Wings and Tears: Part 13

 

            Quatre slipped into the bedroom. He was exhausted, drained mentally from everything that had gone on in the past few days. He worried for his Chinese friend, his daughter, and for his husband, who was pretending to sleep on their bed. Quatre sighed and moved his aching body into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth fervently, glaring angrily at his haggard reflection. He splashed cool water on his face and then stood to leave the tiled room, flipping the light off as he went out.

            He moved in the darkness, knowing the room well enough to make it to his dresser without bumping into anything. He pulled off his own shirt, aiming perfectly to place it in the bin. Then he bent to remove his jeans. For a moment he considered climbing into to bed like this. Why bother with clothes, he thought. Then he slowly opened the drawer. He began to pull out his silk night-clothes and paused.

            “You know you breathe differently when you sleep.”

            There was a pause and he listened carefully as Trowa moved on the bed.

            “I thought I was doing a good job pretending.”

            Quatre turned to his husband and smiled, “Actually…you were.”

            Trowa thought for awhile then laughed weakly. Quatre forgot his night outfit and moved to turn on the night-stand light. Trowa turned from the light.

            “Trowa?” Quatre asked.

            “Just turn off the light and come to bed, Quatre. I know you’re exhausted.”

            “Trowa?” he asked again, ignoring his husband’s order. He slowly reached out to touch Trowa.

            “My God, Quatre, can’t you just get into bed?!” Trowa snapped angrily. Quatre jumped back from the harsh tone, pulling his hand away before it made contact with his husband. They were both silent for a moment. Trowa’s body shook. He tried desperately to hide his sobs from his husband, but failed. Quatre crawled into bed, flipping off the light and walking to the other side of the mattress. He slid next to Trowa and placed his thin arms around Trowa’s shaking frame. Trowa grasped onto Quatre, pulling the Arabian’s body closer to his and wrapping his arms around Quatre’s waist. He put his face next to Quatre’s neck and breathed deeply, his tears spilled onto Quatre’s flesh and his warm breath pushed against Quatre’s skin. Trowa was also sweating wildly and shivering as if he were freezing. He sobbed into Quatre for a long while. Quatre remained silent.

            “I…I…I couldn’t stop him. I didn’t even try!” Trowa sobbed out. “How can you love me, Quatre?! I’m trash! I’m used and I’m broken! How can you love me? You should be with a prince in shining amour, not the nameless soldier with a broken past.”

            “Hush,” Quatre tried to sooth.

            “No! Tell me, Quatre, how can you love me?” His voice broke and he sobbed again, his eyes were tightly shut.

            “Because I just do. You’ve saved me, Trowa. You gave me a beautiful daughter. You’re my husband, Trowa, my husband,. You’re not trash; I don’t give myself to trash. Trowa, you are a prince in shining amour, you’re my prince. What happened to you wasn’t your fault, it was theirs…Trowa it was their sickness, their evilness. But you, you have never done anything wrong.”

            “I didn’t stop Michael from hurting Hanna.”

            Quatre pressed his lips together, “You couldn’t.”

            “Because I’m not strong enough to get over being raped!” He pulled away from his husband, sat up on the bed. Quatre sat up after him, carefully placed his fingers on Trowa’s back. Trowa stared at the darkened wall. “How did you get to be so strong, Quatre?”

            “You taught me,” he said softly. Trowa turned his head slightly to gain a better look at his husband. Their eyes had become well adjusted to the darkness, and Quatre’s pale face added to the view.

            Slowly, carefully, Trowa turned his entire body around and gathered Quatre into his arms, laying his on the bed and resting on top of him.

            “The past is the past, isn’t it?”

            “Yes, Trowa, even if we wish we didn’t have it, it is the past.”

            “And what about the future?”

            “I don’t know. I guess we just have to accept it.” He moved his knuckles to stroke Trowa’s check. “I don’t expect you to forget your past, Trowa. I just hope you know I don’t hold it against you, and I will never blame you.”

            Trowa bit his lower lip. “I love you,” he whispered.

            “I love you too.”

            Trowa looked up at Quatre, his eyes were narrow, but instead of asking a question to Quatre he leaned up and kissed Quatre’s tender lips. They locked together in this sweet embrace. Quatre opened his mouth to allow Trowa’s tongue inside. The muscle explored Quatre’s mouth, stroking Quatre’s tongue and bringing it to life. It slipped inside Trowa’s mouth and investigated the warm and moist opening and Quatre’s arms wrapped around Trowa’s body. Trowa broke the kiss, playfully keeping Quatre’s lower lip between his teeth just a moment longer.

            He pulled back his head to look at Quatre’s eyes. He kissed Quatre’s forehead and then his each of his eyelids. Quatre giggled. But Trowa’s trail didn’t stop there; he kissed Quatre lovingly on the lips again. Then he moved to Quatre’s neck. Quatre lost himself in Trowa’s soft and affectionate kisses, but as Trowa made it to his right nipple, where he paused to work the pink skin into a hard pebble-like mound, Quatre stopped him by placing a hand on his head.

            “Trowa? Are you sure about this?” Quatre’s blue eyes reflected his worry.

            Trowa smiled, that’s Quatre, always worried about others, about me. “Yes,” Trowa whispered softly and smiled at his husband, lover, and friend. Quatre swallowed and nodded. Trowa’s smile didn’t disappear as he turned back to Quatre’s chest, but before he could get back to work Quatre spoke up again, “Are you sure?”

            Trowa looked back at Quatre, “Yes,” he said, insisting. He would have said more but he was filled with an overwhelming desire to make Quatre scream out his name in lust. He turned back to the nipple, and quickly bent his head to put the colored flesh into his mouth again. He bit it softly, teasing Quatre, and sucked on it. His tongue worked it to the rough round pebble he wished it to be, and then moved to the left nipple. He kept his fingers on the right, pinching it lightly as his mouth worked the other to the same condition. Quatre gasped and moaned, his breathing became harsh and he instinctively placed a hand on Trowa’s shoulder, his hips moved upwards, begging Trowa to move downward. Trowa took his time, carefully massaging Quatre’s left nipple to look and feel like this right.

            As both spots of pink flesh were to his liking he moved slowly to kiss his way down the middle of Quatre’s ribcage. His finger’s remained on Quatre’s nipples a moment longer before they left to slither down Quatre’s sides, tickling him slightly, but his desire-clouded mind only cared about Trowa’s mouth, now on its way down Quatre’s stomach. Trowa found Quatre’s belly-button and he licked it quickly before finding the hem to the only article of clothing his love was wearing. His hands slowly made their way to Quatre’s hips were his fingers hooked into the underwear. Quatre groaned lightly as Trowa swiftly pulled off the cloth. Now that he was completely naked Trowa took a moment to look at Quatre. His eyes were half closed. His neck stretched out as his head rested on a pillow. His mouth was opened slightly. He was so trusting, giving himself to Trowa, begging Trowa to take him. As for the organ, it was very ready for Trowa’s mouth.

            Trowa quickly bent forward to sheath Quatre with his mouth. Quatre reacted immediately. He gasped and moaned louder, trusting his hips up slightly, but also trying to control himself, attempting to not gag Trowa. Trowa didn’t care either way, his mouth, tongue, and neck moved skillfully, forcing more grunts, moans and such noises from Quatre.

            “Trowa…” Quatre grunted out softly. That wasn’t loud enough, thought Trowa and he worked with more vigor. He almost ruthlessly forced sound from his sweet love, sliding his left hand softly over Quatre’s inner thigh. Quatre hooked his ankles around his husband’s back.

            “Oh God, TROWA!” Quatre screamed out as he climaxed, bursting his body nectar into Trowa’s mouth. Trowa swallowed it and then licked Quatre’s leathery skin to make certain he had all of it. Quatre was breathing deeply and harshly. Trowa moved swiftly to lie next to Quatre. He swallowed again before speaking, “I love you,” he whispered. Quatre looked at him, sweat had gathered softly on his pale forehead.

            “I love you too.” He paused, took some shallow breaths. “Lettme return the favor?” His hand began to slide down Trowa’s bare chest, but Trowa stopped him and shock his head. Quatre’s curious eyes looked into Trowa’s wanting green.

            “Roll over.” Trowa said simply, gazing into Quatre’s eyes, pleading. Quatre complied and laid on his stomach, arching his back upwards a little. Trowa carefully pulled off the sweat pants he had been wearing to bed and then came around Quatre. Quatre turned his head a little to look back at Trowa. Trowa looked over Quatre’s body for a moment, treasuring every curve and line. He carefully placed his hands on Quatre’s back, sliding them down Quatre’s spine. He slowly positioned himself perfectly and then his hands slide down Quatre’s soft checks, separating them carefully. Quatre wined softly as Trowa carefully slid himself inside Quatre’s warm opening. Trowa paused to get himself and Quatre adjusted to this familiar and yet always exciting position. Then he slowly pulled out.

            “Faster,” Quatre gasped out and Trowa couldn’t help but smile and he obeyed. Quatre leaned back, almost sitting on Trowa’s lap and this made Trowa able to penetrate Quatre deeper, hitting the spot that made Quatre shudder in ecstasy. Trowa realized that he sounded his own cries as well. Their voices groaned and moaned and screamed together, synchronized with Trowa’s trusting. Trowa gasped and could feel himself coming dangerously close to exploding. His voice became muffled with desire, and he realized he was making the same soft grunts that Quatre was making. He continued to move his hips, even quickened the pace. Then finally the two men came together, their bodies perfectly harmonized.

            “QUATRE!” Trowa cried out to the ceiling and then carefully pulled out of Quatre’s body to draw Quatre away from the sticky mess on the bed sheets. He pulled Quatre to a side of the massive bed. They breathed together for a moment before Quatre swallowed.

            “You’ve…never…sc-screamed….like that…before.” Quatre gasped out, gaining control of his breath. Trowa held Quatre and their body sweat mixed together. He had never screamed like that before.

            “Well...” he sighed, “God, I love you.”

            Quatre smiled against Trowa’s warm chest, “I love you too.”

            The Trowa bent forward to pull the soft blanket around himself and his husband.

 

~~

 

            When Duo had returned to the mansion with Quatre he had found Solo and Heero sitting at the small table in the room Quatre had let Solo use. They had been playing cards, using uncooked beans instead of money. Solo had had a huge pile collected next to him and Heero had had barely enough beans to fill his closed fist. Solo placed down the cards.

            “What does this mean?” Solo said.

            “Its means you win again,” Heero said, throwing his cards on the table, and amidst the angels whoops of pride Heero stated, “Beginners luck.”

            “So…why don’t you move to something easier Heero, like…Go Fish?” Duo joked, startling them. Neither had noticed him come inside the room.

            Now the three of them were sitting at the table…playing Go Fish. Solo was winning.

            “Got any…6’s?”

            “How do you do that?” Heero asked as he handed over the card.

            “Solo, you aren’t, by any chance using your angelic powers, are you?”

            Solo merely grinned at his father and the three burst into laughter. A second cry rang out, muffled, from the Master bedroom.

            “Gee, sounds like their having fun…” Heero commented.

            “To say the least…wait, was the Trowa? He never cries out…at least he never did before…you know like--”

            “The linen closet in Peacemillion.” Heero finished the statement and the two adults looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

            “Do I even dare to ask?” Solo said.

            “Well…during the war we were hormone driven teenagers and--”

            “You’re still hormone driven.”

            “Shut-up, Heero. Anyway, one day Trowa and Quatre snuck into the linen closet…” Duo couldn’t finish, he erupted into fits of heavy, thick laughter.

            Heero looked at his step-son and rolled his eyes, “Genius over here locked them inside.” Duo’s laughter doubled with the telling. “It’s ok though, because sweet little Quatre got him back.”

            “How?”

            Duo stopped laughing, “He put hair dye in my shampoo. Bright Hot Pink. Luckily he was considerate enough for it to be washable, but--”

            “You’re father totally freaked,” it was Heero’s turn to laugh. Solo giggled too, picturing his fathers golden chestnut hair bright pink.

            Duo glared at both of them and yawned. “Christ, I’m tried. Let’s just say Solo won this game and go to bed.”

            “I’m cool with that.” Solo said, smiling.

            “Heero tossed down his cards, “He’s won every other game…”

            “Ok,” Duo said, standing up, “Good-night Solo. Sleep tight.”

            “I won’t have to worry about you two screaming out like that will I?”

            “No, too tried.” Heero said, rubbing his eyes.

            Duo pouted, “You mean we’re not going to compete with the Winner-Barton’s?”

            “No,” Heero said simply, tugging Duo’s braid as a leash, “Good-night Solo.”

            “Good-night.”

            “Bye!” Duo said, as he was dragged from the room, “Ow, Heero, not so rough!”

 

~~

 

            The sliver square convertible sped down the sunlit asphalt road. Painted yellow lines separated the lanes on the street. Surprisingly the sliver car zimming down the road and cutting through the air was the only traffic. Michael’s shoulder length black hair was pulled back at his nape, but stray strands flew into his face and fluttered around his head. His hands were griping the wheel loosely and he stole a glace to Luc. Luc’s eyes were closed and covered with dark glassed. His pink lips were shaped to an excited smile, his head was resting, titled back, his arms were spread over the tops of the two chairs, his arm touched Michael’s back. His blonde hair fluttered with the wind as well and he looked up to see Michael stealing glances at him.

            “Where are we going?” Luc asked, trusting but curious.

            “It’s a surprise,” he answered and pressed the gas pedal harder. The engine picked up speed and zoomed down the street.