September 20, 2000
Rating: Mature audience only, please...
Pairings: 1+2+5, 3+4, 6+9, S+11
Warnings: Yaoi LEMON. Sappy in some parts. Angst in other areas. Strong language at unexpected turns. A pregnant Wufei & Noin. Major confusion! Out of control characters... I think that pretty much covers it! ^_^;;
Feedback: C&C is always welcomed and adored.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and are only being used for non-profit entertainment purposes. References to printed texts, films, sitcoms, musical pieces, and/or other fanfictions don't belong to me either.
Notes: "Oh Baby, Baby" is in approximately 203 AC, placing the boys at ~23-24 years of age.
The G-boys and Jake have returned to Earth. Jake, Duo, and Wufei are headed to Quatre's Estate while Heero, Trowa, and Quatre paid a little visit to Preventer Head Quarters.
"Home, Master Quatre?"
The blond looked at the young man who was holding the limo door open for him expectantly. "Yes, thank you, Ferran," he said after a moment, ducking inside the cool confining shelter of the car.
The door shut tight smartly behind his heels.
"So now all we can do is read the files and wait," Trowa said, pulling the smaller man closer.
"Mmm," the blond acknowledged, wrapping his arms around his love. "I hate waiting."
Trowa drop-kissed the blond's head.
"It can't be helped," Heero said, not looking at either one of them, arms crossed, head down. For all the world, he could have been sleeping. But wasn't.
"Do you want me to stay here?" Trowa asked, looking over to the Japanese man.
Heero looked at him for a moment and then shook his head. "No, it's better if you stay with Quatre, that way I can keep in touch with both of you and you can watch over him."
"I don't need a bodyguard, you know," the blond man pouted, crossing his arms and looking over to the Japanese man with those large marine-blue eyes.
Heero smiled. "I was thinking more of a babysitter."
"Babysitter?" Quatre stared at Heero stunned for a moment--and then a mischievous glint lit his marine colored eyes. The two men only had a second to prepare before the blond launched himself across the confines of the limo and pounced.
"Oomph!" sounded when Heero caught the 148 pounds worth of squiggling Arabian and quickly dissolved into a surprised bark of laughter. In short Heero found that Quatre wasn't the only one squirming. Trowa watched on, content from the safety of his seat as the two grown men engaged in an amusing game of 'tickles'.
Quatre was at a distinct disadvantage--being the ticklish of the two--and quickly succumbed to Heero's retaliation. Within seconds Heero was cradling the blond man as they gasped for breath, Quatre's body shaking in his arms. It was another moment before the Japanese man realized Quatre wasn't laughing--he was crying.
Heero pulled away, dipping his head to look down at the quivering mass in his arms. Stunned, he pushed the blond curls away from the flushed face, frowning. He darted a questioning look across the seat to Trowa, but the other man was frowning with concern also. Both hands moved of their own accord to reach up and around and cup the angel-like face that had captured more hearts than one--more than forty...
"Quatre," he whispered hoarsely. Watering marine eyes darted away from his intense gaze, refusing to look at him, but Heero tilted his chin towards him. Blue met blue, confusion and concern and worry warred with pain and guilt and sorrow. "What's wrong?"
The reply came tumbling out like a flood as Quatre wrapped his arms around Heero's neck in a death-grip and buried his head somewhere in the same vicinity. The mumbled words that floated up to his ears sent his cobalt gaze flying across the limo to meet and hold with an emerald gaze.
"I'm sorry, Heero. I'm so, so sorry! It's my fault. If anything bad happens, if anything bad happens to Wufei or the baby, it's my fault! It's all my fault!"
Biting fingers wrapped around his arms, shaking him free from his hold, pulling/pushing him back, away from Heero, but the flood of words didn't stop.
"It's my fault, all my fault. And I know I deserve any hate and contempt you must feel for me, Allah knows I hate myself, and--"
"Stop it," Heero managed to grind out past his tight throat, burning with all the emotions he'd fought so hard to repress since the 'incident' had arisen. "Stop it," he repeated, giving the small blond a hard shake. "Do you hear me? Stop it. Stop this right now."
Quatre snapped his mouth shout and braced himself, forcing himself to look up, to meet Heero's gaze, to meet the contempt he knew would be there. He looked up... and swallowed.
"Damn you, Quatre," Heero said hoarsely. "Damn you for doing this, now, when I need you to be strong."
As suddenly as he was pushed away, Quatre was pulled back close, strangled within a tight hug. "Damn you for doing this to me now," were the choked words that slipped past the lips embedded near his scalp.
"I'm sorry," was all he could say, weakly, gasping, still crying.
"Don't be," Heero bit out. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for." But the pressure of his arms around the smaller man didn't release. "Wufei knew there were risks involved, even if he didn't know what they were or how many there were. He knew there might be problems. This was something he chose to do, Quatre. You didn't force him to do anything he wasn't willing to do."
Heero didn't remove his face from the clean-smelling blond head or his arms from the smaller body. He held fast, softly saying, "Don't do this, Quatre. Don't be sorry for something that was out of your control. Yes. I'm angry. I'm angry, but not at you, Quatre. Do you hear me? I'm not angry at you."
He pulled away and grabbed the blond's face again, staring down into it searchingly--for what, he wasn't sure. "I'm angry that Wufei rushed into this without knowing all the facts. I'm angry that something bad might happen to him. I'm angry that something bad might happen to that baby he's so damn insistent upon having." He swallowed, hard. "I'm angry that something bad might happen and there won't be a thing I can to do stop it." His eyes searched Quatre's face. "But I'm not angry at you, Quatre. Do you hear me? I'm not angry at you, I'm angry at myself--"
Quatre's lips pressed against his, stopping any words he might have said. There was a frenzy within the one kiss that belied it being anything simple; an emotion, passing from one man to the other and then back again, shared. Concern. Concern for themselves, yes. Concern for each other, definitely. But, also, concern for someone they both loved.
His mouth opened, his tongue darting out to trace the crease of Heero's lips. They opened obeyingly beneath the gentle touch and Quatre's tongue delved into Heero's warm mouth, sliding past his teeth with a tiny lick. Tongue pressed against tongue, meeting, matching, pulling away, and then meeting again.
Quatre shifted in Heero's lap, sliding, his knees falling to either side of the Japanese man's waist as he pressed closer. Heero moaned in response and he realized that Quatre hadn't given up his position; he'd simply changed the battle. Heero was nothing if not a soldier who understood battles and strategy and he quickly answered the challenge, allowing Quatre a moment to take control like he had with the tickle war moments before--before overpowering the blond man.
Heero allowed the tongue free access to his mouth, but once there, it became his captive, trapped by teeth and tongue and lips. He sucked on it, coaxing Quatre's tongue farther into his mouth. His hands slid from their punishing grip, slid down to that smooth backside, massaging, moving the blond against him.
Across the space of the limo, on the other seat, Trowa watched his two lovers fight for dominance. The uni-banged young man shifted, uncrossed his legs, re-crossed his legs, and finally checked on some things. The divider between driver and cab was up, the curtains pulled. With a flick of his wrist soft music began to pour into the their compartment. And then he retrieved the all-important-ever-ready tube from Quatre's attaché case.
He'd been with the blond too long not to know where tickle wars ended up...
He leaned back in the seat, continuing to watch the play of dominance between the two men. He wasn't surprised that the blond had been crying only moments before--he was too used to his love's mood swings--but he was concerned. The blond was too much like the rest of them, and nothing like them at the same time--too protective of his fellow lovers. Too domineering. Too high-strung.
Except when they could... bring him back to himself.
Quatre moaned, effectively pulling his attention back to the pair. The blond's head had fallen back; marine eyes shut tight, two hands fisted in the depths of Heero's hair. Heero's lips had traipsed free from Quatre's and were now suckling on an earlobe; his hands and fingers still dancing magically across that backside.
Quatre whimpered again. "Damn you, Heero," he gasped. "Damn you for not allowing me to be weak..."
Trowa smiled and moved across the seat, moving to join the other two. He eased on to the seat beside them, watching, always watching. A growl reached his ears--Heero's throaty voice, Quatre's loving name...
"Please, Heero," the blond cried softly, his hands massaging the scalp beneath his fingers. "Please forgive me." His head fell forward, falling onto Heero's shoulder. He nuzzled it, whimpering as Heero's lips turned to his throat.
The small blond's hands fell from the dark hair and squeezed Heero's shoulders. Heero responded by sucking a small circle of flesh throat into his mouth, and then, gently, biting down on it. Quatre cried out, arching closer to him, accepting what the other could give, would give.
Trowa shifted again, watching carefully. Always watching. He waited for the play between the two to come to an end, regretful that he could not be of more help to them at this point. He knew his love too well to know that words were as important as deeds to his blond angel. And now, all that was left were the words they both waited for.
"I forgive you, Quatre," Heero whispered against the abused flesh. "I forgi--"
Quatre's lips were once again pushing against his, fiercely, desperately. Heero groaned, tightening his hold around the blond, squeezing them closer. Quatre moaned, rocking his hips against the other. Heero responded immediately, his erection pressing against Quatre's.
Trowa moved, reaching for the starched white business shirt Quatre was wearing. Moving behind his blond love, his hands creeping under the raised arms, pulling at the shirt, working it free from his belted waist. Quatre moaned, shifting, aiding Trowa's actions.
"You two look sexy like this," he told them, his hands slipping under the freed shirt, caressing Quatre's rib cage.
Quatre purred, his lips fell from Heero's mouth and seizing onto his throat instead. Trowa met and held Heero's burning gaze.
"Hn," the other replied, leaning forward, seizing Trowa's lips in a kiss of their own.
Quatre's talented little mouth had moved away from Heero's throat and was now teething a cotton-clad shoulder. He bit down.
Heero jerked, thrusting against Quatre. Quatre reared back against Trowa. All three groaned.
"Would somebody just please fuck me?" Quatre gasped. "It's been over 24 hours already..."
"Twenty-three hours, sixteen minutes," Trowa replied, already reaching for Quatre's belt. "But who's counting?"
"And they call *me* the nymphomaniac," Quatre grumbled against Heero's throat as Trowa's hands delved into his now loose and unfastened pants. He groaned appreciatively, rubbing against the hand that was stroking him.
Somehow they managed to shed their clothes until all three of them were sprawled over each other, naked, touching whatever they could, wherever they could. Kissing, sucking, teething, nipping, licking. Quatre managed to wiggle around so that he was facing Trowa and brought his love's lips to his, thrusting his tongue into that warm, wonderful mouth repeatedly.
Trowa moved against him, pushing him into Heero. Heero moved behind him, pushing him into Trowa. Trowa was kneeling on the floorboards, between Quatre's spread legs, kissing him, his hand pumping Quatre's erection, his fingers teasing, smearing the glistening pre-cum.
Heero was varying from sucking on Quatre's neck to nibbling at the blond's earlobe. He rubbed his own erection across Quatre's ass, stimulating both of them. He had one hand on Quatre and one on Trowa, tweaking their tight little nipples, their moans mixing, mating, cresendo-ing past the soft music.
Trowa groped blindly for the tube he *knew* he'd brought over and then, upon finding it, thrust it into the hand pinching him. The hand disappeared and he felt Quatre tense. He squeezed Quatre tight. The blond whimpered in his mouth. The was a slight shifting of bodies... and then...
Quatre threw his head back with a silent scream. Heero took the opportunity to seize the man's shoulder with his teeth. Trowa let his lips trail down that long exposed throat, sucking, licking, teething, kissing. He tasted the sweat and the distinct flavor that was his Quatre. He wanted to taste more.
Lips trailing lower, Trowa kissed that firm stomach that would have been a washboard if the other worked out any more than he already did. He let his tongue dart into the blond's bellybutton, overly conscious of the hard shaft pressing at his throat and the gentle rocking of those slim hips...
He didn't stay long at the lovely little indenture... that wasn't his target. Still holding Quatre in one hand, the uni-banged young man dipped his head lower, his tongue darting out to taste the creamy pre-cum spread by his fingers.
Quatre's hips bucked at the first touch, but the biting fingers dug into his hips, and ground him back against Heero. Heero, at the same time, was pushing up, forward, grinding into Quatre. He moaned at the twin pleasures--the pleasures of someone moving behind him, inside of him and the pleasures of someone moving in front of him, taking him into himself...
Trowa smiled, leaning closer. His lips slipped around that weeping head, pulling it into his mouth, licking the underside, licking the tiny slit--
Quatre's hands shoved into his hair, fisting around the silky strands, pulling tight. Trowa smiled and replied to the not-so-gentle request, engulfing Quatre's entire length and swallowing it. Above him, Quatre gave a tiny strangled scream, his hands tightening, feeling like they were about to rip Trowa's hair out from its roots. Trowa swallowed harder, letting his entire mouth massage the blond's penis.
Heero was in high-focus mode, focusing on every point where his body touched Quatre's, focusing on the tight heat that encased his dick in the blond's body, focusing on every tiny movement the blond made, every tiny sound that fell from those pink lips. Quatre's blond head rolled back onto his shoulder and, as he bruised the hell out of the other's shoulder, he stared down that finely shaped chest and torso, stared down at the dark head whose face was hidden in the blond's crotch.
Heero began thrusting harder, thrusting not only into the blond's willing body, but into the hungry mouth eating the blond as well. He throat dry, he bit down extra-ordinarily hard on the tender shoulder, causing the blond to scream, hips jerking between dick and mouth. Heero traded one milky thigh to bury his own hand into Trowa's fine hair, pulling the other man closer to Quatre, watching as wisps of bangs that weren't firmly balled up in Quatre's small fists danced over the pale stomach.
Heero licked up the small wound his teeth had inflicted and then removed his lips to Quatre's ears. "Come for me, Quatre," he whispered hoarsely, licking behind the ear before taking the lobe between his lips.
Quatre groaned and whimpered, his hands squeezing fistfuls of Trowa's wonderful hair, his head rocking from side to side on Heero's strong shoulder. He could feel them, all around him, engulfing him, fucking him. He cried out, his hips jerking uncontrollably as a stream of tiny cries that sounded a lot like "Trowa" fell from his lips. And then, Heero whispered something in his ear... and the blend of breath against the sensitive flesh and the words mixed together to send his body arching, his head and eyes rolling back, his throat constricted so that the roar he screamed was silent.
Trowa felt the tightening of his blond love and had only a moment to prepare himself, pulling back just enough so that when Quatre's seed came spurting into him, it had someplace to go. The tangy, bitter-sweetness slid over his tongue seconds later and he quickly swallowed it up, his eyes closed and moaning. He licked his blond clean, from base to tip, taking another moment to nibble again at the now flaccid head.
Quatre was murmuring something, his hands smoothing through Trowa's hair as the other licked his penis clean. He sighed, moving back against Heero, ready to fall asleep until they got home.
Trowa pulled back finally, and looked up that golden body, his eyes drinking in the sight of his two lovers. He hadn't lied when he told them they looked sexy together. It made his cock tighten just looking at them like this. He swallowed, staring up, his eyes locking to that burning cobalt gaze.
And then he crawled up that beautiful body until he was face to face with Heero, absently taking in the tiny bruises rained over Quatre's shoulder. He leaned over that shoulder, pressing the full length of his body against Quatre's and kissed Heero. Both pairs of eyes drifted shut as both men fell into the kiss.
"Bite him," Quatre gasped as his body was locked between theirs.
Trowa's lips broke free from Heero's and quickly seized over the stretched flesh covering one shoulder. His teeth gently bite down and Quatre's body thrust against him, Quatre and Heero both gasping. Understanding flared when he realized his blond had been the only one to come minutes before.
He scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin again and again, the panting in his ear increasing.
"Trowa..." he warned. The other opened his mouth and bit down, hard.
Heero bucked hard in returned, grinding into the blond, forcing him into Trowa--not that Trowa was of a mind to complain. The blond whimpered, however--more because he was becoming aroused again than because of any pain. Quatre's hands fell down Trowa's back, caressingly, reaching that tight ass and tracing its curve. A finger slipped between the two cheeks and Trowa moaned appreciatively against Heero's shoulder as he rubbed his cock against Quatre's.
"Tube," Quatre murmured as his fingers danced over Trowa's body. Trowa moaned, but Heero complied and soon one slick finger was moving in and out of Trowa's body... and then another... and then another...
"Oh, God, Quatre, please," Trowa grounded out, thrusting against the blond.
"Trowa," the blond answered, his lips falling to his love's neck and sucking. He was about to try and bring his legs up around the other two when he felt himself pushed back onto the floorboards. He knew a minute of startlement before his love's body was pressing into his, lifting up his legs, and thrusting into him.
Heero stared shocked for a moment where he was, still on the seat, staring down at the sight at his feet: Quatre thrusting wildly into a thrashing Trowa. He grabbed his dick and tugged, wishing Duo or Wufei or both were here. He came at about the same time the two on the floor cried out.
********** End of "Oh Baby, Baby" Part Eighteen **********
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com