Fitting Rooms
~3~x~4~x~3~
"What about this one?"
Leaning against a wall near the large three-pane mirror Quatre stood in front of, Trowa's eyes moved slowly over him, head to foot, assessing yet another suit.
"Face me."
Quatre adjusted his light grey tie before turning as requested, shivering under the unexpectedly intense gaze of his partner. Oh, yes. Trowa liked this one. The suit not only clung to his body in an extremely flattering way, sitting perfectly on his shoulders and tapering down to hug his slim hips, but the rich navy made the blue of his eyes absolutely shine.
"I like it. Though you do realize you're almost every straight woman and gay mans' wet dream?" Trowa purred, stealing up behind him and sliding his hands over his hips, whispering into his ear, "You make my job as a bodyguard very difficult."
Quatre shivered at the hot breath against his flesh, glancing around for the clerk who was retrieving another suit for him, his attention dangerously drawn almost entirely to the hungry gaze and touch of his partner, hormones reined in only by the truth that it would make unwanted headlines should anyone find him being fondled so openly by his decidedly male lover.
And just before he was about to give in, turning for a kiss, Trowa patted his shoulders and stepped smoothly away, the clerk walking up to them and holding out a dark blue-grey suit, oblivious.
"Is this what you had in mind? We have lighter and darker shades of this style, but I thought this might be more along the tastes you've displayed so far," the tall man explained as he looked over the suit Quatre was wearing as if verifying his suggestion was indeed correct. The blond turned, casting a glance at Trowa who stood with a small smile only Quatre could discern before testing the fabric between his fingers.
"Yes, I'll try this. Thank you. Also, could you find me a few different ties to match? Preferably with grey and silver. I'd also like to try a similar style of the suit I'm wearing in a darker shade, and also in a few different tan or beige shades if you would."
When Quatre flashed his brilliant smile, the clerk gave a polite nod, eager to fulfill the desired requests of his most esteemed customer.
"Of course. Right away, Mr. Winner."
Trowa's wolfish grin danced in his eyes, though only the slight quirk of his lips betrayed his extreme delight. Quatre only made such extensive requests when he was either in a hurry or, as he suspected now, ready for a bit of intensive PDA.
"Let me help you with that jacket," Trowa voiced, scanning the room and feeling confident they could snag a few uninterrupted moments to themselves as he took hold of Quatre's tie and led him into the large, elegant, dark wood dressing room, instantly pressing his lover to the wall and ravaging his lips and mouth with teeth and tongue.
Panting softly, Quatre had to pull away, biting his lower lip to stop the groan as Trowa's hand found his hardening length, stroking it firmly through his pants. Trowa grinned softly, loving to test his blond angel's restraint, nipping his ear and trailing wet kisses down his neck.
"Trowa…" Quatre whispered – part demand, part plea – as he felt those long, skilled fingers working his pants open. Within just a few movements the zipper was down and his cock was freed from his briefs, drooling excitedly as he took several deep breaths to try and calm himself.
Trowa loved it. Adored how his lover could never completely hold back the sounds of his pleasure, kneeling down before him and licking softly at the silken, salty tip, gripping and lightly pumping his blush-darkened shaft to lure out a few more drops of precum.
Quatre watched him with rapt attention, shivering at the view of Trowa's tongue moving up and down his pulsing length. It was too much, too good. Eyes closing and head tilting back, he tangled his fingers into his lover's soft auburn hair, panting as his cockhead was bathed with long, reverent licks.
Not wanting to rush things but knowing they didn't have much time, Trowa sucked him into his mouth, tugging lightly on his balls as he began bobbing his head in a lazy rhythm, laving the hot skin with the perfect roughness of his tongue, just barely letting his teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh.
Quatre sucked in a breath, panting harder, hands gripping Trowa's hair almost painfully as he bit back a gasp as he was swallowed all the way deep, Trowa's hands moving to his ass, grasping it hard, urging him silently with several pointed pushes and pulls to fuck his mouth.
Now biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Quatre succumbed to the proffered hot, wet sanctuary of his mouth, thrusting his hips in several shallow movements, giving a muffled, broken cry as he ascended all too quickly to his peak, body holding rigid for breathless moments until his muscles shuddered and he released in hot jets onto Trowa's throat and tongue.
Trowa easily drank him down, sucking hard until he was sure Quatre's cock was completely spent, licking his lips as he then rose up, holding his lover in his arms and nuzzling his cheek as Quatre breathed deeply to try and steady himself.
"Just wait until we get home," Trowa whispered into his ear, giving it a playful nip that tingled down Quatre's spine before he slipped back outside, leaving his blond lover to recuperate before presenting himself once more.
And just as Trowa reached the wall where he had been leaning previously, the clerk returned with two suits and several different patterned ties. He gave the man a single, acknowledging glance, gaze shifting to Quatre who appeared a few moments later, the next suit as perfect as the last on his beautiful body.
"Are you feeling all right, Mr. Winner? You look a bit flushed," the clerk observed, and Trowa dropped his head, hiding his grin behind a thankfully generous fall of bangs.
"I'm fine, but thank you. I'll take these two suits and come back tomorrow. I've had something important come up," he apologized, hoping the clerk didn't feel he'd wasted his time, but the man nodded and retrieved the suits, his demeanor no different than before.
Relieved, he glanced at Trowa, smiling.
"Nice play on words," Trowa commented as the clerk walked away, grinning softly as Quatre gave his hand a brief, affectionate squeeze before returning to the fitting room. He paused, glancing over his shoulder, paralyzing Trowa with a wanton look of lust as he reached for the door handle.
"As you said, just wait until we get home."
~3~x~4~x~3~
END