May 9, 2001
Revised: August 9, 2001
Sweet All Over
Part 6 (or close to it)
Pairings: 6x2 (lime/lemon in this part), 13x1, 4x3, 5xM, D+R
"Can't believe they made me close," grumbled Quatre as he swiped at the counters with a cloth already made sticky by discovering the head of a lolly (presumably Duo's). "Assholes. Just because -they- have stupid boyfriends doesn't mean that I don't." He paused to consider. After a long moment, he began scrubbing again. "Well, maybe I don't." He tossed the rag into the sink distastefully, and popped open the register to begin sorting and counting money.
"Fool," he said as he saw a five hundred check in Treize Khushrenada's name. He didn't really mind him, though; if Duo cut off his braid and thought a bit before he spoke, he would be a younger version of him. Their dry wit was never more evident than when they were needling Heero. It was good for him.
"Besides," said Quatre, "he needs to lighten up. Loosen up. Live a little." He carefully folded the ones into an envelope, and marked it $74 with a magic marker that reminded him of Trowa, and the time in fourth grade when they had started sniffing drawing supplies and the taller boy had passed out--
"Don't think about that!" he told himself, slamming the register shut. He sat there, his fists clenched, breathing heavily. "Don't -even- think about him, you asshole."
He was about to open the register again to start on the fives when he heard the door in the kitchen slam. Jumping to his feet, the blonde looked around for a weapon and sighed as he selected a spatula. He peered through the circular window and blinked.
Dorothy, her back to Quatre, was handing a blue pouch to an unidentifiable person. They spoke for a moment, and then Dorothy started towards the door. Gulping, he slid back to the counter, eyes wide.
"Quatre?" Dorothy put her hands on her hips, lips pursed disapprovingly.
"Yes?" he squeaked.
"You didn't write down your hours for today. Be sure to do that before you go, or else you won't get paid for this week." Quatre nodded benignly. He breathed a sigh of relief as she snatched her windbreaker from the rack and left.
He went back to counting money, and didn't give Dorothy's strange encounter a second thought.
Dinner finished, the two warriors glared at each other over the table.
"It's your turn," said Meiran, scowling fiercely.
"No," said Wufei, grabbing his knife as if to stab his wife with it. "I made dinner. It's your damn turn to do the dishes." Meanwhile, the meatloaf that Wufei had made, neither daring to touch it, sat on a warmer and appeared to burp.
"I did the dishes last night *and* made supper," said Meiran. "Good God, you men think that it's easy being a woman and having to deal with all the socioeconomic pressures--"
"Of doing your hair?" said Wufei.
Meiran screamed in frustration, jerking sharply on the tablecloth. "I'm not doing the dishes."
"Well, I'm not doing them!" said Wufei with the air of one who has risen above the rabble. "Let them sit there for all I care." With that, he stalked off to their Zen garden to see what changes the onna had made, and if it was possible to reverse them without her knowing.
Meiran bit her lip. The meatloaf burped, the sound filling the silence in a grotesquely picturesque manner.
"Men," she said, beginning to clear the table.
Duo frowned as Solo suddenly jumped up from behind the couch, shouting, "Boo!" with all the exuberance of a nine-year old.
"Solo!" He swatted at his younger brother, groaning as Zechs found a sensitive spot in his ear, nibbling absently. "Go back to your room, or when Mom comes home, I'll tell her that you were bothering me and Zechs..." He hoped that Solo would fall for it; his mother would probably have a heart attack if he knew what he was doing on the den room cough. The blonde's hand slid between his thighs, cupping his growing erection. "Now," he panted.
"You never let me have any fun," said the younger boy, pouting. When that didn't work, he stamped his foot and scuttled up the stairs.
"Your brother is very persistent," said Zechs, pressing Duo into the sofa.
"That he is," said Duo, moaning as the blonde brought their hips together, grinding hard as if they could merge into one being by rubbing together. "My parents'll be home in ten minutes," he gasped, trying to push Zechs away. "We can't--"
"My car?" mumbled Zechs as he pushed Duo's shirt up, running his tongue over his flat stomach.
"No," said Duo, rubbing his neck brace. "Quickie?" Zechs said nothing, but unzipped his black jeans, shoving them down around his knees. Duo's board shorts quickly followed, and then he rested his calves on the blonde's shoulders, urging him to hurry.
"Now?" said Zechs, kissing him furiously, swallowing Duo's eager noises. He moved to bury his face in Duo's neck, and froze as his face met Styrofoam. "Damn this thing," he growled, jerky fingers undoing the buckle. He tossed it next to Duo's shorts, and tried again, pressing his cheek into his neck. He moved inside Duo, lost in the tightness of his body, his hard thighs clinging to him, the muscles under the skin tensing; all intoxicating, dragging him below the reaches of sanity.
"Shit," hissed Duo, resting his head against one of the decorative pillows to support his neck. "Zechs!" He wasn't thick so much as long, every minute shift of his lover's body sending him spiraling straight down into liquid darkness, his eyes squeezing shut for the descent.
After a while, he no longer cared what strange faces he might have been making, the grunts and moans that escaped his throat. He just needed more of whatever he was doing, more of Zechs thrusting against the spot that made him buck frantically, every tendon and muscle in his body stringing taut.
"Duo," said Zechs, his movements shortening to hard, choppy endeavors, "oh God..."
Duo bit his lip, wrapping his arms around the blonde's torso to steady him, God, it was so good, he was going to come screaming if he didn't do something and then Solo would hear. But then suddenly he couldn't remember exactly why he cared if his little brother heard him, he couldn't care about anything at all--
"Zechs," he breathed, shivering as they both started to come down. A warm tingling sensation of blood flowing back to the rest of his body started in his groin, moving to his legs and arms. "Oh..." A tongue began to lick his softening cock, cleaning around it, then darting inside him quickly. Above the water's surface of his haze, he felt hands tugging his shorts back onto his naked body and a blanket around his shoulders, and a kiss being pressed to his forehead. "Where you going?" he asked, almost incoherently.
"Home," said Zechs. "Sleep well, Duo." He turned the television on, making sure to keep the volume low, and left.
Duo smiled, or, at least, he thought he smiled. He couldn't be too sure as he drifted off to sleep.
His parents found him napping on the couch in a sitting position.
"How cute!" said his mother. "He fell asleep watching CNN. What a good boy we've raised!"
His father said nothing, but silently wondered who'd spilled Elmer's Glue on the couch cushion.
Treize sighed to himself. When he'd suggested they go out for a late dinner after work, he'd been hoping for a quiet, candle- lit evening, capped off by a kiss (Hopefully. And Treize was always hopeful.). Almost as if Heero had sensed his intentions the moment he saw the older boy at the window, he'd been contrary to his plans the entire night, and had started by choosing the most unromantic place to eat dinner in town.
"Are you sure you don't want to go somewhere else, Heero?" he asked, frowning as a screaming girl ran by his leg, clutching a teddy bear and calling for her mommy. "I mean...I can barely hear myself think, let alone carry on a conversation."
From inside the McDonald's ball pit, Heero shrugged. "Nice try," he said. "I'm not coming out of here."
Then, Heero had been giving off 'kiss me' signs the entire time, sitting next to him in the booth instead of across from him, letting their hands touch when they reached for the salt. "Well," said Treize, "I'll just have to come in after you." But when Treize made his move, the Japanese boy ran and hid in the playground.
With that, he kicked off his Reef sandals and climbed into the ball pit, making a wild grab for Heero, who had taken off into the net playground, laughing as the older boy fell flat on a sea of plastic balls.
"Can't keep up, old man?" he taunted, and laughed again as Treize was forced to hunch down in order to fit through the rope tunnels. The gap between them grew considerably shorter, and he was just about to grab on to a temptingly bare ankle when Heero disappeared down the red slide with a shout.
Hoping that no one was watching him, he slid slowly, his bare skin rubbing painfully against the plastic. He stood up, looking around the playground and ignoring the dirty looks of parents, only to see someone disappearing down a different slide.
"Aha!" he said, and took after them. Leaving no time for Heero to escape, he flung himself on the boy at the bottom of the slide...
...only to discover that it was an eleven-year old boy he had glomped, rather than his date. "Sorry," he said, ruffling his hair apologetically. Where was Heero? His bright blue eyes darted around suspiciously, his brow becoming heavy.
The ball pit was empty.
Or so it seem, until he saw the tip of a toe sticking out next to a red ball. Creeping over slowly, he took a deep breath and pounced, groaning as he hit something solid and bounced. Then Treize was tossed aside, and a body brushed against his momentarily before taking off into a different rope tunnel. Acting fast, he threw himself onto the leg that was still hovering over the ball pit and dragged Heero back in, kicking and screaming.
"Let go!" he said. His arms and legs flailed, catching him in the elbow.
"Hold still," said Treize, and surprisingly, he did. Breathing hard, he panted, "There. Was that so hard?" Pinned beneath him, Heero had no choice but to shake his head 'no'. "Don't move." He lowered his face to Heero's, and watched his eyelids shutter open, then lower, feigning nonchalance. Their lips met and Treize felt a smile tug at his mouth as Heero gasped.
His lips were soft, parting at the insistence of his tongue, and then welcoming him. He touched the tip of Heero's tongue, blinking at the sweetness of it, even after six chicken nuggets and a large fry. As he rested more of his weight atop him, daring to push their hips together and cupping his face, he wondered if he tasted that sweet all over--
"OOF!" The balls beneath Heero suddenly gave out, and the two went tumbling to the bottom of the pit. "Are you okay?" asked Treize, taking the opportunity to put his hands all over Heero. "Anything broken? No punctured liver, no burst appendix?"
"No," said Heero, brushing him off. "I'm fine."
Treize blinked. "What, no witty rejoinder?"
Heero frowned at him. After a long moment, he spoke, coughed, and started again. "I'm supposed to be home now," he said, rising unsteadily to his feet. He stopped as he realized the older boy wasn't following him. "Treize?" The blue-eyed man sat in the ball pit with the strangest mien.
Slowly, understanding dawned on his face and he turned to face Heero. "Is that what you say to all of them?" he asked, almost swimming through the ball pit to stand before Heero. "Is that what you say to push people away?"
"Stop it," said Heero, his voice dangerous.
"Don't you want--"
"I mean it, Treize."
"--someone to fall in love with you? Buy you chocolates for no reason? Give you back rubs when you're tired?" He watched fear flicker in those blue depths, before ice resurfaced where Treize thought he had melted it forever.
"No."
"Fine."
Treize drove him home in perfect silence. At first, Heero was glad for it, since it meant that he didn't have to listen to any more of Treize's ranting and raving. After ten minutes of it, the awkwardness between them was almost too much to bear. When his driveway appeared, Heero nearly cheered, and was very tempted to, considering the way Treize had been acting.
As he was about to open the door, he felt a hand on his arm, and stopped. He looked at Treize with questions in his eyes, but the older boy continued to stare at him. "What?"
He opened his mouth, then shook his head. "Nothing," he said, and leaned back into his own seat.
Heero felt as if someone should say something, so he did, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "That was my first kiss," he said, then wondered why he'd said it. The tightness around Treize's eyes relaxed, and for a moment, Heero thought that he was going to smile. Some part of him welcomed it, wanted to see Treize smile because of him.
Then, Treize said, "I'm not surprised."
*That* hurt. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, it hurt like a sucker punch or a tack in his foot that he hadn't seen embedded in the carpeting. Biting his lip, he started to leave again. Treize grabbed his face, turning him so swiftly Heero thought his neck was going to break, and kissed him thoroughly, dipping his tongue into Heero's mouth like a pen testing an inkwell.
"Figure out what you want," he said, and then he wouldn't have had enough time in the world to stop Heero from leaving. He ran inside his house, the door slamming with a brutal thunderclap.
End Part Six
Bianca
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