21-Mar-2002
Title: Predatory Behavior
Author: Sparcck
Archive: Yes; www.gwaddiction.com and Steel (www.steelsong.com). My site at www.twobythree.com/sparcck.
Category: Romance, Lemon, 3x4
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Lemon, SortofSlutty!Quatre, and a pinprick of AngstyIndecision!Trowa
Spoilers: Well, if you didn't know that Trowa worked at a circus, man, you're gonna be pissed at me now.
Notes: For Chrissy: beta-reader, pillar of support, Con Buddy, Editor, sous chef, forgetful roommate.
Feedback: All comments, criticism, flames, marriage proposals, and death threats should be sent, with care, to sparcck.
Author's notes: I know I'm working on three other incredibly important fics. But wait. The other day I was watching this show on lions and I don't know what happened but this one image popped into my head and when I told Chrissy about it... well, it's not like she twisted my arm but she, like, pinched me really hard, sort of, and here you go.
Trowa knew Quatre heard him come in, but he didn't move from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and studying whatever he was watching intensely.
He stopped in the doorway to the den, behind the couch Quatre was perched on, and dropped his bag deliberately. He was tired. He was sweaty. He had missed Quatre very much on his assignment, and a week without Quatre had left him pining for the more primal part of their relationship.
Quatre held up a hand and shushed him; Trowa pictured his golden brows drawing together in a frown.
"Quatre, I--"
"Hush." The other man spared him barely a glance away from the television. "I can't hear."
Trowa had to take a deep breath, running his fingers through his damp hair.
Quatre glanced at him quickly again, and then once more, this time turning back to the television with a smirk.
Trowa scowled and turned to catch a glimpse of himself in the decorated mirror hanging on the opposite wall across the hallway. What he saw was a tall man that looked vaguely like the now-named Trowa Barton, except for his hair sticking up in back, bangs slicked against his forehead and almost all the way behind his left ear.
"Glad you're finding this amusing," he growled. In the mirror over his shoulder, as he tried to tame his hair, he thought he saw Quatre shiver a bit.
He squinted, trying to make out what Quatre was watching, but the television was on a bad angle for the mirror. He found himself torn between interrupting his lover and going upstairs to shower and wait for Quatre to come find him and apologize.
But Quatre looked so intense, his head cocked slightly to the right like he did when he was concentrating very hard, and rubbing his earlobe between his right index finger and thumb, like he did when he was turned on.
Oh.
He decided to interrupt.
Sliding his hands into that thick mop of blonde hair, Trowa leaned close to his lover's ear and whispered, "Anything interesting?"
He watched as Quatre's eyes fluttered. "Quite informative, actually."
Trowa let his eyes slide to the television where a large lion was snapping at a tawny lion cub who was playfully batting at the older male's nose. He chuckled. "This is what had you so..." his hand came up to cup against Quatre's throat, his thumb brushing his earlobe.
Quatre pulled away slightly, turning his head to nip at Trowa's thumb, his eyes still trained intently on the screen. "It's fascinating. But you would know, I suppose."
"Hm." Trowa tucked his thumb into a fist, sliding it down to rest on Quatre's collarbone. "What I find fascinating is that I was shushed like a four-year-old after having not seen you in a week."
Quatre shrugged, just barely able to conceal one of his beaming grins. "My, Trowa, how you flatter yourself." He picked up the remote and turned up the volume slightly.
Trowa rested his chin on Quatre's shoulder and considered what could be happening. Heero had told him that sometimes Duo got into moods where his games seemed a little too much like work for Heero's comfort. And Quatre could be infinitely more devious than Duo had ever imagined, Trowa supposed.
He did know, however, that Heero never had a problem with the game once it got started, or any of Duo's numerous games for that matter; but then again Trowa thought he would dislike the controlled violence that Heero and Duo's private life sometimes flirted with and couldn't imagine holding Quatre down using brute force.
Unless that's what he wanted. He had never really considered that option before.
Suddenly he found himself to be the one suppressing a shudder. He looked back to the screen , watching the pack leader mount a female aggressively as she growled at him, baring her teeth.
He looked down as Quatre's fingers brushed Trowa's cheek: rubbing his earlobe again.
Oh.
Trowa smirked, leaned closer and mouthed at the pulse at the side of Quatre's neck. "Quatre."
"Mm?" Quatre bent his head a bit, his hand drifting to brush over Trowa's earlobe.
"How many times have you watched this program since I've been gone?"
"Third night this week," he said, a little out of breath. "Although last night was more around three this morning."
"You knew I was getting in around now."
"I actually thought later." Definitely out of breath now, and his fingers were busy tracing the contours of the shell of Trowa's ear and down around the base of his skull. "This is pure coincidence."
"Really."
"Really."
"Happy?"
Quatre chuckled and the smooth velvet of a calculating noise from Quatre's throat sent pleasant shivers down Trowa's spine. "Ecstatic." He turned his head and caught Trowa's mouth with his own, swiping his tongue over the crease of his lips, pulling away before Trowa's brain could recover from its usual Quatre-induced stutter.
Trowa felt Quatre's shoulder moving slightly, rolling in a slow but consistent motion, and he looked down to see Quatre lightly stroking himself through the thin fabric of his linen trousers.
He must have made some noise, because when he looked back up at Quatre, he found Quatre looking back at him with a slow smile and hooded eyes.
"Is that for me?" and his voice was a little rougher than he even meant for it to be, the thought of Quatre's pale hand moving on himself making his chest tight, "Or..." he let his voice trail of, meaningfully looking at the television, where the same large male was now reaching out his huge tongue to lick at the haunches of a snarling female.
The color that rose to Quatre's cheeks confirmed it, and his hand stilled, pressing hard into the flesh that was clearly outlined between his legs. "Both?"
"Mm." Trowa pulled him back flush against the couch and pressed the full length of his body against the back, sliding his hands over Quatre's chest, circling around his already erect nipples. "Don't stop."
Quatre's head fell back, his hair sliding against Trowa's face, and his hand moved again, faster but still steady.
Trowa slid around the edge of the couch, watching Quatre's hand move. He knelt between Quatre's legs and leaned forward, blowing air across Quatre's fingers and watching his erection twitch.
Quatre's eyes snapped open and he trailed his fingers lightly down Trowa's cheek before climbing up onto the couch, sitting on the back with his legs spread, his bare feet sunken into the soft cushions.
Trowa moved to follow but Quatre made a noise and nudged him back with his knee against his chest, trailing his hands up his thighs and over his stomach.
"Quatre," Trowa said, trying to move up the couch, and Quatre shook his head, sliding his legs over the back of the couch and dropping lightly to the floor on the other side.
His shirt caught on the couch back and rode up and Trowa tried to grab at it, startled when Quatre laughed and bent, letting the loose fabric slip over his head and off his arms.
The other man stopped, one hand on the couch back and one knee on the couch, waiting to see what Quatre would do next.
Quatre licked his lips and rubbed one hand over his chest, fingers circling one nipple slowly, as he backed away from the couch. "You'll have to do better than that."
"Hm." Trowa sprang into motion, vaulting easily over the couch and, as Quatre tried to run, reached out to catch a belt loop and drag Quatre towards him.
Quatre twisted and shoved his ass back into Trowa, hard, suddenly going limp.
"Enough?" Trowa breathed, kissing Quatre's ear and working one hand under his pants. "I kind of like this-- Nngh!" He jerked back when sharp teeth bit hard into his shoulder without warning, and Quatre scrambled away from him.
He looked up from where he knelt on the floor, Quatre a few feet away and bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Quatre's eyes, bright with lust and exertion, flicked very quickly towards the television and then back to Trowa.
Trowa arranged his features into a mask of indifference, getting to his feet slowly. He had to plot out his next move, like he had seen the lions at the circus do when they wanted to mate. Somehow, the thought of the animals made him hotter, and his cock ached.
Difficult to think, but the end result...
He feinted left, then lunged right, landing hard when there was nothing there to grab.
Quatre's laughter rang out and he looked left to see his lover trotting down the hallway, his hips swaying quite deliberately. Damn his strategic mind.
He got to his feet again, and backed into the den, turning and smacking into the end table that was right next to the couch. He swore but kept going, running for the door that would lead to the library, and then to the stairs that he was certain Quatre was heading for. He just had to play it smarter.
He was sure the lions never had to do this much work. Then again, the lions probably didn't have this much fun.
He sprinted into the library, easily maneuvering around furniture, and then rounded the corner into the back hallway.
Quatre almost managed to evade him, but Trowa was just faster. Then they were on the floor again, tangled around each other, and Trowa unconsciously rubbed against his belly when he felt Quatre's ribs rising and falling rapidly against him.
It was exciting and sort of dangerous, and much different than anything they'd done before.
Quatre lay on his back, Trowa straddling his belly, and grabbed his shirt with both hands, pushing the fabric up into his armpits. "Your turn," he said, his breath coming hard and fast.
Trowa complied eagerly, struggling, suddenly graceless, to get his shirt over his head. He yelped again when he felt teeth sink into one pectoral muscle and small hands twisted his shirt around his hands, pushing him backwards and wriggling out from under him.
"So close," Quatre whispered, licking the bite mark, and then he was gone again, his footfalls betraying him up the stairs.
Trowa jumped up and ran after him, figuring that if he couldn't outsmart him, he would just have to overpower him. He stopped halfway up the stairs, panting and leaning on the handrail, and pictured himself holding Quatre down, yanking off his pants, touching him roughly.
He closed his eyes and gulped in air, suddenly feeling sick. He knew it was a game. It was Quatre's game, probably one he had been planning since he first saw that damn show. But the image of Quatre on his knees, begging Trowa to stop made his stomach clench.
He crouched on the stairs and leaned his forehead against the railing, squeezing his eyes shut.
And then there was a gentle hand on his shoulder, rubbing slow circles on his bare back. "What happened, Trowa?"
Trowa shook his head, standing and stepping down two stairs.
"But we're not done."
Raising his eyebrows at the half-commanding, half-petulant note in Quatre's voice, Trowa backed up one more stair. "I don't think--"
"Why are you thinking at all?"
"You could get hurt."
"You're the one who fell ten times trying to chase me through the house you live in. Honestly, Trowa, tripping over the end table?" Quatre moved to stand on the step above Trowa, putting his hands on his shoulders again.
"I'm taller than you," he mumbled. "And that's not what I meant."
"Hm." Quatre's hands had slid lower and were lightly massaging Trowa's lower back. He cocked his head to the right a little and there were slight furrows in his brow. Concentrating again, Trowa thought. Calculating.
"Quatre, I just feel a little uncomfortable--"
"Isn't this helping?"
Trowa looked down into bright blue eyes and shivered as one of Quatre's hands dipped gentle fingers below his waistband. He swayed towards him. "Yes. But--"
"No buts. Well, maybe just one." And he squeezed one cheek through Trowa's boxer-briefs.
Trowa moaned involuntarily.
"Now. I'm going to run. And you're going to hunt me, and catch me, and take me like a good pride leader should."
"Quatre."
Quatre leaned forward and licked a long trail up Trowa's neck to his ear, where he nibbled on the earlobe, tugging on the small gold hoop there. "I won't break."
"I know."
"Then show me."
And before Trowa could do anything, Quatre grabbed the back of his head and kissed him, hard, forcing his mouth open and sweeping his tongue inside. It was hot and wet and left Trowa weak-kneed when Quatre pulled back, then turned and ran up the stairs.
"Ten second head start," he called over his shoulder and disappeared around the corner.
Putting all thoughts except of Quatre, shirtless and pressed up against him, out of his head, Trowa followed, taking the stairs two at a time.
All the doors on the second floor were closed. Trowa walked on the balls of his feet, moving quietly, stopping in front of each one and listening for the subtle catch in the air that Quatre always seemed to carry with him.
Behind the second door on the left, a guest room, Trowa heard him. He was holding his breath, but the room buzzed faintly with Quatre's energy, and if Trowa believed in such things, he would say it was his spaceheart, or his aura. But he didn't; he knew it was just Quatre, just the way he was and the heat he carried with him.
He shivered.
He knew there was no way to really surprise him once the door was open, so he took a breath and barreled inside, flinging himself towards Quatre who laughed and squirmed and they both fell back onto the bed.
Quatre managed to twist onto his stomach and pulled at the headboard, but Trowa, in a burst of passion and love and maybe something a little bit darker, held tight and flipped him over again, getting one hand between them.
Panting, Quatre arched up against him, sliding his hands over his bare back and up his neck into his hair.
Trowa reached up and took both of Quatre's wrists in his, pinning them to the bed above his head. He fumbled one handed at Quatre's waist, pushing Quatre's pants down around his thighs.
He moaned when he saw Quatre wasn't wearing any underwear and his erection sprang out, curving hard and dark pink against his belly.
Quatre whimpered and thrust his hips jerkily under Trowa, his eyes squeezed shut.
Trowa faltered for a second, staring down at Quatre, before slowly releasing his hands.
"It's okay," Quatre said, opening his eyes. "You won't hurt me."
The other man moved tentatively against him and Quatre smiled. "I love you," Quatre said.
It was a gift, Trowa realized. He had missed Quatre and Quatre had missed him, and this was something he had needed without realizing it: control and the opportunity to use it properly.
"I love you," Trowa replied softly, lowering his head to kiss him slowly, firmly.
Suddenly Quatre pushed him back on his haunches, reaching for his waist, undoing his belt and buttons and resting his hands on Trowa's thighs. "I want this. I want you."
He leaned forward and buried his face in the mound of pillows, presenting to Trowa. "Take me."
No hesitation as his blood surged in him and his heart squeezed with love and desire and every good thing Quatre had taught him in their five years together. He shucked his pants and boxers and reached out for his lover.
He ran his hands over Quatre's cheeks, spreading them apart gently. The smaller man rubbed back into Trowa's palms, and Trowa felt his breathing quicken.
He knelt forward and kissed softly over the flesh of each cheek, lapping towards the cleft he had pulled open. When he ran the flat of his tongue over Quatre's entrance, Quatre's gasped and jerked backwards, bowing the small of his back inwards and shuddering.
"Trowa," he said, on an indrawn breath and Trowa found himself shuddering at the sound of it.
He blew air over Quatre's tight hole, and it contracted and then opened sharply and Trowa, holding Quatre's cheeks open hard, found that he couldn't stop himself from thrusting his tongue inside of him.
Quatre moaned and Trowa squeezed the flesh in his hands, feeling Quatre writhe and claw at the bed.
"Trowa," he rasped. "Trowa, now. Please, now."
Trowa pulled back and soothed the flesh he had reddened unintentionally. "Wait, let me get--"
"No!" Quatre almost sobbed out. "No, do it now."
Trowa grasped that small waist with one hand and positioned himself with the other hand. Quatre convulsed, like he was trying to suck Trowa inside himself.
He lowered his head and raised his shoulderblades and Trowa thought that from this angle, with his golden hair spiked out with sweat, Quatre looked like the animal he had wanted to emulate.
Quatre mewled and pushed back against him, his hips bucking in Trowa's grasp. "I've been waiting a week for this. I want you now. Hard."
"Oh." It was said quietly, almost reverently, and then Trowa's blood surged hot to his head and to his groin and he felt almost heady with the power he held over Quatre, with the knowledge that Quatre held the same power over him and gave it up for tonight.
He growled low in his throat, without meaning to, and he heard Quatre hiss something through his teeth, maybe "yes" or maybe just an inarticulate groan, and then Trowa clamped his hands down on Quatre's ribs, squeezing his chest tight, and thrust hard into him.
Quatre howled and thrashed in his grip, and Trowa curved over Quatre's back, nipping gently on his shoulder.
But his lover had different ideas, and turned his head, gnashing his teeth, snapping at Trowa's exposed throat. He was making animal noises, thrusting back to meet each of Trowa's thrusts forward, and Trowa could barely make out the word "yes" repeated over and over again, forced out between harsh breaths.
"Mine," Trowa barked and bit the flesh between Quatre's shoulderblades, hard. The bones in Quatre's shoulders peaked sharply and he arched his neck, touching the top of Trowa's head before letting it drop, pressing his forehead into the bare bed, where the sheets had pulled out and the pillows had fallen to the floor.
Trowa reached under Quatre and took his erection in his hand, squeezing it roughly, stroking him in time with his frantic thrusts.
Then Quatre was speaking, but it didn't sound like him, his voice hoarse and desperate. Trowa struggled to focus on his lover's voice--
"...Trowa, I'm-- ah, going to-- oh yes yes going to-- a little more I--"
--and then Quatre's cock pulsed in his hand and with a shout he came, covering Trowa's fingers and his own belly and the bed and it seemed he came and came...
...and with a shout Trowa felt something in him break and he snapped his hips forward harder than he even thought he had the strength to, and he shuddered and bit down and held on as hard as he could as he came inside of Quatre, pressing deeper and harder one more time...
They both collapsed, panting, and Trowa felt something wet on his cheek that smelled almost coppery and he feebly lifted his head to find a smear of blood and sweat painting the pale skin between Quatre's shoulders.
Before he even thought about it, he lapped at the wound he had made, tasting Quatre, purely Quatre, on his tongue.
Quatre sighed shakily, the muscles in his back twitching under Trowa's mouth.
Minutes passed as Trowa cleaned the rest of Quatre's back, licking up sweat and threads of blood and then he pulled out gently, sliding to his lover's side as he turned over lazily.
Quatre twisted on his back, his body curving gracefully, a content smile on his face. He caught Trowa's eye and swiped a hand fisted into a paw at one hard brown nipple.
"Did you know," Quatre asked, still out of breath, "that female lions lay on their back after mating to speed up the fertilization process?"
He chuckled at the look of slight horror on Trowa's face and then nuzzled the join of his shoulder and neck, licking once at the sweat cooling on his skin. "What?"
Trowa raised himself on one elbow and looked down at Quatre, his legs sprawled apart, his arms over his head. He smiled gently and brushed the hair out of Quatre's eyes.
"Bite your tongue."
Quatre closed his eyes as Trowa rubbed his belly and he swore he could feel the rumble of a purr like the big cats. Or like he had heard Duo was wont to do on occasion.
"Good?" Trowa asked softly after a minute.
"Mm. Very good."
Quatre jerked suddenly when Trowa lowered his head and licked around his softened shaft, cleaning him gently. He sat half upright with a gasp, then relaxed back into the bed, tilting his head back and scraching his scalp against the mattress.
"Oh. Trowa."
Trowa nuzzled his lover's thigh with his cheek, sucking first one testicle and then the other into his mouth, biting lightly and soothing with his tongue when he felt Quatre twitch and moan.
Quatre dug his fingers into Trowa's hair and Trowa smiled around the flesh in his mouth before he pulled away.
"Too much?" Trowa asked, resting his chin on Quatre's pelvic bone.
"No... I-- it's just..." His fingers tightened reflexively in Trowa's hair and he squirmed, letting out a gusty breath. His cock jumped and swelled against the underside of Trowa's chin.
Trowa raised an eyebrow and Quatre laughed, out of breath.
"The program said that lions mate fifty times a day sometimes."
"Good thing we're not lions, then." Trowa crawled up Quatre's body and kissed his forehead.
Quatre grabbed the back of Trowa's head, fisting his hair and squeezing hard. "The program also said that it was the only way for the male to stay the pack leader."
Trowa kissed each eyelid and brought his knee up between Quatre's legs to rub against his awakening erection. "Mm? And what else did the program say?"
"Shouldn't you have some lion tips of your own? Keep this up and I think I'll have to break in a whole new-- oh!"
Trowa nipped at Quatre's throat, pressing his hips down against him, sliding his erection against Quatre's. "I have ways. I'm a very good Quatre tamer."
Quatre laughed and rubbed his hands down Trowa's spine, drawing a shuddering sigh from his lover. "So I won't have to go out and find a new Trowa then."
Trowa reached down between their legs, slipping one finger into Quatre's still slicked entrance up to the second knuckle. He smiled when Quatre made a small noise, his full lower lip caught hard between his teeth, and clutched at Trowa's back.
"Oh, no," Trowa said as he moved slowly down, pressing Quatre's legs apart. "I'm pretty sure there's only one Trowa who could tame this particular Quatre."
"Nnn... " Quatre's fingers dug into the flesh of Trowa's upper arms and then, " ...prove it."
So he did.
The End
(:./sparcck/predatory)
