Trowa was still pouting. Quatre sighed to himself. Four days. Four looong days. And his lover was still sulking. Quatre felt overly guilty for what had happened. It hadn't really been the blonde's fault. He simply asked Trowa to take the pan out of the oven. How was he supposed to know Trowa would forget the oven mitts?

The tall boy had burned his hands quite throughly. Not bad enough to scar, just enough to warrant medical treatment. Now Trowa had to keep his hands bandaged for the next week. He couldn't touch Quatre, hold his hand, feel his skin. To say the least the banged boy was rather unhappy.

Quatre wandered around the kitchen, taking out various food items in an attempt to bake, and therefore release some of his pent up tension. He had already made six pies, three souffles, a two layer cake, a twenty pound turkey, nine loaves of bread, and he was halfway through strawberry shortcake. It wasn't helping.

He was pureeing the strawberries when he heard Trowa shuffle into the kitchen. He turned around to see his lover staring forlornly at the ground, and sighing. Quatre couldn't have expressed it better himself. Four days of not having Trowa be able to touch him. Four days with out the feeling on long fingers in his hair, running over his chest, up his legs....Quatre turned the blender on high.

He missed the light touches, the soft caresses. But the worst part was when Trowa had told him that they couldn't make love until his hands were healed. Trowa said that since his hands were incapacitated he couldn't prepare Quatre fully, and he didn't want to risk hurting him. Quatre had said he would be fine, but Trowa was steadfast. And it wasn't that Quatre couldn't wait, it was just that he didn't want to.

They had been able to do other things, that were definitely satisfying. And it wasn't just that they were fifteen, and they had raging hormones. They loved each other, and they liked to touch. But that couldn't match the feeling of having Trowa take him, fill him, claim him so completely...

Quatre looked at the liquid goo that used to be strawberries. He turned off the blender. This wasn't helping matters. They were both edgy. They needed to relax, to be together. But Trowa was adament about waiting. Quatre pulled the blender off the stand, and looked at the ruined fruit. He could wait. It would only be a week more. He turned around, blender in hand, and saw Trowa trying to itch a spot high on his chest.

The green eyed boy's hands were so throughly banadged they formed thick, shapless gloves around his hands. His shirt was pulled up to mid chest, and he was rubbing a swathed hand over the spot, trying unsucessfully to scratch it. Quatre almost dropped the container onto the floor. No, no. He *couldn't* wait.

But how could he convince Trowa? Wait. What was it Duo had been saying? Quatre racked his brain. oh, yes! Duo had been rambling on about his and Heero's exploits in the bathtub. Duo said that Heero had taken him without lubrication. That the bathwater had been enough. Hmm...how to get Trowa into the tub, without him suspecting. Quatre looked down at the blender, and smiled as the plan came to him.

"Oh, Trowa, let me itch that for you", he said.

When he was close enough the blonde "accidently" tripped, and splatted the entire contents onto his lover's shirt, chest, and pants. Trowa gasped as the fruit hit him, and began to run down his body. Quatre rushed up to him.

"Trowa! I'm so sorry! Oh, let me help you get cleaned up." Quatre grabbed a towel, and tried to wipe off the red liquid that seemed to cover Trowa. He sighed.

"It looks like you'd better take those clothes off so they can be cleaned. And then you should take a shower, and wash it off."

Trowa eyed him funny, not quite trusting him.

"It will be hard to take a shower with my hands like this", he indicated to the large, gauzey lumps at the end of his wrists. Quatre thought for a moment.

"Hmmm. You're right. How about a bath then? I could help you."

Trowa looked at him closely, and then shrugged.

"Ok. I might need help undressing though."

Quatre fought the urge to giggle madly. It had worked! He forced himself to stay calm. Trowa might balk if he caught on too soon. Best to play it innocent.

"Of course I'll help. I mean it was my fault being so clumsy, and all."

Trowa gave him one last suspicious look, and then turned and headed upstairs.

Quatre waited until he was gone, and the danced around the kitchen. Yes! Yes! It was working perfectly! He stopped. What was he doing? He had a gorgeous lover upstairs waiting to be undressed. He threw the blender into the sink, and rushed after Trowa.

The Arabian ran up the stairs, and straight to the bathroom. Trowa was standing in the middle of the spacious area looking at his hands in frustration. He turned around at Quatre's entrance, and lowered his hands to his sides. He sighed angrily.

"I can't..."

Quatre walked over to him, and put a hand on his chest.

"It's ok Trowa. I'll help you. Just relax. I'll do everything."

The blonde backed away, and walked to the bathtub. It was a huge, sunken tub, with three small steps leading up to it. Quatre stepped up, and leaned into the tub, to stop the drain. He knew Trowa was watching, so he stayed bent in that position for a bit longer than necessary. He finally leaned up a little and started the water, adding some bubbles, and various bath oils in.

It smelled sweet, without being overwhelming. And it would hopefully provide enough lubrication. Quatre crossed his fingers, and hoped that all went according to plan. He turned, and walked back to his lover who was waiting patiently for him.

The blonde reached out, and grabbed the hem of Trowa's shirt, sliding it up over his chest. Quatre's hands brushed over his nipples, and Trowa let out a little gasp. He couldn't do anymore than that, because Quatre pulled the shirt over his head, muffling him. It was pulled down his arms, and the Arabian carefully removed Trowa's injured hands from the sleeves. Then Quatre dropped to his knees before Trowa.

The tall boy inhaled sharply. Quatre just smiled, and reached for his shoe. Trowa exhaled, and made a small disappointed noise. The blonde quickly freed his lover of his socks, and shoes, and stood back up, his fingers going for the button of Trowa's pants. The muscles of Trowa's stomach tightened, as Quatre's fingers ghosted across them, and unfastened his pants. The blonde glided the pants down Trowa's long, supple legs. He wore nothing underneath.

The green eyed boy stepped out of them, and Quatre took a long appreciative look at his lover. Trowa seemed to get more stunning every day. Strong, muscular arms, a well defined chest, and those shapely legs. He was well built, but still managed to look lean, and graceful. It was marred only by the sticky, red stain covering his stomach.

Quatre finally realized he was staring when he looked up to Trowa's face, and found his lover blushing. The blonde reached up, and wrapped his arms around the banged boy's neck. He pulled slightly, causing their bodies to rub against each other. Trowa leaned down, and caught Quatre's mouth.

They kissed languidly, with Quatre slowly coaxing Trowa's mouth open. Trowa obliged, and let Quatre's tounge leisurely explore his mouth, as his own tongue unhurridly slipped into Quatre's. The blonde could feel Trowa's enjoyment as it hardened against his stomach.

One teasing hand slid from Trowa's neck, and proceeded to trail down his side. It moved behind him, and began tracing lines up and down the tall boy's spine. Trowa shivered slightly, and Quatre pulled him closer. The green eyed boy moaned into his lover's mouth as his erect flesh was ground into Quatre's stomach. Trowa could feel Quatre's own excitement growing against his thigh.

Quatre's kisses turned more passionate, as the Arabian's tongue worked the banged boy's mouth. Sweet, pink velvet sweeping over every part of that moist heat. Quatre claimed Trowa's mouth, licking all of it, blending their tastes into one. The constant stroking of their tongues making both boys dizzy with desire. And suddenly Quatre moved away.

Trowa whimpered, and moved closer, trying to recapture that delicious feeling. Quatre just skirted away, and tried to catch his breath.

"Trowa..I think you should get into the tub now."

Trowa sauntered over to him. There could be no other words to describe the sexy sway of his hips. The tall boy leaned in very close to Quatre. The blonde could feel the warmth of his exhales on his face.

"Are you sure that what's you want", Trowa questioned, as he lightly brushed a swathed hand over the bulge in Quatre's pants. Quatre bit back a groan, as he forced himself not to lean foward into that caress. As much as he would enjoy it, he had bigger plans. He steadied his breathing, and put his palms on Trowa's chest.

"Yes. You're a mess, let's get you cleaned up."

Trowa's lower lip jutted out slightly in disappointment. He made quite a sight standing there, naked, aroused, and pouting. It took all of Quatre's will not to pull the banged boy on top of him, and let Trowa have his way. But the blonde knew his lover wouldn't be upset for long. He guided Trowa to the tub, and helped him step in. The green eyed boy sank into the water with a sigh of contentment. He placed his banaged hands on the rim of the tub. Quatre kneeled beside him.

"There. Now doesn't that feel nice", Quatre asked.

Trowa smiled slightly, a hint of something in his eyes.

"I know something that would feel nicer."

Quatre gulped. Just who was doing the seducing here? If he wasn't careful Trowa would wear down what little resistace he had, and all of this would be for naught. He smiled innocently, and picked up a nearby sponge, refusing to rise to the bait. He dipped it into the water, and began to carefully wash Trowa's arms. The tall boy frowned at first, wondering why Quatre was being so stubborn, but as the blonde moved the sponge across his skin all coherent thoughts fled.

The Arabian slowly cleaned his arms, and then turned him around and began on his back. The soft, light strokes of the sponge making Trowa's flesh tingle. Quatre dragged the sponge across his shoulders, and worked it in smooth motions down his back. Trowa closed his eyes, and leaned into the touch. The green orbs fluttered open when Quatre abruptly stopped. Trowa turned around to see why, and his breath caught in his throat.

Quatre was slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. Once it was fully opened, he slid it down off his milky shoulders, and let it puddle on the floor. Quatre looked into Trowa's curious eyes.

"It was getting wet, so I thought I'd remove it", he said simply.

Trowa nodded, and turned back around, a knowing smile gracing his features. The blonde picked the sponge back up, and resumed his path down Trowa's back. He moved the sponge lower, and lower, softly cleaning his lover with smooth strokes. He had to lean further into the tub, to reach all the way down. By that time his arms were fully submerged.

"Hmmm", Quatre thought aloud, "this is harder than I thought. It's just hard to get all of you from this angle..."

Trowa smirked to himself.

"Maybe you should get in then. It would be easier that way."

Quatre nodded thoughtfully, as if he hadn't thought of that. He stood up, and walked down the steps. He turned away from Trowa, and bent over to remove his shoes, and socks. He could feel Trowa's hungry gaze burning into him, and he shivered in delight. He straightened back up, and unfasted the button of his pants, and pulled down the zipper. Slowly he slid his pants over his firm, round ass, and down his ivory legs, bending over completely in the process. He heard Trowa gasp.

"Q-Q-Quatre. You weren't wearing underwear.."

"That's right koi. And now I'm not wearing anything."

He kicked his pants away, turned around and stood there, letting Trowa see every inch of his smooth, slender body. Trowa gaped, commiting every curve, every nuance, of Quatre's body to his memory. The blonde was so beautiful. His smooth, pale skin screamed to be touched, caressed.

Trowa cursed his bandages for the millionth time. Quatre walked back over to the tub, and stepped in. He too sighed, as he submersed himself in the warm water. Trowa stared at him ravenously, his eyes darkening with desire. Quatre merely smiled, and grabbed the sponge. He was going to push Trowa to his limits, so the banged boy would be helpless to refuse.

The Arabian shifted, so he was on his knees, and moved closer to his lover. Gently he began to run the sponge over Trowa's muscled chest. Trowa began to pant under the tender strokes. Quatre pushed him back lightly, so that Trowa was laying against the side of the tub, his arms outstretched on the rim.

The tall boy leaned his head back with his eyes closed, and started beathing heavier, as the sponge worked its way lower. It moved down over his nipples, causing him to hiss, and arch slightly upward. Quatre chuckled, and stroked it over his flat stomach. The blonde could feel the muscles tensing as he brushed accros them.

He lingered there, scrubbing away the strawberry mess he'd made earlier. Trowa's breath hitched, as that teasing sponge moved even lower. The banged boy felt the water moving and he opened his eyes, and nearly cried as he saw that Quatre had moved away. He whined in protest. Quatre looked at him, and smiled devilishly. He picked up one of Trowa's legs, and rubbed the sponge over the arch of his foot.

Steadily he moved it higher, up over thin ankles, and shapely calves. He stopped at the knee, and began the same torture with the other leg. Once that was finished the blonde spread his lover's legs, and moved between them. With deliberate movements, he washed Trowa's thighs. Never once touching the throbbing region between them. Trowa thought he would pass out from need if Quatre didn't stop playing.

The Arabian dropped the sponge into the water, and Trowa let out a breath of relief. Finally Quatre would stop tormenting him. He smiled, chest rising and falling rapidly in anticipation. Quatre smiled back.

"All clean. Do you need help getting out?"

Trowa's mouth dropped in shock. He growled and wrapped his legs around Quatre's waist, and pulled. The blonde fell against his chest in surprise. Quatre's own breath started to come quicker as he felt Trowa's erection rubbing against his stomach.

"I think you missed a spot," Trowa whispered. And with that he arched against Quatre, moaning as his rigid cock brushed against that smooth skin. Quatre started panting, as he snaked a hand between them.

"Mmmm, I think that needs to be *hand* washed", Quatre said coquettishly.

The Arabian wrapped his fingers around Trowa's engorged, pulsing cock, and squeezed it softly. The tall boy threw his head back, as fire blazed its way through his veins. That one simple touch had rocked him to the core. His legs turned to jelly, and they fell from their vise like grip around Quatre. Unconsciously he spread those long limbs, giving Quatre free reign to do as he pleased.

The blonde massaged the tip of his arousal, his thumb tracing circular patterns. Quatre rubbed the digit over the opening at the end of his cock, and felt Trowa's pleasure dripping out. He ran his hand up, and down the length of his lover's ample cock, pumping slowly. Trowa thrust up in that hand, urging it to go faster, give him the release he needed.

Quatre continued to pump idly, ignoring the green eyed boy's frantic pleas. A burning heat was scalding it's way through Trowa. It started to pool between his legs, making him forget everything but that satiny hand stroking him. The banged boy could feel himself climbing to his peak. Each measured stroke catapulting him higher, and higher. Trowa's mouth fell open, as he panted.

Every nerve was alive in him, strained and humming. Quatre moved his hand faster. Sliding along Trowa's cock more roughly, more urgently. Trowa continued to thrust into the tunnel the blonde's hand made. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, and imagined it was Quatre's tightness surrounding him, and not just the Arabian's hand.

The green eyed boy was almost to his pinnacle. White hot flames overtook his blood, and coursed through him. Trowa's body quivered with the sensations. Quatre noticed this, and removed his hand. Trowa whimpered piteously, and bucked up, trying to satiate his aching cock. His eyes flew open, as he felt Quatre settling on top of him. Felt the blonde's swollen cock jutting into his stomach.

"Q-Q-Quatre.," Trowa managed to say between pants, "what..what are you doing?"

" Sshhh, love. I want you to take me. I need to feel you inside of me."

Trowa's control was frayed, and he was nearly sobbing with need. But he knew that if he took Quatre this way, he'd hurt his little lover. He was torn, as he felt Quatre shifting over him. But his will to never cause Quatre pain won out. Trowa wiggled around, trying to get out from beneath Quatre. Quatre stopped moving, and sat frozen, a stunned expression on his face.

"Quatre, no. I don't want to hurt you."

Quatre smiled earnestly.

"Trowa, you won't. I put so much oil in, that plus the water will lubricate me."

Trowa steeled himself, and put his hands against Quatre's chest, and pushed lightly. The bandages got a little damp, but at the moment he didn't care. He knew if he didn't get Quatre off his lap, and very soon, that he'd lose his last shred of control, and pound into the boy. Trowa applied more pressure, trying to remove Quatre. Quatre took the hint, and lifted himself from Trowa, scooting back to the other side of the tub. The blonde looked at him, blue-green eyes full of hurt and confusion. A wounded look evident on his cherubic face.

"Trowa. Please. I need you."

Trowa shook his head mournfully, trying to ignore his howling cock. He would have liked nothing more than to bury himself into Quatre, and fuck him until the blonde screamed his name. But he wouldn't. No matter how much he wanted to, he would control himself.

"And I need you too. You don't know how I ache to touch you. But, I can't until my hands are healed. I won't take you without preparation. If I don't stretch you, it will hurt. And I refuse to hurt you."

The injured look left Quatre's face, and was replaced with a wicked smile.

"Whatever you say Trowa."

Trowa was taken aback, as Quatre once again swept forward, and clasped his hand around the banged boy's erection.

"What are you...ohhh...doing?"

Quatre nuzzled his chest, licking around a nipple as he pumped.

"I thought that was rather obvious."

The flames that had died down while they talked, where renewed. Trowa arched his back, and rocked into Quatre's caress. He was rapidly rising again, heat filling his senses.

"Wha...ohhh god...what about....ohhh more....you?"

Quatre squeezed harder, and sped up his strokes. He suckled a hard nipple into his mouth, and smiled around it as Trowa moaned long and low.

"We'll take care of me later. Now relax, and let yourself go."

That was all Trowa needed to hear. The tall boy had been waiting for so long, and the blonde's blistering touch was more than he could take. His climax built up quickly, and ferociously. Every touch sending him closer to completion. Quatre bit down on a pebbled bud, and wildly ran his hand up and down Trowa's rock hard cock, tightening, and releasing as he stroked.

Trowa thrust up, and surrendered to the scorching desire. He let it overtake him. His body tensed, and he cried out, as he spilled himself into Quatre's hand, and the water. Quatre continued sucking his nipple, as Trowa's world exploded. The green eyed boy quaked with the intensity of his release. Quatre kept stroking the softening flesh, with gentle movements. More to soothe, than to arouse. Trowa trembled underneath him, and Quatre ran his finger's along his lover's back to calm him.

Trowa's breath was coming to him in slow pants. He could feel Quatre caressing him softly as his world struggled to right itself. He was still trembling slightly when Quatre released him, and shifted up to claim a kiss. The blonde placed a hand behind Trowa's neck, and pulled him down until their lips met. The banged boy happily opened his mouth for his love, and let Quatre's tongue slip in and caress him.

They stayed like that for a few moments, with their tongues lazily stroking one another. Quatre ran his fingers along Trowa's face, grazing his cheeks, before coming to cup his face in his hands. Trowa made a sound that could only be described as utter delight. He lost himself in the feel of Quatre's tongue moving against his own.

The tall boy pulled himself back, though, as he felt Quatre's neglected arousal pressing into him.