Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Pull Up For The J! ❯ Balla ( Chapter 28 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Triton Bloom gets what he wants...
Caution: Lemon warning!
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.21.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 9.1K | Visits: 213 | Status: Completed
Triton Bloom gets what he wants...
Caution: Lemon warning!
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.21.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 9.1K | Visits: 213 | Status: Completed
Chapter Twenty-Eight:
“Balla” Chingy
Duo looked over at Hiiro, watching the Japanese talk with Winnie and Otto over something concerning the latest Sunfire and Lakers game. He had to admit, since they both talked about having feelings for each other, things were rather fantastic between the both of them. It seemed that since then, they spent more and more time together, getting to know each other all over again. In a way, it was absolutely beautiful...and as far as he could tell, no one knew the real truth. They thought they were just friends–real close friends.
He had to snicker, because only they knew what the real thing was between them.
Practice had slowed, into a playful scrimmage between first bench and second bench, and right now, Ramos was lecturing Paul, Mariemaia, Brian, Derrick and Triton on better offense measures, and showing them new tactics on which they could use on-court. So, Duo was playing with the others, and having a swell time of it. He just felt like he was on Cloud 9 with the knowledge that his long time crush had feelings for him. It was the best feeling one could have.
He looked over at Hiiro once more, imagining what it would be like to progress onto ‘other’ things. Such as kissing. He wanted to know what it would be like to kiss Hiiro Yuy. Relena had once said it was like kissing a brick wall, but she’d been on the rag that day, so Duo didn’t take her very seriously. But he had to imagine that it was hard and steely, with Hiiro’s muscles being so strong and unyielding, his lips soft and dominating–
“Boner much?” Colin asked him with a slow drawl.
Duo shook himself out of his dreams, looking at him in shock. Shit! “What?” he squeaked, feeling his face turn utterly red that he’d been caught staring at Hiiro with his thoughts on his face.
Colin scoffed, pointing in Hiiro’s direction. But it wasn’t Hiiro he was pointing at–just some group of girls that were standing beyond him, at the doors leading into the gym. Duo exhaled forcefully, then laughed as Colin looked at him curiously.
“Yeah. You can say that!” Duo said on a chuckle, looking for the ball. Quatre had it (of course), and was dribbling with his left while keeping it from Felicia. “So...what’s going on, man? Who are you taking to the dance?”
“I’m not thinking of that, guy,” Colin replied, shaking his head. “I’m thinking about Stanton. I need to focus on Stanton. I heard they were top-notch, and to see them play–! Fuck! They’re fuckin’ tough!”
Duo nodded in agreement, remembering their games against them last year. “Yeah...they really were. They are, actually. They’re tough–top in the league, and all their players are fuckin’...better than anything. It’s like, ya gotta be a professional to be all up in that school.”
“We ever win against them? I mean, like, ever?”
“Yeah. The school won state against them a few times in the past, but...hell, they’re fuckin’ competition for all schools in all of the state! They’re the ones we have to beat if we’re going to make it. I mean, we’re in for sure even if we lose this game, but...still, I don’t wanna let them have all the points in the end.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Last year, the first game we played against them, we’d only lost by twenty or so. But that was cuz of Quatre, man. He plays awesome when he’s all into it.”
“He slackin’ off, then?”
“Yeah. Hiiro was saying he really cut down on the intensity since last year.” Duo looked in the blond’s direction with a scoff. “I mean, he was like, way bad. We were always fighting with him, but this year, he really cut down on that shit.”
“So is it better for him to be shitty rather than friendly?”
“If it means winning against Stanton, I don’t fuckin’ care.”
“Whatever, Duo. You’d be all up in his shit about stuff, and getting yourself all thrown out of the game!” Colin laughed. He caught the ball that Hiiro tossed at him as he walked over. “What’s going on, bud?”
“Nothing.” Hiiro looked at Duo. “You going to dinner?”
“Yeah. I’m starving.”
“Let’s go, then. Practice is over.”
“See ya guys,” Colin said, waving at them as he walked away.
Duo looked at Hiiro, lifting an eyebrow as they walked over to the bleachers to take off their gym shoes. “So...what’s up? You look like you have something on your mind...”
“Well...” Hiiro looked down at his shoes, frowning thoughtfully. Duo sat down next to him, untying his shoelaces, waiting for him to speak. “That dance...after the game...I was wondering...”
When he trailed off and didn’t speak for several long moments, Duo raised both eyebrows, reaching up to remove his headband. His sweaty hair slid across his eyes as they widened with faints surprise. “Yes?”
“Well...what’s...what’s going to happen? I mean...are you going with someone? Did you...”
Duo felt uncomfortable with that subject, hunching his shoulders as he sighed. “I don’t know. I mean...I didn’t want to say anything because...I didn’t know what was going to happen...you know.”
“Yeah,” Hiiro said, glancing at him. He took off his shoes, replacing them with a pair of outside ones. “What... What happens when it comes to that? I mean...I don’t...I don’t think I can...not yet...”
Duo smiled faintly, nodding as he changed out of his gym shoes. “I know. Me, too. I mean, I know...I know male couples are common, it’s just...people always thought we were straight.”
“And we were, it’s just...”
“Yeah, I know. How to explain this one? I mean...it’s weird. It’s not conventional, or anything.”
Hiiro nodded in agreement, then looked at him. “But...the dance...”
Duo looked at him, pausing in tying his shoes. “Yeah...? Are you asking me? Or...are you just askin’ to see if we should take someone else?”
“...I don’t know. What do you...I mean, I don’t feel ready to do it, yet, but...people are asking, and...”
“Yeah.” Duo then shrugged. “I don’t know, man. I really don’t. I mean...I’m not ready. You’re not ready. Should we just...should we just take other people, and just...hang out? I mean...”
“I was thinking among those lines, but then, wouldn’t it be awkward? I mean...aren’t we kind of...going out already?”
“I don’t know,” Duo said softly, shrugging again. “Would you consider us going out? I mean, right at this moment? I mean...making us a couple right now...?”
“I don’t know.”
They both shrugged, and finished their individual business. Then, both of them pausing, they looked out at the court, towards the members that were still playing. Duo stared at Triton, who was laughing with the others as they talked about something. Come to think about it, the senior hadn’t bothered with Quatre since that one game. In fact, it was as if the senior were continually making efforts to ignore him. The blond as well. Duo had to wonder if the rumors were true, and they were just embarrassed about it. He snickered, then looked at Hiiro, elbowing him.
“Hey...I mean, if you want...we can go together. Just...alone, like. You know? Just show up without dates, but hang out...”
Hiiro looked at him, then chuckled. “That would be obvious, Duo.”
“I know. I know.”
Hiiro looked at him again, blinking slowly. He straightened, tugging on his jacket. “Do you...do you want to? I mean...these girls are asking, and I wanted to see what you...what you were doing, first.”
Duo licked his lips nervously, really quite touched that Hiiro had done so. It made him feel very happy inside. He looked at Hiiro again, then shrugged a shoulder. “Let’s just...I don’t know. I mean...if we aren’t ready to really do that just yet...let’s just...take dates. I mean...y’know? And we’ll just hang out together. Who knows? Maybe they might ditch us to be with each other.”
They laughed quietly, then picked up their bags, heading off the bleachers. Hiiro elbowed Duo, watching as the long haired one looked at him. “You’re cool, Duo.”
“Yeah...you too.”
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
After practice, Quatre wiped his brow, and went to change his shoes. Felicia had left him to run off with her friends, and so he planned on walking to the cafeteria on his own. He hadn’t told her that Max had asked him to the dance–that was sort of embarrassing. She would probably just tease him about it, and he really wasn’t up to it.
He felt a little odd–it felt as if his heart were racing a million miles per hour, and he couldn’t seem to calm himself down. Practice had been hard, granted, but it hadn’t been that exciting. And his senses felt overblown–it felt as if he could hear everything and anything, process things quickly and with much more abandon, and he felt particularly edgy. Granted, it felt like a major adrenaline rush, and an unwelcome one at that. His stomach clenched suddenly, in a particular way that made him feel rather blah. At that thought, he figured he wasn’t hungry. Somehow, the thought of food made his stomach feel much more funny. So he changed out of his shoes and left the gym.
As he breathed slowly and deeply, trying to will his body to calm itself, he wondered about Trowa. The boy had acted very funny earlier that day–taking something that clearly didn’t belong to him, accusing him of using drugs–which made him wonder why someone would send him drugs? It wasn’t as if he were going to use them, or anything. Trowa had just mentioned that it was in an envelope with his name on it, and he’d thrown the thing away.
But why would Trowa do that in the first place? Quatre felt a little odd in that he knew, just knew, that Trowa still had feelings for him. And he had to wonder at his own. Standing next to the other today had made him feel ultra content–secure was the word.
But...but he was angry at Trowa. For cheating on him with Une. And for rendering him lacking in the self-esteem department. After all, it was Trowa that didn’t want to touch him when he gained a few, er, ten pounds. And it was Trowa that started this entire situation...so...thinking about it, would Quatre even consider getting back with him, if that were possible?
Sure, there were times, he admitted, when he missed him. Missed his company, and his words–even his stupid pet names. But then, there were others, when he felt as if he could do without him.
Maybe he was just thinking this way because he was feeling lonely. He just needed a companion, or something, someone that he could...treat as a boyfriend kinda thing. A...well, shit. When the hell did he start thinking this way? He’d gone without a boyfriend since and before Trowa, he could do it now. It wasn’t as if the world depended on one having one.
As he reached the dormitory, he thought about Max. Max was interested in him enough to ask him to the dance. And Quatre had to wonder, without the distraction of sakura petals, bubbles and insane beauty; what made Max so intriguing? Yeah, the boy was something to look at–there was no doubt about that area. But what made him attainable? He really didn’t know the boy!
What was his personality like? His likes and dislikes? His age? The place he came from before here? Those that tried to get to know him declared him ‘nice’, ‘sweet’, and all that...but could Quatre do with ‘nice’ and ‘sweet’? The first few times they’d spoken, Max had been meek and cutely shy, and while Quatre had been operating on short-firing brain synapse impulses, he had to admit that such qualities weren’t all that.
After all, it didn’t explain Max’s individual characteristics or thoughts and views...he was just a cute face with obscenely cute...er...earrings.
Smirking, Quatre made his way up to his room. Now, with Trowa, he’d found humor, definite thought and definite content. In Justin...eh, the sense of doing something bad. And Triton? Well...that explained itself. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to get to know Max. Max didn’t seem his type. He just said ‘yes’ because Trowa pissed him off and because...well...hell. Max’s beauty had distracted him. But if he didn’t know Max, then why should he spend hours at a stupid school dance with him? Especially when he didn’t dance? It just seemed rather pointless...
He walked into his room, slapping his bag down. He decided to take a shower, kicking off his shoes and sliding on his shower slippers. Taking a change of clothes, he padded down to the bathroom, still feeling entirely excited. Well, that didn’t seem like the proper word. More like...wired.
He took a shower, changed into his pj’s, and made his way back to his room. He had this impulsive idea to talk to Max, to get to know the sucker before the dance came. Which was in, like, a week and a half. That way, once he got to know him, and he decided he didn’t want to go to the dance with him, he could stop it before it even grew close. Yeah...that was a good idea.
So, he went in search of Max Sheridan.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Fuming, Trowa puffed around his cigarette, staring off into the distance. So, Quatre was going to the dance with that new guy. While he felt like he definitely didn’t care, his resulting thoughts and manners were obvious. It made him mad that Quatre was going with Max–it just didn’t fit. Somehow, it just didn’t. And it wasn’t that Trowa wasn’t jealous (because he was denying that he was), or that Quatre was doing something entirely different from his usual way of thinking (can one really see Quatre Winner at a damn dance?)–it was just the fact that Quatre was doing this to spite him. He’d seen the look in his eyes at lunch–doing this just to make him jealous and angry.
Well, it wasn’t going to work–for long. Well...very well. Ah, hell, it did–it made him considerably jealous and angry. Angry that Quatre was moving on. Trowa felt that he shouldn’t–after all, he hadn’t admitted his infidelity to Justin (to this day, he denied it!), and apologized to Trowa for it, despite knowing that Trowa knew!
Well...that wasn’t going to work, either. That was old news. He’d wanted Quatre to move on. He wanted Quatre to forget all about him and shack up with another boy...NOT!
Just knowing that Quatre was looking to be with someone else made Trowa angry. Jealous. Morbidly jealous. No matter the fact that he currently was with Sylvia. No matter that Trowa himself figured that he was over Quatre–because he really wasn’t.
Ah, hell, he was just turning around in circles. First he was thinking that he was over Quatre, then he was thinking that he wasn’t–then he was thinking that he wasn’t jealous when in actuality, he was–! Damn, this situation was pretty tough. Too much complication for him. He wanted out, and he wanted out yesterday.
He had to separate himself from his usual haunts and find one where he wouldn’t be located, and that meant hiding in the school parking lot, in the first unlocked car he’d found. Sylvia was crying around about how he didn’t support her during her fight earlier (she knew that he’d supported Quatre during his fights, and used that against him accusingly), and that she was pissed at him because it was obvious he had unresolved issues for his ex. Demanding that he stop thinking whatever it was he was thinking about Quatre and pay more attention to her, Sylvia had just found a brick wall where Trowa had been standing. Trowa didn’t do female hysterics–he had enough from his sister to last him a lifetime. So, he’d escaped from her, and had escaped from everyone else–Jared, the druggies, Drake...he even turned off his cellphone so that he wouldn’t have to bother with it.
Now, smoking in someone’s car in the school parking lot, Trowa had to resolve a lot of things before coming to a conclusion about things. First off–Quatre. Okay...he was going to admit that he was jealous. He was jealous because others were seeing in him what he’d seen before, and because he fucked up, Quatre was free for others to appreciate. And while Trowa had admitted that he was moving on, that he didn’t need Quatre anymore, there had been things that had told him otherwise. He missed the boy, yes, but that was only because they were slowly growing friendly with each other once more, so he was under the boy’s influence once again.
And Quatre, when he was friendly with someone, caused anyone’s defenses to fall. In a way, he himself was defenseless and lacked the ability to be outright mean to someone–he only said things that offended people because people were too soft to really know the truth (which is what Trowa firmly believed). And the boy was fun to be with–hello Drama! Well, Trowa had a problem with it, because it was always as if the two were embroiled in it constantly...but now that he had a taste of it, and it was now gone, things sure looked plenty different! It was as if he hadn’t lived until Quatre came along.
And the sex...
He sighed. The sex had been absolutely phenomenal...and to know that his ex was sharing with Triton Bloom (that bisexual fucker) and with this Jake guy made him feel totally stupid. He’d thrown away a very good thing for someone in Spain, and he was paying for it. Completely. Yes, the money Une was sending him due to the sales of the video was nice, but it was all wrong. He’d thrown his relationship with Quatre away because of one stupid mistake. Well...several of them, actually.
They had had a very good thing, and he’d been the one to fuck up.
He sighed again, dropping his head back against the seat. The situation was pretty bad, and just knowing that he still had feelings for Quatre made things even worse. Because while he could take Quatre being single and doing his thing with those two asses, it was another to know that he was. It was complicated. And then again, it wasn’t.
His conflicting emotions about the entire thing was a bad thing. He wanted to be sure. And there were a few things he was sure about, but then again, he wasn’t sure if he were sure that he was sure....ahem.
Now...Sylvia...okay. He was in a relationship with her. Granted, they had not gone all the way–they hadn’t even freaking kissed, for God’s Sake! Whenever she tried, he’d duck and turn away. It was just that he wasn’t ready to go into that aspect. After all, a woman had taken him away from Quatre; what was this one going to do with him? He was sure Sylvia knew that he had feelings for Quatre, still. He was so morbidly obvious...but while she raged and angered over that, she reluctantly let him angst over it. As if she knew she couldn’t change his mind, and used only what she was given. Quite frankly, Sylvia was a pretty intelligent and wise girl for her age.
Trowa had to give her that maturity, but there were times, like today, when she wasn’t quite mature.
Fighting with Felicia–the only reason why the Bitch hadn’t knocked Sylvia out was because of her position on the team. She merely kept Sylvia from slamming into her, and grappled, but Trowa knew the Bitch was more than capable of knocking someone out with a single punch. So, he had to reluctantly give her that, and thank her for not hurting the girl.
But he wasn’t going to say that out loud...no, he’d never give Felicia that satisfaction. As far as he was concerned, he was still pissed at her for taking Quatre into another direction.
Well, anyway, back to Quatre–so, he was going to the dance with Max. Trowa had to grunt with satisfaction. At least he was going to. He could spy on the couple, make sure they didn’t get too close. The image of them even slow dancing or talking to each other, lips practically on ear, made him bristle with jealousy. Then he had to scowl at himself. He had to wonder what Quatre thought when he saw Trowa with Sylvia, so he had to take back that bristle–albeit reluctantly. But then again...did Quatre even think of him the same way?
“God. My life is HELL!” he shouted within the silence of the unknown person’s car. He brought his cigarette to his lips and scowled as he finished it.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Jared looked up from his notebook, to see Quatre peering at the vending machine. What was with that boy and vending machines, lately? It seemed that this was the only times Jared ever had the chance to catch him, so he staked out this spot a majority of the time. Really, it was better to hide out in the open, than trying to sneak in places where the boy was popular. His hands were shaking with excitement as his and Middie’s plan seemed definite in scoring a win over Quatre Winner. It was obvious, from the look of the boy, that things weren’t right with him. He was getting a frosty soda from the machine, and chugging that down like a thirsty dog in the Sahara...which meant that things were working. Jared fairly vibrated in place, repressing a squeal.
Quatre had to be on a slight high from the drugs that he was absorbing rather unknowingly from the socks he wore, and Jared had to admit that he would have never thought of this! Soon, when Ramos discovered that his star player’s using, he and Middie would have the pleasure of seeing him rot with the trouble he would get into for it! It would be absolutely devastating and it would destroy his chances with college ball should he consider that aspect of his life. To destroy the life of another they both despised made him tingle all the way down to his toes. Quatre loved basketball–that much was obvious. And to wreck it all with this ingenious plan–!
He watched the blond walk away, moving with jerky movements toward the stairway, as if he were ready to sprint. He’d heard that the Double G caused an adrenaline rush like no other, making a body react in a hurried way. He wondered if the blond even realized that he was high...?
He had to laugh, lowering his notebook. He had to tell Middie this situation. This was just absolutely fucking fantastic...!
Meanwhile, as Quatre made his way up the stairway, he decided that he’d talk to Max tomorrow, before school started. He just felt much too weird...maybe he was coming down on something...he shrugged to himself as he walked five flights up to his level, hearing his cellphone ring. It was tucked in his shirt pocket, and he retrieved it, seeing a familiar number.
“What do you want?” he grumbled as he held onto the hand rail.
“Nothing. How do you feel, man? Getting cold feet, yet?” Jake asked, and Quatre could hear a grin on the boy’s face. In the background, Michael was shouting over and over for Nemo. “We haven’t lost a game yet, sonny. Yet, Darken’s lost to Duncan Jones on their home turf...So that makes you, what? Eight out of nine? Give it up, Winner. You’ve lost already. Save yourself the time and stay in your room when we come around.”
“Fuck you! Stop calling me!”
Jake just laughed, and hung up, having finished his daily quota for Quatre-Irritation.
Quatre glared at his cell in irritation, and shook his head. That guy was getting on his nerves, and his calls weren’t intimidating him–just pumping him up for the confrontation on court. Jake was saying he’d school him, but wait until Quatre put his mind to the game–he was going to make sure the older boy was crying by the time his team left Darken’s campus. Even if it meant playing dirty.
He chuckled demonically, and made his way to his room. Walking in, he sighed at the condition of his room, and shut the door. He kicked aside a few articles of clothing, and flopped down onto his bed. Sighing, he wondered when this feeling would go away...and why it was bothering him in the first place. Maybe his body was just overworked, letting him know that it needed more food...hell. He didn’t have to diet anymore–it wasn’t like he was trying to impress Trowa anymore.
He shifted his chin onto his forearms, staring into the darkness of his room. Trowa...just thinking about him made him feel nostalgic and sad. He wanted to talk to him, but then again, he didn’t want to give him the wrong message. He didn’t want Trowa thinking that he was trying to come back to him–he wasn’t, but the idea was...somewhat...comforting. In a way, he ached for Trowa’s return–he wanted to be with the boy–he wanted to be call pet names, and to be kissed and hugged, and–
He shook his head. Why in the hell was he thinking this way? What was wrong with him? Why was he suddenly so focused on Trowa lately? Maybe this thing, knowing that he was with Sylvia, bothered him. He really didn’t care about the girl–she was fun to talk to, but ever since Felicia had begun having troubles with her, she’d become really short with him. He wasn’t even involved with their drama, but Sylvia glared at him and made him feel as if he had started everything. But he wasn’t really bothered with her....not in the way that had him glaring at her and wishing he could just–
The knock at his door startled him, and he dropped his cellphone onto the floor. He walked over to the door, and opened it, looking out.
Triton stood there, looking a little sheepish. Quatre felt his face flush with embarrassment, and Triton’s did, as well. If they talked...it would be the first time since that night, not counting on court. The senior made a sheepish shrug.
“Can I come in?”
Quatre wasn’t sure if he should, but curfew wasn’t for an hour and a half. And besides...it wasn’t as if they were going to be doing anything. He shrugged, and let the door open, Triton walking in and promptly tripping over a basketball. Quatre turned on the lights as Triton caught his footing.
“Sorry. I need to clean my room.”
“It looks the same as it did last time, man. Really.”
“What’s up?”
Things were definitely more different than they were before. For one thing, their personalities, so bristling and conflicting before in terms of flirt and chase, had certainly dimmed. It was very embarrassing to face someone after such a night, and Quatre could feel his own embarrassed heat warm his body as he sat on his bed.
Triton looked the same, rubbing the back of his neck, giving the floor a thorough study before looking at him. “Listen...uh...I figure I should...talk to you about things.”
“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Quatre muttered, embarrassed as he picked at his pants. “I mean, things just happen...you know?”
“Yeah, but...shit. It...maybe it shouldn’t have happened that way...er...I mean...thinking about it now makes me pretty damn mortified. I mean...I talked all that shit, then couldn’t get it up.”
Quatre snorted, his face reddening at the memory. “Yeah. Same...same here. I mean...we had too much alcohol and stuff, and–and it probably wasn’t right, anyway.”
“Yeah. I guess I shouldn’t drink so much. I mean...I mean, it’s not like I’m new to it all, I just...I just had too much to drink. You were pretty wasted, too.”
“Yeah, I know. It was the first time I drank in a long time. So it hit me hard.”
“Hmm. Well...you know, I just thought that I set things straight. I mean...what...what do you feel about it?”
“What do you mean?” Quatre asked, looking at him curiously. Triton was entirely nervous, shifting from foot to foot, looking at everything but him. And when he did look at him, his expression was entirely sheepish and embarrassed, shifting away to start the process all over again.
“I mean...you know...would you ever consider trying...trying to go there again?”
Quatre stared at him in silence, his face flushing as Triton’s flushed. The room was suddenly too small and awkward. His words closed up in his throat, and it felt as if his heart was slamming harder and harder against his rib cage. As if it were trying to escape. Really, what the hell was wrong with him?
“I....I don’t....I don’t know...I mean...It’s not like...I mean...”
“Quatre, listen,” Triton said, moving toward him. Quatre felt himself draw back at Triton lowered himself to the floor on his knees, pressing forward to rest his hands on his knees. Really, this wasn’t appropriate, and it was entirely wrong–! “I’ve been after you for a long time. You’re a tease. You’re hot one minute, and then the next, you’re all cold. It isn’t as if you’re in a relationship, or anything–your ex is with someone else, now, and–!”
“I don’t know! I don’t know...”
“Are you turned off by me? I mean, what is it about me that turns you off? I know what I’m doing, and I know what we both want. It’s not like...I mean...it isn’t like we’re going to get married, or anything! I’m being honest with you, man. I really...really want to have you...”
“Shit, Triton, it’s not like that–!” Quatre stuttered, leaning back on his palms as Triton drew closer to him, his face nearly in his. “Are you throwing yourself at me? What the hell?”
“Yes, I guess I am,” Triton said quietly, leaning forward still, so that Quatre was practically on his back, and the older boy was on top of him. Quatre felt himself stiffen as he felt one of the senior’s hand reach up, running through his hair. That unfamiliar rush within his system seemed to intensify at that one touch. Damn it! Why couldn’t he remember why he disliked the guy? It seemed as if everything were suddenly intensified, and his closeted horniness had sprung out like a jack-in-a-box. He couldn’t think straight!
“I am throwing myself at you, Quatre Winner,” Triton murmured, lowering his lips to Quatre’s. The blond froze as the senior kissed him, his lips firm and slightly dry on his. His eyes were wide, and he wanted to push him off–but he couldn’t move! Think sane thoughts! Think sane thoughts!
When Triton’s tongue dipped into his mouth, tasting of mouthwash and something sweet, he felt his defenses drop. Hell. The senior was right, anyway, and he’d given in–plus, it just seemed okay in this moment. Yes. Just okay. Not great that he was giving in, but okay in that this made perfect sense. Besides...his dick was suddenly thinking for him, and was agreeing to this unwelcome invitation!
He relaxed against his bed, giving a soft sound as he returned the kiss, feeling utterly eager for this. He drew his arms up and around Triton’s shoulders, drawing him close. The older boy moved more firmly between his legs, nearly pressing down onto him with his weight. It was welcome, and solely appreciated, this contact. He felt the senior’s hands moving over his legs, and underneath his shirt, and he had to pull his head back, feeling rushed and shoved into this.
He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he should take back his acquiescement and tell the guy to fuck off, or just let things continue. He felt shaky and jittery as he felt Triton’s hands wandering over his bare skin. He had to keep in mind that he hadn’t had sex in a long while, and when they drunkenly fooled around the first time, it wasn’t like this. This time, both of them were very sober.
When he felt Triton’s face shift to his neck, he grumbled a warning that he didn’t want hickies. Triton merely chuckled, using his teeth to run over his skin. Quatre felt overly jittery at the contact, shifting his hands to hold onto his shoulders, not really bothering with reciprocation. Sure, he didn’t feel anything for the senior–but sex was sex. He should just focus on the feelings, and not on the guy. Yes. Putting it that way made more sense. Besides, he could just pretend that it was Trowa that was sliding his pants down his hips rather than Triton Bloom.
Yes...putting it that way made it even better. He closed his eyes, thinking of how Trowa’s hands felt on him as they tenderly caressed his hips, gently nudging his pants even lower. He could feel his tongue on his neck, gentle suctions of lips against his collarbone...thinking of things this way made it a little easier to participate. He began moving into the action, shifting so that he could help with the removal of his clothes. When the other removed his clothes, Quatre could imagine seeing Trowa’s naked form before him rather than Triton’s. He shifted so that he could place small kisses against the unfamiliar collarbone, thinking of the small freckles that Trowa had there, and could imagine that he could smell Trowa. He felt Triton’s hands moving over his body, fingers gently caressing and massaging, and moved at the quiet request.
He moved onto his belly, grumbling that he hadn’t a chance to explore the other’s body, and lifted his hips when Triton coaxed him to. When a pillow was shoved underneath, he sighed, bemoaning the lack of foreplay. Then he had to chuckle to himself, because he wondered if this was how Trowa most often felt when he demanded that they delve immediately into things. Hmm...something to consider should he ever sleep with Trowa again. The next time, if there was ever a next time, he’d make sure that they prolonged things. He shifted onto his elbows, hearing metallic foil being manipulated, and made an uncomfortable frown.
Goodness gracious, he was actually going to go through with this–! He was still a little numb that he was taking another partner, and squirmed uncomfortably when he felt Triton position himself behind him. He felt his legs nudged aside, and he gripped his bed sheets, a little tense for the unfamiliar feel of someone else’s cock against his body. Triton used both hands to spread his ass cheeks, exposing him fully to the senior, and he felt a little uncomfortable like that. His thumbs delved over his opening, and Quatre squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the senior’s fingers rubbing over the pucker that gave entrance into his body.
But instead of feeling latex covered dick, he gave a surprised gasp at the obvious feel of Triton’s mouth there. His tongue was exploring this part of him, and Quatre was more than mortified at this knowledge. He heard the senior give a few soft sounds in appreciation, his tongue delving in interesting places, and Quatre could only lay there, staring wide-eyed at his bed. He was mortified, but at the same time, it felt pretty good. In that naughty, Oh-How-Forbidden! sort of way. He squeezed his eyes shut again, hearing himself respond to the actions, feeling how Triton used the tips of his fingers to open him.
Shifting uncomfortably, he spread his legs further to give the senior more room to access, feeling his face heat with embarrassment at this encouragement. He dropped his head to hide his flaming skin against the mattress, feeling fingers delve into his body. It was wholly uncomfortable, as it had been awhile since this had happened, and he shifted with an annoyed grumble that it hurt.
He felt Triton kissing his ass cheeks, his tongue wetting the bony protrusion of his tail bone. It was still embarrassing that the senior was giving his ass so much attention, and Quatre glanced back at him, over his shoulder. It was obvious Triton really really liked this part of his body, worshiping every inch with a relish he felt a little self-conscious over. The senior then shifted, trailing kisses over his spine, crawling up so that Quatre realized he was going to penetrate him.
He heard his own snarl seemingly years ago, when he had replied that he’d never let the senior on his ass. Oh, how he wanted to laugh and smack himself at the same time for that comment. Look where it brought him. He gave a muffled sound of pain as Triton entered him, rather forcefully, a pleasure filled moan spilling from his lips.
“Geez! A little more gently!” Quatre muttered, wincing once more as the senior began moving, pumping into him. It wasn’t as if he were overly large, or thick–just that it had been awhile, and Triton was moving way too fast and with way too much eagerness. He was starting to feel cheated with this rush of movement and felt entirely regretful for every letting this happen. He clenched his bed sheets, shifting underneath him, trying to get into a better angle so that things felt better. He winced again as Triton leaned over him, his hips slapping against him. The latex covered dick was quite forceful, and Quatre gritted his teeth as he took it all, inwardly berating himself for this position. He should have been top, damn it.
Suddenly, he felt Triton slowing down, and rolled his eyes, releasing his death grip on the sheets. He felt the senior lower his upper chest against his shoulders, his arms shaking as they were position on either side of Quatre’s. The blond lifted an eyebrow, wondering what the hell was going on back there. He felt Triton pump into him a couple of times, then stop again, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped onto his back.
Glumly, Quatre wished that he’d stayed downstairs to watch the new episode of “The OC”, even if he hated it and hated the followers. It would have been much better than being here, being pounded into by some guy that wasn’t very good with sex. And here, wasn’t Triton a senior, and supposed to have more experience with it? That he’d pull some fancy moves of experience and pleasure rather than just plain animal fucking? He’d seen dogs perform with more grace...fuck. What a decision to make.
“I’m sorry,” Triton suddenly whispered to him, kissing his shoulder, trailing down to his neck. “I’m moving too fast. I’m just...so excited...I need to calm down.”
You need to get that thing out of me and go back to your own room, Quatre inwardly grumbled, shifting again, wincing at the connection.
Triton shifted off of him, his hands holding onto his hips, and moving in a slower thrust that wasn’t quite as painful as the first ones were. Quatre frowned again, wishing for the guy to hurry up and come, or do something else to make this at least a little more better experience...
Triton’s hands moved over his hips, his fingers brushing over the connection where his thigh met hip, and lower still, to play with his balls. The feeling was good, if not awkward. Quatre had to scrunch his eyes to concentrate on this as the senior stopped thrusting and focused with playing with him.
Yes...yes, this was starting to feel better. He stopped focusing on the awkwardness of the situation and focused on the way Triton was stroking him, his thumb and forefinger squeezing him in a pleasant roll that had him thrusting slightly into the grip with a soft moan. He sensed Triton’s pleased reaction, feeling the senior shift almost all the way out of him. His hand suddenly tightened on his cock, and he thrust in an angle that hit his prostate. Quatre’s eyes widened with both pain and pleasure, and Triton thrust again in that same angle, rendering him into a shaky mess of goo. He began moving with this position, wanting more of that same move, Triton’s hand stroking him in that same action. He could feel his body responding rather nicely to the entire stimulus, his thighs burning slightly with the position.
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and thought of how Trowa pumped into him, the tall goth with his sweaty thighs against the back of his, the way his hands stroked him in a pleasant grip that was both soft and firm at the same time. He could even smell the guy, with the thick musk of his sweat and the smell of sex, and gave into the image of Trowa doing him.
If he kept thinking that it was Triton that was behind him, he’d lose it all in pure exasperation. He felt Triton leaning over him again, kissing his ear, his tongue snaking over the shell. He leaned into the kiss, hearing the senior whisper over and over about how good he felt, about how hot he was, about how much he loved fucking him in this manner.
Suddenly, Triton pulled out of him, and gently turned him around. Image ruined, Quatre grumbled about the switch, but immediately shut up to focus on things when Triton push his legs up, hooking his knees over his shoulders. When he entered him again, with a low breath of pleased satisfaction, Quatre closed his eyes and thought about Trowa once more. Triton’s movements were eager once more, his dick slamming in and out, but it was easier to work with as the muscle had relaxed with the previous movements. Feeling a little crushed in the position he was in, Quatre reached up to push lightly at Triton’s chest, but the senior ignored the subtle request, or interpreted it wrongly, because he began moving faster. Feeling bent in half, Quatre gripped his forearms, finding them sweaty and thin, lacking the meat needed to feel more secure in holding onto him. He’d lost the pleasure of it all, grunting from the impact his ass was receiving.
When Triton realized he wasn’t into this, he stopped moving, whispering apologies as he kissed him. Glad that the overeager actions were over, but not done, Quatre focused on kissing him back, lacking the intensity he’d had for Trowa, but showing Triton that he still had interest in the act. Triton let his legs off his shoulders, gently pushing his knees onto the mattress, and angled himself so that he was once more hitting the spongy mass of nerves in Quatre’s body.
The blond gave a satisfied sound, his head tilting back to escape Triton’s lips as he concentrated on this. It felt even better when Triton began stroking him in time of his thrusting. The bed squeaked noisily with the actions it was forced to perform, the headboard rattling noisily against the wall. Quatre heard himself getting louder as the hot, burning sensation in his lower body signaled an impending orgasm, and he gripped Triton’s shoulders tightly, moving his hips with the older boy’s. Triton let go of his cock, leaning in close against him, so that it was rubbed against the lower part of his body. The sensation felt fleeting, gripping, and different than being pumped by hand, but the effect still felt the same.
Quatre moved his legs, tilting into a more comfortable position as Triton shifted, his mouth finding his neck, kissing and nibbling as he continued thrusting.
And suddenly, before he could realize it, Quatre came with a low shout, surprised that it crept up onto him with unexpected results. It wasn’t the same as the ones he had with Trowa, but it was still an orgasm. He gripped Triton’s shoulders, his fingers curling inward into muscle, his hips straining upward as the senior kept pumping into him. Feeling drained and somewhat sated, he relaxed onto the bed, Triton slowing his movements as he appreciated his expression. He brushed Quatre’s hair from his face, and kissed his forehead, then his nose, shifting out of him once more.
He instructed him back onto his belly, and feeling more than pliable due to the aftereffects of his orgasm, Quatre complied, and didn’t care what the senior did after that. Finally...after so long, he’d had sex, and it was adequate enough for him to feel mildly pleased with the results. When Triton climbed over him again, resuming his seemingly tireless pumping, Quatre didn’t care. He just clutched the bed sheets and sighed with contentment.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
The next morning, Trowa hustled to class, not wanting to wait for Sylvia. She was a little irritated that he ran out and hid from her last night, and plus, he’d made the decision that if his ex was going to start dating, he wanted to know the person he’d chosen to show interest in. And that meant getting to know Max Sheridan.
Really, what did anybody know of Max? Besides the fact that he was more than gorgeous, and had moved to New Park City from Louisiana? Nothing. No one really knew anything about him. He could be a mass murderer in disguise...he was just looking out for his ex, that’s all.
He found the pretty boy in the hallway leading away from the cafeteria, nibbling at an apple and carefully balancing his books underneath his arm.
“Hey. Hey!” Trowa called, hurrying over to him.
When Max looked at him, Trowa was careful to resist wanting to hold him still so that he could try and find the exact coloring of the guy’s eyes with his color pencils. He had to grudgingly admit, he was very good looking. Smooth lines, clear skin, beautiful lips–er...tie...shit. He could actually see Quatre with the guy. They’d complement each other with racy colors and pretty boy likenesses...it would be like Real World Manga-Style...or something. Anyway, he had a mission to do.
“I want to talk to you,” Trowa grumbled, hating that he’d always been drawn into Max’s captivating power.
“I...oh. Okay,” Max said, with some obvious uncertainty as he lowered his apple to his side.
Trowa scowled at him, focusing all his intensity at the guy, to somehow reduce the smaller guy’s aura of confidence. But Max just stared up at him with a curious expression, disregarding all of Trowa’s intimidation methods. Well...not all of them...
“My name’s Max Sheridan, by the way.”
“Whatever. I just want to make sure you’re not playing around with him.”
“With...with Quatre? Um...no. No, why would I do that?” he asked, obviously befuddled to Trowa’s reasoning. “He’s a very interesting individual that I’d like to get to know. Since I’m new to the area, I figured that going to a dance would be a nice ice-breaker.”
“Whatever. Who are your parents? What do they do? Where did you move here from?”
“Uh...well...first of all, I’d like to know who you are, and why you’re asking all this,” Max countered with a frown, turning to face him. Really, he was so much smaller than Trowa and Quatre, but he didn’t seem to mind the difference in height.
“I’m his ex. And I’m very protective over him. There are really stupid jerks around here that think they can step all over him, thinking he can take that sort of bullshit, but I’d really not like it if someone comes out of no where and starts shitting all over him just because he can!”
Max stared at him in silence, then smiled cautiously. “Wow...you still have feelings for him, don’t you?”
Trowa stared at him, giving him the evil eye. This good guy crap wasn’t going to work on him. “Just answer my questions.”
“All right. My parents are Bob and Janice Sheridan. Bob is a computer technician for Capricorn Electronics, and my mother owns Shapely Cosmetics. I moved here from Yuma, Arizona, because my mother had an opportunity to expand her business in cooperation with Capricorn Enterprises. And if you must ask, my intentions toward your ex are honorable–he truly seems like an interesting person that I would like to get to know. Even if we develop a friendship, or if things don’t click between us, I will be glad to have met him.”
Trowa absolutely hated this good boy act of his. Quatre was not going to be compatible with this goodness of this. Quatre was not going to get along well with him. Max was far too...pure (he wanted to say), and Quatre was going to be intimidated by it. He lowered his eyebrows into a menacing scowl, and shook his head.
“Knock off the fucking act, shithead. There’s always a motive! You’ve got a motive hidden underneath all that image, don’t you?”
Max gave him a confused expression, sensing his hostility. He shook his head to deny it when Trowa advanced on him, wanting to slap that good-boy expression off his face. Max took note of this stance, frowning, but standing his ground. Actually, for someone to judge him as such made him a little angry.
“Look...you don’t know me. I don’t know you. I really like that you’re trying to look out for him, but to think that I’m doing this for something very stupid in that sense is really insulting.”
“I just want to make sure he isn’t going to get hurt.”
“More than likely, he’ll decide on that himself. I’m not the type to use someone, or judge them based on what other people say,” Max said firmly, glaring at him. “I would like to find out for myself on what a person is like. If we’re not compatible, then we’re not. And, really, this is up for him to decide. Why are you trying to make his decision for him?”
“I’m not. I’m just looking out for him.”
“Does he know you’re doing this?”
“Don’t fuck around with him,” Trowa warned, turning and walking away.
Max frowned after him, shifting his books underneath his other arm. Really, he could tell Trowa had feelings for Quatre, but it was obvious that something was keeping them apart. And Trowa was jealous–that had been fairly obvious. To come up and confront him over things...but that was something to keep in mind. A jealous ex could be something entirely unexpected and wholly disastrous in the end. He had to tread carefully.
“Balla” Chingy
Duo looked over at Hiiro, watching the Japanese talk with Winnie and Otto over something concerning the latest Sunfire and Lakers game. He had to admit, since they both talked about having feelings for each other, things were rather fantastic between the both of them. It seemed that since then, they spent more and more time together, getting to know each other all over again. In a way, it was absolutely beautiful...and as far as he could tell, no one knew the real truth. They thought they were just friends–real close friends.
He had to snicker, because only they knew what the real thing was between them.
Practice had slowed, into a playful scrimmage between first bench and second bench, and right now, Ramos was lecturing Paul, Mariemaia, Brian, Derrick and Triton on better offense measures, and showing them new tactics on which they could use on-court. So, Duo was playing with the others, and having a swell time of it. He just felt like he was on Cloud 9 with the knowledge that his long time crush had feelings for him. It was the best feeling one could have.
He looked over at Hiiro once more, imagining what it would be like to progress onto ‘other’ things. Such as kissing. He wanted to know what it would be like to kiss Hiiro Yuy. Relena had once said it was like kissing a brick wall, but she’d been on the rag that day, so Duo didn’t take her very seriously. But he had to imagine that it was hard and steely, with Hiiro’s muscles being so strong and unyielding, his lips soft and dominating–
“Boner much?” Colin asked him with a slow drawl.
Duo shook himself out of his dreams, looking at him in shock. Shit! “What?” he squeaked, feeling his face turn utterly red that he’d been caught staring at Hiiro with his thoughts on his face.
Colin scoffed, pointing in Hiiro’s direction. But it wasn’t Hiiro he was pointing at–just some group of girls that were standing beyond him, at the doors leading into the gym. Duo exhaled forcefully, then laughed as Colin looked at him curiously.
“Yeah. You can say that!” Duo said on a chuckle, looking for the ball. Quatre had it (of course), and was dribbling with his left while keeping it from Felicia. “So...what’s going on, man? Who are you taking to the dance?”
“I’m not thinking of that, guy,” Colin replied, shaking his head. “I’m thinking about Stanton. I need to focus on Stanton. I heard they were top-notch, and to see them play–! Fuck! They’re fuckin’ tough!”
Duo nodded in agreement, remembering their games against them last year. “Yeah...they really were. They are, actually. They’re tough–top in the league, and all their players are fuckin’...better than anything. It’s like, ya gotta be a professional to be all up in that school.”
“We ever win against them? I mean, like, ever?”
“Yeah. The school won state against them a few times in the past, but...hell, they’re fuckin’ competition for all schools in all of the state! They’re the ones we have to beat if we’re going to make it. I mean, we’re in for sure even if we lose this game, but...still, I don’t wanna let them have all the points in the end.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Last year, the first game we played against them, we’d only lost by twenty or so. But that was cuz of Quatre, man. He plays awesome when he’s all into it.”
“He slackin’ off, then?”
“Yeah. Hiiro was saying he really cut down on the intensity since last year.” Duo looked in the blond’s direction with a scoff. “I mean, he was like, way bad. We were always fighting with him, but this year, he really cut down on that shit.”
“So is it better for him to be shitty rather than friendly?”
“If it means winning against Stanton, I don’t fuckin’ care.”
“Whatever, Duo. You’d be all up in his shit about stuff, and getting yourself all thrown out of the game!” Colin laughed. He caught the ball that Hiiro tossed at him as he walked over. “What’s going on, bud?”
“Nothing.” Hiiro looked at Duo. “You going to dinner?”
“Yeah. I’m starving.”
“Let’s go, then. Practice is over.”
“See ya guys,” Colin said, waving at them as he walked away.
Duo looked at Hiiro, lifting an eyebrow as they walked over to the bleachers to take off their gym shoes. “So...what’s up? You look like you have something on your mind...”
“Well...” Hiiro looked down at his shoes, frowning thoughtfully. Duo sat down next to him, untying his shoelaces, waiting for him to speak. “That dance...after the game...I was wondering...”
When he trailed off and didn’t speak for several long moments, Duo raised both eyebrows, reaching up to remove his headband. His sweaty hair slid across his eyes as they widened with faints surprise. “Yes?”
“Well...what’s...what’s going to happen? I mean...are you going with someone? Did you...”
Duo felt uncomfortable with that subject, hunching his shoulders as he sighed. “I don’t know. I mean...I didn’t want to say anything because...I didn’t know what was going to happen...you know.”
“Yeah,” Hiiro said, glancing at him. He took off his shoes, replacing them with a pair of outside ones. “What... What happens when it comes to that? I mean...I don’t...I don’t think I can...not yet...”
Duo smiled faintly, nodding as he changed out of his gym shoes. “I know. Me, too. I mean, I know...I know male couples are common, it’s just...people always thought we were straight.”
“And we were, it’s just...”
“Yeah, I know. How to explain this one? I mean...it’s weird. It’s not conventional, or anything.”
Hiiro nodded in agreement, then looked at him. “But...the dance...”
Duo looked at him, pausing in tying his shoes. “Yeah...? Are you asking me? Or...are you just askin’ to see if we should take someone else?”
“...I don’t know. What do you...I mean, I don’t feel ready to do it, yet, but...people are asking, and...”
“Yeah.” Duo then shrugged. “I don’t know, man. I really don’t. I mean...I’m not ready. You’re not ready. Should we just...should we just take other people, and just...hang out? I mean...”
“I was thinking among those lines, but then, wouldn’t it be awkward? I mean...aren’t we kind of...going out already?”
“I don’t know,” Duo said softly, shrugging again. “Would you consider us going out? I mean, right at this moment? I mean...making us a couple right now...?”
“I don’t know.”
They both shrugged, and finished their individual business. Then, both of them pausing, they looked out at the court, towards the members that were still playing. Duo stared at Triton, who was laughing with the others as they talked about something. Come to think about it, the senior hadn’t bothered with Quatre since that one game. In fact, it was as if the senior were continually making efforts to ignore him. The blond as well. Duo had to wonder if the rumors were true, and they were just embarrassed about it. He snickered, then looked at Hiiro, elbowing him.
“Hey...I mean, if you want...we can go together. Just...alone, like. You know? Just show up without dates, but hang out...”
Hiiro looked at him, then chuckled. “That would be obvious, Duo.”
“I know. I know.”
Hiiro looked at him again, blinking slowly. He straightened, tugging on his jacket. “Do you...do you want to? I mean...these girls are asking, and I wanted to see what you...what you were doing, first.”
Duo licked his lips nervously, really quite touched that Hiiro had done so. It made him feel very happy inside. He looked at Hiiro again, then shrugged a shoulder. “Let’s just...I don’t know. I mean...if we aren’t ready to really do that just yet...let’s just...take dates. I mean...y’know? And we’ll just hang out together. Who knows? Maybe they might ditch us to be with each other.”
They laughed quietly, then picked up their bags, heading off the bleachers. Hiiro elbowed Duo, watching as the long haired one looked at him. “You’re cool, Duo.”
“Yeah...you too.”
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
After practice, Quatre wiped his brow, and went to change his shoes. Felicia had left him to run off with her friends, and so he planned on walking to the cafeteria on his own. He hadn’t told her that Max had asked him to the dance–that was sort of embarrassing. She would probably just tease him about it, and he really wasn’t up to it.
He felt a little odd–it felt as if his heart were racing a million miles per hour, and he couldn’t seem to calm himself down. Practice had been hard, granted, but it hadn’t been that exciting. And his senses felt overblown–it felt as if he could hear everything and anything, process things quickly and with much more abandon, and he felt particularly edgy. Granted, it felt like a major adrenaline rush, and an unwelcome one at that. His stomach clenched suddenly, in a particular way that made him feel rather blah. At that thought, he figured he wasn’t hungry. Somehow, the thought of food made his stomach feel much more funny. So he changed out of his shoes and left the gym.
As he breathed slowly and deeply, trying to will his body to calm itself, he wondered about Trowa. The boy had acted very funny earlier that day–taking something that clearly didn’t belong to him, accusing him of using drugs–which made him wonder why someone would send him drugs? It wasn’t as if he were going to use them, or anything. Trowa had just mentioned that it was in an envelope with his name on it, and he’d thrown the thing away.
But why would Trowa do that in the first place? Quatre felt a little odd in that he knew, just knew, that Trowa still had feelings for him. And he had to wonder at his own. Standing next to the other today had made him feel ultra content–secure was the word.
But...but he was angry at Trowa. For cheating on him with Une. And for rendering him lacking in the self-esteem department. After all, it was Trowa that didn’t want to touch him when he gained a few, er, ten pounds. And it was Trowa that started this entire situation...so...thinking about it, would Quatre even consider getting back with him, if that were possible?
Sure, there were times, he admitted, when he missed him. Missed his company, and his words–even his stupid pet names. But then, there were others, when he felt as if he could do without him.
Maybe he was just thinking this way because he was feeling lonely. He just needed a companion, or something, someone that he could...treat as a boyfriend kinda thing. A...well, shit. When the hell did he start thinking this way? He’d gone without a boyfriend since and before Trowa, he could do it now. It wasn’t as if the world depended on one having one.
As he reached the dormitory, he thought about Max. Max was interested in him enough to ask him to the dance. And Quatre had to wonder, without the distraction of sakura petals, bubbles and insane beauty; what made Max so intriguing? Yeah, the boy was something to look at–there was no doubt about that area. But what made him attainable? He really didn’t know the boy!
What was his personality like? His likes and dislikes? His age? The place he came from before here? Those that tried to get to know him declared him ‘nice’, ‘sweet’, and all that...but could Quatre do with ‘nice’ and ‘sweet’? The first few times they’d spoken, Max had been meek and cutely shy, and while Quatre had been operating on short-firing brain synapse impulses, he had to admit that such qualities weren’t all that.
After all, it didn’t explain Max’s individual characteristics or thoughts and views...he was just a cute face with obscenely cute...er...earrings.
Smirking, Quatre made his way up to his room. Now, with Trowa, he’d found humor, definite thought and definite content. In Justin...eh, the sense of doing something bad. And Triton? Well...that explained itself. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to get to know Max. Max didn’t seem his type. He just said ‘yes’ because Trowa pissed him off and because...well...hell. Max’s beauty had distracted him. But if he didn’t know Max, then why should he spend hours at a stupid school dance with him? Especially when he didn’t dance? It just seemed rather pointless...
He walked into his room, slapping his bag down. He decided to take a shower, kicking off his shoes and sliding on his shower slippers. Taking a change of clothes, he padded down to the bathroom, still feeling entirely excited. Well, that didn’t seem like the proper word. More like...wired.
He took a shower, changed into his pj’s, and made his way back to his room. He had this impulsive idea to talk to Max, to get to know the sucker before the dance came. Which was in, like, a week and a half. That way, once he got to know him, and he decided he didn’t want to go to the dance with him, he could stop it before it even grew close. Yeah...that was a good idea.
So, he went in search of Max Sheridan.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Fuming, Trowa puffed around his cigarette, staring off into the distance. So, Quatre was going to the dance with that new guy. While he felt like he definitely didn’t care, his resulting thoughts and manners were obvious. It made him mad that Quatre was going with Max–it just didn’t fit. Somehow, it just didn’t. And it wasn’t that Trowa wasn’t jealous (because he was denying that he was), or that Quatre was doing something entirely different from his usual way of thinking (can one really see Quatre Winner at a damn dance?)–it was just the fact that Quatre was doing this to spite him. He’d seen the look in his eyes at lunch–doing this just to make him jealous and angry.
Well, it wasn’t going to work–for long. Well...very well. Ah, hell, it did–it made him considerably jealous and angry. Angry that Quatre was moving on. Trowa felt that he shouldn’t–after all, he hadn’t admitted his infidelity to Justin (to this day, he denied it!), and apologized to Trowa for it, despite knowing that Trowa knew!
Well...that wasn’t going to work, either. That was old news. He’d wanted Quatre to move on. He wanted Quatre to forget all about him and shack up with another boy...NOT!
Just knowing that Quatre was looking to be with someone else made Trowa angry. Jealous. Morbidly jealous. No matter the fact that he currently was with Sylvia. No matter that Trowa himself figured that he was over Quatre–because he really wasn’t.
Ah, hell, he was just turning around in circles. First he was thinking that he was over Quatre, then he was thinking that he wasn’t–then he was thinking that he wasn’t jealous when in actuality, he was–! Damn, this situation was pretty tough. Too much complication for him. He wanted out, and he wanted out yesterday.
He had to separate himself from his usual haunts and find one where he wouldn’t be located, and that meant hiding in the school parking lot, in the first unlocked car he’d found. Sylvia was crying around about how he didn’t support her during her fight earlier (she knew that he’d supported Quatre during his fights, and used that against him accusingly), and that she was pissed at him because it was obvious he had unresolved issues for his ex. Demanding that he stop thinking whatever it was he was thinking about Quatre and pay more attention to her, Sylvia had just found a brick wall where Trowa had been standing. Trowa didn’t do female hysterics–he had enough from his sister to last him a lifetime. So, he’d escaped from her, and had escaped from everyone else–Jared, the druggies, Drake...he even turned off his cellphone so that he wouldn’t have to bother with it.
Now, smoking in someone’s car in the school parking lot, Trowa had to resolve a lot of things before coming to a conclusion about things. First off–Quatre. Okay...he was going to admit that he was jealous. He was jealous because others were seeing in him what he’d seen before, and because he fucked up, Quatre was free for others to appreciate. And while Trowa had admitted that he was moving on, that he didn’t need Quatre anymore, there had been things that had told him otherwise. He missed the boy, yes, but that was only because they were slowly growing friendly with each other once more, so he was under the boy’s influence once again.
And Quatre, when he was friendly with someone, caused anyone’s defenses to fall. In a way, he himself was defenseless and lacked the ability to be outright mean to someone–he only said things that offended people because people were too soft to really know the truth (which is what Trowa firmly believed). And the boy was fun to be with–hello Drama! Well, Trowa had a problem with it, because it was always as if the two were embroiled in it constantly...but now that he had a taste of it, and it was now gone, things sure looked plenty different! It was as if he hadn’t lived until Quatre came along.
And the sex...
He sighed. The sex had been absolutely phenomenal...and to know that his ex was sharing with Triton Bloom (that bisexual fucker) and with this Jake guy made him feel totally stupid. He’d thrown away a very good thing for someone in Spain, and he was paying for it. Completely. Yes, the money Une was sending him due to the sales of the video was nice, but it was all wrong. He’d thrown his relationship with Quatre away because of one stupid mistake. Well...several of them, actually.
They had had a very good thing, and he’d been the one to fuck up.
He sighed again, dropping his head back against the seat. The situation was pretty bad, and just knowing that he still had feelings for Quatre made things even worse. Because while he could take Quatre being single and doing his thing with those two asses, it was another to know that he was. It was complicated. And then again, it wasn’t.
His conflicting emotions about the entire thing was a bad thing. He wanted to be sure. And there were a few things he was sure about, but then again, he wasn’t sure if he were sure that he was sure....ahem.
Now...Sylvia...okay. He was in a relationship with her. Granted, they had not gone all the way–they hadn’t even freaking kissed, for God’s Sake! Whenever she tried, he’d duck and turn away. It was just that he wasn’t ready to go into that aspect. After all, a woman had taken him away from Quatre; what was this one going to do with him? He was sure Sylvia knew that he had feelings for Quatre, still. He was so morbidly obvious...but while she raged and angered over that, she reluctantly let him angst over it. As if she knew she couldn’t change his mind, and used only what she was given. Quite frankly, Sylvia was a pretty intelligent and wise girl for her age.
Trowa had to give her that maturity, but there were times, like today, when she wasn’t quite mature.
Fighting with Felicia–the only reason why the Bitch hadn’t knocked Sylvia out was because of her position on the team. She merely kept Sylvia from slamming into her, and grappled, but Trowa knew the Bitch was more than capable of knocking someone out with a single punch. So, he had to reluctantly give her that, and thank her for not hurting the girl.
But he wasn’t going to say that out loud...no, he’d never give Felicia that satisfaction. As far as he was concerned, he was still pissed at her for taking Quatre into another direction.
Well, anyway, back to Quatre–so, he was going to the dance with Max. Trowa had to grunt with satisfaction. At least he was going to. He could spy on the couple, make sure they didn’t get too close. The image of them even slow dancing or talking to each other, lips practically on ear, made him bristle with jealousy. Then he had to scowl at himself. He had to wonder what Quatre thought when he saw Trowa with Sylvia, so he had to take back that bristle–albeit reluctantly. But then again...did Quatre even think of him the same way?
“God. My life is HELL!” he shouted within the silence of the unknown person’s car. He brought his cigarette to his lips and scowled as he finished it.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Jared looked up from his notebook, to see Quatre peering at the vending machine. What was with that boy and vending machines, lately? It seemed that this was the only times Jared ever had the chance to catch him, so he staked out this spot a majority of the time. Really, it was better to hide out in the open, than trying to sneak in places where the boy was popular. His hands were shaking with excitement as his and Middie’s plan seemed definite in scoring a win over Quatre Winner. It was obvious, from the look of the boy, that things weren’t right with him. He was getting a frosty soda from the machine, and chugging that down like a thirsty dog in the Sahara...which meant that things were working. Jared fairly vibrated in place, repressing a squeal.
Quatre had to be on a slight high from the drugs that he was absorbing rather unknowingly from the socks he wore, and Jared had to admit that he would have never thought of this! Soon, when Ramos discovered that his star player’s using, he and Middie would have the pleasure of seeing him rot with the trouble he would get into for it! It would be absolutely devastating and it would destroy his chances with college ball should he consider that aspect of his life. To destroy the life of another they both despised made him tingle all the way down to his toes. Quatre loved basketball–that much was obvious. And to wreck it all with this ingenious plan–!
He watched the blond walk away, moving with jerky movements toward the stairway, as if he were ready to sprint. He’d heard that the Double G caused an adrenaline rush like no other, making a body react in a hurried way. He wondered if the blond even realized that he was high...?
He had to laugh, lowering his notebook. He had to tell Middie this situation. This was just absolutely fucking fantastic...!
Meanwhile, as Quatre made his way up the stairway, he decided that he’d talk to Max tomorrow, before school started. He just felt much too weird...maybe he was coming down on something...he shrugged to himself as he walked five flights up to his level, hearing his cellphone ring. It was tucked in his shirt pocket, and he retrieved it, seeing a familiar number.
“What do you want?” he grumbled as he held onto the hand rail.
“Nothing. How do you feel, man? Getting cold feet, yet?” Jake asked, and Quatre could hear a grin on the boy’s face. In the background, Michael was shouting over and over for Nemo. “We haven’t lost a game yet, sonny. Yet, Darken’s lost to Duncan Jones on their home turf...So that makes you, what? Eight out of nine? Give it up, Winner. You’ve lost already. Save yourself the time and stay in your room when we come around.”
“Fuck you! Stop calling me!”
Jake just laughed, and hung up, having finished his daily quota for Quatre-Irritation.
Quatre glared at his cell in irritation, and shook his head. That guy was getting on his nerves, and his calls weren’t intimidating him–just pumping him up for the confrontation on court. Jake was saying he’d school him, but wait until Quatre put his mind to the game–he was going to make sure the older boy was crying by the time his team left Darken’s campus. Even if it meant playing dirty.
He chuckled demonically, and made his way to his room. Walking in, he sighed at the condition of his room, and shut the door. He kicked aside a few articles of clothing, and flopped down onto his bed. Sighing, he wondered when this feeling would go away...and why it was bothering him in the first place. Maybe his body was just overworked, letting him know that it needed more food...hell. He didn’t have to diet anymore–it wasn’t like he was trying to impress Trowa anymore.
He shifted his chin onto his forearms, staring into the darkness of his room. Trowa...just thinking about him made him feel nostalgic and sad. He wanted to talk to him, but then again, he didn’t want to give him the wrong message. He didn’t want Trowa thinking that he was trying to come back to him–he wasn’t, but the idea was...somewhat...comforting. In a way, he ached for Trowa’s return–he wanted to be with the boy–he wanted to be call pet names, and to be kissed and hugged, and–
He shook his head. Why in the hell was he thinking this way? What was wrong with him? Why was he suddenly so focused on Trowa lately? Maybe this thing, knowing that he was with Sylvia, bothered him. He really didn’t care about the girl–she was fun to talk to, but ever since Felicia had begun having troubles with her, she’d become really short with him. He wasn’t even involved with their drama, but Sylvia glared at him and made him feel as if he had started everything. But he wasn’t really bothered with her....not in the way that had him glaring at her and wishing he could just–
The knock at his door startled him, and he dropped his cellphone onto the floor. He walked over to the door, and opened it, looking out.
Triton stood there, looking a little sheepish. Quatre felt his face flush with embarrassment, and Triton’s did, as well. If they talked...it would be the first time since that night, not counting on court. The senior made a sheepish shrug.
“Can I come in?”
Quatre wasn’t sure if he should, but curfew wasn’t for an hour and a half. And besides...it wasn’t as if they were going to be doing anything. He shrugged, and let the door open, Triton walking in and promptly tripping over a basketball. Quatre turned on the lights as Triton caught his footing.
“Sorry. I need to clean my room.”
“It looks the same as it did last time, man. Really.”
“What’s up?”
Things were definitely more different than they were before. For one thing, their personalities, so bristling and conflicting before in terms of flirt and chase, had certainly dimmed. It was very embarrassing to face someone after such a night, and Quatre could feel his own embarrassed heat warm his body as he sat on his bed.
Triton looked the same, rubbing the back of his neck, giving the floor a thorough study before looking at him. “Listen...uh...I figure I should...talk to you about things.”
“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Quatre muttered, embarrassed as he picked at his pants. “I mean, things just happen...you know?”
“Yeah, but...shit. It...maybe it shouldn’t have happened that way...er...I mean...thinking about it now makes me pretty damn mortified. I mean...I talked all that shit, then couldn’t get it up.”
Quatre snorted, his face reddening at the memory. “Yeah. Same...same here. I mean...we had too much alcohol and stuff, and–and it probably wasn’t right, anyway.”
“Yeah. I guess I shouldn’t drink so much. I mean...I mean, it’s not like I’m new to it all, I just...I just had too much to drink. You were pretty wasted, too.”
“Yeah, I know. It was the first time I drank in a long time. So it hit me hard.”
“Hmm. Well...you know, I just thought that I set things straight. I mean...what...what do you feel about it?”
“What do you mean?” Quatre asked, looking at him curiously. Triton was entirely nervous, shifting from foot to foot, looking at everything but him. And when he did look at him, his expression was entirely sheepish and embarrassed, shifting away to start the process all over again.
“I mean...you know...would you ever consider trying...trying to go there again?”
Quatre stared at him in silence, his face flushing as Triton’s flushed. The room was suddenly too small and awkward. His words closed up in his throat, and it felt as if his heart was slamming harder and harder against his rib cage. As if it were trying to escape. Really, what the hell was wrong with him?
“I....I don’t....I don’t know...I mean...It’s not like...I mean...”
“Quatre, listen,” Triton said, moving toward him. Quatre felt himself draw back at Triton lowered himself to the floor on his knees, pressing forward to rest his hands on his knees. Really, this wasn’t appropriate, and it was entirely wrong–! “I’ve been after you for a long time. You’re a tease. You’re hot one minute, and then the next, you’re all cold. It isn’t as if you’re in a relationship, or anything–your ex is with someone else, now, and–!”
“I don’t know! I don’t know...”
“Are you turned off by me? I mean, what is it about me that turns you off? I know what I’m doing, and I know what we both want. It’s not like...I mean...it isn’t like we’re going to get married, or anything! I’m being honest with you, man. I really...really want to have you...”
“Shit, Triton, it’s not like that–!” Quatre stuttered, leaning back on his palms as Triton drew closer to him, his face nearly in his. “Are you throwing yourself at me? What the hell?”
“Yes, I guess I am,” Triton said quietly, leaning forward still, so that Quatre was practically on his back, and the older boy was on top of him. Quatre felt himself stiffen as he felt one of the senior’s hand reach up, running through his hair. That unfamiliar rush within his system seemed to intensify at that one touch. Damn it! Why couldn’t he remember why he disliked the guy? It seemed as if everything were suddenly intensified, and his closeted horniness had sprung out like a jack-in-a-box. He couldn’t think straight!
“I am throwing myself at you, Quatre Winner,” Triton murmured, lowering his lips to Quatre’s. The blond froze as the senior kissed him, his lips firm and slightly dry on his. His eyes were wide, and he wanted to push him off–but he couldn’t move! Think sane thoughts! Think sane thoughts!
When Triton’s tongue dipped into his mouth, tasting of mouthwash and something sweet, he felt his defenses drop. Hell. The senior was right, anyway, and he’d given in–plus, it just seemed okay in this moment. Yes. Just okay. Not great that he was giving in, but okay in that this made perfect sense. Besides...his dick was suddenly thinking for him, and was agreeing to this unwelcome invitation!
He relaxed against his bed, giving a soft sound as he returned the kiss, feeling utterly eager for this. He drew his arms up and around Triton’s shoulders, drawing him close. The older boy moved more firmly between his legs, nearly pressing down onto him with his weight. It was welcome, and solely appreciated, this contact. He felt the senior’s hands moving over his legs, and underneath his shirt, and he had to pull his head back, feeling rushed and shoved into this.
He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he should take back his acquiescement and tell the guy to fuck off, or just let things continue. He felt shaky and jittery as he felt Triton’s hands wandering over his bare skin. He had to keep in mind that he hadn’t had sex in a long while, and when they drunkenly fooled around the first time, it wasn’t like this. This time, both of them were very sober.
When he felt Triton’s face shift to his neck, he grumbled a warning that he didn’t want hickies. Triton merely chuckled, using his teeth to run over his skin. Quatre felt overly jittery at the contact, shifting his hands to hold onto his shoulders, not really bothering with reciprocation. Sure, he didn’t feel anything for the senior–but sex was sex. He should just focus on the feelings, and not on the guy. Yes. Putting it that way made more sense. Besides, he could just pretend that it was Trowa that was sliding his pants down his hips rather than Triton Bloom.
Yes...putting it that way made it even better. He closed his eyes, thinking of how Trowa’s hands felt on him as they tenderly caressed his hips, gently nudging his pants even lower. He could feel his tongue on his neck, gentle suctions of lips against his collarbone...thinking of things this way made it a little easier to participate. He began moving into the action, shifting so that he could help with the removal of his clothes. When the other removed his clothes, Quatre could imagine seeing Trowa’s naked form before him rather than Triton’s. He shifted so that he could place small kisses against the unfamiliar collarbone, thinking of the small freckles that Trowa had there, and could imagine that he could smell Trowa. He felt Triton’s hands moving over his body, fingers gently caressing and massaging, and moved at the quiet request.
He moved onto his belly, grumbling that he hadn’t a chance to explore the other’s body, and lifted his hips when Triton coaxed him to. When a pillow was shoved underneath, he sighed, bemoaning the lack of foreplay. Then he had to chuckle to himself, because he wondered if this was how Trowa most often felt when he demanded that they delve immediately into things. Hmm...something to consider should he ever sleep with Trowa again. The next time, if there was ever a next time, he’d make sure that they prolonged things. He shifted onto his elbows, hearing metallic foil being manipulated, and made an uncomfortable frown.
Goodness gracious, he was actually going to go through with this–! He was still a little numb that he was taking another partner, and squirmed uncomfortably when he felt Triton position himself behind him. He felt his legs nudged aside, and he gripped his bed sheets, a little tense for the unfamiliar feel of someone else’s cock against his body. Triton used both hands to spread his ass cheeks, exposing him fully to the senior, and he felt a little uncomfortable like that. His thumbs delved over his opening, and Quatre squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the senior’s fingers rubbing over the pucker that gave entrance into his body.
But instead of feeling latex covered dick, he gave a surprised gasp at the obvious feel of Triton’s mouth there. His tongue was exploring this part of him, and Quatre was more than mortified at this knowledge. He heard the senior give a few soft sounds in appreciation, his tongue delving in interesting places, and Quatre could only lay there, staring wide-eyed at his bed. He was mortified, but at the same time, it felt pretty good. In that naughty, Oh-How-Forbidden! sort of way. He squeezed his eyes shut again, hearing himself respond to the actions, feeling how Triton used the tips of his fingers to open him.
Shifting uncomfortably, he spread his legs further to give the senior more room to access, feeling his face heat with embarrassment at this encouragement. He dropped his head to hide his flaming skin against the mattress, feeling fingers delve into his body. It was wholly uncomfortable, as it had been awhile since this had happened, and he shifted with an annoyed grumble that it hurt.
He felt Triton kissing his ass cheeks, his tongue wetting the bony protrusion of his tail bone. It was still embarrassing that the senior was giving his ass so much attention, and Quatre glanced back at him, over his shoulder. It was obvious Triton really really liked this part of his body, worshiping every inch with a relish he felt a little self-conscious over. The senior then shifted, trailing kisses over his spine, crawling up so that Quatre realized he was going to penetrate him.
He heard his own snarl seemingly years ago, when he had replied that he’d never let the senior on his ass. Oh, how he wanted to laugh and smack himself at the same time for that comment. Look where it brought him. He gave a muffled sound of pain as Triton entered him, rather forcefully, a pleasure filled moan spilling from his lips.
“Geez! A little more gently!” Quatre muttered, wincing once more as the senior began moving, pumping into him. It wasn’t as if he were overly large, or thick–just that it had been awhile, and Triton was moving way too fast and with way too much eagerness. He was starting to feel cheated with this rush of movement and felt entirely regretful for every letting this happen. He clenched his bed sheets, shifting underneath him, trying to get into a better angle so that things felt better. He winced again as Triton leaned over him, his hips slapping against him. The latex covered dick was quite forceful, and Quatre gritted his teeth as he took it all, inwardly berating himself for this position. He should have been top, damn it.
Suddenly, he felt Triton slowing down, and rolled his eyes, releasing his death grip on the sheets. He felt the senior lower his upper chest against his shoulders, his arms shaking as they were position on either side of Quatre’s. The blond lifted an eyebrow, wondering what the hell was going on back there. He felt Triton pump into him a couple of times, then stop again, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped onto his back.
Glumly, Quatre wished that he’d stayed downstairs to watch the new episode of “The OC”, even if he hated it and hated the followers. It would have been much better than being here, being pounded into by some guy that wasn’t very good with sex. And here, wasn’t Triton a senior, and supposed to have more experience with it? That he’d pull some fancy moves of experience and pleasure rather than just plain animal fucking? He’d seen dogs perform with more grace...fuck. What a decision to make.
“I’m sorry,” Triton suddenly whispered to him, kissing his shoulder, trailing down to his neck. “I’m moving too fast. I’m just...so excited...I need to calm down.”
You need to get that thing out of me and go back to your own room, Quatre inwardly grumbled, shifting again, wincing at the connection.
Triton shifted off of him, his hands holding onto his hips, and moving in a slower thrust that wasn’t quite as painful as the first ones were. Quatre frowned again, wishing for the guy to hurry up and come, or do something else to make this at least a little more better experience...
Triton’s hands moved over his hips, his fingers brushing over the connection where his thigh met hip, and lower still, to play with his balls. The feeling was good, if not awkward. Quatre had to scrunch his eyes to concentrate on this as the senior stopped thrusting and focused with playing with him.
Yes...yes, this was starting to feel better. He stopped focusing on the awkwardness of the situation and focused on the way Triton was stroking him, his thumb and forefinger squeezing him in a pleasant roll that had him thrusting slightly into the grip with a soft moan. He sensed Triton’s pleased reaction, feeling the senior shift almost all the way out of him. His hand suddenly tightened on his cock, and he thrust in an angle that hit his prostate. Quatre’s eyes widened with both pain and pleasure, and Triton thrust again in that same angle, rendering him into a shaky mess of goo. He began moving with this position, wanting more of that same move, Triton’s hand stroking him in that same action. He could feel his body responding rather nicely to the entire stimulus, his thighs burning slightly with the position.
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and thought of how Trowa pumped into him, the tall goth with his sweaty thighs against the back of his, the way his hands stroked him in a pleasant grip that was both soft and firm at the same time. He could even smell the guy, with the thick musk of his sweat and the smell of sex, and gave into the image of Trowa doing him.
If he kept thinking that it was Triton that was behind him, he’d lose it all in pure exasperation. He felt Triton leaning over him again, kissing his ear, his tongue snaking over the shell. He leaned into the kiss, hearing the senior whisper over and over about how good he felt, about how hot he was, about how much he loved fucking him in this manner.
Suddenly, Triton pulled out of him, and gently turned him around. Image ruined, Quatre grumbled about the switch, but immediately shut up to focus on things when Triton push his legs up, hooking his knees over his shoulders. When he entered him again, with a low breath of pleased satisfaction, Quatre closed his eyes and thought about Trowa once more. Triton’s movements were eager once more, his dick slamming in and out, but it was easier to work with as the muscle had relaxed with the previous movements. Feeling a little crushed in the position he was in, Quatre reached up to push lightly at Triton’s chest, but the senior ignored the subtle request, or interpreted it wrongly, because he began moving faster. Feeling bent in half, Quatre gripped his forearms, finding them sweaty and thin, lacking the meat needed to feel more secure in holding onto him. He’d lost the pleasure of it all, grunting from the impact his ass was receiving.
When Triton realized he wasn’t into this, he stopped moving, whispering apologies as he kissed him. Glad that the overeager actions were over, but not done, Quatre focused on kissing him back, lacking the intensity he’d had for Trowa, but showing Triton that he still had interest in the act. Triton let his legs off his shoulders, gently pushing his knees onto the mattress, and angled himself so that he was once more hitting the spongy mass of nerves in Quatre’s body.
The blond gave a satisfied sound, his head tilting back to escape Triton’s lips as he concentrated on this. It felt even better when Triton began stroking him in time of his thrusting. The bed squeaked noisily with the actions it was forced to perform, the headboard rattling noisily against the wall. Quatre heard himself getting louder as the hot, burning sensation in his lower body signaled an impending orgasm, and he gripped Triton’s shoulders tightly, moving his hips with the older boy’s. Triton let go of his cock, leaning in close against him, so that it was rubbed against the lower part of his body. The sensation felt fleeting, gripping, and different than being pumped by hand, but the effect still felt the same.
Quatre moved his legs, tilting into a more comfortable position as Triton shifted, his mouth finding his neck, kissing and nibbling as he continued thrusting.
And suddenly, before he could realize it, Quatre came with a low shout, surprised that it crept up onto him with unexpected results. It wasn’t the same as the ones he had with Trowa, but it was still an orgasm. He gripped Triton’s shoulders, his fingers curling inward into muscle, his hips straining upward as the senior kept pumping into him. Feeling drained and somewhat sated, he relaxed onto the bed, Triton slowing his movements as he appreciated his expression. He brushed Quatre’s hair from his face, and kissed his forehead, then his nose, shifting out of him once more.
He instructed him back onto his belly, and feeling more than pliable due to the aftereffects of his orgasm, Quatre complied, and didn’t care what the senior did after that. Finally...after so long, he’d had sex, and it was adequate enough for him to feel mildly pleased with the results. When Triton climbed over him again, resuming his seemingly tireless pumping, Quatre didn’t care. He just clutched the bed sheets and sighed with contentment.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
The next morning, Trowa hustled to class, not wanting to wait for Sylvia. She was a little irritated that he ran out and hid from her last night, and plus, he’d made the decision that if his ex was going to start dating, he wanted to know the person he’d chosen to show interest in. And that meant getting to know Max Sheridan.
Really, what did anybody know of Max? Besides the fact that he was more than gorgeous, and had moved to New Park City from Louisiana? Nothing. No one really knew anything about him. He could be a mass murderer in disguise...he was just looking out for his ex, that’s all.
He found the pretty boy in the hallway leading away from the cafeteria, nibbling at an apple and carefully balancing his books underneath his arm.
“Hey. Hey!” Trowa called, hurrying over to him.
When Max looked at him, Trowa was careful to resist wanting to hold him still so that he could try and find the exact coloring of the guy’s eyes with his color pencils. He had to grudgingly admit, he was very good looking. Smooth lines, clear skin, beautiful lips–er...tie...shit. He could actually see Quatre with the guy. They’d complement each other with racy colors and pretty boy likenesses...it would be like Real World Manga-Style...or something. Anyway, he had a mission to do.
“I want to talk to you,” Trowa grumbled, hating that he’d always been drawn into Max’s captivating power.
“I...oh. Okay,” Max said, with some obvious uncertainty as he lowered his apple to his side.
Trowa scowled at him, focusing all his intensity at the guy, to somehow reduce the smaller guy’s aura of confidence. But Max just stared up at him with a curious expression, disregarding all of Trowa’s intimidation methods. Well...not all of them...
“My name’s Max Sheridan, by the way.”
“Whatever. I just want to make sure you’re not playing around with him.”
“With...with Quatre? Um...no. No, why would I do that?” he asked, obviously befuddled to Trowa’s reasoning. “He’s a very interesting individual that I’d like to get to know. Since I’m new to the area, I figured that going to a dance would be a nice ice-breaker.”
“Whatever. Who are your parents? What do they do? Where did you move here from?”
“Uh...well...first of all, I’d like to know who you are, and why you’re asking all this,” Max countered with a frown, turning to face him. Really, he was so much smaller than Trowa and Quatre, but he didn’t seem to mind the difference in height.
“I’m his ex. And I’m very protective over him. There are really stupid jerks around here that think they can step all over him, thinking he can take that sort of bullshit, but I’d really not like it if someone comes out of no where and starts shitting all over him just because he can!”
Max stared at him in silence, then smiled cautiously. “Wow...you still have feelings for him, don’t you?”
Trowa stared at him, giving him the evil eye. This good guy crap wasn’t going to work on him. “Just answer my questions.”
“All right. My parents are Bob and Janice Sheridan. Bob is a computer technician for Capricorn Electronics, and my mother owns Shapely Cosmetics. I moved here from Yuma, Arizona, because my mother had an opportunity to expand her business in cooperation with Capricorn Enterprises. And if you must ask, my intentions toward your ex are honorable–he truly seems like an interesting person that I would like to get to know. Even if we develop a friendship, or if things don’t click between us, I will be glad to have met him.”
Trowa absolutely hated this good boy act of his. Quatre was not going to be compatible with this goodness of this. Quatre was not going to get along well with him. Max was far too...pure (he wanted to say), and Quatre was going to be intimidated by it. He lowered his eyebrows into a menacing scowl, and shook his head.
“Knock off the fucking act, shithead. There’s always a motive! You’ve got a motive hidden underneath all that image, don’t you?”
Max gave him a confused expression, sensing his hostility. He shook his head to deny it when Trowa advanced on him, wanting to slap that good-boy expression off his face. Max took note of this stance, frowning, but standing his ground. Actually, for someone to judge him as such made him a little angry.
“Look...you don’t know me. I don’t know you. I really like that you’re trying to look out for him, but to think that I’m doing this for something very stupid in that sense is really insulting.”
“I just want to make sure he isn’t going to get hurt.”
“More than likely, he’ll decide on that himself. I’m not the type to use someone, or judge them based on what other people say,” Max said firmly, glaring at him. “I would like to find out for myself on what a person is like. If we’re not compatible, then we’re not. And, really, this is up for him to decide. Why are you trying to make his decision for him?”
“I’m not. I’m just looking out for him.”
“Does he know you’re doing this?”
“Don’t fuck around with him,” Trowa warned, turning and walking away.
Max frowned after him, shifting his books underneath his other arm. Really, he could tell Trowa had feelings for Quatre, but it was obvious that something was keeping them apart. And Trowa was jealous–that had been fairly obvious. To come up and confront him over things...but that was something to keep in mind. A jealous ex could be something entirely unexpected and wholly disastrous in the end. He had to tread carefully.