Sea Change for lil_1337
Title: Sea Change
Recipient: lil_1337
Rating: R, to be safe
Warnings: Some sexual content
Summary: "It's funny," Quatre said that morning at breakfast. "How everything changes."
Author’s Note: 3x4, Trowa/Quatre. I haven't written for this fandom in quite a while, so I hope you like, dear mystery recipient.
Author: end1essly
"It's funny," Quatre said that morning at breakfast. "How everything changes."
His hand is on my thigh, drawing the slowest and smoothest of circles, and yet Quatre Winner can butter and eat his toast with the calmest, most innocent expression, the bread disappearing bite by bite and without a trace of butter remaining on his lips. Quatre is a marvel I find myself admiring, while I pretend to eat my oatmeal and shake the surreal realization that all five pilots are in one room, sharing the same air.
"Things have the tendency to do that," Duo smirked, shoveling a forkful of egg substitute in his mouth. "Liff wuu b suh brrrring ff t watt."
"Always so charming, Maxwell," Wufei scoffed. "Didn't they teach you on L2 to not speak when your mouth is full, or is that yet another social skill you failed to grasp?"
It's a well-practiced song and dance commenced over what seems like centuries, but can be realistically measured as a little over five years, and mostly commenced via Mobile Suit microphone - Duo and Wufei Death Match, Round 873.
"You should talk, baka," Duo replied, having successfully swallowed his third helping of eggs and creating another mountain on his sorely-abused plate. "Can you carry on a conversation without insulting the other person?"
"It is entirely not my fault that everyone I speak to is of pitiful intelligence."
"That is exactly what I'm talking about."
I catch Heero's eye from across the table, and he's almost - nearly, somewhat, possibly - smiling, or at least as much as one can over two laptops and a conference call and possessing the brilliantly strange mind of Heero Yuy.
"You're still jealous of my scythe, man. Admit it." Duo smirked, crossing his arms against his chest.
"Nataku had sufficient firepower to take on any possible enemy force, so there's really no point to this conversation." Wufei scoffed, annoyed.
"Aha!" Duo's voice was triumphant. "You didn't deny it, so clearly I'm correct."
Quatre let out the softest, most polite sigh of disappointment, and I couldn't help but smile, only the slightest curling of my lips. If Quatre is anything, he embodies courtesy to the core, stripping the layers and veneer to find someone who desperately cares.
Some might find it penance; a balm to the sore he created and cannot ever corrected, but they weren't there on a hot summer day, of gunfire and gleaming metal, two teenage boys revealing themselves in the epitome of vulnerability.
Those men, those unknown faces, have never seen Quatre smile.
If they had, then they would have realized that these moments of normalcy, of listening to Wufei and Duo battle about the most stupid of things - they are precious. They would know that WEI's collaboration with the Preventers is an opportunity torn from dreams and handed to me so delicately. They would see the way he looks, I look, making the best of the short time that we have together in this sweltering summer.
They could see, if they bothered to look.
"You're an idiot," Wufei concluded, hiding his face in his rice, realizing that such petty insults would only incense Duo's pleasure.
"Your idiot," Duo grinned happily, flinging a chunk of egg and splattering Wufei in the face. "Score."
"Duo!" Wufei bellowed, wiping the yellow debris off his nose and stomping to the other side of the table. "I swear, you can't act your age for one damn second…" The two began to squabble, Quatre and myself looking from Duo to Wufei and back again as the argument intensified.
Heero sighed, closing one of the laptops before rising to his feet and slanting a look in my direction. "Heading to my room; I can't get a damn thing done with you two yelling. Want to keep me company, Maxwell?"
A heated Duo was a distracted one, mouth producing snappy retort after snappy retort, so Heero leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to the skin of his round cheek. He held up a hand in farewell, nodding to the two of us as he easily heaved the two laptops into his arms and up the stairs.
Duo's reaction was relayed, the light pink flush radiating from high on his cheekbones to the fullness of each cheek, halting his argument with Duo by holding up a hand. "Did… did Heero just kiss me?"
"You two are dating," Quatre commented, popping an orange slice in his mouth. "Isn't that normal?"
"Well, uh, yeah, but not when people… are around."
My face must not have been particularly nice, because Quatre narrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head in my direction. Wufei seemed equally amused, snorting into his wheat flakes.
"That's a good development, then," Quatre replied with a smile, nudging Duo's elbow with his own. "Enjoy it."
Duo scratched the back of his head, lips twisted in embarrassment. "Thanks, Cat. I'm not sure what to think." His eyes were soft, but the temptation of Wufei was sitting only a few feet away. "So, Wufei, as you were saying?"
"You aren't worth it," Wufei replied smoothly, taking another bite of cereal.
"Oh, come on," Duo scoffed. "You've been baiting me all day, and that's how we're ending it?"
Quatre leans into my shoulder, the shape of his smile pressing through the fabric. "After the conference, let's spend some time together?"
I kiss his hair, the scent of pine flowing from him into me. "I'd like that."
Quatre's kicking.
His fingers curl into the sheets underneath his body, knuckles so pale, pale against crisp white. I move down again, focusing on the slickness and heat filling my mouth, gently pushing down on Quatre's hips to keep him centered, positioned to where I can pleasure him. Through my eyelashes, I gaze at Quatre's face, twisted in pleasure and dominated by light, hitched gasps, blond hair a mess across his forehead. The time since the war and the Gundams have wittled the five of us into men, hardened, yet softened by the fray. Quatre is no longer the baby-faced, petite boy that failed to garner attention outside of his famous surname, but a young man. Taller, leaner, stronger, with a shrewdness behind those blue eyes that only five years in the business sector can create, Quatre is even more beautiful.
He's the only thing I've ever wanted for myself.
"More," he moans, the slickness of sweat drawing lines of light on his abdominals. His body is shaking, reacting violently to my every move, and I swallow in the sight just as I swallow him down, this little piece of goodness in my broken, rotten core.
There were words that should have been exchanged long ago, but it's a thing I cannot bring himself to do. Quatre knows how I feel; I'm sure of it, but his confession upon Peacemillion is something I cannot replicate.
I love you, Trowa.
I love you, I love you.
They called me silent - No Name, No One. But I have different names now - Trowa; Preventer; Bodyguard; The One Who Loves Quatre; There are some things that cannot be taken away, and so I hold Quatre down, I show him in the language that I speak.
Quatre's hand darts out and clutches my own, the fingers lacing and suddenly he is stronger, sitting up and pulling our mouths closer, together. If he minds the taste of himself he fails to comment, lips sliding and sucking and biting as he tells me
"I love you, Trowa."
"I'm so glad you're here."
"You were made for me."
And they fall out. I try to catch them in their frightful speed, but words have no owners once released, and Quatre stops and looks at me like he's never laid eyes on my half of a face, like he's being reborn.
"Oh Trowa," Quatre says, smiling, tracing my jaw with his thumb. "Thank you for being you."
The smile that comes to my face is warmer now, because I smile for Quatre, and Quatre alone.
It's funny, how everything changes. Except for Quatre.
Recipient: lil_1337
Rating: R, to be safe
Warnings: Some sexual content
Summary: "It's funny," Quatre said that morning at breakfast. "How everything changes."
Author’s Note: 3x4, Trowa/Quatre. I haven't written for this fandom in quite a while, so I hope you like, dear mystery recipient.
Author: end1essly
"It's funny," Quatre said that morning at breakfast. "How everything changes."
His hand is on my thigh, drawing the slowest and smoothest of circles, and yet Quatre Winner can butter and eat his toast with the calmest, most innocent expression, the bread disappearing bite by bite and without a trace of butter remaining on his lips. Quatre is a marvel I find myself admiring, while I pretend to eat my oatmeal and shake the surreal realization that all five pilots are in one room, sharing the same air.
"Things have the tendency to do that," Duo smirked, shoveling a forkful of egg substitute in his mouth. "Liff wuu b suh brrrring ff t watt."
"Always so charming, Maxwell," Wufei scoffed. "Didn't they teach you on L2 to not speak when your mouth is full, or is that yet another social skill you failed to grasp?"
It's a well-practiced song and dance commenced over what seems like centuries, but can be realistically measured as a little over five years, and mostly commenced via Mobile Suit microphone - Duo and Wufei Death Match, Round 873.
"You should talk, baka," Duo replied, having successfully swallowed his third helping of eggs and creating another mountain on his sorely-abused plate. "Can you carry on a conversation without insulting the other person?"
"It is entirely not my fault that everyone I speak to is of pitiful intelligence."
"That is exactly what I'm talking about."
I catch Heero's eye from across the table, and he's almost - nearly, somewhat, possibly - smiling, or at least as much as one can over two laptops and a conference call and possessing the brilliantly strange mind of Heero Yuy.
"You're still jealous of my scythe, man. Admit it." Duo smirked, crossing his arms against his chest.
"Nataku had sufficient firepower to take on any possible enemy force, so there's really no point to this conversation." Wufei scoffed, annoyed.
"Aha!" Duo's voice was triumphant. "You didn't deny it, so clearly I'm correct."
Quatre let out the softest, most polite sigh of disappointment, and I couldn't help but smile, only the slightest curling of my lips. If Quatre is anything, he embodies courtesy to the core, stripping the layers and veneer to find someone who desperately cares.
Some might find it penance; a balm to the sore he created and cannot ever corrected, but they weren't there on a hot summer day, of gunfire and gleaming metal, two teenage boys revealing themselves in the epitome of vulnerability.
Those men, those unknown faces, have never seen Quatre smile.
If they had, then they would have realized that these moments of normalcy, of listening to Wufei and Duo battle about the most stupid of things - they are precious. They would know that WEI's collaboration with the Preventers is an opportunity torn from dreams and handed to me so delicately. They would see the way he looks, I look, making the best of the short time that we have together in this sweltering summer.
They could see, if they bothered to look.
"You're an idiot," Wufei concluded, hiding his face in his rice, realizing that such petty insults would only incense Duo's pleasure.
"Your idiot," Duo grinned happily, flinging a chunk of egg and splattering Wufei in the face. "Score."
"Duo!" Wufei bellowed, wiping the yellow debris off his nose and stomping to the other side of the table. "I swear, you can't act your age for one damn second…" The two began to squabble, Quatre and myself looking from Duo to Wufei and back again as the argument intensified.
Heero sighed, closing one of the laptops before rising to his feet and slanting a look in my direction. "Heading to my room; I can't get a damn thing done with you two yelling. Want to keep me company, Maxwell?"
A heated Duo was a distracted one, mouth producing snappy retort after snappy retort, so Heero leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to the skin of his round cheek. He held up a hand in farewell, nodding to the two of us as he easily heaved the two laptops into his arms and up the stairs.
Duo's reaction was relayed, the light pink flush radiating from high on his cheekbones to the fullness of each cheek, halting his argument with Duo by holding up a hand. "Did… did Heero just kiss me?"
"You two are dating," Quatre commented, popping an orange slice in his mouth. "Isn't that normal?"
"Well, uh, yeah, but not when people… are around."
My face must not have been particularly nice, because Quatre narrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head in my direction. Wufei seemed equally amused, snorting into his wheat flakes.
"That's a good development, then," Quatre replied with a smile, nudging Duo's elbow with his own. "Enjoy it."
Duo scratched the back of his head, lips twisted in embarrassment. "Thanks, Cat. I'm not sure what to think." His eyes were soft, but the temptation of Wufei was sitting only a few feet away. "So, Wufei, as you were saying?"
"You aren't worth it," Wufei replied smoothly, taking another bite of cereal.
"Oh, come on," Duo scoffed. "You've been baiting me all day, and that's how we're ending it?"
Quatre leans into my shoulder, the shape of his smile pressing through the fabric. "After the conference, let's spend some time together?"
I kiss his hair, the scent of pine flowing from him into me. "I'd like that."
Quatre's kicking.
His fingers curl into the sheets underneath his body, knuckles so pale, pale against crisp white. I move down again, focusing on the slickness and heat filling my mouth, gently pushing down on Quatre's hips to keep him centered, positioned to where I can pleasure him. Through my eyelashes, I gaze at Quatre's face, twisted in pleasure and dominated by light, hitched gasps, blond hair a mess across his forehead. The time since the war and the Gundams have wittled the five of us into men, hardened, yet softened by the fray. Quatre is no longer the baby-faced, petite boy that failed to garner attention outside of his famous surname, but a young man. Taller, leaner, stronger, with a shrewdness behind those blue eyes that only five years in the business sector can create, Quatre is even more beautiful.
He's the only thing I've ever wanted for myself.
"More," he moans, the slickness of sweat drawing lines of light on his abdominals. His body is shaking, reacting violently to my every move, and I swallow in the sight just as I swallow him down, this little piece of goodness in my broken, rotten core.
There were words that should have been exchanged long ago, but it's a thing I cannot bring himself to do. Quatre knows how I feel; I'm sure of it, but his confession upon Peacemillion is something I cannot replicate.
I love you, Trowa.
I love you, I love you.
They called me silent - No Name, No One. But I have different names now - Trowa; Preventer; Bodyguard; The One Who Loves Quatre; There are some things that cannot be taken away, and so I hold Quatre down, I show him in the language that I speak.
Quatre's hand darts out and clutches my own, the fingers lacing and suddenly he is stronger, sitting up and pulling our mouths closer, together. If he minds the taste of himself he fails to comment, lips sliding and sucking and biting as he tells me
"I love you, Trowa."
"I'm so glad you're here."
"You were made for me."
And they fall out. I try to catch them in their frightful speed, but words have no owners once released, and Quatre stops and looks at me like he's never laid eyes on my half of a face, like he's being reborn.
"Oh Trowa," Quatre says, smiling, tracing my jaw with his thumb. "Thank you for being you."
The smile that comes to my face is warmer now, because I smile for Quatre, and Quatre alone.
It's funny, how everything changes. Except for Quatre.