November 15, 2000
Rating: X--for lots of kisses and sex
Category: PWP
Pairings: 3x4x9
Warnings: LEMON!!!
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and are only being used for non-profit entertainment purposes.
Notes: This was a "Line Challenge" which I should have probably left alone... ::sighs:: oh well, too late now! This has NO relevance to "Have You Ever...".
Noin approached the fancy estate with mixed feelings. On one hand, she really wanted to see her good friend, Quatre Raberba Winner. On the other, she dreaded the questions that she knew were coming.
"Noin, it's so wonderful to get the chance to see you again."
"Noin, you're looking so wonderful, all considering."
"Noin, how are you holding up?"
"Noin, how are you feeling? Is everything all right?"
"Noin, you know if there's anything I can do for you, anything at all, you can ask me, right?"
Noin. Noin. Noin. Noin. Noin!
Sometimes she got so damned annoyed with them that she thought she would shoot the next person her asked her...
They meant well, she knew. They really cared about her, and she was grateful. It helped, knowing that there were people out there who cared. Who really cared about her. She just wished they wouldn't continue to look at her with pity because of her beliefs. Her belief. Her belief that Zechs wasn't dead like everyone else thought he was. Her belief that he was still alive, somewhere out there... Alive. Zechs was alive and she refused to believe differently.
"Noin! How wonderful to see you again!" Quatre cooed as she was shown into the drawing room. "You look great." He took both her hands into his, squeezing them gently as he leaned up and kissed first one cheek and then the other.
She laughed, pulling back. "While in France do what the French do?" she teased. "You've been going to too many socials."
Quatre laughed, withdrawing as well. "Guilty as charged," the blond young man replied, taking up the glass Trowa handed him. "Thank you," he murmured, smiling towards the young man.
"Thank you," Noin chorused, as the uni-banged young man handed her a glass as well. He just nodded to both, taking up position at Quatre's side. She became uncomfortably aware of them facing her, almost as in opposition. 'Cut it out,' she chided herself. 'You're not at war anymore. And they certainly aren't your enemies!'
Quatre laughed suddenly, breaking the tension. "I'm being a poor host! Come, let's sit and talk for a while. Tell me how you've been and what you've been up to since January."
They had settled onto the matching settee when the door was opened. "Monsieur Barton," the young maid said politely. "Voici la telephone [call] pour toi."
"Merci, Jeanne," the uni-banged young man replied, standing. "Please excuse me," he said to Noin.
She nodded, murmuring 'not at all', and then he was gone. She looked to Quatre. Quatre looked to her. He smiled. She smiled.
"So tell me," he began as she said, "I understand--"
They both stopped and laughed. "You go first," she said.
"No, please, you go, Miss Noin," Quatre replied, smiling friendly.
"Well, if you insist," she began, smiling back at him friendly.
Trowa returned twenty-five minutes later (after *finally* getting Catherine off the phone) to a somewhat startling sight.
Sometime during his absence, his little blonde lover had transferred to the other sofa and was holding an apparently crying older woman. As Trowa watched, Quatre rained tiny soothing kisses over the dark woman's face. Trowa entered the room, flicking the lock on the door before closing it quietly behind him.
Obviously not quiet enough for the ex-Gundam pilot. Marine eyes flew to Trowa's face, capturing and holding the young man's gaze. There was a gleam in those sea-storm eyes that the uni-banged young man was more than well acquainted with. Trowa felt his breath catch and he forced himself to swallow.
Still holding the other man's gaze, Quatre brushed his lips over the woman's in his arms. A tiny moan thrummed through her body as he repeated the gesture. He slipped one hand free from its hold against her back and slid it down the length of her side, his palm brushing along the side her breast on its descent. The tiny caress caused her to gasp, and Quatre quickly took advantage of the moment.
His eyes never leaving Trowa's, Quatre's mouth moved over Noin's, his tongue darting out to taste her lips before delving into the warm recesses of her mouth. Noin shifted in his arms, shifting closer to him. His tongue met with hers, and the two parried, advanced, warred, surrendered.
She tore her mouth away from his with a cry. "Please," she breathed, her hands kneading his shoulders.
"Please what?" he questioned, his lips brushing past her cheek, over one earlobe before plunging down to her throat. She cried out, her head falling back to give the burning lips more access.
"Please..." she repeated, one hand slipping to Quatre's neck to hold the lips to her throat.
"Please what?" he repeated, his tongue darting out to lave the sweet flesh of her throat. "Please stop?" The pressure on his neck increased and he smiled into her shoulder. "Please what, Noin? Tell me what you want..."
She whimpered, cried in frustration. When Quatre pressed, she relented and fell back onto the cushions, Quatre hovering over her, his young male body pressing into hers. She shifted, taking his weight there. He seemed to know what her body wanted before even she did and he pressed himself against her, focusing the most delicious torment between her legs. She writhed beneath him.
Yes... this is what she wanted... this was what she needed... a male body... pressed to hers... moving against her... moving inside her... hard... a hard male body...
Her hands slid from his neck and shoulders, pressing urgently against him, trying to increase that delicious pressure there...
But he resisted her and she thought she would scream with frustration. "Please..." she breathed again, hoping he would--
"Please what?" he returned. "Tell me, Noin. Tell me what you want from me..."
She forced her eyes to open, forced herself to look at him for the first time since she'd began to cry in his arms minutes--no, lifetimes ago. She forced herself to look into those blazing blue eyes. The woman in her recognized the desire swimming in those blue orbs, and begged to answer it with her own. The soldier in her refused to allow her to speak the words he seemed determined to hear.
She stared up at him, her eyes searching his young face--so young and yet so old--begging him to understand... She swallowed, her indigo eyes searching... begging... widening in shock.
Trowa loomed behind Quatre, his green eyes searching her face. A part of her recoiled in horror. What was she *thinking*? She was a grown woman and here she was practically *begging* a teenager to have sex with her?!?!? And worse--a boy she knew, absolutely *knew* was gay, because his lover happened to be standing right *there*.
But Trowa's expression was--well, there wasn't any expression. He just stood there, watching her...
And then he crouched down level to her face, leaning close so his warm breath slid over her cheek and ear. She shivered, her eyes sliding shut once again.
"Do you want Quatre to fuck you?" Trowa asked softly in her ear.
She gasped, indigo eyes blinking open with shock. Her body arched into Quatre's of its own accord. Quatre had resumed his assault on her tender throat and she whimpered.
"He's a wonderful lover," Trowa continued, just as soft as before.
Noin cried out with frustration, her eyes squeezing shut as her body moved against Quatre's, wantonly trying to pleasure itself.
"All you have to do is tell him," Trowa whispered, so close his cheek almost brushed across hers. "He won't unless you give him permission."
She wanted to scream at him. At both of them. As if lying like a fucking wanton across someone's couch, moaning and groaning as you grinded your body against theirs wasn't permission enough!
"Please..." she whimpered... please let it be enough... please just take me already... please just make me forget my loneliness for a little while... please just make this pain go away... please just "fuck me..."
Her lips might have tripped a bit over the unfamiliar word to her vocabulary, but that didn't seem to affect the effect it had on the blond man moving above her. He tore his lips free from the bruise on her neck to seduce her lips. One hand slid down her body, seizing one leg and pulling it up, giving his body more room between her spreading thighs. He pressed closer, harder.
She cried out, tearing her lips away from his as her body arched into his, pressing, delicious, burning pressure. But it wasn't enough. Not by a long shot.
She felt the hands at her waist and it took her a moment before she realized they were unfastening her blouse. In her passion-induced haze, she helped as much as she could, squirming against Quatre's young body at every chance. Blouse removed, her bare torso became overly-sensitized to Quatre's dress shirt. She began to tug at the offending material before she lost her train of thought thanks to Quatre's delightful oral talents.
Not waiting for the flimsy satin contraption to be removed, Quatre's mouth moved over her bra-encased breasts, sucking on the hard little nipples through the material. Noin cried out beneath him, arching against him, her firm, young breasts swelling before him. Greedily, he took what was offered, licking, sucking, nipping.
Trowa was busy, too, he knew. He felt Noin shift again, and pulled back as his lover pulled the satin-contraption away from her body, bearing her breasts to him completely. Quatre repeated his breast-worship with renewed vigor as warm, callused hands moved at his waist. In little time, Trowa had succeeded in removing Quatre's shirt as well.
Two pairs of hands moved over him--Noin's desperate, seeking; Trowa's familiar, encouraging. He felt Trowa move behind him and growled appreciatively, pushing back against his lover. The other young man answered in kind, rocking his hips and quite noticeable arousal against Quatre's ass. Two strong hands held his waist still, prolonging the torture, before slipping forward. They pressed and caressed Quatre's own arousal as they worked the fastenings on Noin's pants free.
Noin could feel the second pair of hands on her body and a part of her mind that was still functioning told her that was wrong. There should only be two hands, not four. But that part of her mind was quickly locked away by the rest of her body when Quatre's wonderfully talented mouth seized hold of a bared breast. And then she just decided not to think again for a very long time. Consequences be damned. Tonight she was going to get some.
It wasn't long before that second pair of hands was back, this time tantalizingly close to *there*... her hips rocked, capturing those hands against herself and Quatre. Quatre's hips answered back. A growl fluttered down to her ears from somewhere behind Quatre, but she didn't care. She didn't want to care. She just wanted to feel. To feel and feel and feel and not care about anything.
She heard--or rather felt the hiss of her zipper and the tug on her pants as they were pulled from her hot skin. It took a bit of displaced weight and maneuvering, but soon she was freed from the constricting pants--and whoever had been kind enough to do that favor had been insightful enough to remove her panties as well, leaving her deliciously naked on the couch and completely free to feel Quatre's body moving over hers.
Trowa carefully laid Noin's removed clothing over an armchair before tackling Quatre's state of dress. The blond's shoes were already off, which left one less thing for him to remove, but the damn belt his love insisted on wearing was comparable to five pairs of shoes as far as he was concerned. He wormed his hands between the two sweaty bodies again, this time with the removal of Quatre's pants in mind.
It might have taken him five minutes before he succeeded, but the two hot and heady, mindless, sex-driven bodies didn't seem to mind. He sat back, taking a moment for himself to watch them.
The pale, dark haired woman with her head thrown back as her body writhed, caught between the sofa and his Quatre. The blond man moving over her, his face buried in her kiss-swollen breasts as his hands coaxed more fires, running up and down her body, touching whatever they could.
Definitely a note-worthy site, he thought to himself as he saw Quatre begin to shift away from those blushed breasts that had held his attention for the past ten minutes. Trowa smiled to himself, knowing what was coming next. Quatre was a sensual being, he had learned. He aroused and became aroused by use of all senses--sight, sound, taste, touch, smell, and, he even used his natural empathy from time to time.
There was very little a lover of Quatre's could do but submit to the blond's wishes and desires--and, usually, the submission was very beneficial.
Noin's hands buried into blond waves as Quatre's lips and tongue assaulted the small indenture of her belly button. She whimpered, her cooling breasts chilled from the lack of attention. But as quickly as the thought came, it was chased away by a callused hand and a warm mouth. Again her mind tried to balk--counting too many hands, too many mouths; again her body over-ruled her mind and shifted when encouraged to, her legs falling over Quatre's shoulder's willingly as his lips brushed kisses over each thigh...
Quatre sat up some, pulling Noin's legs up with him, cautiously hooking each lithe limb over a shoulder. Her looked down her smooth body to catch Trowa's blazing gaze as the other man suckled a breast. He smiled and then leaned forward, breathing in the musky scent of Lucrezia Noin. His tongue darted out and swiped along the slick, pink flesh.
Noin cried out, startled. Her legs tightened over his shoulders, pulling him closer to her most private core. He accepted the invitation, taking what she so freely offered. He licked and laved, freely, until his tongue found the small nubile of flesh that caused the woman to tremble. Smiling, he attacked with repeated strokes until the woman was crying out uncontrollably, thrashing against his waiting mouth, until quieting down into tiny quivers.
He pulled back, releasing her legs from his shoulders, licking his lips. He laid himself out, over her, allowing her the chance to recover while reminding her that he hadn't... "Noin," he murmured against her cheek. His hands traveled her body, slowly coaxing it to renewed arousal. One hand slipped between her two folds, stroking her in a similar fashion to his tongue moments before.
She moaned and shifted beneath him; her legs falling apart for him. He looked over to Trowa, who had moved away to devise himself of clothing. He caught the other man's eyes. A look passed between them. Trowa walked away, only to return a moment later with a foiled packet.
"Thank you," Quatre murmured against his lover's lips, reaching for the packet. But Trowa held it out of reach, kissing the blond man back as his fingers deftly opened the foil and removed the latex sheath within. With one hand he fondled his lover, teasing the engorged flesh shamelessly until Quatre growled. And then he slipped the protective covering over Quatre's erection.
Quatre looked down to notice Noin watching them. He smiled at her, leaning over to kiss her lips... her cheek... her lips... her throat... until she was purring and writhing beneath him once more. Behind him he could feel Trowa climbing onto the sofa with them and those loving callused hands smoothing down over his spine before teasing his opening. Quatre shifted his hips up, giving his lover more room to prepare him. It wasn't too often that Trowa got to be 'on top' as it were... but when he did...
Quatre shivered, two coated fingers sliding into his tight passage, coaxing. His own hand mimicked the movements on the woman beneath him. It was another excruciating minute before a third finger was slid inside his opening. Eagerly, he slipped a third finger inside Noin, his fingers now more coated with her juices than Trowa's. The thought that this whole shin-ding was going to be less painful for her then it would be for him passed through his mind before Trowa's fingers brushed against his prostate gland. And then he reminded himself that a little pain was *nothing* compare to that...
He moaned against Noin's lips.
"Noin," he whispered against those lips. "Look at me, Noin."
It took her a moment, but finally she forced her eyes open, almost shutting them again against the flood of light. Instead, they remained hooded, but focused on his face. His fingers continued to stroke her, continued to feed the fire that was quickly devouring her. As she watched, he moaned, his own eyes fluttering shut, his hips rocking against hers. A tiny cry caught in her own throat; those magically fingers slipped so easily away from her; but they were so quickly replaced with a more delicious pressure.
"Yesss..." she hissed against his lips, reaching her arms up to hold his body to hers as he filled her... but encountering more flesh then she expected... Which is when she looked up, past Quatre, and noticed Trowa once again. This time very much as naked as herself and Quatre, and looking as hot and bothered as them, too.
Green eyes caught her gaze and he smiled, shifting. Suddenly Quatre's hips surged forward under Trowa's coaxing, sliding easily into Noin's moist, fiery, heat. She moaned, her head lolling back as her hips angled up to take more; but her eyes remained focused on the face above. Her legs lifted up, trying to wrap around Quatre's waist, to hold him closer to her need.
But Trowa was in control of this encounter, she realized when his callused hands slid over her calves, lifting them higher, locking them over Quatre's shoulders. Noin cried out as she was literally folded in half and then cried out for an entirely different reason as Trowa thrust forward, filling Quatre, filling her.
Trowa kept his own rhythm, thrusting in, pulling away, first slow, then faster, driving both bodies beneath him into a frenzy until both Noin and Quatre were crying out to him, begging him for release. He held out a moment longer before giving in. The sofa shifted beneath them, scratching across the floor with the force of their mating.
Quatre came first, his startled cry caught by Noin's lips and mouth. From behind, Trowa continued to pound into the little blond, thrusting him into Noin. A strangled growl wrangled free from him and with one final thrust, he came. Tender hands smoothed over her calves, spreading her legs, freeing them from their prison over Quatre's shoulders... And then Trowa's delicious weight was added to Quatre's as he slumped down over her.
The three people lay like that for several minutes.
And then Noin shifted beneath them--a catalyst.
"I should leave," she said, not looking at either one of them, but at her pile of clothes Trowa had thoughtfully folded over one armchair.
"You could stay," Quatre offered, equally as soft.
"No, I should go," she returned, shifting again beneath them.
"You must do what you feel is right," Trowa answered, shifting up, releasing her from his body weight.
A part of her cried out at that lost. She forced herself to meet Trowa's gaze--and nearly cried. 'Beautiful' he mouthed to her before leaving the couch. She watched him as he pulled his slacks and sweater back on. And then he returned to them, crouching down beside them.
"Quatre," he said softly, a hand soothing down the blond man's back as Quatre continued to hide against Noin. "Miss Noin would like to leave."
"I know," the blond sighed before finally pulling away from her. Noin felt suddenly very cold. He smiled down at her. "I'll go call your car up," he told her, climbing off the couch and reaching for his own pile of clothing Trowa had devised him from.
Noin remained on the sofa, shivering as she watched the blond dress and then leave the room.
"Would you like me to leave while you get dressed?" Trowa asked softly, pulling her attention to him.
She blushed straight to her roots. "I don't see as how it'll matter. You've seen all there is to see," she said, sitting up.
Trowa was at her side before she could get up, however. One hand cupped her cheek as he forced her to look at him. "We won't tell anyone, and we don't expect this to repeat itself," he told her gently.
"Well that's nice," she grumbled, anger at herself for being so weak beginning to boil.
He turned her face back towards him. "Noin..." he whispered before brushing his lips over hers. "Here, I'll help you get dressed," he told her, pulling her up. They were quiet as she dressed, each stewing in his or her own thoughts.
"He really is too sweet," Noin whispered chokingly, fighting back her own tears at what she saw as her deplorable behavior.
"Yes, he is," Trowa agreed, once again turning Noin to face him. "Not many guys would go that far to fulfill their boyfriend's fantasies..."
Noin gasped, staring at him.
"Miss Noin, you're car's waiting," Quatre said, walking back in.
She swallowed, stepping back away from Trowa in shock, in disbelief. "Th-thank you, Quatre," she replied, stepping to the door. "Have a good night. Thank you for having me over. It was a—a... pleasant evening," she finished before turning and leaving.
Quatre stared at the door, sadly. "Did we go to far?" he asked, fearing the answer was yes.
"I don't think so," Trowa replied from behind him. Arms wrapped around his waist and Trowa buried his face in Quatre's neck. "You were wonderful," he murmured against the pale-golden skin.
Quatre melted back against his lover. "I didn't have much choice in the matter," he admitted slowly. Trowa frowned and pulled away. Quatre took the opportunity to turn around and smile up at his lover. "She was so hard up I thought I was going to pop!" he admitted, leaning up to taste Trowa's lips.
Trowa responded naturally, parting to allow his little blond lover access to his mouth. He could taste the lingering flavor of Noin and he decided the taste wasn't all that unpleasant.
Outside the local Winner Estate, Lucrezia Noin sat in her car, too stunned by the events to drive away.
'We won't tell anyone, and we don't expect this to repeat itself,' Trowa had told her.
Well, maybe not, but that didn't mean she couldn't fantasize about it for the next several up coming months!
OWARI
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com