Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Entertaining Angels ❯ Chapter 4

Standard Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. No money. etc.

Warnings: Ahoy mateys! There be a lemon ahead! Still Trowa's POV, sappiness in a huge way and uber-fluffiness

A/N: This is the last installment. I hope you like it! I never had any idea how difficult it is to write a lemon from a POV. Whew!

Entertaining Angel
By Solanum Dulcamara

Part 4:


After another mile or so, I slow the car and turn down a small dirt road. It's slightly bumpy and he raises an eyebrow at me, "Off-roading in a hatchback?" But contrary to his question, he seems to enjoy the rough ride, letting himself bounce freely with every movement of the car.

Before long, I shut off The Toad and climb out wordlessly. He steps out as I'm walking to the trunk. He's got a confused look on his face, probably wondering why we're in the middle of nowhere. I have to stifle a chuckle at that thought, as I remember our original destination. He looks at me questioningly as I rifle through the trunk and pull out a bundle. He eyes the undistinguishable pile in my hands, raises an eyebrow and asks, "Should I be worried about you being an axe murderer?"

The question surprises a bark of laughter from me and I need a minute to compose myself. However, before I can think of a witty retort, he smiles his simple smile, extends a hand, and closes his eyes with a quiet, "Lead on."

To say I'm taken aback, is an understatement. I know he trusts me to some extent. I mean, he has been riding around with me all night, but to let me lead him blindly? I doubt I'd let Heero lead me, and I've known him practically my whole life. Then, the not so startling realization hits me; I'd do the same for Duo.

I tentatively grasp his hand and our fingers instinctively intertwine. His slightly smaller hand is soft, yet calloused enough to seem real, and warm and wonderful, and I never want to let go. I'm gushing again.

I slowly lead him through a tiny bit of trees and shrubbery, wary of roots and such that he might trip on. He follows remarkably well for a person who can't see. We enter a clearing, and I softly instruct, "Wait here. Don't peek." He simply stands there and smiles, waiting for me to lead him.

I walk a few feet away and lay down the bundle, which is a blanket. I then take his hands in mine, lead him to the blanket, and guide him to a sitting position. I join him on the blanket before whispering, "Welcome to nowhere. We finally made it."

As his eyes slowly open, the indigo depths open widely and he gasps. The scene is truly a spectacle for any artist to behold. A waxing moon reigns over a sky of endless stars, as the pond below ripples, reflecting the heavenly light in sporadic patterns. Across the water, a wooden shed glows mysteriously in the dim light. The tall grass ruffles in small waves as it is caressed by gentle winds. Blue shadows dance across everything in sight with an almost magical luminosity. (1)

He gropes along the blanket before finding my hand. Wrapping his fingers around mine, he squeezes lightly with a low exhale. He turns to me suddenly, eyes shimmering. "Beautiful," he all but breathes.

I nod, too captivated by him to form words. His wide violet eyes shone brightly in the semi-darkness, his pale skin seamed phosphorescent in the moonlight, and a few tresses of his hair had been coaxed out of his braid by the beguiling breeze. The silken strands now framed his charming face, and I know there's no turning back for me. Slowly, I raise a hand to brush back one of the stray locks. To my surprise and delight, he leans into the touch, letting his eyes flutter shut. "Beautiful," I murmur as I run my fingertips along his cheek.

"Trowa?" he quietly asks, laying his hand over mine and pressing it to his cheek.

"Yes, Duo."

"I'm scared," his eyes open, revealing several droplets of moisture gathering in the corners. The gems of emotion sparkle lightly in the dim moonlight.

Concern courses through me. I moved to fast. He doesn't want me like I want him. He was just being friendly and I misinterpreted it. Damn my assumptions! I try to bite back the worried edge in my voice, "Of what?"

His indigo eyes burn into mine as he replies in a hushed voice, "Of how quickly I've fallen in love with you."

He loves me?! Sweet Jesus! I was just hoping he was interested in me. I can't believe this is happening. How could such a wonderful person return my feelings? I manage to find my voice and try to calm my nerves, as I lean forward, "Please don't be scared. We'll find our way together," and I gently, briefly press my lips to his. I never knew anything could be so wonderful; his lips are soft and sweet and he melts against me, wrapping his arms around my neck. I pull back to see glistening trails on the precious cheeks. Leaning forward, my arms about his waist, I begin to kiss away the tears.

Soft words accompany the salty droplets, "How can something so wonderful happen to me?"

"Because you deserve it, and so much more than I can give," I answer before once again capturing his lips with my own. I run my tongue along his lips, reveling in the taste of him. They quickly part, and my tongue enters the warm moist recesses of his mouth, gently exploring and softly running against his. He beckons my tongue further into his mouth and gently suckles the invading muscle. These sensations are unlike any I've experienced before. Warmth and electricity run through me. I feel heady and yet perfectly serene.

We are beyond words, communicating only with caresses and soft sounds. My hands slowly work under his shirt to explore the tender skin of his back. His fingers thread in my hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue moving with mine in an intoxicating, languid dance. My fingers glide along his spine, over his sides, and across his abdomen. He gasps lightly and I use the moment to press my swollen lips to his neck. He cries out softly as I nibble the deliciously soft flesh.

His hands roam over my chest, sliding along the soft cotton, before tugging insistently on the hem. I sit back a minute as he pulls it off. He watches me again, and I don't just like it, I'm oddly comforted by the penetrating gaze. Slowly, his hand traces over my chest. His slightly calloused fingers slide over my skin in unpredictable patterns. My nerves are tingling trails in the wake of that hand.

I look into his bottomless eyes and watch as all the pain and heartache of earlier melt away, leaving only love... love for me. I can hardly believe it. Those perfect lips stretch in a shy smile and I capture that smile in my own, delighting in the soft warmth of his kiss. I'll never get enough of him.

His lips travel across my cheeks, light as a butterfly's wings, and I slowly roll up his shirt. My hands reverently bask in every inch of newly exposed flesh. He pauses his actions long enough for me to slip the shirt over his head, then returns to gracing me with his glorious lips moving to my neck and shoulders. I want to feel him all over me and around me.

Gently, I press him onto the blanket. He gazes up at me, violet eyes full of love and trust, and I think my heart might very well burst. I love him. Not only do I love him, I need him. How did I grow so dependent in one night? I don't know, and I don't really care. I have him, and that's all that matters. He simply lies beneath me, looking at me expectantly.

I bend down to taste his lips once more. Lapping the wonderfully sweet flavor that is uniquely Duo, my lips and tongue travel down his chin and along his neck, searching for more of the delicious taste. Encouraged by the soft moans escaping his slightly parted lips, I continue my journey across the expanse of his skin. My lips explore the planes of his chest, my tongue traversing the dips and curves of his muscles.

His breath hitches as my tongue dips into the hollow of his navel, and his abdomen shudders slightly. I flick my tongue inside a few more times, enjoying the unusual feel of the hidden folds of skin and his soft cries.

I'm drunk on him; his every movement, sound, taste, and scent. I want it all, and more, and I never want to let go. Hesitantly, so he can stop me, my hands travel down his lean from to hover over the waist of his pants. I look up at his beautiful face and he smiles that smile that tells you everything you wanted to know. As my fingers slowly unfasten the button and zipper, I keep thinking that I should be nervous. I've never done anything like this before. I don't usually say, "Hi, nice to meet you. Want to go out to the middle of nowhere for a little hanky panky?" And here I am with Duo... mere hours after we met. But it's different with Duo. It's like I've known him my whole life, and then some. So, I should be nervous, but, of course, I'm not. Ive never been so at ease in my life. I sound like a damned cliche romance novel, but once again, I don't care.

His skin so soft beneath my fingertips, I pause to absorb every detail of this moment, as he now lays exposed before me, "Beautiful..."

"Beautiful," he echoes, gliding gentle palms along my chest. His every touch erases all thought and fills me only with need for him, and he knows it, as he smiles up at me. He knows that I am his; as he leans up to let his warm supple lips graze my ear. His voice no more than an exhale, "Make me yours," before he relaxes back onto the blanket below me.

I gaze at him in awe, my emotions at war within me. "I don't want to hurt you," I manage to say as calmly as possible. He smiles at me, and his eyes ask far more than any words ever could. And in their depths I find completion. As I dip to gather another kiss, his nimble fingers begin to work off my pants. I'm vaguely aware of a soft breeze as he drops them onto the blanket nearby, and pulls me closer. My nerves enflame as flesh meets flesh, and I am burned into him.

It's official. I'm addicted. I will never get enough of this feeling. He is all I crave. I hungrily attack his mouth, swallowing the delicious moans as our bodies shift in a frantic dance.

He pulls from the kiss and stares up into my eyes, "Please?"

One word... a simple request... and yet so much more... complete abandon... total trust... and mutual need.

His right hand curls around mine, slowly drawing it to his mouth. As my index finger disappears into the warm moist cavern, I can't help but moan. His brilliant eyes burn into mine, and all the while, he gently suckles my finger, before retracting it, and guiding my hand between his legs.

I must be trembling. I know that I must be trembling because I'm finally nervous. I breathe deeply to calm myself. He is so amazing, I surely don't deserve what he's offering, but still, I allow my hands to pray gentle worship over the skin around his entrance. Brushing my lips down his torso, I experimentally trace the tight circle of muscle. He writhes beneath me, eliciting a gorgeous sound. I want more of that sound. Tentatively, I bend to gently lap at the tip of his erection. He bucks and gasps and strains toward my teasing finger. I continue to simply lick, savoring every taste. A low moan wrings from his throat, "Trowa..."

Sweet Jesus! He moaned my name. I never thought it could sound so good. His husky voice filled with need makes me weak. I'm driven to give him exactly what he wants, contrary to my leisurely tendencies.

Carefully, I begin to push past the entrance, while not so gently swallowing his arousal whole. I am rewarded with yet another growl of my name as he attempts to push back on my questing finger, but I hold his hips firmly with my free hand. He's tight; not virgin-tight, but tight nonetheless, and I don't want to hurt him.

As his muscles relax, I can movee my finger more easily. Knowing it will make the process much more enjoyable, and for my own selfish desires, anticipating his sounds of pleasure, I curl my finger slightly, grazing a soft spongy bit of flesh. I'm not disappointed. As my finger brushes his prostate, Duo arches off of the blanket, head thrown back and mouth sending forth delicious moans.

I remove the finger, enjoying his whimpering, and gently suckle it as well as my second finger. I quickly return my fingers to the warm channel. He cries out, as I immediately strike the one spot I know will fill him with pleasure and passion.

He looks beautiful with his head relaxed back and moaning with abandon. I want to always make him feel like this. I must say, that I'm duly enjoying the activities myself, as my fingers stroke him within, my tongue strokes him without, and my ears are graced with his throaty cries.

I'm taking my time; I want him to be fully prepared, so he can enjoy this completely. Plus, just pleasuring him is enough. I memorize every writhing movement, every panting breath, every low moan, implanting this moment on my mind.

I move my fingers with more purpose. His back now flexes as he lifts his hips to meet every thrust of my fingers. I can feel his muscles tightening as my lips clamp around the base of his length slowly drawing to the tip and wringing a cry from his beautiful mouth. Quickly lowering my head again, I prepare myself for his impending climax. As my tongue swivels along his erection and my fingers continue their onslaught, his body tenses beneath me. His mouth drops open, emitting an incoherent cry as my mouth receives the gift of his passion, and I catch every precious drop.

I spread his semen over my own arousal, and then pause to look into his face, his gloriously beautiful face... and he smiles that smile that tells you every answer to every question you've ever had. And as I position myself above him and look down into the endless hyacinth depths, I realize that I am about to gain the piece of myself that I've been searching for my entire life.

My breath hitches as he takes me in; beautiful in his submission, so freely giving of himself. This is unlike anything I've ever experienced. I feel full as we're joined. For the first time that I can remember, I don't feel like half of a person.

As our bodies languidly move together in earnest desire, it feels as though his soul has wrapped around me, and even if I never saw him again, he would always be with me. But I won't let him walk out of my life so easily. My need for him is voiced in low moans coupling with his mewling cries to form a duet of carnality.

I no longer sense time or space. The only thing that exists is Duo. I feel a confusing array of emotions welling inside me as the pleasure between us builds. This moment is too soon coming to an end.

I reach down and gently cup his length, stroking in time with our now frenzied thrusts. A strangled cry falls from his slack mouth as his body tenses off of the blanket, slamming against my groin, and clamping around my member. The world quickly fades to white. Vaguely aware of his body trembling beneath me and warm liquid spraying over my hand, I'm deafened by the roar in my ears as I'm overcome by pleasure unlike any I've ever known. For a moment, I can't breathe, and I'm not sure if my heart is still beating. But it must be, because I can feel Duo's beating in time with my own as he weakly whispers my name over and over while raining kisses across my face.

His skin is soft and warm against mine as his fingers trace sporadic patterns on my back. I've never been more perfectly, wonderfully, comfortably happy in my entire albeit short existence. It's in this moment of pure bliss that I suddenly realize, with utter humiliation, that I completely collapsed on top of him.

As I struggle to remove the burden of my weight, I hear a low chuckle, and when I look down to meet his gaze, he's smiling that prize-winning smile that makes me feel like a 13-year-old girl at an N'SYNC concert.

I know I'm blushing. I have to be because if my face were any warmer, I might be a liability to the surrounding vegetation. Inwardly groaning, I withdraw from his body and lay next to him on the blanket. Before I have a chance to fully settle, he's curled around me, every inch of his body molded to mine. My arms instinctively wrap around him, holding him close. His soft exhales on my chest almost tickle in a very enjoyable way.

After several moments of silence, he lifts his head slightly to look at me. His gaze is trusting yet questioning; a bizarre combination. After a few moments of assessing me he opens his mouth to say something, but I quickly swallow the thought, as my mouth gently moves over his. He blinks at me in confusion as I guide his head back to my chest. He tilts it back and peers at me through his bangs, "But?"

"No buts, Duo. Don't worry about anything. You can stay with my sister and me until I finally get a place of my own. Then I was hoping you'd move in with me... for good. I don't plan on letting you run off. I'm not promising that it'll be a cake walk. I've never lived with anyone before and we still have alot to learn about each other. But I know that whatever it takes will be worth the effort. For work, well, you're beautiful, friendly, intelligent, and you've got service experience. I'm sure my manager, Sally, would be more than happy to hire you. We're short-staffed anyway. And as far as school goes, you know I'm a vis-art major, and I just happen to have access to some files on wonderful little items from the college office including art scholarships for transfer students and FAFSA applications for a Pell Grant. I think you'll find that things will work themselves out.?

He's so still, I fear that he may have fallen asleep during my little sermon, or worse, he's angry at my presumptuousness. It's not until I feel the moisture slowly dripping down my chest that I recognize that he's not only awake, but he's bloody crying. I didn't want to make him cry. Gently, I pull him up so that I can see his face clearly. Pressing my lips to the corners of his eyes, I kiss away the tears.

His voice is soft and hesitant, "Are you... are you an angel?"

I must admit, I am rather taken aback... he seems to have that affect on me. No one has ever referred to me as anything remotely supernatural, let alone a celestial being known for avenging the oppressed. The delicate features of his face look to me with earnest sincerity, and his eyes fill with an almost childlike innocence in the question and with one look, the words flow from my mouth, "You are the one who has saved me." Where did that come from? Hmm? It's true, however I'm not known for waxing poetic. I suppose, Cathy was right. I hate it when she's right. I was dead... not in the sense that my heart wasn't beating, although, I'm not sure that it did before I saw Duo. From the moment we met, when he announced his entrance with that colorful string of expletives before bouncing around his car, when he asked for my help, I not only knew what it was to live, I had a reason to do so.

The gentle pressure of his fingers dancing over my chest brings me from my thoughts. He takes a deep breath before leaning up to whisper, "Sister Helen used to tell us a story," I didn't interrupt him to question who Sister Helen or "us" is, "She said that you should always be kind to strangers, 'cause you never know when you're entertaining angels." He looked at me, eyes wide with nostalgia. I can't help but smile at the hopeful expression.

"Then how lucky am I," I murmur, kissing his forehead, "To have fallen in love and entertained an angel all in one night?"

A faint blush creeps across his nose and cheeks, before he ducks his head and hides in the crook of my neck. His reply is muffled, but not misunderstood, "I'm not an angel."

Sighing, I sit up and cradle him, so I can see his face. I remember something Cathy used to tell me about God sending us guardian angels in all sorts of forms. And as I drown in those wide indigo eyes, I believe that there must really be a God, a benevolent one at that, to have sent me such a wonderful guardian. An angel that taught me to use my heart and will also protect it.

I bend and kiss my angel, gloriously reveling in his lips, feather soft against mine. And he smiles the beautiful smile that makes me forget how to breathe. Have I mentioned that I'll never get enough of that smile? "You don't have to do a write up or report or anything, do you?"

He looks at me in confusion. "Because, I don't plan on letting you go, so, I hope heaven isn't expecting you anytime soon." The confusion melts into a smile as he snuggles into my chest. And as we sit in each other's embrace, I wonder if heaven can exist on earth, because nothing could be more perfect than this.


***
Cheesy? I know. I just can't help myself.