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Ménage à Trowa	By : Raletha Category: Gundam Wing/AC > General Views: 1973 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Ménage à Trowa

Chapter 1

by Raletha

Thanks: Anne for the beta and putting up with my hair-pulling and wailing over this fic, Lady Bast for her comments and confidence bolstering, and Windsor Blue for creating the competition.

Notes: Written for the Seme Quatre competition at the Society for the Defense of Quatre's Balls. This fic doesn't go with any of my arcs.

London - Summer AC 202

I turned my back to the wide windows that overlooked the balcony and levered the corkscrew against the top of the wine bottle. Gently, oh so gently, I eased the cork from the neck of the bottle, smiling to myself when it slid all the way free without breaking.

Outside, Duo and Quatre chatted amicably over a late supper on the balcony of Quatre's and my London townhouse. It had been a fine evening for the three of us, enjoying the balmy summer night and catching up on the past few months. With Quatre so busy during the relocation of Winner Enterprises' headquarters to Earth and Duo's new assignment of investigating -- on the ground, no less -- rumours of terrorist cells throughout the Americas, the three of us hadn't been together for any appreciable time since the previous New Year's celebration in Brussels. As for myself, a combination of studying and wrangling with the bureaucracy of tertiary institutions had kept me occupied.

However pleasant the day and evening had been, one thing continued to bother me. It was the way in which Duo, so relaxed in Quatre's company tonight, turned noticeably stiff and awkward when left alone with me. Admittedly it had been a while since I'd spent much time with Duo, but I couldn't fathom what about me was disturbing him; we'd enjoyed quite a relaxed friendship in the past.

Thus, when we'd exhausted the current bottle of wine, I'd usurped Quatre's usual role of retrieving a fresh one. I could still feel Duo's eyes on me. Since our friend had arrived earlier in the afternoon I had often found myself under his scrutiny -- although he was quick to look away if I met his eyes with a curious look of my own. Duo wasn't one to play games with me, so surreptitiously I'd managed to ask Quatre if he knew what was up, but my query had been answered only by an ominous smile and an enigmatic, "Don't worry about it."

Of course, knowing Quatre as I did, I worried.

With a deft hand, I snagged fresh glasses from the cupboard -- a triplet of fine, oversized balloon goblets for serving the Cabernet Sauvignon with which I was replacing the Riesling we'd enjoyed earlier -- and turned to leave the kitchen. I was surprised to find Quatre standing behind me.

My partner observed the bottle in my right hand and smiled. "Good choice," he said.

"I thought it'd go with the cheese board better than another white."

"Do you need a hand?" he asked, turning his observations to the three glass stems woven between the fingers of my other hand.

"No, no, I'm fine," I answered. I raised an eyebrow, wondering why Quatre was here. It wasn't like him to leave a guest alone -- even if the guest were an old, close friend. "What's Duo up to?"

"He's still out there," Quatre smiled. "Waiting. We ran out of the fig pâté as well. Hence, I have come to avert the disaster."

"I'm sure until now, Duo has never even had fig pâté."

"Hmm, possibly not," Quatre said, somewhat distracted. His eyes were just that little bit unfocused in the way I'd come to identify with his attending to his empathic sense.

"What is it?" I wondered as Quatre stepped closer. He didn't stop until our bodies were nearly touching and I was forced to extend my arms to either side to avoid crushing the goblets or bottle between us.

Quatre dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "You want to know what he would like to have?"

"I have a feeling you're going to tell m..." my reply was cut off when Quatre leaned in for a kiss -- a slow, unhurried, and promising sort of kiss that surprised me given that we had an audience on the other side of the kitchen window.

Quatre pulled back, his eyes dark. "You," he said in a smoky voice. "He wants you."

"Pardon me?"

"Duo has a crush on you. He's been radiating lust every time he looks at you."

I blinked. "Why are you telling me this?"

Quatre's lips twitched into a lopsided grin. "Because," he drawled, raising a hand to finger my collar and toy with the unbuttoned top button, "you find him attractive too. I've seen the way you look at him sometimes, and Trowa, you can't hide that sort of thing from me."

I frowned; I detected no anger from Quatre, but rather a sort of amused arousal. "So? He is attractive. You think so too -- you've told me as much," I paused in thought. "But I didn't think Duo was that interested in men?"

"Well, he's very interested in you, and in, well, both of us, actually." Quatre lowered his head to drag his lips across the base of my throat.

I, encumbered by glasses and an open bottle of wine, was helpless to divert Quatre's attentionWithWith a ragged breath I tried to force my awareness away from the heaviness growing in my groin. "Cat? What are you doing?" I hissed, glancing out the window to meet a curious indigo gaze -- a gaze that turned embarrassed before looking quickly away. The disorientation I felt had nothing to do with the wine I'd drunk.

"Hmm," Quatre murmured against my neck, nuzzling his way up to an earlobe. "Yes he's definitely interested in both of us."

"You can't be serious..." I said with a light shiver as realisation dawned.

"Why not?" Quatre asked, sobering as he straightened to meet my eyes. "It's a fantasy we've both talked about, but have neveen ien in a comfortable enough place with anyone else to pursue. Duo's a friend. He's interested. I'm interested, and I'm pretty sure you are too." He emphasized the last by sliding a hand between us and cupping my hardening shaft.

"Mmm, but how do you know he's interested in anything more than just... looking?"

"I asked him."

"You what?"

"I asked. You know, 'Duo, are you interested in sleeping with Trowa and me?' Like that."

"Just like that, huh?" I nearly laughed at Quatre's audacity. "Don't you think you should have asked me first?"

"I already knew what your answer would be."

"Oh? Do tell?"

"You're going to say yes, I can feel it," He pressed his hand more firmly against me, rubbing with the heel of his hand. "And I know how your mind works."

"I... ah... I don't know..."

"Yes you do. Imagine it, Trowa..." Quatre leaned close again, his lips moving against my ear, his voice pitched low and silky. "My cock filling you, while Duo sucks your cock -- both of us taking you simultaneously. Don't you want to know how that will feel?"

"Oh... I see," I swallowed with difficulty. Quatre rarely spoke so frankly, but when he did, and when those words conjured such a seductive image... I rallied and asked, "You've already planned this out, have you?"

"Well, established a few ground rules anyway."

"And they are?" I tried to keep my voice from breaking, but failed.

Quatre grinned and kissed my cheek before whispering, "I'm the only one who fucks you. That's all, so far."

"That's good," I nodded. "I don't want anyone but you fucking me."

Quatre's resulting smile was smug and predatory. "So, give me the glasses and the wine. I'll take them to the bedroom," Quatre took the items from me and turned away. "You go get Duo. I'll be waiting."

It was true; we had been drinking tonight. In fact, I'd developed quite a comfortable and relaxed buzz -- but it wasn't enough to mask the peculiar mélange of arousal and anxiety I experienced now. Nor was it enough that I could blame it for either my or my partner's behaviour. The interest, the response of my body, was honest.

I freed my mind from propriety and pondered what it was about Duo that I found compelling. Perhaps it was simply my friend's strange androgyny manifest through his unusual hair and careless grace. Perhaps it was his indomitable good humour? Perhaps it was also the way he loved Quatre too. As much as I knew my partner was more than capable of tending to his own needs, it had -- and still did -- mean a lot to me that he had a friend like Duo: Duo, who'd been there for both of us during some very difficult times. It meant a lot to me that I had a friend like Duo. Did it make sense to be sexually attracted to him for these reasons? I wasn't sure, and I didn't know if I'd get to the bottom of my conundrum any time soon.

I shook my head and returned to my present dilemma. I'd never made a secret of my attraction to Duo. As Quatre had reminded me, I couldn't hide such things from him. Even so, Quatre still hadn't given me much of a chance to say yes, no, or otherwise -- but that now appeared irrelevant. Quatre did know me well enough to have anticipated the inevitable.

"I'm getting far too predictable," I murmured to myself, wending my way from the kitchen through the lounge and to the wide-open French doors beyond which Duo was waiting. The summer breeze stirred the gossamer curtains at either side of the doorway and filled our home with the dense sweet scent of roses. I paused amidst the dimly gleaming surfaces of Edwardian antiques to allow my heart time to slow before stepping to the doors, my carriage and expression a practiced calm.

Waiting, Duo appeared as nervous as I felt. At first glance he appeared relaxed enough, slumped in his chair with his booted feet, crossed at the ankles, resting on the lower rail of the balcony's perimeter, but I could see he wasn't. His expression was oddly perturbed as he stared at the street and garden below, and in his hands he toyed with one of the small wooden-handled cheese knives.

Duo, hearing my approach, turned toward me and set the knife back on the table. "Hey," he said, a familiar, easy grin spreading across his face and banishing the appearance of apprehension.

"Duo," I inclined my head, uncertain what else to say as I hovered in the doorway and waited for some indication or inspiration regarding what to do next. It was strange to see him now, with the new knowledge I had. In the soft golden hue of the city's street lamps, amid the dappled shadows of the balcony's flowering vines, he appeared softer somehow, and more alluring than I'd ever seen him. My body agreed, but I resisted the urge to fidget in the wake of it.

He still wore his hair long, although his braid was shorter now than it had been during the war. I could see streaks of burnished gold mingling with the chestnut strands twisting through his hair, catching the light. That and the warm tan of his complexion provided evidence of his life on Earth. He still wore black, although he no longer wore the priest collar. He'd given that up not long after the war, when he'd laid some ghosts to rest.

My contemplation was interrupted; Duo cocked his head at me, and his grin faltered minutely before recovering and broadening. "Quatre talked to you?"

"He often does," I said, inwardly wincing at my attempt at humour. I was sure it wouldn't be sufficient to ease the current tension. But I was relieved when Duo laughed, and stood, wiping his palms along his thighs. My gaze followed the motion of his hands, along the strong, lean line of his legs, flattered by the straight-legged black pants he wore. They weren't tight, but clung to the shape of his legs just enough to hint at the fine form beneath.

I almost felt guilty for noticing.

"Trowa?"

It was only the second time Duo had said my name today. The first time had been when I'd answered the door at his arrival. I raised my eyes to meet his and found his expression more somber and curious -- concerned almost. For me or for himself I wasn't sure. He tossed his braid over his shoulder and approached me.

I didn't fidget under his eyes as they swept from my face down my body, taking in my loose white shirt with its top few buttons undone the way I knew Quatre liked, and the sleeves just a little bit too long so that the fabric would hang at the cuffs in a manner Quatre deemed romantic. Duo's eyes traveled lower to the dark olive gabardine of my slacks, the drape of which did little to obscure my interest. A new rush of heat throbbed to my groin under his eyes as they lingered -- and continued to linger until I had to break the silence between us to divert his attention. I belatedly realised it was my turn to speak anyway.

"So..." I started, casually sliding one hand into a pocket and with the other, sweeping my hair from my face. "Quatre talked to you about us -- tonight?"

"Yeah," he continued moving nearer until I could smell his cologne: sharp, woody, and exotic; reminiscent of plums and mandarins, but undeniably masculine. I inhaled, comparing his scent to Quatre's; they were so different.

As different as the lips that suddenly pressed against mine. It was a soft, querying kiss, from which Duo quickly pulled back. I leaned forward to follow his lips before my mind caught up with my body and I straightened with an attempt at an encouraging smile.

His eyes narrowed in study of my face before he relaxed and returned my smile, "I just wanted to get that over with so we didn't keep standing here staring at each other like idiots."

"All right," I said. "Quatre's waiting in the bedroom."

"He can wait a little longer," said Duo, reaching for me to pull my head down. His hand cupped the side of my jaw, and his thumb massaged the line of my cheekbone as he again captured my lips with his own.

Prepared this time, I relaxed into the kiss, savouring the foreign softness of his lips moving against mine. My hand, I removed from my pocket to rest at Duo's side. The firm muscles of his torso shifted under my palm, their definition palpable through the clinging fabric of his t-shirt.

All the tiny differences scattered through my mind at once jarring and erotic. I parted my lips to flick my tongue-tip over his lips, requesting -- and being granted -- deeper contact. His mouth tasted sweetly tart from the wine as I discovered how the rhythm of his kiss differed from Quatre's. It was both more random and more yielding. I closed my eyes and drew him closer until I could slide the hand at his waist to the small of his back and I felt the hard proof of his desire against my hip.

I needed to know more about the arrangement. The details of what he expected were too vague for my comfort. And since Duo and I had never been close in the same way he and Quatre were, I didn't want to take anything for granted, or make any assumptions. When I drew back from the kiss, Duo's eyes were bright and his cheeks flushed. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his expression pleased.

"Duo," I began, stepping back from him to better distance myself from bof ouf our physical responses. "What is it you're wanting from me -- from us tonight? I don't want to do anything you're uncomfortable with. I don't know what your previous experiences have been." How far did he want things to go?

"That's fair. I guess Quatre didn't tell you that much, huh?"

"Only that he's the only one who'll be... ah..." I trailed off, surprised that the words I wanted to say stubbornly refused to exit my mouth.

"Fucking you," Duo helpfully supplied the words. "I know. I was hoping that you'd be willing to... ah..." he paused, mimicking my hesitancy with a smirk," fuck me."

At those words, my throat went dry. Without thinking, I nodded before he continued.

"As far as experience? I've never been with a guy -- not for lack of interest though. It's just that the women always seem to get to me first," he chuckled.

"Are you with anyone now?" I asked slowly. I hadn't really thought about being the one to take his -- what? Virginity? Nor had I contemplated whether Duo had a girlfriend waiting for him somewhere.

"No, not really," he shook his head. "It's been hard, with all the traveling, to keep anything going."

"Are you expecting any kind of commitment out of tonight?"

"Hell no, of course not. No one could get between you two anyway. I wouldn't even want to try."

"Good."

Duo laughed. "Quatre said the same thing." His amusement quickly metamorphosed to a frown. "Although I don't want to cause any problems between you guys or do anything to harm our friendships."

"So long as you're comfortable enough, don't worry about us." After seven years with Quatre I knew what sort of things might constitute threats to our relationship, and this wasn't one of them.

He laughed again, "Quatre also said that."

"All right, then," I said and took his hand. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way."

tbc.
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Ménage à Trowa

Ménage à Trowa

Chapter 1

London - Summer AC 202