Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Arabian Nights ❯ Chapter1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Gundam Wing or its bishounen, nor am I making any monetary profit from this fic whatsoever.

Pairings: 3 x4
Warnings: yaoi, sap, lemon



Please read and review.


Enjoy!






Quatre awoke surrounded by a delicious warmth. He sighed contentedly, burrowing deeper into the cocoon of warmth. He lay in a tangle of limbs, head resting comfortably on his lover's broad chest and one of his thighs wrapped securely around Trowa's own long, lean, limb. The steady rise and fall of the auburn-haired youth's chest and the soft tickle of his breath against the downy golden curls on Quatre's forehead indicated that his partner was deeply asleep. Slowly, carefully, so as to not awaken him, he disentangled himself from his lover's embrace.

Lover…

The thought alone was enough to send a quiet thrill through him. The memories of the day were burned into his memory and he could scarcely wait to map the sweet territory of his koi's body. Even now, he could feel the dull throb of desire burning low in his belly.


Darkness had completely fallen, and but for the faint whisper of the wind and the soft murmur of Trowa's breathing, the room was utterly still. The soft muted light of the moon spilled into the room and onto the bed, bathing the sleeping pilot in its pale, iridescent glow. Quatre had watched Trowa sleep many a night, and as such, was utterly familiar with the soft, relaxed expression - so different from the calm stoicism of wakefulness - and the sensuous lips, slightly parted, lending an air of vulnerability to the austere features. But after the beautiful events of the afternoon, he thrilled to the knowledge of a different kind of vulnerability: points, which had the emerald-eyed pilot gasping and arching beneath his touch. A kind of excitement twisted through him, and moaning softly, he contemplated the possibilities of finding other such spots that would spiral his lover's pleasure.


His fingers ghosted over the delicate skin of Trowa's eyelids to the thick, auburn lashes that were longer than even his own. When the slender youth twitched but did not awaken, he continued his gentle exploration, memorizing the aristocratic slant of Trowa's nose, the soft downturn of his mouth and the stubble-roughened texture of his jaw. He traced the lithe, graceful, line of Trowa's upraised arm, down to the muscular pads of his chest, clearly delineated by the upturn of his arm and framed by the gleaming folds of the gaping, white, cotton shirt. The blonde's lips whispered over the bulge of a bicep, fascinated by the contrast of the velvety skin and the taut power lying quiescent beneath it. The silky tuft of hair nestled in Trowa's armpit was baby-soft and slightly darker than the hair on his head, much the same color as the dark auburn curls at his lover's groin, peeking through the grinning metal snaps of his jeans. The small, rose-brown nubs of Trowa's nipples were puckered slightly from the cool night air and he remembered Trowa's hands on his flesh and the emerald-eyed man's own soft moans of pleasure when he had teased him with his hands and mouth. Watching the taller man for signs of wakefulness, he circled one dusky nubbin with the tip of his finger, delighting when it puckered even further - rosy flesh firmly erect and pouting, beckoning another such caress. Wholly absorbed in, and fascinated by the delights of his lover's body, the gentle Arabian fingered the pointed center of the aroused nubbin, pressing the velvet flesh lightly. This time, he was rewarded with the restless shifting of Trowa's body and a stream of incoherent murmurs bubbling from the brunette's lips. Further encouraged, his mouth descended on the tender bud, surrounding it with a moist heat and creating a gentle suction. Trowa moaned softly, his fingers blindly tangling in the soft platinum strands of Quatre's hair as pleasure burst and shimmered, luring him out of the darkness of sleep. Delighted by throaty sounds of his lover's passion, the blonde lifted his head, blowing a stream of air over the glistening nub as the pads of slender fingers simultaneously caressed and teased the sensitive aureole of its partner.


Trowa's eyes fluttered open, dark centers dilated as he blearily focused on the slender figure before him. His body, however, registered very clearly the rings of pleasure expanding from Quatre's touch as he continued his gentle assault on his flesh.

"Quatre," he groaned, voice husky from sleep and arousal.
"What are you…ah!…doing?"

The diminutive blonde's only answer was a soft sound of desire as his hands moved to peel the jeans off his lover's long legs. Tugging gently, he pulled the offending garment down and off. Trowa's breath hissed though his teeth as the hardened proof of his arousal sprung free, demanding attention. Soft palms pressed into the corded strength of Trowa's thighs as Quatre sensuously massaged and kneaded the taut flesh. His mouth dropped down to Trowa's flushed skin, the soft words of desire murmured against his love's skin, as much a caress as the gentle kisses showered on the sensitive flesh of Trowa's inner thighs. Caught in the haze of passion, Trowa almost missed the whisper-soft words that gusted past the blonde's lips.

"Love you… so…much."
"I…want…" his fingers traced the taut spheres of Trowa's testicles, then trailed upwards to dip into the tiny well of his navel "let…me..."


"Yes, yes," Trowa whispered, not caring that he didn't know what the blonde was asking.


He would never…could never, deny Quatre anything, and observing the blonde's slack features and heightened breathing, his vow was reaffirmed many times over. The Arabian's eyes were closed, soft moans escaping his lips as he memorized the grooves and curves of the long muscles of Trowa's thighs. Emerald pools darkened, verdant irises almost completely eclipsed by the dilated centers as the auburn-haired man watched, amazed, that the simple consummation of skin against skin could reduce the blonde to such a state of rapture. A helpless shudder raced along his spine as a thousand more ways by which he could have the blonde moaning and shuddering, danced around in his brain. The thought alone was enough to draw an involuntary groan from his lips. Quatre was a devastating combination of shy innocence and an unconscious, burning sensuality that crumbled his defenses. The awakening of the blonde's sexuality was the most erotic thing he had ever experienced. He wanted nothing more than to take his gentle lover into his arms and ravish all of that porcelain -fine, sweetly responsive flesh. He understood, however, that this was Quatre's time to indulge and explore - to test the depths of his own burning, burgeoning sexuality.

Quatre's golden head dipped until it was level with Trowa's groin. He could feel the smooth, hard column of Trowa's erection prodding his throat, and he moved lower, the pink rasp of his tongue tracing his lover's engorged length. His fingers bit into the suddenly tense muscles of Trowa's thighs as he felt the sudden arching of the slender man's body as well as heard the strangled moan that rattled through his teeth. The soft sounds of the brunette's passion intensified his own arousal; heat pooling and gathering until his flesh was painfully erect. The heady musk of Trowa's arousal filled his senses, sharp and elemental, and he was overcome by the urge to be joined with his lover in every way possible.

Trowa watched as Quatre moved to straddle his hips, breath unraveling and the pale columns of slender thighs trembling as arousal met arousal. The blonde seemed to be of two minds: seemingly unable to decide whether he wanted to take or be taken. The feel of Quatre's erection trapped against his own sent Trowa's senses spinning. It took every ounce of the brunette's control not to rock upwards. His jaw clenched as he attempted to still the clamoring of his body. This was Quatre's show; he would endure it even if it killed him.

Quatre's hands clenched in the sheets and his head lolled on his neck, a guttural moan escaping his lips as his hips set a helpless rhythm, sure of what he wanted, but uncertain as to how to achieve the goal. Pleasure rocked and radiated from their heated point of contact, leaving both men gasping. For a moment, the world narrowed to the heat of their bodies, the silky slide of skin against skin and the erotic movements of the blonde's body.


When Quatre's movements became more frantic, and the blonde was shuddering helplessly above him, Trowa held the blonde's hips in a sensuous vise, stilling his movements and taking control of the pace. His control threatened to completely unravel, however, when the Arabian twisted in his grasp, a frustrated cry bursting from his lips as he struggled to maintain the delicious friction. Trowa's superior strength won out however, and his grip on the blonde remained firm. Deftly he switched their positions so that Quatre lay panting prettily beneath him. He laced his fingers in the blondes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Look at me Little One."


The normally placid aquamarine eyes fluttered open, unfocused and deeply sapphire from arousal. He rained kisses on Quatre's face and jaw; the smooth column of his neck; soft, butterfly kisses intended to calm the blonde down and slow the pace of their lovemaking. When it seemed that Quatre had calmed down somewhat, he captured the Arabian's wrists, raising them over the blonde's head and holding them lightly in place with one hand. His lips captured a pouting nipple, suckling and then nibbling lightly until whimpers fell from Quatre's lips, and his golden head thrashed back and forth on the pillow. Trowa moved to the other nipple bestowing it with the same treatment and the blonde arched off the bed moaning, the torture only serving to intensify the ache of his violently aroused flesh.

"Trowa…pplease…"
"Please… I need…"




At the softly spoken plea Trowa released the blonde's wrists, gazing into the limpid pools of his eyes.

"Tell me what you need Love."


A wave of heat coursed through Quatre's body, delicious and shocking in its intensity. He wanted more than anything to be joined with Trowa in the most elemental way possible - to hold his lover deep within his body- to give and receive pleasure in the most intimate union of all.

His mouth opened to tell his lover of his desire, but Trowa's intense emerald gaze unnerved him, and all he could manage was an abortive whisper.

"I…"

Embarrassed, he turned his face into the pillow, a faint blush blooming beneath the porcelain skin.

/ Allah, it had been so much easier to say in his mind. /


Gently, Trowa turned Quatre back to face him. When he spoke his voice was soft but insistent.

"What do you need baby?"


The low timbre of Trowa's voice, and the mesmerizing green of his gaze pinned Quatre in place. The emotion he could see swirling in that emerald gaze took his breath away. He wanted this man more than anything in his life - needed him more than breath itself and the emotion smoldering in the darkened depths of his lover's eyes - desire, love and the promise of pleasure, was enough to make him forget his virginal shyness for the moment. He raised a trembling hand to trace Trowa's lips. Aquamarine irises locked with emerald.

"I want to feel you inside of me."
"Make love to me please Trowa."