Disclaimer: GW and all things associated belong to Sunrise & the Sotsu Agency. The title of this chapter was inspired by Episode 23 (Sex, Lies, and Summer Break) of the Daigaisuke no Ranma series, by Paul Gallegos, John Walter Biles, Jeffrey Paul Hosmer, and David Tai.

NOTE: And now I finish with Autumn Quarter. ^_^ Credit goes out to: Lilias (beta-reader extraordinaire), Ryoko (for holding my hand through the lemony-bits), and Miah & RJ, two terrific friends from BW who helped to inspire this story without even knowing it. Thanks everyone, and please look out for Part Two.

 

NEW EXPERIENCES – PART ONE: AUTUMN

CHAPTER ONE: Sex, Lies, and Winter Vacation

 

       

The morning after Trowa's final—and the day Wufei and Duo left for vacation—the phone woke us up.  It was Trowa's TA; he hadn't score high enough on his test to pass the class.  He was going to have to rewrite his paper.

       

Wufei bristled as he packed the last of his things, mumbling about injustice and the honor code.  I couldn't stop thinking about what Trowa had done to get this chance.  I threw my pillow down at Wufei, trying to make him shut up so I could at least try to think about other things.  

       

Trowa, meanwhile, was not listening to Wufei at all.  He was already sitting at his desk, jotting notes as he flipped through several books.  Maybe it was a bit late, but I was pleased with his commitment to his studies.  Wufei even said goodbye without lecturing, so maybe he felt the same way as I did.

       

I still had two more exams, so I dragged myself out of bed and plopped down at Wufei's desk to study.  Nearly an hour passed before Trowa or I spoke, but I noticed that his initial zeal had worn off.

       

"What's your earliest class next quarter?" Trowa asked out of the blue.

       

"My schedule's the same as this quarter.  Eight o'clock on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Nine on Tuesdays and Thursdays."  I stretched out my arms.  "Why?"

       

Trowa shrugged.  "I'm tired of you and Wufei stomping around while I'm trying to sleep.  I thought maybe one of you would switch beds with me so I can be up in the loft."  

       

"You're in luck.  Wufei was saying asking me the other day if I thought you'd be willing to trade.  He comes in so late in the evening that it's probably a lot more convenient to stumble into bed than climb up to the loft."

       

"And what did you tell him?"

       

I shrugged.  "To ask you.  And if you didn't like the idea, maybe he shouldn't stay up so late studying with Sally."  

 

Trowa smirked.  "Studying?  Are you really that naïve, Quat, or do you think it's cute to act so dense?"

       

I threw my eraser at him.  "Do all people who study together have to be screwing?  With that kind of logic, it means I've been sleeping with Relena since the first week of school."  I looked at the door, imagining how horrible it could've been, had Heero walked in just then.

       

Trowa rolled his eyes and stretched.  "Whatever.  I suppose I'll just have to talk to Wufei when he gets back."  

       

He went to take his shower, leaving me with my panicked thoughts about what the next quarter might be like with him sleeping less than three feet away from me.  What if I talked in my sleep?  Wufei was the kind of guy who would sooner hit me with a pillow than decipher what I was saying.  But Trowa? 

       

And how would I be able to fall asleep, knowing that the guy I wanted to pounce was an arm's length away?  

       

But I could watch him sleep.  I could wake up each morning to see him sleeping near me.

       

How could I even think about him like this, knowing what he was capable of?  Trowa Barton was a jerk.  He slept around for the mere conquest of it (when he wasn't trying to raise his grades, that is).  He made fun of people who followed rules.  He had a temper that drove me crazy.  But he was fun, and gorgeous, and sometimes—when it was just the two of us—he seemed to be a really sweet and understanding person.  Was it that the other guys brought out his bad side?  Was he showing off for them?  Or could it be that he was intimidated by them, and felt more comfortable one-on-one? 

       

I didn't know which was closer to the truth.  All I knew was that if I wasn't even sure he was worth it, I had to get over him.

 

*** 

 

Trowa shut himself in the room for the entire day, only taking a break to say goodbye to Heero.  I tried to give him his space: I practiced piano and violin for several hours after my exams, and spent a lot of time in the lounge so he would have some peace and quiet.  But each time I went back to the room, he was dawdling.  Throughout the next day, I tried to keep him on track.  I stayed in, reading a book and offering assistance if he needed it.  I came back from dinner that evening to find him asleep at his desk, snoring softly.  His head was pillowed on a book of 19th-century history and literature.  As I passed him I lightly struck him on the back of the head.

       

He looked up at me with a groggy expression.  "What the hell was that for?"

       

"Get to work," I grumbled.  If he didn't do well on this make-up paper, to what extremes would he be willing to go?

       

"You're no fun," he complained as he pulled a beer out of the refrigerator.

       

"Nope," I replied, plucking the can from his hand.  "And you should save this until after you've turned your paper in."

       

"Asshole."  He scowled, returning to his studies.  I watched his eyebrows furrow, his lips forming a tiny pout.

       

His lips were made for kissing.  Mental images flew through my mind: Trowa entering Une's office feigning innocence, a chaste kiss gradually becoming so much more....  How far did he go?  Did he really have sex with her to get a second chance?  He must've been good to make up for that term paper.

       

I tried to force those kinds of thoughts out of my head.  I hung my coat on the back of a chair and kicked off my shoes. 

       

Trowa flicked his pencil across the room.  "I can't study with you here.  You're like a mother hen or something."

       

I snorted.  "You weren't doing a very good job when I came in.  I bet you don't even have three pages written yet."

       

He glared.  "And what's it matter to you if I have or not?  It's my grade.  Leave me alone."

      

I frowned, plopping down on the couch.  Screw him.  He was the one who freaked out two weeks ago, not wanting to fail the class.  Clearly he was just being cantankerous, and I wasn't going to be sucked into it.

       

I grabbed a book from Wufei's desk and started reading, ignoring the sporadic clicking of the keyboard and Trowa's exasperated sighs.

       

"Do you want help?" I asked with my eyes still glued to the novel.

       

"No."

       

"You know, this all could've been avoided if you'd put more time into studying and less into dating."

       

He snorted.  "Easy for you to say."

       

His sarcasm was just enough to piss me off.  "Fine then!" I snarled.  "Why don't you run to your TA and screw her again?  Maybe she'll forego the rewrite and just give you an A!"

       

He stood up swiftly, slamming his hands on the desk.  "Would you get off my back?" he growled.  "What is it with you and always thinking you know the right way to do things?  Do you always have to follow the rules?"  His voice shook with rage.

       

I stared at the book, unable to respond.  From the corner of my eyes I could see his feet moved closer to my own; I could feel his stare.  When he spoke again, his voice was low and fierce.  "Have you always conformed to be what everyone expects of you?  Is that why you spent the night with Dorothy?  Do you always go with the flow?"

       

I looked up, meeting his eyes.  "No.  Not always," I retorted, wondering why exactly he thought sleeping with Dorothy would be conformity.  My voice was colder than I had expected.  Trowa's burning glare had a strange effect on me.  I had the urge to tell him everything—how I liked him, how I had kissed him at Halloween, how I wanted to jump him right then and there.

       

He sneered.  "Yeah right.  What have you done?  Turned your homework in late?"  He pushed his hair out of his eyes.  "You've never gone out on a limb, have you, Quatre?  You've never taken chances.  You're so proud of yourself for breaking away from your father and studying music, but you're still walking on eggshells.  You're staying here all winter so you won't have to face the consequences of your actions.  Why don't you take the initiative and tell him how you want to run your own life instead of seeing what you can get away with?"

       

His words stung.  He was right: I was too cautious.  I didn't take chances.  I didn't like to stand up to people.  I followed the rules.  Was there something terribly wrong with what I believed to be right?  Was I a pushover who let people take advantage of me?

       

Trowa was watching me, a smug smile appearing on his face.  He could tell what I was thinking.  He knew that I was questioning my actions, my whole personality.  

       

I didn't like the idea that he knew me so well, while I knew next to nothing about the real Trowa Barton.  I wanted to show him that even I could do something unexpected once in a while.  I could prove to him that I could take risks.  I decided to go out on a limb and do the thing that I'd been suppressing since the first day I saw him.

       

I stood, squaring my shoulders, mustering the strength and courage to say the words that had been running through my mind for three months.  But when I opened my mouth to say it, nothing came out.  My heart raced and my stomach dropped.  Actions speak louder than words, I reminded myself.

       

Crossing the room in two steps, I took his head between both my hands and kissed him squarely on the mouth.  His lips were dry, but soft.  Although it wasn't the first time I'd kissed someone—or even him, for that matter—it felt like it was.  My heart pounded and my mind panicked, wondering why he was frozen.  He wasn't reacting at all—good or bad.  I wondered how long it would take the Residence Life department to put me in a new dormitory.  I broke the kiss and stepped away; my confidence was completely lost.

       

And then he grabbed my shirt and yanked me back toward him.  I closed my eyes, hoping he'd pull his punches just a little.  But he kissed me.

       

He was aggressive and forceful.  When the kiss was finally broken he looked down at me with smoldering, angry eyes. 

       

"Now that's more like what I'm talking about," he said in a low voice.  "I've been waiting all quarter for you to get up the nerve to do that.  When you didn't think I was asleep, I mean."  His words were friendly but his tone was dark.  I was confused.

       

"Y-you were awake?" My voice broke.  "You could've said something!"

       

He grinned sexily.  "I wasn't about to interrupt such a tender moment."

       

This was too much.  I pulled away from his grasp.  "You don't... you don't mind?" I asked meekly.  

       

He approached me again, his fingers lifting my chin to enforce eye contact.  "Are you kidding?"  He kissed me softly and his arms wrapped around my waist.

       

"I thought you liked girls."

       

He shrugged.  "I don't think I have a preference.  I've always been interested in both."

       

I didn't know what to say.  After I had spent the whole quarter thinking I didn't have a chance in the world, here he was kissing me.  I didn't know what to do.  "So then why—?"

       

Trowa leaned into me, running his tongue over my earlobe.  "Just let it happen," he whispered.  

       

I kissed him fiercely.  I allowed my body to do the talking for the two thousand hours I'd known him and wanted him.  My fingers slid under his shirt to feel the bare chest I'd admired from afar, they deftly unbuttoned the jeans that had been my torment.

       

His hands weren't idle, either, and my shirt was removed by the time I thought to lead Trowa to the bed.  I awkwardly removed my socks while trying to lower myself over him, all the while being driven crazy by his lips and hands on my naked chest.

       

I didn't realize how much coordination was involved in getting to third base.

       

"Are you a top or bottom?" he asked between kisses.

       

My face grew hot and he laughed gently.

       

"Haven't got that far?"

       

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.  What if this was the first inefficiency of many?  I never thought I was really a sex-on-the-first-date kind of person to begin with.  But with Trowa?  This could possibly be the only chance I'd get—an all-or-nothing deal.

       

He pushed me back onto my knees and sat up to remove his shirt.  "No need to be scared, Quat.  There are as many different ways to have sex as there are people to do it with.  And you only have to do it if you want to."

        

I flushed again, feeling even more like a fool.  I must've been the most inexperienced person he'd ever been with.  But despite my fears, I wanted it to happen.  "What do you like?" I asked.

       

Trowa shrugged as he unbuttoned my trousers.  "It doesn't matter.  Sometimes I like to be bottom, sometimes top.  Sometimes rimming or sixty-nining is more than enough for me."  His tongue flicked against my lips.  "What are you curious about?"

       

"Everything."

       

Without a word, he knocked me onto my back and removed my khakis.  "Relax," he whispered, removing my boxers and burying his head between my legs.

       

Embarrassed, I closed my eyes.  But soon my unease gave way to new sensations I had only imagined before.  His tongue drove me wild—I could only clench my fingers in his hair and bite down on my lip to control myself.  When he abruptly stopped, I opened my eyes to find him staring at me.

       

"Is that something you like?" he asked with a teasing smile.

       

"Y-yeah."  My voice was hoarse.

       

Trowa crawled up to my side, kissing me deeply.  "Would you like to try anything else?"  He ran his tongue over my collarbone.  "Or would you just like to fuck?"

       

I smiled slowly at him, finding confidence in the fact that he—with all his experience and his ability to get anyone he wanted—chose me.  "Do you want to be bottom or top?"

       

He grinned back at me.  "Usually I go for top.  But I think I'd rather be bottom this time."  He sat up and opened the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out several items.  "Now tell me honestly: did you really sleep with Dorothy?"

       

"Why do you want to know?" I asked, sounding defensive even to myself.

       

Trowa laughed.  "I just want to know what kind of experience you have.  You're still a virgin, aren't you?"

       

I nodded.  "We didn't get much past kissing," I confessed while I tugged on Trowa's jeans.

       

God, he was perfect.  I'd spent my life trying to not check guys out in the locker room, so I was relieved to finally be allowed to linger on this one.  He was thin, but wonderfully built from years of soccer.  I let my fingers explore along with my eyes, lightly running from his knees to his collarbone. Trowa took my hand in his and squeezed cool lubricant from a tube into my palm.  "You know what to do?"

       

I nodded.  Rashid have given me the speech (along with several embarrassing 'how-to' manuals) years ago, when I told him about my orientation. 

       

I coated my fingers generously, watching Trowa as he leaned back and closed his eyes.  He smiled encouragingly when I placed one finger within him.  It felt like nothing I'd encountered before, and I wondered how enjoyable this was for Trowa.  But then he emitted a soft moan and moved his body against mine, and I knew my doubts were pointless.  I added a second finger to stretch him further and he whispered my name.  I suddenly felt self-conscious and put on the spot, so with my other hand I stroked his penis gently.  His sharp inhalation informed me that I made a good choice. He snatched a condom from the nightstand and tore the wrapper open with his teeth, motioning for me to back off.  I withdrew my hands and instantly missed the intimate contact. 

       

"I don't care if you're a virgin, Quat.  I don't have unprotected sex with anyone," his voice was stern, somehow reminding me of my big sister, who I really didn't want to be thinking about right then.  "You don't know where I've been or where anyone's been, so you have to be careful."  He rolled the condom onto me and then coated it with even more lube.  "You can never use too much," he whispered between kisses.

       

He lay down and pulled me with him, wrapping one leg around my waist.   Then he motioned for me to go ahead.  With a deep breath I positioned myself carefully and entered him as slowly as I could bear.  He sucked in his breath sharply and he rested his other leg against my chest and shoulder.  I watched him carefully—I didn't want to hurt him in any way.  

       

"Go on," he whispered hoarsely.

       

I began thrusting slowly, absorbing the sensation of Trowa surrounding me.  He groaned and closed his eyes, his expression intense.  I buried myself as deeply as I could and tried to keep some sort of steady rhythm.  A low growl told me I was on the right track.  His fingernails dug into my flesh and he made a soft, whimpering noise when I quickened my pace. My head was spinning—I knew I'd be finished in a matter of moments.  I wanted Trowa to come before me, so I wrapped one hand around his penis and stroked it in time to my thrusts.  His eyes opened and he grinned up at me, his hips moving to meet the motions of my pelvis and hand.

       

"I knew it," he gasped.  "You're a natural."

       

We only lasted a little longer.  He came first, voicing that erotic, low groan that I'd heard during his night with Sylvia.  I followed shortly after, biting hard on my lower lip to keep from shouting out.  We weren't the only ones in the dorm, after all.  Next time—if there would even be a next time—I'd remember to turn on the radio.

       

I pulled out and fell to the mattress beside him, feeling a combination of weakness and giddiness.  I kissed Trowa earnestly, trying to find some way to thank him for the whole thing.

       

He pulled away with a reckless smile.  "I knew I could get you to stop nagging me about my paper."

       

"Really?" I teased.  "And here I was about to tell you to get back to work."

       

He laughed a low, throaty laugh that I'd never heard before.   "So tell me, Quat.  Are you happy?  Did you have a good time?"

       

"It was incredible.  Was I all right?"

       

"You don't need to worry, Quatre.  If I don't like something, I change it.  You were fine."  He frowned slightly.  "But this wasn't about me.  I wanted it to be great for you."  He brushed my hair out of my eyes, frowning more deeply.  "I should've let you be on the bottom.  I just liked the idea of you—shy, little Quatre—taking me."

       

"Maybe next time?" I asked, going out on a limb.  I'd never seen him date the same girl twice.  But maybe things would be different with me.

       

He looked at me thoughtfully.  "Yeah.  Next time.  I can think of plenty of things I still want to do to your pretty ass.  But first let's go shower."

       

I grabbed my towel, wondering just how close two roommates could get in a public dorm. 

 

***

      

Our six weeks of vacation disappeared--somehow we found ourselves with two days until classes began.  We hadn't wasted our break, by any means.  Trowa and I enjoyed what he called our "tutorials on the finer points of fucking," which were taught anywhere and everywhere.  Trowa considered any isolated location a prime setting for a lesson; I never thought I'd have sexual associations with practice rooms and libraries.  Yet our physical activities weren't what I cherished most about our isolation.

       

I could feel everything changing.  I was becoming less inhibited; he was showing his sweeter side.  Three months before I never would've guessed that I would blow off piano practice in order to make a snowman on the front lawn.  And who would've thought that Trowa would be a snuggly person?  But on Christmas Eve, while we were watching It's a Wonderful Life on TV, he leaned against me on the couch and cuddled.  (What on earth would Duo have said if he had seen that?)   

       

I don't know what the status of our "relationship" was.  We'd never talked about it.  I wasn't ready to ask him if this was something significant for him—let alone lasting.  I wasn't sure if I was ready to share it with our friends, either.  

       

"When will Wufei be back?" Trowa asked as we walked toward our dorm.  We had been at the rec center—a daily event.  He was addicted to jogging and weightlifting, and I was training for the upcoming swimming season. 

       

"His email said sometime tomorrow afternoon," I replied, burrowing deeper into my coat to block the frigid wind.

       

Trowa smiled at me, his cheeks pink from the cold air.  "Good. I can think of plenty of ways to kill the time."  With a mittened hand he yanked me against him and wrapped his arm around my waist.  It wasn't too unusual for him to do this, but there were more and more people on campus now that New Year's Day had passed. 

       

"So when did you decide you liked me?" I asked Trowa.

       

I felt his shrug.  "Well, I was physically attracted to you from the moment I saw you.  But then you went and told me you were straight."

       

"I was afraid that you'd hate me," I confessed sheepishly.

       

Trowa laughed.  "I thought you were trying to find a nice way to tell me you weren't interested.  So I put my feelings for you on the back burner for a while—until that day we wrestled."  

       

"Oh God!"  My face burned with mortification, remembering his reaction to my arousal that day. 

       

He was blushing, as well.  "I'd never been so hard in my life. I was so embarrassed that you knew—and of course you couldn't have even pretended not to know!"  

       

I stopped in my tracks.  "But I thought that you knew about me."

       

He laughed and tugged me by the scarf.  "Who cares, anyway?  The fact is, after Halloween I knew you liked me—so I waited and gave you plenty of opportunities to confess."

       

As soon as we made it through the front door, Trowa began peeling off my coat and gloves.  I knew I had to hurry to our room before he got too amorous.  We'd been terribly spoiled by the small number of people staying over break.  I darted toward the stairs and ran up, but he caught me at the landing.  His freezing lips were on my neck, and I had to bite my lips to keep my whimpers from becoming an outright 'yip'.

       

"Quatre?"  Dorothy rounded the corner in the hall.  She stopped in her tracks when she saw us.  "Oh!"

       

Trowa, thankfully, recovered quickly.  "There, Quat," he said, bringing his hand up to my neck.  "Your tag's not sticking out anymore."

       

"Hey, Dorothy!"  I gave her a quick hug, anxious to get away from Trowa as quickly as possible. 

        

Her gaze shifted to Trowa, then back to me.  With one eyebrow arched, she asked, "And how was your break?"

End of Part One.

To be continued in New Experiences, Part Two: Winter Quarter