by Zelly
Warnings: yaoi
(TrowaxQuatre), implied sex (SEX! I SAID SEX!! HAHAHAHA...SEX! c.c};;),
lots of naughty language, extremely STUPID (but it's intentional, of course!
^_~})
Disclaimer:
Gundam Wing is (c) Bandai/Sunrise blah blah blah. the story concept is
(c) MAD.
* * * * *
Once upon a
time, in the not-too-distant future (I hope ^^};;), there lived an extremely
sexy acrobat named Trowa Barton. He was like, really sexy, with beautiful
emerald green eyes and rich brown hair that completely obscured one side
of his face in a weird but sexy unibang that also kind of stuck outwards
and looked like it was stiff and full of gel but it was actually really
soft and beautiful. Oh, and he was sexy. Really, really, REALLY sexy. ROWR.
This really
yummy acrobat also happened to work in a circus. He would put on a clown
half-mask, on the side of his face that wasn't concealed by the wonderful
flowing curtain of dark hair. Then he would do lovely acrobat stuff that
showed off every inch of his beautiful lean, muscular body, glistening
with sweat like a swimmer, fresh from the pool. *slobberdrool* ...Although
sometimes, he'd just put on a baggy green outfit and big funny shoes and
do stupid stuff, like be strapped to a board while his sister threw knives
at him.
Despite the
fact that Trowa was extremely babelicious, he was single and very lonely.
Lots of girls were constantly flocking to him, but he just wasn't interested...in
ANY of them! Catherine, his sister, constantly yelled at him and teased
him for it, trying to encourage him to go out with some of them, to which
he would reply coolly (in that deep, sexy voice of his), "I'm homosexual,
Catherine."
"So go to a
gay bar!" she would retort hotly, and storm off.
Gay bars suck,
though.
"I don't want
to be picked up by strangers at a bar," Trowa murmured to a lion one day.
"I just want someone to understand me."
The lion snarled
at him in response.
"Fine."
Trowa shook
his head, and walked back into the emptying tent.
Suddenly, a
mesmerizing sight caught his eye. Making his way through the crowd of people
exiting the tent was an extremely cute and cuddly-looking boy.
He was the most
beautiful thing Trowa ever saw. He was really small, maybe about 5'2" or
5'3", with short blonde hair. Ragged blonde bangs fell into a pair of large
blue eyes.
Trowa sighed.
Love at first sight.
As he continued
to stare at the boy, he suddenly seemed to catch sight of what he was wearing:
a PINK blouse! Trowa's prettified green eyes turned into huge red hearts.
But how to get
his attention? Better try the never-fail accidental bump trick, Trowa thought,
his heart beating fast.
So, Trowa took
a deep breath, and made his move. He started walking. And when he was close
enough to the boy...THUMP! He "accidentally" bumped into him.
"Oh!"
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right."
His voice was really cute, high-pitched enough that it sounded almost like
a girl's voice, but not TOO girly. Like a girl with a deep voice. Plus,
like Trowa, he didn't have that stupid lispy accent that stereotypical
gays had!
The boy smiled
at him sweetly, and Trowa melted. "Hey, you're that acrobat, right?"
Trowa composed
himself. "Yes."
The boy fiddled
nervously with the collar of his blue vest. "You were, uh...really good
tonight..."
"Thank you,"
Trowa replied, feigning nonchalance. He held out his hand. "My name is
Trowa. Trowa Barton. You are...?"
"Quatre Raberba
Winner," the boy replied, shaking Trowa's outstretched hand. "Pleased to
meet you, Trowa...I've, um, been watching your performances for a long
time. You're really good..."
"Really?"
"Yeah..." Quatre
trailed off as Trowa stepped closer to him, his emerald eyes boring into
Quatre's aquamarine pools. The blonde blushed cutely.
"So, Quatre..."
Trowa began, slowly rubbing his thumb across the back of the small, delicate
hand still gripped in his. Quatre blushed even further. "...are you doing
anything tonight?"
"No," Quatre
replied with a nervous smile.
"Would you like
to accompany me, then? Sitting in bars alone is both depressing and dangerous."
"Sure, I'd love
to."
So off they
went, to talk over drinks and get better acquanted. And, I might add, they
hit it off. They hit it off so well, in fact, that later that night they
headed back to Trowa's place for some, uh, acrobatics of their own. In
bed.
And as the days
and weeks passed by, their love for each other deepened with each sunset.
"Oh, Trowa..."
Quatre chirped happily as they ran towards each other through a beautiful
flower field, arms outstretched. "Isn't it great to be young and American...and
IN LOVE?"
"But Cat," Trowa
remarked as his cuddly cupcake glomped him, knocking him to the ground,
"you're Arabian, not American."
"Who cares?
Make love to me."
Trowa shook
his head. "Last time I ravished you, you said you were sore for days."
"So? It's not
my fault you're so sexy and well-endowed!" Quatre retorted, glaring down
at his beau.
"Oh, so it's
MY fault, then?!"
"Yes, it is,
Allah be damned!" Quatre growled. "If you weren't so fucking sexy, I wouldn't
be so horny all the time!"
"And it's BECAUSE
of the fact that you're so irresistably ADORABLE that I can't hold back
and I fuck you so hard you complain about your cute little ass hurting!"
"Don't put all
the blame on ME! It's not MY fault you forget to grease up, Trowa!"
"Well, you COULD
remember to BUY lube! FUCK YOU!"
"That's the
PROBLEM!" Quatre cried, feeling his eyes fill with tears. "You WON'T! Even
though the time and setting right now is perfect, with the Sun going down
and the crickets chirping and the flowers--" He cut off suddenly, bright
blue eyes sparkling as he squealed in delight. "DARLING! Our first fight!"
Trowa's face
broke out into a soft smile. He wrapped his arms around his little kitten
and rolled over, pinning him underneath the acrobat's long, muscular body.
"I love you, Quatre," he murmured, nuzzling the smaller boy's neck. His
long bang tickled Quatre's skin, causing him to giggle and squirm beneath
him.
"So does that
mean you'll ravish me on the grass now?" Quatre beamed up at him, eyes
shining with tears of joy.
"Of course I
will, my little loveycakes."
So they happily
fornicated in the lovely flower field.
* * * * *
Two hours later,
when the two boys were lying on the grass staring up at the twinkling stars
together, Trowa popped the question.
Actually, first
he reached into the pocket of his skintight white jeans (which were lying
in a heap with their other clothes), and pulled out a velvet box.
Quatre looked
over when he felt his lover moving beside him, and Trowa quickly hid it
behind his back. The Arabian cutie frowned. "What are you doing, Trowa?"
Trowa held out
the box in front of him, and opened it to reveal a lovely ring. "Will you
marry me, Quatre?"
Quatre squealed
with joy as Trowa slid the band onto his ring finger, and held it up to
look at it. "I will! Oh, Trowa, I love you."
"I love you
too, Quatre."
"Make love to
me."
So they did,
even though they had just finished and Trowa forgot to use lubricant for
the thousandth time. But it was so beautiful and romantic and happy that
it didn't matter to either of them at that moment.
* * * * *
"My butt hurts,"
Quatre whined as they walked towards Trowa's house.
"I told you,
Cat," Trowa muttered, shaking his head. He crumpled up the wrapper from
his hamburger and threw it on the ground.
"Trowa!" Quatre
exclaimed, shocked. "You can't do that! It's LITTERING!"
"So?"
"That's BAD
for the environment, damn it! Pick it up!"
"Okay, okay."
Trowa bent down to pick up the wrapper. Since he was wearing those skintight
white pants, it gave Quatre a lovely view of his nice ass and long legs.
He sighed dreamily as Trowa threw the crumpled paper into the wastebasket.
He linked arms
with Trowa after the extremely sexy unibanged boy stood up. "Where are
we going, anyway?"
"To meet my
family," Trowa replied, kissing his fiancee on the cheek.
"Oh. Can we
make love after that? Watching you get that trash off the ground..."
Trowa sighed.
"We'll see." He never dreamed that his cuddly little snuggywoogums would
be such a nymphomaniac. Oh well, it did more good than harm.
* * * * *
"Trowa! Who
is this you've brought with you?" Catherine beamed as Trowa walked up with
Quatre.
"Catherine,
this is the boy I am going to marry," Trowa replied matter-of-factly.
"Marry? ...
MARRY?! Is he rich! He better be rich, god damn it!"
"Uh...yes, I'm
rich." Quatre blushed.
Catherine leered
down at him. "What's your name, young man?!"
"Oh..." Quatre
smiled. "My name is Quatre Raberba Nahestial Peetil Ahmed--"
"Okay, I get
the point!"
"--Jahal Kehmeed
Abdul Ramak Winner!"
"That's a longass
name," Catherine growled.
