Witch Doctor of Love

Author: fruits of Eos
Contains: 3x4x3, lemon, pwp, cursing a bunches
Disclaimer: these two boys are getting jiggy with it, and well, shut up if you have to vomit at such a thought. i don't care. oh, and the version of the song witch doctor is a remix from ddr. XD couldn't help it.

=Witch Doctor of Love==


The moon was shining brightly outside his frosted window, seemingly mocking him at how late it had become and how little he had progressed in his paperwork. Quatre had been staring at the same report for almost an hour, and nothing had happened on it during that time. As he continued to look at it, reading the same sentence four or five times in fatigued succession, his report slowly fell out of focus and with a sudden drop of his head, his eyes closed and he fell asleep, his forehead flat on the table. He was all too painfully aware of the tall stack of papers next to his head that were all due the next day, and he was no closer to finishing them than he was three hours ago.

Every moment he was sleeping he regretted ever taking over his dad’s corporate position, and every moment that he wasn’t he cursed his position and his stupidity for ever considering it. Sure it was more of a matter of being considerate for his dad, taking over the corporations he had amassed during his business career, and running them in his place, like a good son, but it sure as hell was taxing on a sixteen-year old who was also simultaneously fighting a war and trying to sort out the many teenager problems that involuntarily came with his age.

Quatre didn’t really feel that he had to worry about relationships much though; his social life had long since become extinct, and any current relationships with females just as nonexistant. Of course, he thought with his eyes still closed, there are those cute girls at work that intern for my secretaries, and they’re about my age, and probably half the staff is trying to set me up with at least one of them, and I think some of them like me. I bet it’s for my money. Maybe one of them actually want me, but looking at the way they dress, I’d think they wanted more spending cash to support their little fur/leather/diamond addictions.

He sighed into the table, and after a few more minutes of resting he lifted his head and winced at the pain from where his forehead had been pressed into the table. He rubbed it absently as he began reading over the sentence he had been reading for the past five minutes yet again, dully noting the familiarity of the words but still not comprehending any of it. He groaned in frustration and finally stood up to take a jog around the house with hopes of waking himself up, but as he left the room he tripped on his heavy feet and he fell to the carpeted floor, and immediately was fast asleep.

While he was fast asleep on the floor, Quatre didn’t notice, nor hear the silent intruder, entering his home and tiptoeing up the staircase towards him. The intruder ignored the vault of money and valuables, as well as the gold statues and the priceless paintings hung on the wall but instead headed straight for Quatre’s office, where the blonde was sprawled out on the carpet. Gingerly the intruder bended over and picked up the lightly-snoring Quatre, then walked back into the room to place him on the bed. But almost as if he knew he was going to be put on his bed Quatre awoke with a start and shoved the man away, panicking. He knew he shouldn’t leave himself so unguarded, especially in this time and considering who he was, but he thought there would have been no reason since the front and back door were locked. So how did he get in? He looked at the sillouhette and slowly turned on the lamp by his bed.

The soft glow of his lamp revealed that the tall man was only Trowa, who had probably gotten in with a house key Quatre gave him a few months back. He sighed a small smile and leaned back on his bed so his back was against the wall. His eyes started to droop though, so he shook his head and sat up.

“Hi, Trowa. You sure scared me. What in Allah’s name are you doing in my house at such an ungodly hour?” Trowa made a small smile, then rummaged through his pockets to produce a bundle of papers bound with a large paperclip and handed it to Quatre.

“I found those parts you needed for Sandrock. Sorry they weren’t purchased quite legally, but it was pretty difficult to find them. Those parts you were looking for are practically never manufactured anymore because of their designs specifically for the gundam. Hope you don’t mind.” Quatre shuffled the papers one by one, examining the receipts and descriptions of each part. He had asked Trowa to help him look for the parts a few weeks back for some additions to his gundam that he hoped would make Sandrock more well equipped and maneuverable in space, though after a week of searching through mobile suit data bases for them he gave up and let Trowa find them, who claimed to know of a secret source that was bound to have them. Apparently he found them using this secret source of his, which now seems to be a smuggling circle of parts for various makes of suits. Quatre absently wondered how Trowa got involved in such a ring.

“Thank you, Tro. You always go out of your way for me,” Quatre said, smiling sheepishly, “but why so late? You should be sleeping.” Trowa looked around the room, noting the stacks of official and business papers.

“You should be too, though from the looks of it, you may not be able to tonight,” he said. Quatre just shrugged and got up from the bed. But after a moment of standing he decided that sitting was much less exhausting and flopped back onto the comforter.

“So, you never answered my question. Why so late, Trowa?” He saw Trowa take his coat off, then lay it on his executive chair. When Trowa turned to face him, Quatre could see the dark shadows under his eyes, and the evident fatigue in his body posture.

“I need someplace to sleep tonight. I had been traveling for a while, paying off the brib—search fees for those parts and no hotel was vacant. I’m hoping the news of your parts will be payment enough to let me stay here.” With a light chuckle Quatre forced his body to stand upright and hobbled to his executive desk, still drowsy from fatigue.

“Trowa, you’re welcome here with or without parts, news, whatever. I’m more than happy to let you in my house. Now,” he paused, “can you help me lift that big pile of papers over there onto my desk? I need to get that one done tonight, or my schedule will be severely behind.” Trowa looked at the pile, noting with barely supressed surprise that the stack couldn’t have been shorter than the length of legs. It was ridiculous, but then again, he knew that he had no experience in the business corporate world. Still, it seemed a lot for someone who had a mission the next day.

Or did he know?

Trowa decided not to bring it up while they were transferring the stack of reports from the corner to Quatre’s desk; he wondered absently if the desk was strong enough to hold so much. Once the transfer was complete, Quatre slumped into his chair and breathed a long sigh, then eyed the stack with obvious distaste. Trowa decided not to tell him and just call him in sick for the mission for him, and then maybe kidnap him from work tomorrow for an early getaway from work, so he could get some sleep. After all, Quatre won’t find out, not if the right alibi is made, right?

“So, I, um, guess I’ll be leaving you to your work?” He saw a nod and the head almost instantly nodded forward onto the table surface, then stopped. He heard a rhythmic and steady breathing from Quatre, and poked him until he awoke.

“Uhhh, oh, yeah. There’s an empty room the next door over, so have fun. I’ll work on this; d wor worry, I won’t fall asleep again.” He smiled weakly and, disgusted, took the report off the top of the pile and began to read it over. Trowa felt guilty for leaving him with so much work; he wished he knew more about business so he could help. It didn’t match Quatre’s personality to be up at 3 in the morning going over reports and signing them off. Well, maybe I can do something nice for him some, li, like a vacation. With a mental sigh Trowa left the room. Quatre heard the door next to his room open, then shut quietly. Iiateiately he let out a breath and let his head rest on the table. Soon, he was asleep again.


The clock on his desk blinked 4:02 am when he finally woke up, with a bad taste in his mouth and a numb forehead. His eyes were dry and hard to open, and he felt like weights were hooked to his eyelids. It was the perfect excuse to go to bed, but he really needed to finish his work before 6. He shuddred involuntarily when he looked back at the untouched stack on his desk, realizing he had two hours to finish the whole stack and get it in. Calling in sick just wasn’t an option; evf hef he did he would still have to finish it all and send it in today because it was due today, whether he was there or not. He desperately wished and prayed he didn’t have a mission today.

Quatre breathed in deeply to get oxygen to his brain, but it worked adversely like a yawn and made him slump back in his chair. His heavy head wandered to his stereo. Hey, maybe I can psomesomething to keep me awake, he thought, something with a defined beat and really bouncy. After a struggle with gravity he hauled his body upright and walked over to the stereo to search through his cds for something. Classical CD after CD he searched with nothing really upbeat. He supposed he could pop a Wagner or Bach, but even those could put him to sleep; at this hour not much could really keep someone up.

It was then Quatre noticed Duo’s CD case lying near his stereo. Duo must have left it here yesterday when he visited, Quatre thought. Curiously he opened it and proceeded to search through it, hoping to find something with an intoxicating beat; most of Duo’s music would qualify though. After a few minutes of searching, amid incapacitating yawns, he found a burned cd of random techno and remix songs he found off the internet (all legal :3, supposedly) and placed it into the player. He didn’t know what was in it, but all the same turned up the volume much higher than he normally would, to a dry-wall-shattering decibel, stood back, and waited.

To his delight the speakers began blasting songs with a heavy beat and bouncy lyrics he couldn’t help but dance along to. Quatre jerked his hips back and forth to the rhythm and with an uncontrolled motion swung his head back and forth, letting his hair flounce all over his face. His arms were flailing in the air above his head and his feet were hitting the floor to the defined beats, and soon Quatre was dancing like a drunkard. He was absolutely exhilarated.

He danced over to the light switch and dimmed the lights, then hopped back to the center of the room and began swinging his hips to the music, tossing his hair in every direction and throwing his arms into the air. He would have fit in perfectly in a nightclub mosh pit.

The music turned to one he knew; it was “Witch Doctor”, but with a much more modern beat, like it was remixed. He found absolute delight in the song and sang along to the words, still swinging his body completely uninhibited and without a memory of his business role. His hair glowed under the dimmed lights and his clothes, slightly baggy, swayed often low on his hips and exposed his toned abs and defined hip. His light skin, now covered with a light sheen of sweat, glimmered and highlighted his giant grin and shining eyes. Quatre was awake and energized.

He could only feel the adrenaline rushing into his head, so he hardly noticed the bedraggled and clearly irritated person open his door with disgust on his face. Trowa WAS sleeping, until he heard techno/remix music rattle his wall, and had come to Quatre’s room with the intention of smashing the stereo and setting fire to the remains, but all his intentions disappeared and the blood rose to his face when he saw Quatre. Quatre was glistening with sweat, his shirt was unbuttoned to cool himself off and thus effectively show off his well-toned chest (he’d been working out. hey, sexy Quatre!), and his pants were unbuttoned to allow for more erratic hip movement. His hair was streaking half his face, his eyes half-closed that showed a glimmering dark blue rimmed with carnality, and his mouth was slightly parted to accentuate the cupid-bowed curve of his lips. Trowa thought he would die from the sudden rush of blood to his groin; there would be no blood left for his brain.

He could barely summon enough courage to step forward, the original intent to turn off the stereo nothing more than an irritating murmer in the back of his head. Quatre slowly made his way over to where Trowa was, still oblivious, and still dancing to Witch Doctor, which he put on a continuous loop. Trowa decided to do something to get himself noticed.

With an awkward motion Trowa began swinging his hips to the beat, loosened his shirt buttons and raised his arms, then slowly started to walk/dance to where Quatre was. By now Quatre looked so incredibly irresistable and decadent Trowa almost gave up his plan, and instead jump the blonde and screw him into the floor. But he resisted, (painfully), and tiptoed behind the crazy-dancing blonde, then started to dance in sync with him.

Quatre was having an energy rush and swung his hips with more irradic movements, and suddenly bumped into something. He heard it grunt and surprised he whirled around in place to see Trowa, whose emerald eyes weide ide with equal surprise, and in an awkward position. He couldn’t help but look the brunette up and down over and over. His arms were raised, raising his partly unbuttoned shirt off his waist to expose a tantalizing slice of toned muscle, his legs were spread for bce, ce, and his face was contorted into the cutest look of confusion. He was delicious.

Gradually Quatre regained the feel of the beat and began to sway and toss his head again, throwing a smile to encourage the other pilot to join in. When Trowa didn’t, he moved closer and started to dance against him, rubbing the length of his body against him and tossing his head back. Trowa almost cried.

But Trowa seemed too traumatized to move, so Quatre decided to help him a little more, and with soft hands grasped the slender hips and swayed them in time with his own. When he felt Trowa moving on his own he let his hands wander up Trowa’s side and rest on his shoulders. For what seemed like an eternity the two of them danced like this; Quatre’s hands lightly gripping the elegantly curved shoulders, Trowa’s hands eventually resting on Quatre’s hips, and their bodies swaying in time no more than a foot apart. When Quatre changed the song finally with a remote they found the next song more techno and swung more wildly.

Their bodies slowly drifted closer, enjoying the heat of each other and neither really wanting to speak and ruin the moment. Trowa had never been apparent of his attraction towards Quatre before, and was never even aware that he had wanted to be so close to him before. In fact, before now he had never been turned on in any way by Quatre. So why is he finding it so hard to resist the urge to screw him to the floor? Perhaps because Quatre’s sweaty, muscular, and dancing erotically, Tro-man, the voice in his head said with a dead-pan. Gee, Trowa thought, his eyes getting wide, I never knew that Quatrewas so damn toned! Wow, he could turn on anyone like this. Explains my reaction then…

//I told the Witch Doctor I was in love with you, I told the Witch Doctor I was in love with you//

Witch Doctor came on again, and this time Trowa could hear Quatre giggle , and scoot backwards, slowly, still dancing. “This song is so much fun, Tro! Come on, dance with me!” He held out his hands, still smiling. Slowly Trowa inched forward, still blushing furiously and incredibly hot. They started dancing again, but Trowa’s nervousness finally became too much and he tripped on his feet, knocking Quatre and himself over onto the bed behind them. With a startled yell Trowa landed ontop Quatre, his chest firmly upon his, his legs straddling Quatre’s hips, and his face buried in the crook of Quatre’s neck. It was as if fate was telling him to hurry up and fulfill his fantasies.

Embarassed Trowa scrambled to get up, stammering apologies and ducking his head to avoid the other’s eyes, though when he tried to push himself up his arms shook so violently he collapsed back onto the other pilot, and heard a muffled, “oh!” beneath him. He felt Quatre giggle against his chest, and try to nuzzle it with his nose, but when Quatre couldn’t much he tried to lift Trowa’s shoulder so to better snuggle against the taught muscle. “Trowa,” Quatre whined, “you’re crushing my ribs. Roll to the side, will you?” A few grunts later Trowa maneuvered to the side of Quatre and lay on his back, still flushing from the incident. Both were slightly panting, though Quatre may have been because he couldn’t physically breathe while Trowa was ontop him.

//And then the Witch Doctor, he told me what to do//

With a fluid jerking of his hips and back Quatre hoisted himself ontop Trowa. He grinned almost ferally; his eyes seemed to glint under the darkened light.

“Che, surrenduring the top so easily. Oh well,” Quatre sighed, and happily began licking and kissing at the exposed neck that was still slightly sweaty from their earlier movement. Encouraged by the barely supressed moans from under him he slowly let his tongue trail down the slender neck,, enjoying the mixture of skin and sweat and the husky smell that was distinctly Trowa. In fact, Trowa was amazingly sexy without him ever really knowing it, Quatre thought. Trowa was slender, but still muscularly defined, and had a tan that complimented his dark chocolate hair and his deep green eyes. Delicious.

//He told me: Ooh ee ooh ah ah ting tang walawala bing bang//

His light-skinned hands slowly began lifting the bottom of Trowa’s shirt up, taking care to rub the taut muscle underneath, his eyes greedily taking in each small inch of bronze skin that became exposed. A deep moan escaped Trowa’s throat, whose eyes were barely closed, glistening with irrepressable passion and delight at this new, foreign, stimulus. His hands roamed to Quatre’s sides and gripped them, then began to rub them, letting his fingers travel and massage the taught muscle in Quatre’s thighs and lower back.

Quatre threw his head back, groaning at how wonderful it felt, and felt himself grow more frustrated at the lack of contact. He all but ripped off Trowa’s shirt and attacked the exposed skin, and was quickly rewarded with louder moans from the body underneath him. He attacked the hardening nipples, licking them, then blowing cool air on them.

//Ooh ee ooh ah ah ting tang walawala bing bang//

Trowa found this teasing incredibly cruel. So he growled discontentedly and ground his hip into Quatre’s legs, making him gasp at the sensation, and Trowa’s immense hardness rubbing against his thighs only made him hotter and less patient to play with the toned flesh. With a feral smile he pressed down on Trowa’s crotch with one hand and the other still rubbing the sweaty defined chest, and rubbed it with gradually increasing speed. Trowa looked like he was going to come in his pants.

“Quatre,” Trowa rasped, “I need you to stop your fucking teasing. I can’t…oh fucking GOD!” Quatre grabbed his crotch suddenly and rubbed it harder, moving his own insisting bulge against Trowa’s leg. “Do…you…want more, Trowa?” Quatre said, breathing heavily as if he were out of breath.

“Stop…” Trowa breathed, his vision blacking out, “your…fucking…TEASING! FUCK!” He threw his head back and screamed a moan as he came violently into his pants, Quatre’s hand still on his crotch. Quatre smiled again and leaned forward, kissing the parted lips and licking his teeth with his invading tongue. They deepened the kiss for a moment, laying with Quatre on top, letting Trowa relax after his orgasm, though when Trowa’s sleepy sated mind finally began to clear he realized Quatre was still sporting a hard on, which was pressed nonchalantly against his abdomen.

“Happy, Tro? Too bad I never got your pants off. Sorry, but your reaction was so amusing,” Quatre giggled, and lay his chin on Trowa’s slick chest, turning his head slightly to lick the salty skin at his leisure. Trowa sighed, then decided to get back at Quatre for teasing so much.

Without warning Trowa roughly pushed Quatre off him onto the bed and twisted his body so he was pinning the smaller pilot to the sheets. He gripped the light-skinned arms and pinned them above Quatre’s head and straddled his legs so he couldn’t move. Quatre yelped, trying to free his arms by pulling them from the tight grip, but to no avail. His legs were also held down by heavy, muscular legs and a narrow hip. His blood slowly rose to his face when Trowa sneered, then slowly rubbed his hip against Quatre’s still insistent arousal. “So tell me what you want, Quatre,” he breathed, lowering his lips so they were barely brusing against the folds of his ear, “do you want some of that teasing you so generously gave me? Just say the word and I’ll give you all you want.” Quatre felt a strong hand grip his crotch and started rubbing it, slowly, then faster. Quatre swore he could see stars.

“Stop it, Trowa! For gods sakes, if you’re going to do that, at least take it out! These are good pants!” Quatre growled, and tried to kick Trowa with his knees, though because they were held down by the taller pilot’s legs he couldn’t reach him and Quatre’s plea was unheeded. Trowa leaned his head down and placed his cheek on the clothed arousal, then started licking the jeans, making sure to keep one eye on Quatre’s reaction. But because Trowa had to release his hold on Quatre’s wrists in order to bend his head down (he wasn’t that flexible ;D) Quatre’s hands were already tangled in Trowa’s hair and pushing him down farther, his head thrown back and moaning loudly, almost loud enough to be heard above the window-rattling techno music.

Trowa continued to lick and nuzzle at the jean, languidly gripping the jean’s zipper with his teeth and pulling it all the way down, then licking inside the exposed hole. Quatre was growling and bucking his hips against Trowa’s mouth, and he had to hold down the blonde’s hips in order to continue his teasing. His own arousal had grown painfully hard, but he was not going to give up, in order to show up Quatre and piss him off. Quatre wasn’t in any position to argue anyway.

Deciding to move on, Trowa eased his tongue up above the pant line and licked a trail around his navel, then up between the abdomen muscles and back around each hardened nipple. He blew air on each, making Quatre arch his back and moan. He was trying to push the brunette’s head down again. Quatre was infuriated at Trowa for teasing him back, and not just a little teasing like he had done, but full on neglect, and that was driving him crazy. Trowa couldn’t concentrate with the hands on his head, pushing him down towards the jeans, so he gripped the blonde’s wrists and pinned them at his sides, lay his hip ontop Quatre’s and his legs on his, so he couldn’t move anymore. He really wishe hae had some bondage stuff at hand.

Trowa bowed his head and licked the salty sheen off Quatre’s collar bone, in the dip that the collar bone and shoulder made, and kissed lazily there. He sucked on the skin and nipped there, making sure that Quatre wouldn’t live the night down when he would go to work in two hours with an amazing array of kiss marks all over his neck. He snickered mentally and started sucking on the other side of his neck. Quatre was aware of what he was doing, and after trying to hold back several moans decided to skip work anyway and screw Trowa into the floor all day.

“Trowa…ohhh…I’m just not going to work tomorrow. The paperwork can wait until the next day. Screw everyone,” Quatre panted as Trowa proceeded to lick his way back down Quatre’s chest.

“Screw everyone?” His tongue dipped into his naval and his hands massaged Quatre’s thighs.

“Mmm, maybe just me for tomorrow. Orgy later.” Trowa snickered quietly and licked a wet trail along Quatre’s waist line. “Ok,” he answered, as his hands moved up the blonde’s thighs. Quatre was squirming again, and finally Trowa decided to move on. Even this teasing was getting to him.

The blonde’s formal pressed gray slacks flew off in one fluid motion, and his blood-red silky boxers right after, leaving him impatient and willing beneath Trowa. Immediately Trowa dipped his head, running his hot wet tongue in patterns around and in Quatre’s navel, making his way down the slender hip and kissing the light hairs that marked a trail down his abdomen. Instinctively Quatre arched his back, raising his hip and painfully erect arousal against Trowa’s collarbone, growling his frustration at Trowa’s inability to go faster. His fists clutched the messy sheets and he clenched his teeth, while throwing his head back when his arousal rubbed against Trowa’s naked chest. Quatre could feel the heat of the sweaty skin sting his own hot flesh.

//Ooh ee ooh ahtingting tang wala wala bing bang//

Quatre’s cries and protests grew louder when he felt Trowa tease his tip, lightly kissing the semen drops away and licking where his lips touched. Slipping past Quatre’s arousal Trowa moved on down Quatre’s thigh, nipping and kissing the tender and sensitive flesh. A loud roar from the poor blonde told him that Quatre was more than ready, and quickly raised his head, looking rather smug at the frustrated pilot beneath him. Nodding lightly he moved back up and leaned forward to catch a quick but wet tongue kiss before returning to Quatre’s hip, noticing that his hip was bucking almost involintarily now.

//You’ve been keeping love from me, just like you were a miser//

In one fluid motion Trowa engulfed the entire erection to the hilt, noisily rubbing his tongue up and down the hot length and sucking forcefully. Quatre let out a scream that ground his throat and made Trowa respond by increasing his pace, and couldn’t help but arch his back and throw his head backwards, breathing so hard he was afraid his lungs would burst. He could see only stars piercing his vision, a boiling rush of heat and constricting passion creeping its way up to his head, and now all he wanted was a white release.

As Quatre could just feel his orgasm reaching his erection Trowa withdrew his minstrations, licking his lips and looking at his victim hungrily. He didn’t want it to end with just one side being pleasured; he had his own needs as well. His already tight jeans were constricting his own painful arousal, and after briefly climbing off Quatre (with MUCH protesting from the latter) he managed to rip his jeans off that were still wet from his earlier orgasm. For a moment Quatre stopped his loud ranting to stare at Trowa, unconsciously licking his teeth and clutching the sheets. Trowa was amazingly well-endowed, and very aroused. Without another word Quatre reached for the dresser behind the head of the bed and pulled out a bottle of jasmine oil. He tossed it to Trowa, eyeing him expectantly, and rather hungrily.

The tall pilot chuckled behind his breath and caught the offering, easing back onto the bed to steal another sloppy and deep kiss before resting back on his heels. Quatre had already lifted his legs, and was growling his impatience with increasing volume. Gently Trowa eased himself under the knees of Quatre’s legs, easing himself closer to Quatre’s hip and steadying himself with his hands on each side. He was going crazy, but that meant nothing if Quatre was still a virgin. He probably doesn’t know what to expect. Neither do I, Trowa thought absently to himself.

“Quatre, I’m going to go slow, whether you like it or not,” he ignored a nasty look, “I don’t know what to expect, and neither do you, I’m guessing. You’re a virgin, right?” Trowa had the most innocent look on his face, nothing but caring in his expression, though Quatre still caught the bare carnality laced within it.

“Yeah, well, god damn I am. That means the first time’s gonna suck, huh?” Quatre looked put off, and Trowa had to shake his head.

“No no, probably not. We’re just going to go slow, ok?”

“No, that’s what I mean by ‘this is gonna suck’, Trowa.”

“Oh,” Trowa replied, showing a light flush on his cheeks. Quatre was so damned horny!

//And I’ll admit I wasn’t very smart//

After deciding that he was way too big to start Quatre off with he coated his index finger with some of the oil, and slowly began to coax it into Quatre’s tight ring. At first the natural reaction was to push against his finger, and Quatre gasped at the foreign stimulus. “Relax, Quatre. I’m just trying to ease you here,” Trowa said soothingly. After waiting a moment he began again, gently pushing his finger back into the blonde, lightly caressing the textured inner walls as he went deeper. He pulled out, then pushed back in, hearing Quatre sigh, then moan loudly as he hit the back of the cavity.

“Oh, shit Trowa! Do that again, fuck, do it again!” Confused, Trowa pulled his finger back out, re-applied the oil to two fingers and inserted them again. After a few tries and a couple more fingers re wre was again bucking hard against his hand and moaning loudly. “God, aren’t you done being slow yet? Allah, I’m going to come now, and then you’ll be sorry! Dammit!” Quatre gripped himself and began pleasuring his own arousal. Growling, Trowa quickly coated himself with the last of the oil and tightly held the lurching hip against the bed while he slowly eased himself through the tight sphinter ring. The ring tighted around his own erection and he sighed at the feeling.

//So I went out and found a guy that’s so much wiser//

Quatre was almost screaming, his head wildly thrown back and his hands white from gripping the sheets and himself so hard. Trowa began to move back and forth, each time moving himself deeper. His moaning was from deep within his chest, a dark growling that sent white shocks down Quatre’s brain to the tip of his erection and he began pushing against Trowa’s hip. Trowa gradually increased his speed, pounding harder and harder into the blonde, relishing in his cries and screams every time he hit his prostate.

The two men were moving as one, moving within one another against the heavy beat of the techno music booming in the background, their cries and moans becoming essential parts of the music. Sweat gleamed and dripped from their bare flesh, spurning and increasing the feverish pace of their bodies further as both their climaxes filled deep within their bodies. A hot, blinding rush of mr crr crushing their insides and filling their lungs and screams, and finally being released in a wash of white brilliant ecstasy, their final cries feeding their orgasms. Finally joined as one in spirit, the two, spent from their exertion, slowly untensed their muscles and let the crushing pressure drain all energy from their limbs. Numb, Trowa collapsed onto the spent Quatre.

//And he taught me the way to win your heart.//

The CD finally over, the stereo abruptly stopped its deafening beat and threw the room into equally deafening silence, save the sounds of their thumping hearts and still-raspy breathing. They lay like that for what seemed like hours, Trowa comfortably sprawled ontop of Quatre, his chin tucked into the crook of the blonde’s neck and shoulder and still connected to him, but not really willing to part. Quatre sighed happily and snuggled deeper into the warmth that Trowa’s body gave off, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the last ripples of his shattering sm ssm still within his brain.

“That was amazing, Trowa. Thank you,” Quatre whispered into the chocolate-brown hair, “but what about my paperwork?” Trowa groaned and buried his face deeper.

“God, no. Hell no. You’re not going anywhere for the next week, Quatre. I’m fucking calling you in sick tomorrow. Say you got malaria or something stupid like that,” Trowa growled, tickling Quatre’s neck and making him giggle.

“Heh, just tell them I got my brains fucked out and I need time to find all the pieces again,” Quatre said, laughing into the soft hair and wrapping his arms around the tan muscular back.

“Sure. Just remember when I do you told me to say it, ok?” Quatre made a gasp when he realized Trowa was being serious and started beating his back with his fist. “Don’t you dare, Trowa Barton, or I’m making you the bottom,” Trowa smirked at this, “and you’ll be tied to the bed.”

Trowa let out a gasp and hugged Quatre closer to him. “You wouldn’t. You evil, evil lover, you.” Quatre made a happy “pah” sound and snuggled again, letting Trowa move above him until both were satisfied, and instantly fell asleep with a sated smile on his face.

Warm sunshine coursed through the small, open window, caressing both their naked bodies and causing Trowa to stir lightly. Numbly he smiled at the recollection of the night before, then, with a stretching yawn eased himself off the still sleeping blonde. Quatre rustled ontop the sheets, disliking the sudden cold on his chest and blindly began groping the air, hoping to find his new lover. Trowa chuckled, and held out his hand. When Quatre gripped it he was pulled upright, instead of pulling the tall pilot down, and protested loudly. His eyes were still mostly shut and his hair in a bushy mess, which only made Trowa laugh louder.

“Shut up, you probably look the same. Stupid, I oughta push you off the bed,” he grumbled angrily, and shifted his body to fall back on the bed, but was caught by strong arms.

“Ah ah, you are sticky and gross, so in the shower you go. Man, Quatre, do you want to look like this when your board members come here for the meeting?” Quatre’s eyes shot open and stared, shocked, at an innocently smiling Trowa. “Oh, I didn’t tell you. About a few hours ago your office called, asking where you were. I told them you weren’t up to coming in this morning, but since they told me you had a rather important meeting in the afternoon I agreed to let it be hosted in your house. Hope you don’t mind,” he added, smiling smugly and nimbly avoiding a bruising punch.

“Trowa, you ass! When are they supposed to be here?!” Trowa glanced at the clock on Quatre’s work table.

“Um, if I remember correctly, in a little less than half an hour.”

“Shit! You’re so fucking dead, Barton! See if we do this anymore! God damn, I’m going to kill you!” Leaping out of bed Quatre ran towards the bathroom, streaming curses in both english and arabic as he went. After Trowa heard the door slam shut, he calmly got out of the bed and walked to Quatre’s bedroom, where he began to sort through the many suits in his closet, picking out one that would do for the day’s warm weather, then walked to the laundryroom, where Quatre’s towel hung. He heard a muffled ring in his pocket and grumbled to himself as he answered his cellphone. It was the professors, namely, H.

"Where are you Barton? You and Winner should both be right here right now! Or did you forget, huh? Both of you need to be here, as this is a very important--" Trowa cut him off curtly and with a roll of his eyes.

"Sorry, H, Quatre's not feeling too great, so i'm here making sure he doesn't get worse. Heero, Duo, and Wufei can manage fine. I'll talk when Quatre's better," he said, then cut the call without hearing H's heated cursing and defiance speeches. Eh, tending to Quatre definitely is more important, he thought with a small smile and a curved brow.

As he was walking towards the bathroom he heard yet more curses for the water, the tub, the shower head, the shampoo, and finally, the lack of a towel.

“GOD DAMNIT, WHERE’S MY F-ING TOWEL?!” Camly Trowa leaned against the door.

“Open the door, love, and I’ll give it to you,” he said with a deep, teasing voice. He heard more growling from inside and couldn’t help lauglaugh. Quatre yanked the door open unexpectedly, and with a surprised yelp fell inside onto the floor, still holding the towel and suit. Quatre stood above him, dripping wet and still entirely naked.

“Dammit, stop playing around Barton! Why don’t you—hey, ow, stop it, whoa!” Trowa had grabbed Quatre’s legs, pulling him down towards his face. Their noses barely touched. Gently Trowa grasped the back of Quatre’s neck and, before Quatre could protest, pulled him down until their lips touched. For minutes they remained there, kissing deeply in the bathroom doorway, until Trowa let go of Quatre’s neck and paused.

“Love you, babe. You know, that Witch Doctor is mighty powerful, huh? We oughta prescribe some to Duo and Heero.” Both of them burst out laughing at the thought of Heero dancing to the song. After their laughter finally died down Quatre straighted up, standing again, but with his towel. Trowa sat up so he was seated just outside the doorframe.

“K, love, I’m gonna dry off. If the guys come early, stall them with a lap dance or something, ok? But don’t do anything too saucy, I want the best parts for myself,” Quatre said, winking and grinning before turning back into the bathroom and closing the door.

Trowa smiled at that, and after seriously contemplating the lap dances, got up to put on some clothes, all the while humming Witch Doctor and thinking of an erotic dancing Quatre.


--fiN

Whoo, after almost a year of starting the story I finish! Damn straight, in your face, high school! WHOO! anyway, it’s my first actual lemon, so excellent, and I’m not doing that ever fuggin again, unless you guys think it was actually readable….oO whatever. anyway, it’s 3:30am and I’m ready to retire. excellent.