Story Notes:Originally published in 2001. Lyrics from "Sex Me, Talk Me" by Berlin.
Back against the darkest wall
knowing that it dare not fall
the mannequin is real...
Quatre thought he was a statue at first. He was absolutely still, sitting with his back against a wall, shadowed in the darkness of the mobile suit hangar. Quatre paused a few yards away before gently saying,
“Trowa Barton, right?”
The figure turned slowly to gaze at Quatre. He was remarkable looking. His face wore the same expression as when he had first surrendered to Quatre on the battlefield. His dark brown hair fell carelessly over one emerald eye, glinting, even in the darkness.
“Yeah,” Trowa replied lifelessly. Quatre smiled and extended his hand enthusiastically.
“I’m Quatre Raberba Winner! I don’t believe we’ve had a formal introduction.”
Trowa gazed at Quatre’s hand oddly for a moment, before taking it in a gentle clasp and murmuring,
The hair across his empty eye
says careful mystery is mine
Hide and seek if you desire...
Trowa released his hand and turned back around, gazing up at the Heavyarms with dull, empty eyes. Quatre fidgeted anxiously. He wanted to become friends with this boy. He found him terribly fascinating and even a bit dashing and courageous. In any case, he was a gundam pilot like Quatre, and obviously their meeting was no coincidence.
“Um...” began Quatre. “I don’t think I’ve said hello yet. So...hello.”
You’re rambling. Don’t talk so much; you might scare him.
“Are...why are you sitting out here all alone?”
“No place to go,” came the monotone reply.†
“Well...” Quatre said nervously. “Why don’t you...uh...come stay with me for a while? Um! That is-! Since you’ve got no place else to go...”
I started with hello
By chance are you alone?
Silence turned my eyes onto my feet
Sorry to disturb
Losing all my nerve...
“Have...have I offended you, Trowa?”
Still no reply. Quatre looked down at the floor, broken hearted at the boy’s callousness. He apparently wasn’t in the mood to talk.
“I’m sorry,” Quatre said softly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. Goodnight, friend Trowa.”
As Quatre turned to leave, he felt something grasp his arm and he was turned around. It was Trowa, face inches from his. Quatre felt his heart suddenly leap into his throat at their sudden closeness, and a grin twitched at the corners of Trowa’s lips.
As I walked away he grabbed my arm
turned me around and said
“T-Trowa...?” Quatre stammered.
“Shh,” he admonished, and his grin grew wider. Quatre’s heart pounded. “You want to be my friend?”
Quatre, wide eyed, closed his lips and nodded seriously.
“Try this, then,” Trowa whispered, leaning forward and running his tongue across Quatre’s lips. The blond boy shuddered and his face went red. He pulled away in shock, fear and humiliation.
“Wh-why-!” he sputtered. “Why did you do that?”
“I want you to be my friend. I want to be your friend. I want...” he trailed off and pushed Quatre against the wall. Quatre gasped as he felt the cold metal pressed onto his back, and he looked fearfully into Trowa’s solitary green eye.
“...you,” he finished. And he lowered his face to Quatre’s neck and bit down gently, at the same time sucking hard on his flesh. Quatre closed his eyes tight and squealed.
Sex me, talk me...
“Trowa, don’t!” he cried. “Friends don’t do this to each other-”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t be friends,” Trowa replied mechanically, grasping Quatre’s thigh and hiking his leg up. Quatre didn’t know what to do. He hardly knew this boy-why! they had just met yesterday!- and here he was, seducing Quatre like...like...
The thought occurred to Quatre that no one had ever tried to seduce him, and even though he was always told it was wrong for people of the same sex to seduce each other, he found Trowa’s touches and caresses painfully arousing. Quatre flailed about helplessly, ashamed of his attraction to one of the same sex and tried to stop enjoying it. But Trowa was strong. He would not let go.
He skillfully unbuttoned Quatre’s pale pink shirt and went directly to his nipples. He licked them first before taking the protrusions of warm flesh in his teeth and nibbling gently.
“Oh!” Quatre cried, and threw his head back against the wall. He was gasping for breath now as Trowa nibbled harder, sometimes biting roughly. Quatre screamed shrilly as Trowa crossed deftly over his threshold of pain, and it echoed all throughout the hangar.
Sex me, talk me...
“Trowa...! Are you listening?! STOP!”
Trowa obediently let go and took a step backward, leaving Quatre pressed against the wall and looking rather disheveled. Quatre sighed, closed his eyes, and slid down to the floor where he fought to catch his breath. Trowa, concerned, knelt down to him.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Quatre snapped his head upright, tears flying in sparkling droplets from his eyes, and slapped Trowa across the face.
“WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO ME!?” he screamed, palm stinging from the force of the blow.
Trowa rubbed his cheek tenderly and stared.
“Why did I do what? Kiss you?”
Trowa blinked. “I was defeated by you. I surrendered to you. You own me. I’m just reminding you that...I’m yours now.”
Quatre was shocked. He could not believe what he was hearing. He was rendered speechless. Trowa’s eyes wandered all over Quatre’s person, resting finally on his flushed face.
“Did you like it?” he asked. Quatre’s eyes grew wide, and he hoped Trowa wouldn’t see how aroused the short seduction had made him. His heart began to pound again, and Trowa leaned forward slowly and kissed him. Quatre’s first kiss. And it was a boy, too.†
Trowa gave him plenty of time to slap him away, but the slap never came. Quatre found the depth of Trowa’s kiss too overpowering, and a strange desire, the likes of which he had never experienced, took root in his chest and began to grow. It was the flower of lust, love and sex, and the seed had been planted when he first laid eyes on the Heavyarms pilot.
We sat down again
his eyes took me in
was I having a good time?
Trowa broke this kiss and smiled at Quatre, who suddenly couldn’t remember where he was or what colony he was from.
“What...?” he breathed in a trembling voice. “I-I don’t think I understand-”
Trowa’s soft fingertips rested on Quatre’s lips suddenly.
“Stop,” he whispered. “Don’t say anymore.”
I said hey Mr Man
I don’t understand
A finger on my lips said stop
A hint is left but never dropped
So Quatre didn’t.
Trowa pulled him down on the floor and crawled on top of him. He eagerly began to kiss every exposed inch of Quatre’s body, to which he responded by growing short of breath and muttering to Allah unintelligibly. Trowa sat up and quickly peeled off his shirt, and threw it aside.
He means to fuck you, Quatre, his rational mind told him. What are you going to do about it?
I’m going to let him. This feels too good...I can’t stop. I don’t want to.
Quatre wrapped his arms around Trowa’s neck and pulled him down for more. He felt Trowa’s hands brush his stomach, and the tug on the top of his pants. He was unbuttoning them... unzipping them...
Quatre thrust his hips up slightly, and Trowa paused, staring into his blue eyes.
“You really want this, don’t you?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes,” Quatre breathed heavily. “I...I need...give it to me.”
His demands made Trowa shiver with delight, and he kissed his forehead and ran a hand through Quatre’s golden hair. It felt divine.
Sex me, talk me...
Quatre slipped his shoes off and wormed out of his shirt. Trowa pressed his hips against Quatre’s, and the smaller boy gasped at what he felt beneath the denim. He slipped his arms between their bodies and struggled to undo Trowa’s jeans, finally succeeding after what seemed like eternity.
Trowa’s swollen body part fell free from the constricting clothing, and he sighed in relief. It was becoming rather painful in there. He glanced down at Quatre, staring up at him with large eyes.
“Finish it,” he pleaded softly. A slight frown came to Trowa’s face.
“But...we don’t have any type of lubricant. It will hurt like-”
Quatre reached up and grabbed a handful of Trowa’s hair, pulling him down, face to face.
“If what you said is the truth, the standards by which you accepted defeat, then I do own you now. Pain or no pain, I command you-” he pulled, and tears of pain squeezed from Trowa’s eyes. “- fuck me till I’m raw.”
He released his grip on Trowa, who was shocked by the petite blonde’s sudden power over him. It made him all the more willing to oblige. He was only happy to.
Trowa obediently pulled Quatre’s pants down to his ankles, where Quatre then kicked them off and they landed in a heap on the floor. Quatre was dying for more of this lusty affection, and grabbed Trowa’s shoulders, bringing him down in a kiss. During the course of this, Quatre lost his vest and shirt and Trowa’s pants met the same fate as Quatre’s. Now there was no stopping the wanton indulgence of the flesh.†
They tore into each other’s bodies passionately, yet curiously. Trowa was gentle, seeing as this was obviously Quatre’s first time, allowing the little Arabian prince to be rough and unlearned in the fine art of love. He would learn in time, Trowa knew. He would make an excellent student. When Trowa had surrendered to Quatre on the battlefield, he surrendered his heart, body and soul when he saw the tiny blonde first appear from the depths of his Gundam. As soon as he saw him, he felt his heart be pierced and swell with the recognition of one’s soul mate. He didn’t care that Quatre was a boy like him; here was someone he knew would love him, treat him right, not abuse him. Here was somebody who would care when he went off into battle. Here was someone he could grow old with, spend the rest of his life with. Here was somebody who would cry when he was gone, but he never had the heart to say it to his face. How would one go about saying you are the love of my life to someone you met yesterday? One couldn’t, not without the other taking them for a madman. This was the only way he knew how. Break them and take them. It was the the only way. In his lonely and miserable life, secluded from love and left without care, this was the only way he knew how.
“Oh-! Oh God, Trowa!” Quatre cried, sweating profusely as he felt Trowa enter his body, filling him absolutely and completely. His nails bit into Trowa’s shoulders and he thrust his hips upward.
“Hurt me!” he whimpered. “Hurt me more!”
Sex me, talk me...
Trowa gave Quatre what he wanted and more. He gave it sweetly, softly, tenderly. Quatre felt his fragile mind shatter into a million pieces as a hot, intense passion filled him. Trowa grimaced when Quatre pierced his ears with a scream that rattled the metal doors in the hangar. The same scream that managed to send Trowa plummeting over the edge of ugly reality and into the blissful waves of utopia.
The wake left the two lovers panting and gasping in the large, empty hangar that once was filled with their screams of ecstasy, now silent and dark.
Trowa laid his head on Quatre’s chest and fought to catch his breath. There was nothing on earth or in the heavens that could even begin to compare with what he had felt. It was the best, the greatest, the....the...there is no word for it. Even a word as powerful as ‘love’ could not even touch this. This was...heaven.
Trowa looked up and saw tears running down Quatre’s rosy pink cheeks.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
Quatre shook his head and let out a sob.
“I-I would ask Allah to forgive me,” he wept. “But to do so you must first feel regret for your actions....and I don’t-!”
With those words, he wrapped his arms around Trowa’s neck and hugged him fiercely. Trowa felt his eyes mist over, and he knew then, for no one, be it man or God or Satan or Hell had ever been able to make him shed a single tear. The tear...which ran down his cheek and dripped silently onto the floor.
†Driving home in silent car
They pulled up into the driveway, and Quatre woke up slowly.
“Where’re we?” he slurred. “Am I home?”
Trowa nodded and put the car in park, not shutting off the engine. Quatre undid his seatbelt, and looked at Trowa with a wistful gaze.
“Would you like to come inside?” he asked softly.
Trowa turned his head and stared at the large mansion before him, and wondered if he had been right, if his judgment had not taken a dive somewhere along the way.
At my place the engine ran
Would you like to come inside?
He turned back to Quatre with a smile and shook his head.
“No thanks,” he replied. “Maybe another time.”
Quatre could not hide his disappointment.
“Oh,” he breathed. “I see.”
He flashed that smile
No thanks maybe another time...
He looked up pathetically at Trowa, with his crystal blue eyes filling with tears. Trowa gulped and gripped the steering wheel.
“I love you,” he said.†
Quatre looked shocked. To seal his promise, Trowa leaned forward and gave Quatre a tender kiss on the cheek. As he pulled away, he saw Quatre smile.
†“I love you, too.”
Does he really?
†He grabbed Trowa’s face in both hands and kissed him deeply, tongue slipping into his mouth and interlacing with Trowa’s. Quatre pulled away, grinning wider than he had before.
†He really loves me.
He opened the car door and stepped out.
Quatre turned and smiled one last time before closing the door and walking through the front gate. Trowa slowly backed out of the drive and onto the open road. He drove slowly through the night, turning over in his mind the sweetness and kindness that Quatre had shown to him in five minutes as compared with the rest of his life...and he cried. They were not sad tears, or anguished tears, or even tears from pain. They were the only good tears known, the only ones that can be cried when one is wearing a smile.
And as he pulled away he cried