Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Arabian Nights ❯ Chapter2 ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Michalyn 
Quatre indulges in some sensual exploration.The sequel to "When It Rains".
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.14.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 838 | Status: Completed
Quatre indulges in some sensual exploration.The sequel to "When It Rains".
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.14.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 838 | Status: Completed
Okay i know it's supposed to have 2 parts but this part was getting a little long so i've broken it up into two parts. Gomen ^_^;;
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
/..../ denotes Quatre's thoughts
[....] denote's Trowa's thoughts
Please read and review.
Enjoy!
"I want to feel you inside of me."
"Make love to me please Trowa."
He had wanted this for so long, had yearned to share this with Quatre - the intimate giving and taking of their bodies, the slide of heated flesh into tight warmth -that the soft plea was enough to send a shudder racing along Trowa's spine. To have Quatre so hotly and sweetly surrendering to him was almost too much to bear. The deep yearning he felt in his chest in that single moment had nothing to do with lust and everything to with love - the desire to cherish - to protect the pale, moon-luminous figure beneath him. The kiss with which he claimed the blonde's softly parted lips was fiercely possessive and would have been bruising in its intensity had Quatre not been responding with the same fervor. He stole into the soft recess of the Arabian's mouth, tongue dipping into the slick well of his lower lip, tracing the smooth surface and tiny serrations of small, perfect teeth. The honeyed heat of Quatre's mouth, the slick glide of his tongue battling his own - there was nothing he didn't notice about the blonde in that moment: his soft scent: roses and sandalwood and the intoxicating musk of arousal, the salt of his skin, the way he gave a little cry when Trowa's hands slid beneath his back, holding him arched beneath him as his tongue circled a pebbly nipple, the contours of his chest, the tiny well of a navel.
The warm bar of Trowa's muscular forearm supported Quatre, while the long, lean fingers of his other hand sought the juncture of pale, muscular thighs. His fingers curled around the blonde's hardened length- savoring slick heat of silk over steel. Quatre's lifeblood throbbed visibly beneath the surface and he traced the vein from base to swollen tip, fingers finding the perfect, plum-shaped head, dragging across the sensitive slit, spreading the slick moisture collecting there. Quatre's hoarse cry he captured with his mouth, nibbling at the wine-dark, wine-sweet lips, even as he began to smoothly stroke the blonde. The first time was always difficult and instinctively he knew the blonde would be deliciously small and tight He hoped that bringing Quatre to ecstasy first would relax him, helping to counter the discomfort he would inevitably feel at their joining. He wanted to make this experience pleasurable for them both - even more so for his love. He would never forgive himself if the blonde were hurt - by any means - through fault on his part.
Trowa continued the firm, relentless stroking, eyes fixed on the Quatre's slack features. He could tell that the Arabian was close from the lolling of his head against the bar of his arm, the frantic movements of his slender hips and the hitched suffix of a moan he gave with each exhalation.
Quatre arched helplessly in his lover's arms, hips slamming upwards to meet the brunette's strokes. He knew nothing but the haze of passion and the caress of Trowa's hands and mouth on his body leaving a fiery trail of desire in their wake. The blonde's posture exposed the smooth, pale column of his throat and bending Trowa sipped at the pulse beating there, nibbled the soft flesh at the hollow of his winged collar-bones, then soothed the gentle love-bites with his tongue as he migrated ever downwards. Teeth raked a rigid nipple and Quatre abruptly climaxed, crying out sharply as he spilled silky strands of semen between them.
He cradled Quatre's soft weight in his arms, as the blonde was held in the grip of ecstasy, waiting for the tempest to subside, before lowering the blonde to the bed and reluctantly pulling away. He needed to find something that could be used as lubricant. He had wanted this for so long and yet here he was - unprepared. He made a mental note to remedy that situation as soon as possible. For now, however, they would have to improvise.
Quatre made a questioning sound of protest, hand snaking out to capture Trowa's wrist, preventing retreat. Trowa released himself from the blonde's gentle grip, placing a soft kiss on the inside of the Arabian's wrist.
"I want you more than anything Angel, but I don't want to hurt you. I need to find something that will make my entry easier for you."
Quatre didn't think he could get the next words out without his cheeks spontaneously combusting.
"Trowa…um the nightstand…left drawer.
Quizzically, the brunette pulled out the drawer in question and reached inside, fingers searching until they landed upon…a tube of lubricant? An elegant auburn eyebrow arched smoothly upward. He looked at the blonde questioningly, amusement dancing in his emerald eyes as he read the label aloud.
""Arabian Nights"…Now in new kiwi flavor?"
Quatre blushed and stammered.
"I ah-- that is-I thought that we might-you know- that I …"
Groaning, he rolled over, burying his flaming face in the pillow.
/Allah, how was it that he managed to get himself into these situations? /
Chuckling softly, Trowa bent to nuzzle the soft hairs at the nape of Quatre's neck.
"Gomen nasai koi," he whispered, lips caressing the tender skin as he spoke, "I wasn't aware that you were fond of kiwi."
"Mmph mmph mmph."
Quatre gave a muffled sound of humiliation and if possible, burrowed even further into the bedclothes, refusing to turn over.
Though the blonde's position hid what Trowa most wished to see, he didn't mind. The lean, tapering lines of Quatre's torso and the firm globes of his buttocks were equally sweet territory. He mouthed the velvety flesh over a delicate vertebra, following the graceful line of the Arabian's neck and the groove of his spine. The blonde's muffled sounds of pleasure could be heard, and smiling against the porcelain skin, he rounded he curve of each smooth buttock in turn, nipping the firm flesh lightly, causing Quatre' to jump.
"Oh!"
The wet rasp of Trowa's tongue traced the shadowed cleft between the twin globes and Quatre let out a startled gasp and tried to squirm away from the lazy caress.
Surely Trowa wasn't going to…
What he was thinking was…no… he wouldn't.
Trowa kneaded the pliable flesh gently. Cupping the soft cheeks he parted them so that the tiny rosy sphincter nestled between the pale globes was bared to his gaze. He paused to admire the erotic sight before bending to wetly circle the rosy pucker. The tiny ring of muscle clenched and relaxed and Quatre whimpered even as his hips thrust unconsciously backwards to meet the touch.
The turgid tip of Trowa's tongue slid just past the ring of muscle, stretching it ever so slightly. Quatre's eyes flew wide with shock. "Allah!" His strangled voice rose an octave.
"Trowa-- don't."
"Stop!"
Heedless, the slick squirm of the brunette's tongue returned, this time pushing even further past the puckered ring into the tight channel. The pleasure of it rocked the blonde even as the slight pressure hinted at discomfort.
"Nnnnn…Trow-ah!"
The taller pilot's arm slid beneath Quatre's hips, lifting him so that he knelt on all fours on the bed. Spreading the trembling thighs even further, his head dropped back to between the parted globes, tongue busily at work. By the time he was done, Quatre was drawing deep shuddering breaths and the only thing holding him upright was the warm bar of Trowa's forearm. The brunette's own aroused flesh throbbed painfully, but he was determined to sufficiently prepare the blonde for what was to come.
Turning the blonde over onto his back once more, he raised a slender leg over his shoulder; the other he wrapped around his waist. A long, well-lubricated finger slid slowly and deeply into the tight passage. Even after his previous attentions, Quatre couldn't help the startled cry that escaped his lips and the sudden clamping of his muscles around Trowa's probing finger. Tremors assailed the blonde as he tried to assimilate the sudden intrusion. It wasn't yet painful, but the persistent pressure bordered on discomfort. All was forgotten however with the slow thrust of that finger, creating a nameless yearning that made him want something…more. Soon the thrust of that digit was followed by a second and a third. Tears smarted behind his closed eyelids.
/Allah it burned! /
He hadn't realized that he was making soft sounds and whimpers until he heard Trowa murmuring soothingly.
"Shhh, it's okay love. I'll take care of it."
The inexorable thrust of those three fingers returned, probing for the tender gland of the blonde's prostate. Slender fingers curled inward and a wild cry burst from Quatre's lips.
[Ah right there.]
Trowa moaned at the blonde's impassioned outburst feeling the last of his control beginning to fray. He could wait no longer.
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
/..../ denotes Quatre's thoughts
[....] denote's Trowa's thoughts
Please read and review.
Enjoy!
"I want to feel you inside of me."
"Make love to me please Trowa."
He had wanted this for so long, had yearned to share this with Quatre - the intimate giving and taking of their bodies, the slide of heated flesh into tight warmth -that the soft plea was enough to send a shudder racing along Trowa's spine. To have Quatre so hotly and sweetly surrendering to him was almost too much to bear. The deep yearning he felt in his chest in that single moment had nothing to do with lust and everything to with love - the desire to cherish - to protect the pale, moon-luminous figure beneath him. The kiss with which he claimed the blonde's softly parted lips was fiercely possessive and would have been bruising in its intensity had Quatre not been responding with the same fervor. He stole into the soft recess of the Arabian's mouth, tongue dipping into the slick well of his lower lip, tracing the smooth surface and tiny serrations of small, perfect teeth. The honeyed heat of Quatre's mouth, the slick glide of his tongue battling his own - there was nothing he didn't notice about the blonde in that moment: his soft scent: roses and sandalwood and the intoxicating musk of arousal, the salt of his skin, the way he gave a little cry when Trowa's hands slid beneath his back, holding him arched beneath him as his tongue circled a pebbly nipple, the contours of his chest, the tiny well of a navel.
The warm bar of Trowa's muscular forearm supported Quatre, while the long, lean fingers of his other hand sought the juncture of pale, muscular thighs. His fingers curled around the blonde's hardened length- savoring slick heat of silk over steel. Quatre's lifeblood throbbed visibly beneath the surface and he traced the vein from base to swollen tip, fingers finding the perfect, plum-shaped head, dragging across the sensitive slit, spreading the slick moisture collecting there. Quatre's hoarse cry he captured with his mouth, nibbling at the wine-dark, wine-sweet lips, even as he began to smoothly stroke the blonde. The first time was always difficult and instinctively he knew the blonde would be deliciously small and tight He hoped that bringing Quatre to ecstasy first would relax him, helping to counter the discomfort he would inevitably feel at their joining. He wanted to make this experience pleasurable for them both - even more so for his love. He would never forgive himself if the blonde were hurt - by any means - through fault on his part.
Trowa continued the firm, relentless stroking, eyes fixed on the Quatre's slack features. He could tell that the Arabian was close from the lolling of his head against the bar of his arm, the frantic movements of his slender hips and the hitched suffix of a moan he gave with each exhalation.
Quatre arched helplessly in his lover's arms, hips slamming upwards to meet the brunette's strokes. He knew nothing but the haze of passion and the caress of Trowa's hands and mouth on his body leaving a fiery trail of desire in their wake. The blonde's posture exposed the smooth, pale column of his throat and bending Trowa sipped at the pulse beating there, nibbled the soft flesh at the hollow of his winged collar-bones, then soothed the gentle love-bites with his tongue as he migrated ever downwards. Teeth raked a rigid nipple and Quatre abruptly climaxed, crying out sharply as he spilled silky strands of semen between them.
He cradled Quatre's soft weight in his arms, as the blonde was held in the grip of ecstasy, waiting for the tempest to subside, before lowering the blonde to the bed and reluctantly pulling away. He needed to find something that could be used as lubricant. He had wanted this for so long and yet here he was - unprepared. He made a mental note to remedy that situation as soon as possible. For now, however, they would have to improvise.
Quatre made a questioning sound of protest, hand snaking out to capture Trowa's wrist, preventing retreat. Trowa released himself from the blonde's gentle grip, placing a soft kiss on the inside of the Arabian's wrist.
"I want you more than anything Angel, but I don't want to hurt you. I need to find something that will make my entry easier for you."
Quatre didn't think he could get the next words out without his cheeks spontaneously combusting.
"Trowa…um the nightstand…left drawer.
Quizzically, the brunette pulled out the drawer in question and reached inside, fingers searching until they landed upon…a tube of lubricant? An elegant auburn eyebrow arched smoothly upward. He looked at the blonde questioningly, amusement dancing in his emerald eyes as he read the label aloud.
""Arabian Nights"…Now in new kiwi flavor?"
Quatre blushed and stammered.
"I ah-- that is-I thought that we might-you know- that I …"
Groaning, he rolled over, burying his flaming face in the pillow.
/Allah, how was it that he managed to get himself into these situations? /
Chuckling softly, Trowa bent to nuzzle the soft hairs at the nape of Quatre's neck.
"Gomen nasai koi," he whispered, lips caressing the tender skin as he spoke, "I wasn't aware that you were fond of kiwi."
"Mmph mmph mmph."
Quatre gave a muffled sound of humiliation and if possible, burrowed even further into the bedclothes, refusing to turn over.
Though the blonde's position hid what Trowa most wished to see, he didn't mind. The lean, tapering lines of Quatre's torso and the firm globes of his buttocks were equally sweet territory. He mouthed the velvety flesh over a delicate vertebra, following the graceful line of the Arabian's neck and the groove of his spine. The blonde's muffled sounds of pleasure could be heard, and smiling against the porcelain skin, he rounded he curve of each smooth buttock in turn, nipping the firm flesh lightly, causing Quatre' to jump.
"Oh!"
The wet rasp of Trowa's tongue traced the shadowed cleft between the twin globes and Quatre let out a startled gasp and tried to squirm away from the lazy caress.
Surely Trowa wasn't going to…
What he was thinking was…no… he wouldn't.
Trowa kneaded the pliable flesh gently. Cupping the soft cheeks he parted them so that the tiny rosy sphincter nestled between the pale globes was bared to his gaze. He paused to admire the erotic sight before bending to wetly circle the rosy pucker. The tiny ring of muscle clenched and relaxed and Quatre whimpered even as his hips thrust unconsciously backwards to meet the touch.
The turgid tip of Trowa's tongue slid just past the ring of muscle, stretching it ever so slightly. Quatre's eyes flew wide with shock. "Allah!" His strangled voice rose an octave.
"Trowa-- don't."
"Stop!"
Heedless, the slick squirm of the brunette's tongue returned, this time pushing even further past the puckered ring into the tight channel. The pleasure of it rocked the blonde even as the slight pressure hinted at discomfort.
"Nnnnn…Trow-ah!"
The taller pilot's arm slid beneath Quatre's hips, lifting him so that he knelt on all fours on the bed. Spreading the trembling thighs even further, his head dropped back to between the parted globes, tongue busily at work. By the time he was done, Quatre was drawing deep shuddering breaths and the only thing holding him upright was the warm bar of Trowa's forearm. The brunette's own aroused flesh throbbed painfully, but he was determined to sufficiently prepare the blonde for what was to come.
Turning the blonde over onto his back once more, he raised a slender leg over his shoulder; the other he wrapped around his waist. A long, well-lubricated finger slid slowly and deeply into the tight passage. Even after his previous attentions, Quatre couldn't help the startled cry that escaped his lips and the sudden clamping of his muscles around Trowa's probing finger. Tremors assailed the blonde as he tried to assimilate the sudden intrusion. It wasn't yet painful, but the persistent pressure bordered on discomfort. All was forgotten however with the slow thrust of that finger, creating a nameless yearning that made him want something…more. Soon the thrust of that digit was followed by a second and a third. Tears smarted behind his closed eyelids.
/Allah it burned! /
He hadn't realized that he was making soft sounds and whimpers until he heard Trowa murmuring soothingly.
"Shhh, it's okay love. I'll take care of it."
The inexorable thrust of those three fingers returned, probing for the tender gland of the blonde's prostate. Slender fingers curled inward and a wild cry burst from Quatre's lips.
[Ah right there.]
Trowa moaned at the blonde's impassioned outburst feeling the last of his control beginning to fray. He could wait no longer.