Somebody
Kandice: One-shot, AU. Inspired partly by and based loosely off of Reba McEntire's 'Somebody' but is not a songfic by any stretch of the imagination. Sap and Fluff, humor, mild angst... everything I guess, heavy Lemony citrus flavor. And Zechs bashing- literally - You've been warned.
And I don't own GW ( or Reba and her songs). So... don't sue, kay?
______________________________________________________________________________
Somebody
Trowa steamed as he plopped down in his usual seat. Today was not a very good day. First, his sister wanted to do the whole 'sisterly nag' thing and rant on him about settling down. Then, he'd gone to the corner drugstore for some aspirin to get rid of the migraine she'd given him. And there he found his boyfriend (for the month at least) snogging with some dark haired chick. He had hoped that maybe his relationship with Zechs would last more than just a couple of weeks, but he was grateful to find out now what a two-timing bastard he was- rather than a few months down the road.
Oh, Zech's had begged and pleaded with fake remorse. And the tramp he'd probably been shagging all along said something about a threesome. Trowa did not hit women as a general rule. But he'd certainly decked the platinum blond bastard hard enough to make up for it, though.
But that had done little to sooth his ego.
"Rough day, huh?" The waiter asked.
Trowa resisted the urge to scowl at the little blond thing. Trowa had been eating at this small diner at least three times a week for the past four months- since school started and he didn't have time to cook. And Quatre had been his usual waiter for those four months. Quatre was working through school since his father disinherited him about three years ago. Two years Trowa's junior, the blond was almost annoyingly chipper. And Trowa refused to analyze why he usually waited until Quatre's shift to eat. The blond merely remembered exactly how he liked his sandwiches and coffee was all.
"Understatement of the century," Trowa grumbled.
Quatre blinked. Usually his sexy, caramel haired customer was silent and didn't offer up any details willingly.
"Usual?"
"Yeah. Whatever."
Quatre waltzed, taking his orders back to the cook. It was a pretty dull night. A grand total of three customers right now. It was after nine anyway. Pretty close to closing. He wiped down the counter as he waited on Howard to fill the orders. He then prepped a coffee.
He settled the tuna-fish salad sandwich down in front of his rather introverted customer and then sat down opposite him as he slid the coffee across.
"I made it de-cafe," he warned. "I doubt you'd want a caffeine rush this late at night- no matter what mood you're in."
"Hn," Trowa grunted. While a good dose of caffeine might have given him a boost to get over this, he was quite grateful to Quatre. It wouldn't have boded well to be up all night. No. Not when his mind would likely sink to thinking about Zechs.
"Wanna talk?" Quatre asked with a charming, disarming smile. He kept one eye on the man in front of him, one eye cast about the diner, though he knew he probably wouldn't be needed for at least another ten minutes or so.
Green eyes glanced up to his. Quatre had to admit the man was rather gorgeous. Long lines, lean, well-built. Very sexy.
"Not really," was the curt reply. Quatre merely shrugged.
"They way you look about now, I think I can safely narrow it down to three possibilities. A:) Family Issues. And that, I can sympathize with. B:) Friend Issues. That, I really can sympathize with. My roommate Duo is more trouble than a cat at the CKC Dog Show.{1}" Quatre smirked when that one got him a barely repressed smile. Ah. An animal lover. "Or it could always be option C. And that is Lover Issues." The stoic man winced. A covered up reaction, but Quatre's quick eye caught it. "Ah. My money's on option C."
"Don't push it," was the response, emerald eyes downcast. "Please." Quatre blinked at the 'please'. The voice was soft, pleading, and quite unlike his usually quiet, even-toned customer. He reached across, and tapped his finger on the edge of the cup that Trowa's fingers were curled around. When those eyes looked back up to him, Quatre smiled softly.
"Alright. But just so you know... I've had my fair share of those, too."
He slid away, going back to him job.
No more words- except for the polite 'thank you' and 'come again' were spoken between them that night. Trowa left the diner ten minutes before Howard cut the lights out, calling out that it was quitting time.
Quatre started out the back door thinking about his gorgeous customer, but paused before he left the alleyway.
Just ahead, he could see Trowa. Arguing with someone.
"... one more chance," the other person was pleading. The voice labeled it as a man, although Quatre could pick out long platinum blond hair. Almost as long as his roommate Duo's hair.
"I said, no," was the vehemenent reply.
"Trow, it didn't mean anything. I swear it..."
"Go away Zechs. I'm done. Through. It's over. Go away unless you want me to puch you again!" Trowa hissed.
Quatre listened and looked. It seemed like this had been going on for a few minutes. And from the sounds of it, 'Zechs' wasn't going to give up easy. Quatre's heart ached for Trowa, so he did the first rational thing he could think of.
Okay, so it wasn't the brightest idea ever, or the most rational, but Quatre went with it anyway.
He waltzed right out of the spot he'd been hiding in the shadows, a bright smile on his face. The conversation paused when Quatre danced right in between the two arguing men (both quite stronger and taller than him).
"Told you it wouldn't take me but a few minutes, love," he smiled, wrapping his arms around Trowa and pulling him around quickly, so that Trowa's back was to the other blond- so that this Zechs couldn't see the evident surprise and confusion on Trowa's face. Quatre pulled Trowa's face down towards him, brushing his lips across his customer's cheek.
"Play along," he whispered softly into Trowa's ear. "Trust me... it does work."
He pulled back, and graced a soft kiss to Trowa's mouth before pulling back and letting the other go. And hopeing that it did indeed work.
"Trowa," Zechs asked in confusion. "Who is this?"
Quatre flashed a brilliant smile to him, though he let his eyes harden with cold hatred. "Ah. So you must be Zechs." He tilted his head to the side a bit, studying the man. "The way Trowa talked I was expecting someone a bit duller." Too true, Quatre thought. Trowa had- on the singular occasion he mentioned Zechs, about two weeks ago- made it out like the blonde was just a plain old guy. The man in front of him was anything but. Long, long silky looking platinum blond hair that glimmering in the dull streetlight. Crystaline blue eyes, fair skin. Everything about him, right down to his nose, suggested aristocracy. "Though I guess I can see it. That hair must be even more annoying than you said, Trowa. I guess some people like to look more feminine." And that was sort of the pot calling the kettle. Zech's might have had the hair, but Quatre was petite and slender with soft sandy blond hair and large blue-green eyes- the very picture of an effeminate male.
Zechs blinked, grabbing his hair, stroking it, obviously not taking into account Quatre's own feminine looks.
"But you said you liked the hair, Trowa. You said it was sexy."
Ah, Quatre thought. A weakness. Bingo.
Trowa shrugged, finally catching on. "I lied," he said smoothly. Oh, Quatre hummed. Smart boy.
"Really, have you not heard of a pair of scissors? I mean, it must be a bitch trying to make love with all that hair everywhere,right?" Quatre swallowed against the crude language. He'd been hanging around Duo too long.
Zechs looked affronted, scalded. "No one's ever complained before." He glared at Trowa. "And you sure as hell didn't complain when you were fucking me into that mattress."
"I probably wouldn't have either," Quatre admitted, repressing the shiver that accompanied a clear mental image of Trowa hovering over, fucking him into a mattress... or any other available surface. Always, but especially after his lover Wufei had dumped him and later found an older man, Quatre was very fussy over his love life... over who he befriended at all. And as such... it had been a very, very long time since he'd been laid. And his overactive imagination was happily reminding him of that. "I mean, with a body like that, I suppose anyone might be able to overlook emotional and mental flaws. Or bothersome hair."
"My hair is not bothersome," Zechs snarled. "And who the hell are you anyway, kid?"
Quatre smiled brightly. "I'm Quatre. And I guess I'm the one Trowa replaced your sorry asswith." And yes, Quatre emphasized the word 'ass' and let all the connotations and innuendos be painfully obvious to his adversary.
"Replace.... but... it's only been a few hours!"
Quatre shrugged. "You of all people should know how easy it is. I mean, you replaced Trowa before he even left," he pointed out. Zechs winced at the blow. Quatre was having fun baiting and tormenting the man, but he figured less is more. He reached up and pulled Trowa down to brush their lips together again.
"Let's go, lover," he told the brunette, slipping an arm around his waist. "I'm getting bored playing with the ex."
And neither looked back as they walked off.
__________________
"He's still following us isn't he?" Quatre whispered.
Trowa nodded. They were at Trowa's apartment complex now, and Zechs was still tagging along behind them in the shadows. Apparently, they must not have been very convincing. Trowa was still thinking over how much Quatre had seemed like a cat playing with a mouse. And he was trying not to think about how much those barely there kisses had excited him more than Zechs in full 'seduction mode'.
"Are you going to invite me in?" Quatre asked as Trowa slipped the key into the lock. Trowa merely opened the door and nodded Quatre in. But just before he let the door close, Trowa saw the elevator doors ding open, and a platinum blond get out.
Quatre shrugged out of his jacket, folding it over his arms.
"Nice place. The apartment I share with Duo is about half this size... at least." They were in a living room, and Quatre could make out a kitchen, a balcony door, a bathroom and a bedroom.
"He's outside the door," Trowa commented. Quatre looked out the peephole.
"So he is. Any ideas on how to get rid of him?"
Trowa shrugged. "That whole scene back there was your idea," he said, his voice low enough not to be heard by their eavesdropper.
"Hmm..." Quatre thought. "Maybe if he heard us having sex, he'd go away."
Trowa nearly choked. That was entirely too close to his fantasies. "Pardon?!?"
"Heard us. That doesn't mean we have to actually do it. Duo taught me that trick awhile back. Scared the living daylights out of me when I thought he and Heero were going at it... in my bedroom closet! {2}"
"You can pull that off?" Trowa asked skeptically.
"Sure. But it'll cost you."
Trowa thought for a moment. Getting rid of Zechs versus whatever the angelic little devil wanted. No contest.
"Name the price."
Quatre smirked. "Later. Right now, lets get rid of this jerk, shall we?" He spun around and drug Trowa back to the door. Turning around to face Trowa, he pulled them, letting his back thump against the door.
"Oh, gods," Quatre breathed. "Yes, right there!" He moaned loud enough to be heard by the man on the other side of the door.
Shit! Trowa was in desperate straits right now. How would that voice sound when really clouded by passion? He could just imagine it. The little blond was a very good actor.
Quatre raised an eyebrow. "You're supposed to play along," he whispered. "Or am I going to carry this whole thing by myself? Like that would be very believable."
"I..." Trowa gulped. He was much quieter and more reserved than his new blond friend. What the blond was doing went against his very personality. And Zechs knew what he was like in bed... he would know very well whether he was acting or not.
Quatre sighed. "Well, back to plan A," he quipped. It was Trowa's turn to raise his eyebrow. Quatre shrugged and pulled Trowa close to him, kissing him again. Only this time, it wasn't a quick brush of the lips. This time, Quatre crushed their lips together, He moved his lips insistently under Trowa's, running his tongue along Trowa's lower lip before plunging inside.
Now, Quatre knew he was a good kisser. He'd been told quite a few times, by people he trusted. So when he pulled back, the breathless groan Trowa let out made him smile.
"Plan A?" Trowa managed to breath when a few brain cells reactivated. Quatre smiled brightly.
"Plan B was actinglike we were making love. Plan A is..." He wrapped an arm around Trowa's neck, lifting up so that his body was flush against Trowa's and his lips were brushing against Trowa's. "Plan A is you and me actually making love."
"Wha...? But...."
"Shush," Quatre commanded. "Just go with the flow. What's wrong with a little fun?"
"Quatre," Trowa breathed against Quatre's neck. He wanted to stop, he knew why he should stop... but he simply couldn't stop kissing that soft skin. He couldn't tear his hands away. "I just broke up with him today. I... I don't think I can handle another relationship like that right now. Not so soon."
"That's comparing me to Zechs," Quatre growled, pulling back so he could stare into Trowa's eyes. "I resent that. I will not cheat on you Trowa... not while we're together. And as for how long we're together... well, I'll leave that up to you. As long as you want. Weather that's just tonight... or two years.... or however long you like. I'll take whatever time you'll give me. Believe that." He pulled Trowa back down for another kiss, and was pleased to know that he'd said all the right things.
Trowa's lips against his neck. Trowa's finger's tugging at his shirt. Trowa's thigh pressing against his aching groin. So many pinpoints of fire, from so many sources... but with only one cause. Trowa.
Soon, the moans that filled the air were not faked, but real. The gasps for breath were authentic, and the soft thudding of Quatre's back against the door went completely unnoticed by the rooms two ocupants. All thoughts of acting, of their likely eavesdropper vanished.
Eventually, Quatre's shirt wound up on the living room floor alongside Trowa's. Quatre's pants ended up on the hallway desk, Trowa's in the bedroom floor. Clothing was shed as the two made their way towards the bed, until when at last Quatre fell backwards onto the warm cotton quilt with Trowa over top of him, kissing his breath away, they were striped down to nothing.
Quatre stroked his hands down Trowa's sides, up his chest, brushing over caramel nipples. Trowa busied his own fingers tormenting Quatre's erection.
"Oh, Trowa, hurry," Quatre begged. "I need you."
"Shhh," Trowa comforted, leaning up and over, fumbling with the drawer to the bedside stand. He withdrew a small tube of lube and a foil packet, dropping them on the bed before returning to kiss Quatre's mouth, neck, ears... anyplace within reach.
"Trowa," Quatre pleaded. "Please." He arched up off the bed, pressing into his would-be lover.
Finally Trowa took pity on the blond, reaching for the lube. Quatre tried to be patient; he really did, though it was very, very hard for him. But the moment that Trowa's lube-slick finger pressed up into him, he knew he would be grateful for what little patience he did have. It had been entirely too long since he'd made love. The small tinge of discomfort that usually accompanied the penetration was amplified into a not so small burn. But the burn lessened as Trowa worked his finger in and out, spreading the lube. Eventually Trowa added a second finger, and finally a third one. And slowly, the discomfort disappeared and Quatre found himself pushing down on Trowa's fingers, trying to draw them deeper.
"Now," he said. "Please, now."
Trowa remained silent this time, instead opting to reach for the condom. He tore the package open and slid the laytex on. Emerald green eyes locked with Aquamarine blue ones as Trowa slowly, so slowly pushed forward. Nothing was hidden as they came together. The quick flash of discomfort across Quatre's face, quickly replaced by ecstasy. The small moan of pleasure from Trowa as he sank in to the hilt. Every emotion, every expression was visible. Every gasp, every moan, was heard. Every kiss, every fleeting touch, every soft caress, was felt.
The pleasure seemed to build and build until nothing was left of themselves but masses of raw nerves- a bomb waiting as the fuse slowly burned away. And then... release, sweet release. Trowa crested over that razor sharp edge, tumbling headlong into oblivion. Mere moments later, Quatre followed, letting his own orgasm wash over him.
Trowa tried vainly to catch his breath as he lay, spent and sated, beside his new lover.
"Shower?" Quatre asked distantly, running a hand up and down Trowa's arm where it was draped over him.
"Later," was the simple reply.
Quatre smiled, but didn't argue. "Fine. But when I wake up sticky... you're going to help me wash up, right?
"Goes without saying," Trowa said.
"Good. Then wake me when mornin' gets here, 'cause I'm tired."
"Good idea."
And they slept, with pleasant dreams that never veered towards the sullen blond that had sat out in the hallway and listened to every noise that had carried through the wall. Neither woke until the sun broke through the early morning clouds and beamed a shaft of bright light through the crack between the curtains, falling across the bed.
Trowa woke first, the light and the stickyness of his body making for an unpleasant awakening until he remembered the night before, and noticed the warm body pressed close to his. Deciding to take Quatre up on the offer of a shower, he decided to awaken his lover with kisses feathered across cheeks, down a neck, over a nose.
Aquamarine eyes blinked open to gaze contentedly at him as a hazy smile drifted across those lips that Trowa leaned down to kiss.
"So," Trowa said, brushing a strand of sweat-sticky hair from Quatre's face as he leaned back. "Did you ever decide what your price was? What you wanted for helping me get rid of Zechs?"
"Hmm... that depends," Quatre said seriously. "What we did... was it just to get rid of Zechs?"
Trowa read into the emotion evident on the small blonde's face, in those expressive eyes. He dropped a kiss to Quatre's brow.
"I stopped thinking about Zechs around the first time you kissed me," he replied honestly. Quatre's returning smile was bright as the sunlight streaming in. He leaned up, bringing his lips to Trowa's before speaking.
"Then I think I'll settle for that shower you promised me. We'll see where that takes us."
As Trowa followed his lover out of the bed, he thought about how much Quatre might be different from Zechs. Those small things he'd picked up on during all those times at the diner. The grace and humility, the sweetness and the strength. The intelligence and the heart. It all added up to a package that Trowa knew would probally take him ages to unwrap. A person with whom no two days would be exactly the same. A person whom he could love.
And he remembered Quatre saying, last night as they kissed, that this relationship would be up to him, including the length. A few days? A few months? Or maybe even a few years?
Trowa saw Quatre smiling back at him and amended himself.
Maybe forever might be long enough.
______________________________________________________________________________
Kandice: Well... my first lemon... how was it? Please let me know. I need to know how I can improve. And I know I need to. What did you like? What didn't you like? Pass or Fail? A+ or F? Please, review.
FOOTNOTES:
{1} Alright, that one's just funny, but I guess it may be a sort of inside joke. You really had to have been there for that. My cat, Jinx- and yes, she does live up to her name, stowed away in the car- without my knowledge, I SWEAR- when we went to take Kassidy's registered, full blooded German Shepard to a dog show they were having at the local fall festival. Let's just say that one cat, streaking through a high school gymnasium full of dogs, causes quite a stir.
{2} Okay... that one really happened to me, as well. My best friend Dana got together with my other friend, Chris, after a party at my house about two years ago. Needless to say, walking into your room and hearing a bunch of really obvious noises, grunts, moans, and gasps coming from your closet leads you to a certain conclusion. Only... it was all a joke. Dana still laughs at me.