The purpose of the shower had been to help Trowa over some of his painfully obvious nervousness and make things a little easier on him by getting him good and ready long before anything potentially daunting was asked of him. Quatre wasn’t sure how well it had worked, especially given that Trowa still definitely wasn’t taking any sort of initiative… but he did seem to be feeling a little less awkward.
Now Quatre, dripping onto the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, was frowning slightly as he looked around the room. “Towels?” he wondered.
In that blank tone indicating he’d been unexpectedly confronted by some aspect of the real world that he wasn’t ready for, Trowa echoed, “Towels…” and followed Quatre’s gaze around at the vacant rack on the wall and the small, equally empty cabinet under the sink that Quatre had just opened. He pulled himself together, though, and began to speak in the magical language.
Quatre made a little noise of surprise as a rush of hot air swept over him from nowhere and he suddenly found his body every bit as dry as if he had had a towel. And he couldn’t quite decide whether the sensation itself or the sound of Trowa’s voice casting the spell had turned him on more.
He reached out to pull Trowa closer to him, kissing him again and running his other hand up Trowa’s newly-dried skin into his damp hair. After a few moments he released him but for their clasped hands, and began to walk toward the door, smiling. Trowa allowed himself to be dragged out into the bedroom without protest, but Quatre thought his movements still indicated some serious nervousness. He had a strong urge to ask Trowa just one more time if he was sure he wanted to do this, but repressed it. He would simply have to trust him to volunteer any feelings of discomfort or any desire to stop.
The old bed creaked as Quatre scrambled backward onto it, and again as he pulled Trowa after him. At first Trowa was very stiff as Quatre kissed him from the seated position in which they’d come to rest, but Quatre’s hand on his equally-stiff erection melted him completely, and he lay back as Quatre pressed forward. Soon Quatre was half on top of him, straddling one leg, sucking on his neck and fingering the head of his penis while Trowa’s long hands clutched at Quatre’s sides and his breaths came short and hard.
Wrapping his hand fully around Trowa’s shaft, he began to stroke him slowly up and down, simultaneously grinding his own against Trowa’s hip, his faint moan mingling with Trowa’s slightly louder one. Trowa’s fingers pressed bruisingly into Quatre’s ribs, a sensation Quatre rather liked, and his slender body seemed entirely tense, as if ready for some great effort.
Quatre drifted farther down so that he was straddling Trowa’s knee and his mouth could explore the pale, almost translucent skin of Trowa’s chest. Along Quatre’s back and into his hair Trowa’s hands slipped as he moved, and clenched almost painfully when Quatre found a nipple and began teasing it with tongue and teeth. Determined to leave a mark, he began sucking hard, and at the same moment discontinued stroking Trowa’s erection in favor of exploring down over his balls and beyond.
Trowa gasped and stiffened even farther as Quatre’s finger drifted across and then pressed against his tight opening, but if Quatre had been afraid this was a negative or reluctant reaction, he didn’t have to worry long, as Trowa’s unoccupied leg moved almost immediately to widen the space, drawing up and giving Quatre better access in a tacit gesture of permission.
Releasing the area of skin he’d been deliberately bruising, Quatre lapped at the spot as he slowly, very slowly, worked his middle finger into Trowa up to the knuckle and then began gradually pulling it back out again. Trowa’s hands were tangling his hair, tightening against his scalp in almost trembling movements, and when Quatre finally withdrew and shifted back up to meet Trowa’s eyes, those hands pulled him down into a kiss with desperate insistence.
Before they’d gone to shower, Quatre had been careful to set his backpack down next to the bed where it could be easily reached, but even so he had to get off of Trowa entirely and move to the edge in order to get at what he needed. Trowa, who might not even have been clear on what Quatre was doing, dragged him into another hungry kiss the moment he returned. He kept his bright moon eyes fixed on Quatre as the latter sat up, adjusted, and lay back down.
Now, draped across Trowa’s stomach and chest, Quatre had both hands available to get the plastic bottle open. This was his favorite brand of lube: water-soluble, non-staining, a bit thicker than other types, and only very faintly scented. And the breathy groan Trowa made as Quatre’s slickened finger probed at him endeared it to him even more.
Probably curious about what Quatre was going to do in this new position, Trowa had propped himself up on his elbows, but now he went flat on his back again and clutched once more at Quatre’s side with groping hands. When Quatre’s entire pointer finger was inside him and beginning a slow, circular motion, Trowa choked out his name. Quatre paused. “No, don’t stop,” Trowa gasped. “Please don’t stop.”
The desire in the words made Quatre harder than ever, hot blood pounding through his erection as if driven by a hammer, and not to stop was what he wanted more than anything. In fact, going a little faster might even be nice.
Trowa was squirming and panting as Quatre added another finger and quickened the pace with which he pushed them in and drew them out. Quatre was trying not to imagine what it was going to feel like to be inside Trowa with more than just fingers, lest he go crazy wanting him before Trowa was ready; and yet the glowing, gorgeous imagining that would take place no matter how he tried to repress it was making him pant. But he kept himself under control, working at preparing Trowa as thoroughly as possible; knowing how Trowa was likely to feel about this after it was over, he wanted to make damn sure that he enjoyed it at the time.
And yet, the farther he reached into Trowa and the more he stretched him, the more desperate became the little cries that issued from Trowa’s throat and the tighter Trowa’s hands gripped. Quatre didn’t think he could help being somewhat disappointed if Trowa came before he was buried inside him, and this impelled him to remove his fingers entirely and sit up.
Trowa was watching him through slitted eyes, and his lips were trembling; the coloration of his face looked almost natural, which Quatre thought must be his version of a flush, and the faint glow Quatre had always observed about him seemed brighter now than ever before. As Quatre looked down at him, Trowa swallowed hard in the midst of the gasping breaths that made his chest heave, and gave a hesitant little smile. This was enough to drive Quatre right to the edge, and he was positioning himself between Trowa’s legs even before he started to ask, “Are you ready?”
Almost manically, Trowa nodded, and replied in an uneven whisper, “I think so.”
With hands that weren’t entirely steady Quatre ripped open the condom he’d brought and practically fumbled it on. Then, as he slathered a final helping of lubricant across its outer surface, he moaned helplessly. He wanted in there so badly, and raising his eyes to meet Trowa’s gaze — still clearly nervous, but trusting and anticipatory — did nothing but increase his need. But he must not do it too quickly; he had to do this right.
He took a deep breath and smoothed his hands out over Trowa’s thighs, pushing them to a better position and encouraging his whole lower body up into a better angle. Then he slid forward, spreading his own legs a little farther for better stability, and, supported on one hand on the bed beside Trowa’s chest, used his other to guide the head of his erection to the heat of Trowa’s anus. And, though it was an ongoing, shuddering battle against the aching urge to slam into that tight space, to make Trowa yell and writhe, to thrust into him as fast and hard as possible until he came, Quatre pushed in as slowly as he could bring himself to move.
Trowa’s entire body stiffened as he received Quatre inside him — except for his penis, which softened somewhat — and his hands found Quatre’s back once again and clawed in. Eyes squeezed tight shut, lips still trembling slightly, he let out a long wavering breath that eventually turned into a deep groan and then a series of staccato gasps. Quatre, his own body similarly stiff and trembling with the desire to move, let them settle into a position of readiness and then stilled. He bent and kissed Trowa’s sweating brow. “Does it hurt?” he asked.
After gulping another breath, Trowa tried to answer, but evidently coherent words wouldn’t come. Finally, his eyes dragging open to their previous slitted state and casting their glow upward onto Quatre’s face, he shook his head. Quatre, thinking he probably meant that it didn’t hurt more than he could handle, remained motionless for the moment.
And Trowa, with a long, shuddering breath, began slowly rotating his hips, testing the sensations of having Quatre inside him, and lightly clenching various internal muscles. Quatre, who really had not been expecting this of him, was taken by surprise and jerked forward in a hard thrust, gasping out as he did so, “Oh… Trowa…”
Trowa gave a surprised cry of his own as Quatre thrust into him, and his legs drew up so that his bare feet were curling against Quatre’s thighs. Quatre, who hadn’t meant to move despite how wonderful it had been, tried even harder now to keep still, though he knew it was only a matter of time before he wasn’t going to be able to anymore. Shifting back onto the one hand, he bent and kissed Trowa hard, and with his other hand reached down between them to try to tease Trowa fully erect again. He could feel Trowa’s errant moans through his own lips and tongue, and Trowa’s fingers were digging into his back harder than ever.
If Trowa was still feeling any significant discomfort, he gave no sign of it, and it didn’t prevent his penis hardening right up again under Quatre’s touch. And he was still moving, too, squirming as if this were more than he could bear, or perhaps as if he knew what it was doing to Quatre and genuinely wanted to drive him mad. Or possibly both. Whatever the case, Quatre was already beginning to draw out and press back in again almost without realizing he was doing it. At least he was still moving slowly.
With a long groan Trowa went even stiffer, every muscle in his body seemingly taut — including the ones that were currently surrounding the part of Quatre that was inside him. Quatre echoed his groan, and, putting both hands once again at Trowa’s sides, quickened his pace. He found a pattern that he liked, and Trowa’s continued movement that changed the angle slightly with every rhythmic thrust made it absolutely perfect.
There wasn’t much warning, but still Quatre wasn’t terribly surprised when Trowa came after not too long. Evidently Trowa was surprised, however, if the mesmerizing cry he gave or the captivating expression on his beautiful face was any indication. Quatre appreciated these indications of ecstasy, was conscious of the nails digging into his flesh and the burning heat between them, through a sort of erotic haze, for Trowa had tightened so much around him as he’d orgasmed that Quatre was seeing stars.
His earlier impulse, to pound into a writhing Trowa hard and fast until he was satisfied, was all of a sudden a reality. Trowa curled upward against him, gasping into Quatre’s neck and shoulder, clinging to him, twisting and panting and moaning, as Quatre moved at greater and greater speed. For a second time, in his abandon, Quatre whispered Trowa’s name as he felt himself drawing close to fulfillment.
And when Trowa replied by whispering Quatre’s name in return, with no hint of despair or guilt to the word — just simple pleasure and satisfaction at being here now sharing this with him — that was more than enough. Everything seemed simultaneously to tighten and expand as that lightening-shock of enjoyment hit him; he gave two last deep, forceful thrusts into Trowa as he came, groaning out his satisfaction as the wave of orgasm shuddered through his body, and then gradually stilled.
Slowly they both unclenched, relaxing down onto the bed and into each other’s arms in a hot haze of calming breaths. Trowa’s eyes were closed, but a little smile was on his parted lips, which Quatre kissed briefly before letting his own face fall to the blanket as his head sank down past a shoulder and his cheek came to rest against Trowa’s.
The scent of sweat and sex was in the air, and Trowa’s hands were slowly caressing his back, and he was already sinking into a warm, comfortable afterglow. Though fully aware that he might have to start thinking about damage control after not too long, Quatre was very pleased, for now, just to lie here and enjoy this moment.