.

Warnings: Major Lemon. Um, Slash if you haven't caught on to that by now.

Pairings: 4x2 Next chapter will be 1x5 and 4+2+4.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters. However, I highly recommend that you go out and buy merchandise from those who do. That way, perhaps this will be construed as free advertising and I won't get sued. Then again I barely still have a job - there's not much to take. *Sigh*

Author's Note: *Hangs head in shame* I suppose my apologies for the slow updates are getting pretty redundant (but I do apologize anyway). Hopefully this will be somewhat worth the wait, it is pretty much entirely lemon. There will be one final chapter, where Duo and Quatre face the rest of the pilots and we see how they all deal and the dynamics of the group change. I'm not going to say how soon that will appear; so far every time I've tried to do that I've been way too optimistic. But it WILL get written, that I do promise.

And - thanks again to all the reviewers, so many of you that stuck around as this fic was moved all over the place, with an extra special thanks to Elynsynos and Onyx Shinigami. You are the reason that I haven't given up.

And *Hugs* to Moonraven-chan for weeding out the bad stuff before letting me post. You're the best!!!

Chess

Part VI - Checkmate

by Xellas M.

Duo's spirits had risen considerably by the time they made it safely across the colony. They were not headed for the clubs on the best side of town, where the criminals lived lavishly on the money they made from the misery of the poor. Instead they headed for the heart of the tiny section where the few on L2 who considered themselves middle class gathered to discuss politics, religion and The War over a few friendly beers.

It truly wasn't Duo's night. There was only one dance club in this area and long before the Gundam Wing pilots drew near its entrance they could see the long lines of Oz foot soldiers waiting for admittance.

"Dammit! Alright, I give up!!!" The frustrated pilot melodramatically shook his fist at the dusk tinted colony ceiling in imitation of the heroes of the B movies of which he had grown incredibly fond. Behind his antics, however, he was truly annoyed.

Quatre, however, was secretly relieved. He had come along only because he sensed how important this diversion was to restoring his friend's confidence after the harrowing trip to the site of the Maxwell Church. Sandrock's pilot had no desire to be in a crowd, to have the unfettered emotions of the intoxicated thrust upon his battered psyche.

"It's OK, I'm kind of tired anyway. Let's just find a hotel." The blond smiled as he rested his hand upon Duo's arm. His smile was seductive and his touch lingering, openly implying that he wasn't necessarily too tired for certain, select activities.

Which was true. For Quatre, things had progressed far beyond the point of any mere game. Although he had some idea through the emotions of others, he'd never truly understood just how overwhelming the experience of falling for someone was. It was waking up in the morning for his first day of life and being acutely aware that it could also be his last all at once. Nothing mattered except getting Duo alone and sealing his claim on the strong and beautiful young man.

Less than a block away, in the opposite direction from the crowded bar, stood a middle-priced hotel. It was one in a chain of thousands scattered across the Earth and the Colonies. The rooms would be completely lacking in taste or individuality, but would be clean and stocked with everything they would require. Wasting no time, the Arabian began dragging his companion to that haven.

Duo yelped when Quatre's grip on his arm tightened and the smaller young man began hauling him to the closest sign that flashed 'Vacancy'. Either he really was tired and desperate for a rest, or…

Or maybe Duo's plan hadn't backfired so badly after all. There had certainly been something in his friend's large aqua eyes that reflected more than simple lust.

Checking in was easy; Quatre was as yet unknown in his role of Gundam Pilot. As the Winner heir he was easily recognized and held completely above suspicion. Duo simply hid his notorious face by pretending to nuzzle the blond's neck. Nothing to see here, just a rich boy taking his latest toy to an anonymous hotel. The fertile imagination of the female clerk would supply all further explanations necessary, and probably quite a few beyond even that.

At Quatre's insistence, Duo took his shower first, timing it carefully to comply with Colony rules for water use. It was a small miracle that the establishment provided the luxury of water for washing at all; most places substituted less satisfying but cheaper sonic showers. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the emotional grime accumulated during their walk wash away, leaving him clean. It struck him how he'd never really felt dirty when he'd been growing up. He shrugged. He had been much too concerned with survival to worry about trivial details. Absently, he threw on a towel, choosing not to cover his now clean body with the clothes he'd worn earlier.

Quatre quickly took his own shower. As Duo had, he wrapped himself loosely in one of the enormous white towels provided by the hotel. He paused to glance in the mirror, hoping that the bright aqua eyes reflected back at him were enough to attract his mate. Surprised that all his experience wasn't enough to calm his nerves, trying to remember what had compelled him to do any of it in the first place. Wondering above all else what the man waiting in their room wanted and if he'd be able to give it to him. With an effort of will, he allowed his mind to quiet and reached out to his friend's heart with his own.

Duo shivered when the sound of running water ceased, marking the end of his waiting. He had tried arranging himself into five or six different "casual" poses, finally giving up when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, lying on his side with his head resting in his hand, loose hair flipped over his shoulder, looking like a virgin who had seen too many afternoon soap operas. The ridiculous sight broke the tension. The violet-eyed pilot felt much more like himself; a wide grin stretched across his face as he sat up just in time to see the bathroom door open.

The Arabian had sensed both the braided man's earlier nervousness and the deceptively fragile, wild control gained moments before he entered their room. That fey confidence was contagious. Now the blond knew exactly what was needed. The final mask fell from Quatre's face and shattered, leaving only a man who loved and hoped to be loved in return.

He walked quietly over to the small vidscreen on top of the dresser and switched on an audio channel that featured old, soft, romantic songs. He flashed a warm smile at his desire, speaking to the heart he knew was beating irregularly behind the manic grin.

"I'm sorry we did not get to go dancing like you wanted. Dance with me now?" Quatre asked, quietly, seriously.

Duo's eyes softened. He felt something very cold inside him, something that had been there for so long he had forgotten it even existed, melt at the words. He went without hesitation to the slight figure waiting in the corner of their room. Always graceful when he wasn't pretending, the braided pilot's movements were poetry made physical as all his awareness of self evaporated into the small space of the nondescript hotel room.

They met without words, arms enfolding slender bodies, speaking of loneliness and lost dreams and hope. Feeling the smoothness of skin contrast sharply with the rough, anonymous thickness of two hotel towels, breathing in soap and each other. Moving closer, they began to dance. Neither led. Instead, both were led by the beat of a song written centuries before they were even born.

Wise man say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help

Falling in love with you*

At some point in their dance, Quatre's eyes, which had closed as he'd basked in the unhoped for, but so welcome, complete acceptance of the embrace, slid open the tiniest fraction. Responding to a feeling that may have been his or may have been the other pilot's - the empath was no longer able to distinguish one from the other - he brushed his lips against the warm skin of his partner's throat, nuzzling gently.

The contact sent a cascade of shivers down Duo's spine. He had finally gotten his answer. Unbelievable as it seemed, Quatre not only understood everything, but was offering all of himself in return. Like a virgin's fantasies of sex, this was a dream the street orphan turned terrorist had entertained his entire life without truly understanding.

In response to the shivers, the blond moved his lips upward, gently caressing his new lover's neck. He could feel everything through his lips it seemed, the heat of the taller pilot's body, and the frantic pace of the blood throbbing so closely underneath that skin. At last, limited by his height, he could go no further and could only wait for the violet-eyed man's answering movements to accept his offer.

There was no conscious decision made by Duo to move, to claim the soft lips that had touched him so gently. He was caught up in a dream, in thrall to an exhilaration almost entirely unlike fighting with Deathscythe. He had always found peace there, in his own still center, no matter how surrounded by action they were. But that was a peace without comfort, without emotion. Death was cold. Quatre was warm and alive, contentment mingled with desire. His kiss satisfied everything and demanded the same in return.

The music changed, and although neither man heard it there was a subtle shift in the way they turned and swayed in the small space. Their kisses grew deeper, hungrier. Inexorably, need took control of their young bodies and arms that had at first held gently now desperately pulled their mates closer. Hands roamed smooth, bare backs and on traveling downward, did not hesitate before mapping secret places lightly covered in terrycloth.

Throwing his head back, Quatre let out the softest whimper as Duo's tongue flickered against the tiny hollow just beneath his earlobe. It was one of the most sensitive places on his body. So attuned to each other were they that the slight sound was all that was needed to communicate this to the braided pilot.

"Quatre." The American breathed, and then continued worshipping the tiny space that rapidly released all of the passion held within the smaller man.

The blond pressed against the violet-eyed man tightly, feeling the solid pressure of another arousal against his stomach even as the kisses along his ear pushed him beyond the level of lucid thought. Aqua eyes snapped open. Focused now on the only thing left that mattered, he began backing his lover to their bed.

Duo felt the back of his legs hit the mattress and was reluctantly forced to separate from his partner to comply with the unspoken demand that he lay down. It rankled, being forced to let go of that delicious flesh, especially when he knew that he had managed to please the more experienced young man. And with the way Quatre looked now, his face and body flushed dark with desire, his eyes burning, locked onto the American, Duo wanted nothing more than to continue touching, to give absolutely everything he had in him to satisfy the one person able to accept everything that he was.

The empath reached down and quickly snatched away the braided pilot's towel, drinking in both the sight and his lover's impatience. He tried to fight the urge to hurry, so strong in both of them, and throw himself at the so-willing temptation. It was an honest but ultimately futile attempt to savor the moment. Even his considerable self-control could not hold him back from that slender and perfect body.

He dropped his own towel before carefully crawling on top of Duo. The other watched him silently. Without the distraction of his lover's normal prattle, Quatre felt he would drown in expressive eyes, changed by desire into a purple so deep as to be almost black. He chose not to risk being further ensnared by the American's gaze or his kisses, pausing only to gently kiss the prone man's cheek and stroke that impossibly long and beautiful hair before moving both lips and hands to his partner's smooth chest.

Duo hung suspended, emotions as always having robbed him of the ability to speak, to plead his case, as his lover moved - not quickly enough, never quickly enough - downward. His entire body ached, but nowhere more than his cock, already full past the point of return. Finally, the blond's hot breath caressed his length and Duo looked down to see sensuous lips open and a pink tongue emerge between them.

He groaned and the sound released his voice. Even though he knew with certainty where that tongue was going, he could not stop himself from begging. "Please."

The Arabian stilled, glancing up along his lover's body, hands and mouth inches away from Duo's cock.

"Quatre, please." The violet-eyed man repeated, husky voice growing frantic with need.

There had been no need to ask, but there was no point in wasting time on explanations. Quatre wanted more than anything to devour his partner's sex. Gently, he pulled what little loose skin remained downward, so that the engorged head was straining, the sensitive nerves as close as they could possibly be to the surface. He licked a first, delicate line, starting from the leaking slit and teasing his way down along the prepared length, reveling as the hard shaft pulsed within his grasp. He varied and repeated the action, enjoying each new discovery: the way his love tasted; that although his hands were clenched tightly, his hips remained still; that occasionally he would look down to watch but would soon look away, passion forcing his eyes closed. Small things, secret things that would be treasured.

Duo groaned and shuddered as he was taken beyond the point of begging, until he was almost sobbing. There was so much love in the way he was being touched. It was that, more than the skill with which he was being pleasured, that brought him closer and closer to the edge.

At last, the blond sensed it was time to stop his much-loved explorations. He shifted his gentle grip on his lover's shaft until he was only holding the base. Reverently, he closed his lips around the large head of the cock he had been worshipping. Learned its shape, the best way to hold it in his mouth and suck gently. Without warning, he let go of the agonizingly slow pace, bobbing his head as deeply and as rapidly as he could. His hands were not idle, playing with Duo's heavy sacs and tracing the sensitive area behind them.

It was almost too much, the sensations that flooded Duo when he was finally enveloped in Quatre's warm, wet mouth. The sudden transition from the painful teasing to the bold, relentless sucking quickly took him past his limit and held him there for an immeasurable time. It was perfection, being balanced on that peak just so for ages, then finally spilling out in a pulsing release that impossibly lasted even longer.

When the violet-eyed man regained awareness, his partner was still gently sucking at his slowly relaxing cock, blissfully drinking up the final traces of come. Without hesitation, Duo interrupted, pulling the blond to his lips. He wanted to show his feelings, his awe at what Quatre had done for him.

The American rolled them over, his sated body wrapping around his lover's heat. This total eagerness to give pleasure was something new. It wasn't that he'd been selfish in bed before, far from it, but that his efforts had always been to appease his own ego rather than because he truly wanted to do his best for his partner. He gazed down at the blond pinned beneath him, those incredible eyes looking up at him with absolute trust, and felt a rush that had nothing to do with having an orgasm but still had everything to do with sex.

Quatre was trapped somewhere halfway between heaven and hell. He could still taste Duo, was still on an emotional high from having taken the American pilot. It had been the most erotic experience he'd ever had, leaving him full and hard and wanting. Pressed as he was underneath the weight of his lover made him hunger more for whatever completion the violet-eyed man chose to give.

Deathscythe's pilot began to move, starting again with the smaller man's so-sensitive neck, pausing between kisses to whisper words, compliments, and Quatre's name over and over again. He did not stay in place for too long; his mission was to please the other man, not to torment him. His lips ghosted along a collarbone, hands running freely up and down the perfect lines of the blond's sides. He brushed Quatre's pink nipples, made them stiff and hard before dropping his lips to the tempting flesh. He bit down gently on one of them, feeling himself begin to harden again when the Arabian's shudders rubbed their sweating bodies together.

Quatre simply could not take any more. He reached between them and grasped Duo's hardening length, stroking it carefully but quickly until it was full enough for his purposes. His legs wrapped around Duo's waist, bringing their cocks together as his arms gripped the taller pilot's shoulders tightly. To his dismay, the American reacted by pulling away.

"Sorry, Quat, I'll be right back." He whispered, carefully pulling the ends of several long strands of his hair from beneath the whimpering blond.

Aqua eyes tracked a perfect ass as it made a mad dash to the bathroom. Objects were moved, clothing rustled, and eventually, an exclamation of success was heard.

Tube of lubricant in hand, Duo re-entered the main bedroom. He did not make it two steps, however, before he was thrown forcefully onto the bed, face down. Immediately, legs straddled his hips and arms held his shoulders, pinning him. His lover's hardness followed, pressing tightly into his ass.

"And just where did you think you were going?" Quatre's voice was silk over steel.

As best he could, the tackled pilot waved the tube behind him. He was entirely unable to speak (and barely able to breathe) due to the fact that he happened to have been tossed face first into a pillow.

"Ch. You couldn't have just used the one on the nightstand?" Now the blond's voice was amused. He let go of his lover's shoulders, allowing him a bit of room to turn and see the much larger bottle the Arabian had placed there during Duo's shower.

The tube fell from the stunned pilot's fingers with a soft *thump!* onto the floor.

"Sorry, love, how can I make it up to you?" Duo asked, rubbing his ass against that burning cock, nestling it more deeply between his cheeks. Because he was still pressed into bed, the stimulation was doubled as the motion ground his own erection into the smooth sheets.

Quatre let out a moan, already stimulated almost past his considerable control. "Turn over." He rasped out, "I want to see your face when I take you." He backed off, allowing the other to move.

Duo twisted around, carefully sweeping his hair to the side, out of harm's way. Settled on his back, he grabbed an extra pillow and slid it under his own hips. With a smile that would have shamed all the sirens, succubae** and vixens in mythology combined, he bent his legs and spread them wide, reaching down to stroke himself and briefly tease his opening with his fingertip enticingly.

"Beautiful." The blond breathed, settling himself between those long legs. His eyes were locked on the sight of the violet-eyed man pleasing himself, head pillowed on a seemingly endless stream of golden brown hair. He managed to tear his eyes away only for brief moments, long enough to grab and use the jar of lube he'd set out.

"Don't stop what you're doing." Quatre commanded, applying a bit of lubricant to his lover's cock, helping ease the friction on the sensitized organ as he touched himself. Receiving no response, he was pleased to notice Duo's slender hand increase its pace as the blond pressed a lubricated finger into his warmth. Gently he began to work and stretch his way inside.

Now it was Duo's turn to squirm and beg once more. "Faster, Quatre. Please. I *like* it rough."

A muscle moved in the smaller man's jaw as he complied with the request, infinitely relieved. He knew he was not going to hold out much longer. He placed the tip of his lubricated cock at that burning entrance, then locked eyes with his lover as he pushed slowly, but steadily, in.

Now there was nothing separating them. Violet eyes widened as Duo was taken, his lover's cock not an invasion but a completion, so welcome. He needed to feel it again, over and over.

Quatre was trembling; this was too much, being allowed to slip inside perfection. His partner's hands grasped his shoulders tightly, so strong. He moved his own hands to the American's forearms, the leverage helping him match his smaller form to Duo's. He began thrusting then, slowly at first but that could not last, his need was too great.

The violet-eyed man saw his lover lose control seconds before he was pounded into with driving, relentless force. The sweet-looking blond was making primal sounds, grunting and groaning as he slammed into the receptive warmth repeatedly. Quatre felt so good! Duo's untouched cock ached, but he didn't dare move his hands from his partner's shoulder's to stroke it.

The blond came to his rescue, roughly grabbing the throbbing erection and pumping it without decreasing the power of his thrusts. As it happened, the shift of his weight to a single arm changed their angle so that a sweet spot deep inside the moaning pilot was hit, hard and repeatedly.

Their consciousness shattered as one, tremors starting in one shaking body and seeming to pass right through to the other. Quatre's ecstasy was voiced through a breathless scream, as pleasure shot through him hot and intense. It seared through him relatively quickly; he was too aroused from the long climb for it to last. Duo let out a soft moan as the second set of waves that night crashed through him, gentler than the first but no less enjoyable.

When they came to, Quatre slid out and nestled up alongside his spent partner. No promises were whispered in the dark. For people like them, there could be no promises, only brief moments of peace stolen from the chaos of their lives. Softly, they kissed and in peace and comfort, slept.

* * * * *

~End Chapter 6

* I don't know why I chose that particular song, really. It's just what I heard in my head when I was imagining their dance. I'm not an Elvis fan by any means - but I have always had a major soft spot for that one song.

** Did you know that was the plural of succubus? I definitely didn't. Kinda neat, huh?