Fic: Entertain Me (Gundam Wing; Trowa Barton/Dorothy Catalonia)
Title: Entertain Me.
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: Trowa Barton/Dorothy Catalonia
Author/artist: Sporebat
Recipient: Arty!
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Semi-public sex, spoilers for series and Endless Waltz
Notes: Set sometime after EW, though not a set timeframe. The prompt was simply 'Cockpit'. This fic and I spent some time in a wrestling match, 'cause it's been a while since I'd written anything GW related, or even with 'adult themes' as it were, but hopefully I won. Hope you enjoy it! <3
"Does it pass inspection?"
The question came while she filed her nails, idly. It was the third time in half an hour that she had pulled out the file, and she was thoroughly bored. Of course, her company wasn't anywhere near what one might consider entertaining...
"Relena asked me to make sure these replicas were as close to the originals as possible," Trowa answered from behind the chair of the cockpit. It was an exact replica of Heavy Arms, down to the smallest details.
Leaning over the railing for the cockpit display, Dorothy snorted. "It looks the same from here. You didn't spend this long on the others." She stood straight, tapping her long nails against her cheek. "Oh, I get it... you want to make sure this one is extra special. Missing our Gundam, are we?"
There came a snort from the cockpit. It was the only acknowledgement of her mild jab. "You don't have to be here, Dorothy. I am capable of seeing my assignment through and then seeing myself out."
"Of course I have to be here," Dorothy snapped. "Who do you think is funding this little museum endeavor of Miss Relena's? I have to make sure nothing goes wrong with my investment." When Trowa didn't say anything, Dorothy lifted her skirt and climbed over the railing. Kneeling on the pilot's seat, she peeked over the headrest to see what Trowa was doing.
Unfortunately, all she could see was that he was playing with some of the leftover pieces of the replica's construction. "What are you doing?"
"I'm watching you," she replied in her most innocent voice. "What else could I doing?"
Trowa regarded her through his bangs for a moment, and she thought she might've seen the ghost of a smile... but with Trowa, it could have been anything - a trick of the light.
He returned to his work shortly. Still, he was nice to look at, she mused to herself. And despite being completely bored, she enjoyed being in his company on the rare occasions that it happened.
Not that it was her fault he failed to pick up on any of her hints that she wanted a date or three (or possibly more) out of him.
Drumming her fingers on the thick leather of the headrest, she contemplated the situation. She was bored, yet she had something interesting set before her. Granted, right now, he wasn't all that entertaining. What woman really liked watching a man fiddle with nuts and bolts? Still, she couldn't fault his attention to detail.
An idea began to form.
"Trowa." Her voice was light; airy. "Tell me you're not going to be playing with those things for much longer. I'm positively dying of boredom."
She watched his reaction.
"You don't have to be here." He didn't look up at all from his work, hiding his face behind a bank of wires. His voice was barely a mumble.
Not wanting to go back into her investment argument, Dorothy gave a light, dramatic sigh. "I guess I'll just have to create my own entertainment."
In a few short motions of her hand, she dropped her shirt right over Trowa's head.
He seemed surprised, for a moment. It gave her enough time to drop something else on his head, when he finally looked up in askance.
Her bra.
"Dorothy..." This time, he stood up. There came a quiet sigh from him, and when he turned to face her, he did well to keep eye contact. He said nothing else, mutely holding the garments out to her.
She tried to read into his tone of voice. Annoyance? Interest? She couldn't tell - it was spoken in the same quiet tone he always spoke with. She resorted to pouting and leaning against the back of the chair, enough to give her a bit of visible push to her chest.
He still didn't look down.
"Now is neither the time nor the place for such displays, Dorothy."
"Oh, why not?" she countered, reaching out and taking her clothes.
There was a notable pause, and Dorothy smirked lightly.
"Because there's a chance others could walk by," he answered. "It's not like we're the only ones in the building."
He finally broke eye contact in order to finish up what he was doing. Dorothy simply waited patiently. She had an answer ready as to why she was sitting half-naked in the pilot's seat. She was hoping he wasn't clueless enough to need one.
Silently, he stood. "We should go work on the others."
She turned around and sat in the chair proper, crossing her legs. She tucked her shirt and bra next to her, and folded her hands over her knees. While the specific idea itself ahd yet to come to fruition - and she was unsure if it would - she was at least entertained for the moment... however temporary.
"So, Trowa..." He stopped at the sound of her voice, but he didn't turn around. "You're saying the only reason you're hesitating is the chance that someone could walk by?" She tapped a finger against her cheek. So, he was interested. Perhaps he just needed a little nudge in the right direction. "And here, I thought you were more adventurous than that."
He turned his head, just far enough to look over his shoulder. Unfortunately for him, it was difficult to look only at her face, and she made a point of leaning back and stretching a little. She'd put on more of a display, but while she might not mind sitting in a pilot's seat with her top off, she still had some sense of propriety.
If she was going to engage in displays of semi-public vulgarity, she'd rather not do it alone.
"Personal adventure is different than one on the battlefield, Dorothy." His voice was as calm and level as ever. He shifted his weight, turning slightly towards her.
"Well, perhaps you should indulge in a little 'personal adventure,' then." She lifted a hand, palm up, and beckoned him towards her. She'd caught his eyes drop once or twice, just a fraction, so she was certain of his distraction. She didn't want to seem too obvious in looking for other signs of his interest. There were more effective ways of doing that, anyway.
Like when he turned to face her, fully, and began to approach. His hand slid against hers, fingers wrapping around it. He met her gaze, keeping it this time, and she didn't deny it - it seemed he felt it important.
His eyes narrowed a moment, as though considering what to say. Apparently he'd thought better of it, then, remaining silent. His head canted slightly to one side, as though listening to something.
"The risk of being discovered is still something to take into consideration."
She smirked, slightly. The expression was not unlike the cat that ate both the canary and the entire aviary, to boot. "Then I guess we'd just have to hurry."
To her surprise, there was a wordless sound of agreement from him. To her further surprise, he leaned down and kissed her. It was strangely light; fleeting. His hand slipped away from hers, but the touch was soon replaced as his arms circled around her. For someone who kept bringing up the chance of being caught, he was taking his sweet time.
He seemed to keep things light, initially, both the kiss and his hands. Touches here and there raised goosebumps, but it was hardly overpowering. Yet when he started inching the hem of her skirt up along her legs, she began to feel a little more in the mood.
She felt good, at least for the moment. It took a little effort but she managed to stifle the urge to tell him where to put his hands and what to do with them, amongst other things. Of course, when a fingertip touched the cloth of her panties, she figured he at least had a good idea of what she'd want.
She jumped just a little, and he responded by pressing his hand fully between her legs, fingers flexing experimentally. Now that, she decided, felt nice... even if it wasn't exactly being invasive just yet.
"That alright?" he murmured against her lips. He pulled up for a moment, taking the time to just look at her.
She gave a little moan and rolled her hips. Was he really asking for her permission? She had propositioned him, and he still had to ask if it was alright?
"Trowa, really..."
"Just making sure." He gave her another light kiss before everything took a different turn altogether.
Dorothy suddenly found herself flipped over, arms unceremoniously tossed over the headrest. At least it gave her something to hold onto, when he pressed himself against her back. His arms again wrapped around her, both hands cupping her breasts and holding them for a moment, just enough to stimulate them. To be honest, the nip he paid to the back of her shoulder was what brought her to shiver.
His hands moved then, sliding under her skirt and tugging down her panties until they rested around her knees.
"Changed your mind about how you wanted to go about it?" she teased, though the question ended on a gasp when the fingers of one hand returned to exploring between her legs, though this time a bit more earnestly.
Trowa worked the zipper of his jeans down. "You were the one who made the suggestion of being quick if I didn't want to get caught," he said with a smirk. He pushed her hair so that it fell to the side instead of being in the way. As he pressed against her, he added, "Besides, I don't hear any complaints."
With his hand still working between her legs, he finished freeing himself from his pants, and quickly thrust into her. It took a few tentative strokes before he was fully buried in her due to the lack of genuine foreplay, but it didn't take long for her to warm up.
"Now that... that's more like it, Trowa," she panted as she adjusted to having him inside her. She thought she heard him laugh, but ignored it and focused on the sensations instead. He moved in her at a clipped pace, meant to remind her that someone could pass by at any moment, but it was still enjoyable. Enhancing her pleasure was the hand he kept between her legs, fingers teasing and pressing against her clit with each thrust.
His other hand was busy, as it alternated between her gripping her hip and squeezing her breast. Apart from his breathing growing heavier, he was mostly silent, but she wasn't surprised. She herself had to keep in mind to keep things at least down to a dull roar. Museums echoed, after all. She couldn't help it, though, and bit her lip to stifle a moan. He did feel good inside of her, each of his movements creating just a little bit of delicious friction.
Part of her wanted to slow down and focus on her pleasure, but given the circumstances, Dorothy didn’t have the luxury to indulge. His urgent pace made it obvious that Trowa wasn’t concerned with a slow, comfortable fuck either. It wasn't a total loss, though. Between his fingers and his cock, it was hard for her to be disappointed while being delightfully screwed at a steady but quick pace.
His rhythm varied little as he went on. It had started fast, and it stayed that way. There was little but the steady thrusts as he drove his cock in and out of her. He had been right earlier, though - there were no complaints.
In the end, it wasn't meant to last long, and it didn't. Dorothy was surprised that she managed to get off at all. She wouldn’t have minded if she didn’t come - the sex was still enjoyable - but at one point he tilted her hips a little and hit a spot that, in combination with the stimulation from his hand, brought her over the edge. His own orgasm came with a few hard, quick thrusts and soft sounds.
Quietly, he withdrew his hand from between her legs and idly rubbed her thigh, pressing the other hand next to hers on the headrest in order to prop himself up. Dorothy sensed an oddly tense moment amidst the afterglow.
"Entertainment, huh?"
That was probably what he was wanting to say before all this had started, she realized. She squirmed against him, a cue for him to at least let her up and begin making herself somewhat presentable. He obliged, and she first adjusted her panties to their proper position, then turned and seated herself to replace her bra and shirt.
"Entertainment is fleeting interest, Trowa," Dorothy responded in a haughty, breathless tone. "And you, dear, are anything but fleeting." She gave him a genuine smile. "If you'd paid attention to all those times I'd tried to get you to take me out, you'd know this by now."
He seemed momentarily surprised, paused in fixing his clothing. "I thought you were just teasing."
She couldn't be offended by that. She was a tease, at times. She just shot him that smug smile. "Bah. I don't tease like that when I genuinely want something." Standing, she waited long enough for him to finish buttoning his shirt before walking over and kissing him lightly.
He simply sighed, resigned, but it didn't seem negative. "Dinner, I take it? My treat."
She clapped her hands. "Oh, Trowa! I never thought you'd ask. Of course I'd go out to dinner with you."
...She was dead sure he'd rolled his eyes at that, but his smile was unmistakable, faint as it was.
"Alright. Enough goofing off," Dorothy commented, turning and climbing over the railing. She would have to make a trip to the ladies' room before they continued on their inspection. "We have work to d-Trowa?"
Her words trailed off in a question, watching him stare at the replica of the Gundam.
Trowa only frowned lightly.
"I'm never going to think of Heavy Arms the same way again."
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: Trowa Barton/Dorothy Catalonia
Author/artist: Sporebat
Recipient: Arty!
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Semi-public sex, spoilers for series and Endless Waltz
Notes: Set sometime after EW, though not a set timeframe. The prompt was simply 'Cockpit'. This fic and I spent some time in a wrestling match, 'cause it's been a while since I'd written anything GW related, or even with 'adult themes' as it were, but hopefully I won. Hope you enjoy it! <3
"Does it pass inspection?"
The question came while she filed her nails, idly. It was the third time in half an hour that she had pulled out the file, and she was thoroughly bored. Of course, her company wasn't anywhere near what one might consider entertaining...
"Relena asked me to make sure these replicas were as close to the originals as possible," Trowa answered from behind the chair of the cockpit. It was an exact replica of Heavy Arms, down to the smallest details.
Leaning over the railing for the cockpit display, Dorothy snorted. "It looks the same from here. You didn't spend this long on the others." She stood straight, tapping her long nails against her cheek. "Oh, I get it... you want to make sure this one is extra special. Missing our Gundam, are we?"
There came a snort from the cockpit. It was the only acknowledgement of her mild jab. "You don't have to be here, Dorothy. I am capable of seeing my assignment through and then seeing myself out."
"Of course I have to be here," Dorothy snapped. "Who do you think is funding this little museum endeavor of Miss Relena's? I have to make sure nothing goes wrong with my investment." When Trowa didn't say anything, Dorothy lifted her skirt and climbed over the railing. Kneeling on the pilot's seat, she peeked over the headrest to see what Trowa was doing.
Unfortunately, all she could see was that he was playing with some of the leftover pieces of the replica's construction. "What are you doing?"
"I'm watching you," she replied in her most innocent voice. "What else could I doing?"
Trowa regarded her through his bangs for a moment, and she thought she might've seen the ghost of a smile... but with Trowa, it could have been anything - a trick of the light.
He returned to his work shortly. Still, he was nice to look at, she mused to herself. And despite being completely bored, she enjoyed being in his company on the rare occasions that it happened.
Not that it was her fault he failed to pick up on any of her hints that she wanted a date or three (or possibly more) out of him.
Drumming her fingers on the thick leather of the headrest, she contemplated the situation. She was bored, yet she had something interesting set before her. Granted, right now, he wasn't all that entertaining. What woman really liked watching a man fiddle with nuts and bolts? Still, she couldn't fault his attention to detail.
An idea began to form.
"Trowa." Her voice was light; airy. "Tell me you're not going to be playing with those things for much longer. I'm positively dying of boredom."
She watched his reaction.
"You don't have to be here." He didn't look up at all from his work, hiding his face behind a bank of wires. His voice was barely a mumble.
Not wanting to go back into her investment argument, Dorothy gave a light, dramatic sigh. "I guess I'll just have to create my own entertainment."
In a few short motions of her hand, she dropped her shirt right over Trowa's head.
He seemed surprised, for a moment. It gave her enough time to drop something else on his head, when he finally looked up in askance.
Her bra.
"Dorothy..." This time, he stood up. There came a quiet sigh from him, and when he turned to face her, he did well to keep eye contact. He said nothing else, mutely holding the garments out to her.
She tried to read into his tone of voice. Annoyance? Interest? She couldn't tell - it was spoken in the same quiet tone he always spoke with. She resorted to pouting and leaning against the back of the chair, enough to give her a bit of visible push to her chest.
He still didn't look down.
"Now is neither the time nor the place for such displays, Dorothy."
"Oh, why not?" she countered, reaching out and taking her clothes.
There was a notable pause, and Dorothy smirked lightly.
"Because there's a chance others could walk by," he answered. "It's not like we're the only ones in the building."
He finally broke eye contact in order to finish up what he was doing. Dorothy simply waited patiently. She had an answer ready as to why she was sitting half-naked in the pilot's seat. She was hoping he wasn't clueless enough to need one.
Silently, he stood. "We should go work on the others."
She turned around and sat in the chair proper, crossing her legs. She tucked her shirt and bra next to her, and folded her hands over her knees. While the specific idea itself ahd yet to come to fruition - and she was unsure if it would - she was at least entertained for the moment... however temporary.
"So, Trowa..." He stopped at the sound of her voice, but he didn't turn around. "You're saying the only reason you're hesitating is the chance that someone could walk by?" She tapped a finger against her cheek. So, he was interested. Perhaps he just needed a little nudge in the right direction. "And here, I thought you were more adventurous than that."
He turned his head, just far enough to look over his shoulder. Unfortunately for him, it was difficult to look only at her face, and she made a point of leaning back and stretching a little. She'd put on more of a display, but while she might not mind sitting in a pilot's seat with her top off, she still had some sense of propriety.
If she was going to engage in displays of semi-public vulgarity, she'd rather not do it alone.
"Personal adventure is different than one on the battlefield, Dorothy." His voice was as calm and level as ever. He shifted his weight, turning slightly towards her.
"Well, perhaps you should indulge in a little 'personal adventure,' then." She lifted a hand, palm up, and beckoned him towards her. She'd caught his eyes drop once or twice, just a fraction, so she was certain of his distraction. She didn't want to seem too obvious in looking for other signs of his interest. There were more effective ways of doing that, anyway.
Like when he turned to face her, fully, and began to approach. His hand slid against hers, fingers wrapping around it. He met her gaze, keeping it this time, and she didn't deny it - it seemed he felt it important.
His eyes narrowed a moment, as though considering what to say. Apparently he'd thought better of it, then, remaining silent. His head canted slightly to one side, as though listening to something.
"The risk of being discovered is still something to take into consideration."
She smirked, slightly. The expression was not unlike the cat that ate both the canary and the entire aviary, to boot. "Then I guess we'd just have to hurry."
To her surprise, there was a wordless sound of agreement from him. To her further surprise, he leaned down and kissed her. It was strangely light; fleeting. His hand slipped away from hers, but the touch was soon replaced as his arms circled around her. For someone who kept bringing up the chance of being caught, he was taking his sweet time.
He seemed to keep things light, initially, both the kiss and his hands. Touches here and there raised goosebumps, but it was hardly overpowering. Yet when he started inching the hem of her skirt up along her legs, she began to feel a little more in the mood.
She felt good, at least for the moment. It took a little effort but she managed to stifle the urge to tell him where to put his hands and what to do with them, amongst other things. Of course, when a fingertip touched the cloth of her panties, she figured he at least had a good idea of what she'd want.
She jumped just a little, and he responded by pressing his hand fully between her legs, fingers flexing experimentally. Now that, she decided, felt nice... even if it wasn't exactly being invasive just yet.
"That alright?" he murmured against her lips. He pulled up for a moment, taking the time to just look at her.
She gave a little moan and rolled her hips. Was he really asking for her permission? She had propositioned him, and he still had to ask if it was alright?
"Trowa, really..."
"Just making sure." He gave her another light kiss before everything took a different turn altogether.
Dorothy suddenly found herself flipped over, arms unceremoniously tossed over the headrest. At least it gave her something to hold onto, when he pressed himself against her back. His arms again wrapped around her, both hands cupping her breasts and holding them for a moment, just enough to stimulate them. To be honest, the nip he paid to the back of her shoulder was what brought her to shiver.
His hands moved then, sliding under her skirt and tugging down her panties until they rested around her knees.
"Changed your mind about how you wanted to go about it?" she teased, though the question ended on a gasp when the fingers of one hand returned to exploring between her legs, though this time a bit more earnestly.
Trowa worked the zipper of his jeans down. "You were the one who made the suggestion of being quick if I didn't want to get caught," he said with a smirk. He pushed her hair so that it fell to the side instead of being in the way. As he pressed against her, he added, "Besides, I don't hear any complaints."
With his hand still working between her legs, he finished freeing himself from his pants, and quickly thrust into her. It took a few tentative strokes before he was fully buried in her due to the lack of genuine foreplay, but it didn't take long for her to warm up.
"Now that... that's more like it, Trowa," she panted as she adjusted to having him inside her. She thought she heard him laugh, but ignored it and focused on the sensations instead. He moved in her at a clipped pace, meant to remind her that someone could pass by at any moment, but it was still enjoyable. Enhancing her pleasure was the hand he kept between her legs, fingers teasing and pressing against her clit with each thrust.
His other hand was busy, as it alternated between her gripping her hip and squeezing her breast. Apart from his breathing growing heavier, he was mostly silent, but she wasn't surprised. She herself had to keep in mind to keep things at least down to a dull roar. Museums echoed, after all. She couldn't help it, though, and bit her lip to stifle a moan. He did feel good inside of her, each of his movements creating just a little bit of delicious friction.
Part of her wanted to slow down and focus on her pleasure, but given the circumstances, Dorothy didn’t have the luxury to indulge. His urgent pace made it obvious that Trowa wasn’t concerned with a slow, comfortable fuck either. It wasn't a total loss, though. Between his fingers and his cock, it was hard for her to be disappointed while being delightfully screwed at a steady but quick pace.
His rhythm varied little as he went on. It had started fast, and it stayed that way. There was little but the steady thrusts as he drove his cock in and out of her. He had been right earlier, though - there were no complaints.
In the end, it wasn't meant to last long, and it didn't. Dorothy was surprised that she managed to get off at all. She wouldn’t have minded if she didn’t come - the sex was still enjoyable - but at one point he tilted her hips a little and hit a spot that, in combination with the stimulation from his hand, brought her over the edge. His own orgasm came with a few hard, quick thrusts and soft sounds.
Quietly, he withdrew his hand from between her legs and idly rubbed her thigh, pressing the other hand next to hers on the headrest in order to prop himself up. Dorothy sensed an oddly tense moment amidst the afterglow.
"Entertainment, huh?"
That was probably what he was wanting to say before all this had started, she realized. She squirmed against him, a cue for him to at least let her up and begin making herself somewhat presentable. He obliged, and she first adjusted her panties to their proper position, then turned and seated herself to replace her bra and shirt.
"Entertainment is fleeting interest, Trowa," Dorothy responded in a haughty, breathless tone. "And you, dear, are anything but fleeting." She gave him a genuine smile. "If you'd paid attention to all those times I'd tried to get you to take me out, you'd know this by now."
He seemed momentarily surprised, paused in fixing his clothing. "I thought you were just teasing."
She couldn't be offended by that. She was a tease, at times. She just shot him that smug smile. "Bah. I don't tease like that when I genuinely want something." Standing, she waited long enough for him to finish buttoning his shirt before walking over and kissing him lightly.
He simply sighed, resigned, but it didn't seem negative. "Dinner, I take it? My treat."
She clapped her hands. "Oh, Trowa! I never thought you'd ask. Of course I'd go out to dinner with you."
...She was dead sure he'd rolled his eyes at that, but his smile was unmistakable, faint as it was.
"Alright. Enough goofing off," Dorothy commented, turning and climbing over the railing. She would have to make a trip to the ladies' room before they continued on their inspection. "We have work to d-Trowa?"
Her words trailed off in a question, watching him stare at the replica of the Gundam.
Trowa only frowned lightly.
"I'm never going to think of Heavy Arms the same way again."