Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Arabian Nights ❯ Arabian Nights ( One-Shot )

Arabian Nights

Author: slidetackle

Pairing: 3x4, suggested 1x2

Warnings: Yaoi, Lemon, Semi-sap

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Well. I'm not gaining anything from this other than amusement. (in other words, no $$) And no, they're not mine. >__< !

 

Quatre shifted once again in his sleep. He'd been lying awake for a long time, which he could not find a reason for, as he was snuggled deep into his counterpart's calming arms. He tried once again to reposition himself.

 

“Quatre?” Trowa murmured to the dark, probably as a result of the blonde's incessant fidgeting.

 

Quatre rolled over to look at the brunette.

 

“I'm sorry, Trowa,” he stammered, amazed at how good-looking Trowa could be no matter what he was doing. “It's weird....I..I can't sleep.”

 

Trowa just offered his small smile.

 

“I know how you feel—”

 

“And you just weren't going to say anything?” Quatre tried to pout, but it was nearly impossible due to the heat emanating from his companion's body.

 

Trowa nodded.

 

“Want to go on a walk?” he suggested.

 

“Sounds like a good idea,” the Arabian replied, standing up to put on his t-shirt. Trowa just held a large blanket as he watched the other dress.

 

“You're not going to—”

 

“No one else is awake,” Trowa quietly reminded him, stepping closer.

 

The blonde felt Trowa's calm breathing make its lonesome trek across his skin.

 

“Let's go,” the green-eyed young man said, and draped both arm and blanket around Quatre's shoulders.

 

They stepped out of the back door and onto the desert sand, and Trowa moved his hand to Quatre's waist, as he took in the state of the night.

 

The moon was full and its reddish light poured over each minute grain of sand while caressing the pair's uncovered skin with timid touches.

 

“I've never seen such an amazing night,” Trowa voiced.

 

“I know,” Quatre agreed. “There's a beautiful place that's not too far from here. Not many people bother to stop there because they're afraid that it's a mirage. I suppose…it's an oasis…my own little piece of paradise…”Quatre broke off, turning to look into Trowa's gaze.

 

“Can we go there?” asked Trowa. “To paradise?”

 

“Yes…yes, we can.”

 

 

Quatre situated himself in front of Trowa, who was controlling the horse. He leaned back into the warmth that Trowa's arms constantly offered to him. The blonde sighed. It was a fact that the two had been taken with each other since the day they'd walked into the other's presence. He and Trowa had finally discovered one another's feelings not too long ago, almost four weeks. They had been sent on a mission together and Trowa had stumbled through the door late one night. With the intention of caring for the wounded pilot, Quatre removed all of Trowa's clothing, except for his boxers, and discovered an array of injuries of varying degrees. A sprained wrist and broken rib on his right and a largely swollen and bruised left knee, coupled with exhaustion, brought Trowa crashing down as soon as he reached the security of their safehouse.

 

Quatre remembered himself shout his partner's name and hysterically check for his heartbeat. Once he had the pulse, he calmed and began tending to his patient.

 

He had cried as he worked over Trowa's body. His fingers shook and his breath became ragged as he removed the turtleneck, trousers, shoes and socks. He remembered falling victim to the most exciting yet enraging sensations as the brunette's body became unveiled at his hands. Trowa's body was flawless. He sat, staring at the one who had captured him and captivated him since they had met. He had wanted to see those jade depths open so badly. He was not able to stand the temptation any longer. He lightly placed his lips to Trowa's, then pulled away.

 

He grabbed a blanket from the far side of the room and made sure Trowa's limbs were safely positioned. Then he crawled into the bed and lay against Trowa's left side, an arm draped lightly across Trowa's torso. Just before he fell within the grasp of the subconscious, he leaned in close to the pilot's ear and said aloud, “I love you, Trowa Barton.” Then he closed his eyes, and finally drifted to sleep through his tears.

 

When he woke up the next morning, he felt the rise and fall of Trowa's chest and sighed, ecstatic that he had slept next to such beauty yet sad that it had to end.

 

Quatre checked to make sure that the Heavyarms pilot's wounds were alright and decided to step outside.

 

Fall had taken its toll, and the environment was responding appropriately. A cold breeze swept across his face and passed through his golden tresses. He jumped when he heard leaves crackle on the ground behind him. Quatre turned, and saw Trowa limping determinedly toward him as the wind picked up, still clad only in his boxers.

 

Quatre started over to him.

 

“Trowa, what are you doing out here?” he questioned. “It's too cold for you—”

 

“That isn't important,” Trowa interrupted, his voice slightly hoarse. He paused, then continued.

 

“Did you mean that?”

 

“What—” Quatre said automatically, then choked as realization hit him, tears forming in his eyes. “I'm so sorry, Trowa, oh god, I know you don't—”

 

“Just answer me,” Trowa said desperately, but weakly, as he rested his hands tiredly on Quatre's shoulders. “Did you mean any of it?”

 

Quatre sniffed once and looked straight into Trowa's eyes.

 

“Yes…” he said quietly, then averted his gaze. “I meant every word—”

 

The blonde turned as a sob wracked his body.

 

Though Quatre did not know it at the time, Trowa's eyes had widened. It was beyond his wildest dreams, his most extreme fantasies. Everything he had dreamt of was falling into place.

 

After his initial shock, Trowa staggered forward and wrapped his arms around the blonde's shoulder and waist. “I'll never leave,” he promised, whispering lightly into Quatre's ear. “I think—no. I know—I'm in love with you.”

 

Quatre was overcome by Trowa's words, and a tear slid down his cheek.

 

 

The young Arabian remembered it well. He looked upon it as the most important part of his life.

 

“Quatre,” Trowa said, pulling him out of his reverie. “Is that it up ahead?” he asked, pointing toward a dark silhouette in the distance.

 

“Yes, that's it. We're here already?”

 

“It seems so.”

 

 

The two dismounted and stepped back onto the sand. It was warmer in this region but Quatre drew the blanket closer still as he watched Trowa tie the horse to a nearby tree.

 

They began walking up a very lightly-treaded path, now feeling occasional grass under their feet. As they peacefully passed under the trees, Quatre wondered about Heero and Duo, and what they were doing at the moment.

 

The Deathscythe and Wing pilots had been together for a few weeks longer than he and Trowa, but no one knew about it at first because they had wanted to keep the matter undisclosed.

 

It stayed that way until one night, when Trowa and Quatre returned early from a mission. They had been conversing about something probably very important at the time, but said matter immediately lost priority when they walked in on the other pair “in the act.”

 

Duo had fallen off the couch with a shriek while Heero stood straight up, holding a pillow somewhat over his crotch, then started into what Quatre could only guess was a long list of Japanese swear words.

 

Once Duo and Heero were properly covered, the two embarrassed intruders apologized profusely.

 

They were forgiven directly and soon, the truth came out, much to the intruders' envy. Trowa's and Quatre's feelings for one another still weren't out in the open at that point, as they wished them to be.

 

Quatre sighed contently. Their feelings were now common knowledge, and they were exceedingly happy for that. They hadn't, however, consummated their relationship, but they knew that they didn't have to rush. They had however much time they needed. Not to mention that it would be the first time for both of them.

 

Quatre turned to his left and found himself looking down a sloping hillside that ended in twinkling water, reflecting the moon and stars in all their glory. Quatre turned to look at Trowa as the couple came to a stop. As he expected, his eyes met a vision far more exquisite than the stellar reflection.

 

Trowa's eyes were already looking down to his. This small action fueled the fire of raw passion inside of Quatre, and he trembled at the feeling.

 

“Are you allright?” Trowa asked, noticing Quatre's shiver. He pulled Quatre closer to him under the blanket and wrapped his arms around him, setting his chin on the blonde's crown.

 

“Yeah,” the smaller of the two said quietly.

 

At that moment, the feeling Quatre was experiencing reached a greater intensity. It was Trowa. He could feel his partner's mounting desire in addition to his own. The awesome empathic senses that were telling him this made his body throb. This would be the end of him for sure, but he knew what he had to do. He knew what they both wanted, knew what they were both ready for—

 

“Do you still want to go to paradise?”

 

A sharp breath was drawn.

 

“You don't know how badly—”

 

The blanket fell to the ground as their lips met and fused themselves together. Trowa's arms encircled his waist and brought Quatre closer to him as the blonde ran his hands over every inch of Trowa he could reach.

 

His hands settled in Trowa's hair as the two kissed. The feelings that he and Trowa were experiencing pressed in on Quatre. Wrapped up in the emotions, Quatre didn't feel his knees give out.

 

Trowa did though, and lifted Quatre, the blonde wrapping his legs around his waist. Quatre pulled his lips away slightly, saying what he had wanted to say for so long..

 

“Make love to me, Trowa-”

 

Quatre felt the steadiness of the ground on his back as he was laid on the blanket. He put his mouth on Trowa's neck, causing his partner to emit a low moan.

 

Trowa was slowly beginning to lose all sense of reason. The only thing he was aware of was the Quatre's shirt was still on his body, which he then decided to rid his partner of.

 

The warm breeze washed over Quatre's body as his shirt left him. Trowa covered Quatre's lips with his own, looped an arm around the boy's waist, and brought their bodies together.

 

Their erections met in a lasting stroke. Quatre realized just then how big Trowa was, causing him to quake in anticipation. He reached for Trowa's red waistband and tugged.

 

Quatre's eyes moved over the entire expanse of what was Trowa. His slightly darker skin on his own, the long fingers clutching his waist, the muscles formed during the years of being a Gundam pilot…It reminded him of Trowa..the first time that he saw him…Trowa was so amazing….Quatre felt hot tears beginning to form. He pulled Trowa's head down and pushed his tongue into the awaiting mouth, passing his tongue over every surface he came into contact with while Trowa cast away his own white boxers, leaving no further obstructions as their yearn to satisfy each other overtook them.

 

The two broke the kiss, starved of air, breathing heavily as they looked into each other's eyes.

 

Trowa felt Quatre's hand on his own and whimpered as Quatre took his fingers into his mouth.

 

Quatre worked his tongue around the digits, lathering them as quickly as possible. He could see the carnal desire held in check in Trowa's eyes.

 

Their patience was rapidly waning.

 

He let go of Trowa's fingers and felt their presence at his entrance. At first the touch was awkward and tinged slightly with pain, but after a few minutes, he became accustomed to the intrusion, and not much later was uncontrollably responding to Trowa's ministrations.

 

“Pleeease Trowa,” he heard himself say.

 

Trowa could only determinedly shake his head.

 

“I don't want to hurt you--”

 

“You won't…I need you…”

 

The fingers left him and were replaced by Trowa's arousal.

 

“Tell me..if…I—”

 

“I will,” Quatre gasped, running a hand through brown hair as he reassured his love.

 

Trowa slowly began to immerse himself. He was aware of the difference in size and hoped that his attempt to prepare Quatre would suffice. Soon, he was completely sheathed and paused.

 

Quatre reveled at the feel of Trowa's hard length inside of him. They were made for each other. They were together. He could finally understand the meaning of the word complete.

 

Trowa moved shallowly at first, and slowly progressed to deeper thrusts. He lost more control each time, hearing the moans emitted from both of them. This was their first time, and though it would be short, the fact remained that they were together. Their coupling was a fire quick-lit, but eternal to burn.

 

Trowa felt himself rapidly approaching climax and though he wanted this to last longer, there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.

 

He reached downward and wrapped his hand around Quatre's length and stroked him in the same rhythm as his own.

 

Quatre felt his partner take hold of his, until recently, neglected member. After a few strokes, Quatre peaked and came as he breathlessly whispered Trowa's name into his ear.

 

Trowa acknowledged Quatre's body tense; he heard and felt Quatre breathe his name into his ear.

 

At that moment, his mind went blank, and he reached into the blonde hair while groaning Quatre's name to the night.

 

There was a pleasant weight on Quatre as he came back to reality. Trowa's tanned body beautifully sprawled over his own fair skin, long fingers wrapped in his hair.

 

Trowa dislodged himself from Quatre and looked up at his partner before raising himself on one elbow and kissing him soundly again.

 

The blonde indulged in the taste of Trowa's mouth as he seized the side of the blanket they weren't occupying and brought it over their bodies.

 

That night, he lost himself in the desert, in the love of Trowa Barton, for what would not be the first, or last, time.