over to the staircase -- [when we get to bed, to bed, bed bed bed...] and then stopped, bewildered. [Where... where is our bed? I'm sure I knew where it was... it's around here *somewhere*...] Desperately, he turned to his beloved for guidance. "Where...?" he asked weakly. [Why can't I remember? I'm supposed to look after you, and I can't remember, wrong all wrong I've failed my Quatre...]
Quatre sighed a little, then smiled. "It's this way." Slowly, he led Trowa up the stairs. [We get to bed, and hopefully he passes out. I don't want him to hurt himself again.] Opening their bedroom door, he felt as though he were finally safe. "Come on love, let's go to sleep," he murmured.
Trowa allowed himself to be lowered onto the bed, before catching hold of Quatre and pulling him down on top of him, being very careful about that. [Him on top of me. Not me on top of him. Not this time. Not hurt him ever ever ever...] Cuddling close, wrapping his arms tightly around his startled lover, he began to writhe slowly underneath him. [So *hot* again... and getting hotter... oh...] Groaning, Trowa knew exactly what he wanted. [Make love to me. Take me. Do what you like, but please oh please I need you Quatre.] He ached to remove his jeans, but he couldn't move his hands from where they held his lover tight, could only moan "Quatre, Quatre," over and over again in a pleading tone. [Help me angel, help me, so hot, help me...]
Heat pooled between the blond's legs; he wanted, wanted badly, to give him what he wanted, but couldn't. "Trowa, my love, you don't know what you're saying. You're drunk... I can't." [No matter how badly you're turning me on...]
"Want you," Trowa managed to moan. "Know I want you. Know that. PLEASE, Quatre," he begged, eyes glazed with need and drunkeness, yet somehow tinged with sadness. "You want me, don' you? You did. You did. You do now? Please?"
"Trowa, of course I want you! But, if -- if you're mad at me in the morning, I don't know what I'll do." It hurt Quatre's heart to disappoint his lover, but he knew he would hate himself if Trowa was angry at his lack of self-control tomorrow.
"Not mad, never mad at you ever. Please Quatre, please... need you so bad... love you so much... 'm sorry. So sorry. If I say sorry, you'll love me?"
Now the Arabian felt even worse. "I still love you! Nothing could ever change that." Sighing, he knew words would not change how the drunken one felt, and he leaned down to kiss him.
Relief flooded Trowa's mind as Quatre kissed him, and he parted his lips joyously beneath his lover's. [Oh yes angel, thank you thank you, oh, more, like that, mmm...] "Sorry," he breathed in between kisses. "Sorry I hurt you... din' mean to... sorry 'm drunk... only drank j-juice... don' unnerstan' it... but still sorry."
"It's all right," he soothed, running a hand firmly down his koi's bare chest. "Don't apologize; Duo probably put something in it." [I am going to strangle him with his braid next time I see him], Quatre thought angrily.
"Tequila!" Trowa giggled, imitating the song once again. "Got drunk on t'quila once... at the circusss... felt the same way I do now. All hot... but no one loved me then. No one helped me." He purred, resuming his slow, hungry rythym. "You love me now, ev'rything's okay, fine, fine... you'll help me, angel, won' you?"
"Of course I will, aijin." He unbuttoned the other's pants, trying to slide the sweat-soaked denim down slim legs. "I love you Trowa," he murmured, kissing his flushed face before unfastening his own pants.
"Love you too... love you so much... die for you, live for you... do anythin'..." Trowa moaned, arching up to kiss his his now-naked lover eagerly, taking him somewhat clumsily into his arms. He sighed. "Your skin... so cool, so soft, so pale, so nice..." He rubbed his own flushed face against Quatre's cool, milky chest. He sighed again with pleasure as some of the uncomfortable fever abated. "SO nice..."
Smiling, Quatre stroked the taller boy's inner thighs, working his way towards the aching member, taking it in one cool, soft hand. "Trowa... If you want me to stop... If you change your mind..." He trailed off.
Mewling, Trowa writhed in combined pleasure and pain as Quatre wrapped his lovely cool hand around him... and didn't move! "Quatre... please... I need... need... NEED!" Unable to speak anymore, he broke off with a choking sound, caught in the grip of uncontrollable heat and desire. [So hot so hot I'm burning right up I'll be burned away there'll be nothing left oh angel please please help me...]
"Shh, calm down." Slowly, he caressed the length, savoring the heat and hardness in his hand. [Oh, Trowa, so beautiful...] He suppressed his own burning need, wanting his lover to have his pleasure first. [Only for you, Trowa...]
Trowa moaned, feeling that hand move tenderly on his heated flesh. [...so GOOD...] Inhibitions gone, he acted purely on instinct, spreading his long legs wider to make things easier for Quatre, giving a silent invitation, his tongue rendered mute by relief and heat and pleasure.
Moaning softly at the wanton action, the blond reached into the partially opened nightstand drawer, withdrawing a tube of lubricant. "You can still change your mind," he murmured a final time, slipping two slick fingers into the warm, waiting body beneath him.
[Change... my mind?] Trowa shook his head vehemently, thrusting back with unashamed need on Quatre's fingers, moaning all the while. "Oh..." he whimpered softly, and raised his gaze, covered with a thick sheen of lust and love, to Quatre's. He couldn't speak, but did it matter? His angel would know. His angel knew everything.
Carefully withdrawing the digits, Quatre moved the brunette's legs so his thighs pressed against his own pale hips. "Don't let me hurt you," he whispered, easing into the tight heat.
With a cry of pure delight, Trowa felt Quatre enter him, slowly, tenderly, lovingly. Everything his beautiful lover was. Moaning, tossing his head wildly, he arched shamelessly into Quatre's thrust, meeting him and more, burying his lover deep within his own body. Quatre felt wonderful inside him -- hot, yet also deliciously cool, easing yet more of the fever that threatened to envelop him, even now he was naked. Oh, Quatre's cool arms were coming around to hold him, cool legs intertwining -- Trowa had no doubt. This was heaven. There could not be any higher bliss than this.
Allowing his desire to take over completely, the tall, slender boy started to move, mewling, urging his lover wordlessly to move inside him. His skin was flushed red with desire, eyes wanton and glazed, face open and filled with emotion. Though he did not know it, he was a breathtaking sight. In fact, he knew nothing except one word. [Quatre... Quatre... Quatre... Quatre...] His lover filled his world, WAS his world.
"Trowa," he breathed, his hips slowly moving, working into a deep-thrusting rhythm. His love was so sweet, almost to the point where Quatre felt intoxicated himself. "I love you," he murmured.
Those words penetrated the thick haze around Trowa's mind, and tipped him over the edge. With a cry of joy, the taller boy came, mouth open, panting and gasping, sweat-slicked hair sticking to the side of his face. "QUATRE!"
The Arabian would have giggled at the volume of the other's voice, had the tightening of Trowa's muscles not triggered his own climax. Sighing, he slumped against Trowa's chest as the last of the tremors left him. "I love you," he murmured again.
"love you too..." Trowa's voice was nearly inaudible with exhaustion, but he managed, with a great effort, to lean up and plant a delicate kiss on Quatre's cheek before collapsing back on the bed, totally unconscious, finally falling victim to the effects of the alcohol, his dancing, and their lovemaking.
[He's going to have a demon of a headache in the morning], the smaller boy thought with a grin, then followed his lover into dreams.
***************
Groaning softly, Trowa lay curled up in bed, refusing adamantly to move. "I wish I didn't have to breathe... it makes it worse," he complained weakly. Looking up at Quatre, his brow furrowed. "I... was so drunk. But how...? DUO!" That last, angry exclamation of realisation had been said far too loud and he gasped, clutching his head in pain. While he felt little nausea, the headache that raged in his head was more than enough to make up for that. He could barely see.
The blond giggled very softly, kissing his cheek. "We'll get him back," he whispered nearly inaudibly, knowing anything louder would be painful. "I think we should stay away from his parties as well."
"Agreed, on both counts," whispered Trowa. He blushed a little, staining his cheeks a slight red, which had previously been pallid with pain. "I remember... being very drunk... I hope I didn't make things too difficult or embarrassing for you, love. I know I'm a holy terror when I'm drunk... or so Catherine told me, anyway..."
"You were... interesting." Quatre replied with another soft giggle.
Trowa raised an eyebrow weakly. "Define 'interesting'. That could mean anything... oh, Lord, I didn't drop my pants again, did I?"
"No. Just your shirt." Again he giggled, though he was trying to stop for his lover's sake. "I hope Wufei comes back with the things you took off."
The tall boy lay still in the bed, closing his eyes. "And I suppose I showed off and made an incredible fool of myself -- and of you. I'm sorry, Quatre. I really didn't know that my drinks were spiked."
"I know; you tried to tell me as much last night." He smiled, gently stroking the hair that covered one green eye. "Are you all right, love?"
"I've been better, but I'll live. I think." The wry comment was quietly spoken as Trowa sighed in a mixture of pain and comfort as Quatre continued to stroke his hair tenderly. "I just wish I hadn't made things so hard on you. I keep away from alcohol for precisely the reasons you probably found out last night. I wish I could remember more than that fog. More fool me for not realising that Duo would spike my juice."
"We'll just have to get him back, won't we?" Quatre murmured, pressing a feathery kiss to his lover's temple.
"How? We've already tried opera..." Trowa's eyes closed, and he snuggled into his lover's tender touches, allowing the gentle care to give him a small respite from the stabbing ache in his head.
Quatre rubbed his head against the taller boy's shoulder. "Don't worry about it now. We'll think of something truly awful, once your hangover is gone."
"Thanks, angel," Trowa murmured, burying his head in the pillows and holding Quatre to him like a child would hold a teddy bear. "Stay with me... just for a little while? I know you have things to do, and I understand if you can't, but..."
"Of course I will, my love." Curling against the brunette's side, he closed his eyes, giving all the comfort he could while plotting revenge on their braided friend.
##OWARI##
Back to the Gundam Retreat.