Heero's Week

Quatre's turn

+ Wednesday Morning +

Heero woke up early, around six AM. That was usual. What was not, he noticed after a few seconds of bleary blinking at the clock, was that he'd only been supposed to have a two-hours nap from seven to nine PM the day before, and then tinker some more with that new Trojan virus he was perfecting. He was really quite nonplussed at first, then decided that it didn't matter much. It wasn't as if he would have an occasion to use the Trojan before at least a month and it was already practically perfect. He only slept six hours a night most of the time and it was fine by him, but he must have needed the rest. He supposed having sex was more taxing than he had believed.

He stretched his arms, then his back, then his legs--oww. Still vaguely sore. Maybe it would be a good idea to take a hot shower before doing his morning routine. At this hour, he probably wouldn't have to fight for the bathroom; Wufei would be outside meditating --that or watching the sun rise, or maybe these two occupations were one and the same, but that was a bit too spiritual for him-- and of the other three, only Quatre would rise so early, and he was usually quick.

He arrived to the bathroom just in time to see Quatre walking down the stairs. The blond teenager paused as he heard him and smiled, somewhat sleepily.

"G'morning, Heero. I'm going to make some coffee," he informed him between two yawns.

Heero nodded his greetings, vaguely amused that Quatre still wasn't awake enough to be embarrassed in his presence. Since the start of his week, the blond pilot's fair skin had always been tinted varying shades of pinkish anytime they were in the same room.

Since he had nothing pressing to do today, he took a long shower--at least fifteen minutes-- and as warm as he could stand it. Some of the towels were new and decadently fluffy. For some reason he indulged himself and did not take an old, scratchy one, then half-heartedly rationalized it by deciding that it was because new towels dry more efficiently. His boxers were clean so he put them back on, but his tanktop was starting to stink so after deliberation, and careful sniffing, he dropped it in the laundry basket. He wasn't thinking very fast, but he couldn't have said if that was because of the warm shower or the oversleeping. Coffee was needed.

He trudged down the stairs, the white towel around his neck to keep his hair from dripping water all over him, and went to the kitchen. Quatre was still sitting at the table, reviewing stuff on his laptop. It was sleek and black and looked very modern--like still-a-prototype-modern. Heero's laptop may be beaten up and built from scratch, but it was way better and he was not envious. Heero was having childish thoughts. He decided to have his coffee ultra-black.

"Hel--lo, Heero." The brown-haired pilot wondered if Quatre had swallowed one of his biscuits wrong. For a second it had sounded like he was choking.

Ahh, coffee. Bitter and strong enough to dissolve his stomach; just as he liked it. "Morning, Quatre."

"Uhh-- please sit down. I think I made too much toast, do you want some?" the blond asked urbanely. Heero looked up from his coffee mug, wondering why Quatre sounded like mister manners suddenly.

Winner was staring at his chest. Heero looked down--nothing special there. His skin was still a bit damp and flushed from the bath, but there was no sudden appearance of an eventual third nipple that would cause him to stare--oh. He looked up to Quatre's face to see that the blond one was now looking at his hips. He knew that there were finger-shaped bruises showing over the waistline of his boxers.

The pilots decided together to pretend that neither had noticed the other noticing.

"Do you want some butter?" Quatre asked politely as Heero sat down in front of him.

"No thanks."

Heero ate his toast and downed his mug while Quatre sipped at his absently while reading his screen. Then Heero rubbed his hair dry while waiting for his second toast to jump out of the toaster while Quatre stared at his screen, except his eyes weren't moving anymore. Then he slammed the laptop shut decisively and looked up, giving Heero a "businessman" look.


The brown-haired pilot gave him a suspicious look. "... Yes?"

"I have a meeting this morning with Ibrahim-- one of the Maganacs. I'll be back here around two PM. Will you be available?"

With that voice Heero could have thought Quatre wanted to talk about buying his company from him, except he didn't have a company to his name and if Quatre lived old enough to work with WEI, his hostile takeovers would probably come with less warning.

Heero didn't bother asking for what. It was rather obvious, really. "Fine. I'll try to make sure I'm not busy with someone else."

Quatre's eyes gleamed with a light that reminded him of the ZERO system. Heero noted to himself to keep the sarcasm to a minimum as long as Blondie hadn't gotten laid.

"I would be disappointed if you only tried, Heero," Quatre commented with what Duo had termed his iron-hand-in-velvet-glove voice.

Heero wondered if he'd attack the pilot who committed the mistake of stealing his turn and resolved to hide a few hours before Quatre was due back to make sure that no bloodshed would ensue over him.

"Ryoukai," he replied. The ZERO gleam disappeared.

"Great! Thank you, Heero." He pushed his chair back and got up, giving him a dazzling smile. "I'll see you this afternoon." And with that, he picked up his laptop and strode out.

Heero stared at the coffee mug for a second, then shook his head and went to refill it.


From the incline of the roof, Heero had a good view of half of the grounds. He spotted the bike Quatre had borrowed from Trowa the second it appeared on the path between the trees. Since he was still feeling sort of put out by the way Quatre had ordered him to be there and ready, he just shrugged and kept on exercising. He wasn't quite finished with his one hundred push-ups yet.

Two minutes later, the skylight he had used to climb up there was pushed open and a blond head appeared through it, shortly followed by the rest of the teenager it belonged to. Heero's eyebrow twitched.

"How did you find me?" he asked, annoyed but also secretly impressed at the speed with which he had been located.

He was now doing sit-ups, hands crossed behind his neck, feet wedged under the ledge of the skylight. When he relaxed against the warm tiles of the roof, his head was lower than his legs by almost fifteen inches.

"Uh-- I ... just did," Quatre explained after a few seconds as he brushed a hand against his chest absently. The other hand was clenched on the ledge, its knuckles white.

In between two sit-ups, Heero noticed that Quatre had been staring at the way his tanktop rode up.

"You just did," he repeated patiently, waiting for more explanation on the way he'd been found.

"Yes, I just did," the blond one repeated absently.


"You have brown nipples--uhm."

At first Heero wondered, absurdly, if Quatre's fair skin couldn't take the sun. But there wasn't so much sun. Then he called himself stupid for not getting that Quatre was blushing, even though he had rarely seen anyone blush that explosively before.

The third and fourth thought came on each other's heels. 'He's blushing because he was thinking of my nipples--' '--he wants me.'

Heero sat up, because the blood was rushing to his chee-- head. It was rushing to his head, because of the position he'd been in and not because he was blushing, because Quatre -- pure, idealistic little Quatre -- found him desirable.

Not only convenient.

He lowered his eyes, reached out to grab the ledge with his hand. He was thinking a mile a minute. Except it was going nowhere, because every time it felt like it was going somewhere he felt Quatre's eyes on him and he had to start again.

Then he put a knee on the tiles to push himself up, and decided that he needed to buy newer shirts, ones that wouldn't be all distended by time and use; this time, Quatre was staring down the neck hole. Heero felt his eyes like he could have felt the wind; it was making his flesh break out in goosebumps.

He stood up, leaning forward slightly to keep his balance, his fingertips on the ledge, and looked on his side at his teammate. "Are you gay?"

That was the only reason he'd found for Quatre to actually look like he ...well ... liked what he saw. (Who was Heero to judge if Quatre liked them scarred and wiry as hell?) Wufei had used him as an outlet for his frustration, only touching his body when necessary, and Heero felt like Trowa had been more turned on by the voyeurism and the feeling of transgression than by Heero himself. Neither of them had looked at him with those hungry eyes.

Quatre's hand caught his tanktop and pulled--he heard the fabric tear slightly-- and then there was a mouth plastered against his chest, just over one of his nipples. The cloth went wet and he felt a bite through the thin cotton -- Quatre's other hand slid under his tanktop, up his ribcage, his fingers brushed Heero's other nipple-- Heero's feet slid on the tile as he started and he nearly fell head first through the skylight, knocking Quatre along. They both threw their hand forward to lean against the other side of the skylight --Heero's shirt tore a bit farther when the blond pilot wrenched his hand free-- and then they both froze, almost out of balance, listening to the tiles clanging down the roof, banging against the gutters before plummeting down the side of the house. Then there was a loud noise of stone against metal.

The boys exchanged a guilty look.

"Where did you park Trowa's bike again?"


A minute later, they were in Quatre's bedroom, the door locked, and the blinds drawn. A weak light filtered through the slats. It wasn't dark enough to hide anything inside, so Heero concluded that it was just an attempt to keep the outside, well... out.

His own thoughts were still circling inside his head, unable to come out, faster and faster and getting tangled in the process. He caught one as it was flying by and ran with it, hoping to untangle the rest.

"Quatre, you didn't answer earlier. Are you gay?"

"I thought it was obvious," the blond one answered as he turned around, casual but for the hands smoothing out his pants nervously.

"... so you are."

"Yes. Yes, I am. Will that be a problem?"

Heero gave him a suspicious look. "It depends. Was that why you suggested this arrangement?"

Quatre frowned at him, as if disappointed that he could doubt him that way. "No. It was because we needed to find a way to evacuate our tensions, and I honestly believed that this had a chance to work. It also had a pretty big chance to fail, but no one had a better idea, if I recall right."

Heero nodded thoughtfully.

"... Of course, having free access to four extremely handsome young men is one side-effect my body isn't complaining about," Winner added with a nervous chuckle.

"Four?" Heero snorted uneasily. "I suppose the other three aren't so bad, but--"

Quatre glared back.

"Stop that self-deprecating bullshit. You're sexy as hell."

Heero looked down at himself dubiously. "I'm scrawny--"

Quatre made a noise of disapproval and tugged up the bottom of his tanktop. "I prefer to think of it as lean. You're slim, but I'm not seeing your ribs here," he added, his fingers drawing over his abdominal muscles. "See? You even have a six-pack."

Feeling awkward, Heero didn't answer. They stood face to face, Quatre's hands on Heero's hips, both looking at the other's chest to not meet each other's eyes-- and in Quatre's case, to try and catch more glimpses of his dark nipples, probably.

"Have you ever... had sex before?"

"Not really," Quatre answered after a second of hesitation. "Not all the way, I mean. No penetration. But I did experiment a little with friends."

"Oh, good," said Heero. At least one of them knew what to do.

Quatre was giving him such a puzzled look that he wondered if he had finished his thought out loud and not noticed it. "But I thought... Did none of the others...?"

Heero shrugged. "Take advantage of the agreement? Yes, some of them did. They just didn't bother with a lot of preliminaries, which doesn't seem to be the approach you prefer."

"Oh," Quatre replied, his eyes lighting up with understanding. They probably hadn't taken the time to savor the encounter at all. He wondered which of them had already done it. Duo, probably, he was always going on about how horny he was... and he couldn't see Wufei shedding his inhibitions that fast. Hmm. My, Trowa and Heero together was something he would have liked to see... "You don't have to reciprocate anything, but I won't mind if you do," he explained, knowing that Heero liked having clear instructions. "So long as you tell me if you don't like anything I'm doing."

"I don't need to like it--" Heero protested by habit. He fell silent when he noticed the stern look Quatre was giving him.

"I happen to like it better when my partner is having fun. Let's say it's my personal kink. So I'm going to make sure that you have fun," he told him in a firm tone, nudging him toward the bed. Heero had nowhere else to go, so he sat down. It felt weird to let someone undress him, so he pushed Quatre's hands away and did it himself, getting rid of his shirt as he kicked his shoes off, then squirmed out of his shorts, trying not to look up at the blond one who was still standing by the bed and looking down at him. He didn't want to see his expression.

He was level with his crotch, though, and it was hard not to notice the quickly growing tent.

Quatre had indicated that he wouldn't mind some initiative on his part, right? And he was getting bored with being used as a blow-up doll. Maybe doing something apart from reacting to what was being done to him would make the encounter more interesting.

He reached out toward Quatre's waist and started to unbutton his pants.


He looked up. Quatre was biting his lip and staring at him, his eyes wide.

"What?" It couldn't be such a problem, he hadn't been told to stop yet-- something wet and warm was poking at his palm.

He looked down at the blond boy's briefs. They were almost see-through around the tip of his erection... Heero decided that it was flattering. Sort of. Well, unless Winner was just THAT frustrated. He kept unbuttoning his teammate's pants with hands that almost didn't shake. Still not that sure that he should be touching him that intently, he tried to avoid any real contact, but couldn't prevent the cloth from rubbing and pulling against Quatre's erection.

"Heero, if you don't stop I'm going to come in my underwear," Quatre informed him in a wavering voice as his hands closed gently around Heero's, giving them a light squeeze, and then just held them for a few seconds. The brown-haired boy looked up, confused.

Quatre pulled one of his hands up and brushed his lips against the inside of his wrist. Heero froze.

"Relax, Heero. This is not a race, and I plan on savoring it. You."

His fingers slid up Heero's arms, slowly, softly, followed his collarbone to the hollow in the middle, then brushed up his throat. They only gave the smallest nudge before Heero's head tilted back obediently. The Japanese pilot wondered at his comrade's ability to suggest things so clearly with barely a touch.

And then Quatre leaned forward and caressed his offered throat with his lips, and Heero caught himself shivering.

"Feels good?"

"... Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "But-- not enough."

Quatre chuckled as he kissed his neck again. "Be patient," he advised in a whisper, his breath cooling the patch of skin he had just warmed with his damp lips. "This is..." Another kiss, a bit lower, a flick of tongue over his collarbone. "...like a trip." Kiss, lick, kiss, down Heero's chest. "What's important is the journey," nibble, nuzzle, another wet kiss. "Not the goal."

By the time Quatre's journey brought him to one of his nipples, Heero was about ready to grab a fistful of that blond hair that was tickling his chest to pull him closer. Quatre's lips and his hands on Heero's knees were the only point of contact they had, and while usually physical contact bothered him, it was something else when he was aroused and needed stimulation.

...Not that he was especially aroused, of course, but the anticipation and waiting were annoying. Quatre's touch promised... things, and it only gave the barest of tastes. He was such a tease-- OW!

Winner licked at the bitten nipple, then started to suckle with enthusiasm. Heero miraculously found a little more patience to deal with him.

It felt good finally, warm, wet lips around his nipple, but his patience started to wear thin again when the initial hunger in the other boy's actions disappeared for more gentle licks and suckling. He fidgeted, reluctant to ask Quatre to change the way he was doing it. After all, it didn't feel bad, just not ...fulfilling enough.

Winner looked up, his blue-green eyes questioning. Heero noticed that his fair skin was flushed and his pupils dilated, and somehow it made him squirm more.


"I'm not that frail, you know," he mumbled, unwilling to come out and say clearly what he wanted.

"I'm not coddling you, Heero, I just-- ooh."

Who the hell had let Duo teach Quatre to smirk like that? It was creepy--OW! Bitten again!

"You're hardening, Heero," Winner observed smugly. "Do you like that?"

Heero scowled, blushing slightly. "No. ... well... Yes--no." It was painful, but better than his teasing. Yes, that was it.

Okay, it wasn't a bad sort of painful. Which threw him for a loop as he still had trouble accepting that bad and painful could be total opposites.

"Yes or no?"

"... I guess-- I don't mind."

The blond teenager chuckled and started to nibble a path to his other nipple. Heero watched with interest, absently noticing that his heartbeat was starting to speed up.

"Lean back on your hands, Heero," his teammate ordered, his voice still low and not quite soft. He obeyed, and kept on watching through half-lidded eyes, as Winner seemed to want to cover his whole chest in bites and kisses.

It was only when his tongue abandoned Heero's abdominal muscles to trace the dip between his belly and his hipbone that the Japanese teen understood what he intended to do.

"What are you--" Well, he knew what he was doing, but not WHY! "Why?"

"It feels good?" Quatre answered a second before he kissed his belly. Heero's muscles --and his cock-- stiffened involuntarily.

"But you don't need to-- to make me -- to do that!"

Quatre paused, and Heero waited, his body whimpering in loss but his sense of justice satisfied. Even though he was eage--curious, even though he was curious about how it felt to... to... have someone's mouth there, he didn't see what sort of pleasure his teammate could receive from doing that for him. It wasn't the same as jerking him off while taking him; Quatre wasn't doing anything to pleasure himself at the same time as he was pleasuring him.

"What if I want to?"

"...You really do?" Heero asked, torn between doubting his affirmation and forgetting his scruples to take advantage of the offer.

"Oh yes. I think that's called an oral fixation," Winner commented impishly.

And then he wrapped his --hotwetsoft-- mouth around the head of Heero's cock and slid his lips down his shaft, swallowing him effortlessly. The tip of his tongue was tracing patterns on Heero's skin, but since most of his attention was onto trying not to thrust up to get that mouth to swallow him whole, he didn't try too hard to figure out what they represented. For all he cared, Quatre could draw the ZERO blueprints on his dick, so long as he kept going.

Quatre looked up, his eyes gleaming maliciously. "Still want me to stop?"

Heero coughed, embarrassed to be letting his body show so clearly its desires. "Well, if you like it so much..."

He could tell that he hadn't fooled Winner when the blond heir started to laugh softly. He glared back, not appreciating being mocked.

He would have been more gratified to see Quatre stop laughing if his amused expression had been replaced by anything but that ... weird... thoughtful... soft look.

"You're surprisingly cute when you're blushing, Heero."

The brown-haired boy spluttered angrily. "I'm not cute! And I'm not blushing either."

Quatre arched an aristocratic eyebrow. "Seeing as there are no mirrors here, I would say that I'm a better angle than you to appreciate your degree of cuteness, and believe me, you look adorably flushed right now."

Heero's cheeks felt like they were on fire. "Suck and shut up," he growled as he pushed Quatre's fair head toward his groin.

"In which order?"

A second later he had his mouth too full to speak. Heero was very satisfied.

Until he heard --and FELT-- that Quatre was somehow STILL talking. It was something mumbled that sounded sort of like 'but you didn't answer my question', and Heero would have cheerfully murdered him for the teasing gleam in his eyes if he hadn't been too busy melting into the bed.

"Either-- none... I don't care, just keep going or I'll kill you!"

Heero didn't mind any longer that Quatre was laughing, because the way the sounds resonated through his sensitive flesh felt like bliss.

The first brush of something wet between his buttocks went almost unnoticed, lost in the sensations Quatre's mouth was inflicting on him. The second, sliding over his entrance, teasing his skin into tingling pleasure, was accepted just as much as the warm, toes-curling feeling of suction around his shaft. By the third time Quatre's lube-covered finger slid against his entrance, he was spreading his legs, hoping that the invitation was clear enough. He was sure that Quatre meant well, but he was just too damn gentle.

He thought about thrusting back, but Quatre's teeth were still around his erection and he really didn't want to feel them right now. "More," he growled, surprising Quatre into lifting his head and looking at him. He didn't give him time to talk. "Are you going to fuck me, or are you going to play with me all day?"

Quatre looked startled and out of balance for a second, and then he smiled in a self-assured way once again, and replied, "I'm going to fuck you ... eventually," or maybe he said something else but since he had thrust one finger all the way up inside him just at the same time, Heero didn't register the exact wording.

"You like it hard, Heero?" Quatre asked as he slid his finger leisurely in and out of him.

Heero fell back on his elbows, trying to find something to rest his feet on to give Quatre more access. "... I guess-- don't know..." he panted, replying absently as he tried to angle his hips properly. Damn Quatre for wanting to have a conversation now. How was he supposed to concentrate? "The others..."

"They did it hard and it was good?" Quatre asked, a second finger teasing his entrance, not quite following the first one in. Heero blinked up at him, shaking his head to chase a bang that had fallen across his eyes so that he could see his expression. He couldn't interpret his tone. It had sounded... Breathless somehow.

Heero nodded, frowning as he felt Quatre slow his exploration down. "Yes... Harder anyway. Careful, but not... Not so... Don't you dare stop now!!" He growled, planting his heels on the floor against the frame of the bed, and used it as leverage to thrust back on Quatre's fingers. There was a quick flash of pain, but it was nothing compared to the satisfaction of being that much closer to the real penetration.

Quatre watched him rock against his fingers, eyes dark and hungry. Heero's eyes met his and held, refusing to look away first, even when a faint smirk appeared on the blond teenager's lips.

And then he was empty and Quatre was sitting on the bed at his side, reclining lazily against the headboard. He blinked up at him; skin damp and flushed, breathing fast, wondering what was going on. Quatre's feet nudged him, heels resting on the bed so that his legs were slightly bent. His erection was standing stiff and red as he fisted it lazily, lubing it up thoroughly.


The blond smirked again and patted his thigh. "Come sit on my lap."

Heero stared at him as he rolled on his side, a hand running through his bangs to unglue them from his damp brow. "You want me to sit on your lap." He eyed Quatre's erection. He could guess what he was supposed to sit on. "Huh," he grunted, staring at it doubtfully. Quatre wasn't as long as Trowa, but he was larger than him, about even with Wufei.

"Don't tell me you're scared?"

Scowling, he knelt up on the bed, straddling Quatre's thighs, and let himself slide down their slope toward his groin. They both hissed when their erections met.

Heero grabbed the headboard around Quatre's head, knelt on the bed to lift his hips, closing his eyes when he felt the head of Quatre's erection bob against his inner thigh, leaving a line of cooling dampness against his sac. He guessed that Quatre was holding it, aiming for his entrance, when he felt it press against the ring of muscles and Quatre's hand pushed down on his thigh gently.

He had to go slowly, feeling Quatre's erection fill him inch by inch. It was hot, and so large; a few times he thought his skin was on the verge of splitting. The sensation, as always, was slightly awkward -- as if his body knew that he was not meant to have something inserted up there -- but he couldn't deny that that warmth inside him, that feeling of fullness... they felt good.

A few seconds and a small eternity later, he was sitting on Quatre's lap, his knees planted in the mattress on either side of his waist. The blond teen lifted his own knees, giving him something to lean back on, even just slightly, and so he did, his breath hitching when it changed the angle at which his erection pressed inside him. He started to rock slowly, getting used to feeling his erection inside. It was so strange to actually control the angle, the speed -- what he felt depended only on what he did. He liked that. He liked that a lot.

Quatre did, too, apparently, if one judged by his flushed skin, the sweat dampening his forehead, and his expression of painful ecstasy. Heero grinned --smirked.

"You okay, Quatre?" he asked in a falsely concerned tone as he started to rock faster, to lift himself off Quatre's erection just to impale himself back on it. "Tell me if it's too much..."

The blond growled, bucking under him. Heero's breath hitched as he felt him sheathe his cock inside him to the hilt, a bit more forcefully than what he'd been expecting.

"Oh, I'll give you too much..."

Heero couldn't help but look satisfied -- finally, he was going to put more energy into taking him -- which... was not something to do around Quatre, because he slowed down again.

"... Or not."


"You're the one riding," the blond told him with a smile that was at once smug and totally innocent. "So ride."

With a feral growl, Heero accepted the challenge. He was going to show Quatre how it was done.

Well, how he liked it done. For future reference. Or something--oh, that spot again! He repeated the plunge down, trying to find the right angle again. Missed. Brushed against it. Missed again. Missed-- found! And found again.

After that it was a blur. At one moment Quatre started to buck under him again, meeting his wild thrusts forcefully, but he couldn't recall seeing him, or hearing anything, because what he was feeling was a lot more captivating. And overwhelming. And-- ohsofuckingood.

He didn't even hear the sound of the headboard cracking under his hands, because he was too busy crying out in pleasure.


"... You like having sex, don't you?" Quatre asked him as they rested side by side on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Heero snorted and the hand that had been prodding at the splintered headboard was tucked under his head casually. "I would be weird if I didn't. Is liking sex too normal for me?"

"That's not what I mean," Quatre grumbled.

"Then ask properly." Heero knew what Quatre wanted to ask, but he was tired and sleepy; he would have preferred to have a conversation on whether his introduction to the world of sex had been worthy of a romance novel another day.

"You like to... have anal intercourse." Visibly Quatre had decided to edit his original question.

"... I guess I do," Heero reflected, deciding not to share how much his first experiences had confused him. He had enjoyed having sex with Quatre, and he wouldn't mind him invoking their arrangement again; that was all the blond pilot needed to know. "I wonder if I'll like topping more or less."

He smirked at Quatre in the darkness. His teammate's blue-green eyes twinkled at him. "I know I will enjoy helping you figure it out," Quatre replied, in a voice that would have been husky and seductive if he hadn't been trying not to laugh.

Heero chuckled tiredly as he closed his eyes to get some rest.

[Trowa's Turn] [Duo's Turn]