Categories > Anime/Manga > Gundam Wing

Vanilla And Strawberries

by ladydouji 0 reviews

Trowa helps Quatre relax after a rough day.

Category: Gundam Wing - Rating: R - Genres: Erotica - Characters: Quatre, Trowa - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2006-08-05 - Updated: 2006-08-05 - 2103 words - Complete

1Moving
The idea for this fic popped into my head on day on the way to class, and wouldn't let go. It's not my first fic, but it is my first lemon. disclaimers:I don't own these lovely boys they are owned by Bandai. And all characterizations are based on my own interpretations of the series. Warning: Yaoi(means boyz touch other boyz as the incredible Mink puts it) Lemon PWP 4x3 C&C welcome, flames will be mocked and deleted

Vanilla and Strawberries
by Lady Douji

********************** ***

The day had started with incredible promise. Trowa had recently called saying he had some time off from the circus and would be able to visit soon. Quatre had been ecstatic when he heard the news. Much of the day had been spent making plans and in pleasant daydreams. As much he loved Trowa and wanted to be with him always, he knew Trowa was never comfortable staying in one place, or with being pampered, so Trowa stayed with the circus and visited when he could.

But then in late afternoon a disaster had struck. A resource satellite had broken loose and a fire had broken out. Fortunately all of the workers had been rescued, but several had been seriously injured and would spend months, possible years recuperating. Anger burned in his veins as his eyes read over one man's injury list, third degree burns over twenty percent of his body, two shattered ribs, a broken arm, and a severe concussion. Preliminary reports investigating the accident indicated that some basic safety equipment had not been purchased, nor had proper maintenance been maintained, and the money meant for these measures had been embezzled. And now the Safety Director, man Quatre had personally hired despite some council members protests, due to his stunning resume, and glowing accolades from his previous employers had disappeared. Quatre had declared the man's office off-limits to anyone but trained investigators, when hsi secretary reported he had left the office mere minutes after the accident was reported. He was taking no chancing that any sort of information of evidence would be destroyed by bumbling searchers.

With an angry growl, he turned on his comm. and keyed in the number for Preventer headquarters. Just this one last thing, and he could finally go home. Lady Une's image soon filled his viewscreen. Seeing his angry face, she reached for her glasses and put them on.

"Hello Mr. Winner," She greeted him, "What can I do for you?"

"Lady Une," Quatre replied curtly, his hands clenched into tight white-knuckled fists resting on his desk, "I need some of your investigators here on L4. There was an accident on one of my company's satellites due to improper safety measures. It looks as if there were funds embezzled, and my Director of Safety has disappeared. I need some help finding him and getting to the bottom of this incident."

"I understand." Lady Une nodded, "I'll send some of my best people out"

"I'll see to it they get everything they need. Winner out." Quatre ended the conversation abruptly, cutting of the transmission.

Quatre then stormed out of his office, startling his secretary, who had a sudden interest in rearranging the wastebasket. Continuing on to his car, Quatre did not notice people scurrying to avoid him as his eyes promised pain to anyone who annoyed him. The ride home was filled with tense silence as he tried to relax in order to enjoy his time with Trowa, but his body and mind just wouldn't cooperate. Finally he came to the decision he couldn't trust himself to behave and treat Trowa properly. They would have to reschedule their date for a later time.

Finally reaching his home Quatre stalked inside, slamming the door behind him. His butler came up and informed him that Trowa was waiting in the drawing room, and then scurried away as fast as he politely could.

Trowa looked up from the book he had been reading as Quatre walked into the room, his smile fading as he observed the tense and fuming blonde before him.

"Hello Trowa," Quatre said, keeping his greeting short as he paced the room. He was half-afraid that if he spoke too much he would begin screaming. "I had a extremely tense time at work today, and it has left me in a mood completely unfit for company. I'm afraid we'll have to try getting together at a later time"

During this Trowa had carefully placed his book to the side and stood, emerald eyes calmly watching his lover. Deep inside he came to a decision and began to plan how to put it into action

"I understand," Trowa stated, concern and understanding showing at the edge of his one visible eye, "I saw the news reports, it must have been a very trying day"

"You don't even know the half of it." Quatre sighed, pausing to stop and rub his temple in a vain attempt to ease his developing headache, and did not notice Trowa coming up behind him. "I'll have my guest house prepared for you and ohhhh. . . "

The rest of his words were cut off as a pair of strong, finely boned hands came to rest on his shoulders and began a firm and gentle massage, forcing the tension out of his body.

"Uhhh, mmm. Trowa," Quatre tried to stammer out as knots slowly began to ease in his tired muscles, "I'm really not in the mood, ohhhh, and I really think you need to leave."

Trowa, not ceasing the massage, leaned slightly forward and began placing gentle kisses on the back of Quatre's neck, nuzzling the soft flesh behind his ears.

"I'm not going to leave Quatre." He whispered softly, "You need me right now."

Then, with a gentle push, Trowa began guiding the slightly stunned Quatre to the bedroom, never ceasing the gentle pressure on his shoulders. When they had arrived Quatre was surprised that Trowa had already divested him of his jacket, shirt and tie, while Trowa noted with amusement some of the preparations Quatre had ordered for the night. Servants had come in and lit candles, filling the room with the scent of strawberries and vanilla, and the sounds of Beethoven's Fur Elise filled the air.

Trowa quickly removed the rest of Quatre's clothing as well as his own, and laid Quatre face down on the bed.

"Don't move." Trowa ordered, and then turned to rummage through the side table drawers.

Quatre turned his head to watch Trowa, admiring the way his skin glowed in the candlelight, the smooth play of muscles along his back, and his graceful movements. As Trowa turned to face him once more, Quatre felt a smile tug at his lips and moved to get up and caress his lover.

Trowa was on him in an instant, pushing back down to the mattress. "I told you not to move." he said, with a trace of amusement in his voice. "Now just relax and let me take care of everything"

Quatre laid back down somewhat in shock. "This is different." he thought, as Trowa beginning pouring the vanilla scented massage onto his back. "Mmmmm, feels nice, not having to be in control for once, and damn he's good with his hands."

And so it went, Trowa straddled across Quatre's thighs, kneading out the tensions of the day and slowly building another kind of tension. Finally Trowa flipped him over and leaned forward to kiss him. Quatre reached to caress Trowa only to have his hands halted by Trowa's firm grip. Shocked blues eyes gazed up into to calm emerald ones.

"I said to relax and let me take care of everything," Trowa said almost in exasperation.

"Trowa, let me touch you." Quatre demanded, trying to jerk his hands free without hurting his lover.

Trowa merely smiled and pinned Quatre's hands under his thighs. Then he leaned forward to kiss the now slightly annoyed blonde. "No, not yet Quatre, maybe later."

Quatre opened his mouth to protest but found it being gently invaded by Trowa's tongue. Strong hands traced patterns on his chest, teasing him. Quatre writhed under that touch, his blood burning, desperate to do anything.

Then he felt Trowa's hands settle firmly onto his hips, holding him in place, as Trowa slowly lowered himself down Quatre's aching shaft. As he felt himself sliding deep into his lover Quatre wondered when Trowa had prepped himself. His hands had never seemed to leave Quatre during the massage. Coherent thought then left him as Trowa bent down and began sucking on one of his sensitized nipples, moving up and down at a tantalizing slow pace.

Quatre arched his back as far as he could, trying to thrust into Trowa's velvet heat, but was held firmly down; soon he was left softly moaning under Trowa's ministrations. After a few minutes, Trowa looked down on his lover's lithe form; Quatre's skin was now glistening from both the oil and a sheen of perspiration. His eyes were closed in pleasure, his voice low and husky, as he panted out his lover's name, "Trowa. Trowa Trowa. Trowa."

Trowa decided that Quatre was suitably distracted, and finally released his hands, and guided them to his hips. Quatre looked up at Trowa in confusion.

"Just hold me steady." he ordered. His own voice was shaky as he gazed deeply into Quatre's eyes. Feeling Quatre's grip firm; Trowa quickened his pace, forcing Quatre deeper with every move. Trowa watched his love's face contort with pleasure and passion, until finally his body tensed and shuddered as he came. Seeing Quatre relax, Trowa eased off of him and stretched out, ignoring the ache in his loins. He could take care of that later once Quatre was sleeping.

Sagging down into the bed Quatre had never felt so completely relaxed in his life. For several moments he floated in the hazy afterglow, and then his thoughts turned to the one who made him feel so good. Turning on his side Quatre gazed into pools of emeralds filled with love, and little concern.

"Feeling better?" Trowa asked, reaching out and caressing Quatre's cheek

"Oh, yes. Much better." Quatre breathed, leaning over to embrace Trowa. Then he felt something hard press against his leg. Pulling back he looked at Trowa, who seemed rather embarrassed.

"You didn't come." he said, filling with guilt as he realized why Trowa hadn't climaxed. "You were so concerned about me you didn't even think about yourself." Snuggling against Trowa's firm chest, Quatre murmured, "I love you Trowa, and there are times when I wish you would think about yourself before taking care of others, and this is one of those times."

Trowa snorted. "You're one to talk. I bet that if I hadn't been here you would have worked yourself into exhaustion over that mess. And have you even eaten dinner?"

Trowa inwardly groaned at the impish look Quatre got on his face.

"You're right, I would have been pouring over reports all night, and no I haven't had dinner. Not yet anyway." he replied, before diving between Trowa's legs and taking his sex into his mouth like some exotic treat. Trowa gasped in shock and his hands grasped Quatre's silky, soft hair, unsure if he wanted to move Quatre away or hold him there. "Here's another thing we haven't tried," he thought absently trying to absorb all of the sensations Quatre was giving him. "I was always too embarrassed to let him do this before. And when did he learn to do that thing with his tongue?"

All too quickly it ended, he had been so close to edge that after only a few moments he felt himself explode into Quatre's mouth. As the aftershock ran through his body, he felt Quatre lick him clean, and then crawl up to lie beside him. Trowa turned to his lover with a shocked expression on his face and found himself being kissed, with his and Quatre's taste merging in Quatre's mouth.

Ending the kiss, Quatre pulled back and asked, "How long will you be able to stay?"

"I have a week off from the circus, though I could probably angle for more if you need me with you during this."

"I need you with me always Trowa, but when you need to go back to the circus go. Don't stay here because of me. We both know you wouldn't be happy that way."

"We'll talk more in the morning Quatre. Just get some rest now."

Pulling closer to Trowa, Quatre mumbled out, "Alright." And the two loves fell fast asleep in each other's arms.
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