Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ I Got Game! ❯ Still Running ( Chapter 15 )

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

Alternate Universe, Sci-Fi? Sporty, Some Events Based On Authoress's own experiences....(wee! Basketball!)

Standard Disclaimers Apply: Don't own Gundam Wing, but I own every original character that emerges...Don't own the songs listed with the chapters, either...

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<= means scene change

Pairings: 4x3/3x4, 1+2, 5xM & various others...

A/N: And away we go, folks!! Some lemony goodness, as promised! ^_^!

Chapter Fifteen~

"Still Running" = Chevelle

"Ball! Ball, ball, ball, ball!" Quatre shouted, keeping his tireless pace with #21 as the point tried to look for some relief, ball over his head. With the pressure he was taking from both Quatre and Duo, the pair keeping him trapped in the upper corner of the court, keeping him from moving forward to pass, the ref began counting down the seconds he had remaining.

Finally, Duo managed to wrest the ball from #21, turn, and shoot a last second shot that didn't make it, the ball bouncing off the rim with a loud twang. It didn't matter-Darken won, 76-75. Duo turned and gave Quatre a high five, the pair walking over to their bench as their team gathered in a circle to congratulate the other team on a good game. After their chant, they formed a single line, waiting for the other team to meet them in the middle.

"That was better," Hautta muttered, wiping his face with his hand. "No losing."

Quatre nodded, shaking his right hand repeatedly-a ball he'd caught during the game had sent two of his fingers into an odd position, and it hurt. He held his hand out to the Asian, who looked at them with a frown, then, without Quatre having to ask him to, reached up and pulled the fingers with a hard tug. Feeling them align once more, Quatre winced and pulled his hand back. They felt much better, though, and he wiggled his fingers to get the blood moving. He was used to having jammed fingers, so it didn't really bother him too much. As they congratulated the other team with choruses of 'good games', Quatre scanned the moving crowd for any real familiar faces. But seeing hide nor hair of Trowa, he frowned and followed the others into picking up their bottles of power drinks and towels. He knew the goth hated making public appearances to things such as these, but would it hurt to watch just one game of Quatre's?

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

Trowa was waiting for him outside, through. The gym was steadily emptying, leaving behind only Darken students and janitors. Quatre saw the goth waiting for him on the bench that he usually waited on, smoking a cigarette. Frowning as he fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket, ignoring the fact that it was nearly twenty degrees tonight, he walked over.

"Where were you?" he asked.

Trowa shrugged, finishing his cigarette. "I don't do games," he answered.

Quatre frowned harder. "But I thought you were going to watch me play."

"Quat, I don't like going to those games. Any kind of games. I think they're just a pain to deal with."

Quatre stared at him, tongue in cheek. Glancing around as more students left the gym, hurrying for the dorms, he kind of figured that Trowa would give him this speech. It was annoying as hell, though. But Quatre wondered if he should discuss this with the goth-then he decided not to. People were already calling him a 'baby' for various things-why encourage it from the one person that was beginning to matter?

He sighed, slumping his shoulders. "Oh. Well, all right."

Trowa stared up at him, sensing the inward battle of his blond. Then he rose from the bench, gesturing that they walk back to the dorms. "Did you eat dinner yet?"

"No. I'm not hungry..."

"Fucking Christ. I've got stuff in my room you can eat."

"Trowa! I just SAID I wasn't hungry!"

"Fine, fine. If you up and die because you weigh only fifty-three pounds, that's your fault."

Quatre snorted, shaking his head. "Whatever. So, what'd you do while I was playing?"

"Nothing." Trowa frowned at the spirit-cheered students that were hurrying into the front entrance of the dorms. "I finished some homework for Anatomy. Fucked around with Duo's things, had dinner... nothing real special."

Because it was still bothering him that Trowa didn't want to watch him play, Quatre fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket. He wanted to get his mind off of it, so when the goth held the door open for him, he walked into the building, scanning the faces of those around him. The entertainment area was filled with loud talk and laughter, as well as the accompanying sounds of the holoset, various games, radio and Lowell shouting at a group to separate. He didn't see Drake or Felicia, or even Go, so he figured they had gone out to some party. He sighed again, reaching up to scratch his ear, wondering what to do for the rest of the night. It was nearly ten-curfew was extended by a half hour on weekends. He looked up at Trowa to see what the goth was going to do, seeing him talking to a girl that was dressed similarly as him, only that her pale face was heavily made up with darker makeup. Quatre hesitated, watching as they talked about something that could only depress them, then began making his way to the stairway. His gym bag was uncomfortable at his side, so he unhooked it from around his shoulder and dragged the thing behind him, slowly making his way up.

When he reached his room, he input his code and dragged the bag to his bed. He set it down on top of the messy blankets and withdrew his shoes, socks and uniform. After he'd hung up his uniform and put his smelly socks in the small clothes hamper provided, he put his shoes away and shoved the bag underneath his bed. With a heavy groan of boredom, he flopped backward on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was still wearing his jacket, so he wormed out of that and let it rest where he dropped it.

He wondered what had made Ramos change his mind so suddenly. Ramos had been so steadfast in keeping him benched, but it was as if it were a last-minute thing to allow him to play tonight. Oh, well. Quatre wasn't going to worry about it now. He'd played, he'd played well, so he wasn't going to complain. It was much better than setting on the bench and pouting while he watched the others play and make mistakes that he knew he wouldn't have done.

There was a knock at the door, so Quatre got up from his bed and answered it, knowing that it was Trowa. He opened the door and turned to his bed without even checking.

"Hey, you going to stay in here all night?"

He whirled, frowning. "What? Oh," he muttered, upon seeing that it was Triton, ready to go out on the town. "Yeah. What the fuck do you want?"

"C'mon, let's go out."

"No."

"C'mon, stop being a pussy..."

"I'm not," Quatre said, turning back to the door, wondering if Triton would take serious offense to him slamming it into his face. "I just don't want to go out."

Triton walked into his room, looking at the mess. He kicked aside a loose basketball and some paper texts to allow himself some standing room. "Christ, you're bloody messy. Why don't you pick this shit up?"

"Why don't you just shove yourself out that door and go back to whatever bloody toilet you came from, hmm?"

Triton laughed. "What are you so mad about?"

"I just don't want to go out. I want to stay in this weekend," Quatre muttered, stepping over his jacket and plopping down on his desk chair, sitting in it backwards. Resting his arms over the top of the chair, he leaned his cheek into the crook of his right elbow and glared at Triton from within.

"Where'd you go last weekend? We were heading out to the movies, and I tried to come up here and see if you wanted to go."

"I went out with Felicia and Drake," Quatre answered, shifting to bite at his thumbnail and sullenly wondering how long Trowa was going to talk to that girl.

Triton performed a double-take in his direction. "You what?!"

"I went out with Felicia and Drake. You got a problem with that?"

"No. They're cool. It's just...I don't see you as the partying type."

"I'm not. I didn't party. I went to look at the other people partying," Quatre said, looking down at his nail to rip the bitten part off.

"Fuckin' liar. Did you get fucked up?"

"No. Anyway, I don't want to go out tonight."

"Come on. Why not? Didn't we have fun that other night?"

"Fucking, shut up!" Quatre exclaimed, looking up from his nail. "You're the bastard that tried to-tried to-tried to-! Never mind!"

"Oh, it was all in good fun. At least you had fun, right?"

"No."

"Come on. Just come out. I promise I won't try anything," Triton said, walking over to his closet to pick out his clothing once more.

"No, fucker! God! No means 'no'!"

"Or just a varying form of 'yes'. Really, when people say 'no', they mean 'yes' because they're too damn wimpy to really speak of what they want," Triton commented as he began pulling out neatly folded clothes that Quatre hadn't yet worn. Amid all the Spurs jerseys, casual athletic clothing and that one blue shirt he'd worn last time, Triton found a black, long sleeved shirt that would go well with a pair of baggy denim jeans. He held them out, and Quatre frowned at him from his chair.

"I said, I'm not going out! Fucking Christ, do you want me to beat it into you?" he muttered, frowning at the choice of clothing Triton was holding out. He didn't remember those pants being there, nor that shirt. Maybe he should go through his clothing this weekend and throw out what he didn't wear. Where was Trowa?!

Triton lowered the clothes and gave him a look. "Don't be a fucking pussy, Quatre. Get dressed and let's go. It's not like you're doing anything, anyway."

"No."

"Are you waiting for your boyfriend? Is that why?"

Quatre chewed at his middle fingernail as he stared at Triton. "Yes. Yes, I am," he answered with some discomfort at publicly acknowledging that Trowa was his 'boyfriend'. Triton frowned, dropped the clothes on his bed, and crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed that his tactic didn't work this time.

"You guys really aren't a couple, you know," he began. "You can't even accept that you're gay. You drag him along just because he's there. I watch you, you know. You don't even acknowledge him in the way that he wants. You just expect him to be there, and fuck whatever he wants, as long as you get what you want. You're just using him."

Quatre looked up from his fingernail, frowning at him. He rose from his chair. "Man, what the fuck do you know? You're just talking shit just because I won't go out with you!"

"Fucking stop this bullshit, Winner. Just like on the court, you're using your moves to keep this guy a step behind you, figuring you can do it because he's so infatuated with you. You're just using him, man. That's fucking fucked up."

"Whatever. Get out of here."

"Admit it. You're using him!"

"I'm not!" Quatre exclaimed. "And who are you to judge me that way? You don't even know me!"

"Oh, I know your type, Quatre Winner. You're the type that hates what he is, but expects others to accept it for him," Triton said with a disgusted snarl, leaving his room. As he walked down the hall, he shouted, "When he finally wakes up to realize what you're doing to him, you're going to be one very sad individual."

Quatre slammed the door shut, frowning as he glared at the wood. What did he know? he thought angrily. Triton was just mad because Quatre wouldn't go out with him tonight. That was all. The guy was a jerk, really, and it annoyed Quatre off to no end to endure this crap from him. And where was Trowa?!

He opened his door and stormed outside, wondering where the goth was. He thought that they were going to spend some time together. Peering down the stairway, thinking he would see the sophomore climbing up the stairs, he saw a few students milling around and Triton making his way down to the first level.

Frowning, he pushed away from the railing and walked back to his room. "Whatever he's talking about better be interesting to me when he gets up here," he muttered sullenly to himself as he slammed the door shut.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

Trowa knocked on his door after curfew, then frowned when no one answered. Knocking again, he shifted position, leaning on the doorframe as he glanced around him, looking at the camera that was focused on the hall. For exactly ten minutes, it would register the hall as empty, while Trowa coaxed his way into Quatre's room. After those ten minutes, it would resume normal feedback. He'd also set his room sensors to register that he was in bed, and had even input a code that would focus on his body heat to reassure Lowell that he was still in his room. Since he'd planned on meeting Quatre after curfew, he'd done the same to the blond-all it took to confuse the sensors were a little code-breakers here and there that would register the rooms as all safe and occupied by one resident. It was simple, really, when one had the software and the know-how. He thanked the non-existent God that he had friends such as Felicia and Drake, masters of deception of all security measures to assure their good times. Quatre opened the door, frowning at him. It looked as if he were sleeping, so Trowa grinned and pushed his way into the room.

"Where were you?" Quatre asked sullenly, rubbing his eyes as he glanced at the clock on top of his desk. It read twelve-fifty one a.m. Frowning at the goth as he returned to bed, he grew a little discomforted as Trowa slid into bed with him, laying outside the blankets next to him.

"Just messing around."

"Oh."

"Were you sleeping?" Trowa asked the obvious.

"No. I was lying here, rehearsing my lines for the upcoming production of 'Annie'...Didn't you hear me singing 'Tomorrow', you fucking dick?"

"Ooh. I didn't know you did theater. What a turn-on."

"I DON'T. I was LYING."

Trowa grinned, trying to imagine his blond with fiery red, curly-curls and a dress. While he found that he could, the image was certainly entertaining and he decided to sketch it later on. He reached over, throwing an arm around Quatre's shoulders and snuggling close. "I'm sorry I was late," he apologized as Quatre grumbled about being touched, wiggling to dislodge Trowa's arm. Instead of pulling away, he moved closer and curled his arm around the blond's waist, pressing small kisses against the warm skin of his temple. "I was talking to Samantha about a project for art..."

"Oh, really? Is this where the both of you play naked artist with one another and pull a Leo and Kate?"

Trowa's grin turned even broader, and he hugged Quatre close, the blond grumbling once more about the close contact. "Are you jealous?" Trowa whispered against his ear.

"NO! I could be sleeping right now, not messing with you."

"Oh, you're jealous, Quat! You make me so happy that you care!" Trowa gushed with joy, kissing his temple once more. Quatre shifted in bed and kneed him dangerously near the groin. Fearful of the damage to his privates, Trowa shifted so that he was on his stomach, arms underneath his chin. But he was still happy that Quatre was expressing such an emotion, letting him know very subtly that he cared. Yes, things were happy in happy world...

"I'm not jealous," Quatre sniffed. "I'm just a little annoyed that my time is taken advantage of..."

"Ooh!"

"Wait, that didn't come out right!" Quatre protested, realizing how whiney he came off.

Trowa chuckled, capturing the other's chin within one hand, and pulling him forward for a kiss. The blond hesitated slightly, but relaxed into the contact, kissing back. Happy that progress was made, Trowa moved closer, continuing to kiss him, loving the feel and the smell of his blond. The room was entirely quiet, almost eerie in the dark, but it was certainly very private. No roommates, no fear of being caught, nothing. It felt rather exciting in the way that they were by themselves, without any interruptions. As naughty thoughts ran through Trowa's mind, conjuring up many things and ways he could express his affection for the other, a thought of remembrance came into his thoughts, reminding him that they couldn't go so far just yet. For one thing, he knew Quatre wasn't ready, and for another, despite all his precautions and risk-taking in getting this far, he felt a little concerned about their physical cleanliness. Sophia Darken allowed their students to have sex-as long as they understood the rules and regulations regarding such physical issues. There was a special process a couple had to go through in order to go as far as intercourse, and it was required for all to sign up and participate in. While that was going on, they were also tested for any diseases and instructed on proper safe sex procedures. Many of the student body approved of such regulations, and as far as he knew, the process was very much appreciated by both students and parents alike. As much as Trowa wanted this to continue as far as it could, he realized that it was only the right thing to do in notifying the proper authorities of their intentions.

Capturing the blond's tongue within his lips, he sucked gently, tasting him, enjoying the physical contact and need he felt for the other. Quatre had his hands set on Trowa's hips with such a hesitant grip that it felt just as incredibly naughty as it would if the blond were holding onto something else. Such progress! Sure, they'd made out a few times before this, kissed and softly explored each other above the midriff in some instances, but this time was different because Quatre was now more accepting of Trowa's advances. Swallowing the taste of the blond, Trowa closed his mouth to give small kisses along Quatre's chin and jaw line, smelling the other's unique scent. It was intoxicating, and it was amplified after the blond participated in strenuous activity. Inhaling deeply, pulling him closer so that their bodies were aligned from chest to hip, Trowa wished that things could move faster. He wanted the blond with such urgency that he felt desperate enough to try and go for it, but he knew his limits.

He felt Quatre shift against him, and he groaned, not wanting the other to stop the physical contact, but Quatre was only pushing the blanket away from him, to allow more contact between them. With some noted hesitation, Quatre pushed his leg between Trowa's, settling more comfortably against the other. With some happiness, Trowa shifted to wrap his arms around the blond's hips, holding them against his. He found Quatre's lips once more, kissing and tonguing as he reveled in the feel of the other's body against his.

Quatre was beginning to really, really like this part of the relationship. Trowa felt good against him, and he smelled good, he tasted good, and this felt good. This touching, this kissing, this closeness. There wasn't anything wrong with it at all. As long as he could focus on the fact that what they were sharing was pleasurable and immensely yummy, and not on the fact that they were both boys, he could enjoy it. Trowa's arms around him made him a little dizzy with desire, the desire to be closer and to move further. He shifted his arms so that one was wrapped under Trowa's hip and the other around his back. There. Their bodies fit better that way. He felt Trowa's hands slip down to touch his ass lightly, his palms moving over his cheeks with barely any pressure. It felt good as long, lean fingers kneaded and squeezed the round muscles, and he shifted with the pleasure of being touched that way. It didn't at all feel violating or disgusting, and as Trowa shifted so he could slip Quatre's outside leg over his hip, Quatre felt unashamed and exposed to the other. It was too dark to see the other's expression, so he relaxed his own to express what he was feeling with the other's body against his. The movement of his leg over Trowa's hip allowed an even closer press of their bodies, and one of Trowa's hands slipped over his hamstring, stroking and caressing the area where ass met leg, drawing out the sensation of forbidden pleasure because it brought with the touch the fact that Trowa could continue to move his hand into more private territory. He could either drop his hand over his ass-cheek to his opened crevice, or delve into the exposed closeness of his privates.

Quatre could feel himself holding his breath, so he released it slowly, drawing his arms up to rest them outside of Trowa's own arms, and reaching out to cradle the other's face within his palms. He brought the other's face to his, to kiss his curved lips and taste the Snickers bar from earlier. It felt so good to be this way, to do things without being judged or knowing the consequence in the end. To lose oneself with the pleasure one brought to share with the other. He could feel the way the goth was straining to keep himself from pushing any further, and to keep from touching areas that he thought Quatre wasn't ready for.

But Quatre's body was responding to this intimate contact, and he could feel himself growing aroused by their position and their actions. Unable to stop himself, he ground his hips into the others', pressing his arousal against the other's. He heard Trowa suck in a surprised breath, his hands ceasing on his ass, and Quatre wondered if he'd made a mistake. But then the goth rolled him onto his back, kissing him with a gentle eagerness that told Quatre immediately that he hadn't made a mistake. They shifted position so that Trowa was lying on top of him, with Quatre's knees on either side of his hips. Quatre could feel himself grow a little hesitant where this was going, but Trowa's lips on his neck, hands on his legs and the feel of the goth's arousal against his pelvis reminded him that this was pleasurable and there was nothing wrong with it.

He groaned softly when Trowa began rocking motions against him, feeling himself respond to the movement with a small rise of his hips, trying to find an appropriate rhythm with the goth to make this even more enjoyable. Trowa's mouth met his once more, his tongue entering his mouth with more urgency than before. Quatre wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close, wanting to be even closer. Shifting his hands to run them down Trowa's back, to slip underneath his shirt, he felt warm, smooth skin and wanted to feel it against his own. With an insistent tug, he murmured against Trowa's mouth to take off his shirt, and when the goth rose to do just that, Quatre wiggled out of his own. When their bodies met again, it was accentuated by twin sighs of mounting desire as warm skin moved against warm skin. The smoothness of his back, fueled by the thoughts of that hidden picture, made Quatre very hard and very eager to get things moving. Smelling the sweet-musky scent of the goth's skin, Quatre gripped the bare flesh of Trowa's hips, shifting to rub against him once more.

Trowa shifted to suckle at his neck, his own hands moving over well toned stomach muscles and ribs, his fingers splaying over them. He could feel the blond's rapid breathing with the movement, the way the blond shifted with urgency underneath him. It was so hard to stop-he certainly didn't want to, but perhaps they were moving too fast. He didn't want Quatre to regret anything that they were doing. But... it felt so good...

He decided then, that until Quatre made the motion or said the negative to stop the action, he'd continue. It was just too good just to stop now...

He moved his way from Quatre's neck to his collarbone, nibbling at the graceful lines of his clavicle, running his hand down the blond's bare side. He touched the scrunched material of underwear, and hesitated there. Tasting musky skin and salty textures, he felt himself moved by Quatre's quiet urgency to keep going, to keep up this action. He lowered his mouth to one nipple, taking it into his mouth, tasting and sucking as the blond moved against him, moaning softly as he held Trowa's shoulders. Trowa wasn't sure whether or not Quatre wanted him to stop, so he lifted his head from that pebbled nub and kissed his open lips, tasting him.

Quatre shifted so that his knees were holding Trowa in place, but he really wanted to explore the other's body as well. With an awkward shift of his head, he craned his neck to kiss the goth's exposed throat, finding the other's skin tasted of musk and faint traces of stubble. Feeling the goth swallow, Quatre kissed his neck and suckled gently, wrapping his arms around Trowa's shoulders and holding tight. Trowa shifted so that he was on his back and Quatre was on top of him, straddling his hips. Quatre wasn't bothered by this, finding it easier access to Trowa's exposed body. He curiously explored the goth's upper body, tasting new skin and touching unexplored areas, feeling how different the other felt to his own body. He felt sinewy muscles flex upon contact with his tongue, felt skin shiver when he kissed and blew on it. He couldn't tell what color Trowa's nipples were, but he felt them immediately harden under his touch and even tasted them, tasted the pebble-effect it made under contact from his mouth. He could feel small strands of hair around them, and experimented with the touch of them against his lips, tickling the sensitive skin.

He could smell the other's deodorant and hoped his own was working as he worked his way to the other's stomach, coming into contact with more hair. He withdrew his head to run his hand down Trowa's stomach, touching the small, light trail of hair that disappeared into the goth's underwear. Feeling a little bold, he traced the trail over the button and zipper of his pants and down to his crotch. He felt Trowa's obvious arousal, and palmed it, curiously noting how different it was to his own and to Jamie's. Flushing slightly at the thought, guilty by this curious wonder, he massaged Trowa's cock through his pants, finding that it was thick, curved, and deserved more attention. Pulling up from his body, Quatre fumbled with the zipper and button, much to Trowa's delight. And somewhat despair.

"No, wait," he panted, stopping Quatre's hand.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I...I don't know about this part..."

Quatre sat up from him, feeling somewhat rejected. Trowa sensed this, and gripped his hand tightly, shaking his head. "No, it's not that I don't want you to, it's just...I don't know if you're ready..."

"Trowa...if I didn't want to, this wouldn't have happened, or have gone this far," Quatre whispered, shifting his hand to clasp the other's fingers within his. "I just-are you okay with it?"

"God, I'm more than okay with it...I want it, I want you, I just...are you sure?"

"It's not like we're going to actually go all the way, right? I don't...I don't think I'm that quite ready for that part," Quatre confessed, fiddling with the talented fingers of his boyfriend.

"Okay. Just...just let me know when to stop, okay? I know you feel uncomfortable, sometimes. I just...I just want you to be comfortable.."

"I do too, with you..."

"I'm more than comfortable with whatever you want. I think I've been wanting this for far too long before you have!" Trowa said on a soft chuckle.

"Really? Pervert."

"You know it, babe," Trowa muttered, finding Quatre's face in the dark, cupping the blond's chin so he could kiss him. Quatre moved in closer, wrapping his arms around Trowa's neck and kissing him back, breathing in the scent of the other. As tongues met and teeth clicked together, he could feel himself starting to respond once more to the other's closeness, to the other's touch. Just feeling the warm, bare skin made him hot once more, pressing his chest against the other's in a need to be close. Trowa pulled him down on top of him once more, running his hands down Quatre's sides and over his ass once more, kneading and parting his cheeks. Quatre felt the action was incredibly arousing and gasped softly against Trowa's mouth, pressing his pelvis against the other's. Reminded of where he was before, he shifted so that he was sitting on his knees, and resumed the action of undoing the button and zipper of the other's pants. He noted Trowa's hesitation, the sudden stiffening of his body, but when Quatre gingerly peeled boxer-briefs down and exposed Trowa's cock to him, he felt the other relax slightly. He pulled the remaining material down his hips and off his legs, completely baring the goth to his touch. He threw the pants and underwear out onto the floor of his messy room, not bothering to pay attention to where they landed. He couldn't see what looked like what, so he explored with his hands.

He found the other's cock to be warm---utterly warm---within his palm, and he reveled in the smoothness, of the difference of the other's anatomy. He palmed the head, finding it already moistened with pre-cum, and ran his fingers down the length, finding it to be slightly longer than his. He could feel the veins and hair, finding that to be coarse and thick, warmed by Trowa's body heat and the confinement of his underwear. He could feel the curve in Trowa's cock, the way it curved upward at a slight angle that was interesting because he didn't know they could do that. He wondered what it would feel like against him, against his bare skin. He felt himself flush hot at the thought of how it would feel inside of him.

He quickly let go of Trowa's dick, nervously shuffling his way up the other's body to rain hesitant kisses against the goth's chest and neck. When Trowa's arms moved around him, holding him close, he could feel that curved dick against him, just outside his shorts. It pressed against his body with a simple urgency, and he moaned into Trowa's neck, unsure if he should proceed forward with what he was doing, or have him stop.

"You all right?" he heard Trowa's comforting whisper against his ear, the feel of his tongue against his lobe.

"Yes...I just...It...I..." Quatre couldn't explain himself as he felt the persistent press of Trowa's dick against his hip, reminding him of what he'd left. He reached down between their bodies to touch it once more, curving his shaking fingers around it, feeling the hotness of it and the texture within his palms.

"I know, it's deformed."

"No, no, it's just..." Quatre couldn't find the right words to explain his own feelings, but shifted off of Trowa as soon as he felt the other's growing insecurity of himself. To keep the goth from pushing him away, he lowered his head to the curved cock of his boyfriend and wrapped his lips around it. He heard Trowa's soft gasp, the spasm of his hips once touching that moistened cavern. Quatre found the taste salty, the smell strongly musky, his lips lapping over the straining head. Tasting the pre-cum that leaked from the slit on top, Quatre grimaced, pulling his head up as he licked his lips. It was incredibly salty, runny. He wondered what Jamie had thought upon tasting his that night, and lowered his head against to run his tongue over the head once more. Gripping that curved cock within one hand, he shifted to a comfortable position at which he could explore the length with his lips and tongue, listening to the sounds of Trowa's moans and gasps.

He lowered his head until he had half of it in his mouth, then found his gag reflex when it went too far. He shifted, re-positioning himself and trying to find a safe rhythm to keep up this ministration. He sucked at the head with some experimenting pressure, finding one that made Trowa's body lift urgently, his moans growing a little louder. The throaty sound aroused Quatre and made him feel a little more confident as he tried sucking at the entire length, finding a comfortable position in which he could suck without gagging. He tried to keep his teeth from scraping against the sensitive length, and found his mouth tired after awhile. He pulled his mouth away from it, using his spit to lubricate his palm as he pumped the curved length with some hesitation, trying to find a pleasurable rhythm.

Trowa sat up, then, panting as his body shuddered under the experimenting assault. He stopped Quatre's hand with both of his, trying to regain control of his body, feeling impending orgasm. He stiffened his entire body, trying to think naughty thoughts of the more disgusting people of his school, and as he battled this, Quatre shifted forward to kiss him, keeping his mouth from touching Trowa's as he wasn't sure how the other felt about kissing him directly due to his mouth being on his dick. Trowa felt himself lose control, coming all over his hands and over Quatre's, the blond giving a startled sound as he felt the hot cum pump over his curled fingers and hand.

Trowa moaned loudly, leaning his head forward to rest against Quatre's shoulder, feeling his body jerk and sensitize ten times more than it already was. Quatre's hand on his throbbing dick made it worse, and he nearly shouted when the blond began to move it. The agonizing sensitivity of after-orgasm made touching his cock a traumatic event. Quatre hesitated in moving as Trowa exhaled heavily against him, his legs shaking from the intense moment. Wincing at the feel of warm substance leaking through his fingers and running down his wrist, Quatre wished he could see Trowa's face at this moment, wondering how the other looked like after-orgasm. He kissed Trowa tentatively on the cheek, removing his hand gently from the other's.

Trowa continued to rest his forehead against Quatre's shoulder, breathing in the scent of his love and in wonder over this beautiful moment. This was his first time receiving anything sexual from another person, and it was certainly one of the more memorable moments of his life. For the first time, he had been touched, kissed and brought to orgasm by another person. The feeling was intensified even more because the person was someone he actually cared about. The need to ramble on about how much he loved Quatre and the little nuances that he possessed almost spilled forth from his open mouth. But he snapped his mouth shut with a click of his teeth, determined not to ruin this moment by sprouting that.

Quatre's arms were around him, cuddling him, his roughened hands moving up and down his back. Trowa winced at the feel of his juices over his hands and slowly uncurled from his position, looking for something to wipe his hands on. Quatre leaned away from him, handing him a shirt he'd wiped his own hand on, not caring whose it was.

Trowa wiped his hands, wiping between his fingers and knuckles. After that was finished, he tossed the shirt aside and reached for Quatre, wanting him to experience what he just had. He found Quatre's lips with his, pressing his body against the other's, finding that sometime during the let-down period that the blond's own arousal was gone. Trowa boldly reached down to fondle his crotch, finding the snugly protected privates within the binding fit of his underwear.

"Let me do you," he whispered against Quatre's ear, feeling the other respond under his fondling hands. He could feel the member come to life under his hand, indistinguishable by the layers of clothing that protected it.

"Wait..." Quatre was growing hesitant at receiving, remembering how Jamie had gone about it. While he found that the thought of Trowa 'doing him' was incredibly arousing, he hesitated at actually following through with it. "Wait..."

"Please? I'll make you feel so good...you made me feel so good...I want to show you..."

"Wait...I-I...Trowa..."

"Quatre, please...I don't want to leave you hanging this way. I can feel you. You like what I'm doing."

"Yes, but..." Quatre trailed off, moaning as Trowa pressed him against the bed, his hand working him. It felt so good, so Quatre allowed him to continue, whimpering at the sensation it caused him when Trowa began to work on him. He held onto the goth's shoulders like a lifeline as he felt his shorts and underwear manipulated into sliding off his legs. The thought that they were now both naked excited and frightened him at the same time, and he felt the other's balls brush against him as he shifted on top of him.

The thought that the person above him was just as naked as he made him shiver. His legs were pushed apart, and he felt incredibly exposed, his fingers digging into Trowa's shoulders as he felt the other's hand palm his balls, feeling and caressing them. He moaned loudly, feeling himself respond to that. Trowa lowered his face to his neck, kissing and suckling as he began stroking Quatre's length, shifting so that his knees were underneath the blond's, propping them up on his thigh.

Trowa could feel the other's heightened awareness of their nakedness, could feel it in the way of Quatre's sudden tightening of his legs over his own. He could feel the aroused example of Quatre's rising excitement, and reveled in the feel of the other. Circumcised, velvety, thinner than his, just as long as his, he could feel his stomach tightening with the fact that he was doing such intimate things with the person he loved. It only heightened everything that was felt, that passed between them. Without hesitation, he gripped the cock he held in one hand, and lowered his head, pressing his lips against the head. He wasn't sure how to go about the exact actions and motions, but he felt confident enough to experiment. Because of their 'virgin' status (he didn't count what had happened between Quatre and his friend ), they weren't trying to impress each other with their knowledge of pleasure giving, nor was there pressure to perform better. They were both new, experimenting, and new to the entire thing, and that's what made him so confident.

He tasted sharp musk, smelled it, reveled in it. He enveloped the hot dick into his mouth, sucking hard, careful to keep his teeth from coming into contact with it. He heard Quatre give a sharp gasp, and began moving his mouth up and down the length, sucking hard the entire time.

"Oh, God," he heard Quatre pant over and over, the sound muffled, as if the blond were covering his mouth with his hands to keep from being loud.

Trowa stopped sucking, finding his own gag reflex when he dipped his head too low and took in too much. He removed his mouth from the hard arousal, pressing kisses against the textured surface of Quatre's balls. He tasted hair, salt and musk, and shifted so that he could pull those into his mouth as well, feeling Quatre's legs shift against his head. Ever daring, he shifted his face even lower and kissed that smooth part that separated balls from anus. Quatre gave a start, moving to sit up and cover himself with a strangled groan. Trowa immediately intercepted him, pushing him back down onto the bed and grabbing the hot length within one hand.

"You feel so good, Quatre," he breathed against the blond's ear, tonguing the inside and licking the outside, feeling the other's chest rise and fall rapidly with heavy pants as he worked the spit-slicked cock within one hand. "I love how you taste, how you feel...you feel so good..."

The feel of the blond's body underneath him, the way toned muscles moved against his own made him slightly hard once more, but he knew he wasn't going to be up to the challenge tonight. He wanted to, he really did, but he knew once was enough for now. He dropped his head to envelope the blond's mouth into a passionate kiss, suckling at his tongue, letting the other know how he tasted down there. He shifted his position, his bare skin shifting against the other, exciting him. Bare thighs scraped against bare hips, hot stomach shifted against bare stomach. It all felt so good, to feel the other without clothes, to have bared their bodies to each other that Trowa felt nearly drunk on it all.

He replaced his hand with his mouth, taking Quatre's length into his mouth and finding a comfortable position to suckle and tug slightly. He hit his gag reflex a couple of times, but as his body was, Quatre's body was inexperienced to long periods of pleasure, and he tasted salty, thick cum as the blond came, crying out. Fingers threaded through his hair and tightened as Trowa tried to swallow, finding it rather hard to do so because the taste was so bitter. He gagged a couple of times, but managed to swallow what hadn't slipped past his lips.

Trowa lifted his mouth from the still hard member, pressing kisses along the length before doing so. He kissed the quivering stomach, the rapidly rising and falling chest, the fiercely pounding pulse of his throat and kissed Quatre's dry lips with gratuitous eagerness, knowing that the other could taste himself on his lips. Trowa let his body relax over the other's for a couple of seconds, then shifted off to the side, feeling the blond's arms curl around his shoulders.

The few minutes of silence stretched into nearly a half an hour as the pair laid together, pondering over what had just happened between them. Trowa loved the sensation of the other naked against him, feeling all the nook and crannies, dips and rises of the other's body against his own. He could especially feel the heaviness of the other's balls and limp member against his thigh, and resisted the urge to reach down and cup that particularly soft section of his blond within his hand. He sighed with content, snuggling against the blond, feeling the other respond to it with a cuddle of his own.

He could smell the muskiness of their expressed affections, the smell of the other's body. It was good. It was more than good. It was more than what he'd imagined. And it was ten times more because he was in love with this boy. This boy, whom he just bared his body to. They may not have gone all the way, but it was close enough. They'd touched, kissed, explored and damn well came in shared instances. It was good. It was absolutely fantastic. Trowa was in heaven.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

"What?"

"I SAID, no more rumors!"

Felicia stopped what she was doing, lifting the welding goggles from her face as she stared at Trowa with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. She killed the torch with the flick of the button and turned away from the metal she had been melting together to help form a metal box that would fit over their project for welding class. She looked over at Trowa with a stupid blink of her eyes, then got the message.

"OH MY GOD!" she shrieked, gloved hands flying to her face with the half-assed attempt to cover her mouth.

Trowa rolled his eyes and took the torch from her before she could flame him with it. "It's not that big of a deal," he muttered.

"So...you guys did it last night? While I was AWAY?!"

"We didn't 'do it'. But...close enough."

"Hot fucking damn. So, the rumors have to stop, huh?" Felicia chuckled, fingering her chin as she leaned against the metal she'd just weld together. She snickered, then replaced the goggles, resuming her work after Trowa handed the torch back to her. "It's about fucking time! God!"

Trowa waited for her to stop welding before speaking again. The other students in the class room were busy with their own projects and partners, so they didn't pay attention to their conversation. Quatre didn't know this, but Trowa had nearly half of his classes with the Native American girl. Which allowed him plenty of time to conspire and plan with his main resource of rule-breaking mischief. Felicia was filled with reliable information and contacts on keeping Trowa happy with the things he himself couldn't possess by his hand alone. Trowa had found much satisfaction in the business sense with her, and found her very dependable with her work. There was no physical attraction or as such between them, and Trowa was content with this. While it was definitely fun to toy around with the possibility of something more between them, the thought was nothing more than just idle thinking to pass the time.

"How's the thing with the coach going?" he asked.

"Quatre got to play, didn't he? Which reminds me, the little shit, everyone's all impressed that he's actually good. Everyone's talkin' about it," Felicia muttered as she eyed the melting process. "Shit. Give him a ball and he turns into a damn God. Even the girls are all giggly about it. 'Ooh, he's so cute!'" she warbled in perfect mimicry of the girls she'd overheard gushing about the blond in the halls earlier.

Trowa shrugged and eyed his black fingernails. "Whatever. Like I'm worried about them."

"All the gay guys are going insane. He actually has groupies, now. Can ya believe it? The Quatre Winner Fanclub, complete with perverted fanfiction and detailed newsletters that are released after every game he plays...Seriously gross. He'll probably kick their ass if he ever finds out. He's the worst gay guy I've ever know..."

"I'm not worried about it. I'm perfectly content that he won't stray on me." But Trowa spoke with some lack of confidence, frowning at this.

"Whatever, you big ole bag of insecurity," Felicia muttered, shaking her head. "This coming from a guy that pays me to spread rumors about his boyfriend and beat up the guys bothering him. Hey, how's that comin' along, anyway? He ain't bein' bothered anymore?"

"Thanks to you, you big man in girls' clothing. What did you guys do last night?"

"Not uh. I deserve a detailed account of your guys' sexapades last night. Quit changin' the subject an' pass on the details!"

"No way, man. I don't kiss and tell. I don't want you trying to take him from me."

"Fuck that bullshit! C'mon, give a lonely girl some inspiration that everyone else is still havin' sex despite the fact that she ain't," Felicia complained as she shifted the goggles over her eyes and began again.

Trowa waited until she was finished before speaking again. "All I'm saying is this-it was very good."

"Fuck that. Look at ya. You're all hickied up. Gross. What are you, a disco ball? Shit."

"I need something from you." Trowa held up a roll of money, the same amount he'd tried offering the last time he'd asked her to do something. "Seeing that the holidays are coming up, I need to know what I can do to get out of state."

"Fake ID's, that's for sure. Without permission from admin and the principal, you ain't going anywhere." Felicia hesitated before continuing with her work. "Wait a minute. Where are you going? Your sister pickin' you up?"

"No. Quatre wants to go home. But his dad won't allow him that."

"And you're going to help his ass out?"

"I would love to give him a present, but I don't know what he doesn't have. I figure this would be the closest thing to it..."

Felicia snorted, shaking her head as she took the wad of money. "Fucking bloody Christ...the things I do for you two. When ya want it?"

"He's looking forward to playing a couple more games, I think, before Christmas break. He has another in January, as soon as we get back. Maybe a week out there should be fine. Remember, his father's a rich fucker, so we might need ID and all that..."

Felicia raised an eyebrow. "'We'?"

Trowa nodded firmly. "We."

"Tro-Tro, you fuckin' whipped ass motherfucker. It must have been good, ennit? Damn. All in, what, two months? Three months? When did that white boy get here?" Felicia trailed off in thought as she returned to work, cursing aloud when she realized she'd messed up the melting process.

Trowa, meanwhile, smiled and leaned against the wall with his arms over his chest, dreamily running through all that had happened last night, thankful for the heavy apron that he wore to protect himself from the sparks that shot outward from the metal project and torching effects. This Christmas was going to be good, indeed...