Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, wish I did, just enjoy
writing about ‘em for free etc
Pairings: (lemon) 1x2x1, 5x3, 3x4 (other assorted
citrus) 1x2x3x4x5
Category: AU, Duo POV, PWP
Warnings: Yaoi, lemon
Spoilers: None
Notes: For
all those with the flu this year – let Duo and the guys offer sympathy and a distraction to all your battered senses…
Feedback: If
you liked it, PLEASE let me know!
Part Four
The bedroom door creaks slightly as it opens.
I know what’s coming next, don’t I? And that pun is worthy of one of
Trowa’s. We’re four heaving bodies
together – so I guess the fifth isn’t gonna be far away. I’m leaning against Heero’s back, panting,
cock feeling like it’s being squeezed as tight as toothpaste in a tube, and
suddenly there’s the brush of fine blond hair against my arm.
“Quatre…” I sigh.
Well, at least he has the manners to enter by the door, rather than
lurking in the shadows of my wardrobe like the others. But from the look on the face that bobs up
under my outstretched arm, he’s not missed much of the plot so far.
“How do I look, Duo?” he asks, in that mischievous way
that only he has. He’s perched Heero’s
nurse’s hat on his blond head. He looks
kinda cute – but not in the way that Heero does; in a way that I know means
business.
“Stupid,” I say, curtly. Mind you, it’s difficult to be anything but curt when you’re in the middle of a
steamy session with your lover, legs and arms entwined, sharing sweat and
bodily fluids galore – and accompanied by two other hot guys, joined just as
enthusiastically at the hips and loving every thrust as much as you are
yourself.
I groan – I climax with painful ecstasy, and my head
spins. Underneath me, Heero shudders and
sighs in that way he has that tells me he’s suffering a similar fate. I cling to him like driftwood after a
shipwreck, and try to settle my breathing.
Quatre stands beside us, all but tapping his foot as
we finish.
“Quatre, fuck off,” I gasp. I’m doing a lot of that. The gasping, that is. “You inhibit a guy.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“That’s not what you’ve been saying in your fevered dreams, Maxwell.””
I sigh. Fair defeat. “You’re
naked, too.”
“Everyone else is,” he shrugs. He has a bag on his arm and the paper rustles
with the movement. “And what’s more, I
come bearing gifts.” Beside me, I hear
Wufei murmur something to the effect that so does he, and then I hear a stream of colourful language from Trowa’s
mouth, which I reckon means the same.
Some of the words sound suspiciously like that prehistoric dialect of
mine.
Heero goes limp in my arms, so I catch him and lay him
back down on the bed. I’m rather eager
to clean off his cock; it’s looking tasty, still leaking, and happily bobbing
on his belly in a sticky, red-purple exhaustion. But I can’t resist watching Trowa and Wufei
instead – by now, they’re more than a little overwrought. Wufei has his hands tangled in Trowa’s brown
locks, tugging his head back into his own neck, and baring Trowa’s throat. Wufei’s hips bend and thrust up into Trowa,
and I take mental bets on whether he’ll last ten seconds or thirty seconds
more.
And then Quatre’s up beside Wufei, his pale skin cool
and smooth against Wufei’s sweaty, oiled flesh and Trowa’s flushed, clenching
muscles. He leans up and kisses at
Trowa’s throat, sucking gently at the beads of sweat there. His hand runs gently down the brunette man’s
straining chest, his finger lingering playfully in his navel.
“You never heard of manners, Quat?” Trowa grinds out
the words a little raggedly; his whole body is moving in rhythm with Wufei’s
harsh thrusts. “It’s polite to shake
when you meet a friend –“
Quatre flashes a glance back at me and Heero on the
bed and smiles his sweetest smile. Man
is the child of the devil, I swear. Or maybe of one of those prehistoric tribesmen. Wufei’s eyes open wider as he watches
Quatre’s hand fold deliberately around Trowa’s fiercely erect cock and begin to
pump carefully.
I give Wufei the ‘ten seconds to climax’ ultimatum
after all. I’m not far out. He groans, and grabs at Trowa so hard that I
can see fingerprints on skin.
Trowa yells as he follows the dark-haired man over the
steep edge of ecstasy. He sags against
the wall, one of his knees buckling so that Quatre has to use his free hand to
hold him upright. Sticky white cum
spurts out over Quatre’s busier hand and beyond, making a rather attractive –
and probably indelible – stain on my wallpaper.
“Pleased to meet you…” Quatre murmurs into his neck.
“No, so pleased I could come!” Trowa groans, and Quatre laughs.
*
Quatre has, indeed, brought gifts. Or refreshment, rather. I’m pretty glad for it – my throat is parched
and my body a little shaky. Haven’t
eaten or drunk much for days – not had the taste for it. My weakness has nothing to do with the excess
of aggressive sex, after a serious bout of flu.
Of
course not.
I’m lying back on my bed with my head in Heero’s
lap. If I turn to the right, I can munch
on the dark curling hairs of his groin.
If I turn to the left, I can munch on Quatre’s cache of pastries and sugared
doughnuts.
It’s a close call.
Quatre himself lies beside me, trails of sugar all
over his chin and cheeks, and I don’t just mean the ones on his face. Trowa has opened three bottles of a
raspberry-flavoured sparkling wine, also part of Quatre’s booty, and my bed
covers are already damp from various clumsy spillages. So is Quatre’s navel and Trowa’s own
chin. So is the cleft between Wufei’s
buttocks, because that’s where Trowa is currently dribbling generous drops of
it off his fingers. Wufei is somehow
entwined between Quatre’s outstretched legs, resting on his side. Trowa is perched on the edge of the mattress,
leaning over the pair of them.
The logistics tire me, so I don’t dwell on ‘em. Just enjoy the sight and smell and sound of
soft flesh, the occasional pop of a shoulder joint, and the chuckles following
every loose trail of pinkish liquid.
I’m thinking the alien world has a lot going for
it. Beam me up, and all that.
Gone is the nasty kapok-flavoured aftertaste in my
mouth from the sickness and the medicine.
Gone is the dull, generic taste of all food that I’ve eaten in the last
week. My tastebuds
have awoken with a glorious shout and a sudden, hungry burst of
attentiveness!
“Don’t people usually bring grapes to the invalid?” I
grin at Quatre.
He slaps at Trowa’s hand as it wanders across my left
thigh. “Grapes, Trowa! He said grapes!
Down, boy!”
Grinning back at me, he leans up to lick at Trowa’s
chin, and the brunette bends his head down to kiss him back. Like I mentioned, Trowa has for a long time
been kinda taken with one of our housemates – and that’s this slim blond with
the bakery products and the doughball butt. They make no secret of it.
Wufei has twisted himself in some strange tae-kwon-do
move that I never learnt in the two lessons I attended, so that he’s able to
stay in touch with Quatre’s limbs whilst reaching across to kiss my mouth. He’s pretty good at it. I can taste sweetness on his lips that’s
beyond sugar, and I secretly holler thanks for the return of all of my body’s
responses. I feel Heero’s hand sliding
round my neck, tugging my head back towards him, and then I’ve got his lips to contend with as well. The two of ‘em lie half over me, slopping
happily together on my face, bumping noses occasionally, all three of our
tongues flickering and plunging in wherever there’s space.
Two’s company; three’s fun. Especially with doughnuts
as well. A
balanced diet, indeed.
Quatre hoists himself up to sitting, and whimpers
softly. “My turn to
join in, right? Save the best
tastes until last. Tender
meat after vegetables. Rich dessert after main course.” Trowa snorts in the background, but is
ignored. The blond head dips and starts
to lick at the dribbles of wine along the creases of Wufei’s ass – the dark
haired man winces and moans with delight.
I’m still kissing, entwined with Heero, and wondering
what miracle of modern science is provoking the return of my erection, when
Quatre kisses his way right up to Wufei’s chin, and joins us full length on the
mattress again. Shares
the kisses with just the same level of unselfishness as the rest of us. His lips are smaller and fuller than Wufei’s,
and still rather sticky with sugar crystals, and his
eagerness is the most delicious taste of the lot. I can hear the legs of my bed groaning at
four of us writhing and jostling for position.
Yeah, four’s pretty good, too.
*
There’s a soft crunching noise beneath us, and I feel
something like the edge of a packet digging into my kidney area. Ouch!
Quatre wriggles his hands underneath our bodies,
though there doesn’t seem to be a sexual agenda – not just yet. We’re laughing, and he’s cursing, and then
there’s the tearing of several wrappers, and a burst of sweet aroma
released. When he stretches out again he
has a stick of Pocky between his lips.
I think about chasing it.
Then Quatre presses a stick in my mouth and a long,
slim finger up my ass and for five seconds I stop thinking all together.
He thrusts gently into me, adding another finger, his lips
still tracing across me, and Heero, and Wufei too, until the dark-haired man
rolls over completely and kneels up on the bed beside us. He sits back on his heels, panting heavily;
watching us with a smile on his face. I
give him a quick, appreciative glance.
Guess it was uncomfortable, lying on a shaft like that. He catches Trowa’s eye over the bodies on the
bed and they grin at each other.
Quatre continues to finger fuck me very
enthusiastically, but now he plucks the moistened Pocky stick back out of my
mouth. Not that he seems to be hungry
himself, or not for that. Instead, he
strokes it gently across my bare belly and chest, making soft, ticklish
circular movements.
Heero is watching Quatre’s fingers in me with
interest; he’s stroking his own arousal with careful adoration. He catches my eye, and we smirk. Time
the Wonka boy was given his own chance to melt.
“What the fuck are you doing, Quatre?” I ask, mildly
enough. I can feel the slight stickiness
of warm chocolate on my skin. It’s by no
means unpleasant.
“You taste so good Duo, just thought I’d add some
sauce. Let me write your lucky number,
all over this sweet, sweaty skin.”
“Guess that was always ‘two’…” I gasp. His hand cups at my balls as his fingers
probe; the chocolate trail is hardening on my belly. Heero is looking at its progress with greedy
eyes.
“Try ‘five’, tonight,” Quatre whispers back. His hand flourishes; the tip of his tongue is
peeking from between his even white teeth as he sketches out the number. “Try five…”
But I turn the tables.
I grab at him, snatch the biscuit from him, and roll him over on to his
belly – he gives an ‘ughh’ of surprise. Heero rolls beside him and catches his mouth
with a kiss full of hot, slick tongue.
Distracted as the blond is, it allows me to part his buttocks and lick
quickly and greedily at his pink entrance.
He yelps into Heero’s mouth; the skin of his ass puckers and flexes against
my questing tongue. My finger follows my
tongue, sliding into him. I trail the
remains of the Pocky stick playfully down between his cheeks, the tacky
chocolate snagging on the soft hairs of his butt. I nibble at the end of it – the Pocky, that
is. I’m
still hungry, I guess. Then my tongue
comes back to his body for seconds.
Teasing - probing into the
tight little hole.
“Taste me
too, Duo,” he whimpers.
I alternate between Quatre’s ass and my other sweet treat. Licking; sucking; teeth nipping. Takes me a hell of a long time to savour and
devour a couple of inches of Pocky.
*
Quatre has collapsed underneath us, groaning, all wet
and sticky and tasty beyond foodstuffs.
“Never eaten Pocky like this,” says Heero through a
full mouth of the stuff. Some of it has
been far too near the various crevices of our bodies for it to pass any kinda
Environmental Health legislation.
Gotta love law-breaking.
“You must try everything once,” Quatre sighs. There’s a very sharp, high flush on his pale
face. Makes him look
five years younger – and barely legal himself. “Try every experience – every taste.
That’s what I told you once, Duo – and that’s what we did, right?”
“Yeah,” I grin.
“I learnt a lot from you that summer.”
“You and Quatre…” Heero shifts underneath me, but I
think I’ve got the message by now that he’s got no interest in my apologies -
just salacious details.
“It was a holiday romance,” I sigh. “Long time ago. Sea; sun; sand.” Other
stuff beginning with ‘s’.
Quatre had come alive by the sea, and it had been a damned attractive
sight. Blond hair
bleached by the sun; softly tanned skin; gorgeously long, fine legs; at home in
the water like a particularly playful and vivacious fish. I liked to taste the burn of the sun on his
skin; he liked to taste whatever part of me he could get his hands on. Quatre liked lots of attention – still
does.
I grin, happily.
“Quatre adapts the other physical joys of life, like food and drink –“
“ – to the one
of passion,” murmurs Trowa. “I know that
well.” His hand is on my thigh, but his
eyes are on the blond man laid out on the bed, who now seems to be kissing my lover with an enthusiasm that I’m
kinda fascinated to watch. “So what did
he share with you, Duo? The Italian cuisine? The pinot wines? The liqueur truffles?”
“The ice cream,” I confess, a little embarrassed at my
lack of imagination. “All flavours, though!” But what do I care if it’s not gourmet? Quatre gives an equally passionate welcome to
all sensual tastes – of food, of drink, of anything else that might pass his
mouth.
Ice cream’s a fine aphrodisiac, I’ve found. Don’t think that’s recommended on the tubs,
though.
“Whatever works for you.” Trowa’s voice is very husky, and he’s
reaching for the slender man panting at my hip.
“Want my portion, Quatre. Want my
just desserts. Want your flavour.”
*
He unpeels Quatre from the pile of limbs like
unravelling a silken rope. He lifts the
guy on to his hands and knees and faces him to the head of the bed. Quatre sighs with approval. Trowa kneels behind him, dips his head to the
pale ass, and starts to lap. Wufei is at
Quatre’s head and wriggles forward, still on his knees; he tilts Quatre’s blond
head up to his groin.
Quatre leans his head forward and his smile slowly enfolds
Wufei’s impressive – once again – erection.
The dark haired man groans with a long awaited pleasure; the blond hums
with satisfaction. Trowa settles himself at Quatre’s ass and strokes his own
swollen cock against the dampened channel between the blond’s
buttocks. He guides himself into his
entrance, bursting gently through the tight ring of the opening – crushing the
last granules of sugar on Quatre’s butt under his palms. Now it’s Quatre’s turn to groan, even as his
head bobs up and down Wufei’s shaft.
Heero’s eyes are glinting with excitement as he
watches the show. Guess mine look
similarly dilated. The three men start
to move in a careful rhythm, but it’s obvious that they’re holding themselves
back for the benefit of each other’s comfort.
Wufei’s head goes back – Trowa’s face is very flushed, and his teeth
gritted. Between them, Quatre has sweat
on his back and the muscles of his arms are bulging as he holds himself upright
on his knees.
The rhythm starts to speed up. Wufei’s hand strays to Quatre’s head, directing
the enthusiastic sucking. He glances up,
and Trowa looks back at him. The
brunette licks his lips, and buries his hips ever deeper against Quatre’s
ass. Quatre moans – I can hear the
sounds of his tongue, licking against Wufei’s flesh.
He was always very good
at that.
Heero is lifting himself out of my embrace and
crawling over the bed, to the other side of the three. He lays down underneath the arch of Quatre’s
body, at right angles to it, and reaches a mouth up to the man’s hot, damp,
blood-red cock. It’s lurching with the
backward and forwards motions, bobbing hungrily against Quatre’s belly. Heero licks at it, and I see the thin silver
trail of saliva between the shaft and his lips.
I also see the start of pleasure in Quatre’s eyes.
Well, I’m not being party pooper, y’know? And everyone knows I get bored easily.
So I wriggle myself round to lie at the same angle as
Heero, but on the other side of Quatre.
Never knew my poor old bed was so damned accommodating. Then I bump my head in a friendly fashion
against my lover’s, and I too lift my mouth to Quatre’s deliciously pendant
organ. I lick the other side of it; I
tickle my tongue in amongst the hairs and the crease of his leg. He gargles something appreciative, and the
instinctive movement of his mouth causes Wufei to gasp. My lips touch at Heero’s as we suck him off and
the combination of tastes is far, far
beyond ‘tasty’ – as far as the lap dancing aliens must be from the prehistoric
tribe, I guess. My own cock springs up
eagerly from my outstretched lap – I can see Heero reaching for his, so when I stroke at mine, all I’m
doing is following his lead.
Whatever. I wonder how often people die from flu,
because I could never have imagined any of this happening more than ten miles
from Heaven’s gates. But it sure feels
like now - sure feels like here. I sigh with something like
smugness.
Wufei is shuddering to a climax now – when I look up
at the underside of Quatre’s body I can see his throat convulsing, swallowing
the seed. Looking at the other end of
his body, I see Trowa’s thighs clenching tightly, and his thrusts speeding
up. A sudden pause – and then I hear his
own groan of completion, and Quatre’s ass pressing forcefully back against his
lover’s ejaculation. Heero and I
continue to kiss and suck and lave our own brand of tongue massage up and down
Quatre’s cock, and we’re rewarded with a particularly high shriek from the
blond when he climaxes. Sticky spurts of
cum spatter hotly on to my tongue – spray across Heero’s chin. We drink what we can, and let the rest
dribble over our exposed faces.
Gonna enjoy cleaning us both up in a minute – that’s
all I need to bring me to my own ecstasy, and I’m guessing from Heero’s
shallow, hoarse panting that he’ll be the same.
Yeah – it’s true.
Five is most definitely my
lucky number!
*
I’m lying back on my bed, like some recovering
invalid. Guess I am, really. Heero’s arms are round my waist. Several other pairs of hands are clutched to
various parts of my anatomy in a sleepy – but very delightful – fashion. The extreme physical sports seem to be at
rest for a while.
Every sense has been restored to me. Every nerve has been bombarded with
sensuality. Every muscle cries for
sleep.
And Heero hugs me.
Sappy fool.
“I love to touch you, Duo,” he sighs. And yawns. “We all do.
We all have. Happy?”
My Heero. Man of few – but poignant - words. “Very happy. So until I went blabbing about my past,
highly-chequered sexlife, you really thought I was
some kinda shrinking violet? Some kinda innocent?”
He shrugs gently, and his hair brushes the hollow of
my throat. God, that hair! My nerves shiver. No.
I’m firm with myself. I can’t manage it
again. Can I?
“It’s just how we started, Duo – and then I didn’t
like to ask anything different of you.
Didn’t want to disturb the fun we did
have. It’s all been good.”
“Though a bit dull sometimes.”
“Sometimes.” Someone snickers softly beside me, but I
don’t bother reacting. Heero sighs. “Maybe the others tried to tell me that you’d
got the wrong impression of me,
too. But I ignored them. Maybe it’s been one long
misunderstanding. It happens.” He kisses me on the shoulder, aimlessly. “Damned glad I listened in to your dreams
this week.”
“As are we all…”
murmurs Quatre.
“Glad?” mutters Wufei.
“Damned!” laughs Trowa. They roll back against each other with an ‘oof’ of weariness and an
‘ahhh’ of stirring lust.
I arch my back against my lover. Perhaps the doughnuts have restored my
strength. “I might never have told you
all of it in the stark light of day, Heero.
This week has been some kinda luck for us.”
Heero smiles again.
He licks out at my skin; runs his tongue around the dark bed of my
nipple. “It was a revelation, Duo. Not luck.”
Trowa stirs again and Quatre’s voice raps out at
him. “He said luck, Trowa, luck. For God’s
sake -!”
*
I think they’re all sleeping. I haven’t the heart to turf them off my bed
and back to their own rooms.
I rub aimlessly against Heero’s tight belly. He’s
still awake. “About my
revelations, Heero.” I bite my
lip. “Just thought
you’d be jealous.”
“Why should I be?”
“You know… seeing the guys around all the time. Knowing I’d been with them, at some stage or
another.”
“Cute,” he grins.
“But it’s in the past. Now you’re
with me, and that’s more special than sex alone.”
I feel warm. “Oh yeah. Nothing better.”
There’s a short silence.
Heero coughs gently.
“Are you jealous then?”
“What about?”
“Me.”
Huh? “Your past sexlife? I
mean, I don’t know everything about you as regards that, but I kinda assumed there wasn’t too much to worry about –“
I pause. “Heero? What’s that
noise? You pissed at me?”
No answer. “You
laughing?”
So are the others.
And here am I, thinking they’re drowsing and giving me and Heero some
quality time together. “You mean you did ‘em as well -?”
He only smiles.
Such a very, very
sexy smile. It’ll never look
quite as straightforward to me again.
Quatre sighs against my calf; Wufei strokes at Heero’s arm. Trowa murmurs something about the joys of ‘doing what comes naturally’…
“All of
them?” I’m weighing up whether I’m
aggrieved or admiring. “And you call my secrets a revelation?”
My plain vanilla lover….
My simple, unassuming, naive lover…
I scowl. “Did
you really hold yourself back then, dating me?
All that crap, looking disapproving during the
nature programmes? Hiding Wufei’s porn mags? Re-coding the
password on the TV each night for the adult channels?” Racing
through sex like it’s a necessary evil rather than this swamp of sensual
pampering?
He smirks. Smirks, I kid you not! “I told you it’s been a strain.”
If I weren’t so tired, I’d slap him.
Or fuck him.
Sigh. Whatever.
*
The voices come to me like the pulsing waves of the
sea. I just wanna sleep. I need
sleep, guys, remember? I have been ill, you know!
“How much of that medicine has he had, Heero?”
The shake of a nearly empty bottle. “Most of it. He’s been ill for a week, Trowa. It’s what he needed to make him feel better.”
A snort from Wufei. “Isn’t that the one they took off the market
last year?”
“No,” says Heero, but he sounds a little unsure. “It’s fine.
He’s recovering well.”
“Thought I read a medical bulletin saying that it
causes hallucinations,” Quatre chips in.
“Wild trips.
Exotic dreams.
Over-sensitisation of nerves. Super-heightened sensory
responses.”
“What are you?” growls Heero. “A doctor?”
“Yes, actually,” replies Quatre. Trowa laughs softly in the background. “No, Trowa.
No prostate examination until tonight.
Step away from the stethoscope.”
There’s a shadow over me. Guess it’s
Heero. I’m too tired to open my eyes and
check.
“He looks pretty happy on it, whatever.” That’s Wufei again. “Is he dreaming now? Look at the flickering
of his eyelids – the twitch of his fingers.
Exotic dreams… sounds damned good…”
I hear Heero’s voice quite clearly. It’s very soft. “The diagnosis was mine – the treatment under
my direction. All of it.” I know he bends
over me because I feel his hand on my shoulder and his lips brushing against my
ear. “He may well be dreaming. God knows, he needs the rest.”
There’s a very soft chuckle in the background – I
can’t say who it is. Or
even if I really heard it. But I’m
sure I feel a fingertip brushing along my chin; another palm caressing my hip
under the covers.
I sigh out loud.
Heero sounds far more confident now. “I told you.
Recovering well. It’s done him nothing but good.”
*
Just for that second, my peacefulness falters. I had been pretty ill – I had been
feverish. I had drunk several gallons (it seemed) of that sheep excrement
potion. So I might have been
disorientated, mightn’t I? My memory
might have played me cruel tricks; my consciousness might have been confused
between its two worlds. Relish might
have been stronger than reality.
I might have dreamed
– far more vividly than ever before.
And then I relax again, and dive deeper under the
covers.
I don’t care, y’know?
Some of you might think it was a dream – might deny it all happened in
Real Life. Feel free! You can argue that until the proverbial
cattle come home. Doesn’t bother me! I’m lying snug as a bug under my covers,
re-living each delicious second of the night I came back to my senses, and
clutching my own special bedtime plushy to my heart.
My special plushy. My souvenir. One single,
soft, silky, sticky, white, used and abused stocking…
Wrapped securely round my fist like
a lucky charm, infused with the aromas and flavours and intimate remembrances
of all the other guys.
Especially Heero. Smelling of his skin; whispering its memories
of caressing his legs; making my lips moist with the thought of licking at him;
making my heart throb again at the memory of watching him peel them off for my
delight. All my senses
embracing it.
Especially the sense of touch.
Rubbing at my nipples; stroking each teasing nub to an
almost painful arousal. Oh, and a
similar reaction elsewhere, too. Can’t
wait for my next dose of medicine – of Heero’s treatment!
It’s all real, y’see.
And the memories are mine. I rest
my case.
After all, if you can’t believe the evidence of your
own senses, what can you believe?
End