Warnings: NC-17; LEMON; yaoi; 6x3
Disclaimer: I have no legal rights, only stock in perversion.
The front door of a sizable apartment opened hastily, the light from the
hallway spilling in as a tall man stepped into the room.
~ Ring. ~
A light switch was turned on, flooding the room immediately, lighting
the man's path. Keys were dropped onto a nearby table, a black blazer
draped haphazardly over the back of a chair.
~ Ring. ~
"Zechs. I thought I might have missed you. Did you just get in?"
The voice on the other end was slightly jumpy and staticky but unmistakable
to its receiver.
"Yes. Where are you?"
"On my way. Traffic."
"I picked up something."
A smile graced the man's lips, "Did you, now?"
"How long will you be?"
"Hmm . . . forty-five, an hour maybe. I think there's an accident
"You'll wait up?"
There were very few things that Trowa Barton truly found funny. But after
the brief conversation with Zechs, hanging up his cell phone and attempting
to concentrate on the road, he found himself very near to laughter.
The thing that struck him was the sudden realization of exactly how simple
his life had become in the past year, the year spent with Zechs.
Before Zechs, there was life. He was born, he would die, and life was
the disappointment in between. Someone had once told him that life was
a gift. A horribly wretched idea if you asked him.
Before Zechs there was an annoying job, loathsome chores, and a variety
of self depreciating hobbies. Before Zechs there was uncertainty, bitterness,
and an unrelenting streak of boredom. Before Zechs there was Heero and
Duo and Wufei, all with varying, yet unfulfilling degrees of affection.
Before Zechs . . . there was loneliness.
Trowa sighed contentedly, watching the fat rain droplets zig-zag down
the windshield of his unmoving car. He smiled. He hated traffic.
And now, after Zechs, there was only one thing he rushed home for, one
thing that made him smile, one thing that cleared away all the other shit
and showed him, for the first time, an out.
"Zechs," Trowa breathed the name heavily to himself. His groin
began to ache at the mere thought of his lover. The patterned sounds of
the rain and the darkness enveloping him, lulled him into sensation. The
seat-back he leaned against became a broad chest and he pushed against
it. An errant hand slipped from the wheel and onto his thigh but he stilled
it immediately. He thought of the beautiful creature awaiting him on the
other side of an ocean of cars. Anticipation could often be as enjoyable
as the act and he would not dull tonight for anything.
He moved to put his hand back on the wheel, but changed his mind at the
last second and laid it on the horn instead, pushing hard. The car screamed
loudly, just as he wanted to but dared not.
There were very few things that made Trowa Barton antsy . . .
Almost and hour later, the door to the apartment opened again, this time
permitting entrance to a tall but slighter man than the first. He, unlike
his lover, was not wearing a suit and tie. Instead, he wore jeans and
a sweater, their color darkened several shades from the rain. He dripped
soundlessly on the carpet.
He dropped his keys, their mail, and a slim, unadorned box onto an end-table
and almost called out to the apartment's other occupant. Then, as he looked
toward the sofa, he realized he didn't have to.
Zechs lay peacefully on the large sofa in the middle of the room. He was
still dressed from work, his tie only loosened and not removed, falling
off to the side of his chest. One shoe was gone completely, the other,
dangled precariously from his toes, as if he'd been in the process of
toeing it off when sleep had claimed him. One arm rested on his chest,
the other was slung above his head where his hair fell over the arm of
the couch, grazing the floor. His face was peaceful, his breathing even,
and his mouth was open just slightly.
Trowa dripped silently.
Even in such a vulnerable position, the man he loved was still beyond
sexy. He let his eyes roam over the impossibly long figure, lean and chiseled
in all the right places. His suit hid most of his virtues but one with
a trained eye could pick out each and every sensuous angle and curve.
And then there were a few that only those with a very intimately trained
eye knew the significance of.
With that in mind, Trowa formed a most wicked plan.
"Ohhhh, Dr. Zechs!"
Trowa stood several feet in front of him, his nurse's uniform smaller
and tighter than any he'd ever seen. He turned his back to the dashing
young doctor, craning his neck so as to peer at him over his shoulder.
He bent slowly as he spoke.
"I'm behind on my vaccinations, Dr. Zechs." The tiny skirt he
wore was no cover for the upturned ass, and Zechs became privy to the
knowledge that his favorite nurse did not favor undergarments.
"Could you give me an injection, Dr. Zechs?" The question was
punctuated by a tiny slap to a soft pink cheek and Zechs's cock jumped
at the sound. "Pleeeeaassee . . ."
Zechs grunted in response, moving swiftly toward the creature of fantasy
and lust, led more by his cock than his feet.
The flushed face beckoned him again and he grew harder as he watched cherry
lips open wide, saying his name, green eyes closing in ecstasy as if he
were already inside that wanton vehicle of fulfillment.
And then, inches away, something stopped him. He felt a heavy force pushing
against him, forcing air from his lungs. He struggled against it, desire
fueling his attempts.
Nurse Trowa turned to him, startled, concern painting his pretty face.
"Dr. Zechs . . .?"
Zechs grasped at the tenuous air around him, fingernails clawing at nothing,
making every attempt to stay.
And then he opened his eyes.
The world around him was real, not the skewed realm of his fantasies.
And most importantly, the man straddling his stomach, the thing that had
woken him and was causing him to breathe a bit shallow, was very real.
He blinked at sparkling green eyes.
"You're awake." Trowa said as if surprised, and as is he--kneeling
over the other man's stomach, one knee at each side, his ass grazing a
hardening erection--had nothing to do with it.
It took Zechs a moment to fully take in the situation.
"You're home," he said with a yawn and a stretch and Trowa smiled
when he heard the man's other shoe fall off and hit the floor, "what
time is it?"
Zechs grimaced, "Sorry for not waiting up, I--" he paused, and
gave an adorable look of faint surprise, ". . . you're not wearing
Trowa just smiled. Indeed, he was quite nude, had been for some time.
He'd stripped himself of his wet clothes and had walked around the apartment,
picking at his dinner, appreciating his lover from different angles and
practicing his own self control. He had been enjoying the sweet delay
for such a long time that his hair was nearly dry.
Zechs basked in the warmth of that most wicked of grins and moved his
hands to rest on Trowa's toned thighs. He let his eyes dance over the
planes of the other man, appreciating every inch just as he had been unknowingly
"It's staring at me," he growled, meeting the gaze of Trowa's
penis lying flat against his chest. "It doesn't look very happy to
Trowa smiled again, "We've been working on our self control. Gotten
good don't you think?"
"Too good." Zechs replied.
"Can't say the same for you," Trowa teased, rocking back on
his knees and rubbing his ass against Zechs's ever-hardening bulk.
"And I hope you never will," Zechs shifted as he spoke, lifting
his hips a bit to greet that teasing touch. When he stilled, he turned
his attention back to his dilemma.
"What's this?" He asked, fingering the hem of the silky material
tied around Trowa's shaft. It was white with big red polka dots and fashioned
into a bow. He couldn't help but run a taunting finger down the other
man's length as he asked the question. There was no response except a
flicker across his face and a little nibble at his lower lip. And Zechs
didn't miss the moment of hesitation in his response.
"It's for you. To replace the one we tore a few weeks ago,"
his words were only slightly breathy.
Zechs smiled, "The one we tore was solid black, not. . ." he
tugged on the article, watching for a greater reaction but was rewarded
only with one similar to the last, ". . . polka dotted."
Trowa shrugged, "I like it."
"I think it's sexy."
"I love it."
With that, Zechs lifted himself up, crushing his lips against the other
man's and gathering him to him. The kiss was familiar and loving, yet
none the less intense. Zechs mentally cursed the fabric barrier between
himself and his love and after a long breathless moment he pulled away
to remove it.
"Wait." Trowa stopped him before he reached the second button.
Zechs's fingers stilled as he waited for Trowa's reasoning.
Trowa didn't speak but gently pushed Zechs back down onto the couch, slapping
Zechs's fingers away any time they came too near.
Silently, he rose from Zechs's lap, the polka dotted handkerchief still
tied around his flaccid member, and began the process of divesting Zechs
of his clothing.
He undid his shirt buttons and spread it open, careful not to touch Zechs
directly, and to not remove it entirely. The tie still hung loosely about
his neck. And then he moved to his pants, unzipping the fly and tugging
a little at the waist. He pulled them down but not off, leaving Zechs
still trapped just beneath a layer of cloth.
Zechs watched with no little irritation. He loved Trowa, there was no
question. He also wanted to fuck Trowa senseless, certainly no question.
But this--this slow, detached display, it was unnerving and so unlike
"Shhh," was Trowa's only answer as he slung a lanky leg back
over the other man's lap. He sat down carefully, making sure that Zechs
could distinguish between the different textures and warmths as his sat
his naked flesh on him, his balls, his cock, his ass. He could feel Zechs
tremble beneath him.
Trowa reached behind him and rummaged through the opening at Zechs's pants.
When Zechs felt that velvety body atop him again, he was renewed with
excitement. He wasn't sure who Trowa was trying to torture, himself or
Zechs, but he knew that for his part at least, he was doing quite a good
job. And then Trowa's fingers wrapped around his aching erection and pulled
him free from his trousers.
Zechs gasped as he felt those bony fingers on him and Trowa fondled his
length, running his fingers along the underside, gently rubbing his testicles
from time to time. All of this served to make Zechs doubly hard and he
panted ruggedly. Trowa watched, face calm.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Zechs felt Trowa move again, and then
those deft fingers were gone. His eyes shot open.
Trowa was there, leaning in to kiss him even as his hands were busy elsewhere.
Zechs knew they weren't on him and had a good guess as to what they were
doing. Moments later, he heard something small hit the floor, and Trowa's
hands were back on his erection, this time they were slick and swift.
He moaned into the other man's mouth.
Trowa smiled. He leaned up out of Zechs's reach and lifted himself from
his seated position. During this, he had not stilled his hands and now
he gripped the turgid organ, squeezing a little and making Zechs moan.
Then, without preamble, Trowa sunk himself onto Zechs's steely shaft and
the larger man cried out hoarsely.
Zechs was swimmimg in his own mind. He hadn't expected Trowa to be so
eager, certainly hadn't expected him to control the moment, and the sudden
tight heat that sheathed him was already moving in a half rhythm. He fought
to control his excitement.
Trowa was bobbing up and down now, leaning forward a little and pushing
off of his knees. Zechs's length filled him incredibly well, just as it
always did. And every stroke, no matter how much he tried to avoid it,
hit that most precious of sweet spots. It was taking all of his concentration
not to succumb to ecstasy. He would not give this time. He would not be
the first to collapse. He always was and always felt as if he'd let his
lover down somehow. That was why he'd been so intent on his self-conrol.
But tonight--he clenched his muscles a bit and quickened his pace, smiling
at the noises he was drawing from the bigger man--tonight he would win.
Zechs felt the other man tighten above him, felt him quicken his pace.
He opened his eyes to look at Trowa's face and found a most disturbing
thing. He wanted--no, expected to see Trowa's usually placid face awash
in crazed ecstasy, eyes closed and mouth open in ragged, panting breaths,
just as it always was when he was being thoroughly fucked.
Instead, Trowa moved above him, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed tightly in
what looked to Zechs to be -- concentration? He looked at his partner's
cock, still wrapped in the silk handkerchief and only half hard. Suddenly,
their lovemaking became a lot less enjoyable.
Trowa was still fighting hard against his body's natural instincts when
he felt strong hands grasp his sides and lift him fully into the air,
causing Zechs to slip out of him. He opened his eyes quickly.
"What's wrong?" he asked as he moved from Zechs's grasp to stand
on his own feet.
Zechs stood as well, forcing his painfully hard erection back into his
pants so as not to look ridiculous when he spoke, "You."
Trowa looked hurt, "What--why?"
The couple stood less than a foot apart, one looking up, one looking down,
as Zechs was fully a head taller.
"What are you trying to prove, Trowa?" Zechs's voice was soft
and his touch softer as he reached a hand to a burning cheek.
"I'm not trying to prove anything, I--I just thought it would be
better for you if I . . .if I lasted longer." Somehow the words sounded
absurd when he said them outloud. In his mind they'd made perfect sense.
But obviously, Zechs hadn't liked the idea. He wasn't sure why but the
look of disappointment on his lover's face made it more than obvious.
Zechs watched as Trowa apologized, averting his eyes from Zechs's. 'He
was trying to please me,' he thought to himself, 'doesn't he know he does
that every moment I'm with him?' Indeed, Zechs's heart grew lighter every
time Trowa entered a room, entered their home, spoke his name. There was
rarely a time when Trowa was around that Zechs was not pleased. He thought
of Trowa's apology again and swung the other man's chin to face him.
"You'd better be," he growled. Trowa's face was one of a little
alarm as Zechs grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him down. His knees
buckled and seconds later he found himself splayed atop their coffee table,
legs spread vulnerably.
"You see, Trowa," Zechs began his speech from his perch on the
floor between Trowa's knees, "this is a mutual situation." He
crawled atop Trowa, hovering largely over the slighter, much more nude
body. Trowa shivered at the husky rasp in his voice and the feel of silky,
golden locks whispering over his bare skin.
"I fuck you . . .," Zechs purred against Trowa's lips, running
a hand down his side, " . . .you get fucked . . ." his hand
continued it's descent, playing now at Trowa's inner thigh, " . .
. and we all come happily ever after."
Trowa was still fighting the inevitable, though every touch from the other
man made it more and more difficult.
Zechs's hand moved again, taking hold of the handkerchief and tugging
the knot out of it. Trowa bit back a moan as the material slipped easily
away and Zechs threw it to the side.
"And you will come, Trowa," his voice was commanding,
as was his hand and Trowa's restraint finally broke. He quickly became
fully hard in the man's grip at Zechs's last words, "I will make
Having nothing more to say at the moment, Zechs put his mouth to better
use, licking and kissing down Trowa's throat, running his tongue over
pink nipples, delving into a navel.
Trowa felt the travel of Zechs mouth on him. It seemed as if Zechs were
everywhere at once, all tongue and lips and hair. God he loved that hair.
He ran his palms though it now, grabbing handfuls and tugging, pushing,
massaging. Zechs was an exquisite lover, what had he been thinking when
he'd thought to delay this?! He hadn't. He decided he could only think
clearly with Zechs's mouth on him. And ohhhh . . . it was!
Zechs swallowed Trowa to the hilt, accepting his lover deep into his throat.
He heard the other man cry out and laughed wickedly around his treat,
hoping for the same response as he sucked eagerly. He was not disappointed.
Trowa moaned again, over and over, in fact, pushing his hips upward until
they met resistance against commanding hands that held him to the table.
'Fine,' he thought to the man wrapped around his cock, 'have it your way,'
and he tightened his grip on Zechs's head and began pushing him harder
onto him. It was a move he regretted a moment later when Zechs pulled
"Suddenly so eager to have our finish are we?" Zechs teased
as he licked his lips and crawled back atop the other man. "Remember,"
he said, kissing Trowa's bottom lip, "this is a mutual arrangement."
Trowa saw the gleam in Zechs's eye and so he was prepared when Zechs caught
him around the middle and tumbled with him off of the table, onto the
floor. Zechs immediately began stripping himself from his last vestiges
of clothing. Trowa helped eagerly.
Moments later, Zechs was as naked as his lover, save for the tie that
Trowa had asked him to leave on, and the lubricant he'd spread liberally
over his thick cock.
Trowa knelt before him, ass upturned and peering over his shoulder. Zechs
only hoped he wouldn't call him 'Dr. Zechs,' lest he lose all control
and hurt the slightly smaller man.
"What was my part in this arrangement again?" Trowa asked, pushing
backward, nudging his tight cleft against the tip of Zechs's cock.
Zechs smiled, "You, my sweet . . ." he gripped slim hips tightly
and positioned himself for entrance, " . . . get fucked." With
those last word he thrust into Trowa, the penetration all the more delicious
than it had been earlier, simply for knowing that Trowa was not holding
And he definitely was not.
Trowa moaned at Zechs's first entrance, reveling in his lack of inhibitions.
He'd decided for certain that he had been insane earlier and that there
were perhaps two occasions on which he could think clearly: in Zechs's
mouth; and with Zechs inside him. And certainly, if pleasure were thoughts,
then he was having an epiphany.
"OH GOD!" Trowa screamed, slamming himself backward against
his lover as Zechs worked up a frantic and crashing rhythm. The glowing
heat of the friction inside him was overtaking his entire body. Just as
Zechs had been all tongue earlier, he was now all cock. Zechs's hair floated
around him, jerking with his lover's thrusts, and the tie grazed over
his back to match the rhythm.
They continued like this for what seemed like an all too short eternity.
Zechs grunted with each snap of his hips, shouting out every now and then,
the intensity inside him building. Trowa's body was siphoning his reserves,
beckoning release. He reached around Trowa, grasping his neglected erection,
and somehow deepened his thrusts.
The double assault threw Trowa for a loop and he fought to hold out just
a bit longer. Zechs was pounding him hard now, pushing him forward into
his hand. Zechs fucked him, he fucked Zechs's hand, it was all quite splendid.
And then it happened, Zechs gave a sudden shout, filling his lover with
his seed. The shock of it sent Trowa into his own orgasm, spilling his
essence over Zechs's hand and the carpet below.
He heard Zechs moan again with the last tremors of his release. And as
the other man withdrew and collapsed beside him, he let out a breath he
hadn't realized he'd been holding.
The sated couple lazed sleepily on the floor, blanketed only by each other's
flesh and a substantial amount of blond hair. Trowa fondled a few strands,
smiling broadly even as he yawned.
"You're gloating aren't you?" Zechs asked him.
"Maybe," Trowa answered. It was the first time he'd managed
to outlast Zechs, even if it was only by a fraction of a fraction of a
second. He felt it was a reason to be somewhat proud.
"Well," Zechs continued good-naturedly, kissing Trowa's brow,
"gloat away, my beauty. You were triumphant."
Trowa thought for a moment. 'Speaking of triumphs . . .'
"Did you like your gift?"
"Mmmm, the 'kerchief? Well, I didn't at first but I think it's growing
"Will you wear it to work."
"Yes, tomorrow in fact." Zechs smiled, "Though it may be
hard to concentrate--remembering where it's been."
Trowa returned the smile, "You mean you'll be hard, remembering
where you've been."
Zechs laughed a little and pulled his lover closer to him, "Quite
true, my lovely. Quite true."
[back to the Reverand's fic]