Author: CleverYoungThief
Rating: R, leaning to NC-17
Warnings: Humor/Smut, Language, a teeny bit of Quatre and Duo bashing (from Wufei). Yaoi, shounen ai, Wufei torture.
Pairing: 3x4
Archive: Gundam Wing Addiction
Disclaimer: Contrary to popular belief, I don't own any of the characters herein. Most political situations, people, and events in these stories are fictional, and don't belong to me, and are taken without permission because I'm too damned lazy to make up my own. The characters and events and stuff in here that ARE mine ARE mine, so don't take them, and if you do, I'll hunt you down and kill you with a spork.
Notes: At least I didn't make Wufei sing "I Feel Like A Woman". By the way, there should be a 1x2 sequel to this fic coming out soon called "Dragon Under The Bed", so look out for it on the MLs and GWAddiction if you're interested.
Dragon in the Closet
// What an injustice. //
Wufei ducked his head into the hangar maintenance closet, fumbling around. "Some damned onna probably put it in here... or Quatre. He's the closest thing to an onna we have," Wufei mumbled irritably to himself.
Still no mobile suit armor treatment. But would his dearest, precious Natacku go without? Of course not.
Wufei was starting to quickly gain a hatred for dark, closed spaces. He moved further into the closet, shoving through the shelves, looking for the bottle, letting loose a steady stream of Chinese curses, then the little Japanese he had picked up from Heero. Finally, he was down to American cussing, and he still hadn't found the gundanium polish he was looking for.
"Goddammit fuck shit sonuvabitch!" Suddenly, the supply closet door closed behind him, shutting with a final, ominous click.
"Oh no. Please by all things sacred NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Wufei tried backing out of the closet, reaching for the knob. It wouldn't turn. "NO! NO! NOOO! INJUSTICE!"
// Injustice. //
He slumped against the wall, hugging his knees, resisting the insane urge to burst into tears.
// Locked in a closet on Peace Million. Of all the humiliating things... and I never even found the gundanium polish for Natacku. //
Well, at least he had one thing going for him. He wasn't locked in Duo's closet.
~*~
Bad thing for Wufei that the mobile suit hangar was deserted. Good thing for Quatre and Trowa.
// Hope no one walks in, // Quatre thought as he ran his small, pale hands down Trowa's broad chest. Trowa smiled a little, and Quatre felt the taller boy's strong, confident hands slide across his back through his tech suit. He had started toward the hangar with all intentions of working on Sandrock. And then he had met Trowa halfway. Suddenly, all thoughts of mobile suit maintenance flew from his head.
Without breaking their gentle kiss, he heard Trowa's blue jean jacket hit the floor.
To Trowa, Quatre always tasted of sweet tea and hot sun, the thing that Trowa loved most about the golden-haired boy. He always seemed as if he absorbed sunlight, becoming fluid heat. It was like touching metal that had been lying in the sun all day.
Trowa pulled back. "You must be addicted to tea, Quatre."
"Mmm hmm," Quatre replied absently, pulling up Trowa's shirt over his head, mussing his bangs.
He gently bit Trowa's shoulder, then licked it. "And you've been drinking cola with Heero again. Just a bunch of caffeine addicts, the lot of us." He giggled helplessly, unable to help himself. The shaggy-banged quiet pilot just had that effect on him.
"Aren't you worried about someone coming in here, little one?" Trowa said, tugging upward on the shirt Quatre was wearing beneath his tech suit.
"Not particularly."
Trowa laughed, then growled in a feral manner at the buttons on Quatre's shirt, having to stop and unbutton them. "You and your goddamned shirts, Quatre..." He laughed again.
With crinkled cat-green eyes twinkling as the unworried sound bubbled out of him, Trowa was drop-dead gorgeous when he laughed. At least Trowa (and half the GW fangirl population) thought so.
// Most definitely, // Quatre thought as Trowa bent his head to kiss Quatre's slender chest.
Almost standing on tiptoe, Quatre dipped his tongue in the hollow of Trowa's shoulder, then moving it to Trowa's throat. Trowa's tickled laughter turned to soft moans as Quatre nipped a trail down his tanned chest. The Heavyarms pilot gasped as Quatre bit one of his nipples, then blew on it. The Arabian pilot looked up at him with a mischievous glint sparkling in his blue-green eyes. Making his way back up, Quatre's mouth met the taller pilot's again, and he pulled the zipper on Trowa's jeans down.
"Mmmmmm."
~*~
// What in the hell...? //
Wufei had made it up in his mind to break down the door when he heard Quatre giggling, and Trowa's soft replies. He almost started to yell for one of the idiots to let him out, but then he thought about having to confess that he had accidentally locked himself in the closet.
No. That wouldn't do. He would simply wait until they left and then break out.
Huh? There was some whispering, and then a rustling noise. It was quiet out there. Too quiet. What was going on?
{ You must be addicted to tea, Quatre. }
{ And you've been drinking cola with Heero again. A bunch of caffeine addicts, the lot of us. }
More giggling. Wufei did not like where this was going. As effeminate as the little airheaded blonde pilot was, Wufei still couldn't see him sitting around in a mobile suit hangar discussing beverages.
So, what were they doing? Did Wufei really want to know? Of course not. Did he have a choice? Not really. Wufei closed his eyes, feeling a nosebleed coming on. He squeezed his nostrils shut with one hand, wishing he had just called for help when he had the chance.
A zipper hissed outside of the closet.
// Nataku, give me strength... // He hyperventilated, trying to pass out. He had before considered falling unconscious under any circumstances but sleep a sign of weakness, but he was throwing that little theory out the window, because now was definitely a good time to pass out.
Wufei flinched at the sound of laughter. Coming from Trowa. Seeing as Wufei had been utterly convinced the tall boy was a mute until proven otherwise by Duo, the laughter sounded particularly dangerous.
Wufei's eyes felt like they were going to fall out of their sockets as he heard the growing silence between Trowa's laughter. Silence was not a good thing. Silence was bad, because that meant--
Trowa gasped, groaning, and Wufei felt the blood gush from his nose. He grabbed a cleaning rag from the shelf, holding it there. Could he pass out voluntarily? No. Did he want to know what Quatre was doing that could make Trowa gasp like that? Absolutely not. Did he have a choice in the matter, locked in a closet while looking for a Gundam's equivalent of car wax? Nope.
// Dammit. //
Unfortunately, one cannot plug one's ears and hold one's bleeding nose at the same time.
~*~
Quatre loved the taller boy's lean, lanky, feline frame, loved to run his hands along the taut muscles and wire-like sinew beneath Trowa's shirt.
Just loved him. His looks, and everything that went with them.
"I'll teach you to tease me, Quatre," Trowa growled, lowering Quatre to the floor. Quatre growled back, rocking his hips up to meet Trowa's above him, sounding more like a playful kitten than the forbidding tigerish growl that Trowa voiced. As soon as Quatre's pants were off, Trowa gently lifted the blonde Arabian's legs over his shoulders. With a deft, well-practiced lunge, he was rocking in Quatre's slick warmth. He went slowly at first, to let Quatre get used to him, and then sped up.
Quatre lifted his hips, meeting Trowa's thrusts feverishly, but Trowa grinned roguishly, forcing the smaller boy to slow down. He held Quatre's hip with one hand, forcing him still.
"Trowa... love you..." Quatre finally got out, panting as Trowa reached between them and grabbed him, stroking him in time with his own thrusts. "Trowa... I... feels like... I..." Quatre threw back his head, golden blonde bangs flying back from his face. "Feels like what, little one?" Trowa whispered, his arm like a steel band around the smaller boy.
"More... left..." Quatre's legs tightened around his hips. "... more..."
Trowa moved his hips a little faster, gently tilting Quatre's hips a little to the right, gaging the smaller boy's reaction. Quatre's gasps got louder, more frantic. "What were you saying, Quatre?"
"More... please..." Quatre groaned.
"More what?"
"Fuck me!" Quatre bucked upward beneath him, sending them both over the edge.
~*~
{ I'll teach you not to tease me, Quatre. }
Some poor tech was going to come by in a few hours looking for something, and find a dead Chinese boy lying in a puddle of his own blood. Curled up in a maintenance closet.
Wufei was barely hanging on to consciousness, although only gods above and below knew why he was still awake to hear this. He did not need to know.
Wufei Chang was going to die. He had no doubt of it. He chanted silently in his head, trying to block it out as he held the rag up to his nose.
// Sun is warm, grass is green. Sun is warm, grass is green--//
{ Quatre... nnn... so good... }
{ Allah yes! Harder. Harder! }
// I'm going to die. //
Wufei Chang, the great solitary dragon, the last of the Dragon Clan, was going to die of utter embarrassment. And if he didn't die from that, he most certainly would die from blood loss.
Oh gods...
The sound of bodies meeting in violent contact in a quickening beat, the hushed, loving words whispered in the fervor of it all, or--worst of all--the grunts, groans, moans, murmurs, cries and/or various erotic obscenities uttered just beyond the closet in which he was trapped. He would have been able to block all this out, if not for the fact that he couldn't cover his ears.
// Who would have thought Quatre even knew such words?!?! //
Quatre and Duo, he could understand. Quatre had to be one of the most sissified soldiers Wufei had ever seen, and Duo... well, any boy that wore his hair like an onna's was a case in point. But Trowa?! Big, strong, silent Trowa Barton? That just did not tally up.
// They sure have stamina... //
Wufei slapped himself, eyes wide, certain that the other two pilots wouldn't be able to hear the sound of it over themselves.
// Gods above and below, are you listening to yourself? Get it together! You sound like Maxwell! //
Even if he survived this little tryst, Wufei was absolutely sure that he wouldn't be able to look either of them in the face again.
// Ah, fuck it, // Wufei thought wearily, taking the rag from his nose. The bleeding seemed to have slowed down quite a bit.
// So what? They are gay. I am not. So what? They watch a different type of porno. They don't shower separately. I will be able to look both of them in the face when this is over. I will still admire them for their individual combat abilities. I am an open-minded person-- //
{ Uh... nnn... Trowa! }
{ God! Quatre! }
Wufei's nose began to bleed again. He put the rag back to it, sighing deeply.
// I will simply break the door down, sneak out when they are gone, and never think of this again. Ever. //
OWARI
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