18-Jul-2000
Title: Inferno's Touch ~ Chapter 6
Author: Ravynfyre
Archive: GW Addiction
Category: Yaoi, Humor
Pairings: 4x3, 6+5
Standard Disclaimer: Not mine. Theirs. Too bad, but otherwise, I guess I´d never get anything done >nice hentai thought<. Anyway, not makin' any money offa this so dun sue me. You'd only get some college debt, a few dogs, and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers anyway.
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Gratuitous sex. If youse ain't old enough to be reading this, or male/male relationships (particularly of a sexual nature) bug you, then DON'T READ THIS CHAPTER!!! If you choose to ignore this warning, then your emotional trauma is NOT MY FAULT! Nuff said.
Spoiler: None.
Notes: Some of the events to be portrayed in this chapter should be taken with a hefty dose of Suspension of Disbelief. Whereas the practical joking and such DOES go on in your average fire department, the graphic yaoi lemon does NOT. Hell, graphic hetero lemon doesn't even happen while the guys are on duty. It's unprofessional and risky... but, hey. This is fiction. Furthermore, it's MY fiction, so I can have all the fun with it I want to. Just please do not think that your local firefighters are busy making out like rabid weasels with everything that moves, despite the cramped living quarters. Okay? Thanks!
Feedback: Yes, please. All comments welcome (although flames may be fed to my dogs, who, since they have notoriously gassy intestinal tracts, will be spending the night with the flamer afterwards)
"Well, hello, Quatre," a pleasant male tenor said smoothly, causing the young man to turn around in mid-step to glance at the speaker.
"Dr. Browning! Hello. How are you this morning?" Quatre asked pleasantly, waiting politely as the middle-aged doctor set down his charts at the Emergency Department nurse's station and walked over to talk to him.
"Oh, not bad. Not bad at all. How is the family? I haven't seen Iria since she returned to New York after your father's funeral. Is the 'Big Apple' agreeing with her?"
"Quite well. She's really enjoying her work there."
Dr. Browning gave a slight chuckle, his fingers gracefully massaging the bridge of his nose under his glasses in a gesture that Quatre had long ago identified as an unconscious comfort measure.
"I never would have guessed that sweet young lady to have the makings of a Shock Trauma Surgeon."
"She tells me that it's the best way to help the most people. I think that's why she ended up in New York. She sees the most action there," Quatre replied diffidently.
"Yes, I'm sure. The two of you are so alike, young man. You look like hell. When is the last time you had any decent rest? Isn't Trowa taking care of you?"
"Hmm... Isn't that like the pot calling the kettle black, Dr. Browning? How many traumas did you have last night?" Quatre asked, crossing his arms and tapping his foot in a classic sign of impatient over-protectiveness.
Dr. Browning held up his hands in surrender, his expression both strained with exhaustion and open and easy with a tired chuckle.
"Ah, Quatre. You are such a breath of fresh air after last night. Nine major traumas in six hours, as well as the usual host of Full Moon madness."
"And who's not taking care of himself?" Quatre asked tartly, a smile softening the question.
"Yes. Who? Ah well. I was just on my way to the lounge for a cup of tea. I imagine, since I didn't see you in here last night, that you work today, yes?" the doctor asked, taking in Quatre's Paramedic uniform with an appraising eye.
Quatre nodded.
"Oh well. I was hoping I could tempt you into sharing a cup of tea with an old man, but I suppose you'll want to go check on everyone you brought in the last day you worked before you race hell-for-leather to work," Dr. Browning said, a knowing smile gracing his features.
Quatre simply smiled in answer.
"As I said, Quatre. You are a such a breath of fresh air. I wish all of the Paramedics we had were as dedicated to the well-being of their patients, and as caring as you. Although, I am surprised that Trowa isn't with you this morning... Is everything all right?"
"Oh yes. Catherine has just been concerned. He stayed with her the last few nights. With her baby due, and all this recent crime, she's been so restless. Trowa was afraid she might fret the baby into a premature delivery. Everything's fine."
"Oh good. Well. I should let you get on with your 'rounds'," Dr. Browning said with a smile, "And I shall go get that tea."
"And then go home and get some rest?" Quatre asked.
"Yes, of course. I am so glad you chose me as your mentor, Quatre. You are such a caring young lad, to nag this old doctor into taking care of himself."
"Someone has to, Dr. Browning. I'll give Trowa your regards."
"Thank you, Quatre. And let us hope for an uneventful day, yes?"
Quatre nodded with a smile before he turned and headed for the elevator.
Dr. Browning watched the young Paramedic enter the elevator on his way to fulfill his morning ritual. Such an amazingly empathic young man. He and his partner were the only Paramedics he knew of that actually followed up on their patients. It really was a shame that no on else had that kind of dedication.
Dr. Browning smiled as he slipped off to the lounge for his tea and a quick nap. He was so lucky to have mentored the young man.
He only wished Quatre could understand what a wonderful impact the young man had on the world around him.
"How were they?" the quiet voice asked from behind Quatre as he examined all of the IV bags to make sure they weren't out-dated.
He smiled, his heart doing a little flutter skip in his chest at the sound of that gentle voice.
"They'll live. The baby isn't looking so good, though. The doctors aren't very hopeful," he replied, tucking the last IV back into it's little cabinet on the wall of the ambulance and backing out.
Trowa reached up and caught the shorter blonde as he hopped down from the rig, a small smile hovering in his eyes, despite the stoic expression.
"Hn. I'm sorry I couldn't go with you."
"Don't be. Catherine needs you right now. She'll hurt the baby if she keeps worrying herself so much. I don't mind sharing her brother with her," Quatre replied, reaching up to wrap Trowa into a firm embrace.
"Besides," he continued with a playful twinkle in his aquamarine eyes, "I have you all to myself for the next 24 hours."
"Well... You and every fruitcake, nutball, and drunken freak on this side of town," a bright voice commented brashly from the direction of Engine 8.
"Good morning, Duo," Quatre replied, not even bothering to turn around.
Trowa nodded to the engine's driver as he did his morning check of the rig. Heero was already checking over all of the EMS equipment with silent efficiency.
"How's the head, Duo?" Quatre asked innocently, knowing that Duo had already been pretty well plastered by the time Quatre had called it quits at Jakes two nights ago.
"Ugh. Don't remind me. I think I'm STILL hung over. Thank god SOMEBODY from this station has some sense of team solidarity, otherwise I'd probably be picking myself out of the gutter right now," Duo quipped, tossing a grin at Heero.
Who chose to ignore him.
Trowa had to duck his head a little to hide the smirk tickling his lips. Quatre, for his part, bit the edge of his hand to stifle his giggle.
"But, hey... I guess getting to see me that drunk makes us even for the boots, huh, Heero?" Duo grinned, toggling on the emergency lights and walking around the rig to make sure they were all working. He was out of line-of-sight and earshot when Heero ducked out of the rig and tossed a calculating glare towards Duo.
"Hn. You'll know when we're even, Maxwell."
Trowa's eyebrow shot into his hairline as he regarded the Japanese firefighter. He found himself hoping for a busy day. That way, maybe they could be out of the blast radius when Heero sprung his... whatever.
"Trowa? Are you wishing for a busy day too?" Quatre whispered up to his partner.
"You read my mind."
"No I didn't. I just have a few working brain cells, and a healthy dose of self-preservation instinct. This is going to be bloody."
Trowa's arms tightened around the shorter blonde as the two firemen finished checking over Engine 8 and headed to the kitchen.
Duo raced past Heero, slapping him firmly across the back with a comradely clout. Or at least that's what it was supposed to seem like.
As Heero reached back and removed the "Mr. Grouchy Pants" sign from his back, Trowa couldn't help but agree with his partner.
"So what's on the training schedule for today, Cap'n?" Duo chirped, plopping into the abused kitchen chair with a solid THUD.
"There's no training on Sunday, Duo... Or are you still too drunk to remember what day it is?" Zechs asked patiently.
"Whoops. Forgot. Heh. So we're off the hook then?"
"Once morning chores are taken care of," Zechs replied, sipping slowly at his coffee.
"Sugoi! I'll do the floors, Heero. You grab the bathroom."
Heero nodded sharply, already heading for the cleaning supplies out in the bay. As he slipped into the bay, he paused, blinking in surprise at the sight that greeted him.
Quatre and Trowa were caught up in a tight embrace, complete with a fierce lip-lock.
So all that innuendo hadn't just been for comedy's sake.
He shrugged, undaunted, and then grabbed the cleaning supplies before slipping back out of the bay as quietly as he'd arrived.
Trowa pulled away from Quatre as the shorter blonde started to giggle a little.
"What?"
Quatre's eyes were filling with tears of mirth, and he struggled to regain his composure.
"Oh dear," he finally managed to gasp.
"What?" Trowa repeated patiently.
"He- Heero... I- I don't think... he was quite- quite expecting to see... what he saw, just now," Quatre gasped between chuckles as he wiped the moisture out of his eyes.
Trowa's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"Hn. Then perhaps we should spare him the strain," Trowa replied, lifting Quatre up into the back of the ambulance.
"Trowa! What-"
The taller man silenced his partner, lifting one slender finger to the blonde's lips gently.
"It's Sunday," he explained.
Quatre's eyes lit up, his expression growing playful and wicked all at once.
"It is, isn't it," he replied, taking the collar of Trowa's uniform shirt in his small fist and pulling the taller man towards him.
Trowa allowed himself to be dragged into the back of the ambulance, sparing the briefest of moments to shut the doors behind him with a quiet slam.
And then, as the short blonde's hands started working their way below his shirt, he gave up his cognitive reasoning abilities.
Heero finished with the bathroom in less than ten minutes. He frowned at his inefficiency. As he gathered up the cleaning supplies and started to head back to the bay to return them, Duo arrived with the mop to finish up the floors.
"I wouldn't go out there if I were you," Duo said conversationally.
Heero turned and speared the driver with a quick look that would have been one of curiosity on anyone else.
"It's Sunday," Duo said, as if that should explain everything.
Heero sighed impatiently.
"Sunday's our day to unwind and relax... No training, no major responsibilities, other than the normal assortment of calls. Trowa and Quatre usually take advantage of the peace and quiet..."
"Hn."
"Hey... don't say I didn't warn you then," Duo replied, smirking.
Heero's eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned to glare at Engine 8's driver.
"What's the matter, Maxwell? Does the thought of a pair of grown men screwing like minks bother you?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.
Duo blinked, clearly not expecting THAT reaction from the normally taciturn rookie. And then the question finally seemed to sink into the driver's brain. A sunny grin broke out over his features, and a mirthful chuckle burbled from his lips.
"Bother me? Heh! If it did, I sure as hell wouldn't still be at THIS station, Yuy... What about you?" Duo asked, his expression daring the Japanese man to answer the way his own hormones wanted him to.
Heero simply turned on his heel and strode, completely unconcerned, into the truck bay.
"Well, I'll be damned," Duo muttered under his breath, a wicked little smile breaking over his face.
Trowa gasped as Quatre's talented hands finished unbuttoning his uniform shirt and pushed it off of his shoulders, intentionally trailing his fingers over the taller man's sensitive flesh teasingly.
Quatre smiled up at his normally quiet partner before pushing him down to sit on the edge of the gurney.
"I've missed you," Quatre murmured, his mouth wandering over the flushed skin of Trowa's throat, lapping at the firm pulse there.
"Hn..."
"It's been so lonely without you being home," he continued, his hands massaging the ridge of Trowa's spine, sliding lower to delve into the back of Trowa's pants.
Trowa's hands came up, cradling Quatre's face, finger's splayed in the blonde man's hair, and thumbs gently massaging Quatre's lips.
Quatre's tongue darted out, flicking across the calloused skin, drawing one thumb into his mouth enticingly and suckling at it gently. His teeth grazed softly against the pad of Trowa's thumb, tongue dancing along the back of the first knuckle in tantalizing patterns.
Trowa groaned silently, reveling in the feel of Quatre's talented mouth on any part of his body. His grip unconsciously tightened on the smaller man's head, fingers flexing and running through Quatre's hair.
Quatre smiled, his hands wandering back up Trowa's spine, up to his ribs, and sliding around to the front of Trowa's body. His slender fingers flexed and gripped, working at Trowa's tense muscles as he slowly slid his hands down past Trowa's stomach and paused at the buckle of the taller man's belt.
Trowa's eyes shut quickly as he concentrated on keeping his breathing slow and steady.
But it really had been a long week, staying with his sister, rather than his lover.
Quatre distracted him by leaning in for a deep kiss, his tongue sparring with Trowa's for dominance.
Quatre eventually won, of course, and in the meantime, had managed to get Trowa's uniform pants unbelted and unsnapped. The smaller man's hands were busily working their way between Trowa's flesh and the cloth of his clothing.
As Quatre gently pushed Trowa the rest of the way down onto the gurney, Trowa kicked off his shoes, thankful yet again that he'd opted for low-cut work shoes, rather than high-topped boots.
Quatre caught the movement out of the corner of his eyes and chuckled wickedly. He maneuvered Trowa until the taller man was lying stretched out on the gurney below him.
"Very lonely," he whispered, climbing on top to straddle Trowa's hips.
Trowa nodded his agreement and went to work on Quatre's clothes.
Quatre shifted position, allowing Trowa to peel his clothing from his overheating body as he leaned down to feast on Trowa's sweat slicked chest. He lapped at the skin, nipping playfully at the firm nubbin of flesh he found while one hand flicked the other pouting nipple into attention.
Trowa groaned and squirmed beneath him, grinding his hips against Quatre's in a silent plea.
Quatre dropped a few apologetic kisses upon Trowa's chest, his hands smoothing down Trowa's sides and fingers massaging soothingly at the taller man's ribs. When Trowa had relaxed into his ministrations again, Quatre quickly peeled the rest of Trowa's clothing from him, dropping them to the floor of the ambulance.
Trowa shuddered a little as the cool air of the rig hit his flushed skin. Quatre leaned down again and reclaimed his mouth in a fierce kiss, almost bruising in its intensity.
While he busied his lips with Trowa's mouth, Quatre's hands were quickly fumbling to his left side, flipping open the Intubation Kit[1] and searching by touch for the KY[2].
He broke off the kiss with a sigh of triumph as his fingers encountered the correct tube, and he withdrew it from the kit.
Below him, Trowa's eyes were half-lidded with almost drowsy pleasure from the intensity of that kiss. Quatre smiled down at his lover languidly.
He reached down between their bodies and firmly grasped Trowa's hardened shaft, making the taller man groan in atavistic pleasure.
"Bet I won't be lonely tonight," Quatre murmured into Trowa's lips.
Trowa tried to stifle the moan that was threatening to leap from his throat as Quatre stroked him tightly. All he managed to do was make it throatier. His eyes shuttered closed again, and his jaw clenched.
Quatre thumbed open the tube easily, so used to the maneuver that it was second nature to do one handed. With an equally deft flick of his fingers, he squeezed out a dollop and worked it onto that hand.
Trowa groaned in frustration as Quatre drew away enough to shift his position. His hands reached out, seeking the smaller man and settling him against his raised legs, taking Quatre's weight.
Quatre smiled, returning his talented hand to Trowa's firm shaft while the other hand snaked down to probe gently at the sensitive ring of puckered flesh he so desperately wanted access to.
Trowa gasped in pain and anticipation as he felt the first finger enter him. He struggled to slow down his breathing and relax his body to the intrusion.
Quatre slid a second finger in, stretching him slowly before he slid the third finger in and probed for that special spot that would drive Trowa over the edge.
He was rewarded after a moment when Trowa gasped suddenly and arched into his hand, hips snapping against his probing digits.
With a feral smile that seemed so incongruous on the normally sweet little blonde's face, Quatre withdrew his fingers and quickly slathered his own aching member with a fresh dollop of KY.
Trowa whimpered below him, hands reaching up to grasp Quatre's shoulders and pull him closer.
Quatre caught up his lover's hands, holding them firmly in his grip as he leaned down and pushed into Trowa slowly.
Trowa's breath exploded from him in a hiss, his face clenched in a mix of purest pleasure and faint pain. Until Quatre thrust forward and hit that spot within him once more, and then the pain vanished in a wave of sweet bliss.
His head rolled back, thrashing against the gurney's pillow as Quatre thrust into him, slowly. He slowly built up the pace and strength, reveling in the soft, throaty moans that Trowa couldn't seem to prevent escaping from himself.
Trowa's breath hitched in his lungs as he felt the heat building within him. It started in the pit of his stomach, and gathered, thrusting up through his body, overtaking his heart and his lungs, rushing up his throat, and screaming over his mind. As it erupted over his senses, he vaguely felt himself explode within Quatre's grip, and his body seized up, every muscle tensing against the rush of heat.
Quatre felt his lover clench below him, the achingly tight heat enveloping him suddenly gripping him in completion. Unable to hold out against that exquisite torment, he let himself fall into his own wave of pleasure, releasing his seed deep within Trowa with a strangled shout.
As sense returned to him, his strength seeped away, leaving him spent and drained.
Trowa reached up, supporting him as he drew the shorter man down against his chest.
Quatre sighed deeply in contentment and snuggled against Trowa's flushed body.
"Cathy said she could do without me tomorrow, too," Trowa murmured, his voice low and satiated.
Quatre laughed delightedly.
"Good. I went shopping yesterday and got us some fresh strawberries and cream," he whispered playfully.
"Hn."
Quatre heard the unspoken eager anticipation in that monosyllable reply and smiled wickedly. He'd save the chocolate body paint as a surprise.
Duo was just putting the final touches on brunch when the back door opened quietly and Wufei slipped in.
"Wu-man! Wasn't sure if you were still gonna join us or not. Big man in Investigations and all that, ya know," Duo said, grinning.
"Wufei. Wufei. How many times do I have to tell you, Maxwell?"
Heero glanced up at Wufei as the Asian man set several VHS tapes on top of the TV beside the door.
"Until you accompany it with a Louisville Slugger," he replied, shooting a small glare at the braided maniac giggling at the stove.
"Good point," Wufei agreed.
Zechs walked out of the bedroom glancing around the kitchen absently. At least until he noticed Wufei standing hesitantly beside the door.
"Wufei," he murmured, inclining his head towards the man in question while a tender little smile played at the corners of his mouth.
"Captain," Wufei replied in kind, eyes warming.
"Okay, okay... enough! I'm drowning here!" Duo called, sighing at the two men with exasperation.
"We could only be so lucky," Heero muttered.
Wufei smirked as Duo spun and threatened the Japanese man with a ladle.
"Who lit the fuse on your tampon, Yuy?" Duo demanded.
"Probably the same man who crashed on my living room floor in a drooling pile of blankets and hair two nights ago."
"Yah yah yah... So I got drunk and passed out. Big deal. Like you've never gotten drunk before," Duo muttered, slopping the last of the gravy into a bowl and depositing it on the table.
"Actually-"
"Don't even. Just don't even go there, Mr. Perfect," Duo said, interrupting Heero with a dangerous grimace, "SOUP'S ON!" he yelled, clearly wishing to end the conversation.
Trowa and Quatre sauntered in from the bay and pulled up chairs at the table. Zechs grabbed the extra chair from the office and made a space next to himself for Wufei. Heero set the manual he was reading aside and helped Duo bring the rest of the dishes to the table, and then the two plopped into the last two empty seats.
"So what movie didja bring us, Wu-man?" Duo asked as he heaped bacon, eggs, and biscuits and gravy onto his plate in astonishing quantities.
"Romeo Must Die."
"Aw... another kung fu flick?" Duo griped.
"Sorry, Duo... Next time I'll make sure and bring in a Telletubbies tape for you. That should be more up your alley," Wufei replied smoothly as he filled his own plate.
Duo shuddered violently.
"Damn. Yer a closet sadist, aren't you."
"No," both Zechs and Wufei answered in unison.
Quatre and Duo both smothered chuckles as Wufei ducked his head to cover the sudden blush rising to his cheeks.
"God you two are so cute," Duo grinned.
"Bakayaro," Heero muttered under his breath.
Wufei almost choked on his brunch as he started to chuckle mid-bite.
"What? What?" Duo demanded.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Your food's getting cold," Wufei said innocently.
Duo frowned, glaring at everyone around the table.
"Fine. See if I ever invite you all out to party again."
"Now that really would be a tragedy," Zechs muttered.
"Yeah. Just think of all the lonely buckets," Quatre quipped.
Amazingly, they managed to get completely through their meal, and even the dishes, before they got their first call of the day. A call that turned out to be as uneventful as the rest of the morning had already been: just someone smoking under a detector in an office building.
After watching to make sure the building's alarm reset, they returned to the firehouse, whipped up a batch of extra buttery popcorn, and congregated in the living room in front of the TV to watch the movies Wufei had brought with him.
Trowa and Quatre curled up on one end of the couch together, unabashedly snuggling close. Wufei cast a questioning look towards Zechs when the older man settled on the other end of the couch. The Asian man's eyes darted towards Heero quickly, and then back towards Zechs, obviously in query. Zechs shrugged philosophically and patted the couch beside him. Wufei held his ground for a moment, considering, before finally joining the Captain on the couch and scooting close. Duo plopped himself into one of the comfy recliners and kicked back, setting one of the large bowls of popcorn within easy reach. Heero settled himself into the other recliner, his technical journals spread over his lap.
"Duh... you can't study during Sunday Movie Time. It's a Union By-law..." Duo sighed, eyeing Heero impatiently.
Heero sighed, considering heading out to the bay. This Sunday Movie Time was unproductive.
:Unless you consider its implications on group morale and team solidarity,: his brain butted in.
With a defeated sigh, he closed the journals and set them aside.
"Fine."
Duo grinned and hit the play button on the remote, palming a huge fistful of popcorn in the process.
:Besides... I don't want to miss our afternoon visit,: Heero thought to himself with an evil smirk.
Duo was crowing with laughter at the movie, when their quiet afternoon was shattered by the rumbling tones of music being played just outside the station on a very loud car stereo. Everyone, save Heero, jumped up from their comfortable sprawls and rushed outside.
Sitting in their parking lot was a black and white police cruiser. All of its doors were open, and its PA system was hooked up to the tape deck, which was cranked to full volume.
As the opening strains of the Macarena rolled over them, two uniformed police officers walked up to Duo with a plastic bucket.
"Duo Maxwell? On behalf of Jakes, we would like to present you with the annual Budweiser Bucket Cabaret Award. Congratulations," one officer deadpanned, while the other one handed him the bucket. They both took a step back and saluted him in unison.
Saluted Third Rock style, that is.
Then, without further ado, they turned, walked back to their cruiser, hopped in and drove away, waiting until they were a good block away before they turned off the music.
Duo stared down at the bucket in his hands, face turning an unflattering shade of brilliant beet red.
"YUY!"
All eyes turned towards the station, where the Japanese man was standing, leaning against the brick wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a self-satisfied smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth. Duo advanced on him brandishing the bucket dangerously. Heero simply pushed away from the building and started heading back indoors. He paused at the door and turned to spear Duo with a sadistic smirk.
"Now, Maxwell. Now we're even."
~TBC~
Notes
[1] Intubation Kit – Those tubes that docs and medics stick down peoples throats to help them breathe. It's called an Endotracheal Tube... or and Intubation Tube. Back
~RavynFyre~