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The Sabintha Stories	By : Maureen Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 841 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
The
Sabintha Stories: Not So Innocent pt. 1: TK/MP #12: How Quatre Found Out

Archived also at:
http://gundamwing.fanworkrecs.com/Sabintha/index.htm

Pairings: Unknown
het couple, 13x6, 3x4, 1x2

Rating: NC-17

Warning: This contains a bit of something
that's the closest I'll ever come to writing het smut. And its not very close,
trust me. Also, I intentionally made the 13x6 dialogue tripey. This series was
also supposed to be a bit humorous (although that got blown out of the
water in the 4th part...) Also, not only is Quatre a shameless little hentai,
but I let him get drunk as well...

Again,
thanks to zOzma and Manon both for the beta work on this. And I changed the
spelling of Miri's name just for you ^_~)

At
least once a year, generally after New Year's Day, four of the former Gundam
pilots would gather for a few days of drinking, reminiscing, and relaxing. They
always tried to include Wufei, but he usually brushed off these attempts with
gruff good humor.

Today
it was Heero's turn to plan the refreshments, and a pile of mostly empty sushi
platters and several six-packs worth of empty Kirin cluttered the table. Quatre
was sniggering softly to himself as Heero poured another round of warmed sake.
Trowa had built a complex tower of chopsticks and cans, which Duo kept trying to
demolish.

Quatre
tossed back the shot with a soft shout of "Kampai!" and smiled
slit-eyed at Duo across the table. Heero snorted and poured them both more of
the liquor.

"Hey
Cat, how'd you find out about sex?" Duo was bored with deconstruction.

"Huh?"
Quatre blinked as Heero refilled his glass. In perfect synchronization, the cups
were lifted and drained.

"Slow
down there, sake boy! Let's not be seeing any regurgitated sushi around
here!" Duo commanded, grabbing the almost empty bottle away from Heero. He
downed the remainder, ignoring Quatre's fuzzily giggled protest. "I asked
how you found out about sex. You're the only one of us who had anything close to
a normal childhood - how do normal kids find out?"

"My
sisters showed me..."

"Aw,
man - now that's just downright disgusting!"

"No!
Not like that!" Quatre snickered. "They showed me vidclips!" Duo
looked dubious, Heero was mildly intrigued and Trowa was not in the least bit
surprised. After all, he knew Quatre's sisters. "It all started
with a betting pool..."

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*

Quatre
practiced his scales with a concentrated diligence well beyond his ten years. He
focused his whole being on the steady rise and fall of the notes in an attempt
to drown out the rush-hour frantic feeling he got from all his sisters being
home at once. Even losing himself in music failed to work, however, as a horde
of them battered their way into his study and proceed to wage a battle of taunts
and indecipherable insults all around him.

Sabintha,
all gypsy skirts and shaggy blonde hair, strode into the eye of the storm and
whistled for silence. "I told you fools! There's only one way to settle
this - everyone place your bets and then grab the kid and drag him back to my
room!" She cut through the throng to approach Quatre herself, wrapped her
arm around his shoulders and bent down to consult with him, "Want to watch
some movies with a few of us, Quatre?"

"Why?"
His sisters usually ignored him. Having a gaggle of them suddenly interested
could not be considered a good thing.

"We
just need your help deciding which kind of movie is the best!" Sabintha's
lips curved into a tight cat's smile. "We need a man's opinion for
this, Quatre!" She addressed their sisters. "Okay, bets are an even
500 creds each - winners split the pot equally. Pony up, girls!"

The
sisters that cared to put their money behind their convictions each handed over
the requisite number of credits, each pronouncing "Is" or
"Not" as she did so, which Sabintha dutifully marked down along with
the name of the bettor.

"'Is'
or 'Not' what, Sabintha?" Quatre asked as the loose group tumbled through
the halls to her room.

Gently,
she linked her arm through his and confided, "They're concerned about your
orientation, Quatre."

"What
orientation? I'm not going anywhere but to your room, at the moment. I have no
immediate plans for travel of any sort and what does that have to do with
movies, anyway?"

His
sister provided him with no answers, she was drowned out by cries of "No
fair!" and "Sabintha's coaching him!" as they entered her rooms.

The
suite was a technophobe's nightmare - a haphazard pile of vid decks were
daisy-chained together with a multitude of multicolored wiring, one of the
largest video screens in production dominated a side wall, flanked by two floor
to ceiling shelves full of vids, and vid-corders and cameras of all shapes,
sizes, and states of repair littered a low work table spanning the opposite
wall.

With
surprising efficiency the sisters, who had just moments ago been squabbling down
the house, arranged various couches and chairs in a cozy semi-circle around the
vid-screen and managed to scavenge a decent spread of snacks and beverages from
Sabintha's hoard of junk food.

Sabintha
stood in front of the group, not saying a word, simply staring at the throng as
the women changed seats, passed food, and finally settled down. "All right,
then. We'll start with a hetero clip -"

"You
have hetero in your stash?" Bettina, the sister who had most emphatically
declared "Not!" sneered.

"Yes,
obviously, or I wouldn't be about to put it in the player, dumbass." There
was very little love lost between these two siblings.

"Pervert..."
muttered Bettina while the lights dimmed and Sabintha took a spot next to Quatre
on the couch centered in front of the screen.

"Now,
Quatre-honey, all you have to do is watch this and tell us how it makes you
feel..."

"Hey!"
Deirdre, one of only three "Is" votes in the group of eight,
interrupted. "Are you sure he's old enough for this?"

She
was promptly silenced by flying pillows from several angles as the action on the
screen started.

The
movie began simply enough - a nice-looking man and woman drove along a seaside
road and came to a secluded house perched over the roaring surf. The man seemed
very solicitous of the woman, even going as far as to carry her, laughing and
wiggling, through the front door and directly to a dimly-lit bedroom dominated
by an absolutely humongous bed. The woman stopped giggling as soon as she saw
the bed. Instead she smiled at her companion wickedly and pushed him down to sit
on the edge of it.

Stepping
back, she slowly unbuttoned her dress and let it fall away to reveal some of the
strangest underwear that Quatre had ever seen, and with as many sisters as he
had, that was saying a lot. The garment was lacy and form fitting, covering the
woman's abdomen, and it had straps that hooked onto the filmy stockings she
wore. But in opposition to everything Quatre knew about bras and other
supporting garments, this one ended just below what he thought it should cover
the most. The woman's bare breasts were pressed up to spill over the top of the
lace edging. The man appeared to appreciate this though, for her dress had
barely dropped from her fingers before he had grabbed her by the hips and pulled
her forward to bury his face in the protruding shelf of flesh.

On
the screen the woman moaned deeply in response and Quatre squirmed slightly in
boredom. A quick survey of his sisters revealed them to be enrapt with the
action on the screen for the most part, although Sabintha was busily examining
her cuticles as the movement in the vid intensified.

The
man's hand had plunged between the woman's legs, and from what Quatre could see,
it had somehow disappeared almost entirely in there. The hand emerged clutching
a tiny scrap of silk that Quatre surmised must have at one point been her
underwear. The man then fell to his knees in a worshipful pose and proceeded to
jam his nose into the space his hand had so recently vacated. The woman appeared
to enjoy this, and if the muffled grunts of the man were any indication, he did
as well. Quatre was completely baffled, "Why would anyone want to do
that?"

There
was no answer. His sisters were too busy staring with glassy eyes as the man
threw the woman down to the bed and stripped himself as rapidly as possible. This
caught Quatre's interest. The man was firmly muscled but not overripe... and
between his legs the most glorious muscle that Quatre had ever seen stood at
full, rapt attention. "He's beautiful..."

"See,
I told you." Sabintha muttered darkly from his side; the man on the screen
nudged the woman's legs open and settled his weight between them.

"That
doesn't prove a damn thing, and you know it. If I say the woman's attractive, it
doesn't make me a lesbian!" countered Bettina.

"Yeah,
but screwing half of Father's guards makes you a slut." Sabintha did not
even bother to whisper this comment. Bettina rose and was instantly pulled back
down by hands on either side and breathlessly shushed as the vid-woman squealed
loudly.

"Goodness..."
murmured Claudia, a tentative "Not." "He certainly seems adept at
that, wouldn't you all say?"

No
one said anything for the space of the next few minutes; instead the air was
filled with the grunts, groans, and growls of the couple on the screen. Quatre
watched in bored detachment as they rolled. With the woman on top he was
deprived of seeing the man's back muscles ripple in the most fascinating way.
Quatre huffed a bit, blowing his bangs out his eyes momentarily, and wished he
was back practicing his scales.

The
vid action apparently came to a satisfactory end for the participants, and
several of his sisters as well, who sat with glazed stares and secretive smiles.
"Well, Quatre?" Sabintha poked him with an elbow. "What did you
think?"

"About
what? Was that sex?" Sabintha nodded as the rest of the sisters watched
Quatre intently. "I don't know, maybe I'm not old enough - it all seemed
rather dull to me."

"But
wasn't she pretty?" Bettina was solicitous.

"I
guess. But did he really like doing all those things to her? And why would any
man want to put a woman's breast in his mouth? I don't see how that would taste
very good..."

This
prompted a small eruption of squabbling, and a few of the "Nots" were
even on the verge of conceding defeat when Bettina bellowed, "That does not
prove a damn thing! Perhaps he is too young - let Sabintha put in one of her
vids, and we'll see."

With
this pronouncement, the sisters settled down once more, and passed around fresh
drinks. Jasmine, the last of the "Is" triumvirate, was about to light
one of her strangely sweet, hand rolled cigarettes, but Sabintha snatched it
with a disproving little cluck and declared, "Later," as she tucked it
behind her ear. She then moved in front of the vid-screen and cleared her throat
for attention.

"This
is a special treat, ladies, and gentleman." She paused to wink at Quatre.
"I just finished editing this last night - so you'll all be the first to
see my newest masterpiece."

There
was an eruption of chatter as Sabintha slapped the vid into the deck. "Is
this Treize and Mirialdo?" She nodded.

"Turn
up the volume! The way he talks is always the best part!" one sister
commanded.

"The
worst part, you mean!" countered another. "He sounds like some idiotic
hero from a really bad romance novel!"

"It's
sexy!!"

"It's
sappy!!"

"You'd
spread if he talked that way to you..."

"SHUT
UP!" Sabintha bellowed. To Quatre's surprise, his sisters obeyed and
quickly resumed their previous seats. "Let's all just hush and let Quatre
form his own opinion." She plopped down next to him, snatching and draining
his fresh can of cola. "Get the kid another drink." Sabintha burped
delicately. "This is from the last meat market at the Earthside
estate..." Every six months or so, Quatre's father arranged social
gatherings of epic proportions, inviting several eligible, suitable young men to
congregate on his property and around his daughters. Quatre remembered this last
weeklong party with particular glee. "... And some of you wondered where
Treize and Miri were during the dancing..."

"I
had such fun with Treize and Mirialdo!" The pair had taken a special
interest in poor Quatre, mostly ignored at these sorts of gatherings. It had
made him feel very special, and warm deep in his tummy when one would ask his
opinion or the other would lightly ruffle his hair. "They let me play with
them all week ... until Father caught us and became ever so angry..."
Quatre trailed off as he realized all of his sisters had riveted their attention
on him.

"Pl-lay-ay?"
Bettina's voice cracked the word into several syllables. "And Father caught
them and they're still alive?"

Ever
the voice of reason, Sabintha asked. "What sorts of games did you play with
Treize and Mirialdo, sweetie?"

"Mirialdo
taught me how to shoot skeet! And Treize was showing me how to fence. Mirialdo
even said that when I got old enough, I could come to the Academy and train with
him - I have 'excellent aim and stunning reflexes!' But then Father caught us
and started ranting about pacifism and," in a falsely deep voice, chin
tucked into his chest and brow heavily furrowed as he mocked, " 'No son of
mine will ever shoot a gun or pilot one of those metallic
monstrosities...'" And here, Quatre made the universal sign for someone
running on at the mouth, his hand opening and shutting like a duck's bill.
"I really don't see what all the fuss is... besides, I'm good at
it! Treize and Mirialdo both said so!"

"Ohhhhh...
is that alllll..." sighed Bettina, still not able to control the
enunciation of her words.

"Fine,
can we get on with this now?" Sabintha's finger hovered over the
"play" button on the remote.

This
vid started much differently from than the last. The scene opened on a
rose-filled corner of the grounds, and no people were in sight. "Is that
Marguerite's rose garden?" Jasmine squinted.

"Yes
- Treize asked me to show it to him." Quatre said with no small pride; he
had been such an excellent host.

"Figures."
Bettina sulked, and then was promptly shushed by the others as Treize and
Mirialdo came into view.

Marguerite
was never one to do things halfway, therefore the flowers that Treize so prized
filled the secluded corner in every imaginable size and hue. Roses clung to
trellises, and dripped down in attractive sprays of red and pinks. Bushes dotted
with every probable color and variety of rose crammed the small space with
blossoms in every stage of life, from tight buds to those gently weeping their
petals onto the lush grass below. "This is incredible," Mirialdo told
his companion.

"Nowhere
near as incredible, beautiful, wonderful..." Treize trailed off and gently
brushed Mirialdo's shoulder length blonde tresses back from his face. "Not
as perfect as you, o rarest of blooms."

"Ack!"
said one sister. "Shut up!" hissed three more.

Quatre
edged forward a bit on the couch. He had spent a great deal of time with the
pair and had never heard Treize talking like that. Nor had he ever
touched Mirialdo in such a pleasant way - for the blond's eyes were half-shut
and he virtually purred as he leaned into the caress.

"This
is your element, Mirialdo - you are a wild and untamable animal, magnificent in
your graceful ferocity. My satyr, my Pan... enchant me with your grace under the
moon's licentious gaze... for she wants you too, but the delights of your smooth
skin are mine alone..." As his low hypnotic voice covered Mirialdo in
praise, his fingers smoothly worked at uncovering the younger boy. Quatre was
amazed to see first the formal embellished jacket hit the ground, swiftly
followed by a slithery and stealthily unfastened cravat, and soon joined by a
frilly-fronted shirt. His was not the only appreciative gasp as the group got
their first good look at what Treize had uncovered.

Even
at fourteen, Mirialdo was a picture-perfect specimen of healthy manhood.
Although his chest lacked hair, it was not deficient in musculature. Indeed, he
was well defined with not a bit of softness on his torso; every muscle was
proudly highlighted by the moon's caressing glow. His hair shone silver-white in
the gentle light, rippling as Mirialdo dropped his head back to offer his neck
to Treize's softly whispering lips. "Perfect ... you are
perfection..." each word ending with a moist kiss, a flick of the tongue,
"A Greek statue, a Roman god... are you Mars, my mighty warrior, or do you
hail from the planet of love, instead?" This string of exaltations ended
with Treize's lips hovering just over Mirialdo's, and Treize's hands pushing
Mirialdo's pants over the slim planes of his hips.

Quatre's
mouth dried out as Mirialdo's pants hit the ground and Treize's lips found their
mark. Had there ever been anything, anywhere, so incredibly, spectacularly,
absolutely gorgeous as the movement of the two men's mouths against each other?
When Mirialdo gave a little whimpering moan and began clawing frantically at
Treize's clothes, Quatre had to answer with an echoing groan.

Beside
him, Sabintha snorted, "Knew it!" and he turned briefly to stare at
her in confusion. A rumbly, butterscotch chuckle from Treize drew Quatre's
attention back to the screen, so when Sabintha whispered, "And how does this
make you feel?" into his ear, his only reply was, "Mmmmm-hmmm..."

Mirialdo
had somehow managed to strip the older boy, revealing an equally firm physique,
broader in the shoulders, leading in a more defined "V" to Treize's
waist. Sensing his partner's over-eagerness, Treize stepped back to remove his
pants, slowly uncovering firm, long legs and tightly rounded haunches.

Casually,
without removing his eyes from Mirialdo, Treize reached out and cradled one of
the fading blossoms, twisting gently until it yielded its petals. Moving in a
way that could only be described as stalking, he closed the distance between
them and brought the handful of petals up to Mirialdo's chest. "Which is
softer, do you suppose?" Treize mused as he lightly stroked the blonde's
trembling pectorals. "The satin of this rose, or the silk of your
skin?" Treize continued. Quatre squirmed as the petals were swirled over
Mirialdo's skin, dropping slowly away with each passing stroke until Treize held
a single petal, which he brushed repeatedly over Mirialdo's parted lips.

It
was indescribable, really, the way this made Quatre feel - all hot and cold at
the same time. He wanted to quietly weep or shout for joy. He wanted to tell
everyone he knew of this wonderful new secret, but at the same time, he wanted
to keep it all to himself. Mostly, however, he wanted to watch.

What
Treize did next puzzled Quatre, but Mirialdo's reaction did not. Treize took the
single remaining petal and traced a meandering path from Mirialdo's lips, down
his chest, swept it from hipbone to hipbone, and then used it to trace the proud
length jutting between them. The petal became mired in the pearlescent fluid
gathered at the tip, and Treize tossed it aside to cover the area with his lips.
Immediately, Mirialdo's head fell back and he buried his hands in Treize's hair
with a resounding wail.

As
Treize moved with a precisely deliberate rhythm over Mirialdo's straining shaft,
Quatre felt the nascent stirring of his own. He shifted slightly and dropped one
of the many small pillows littering the couch onto his lap, flushing a painful
red when Sabintha caught his eye and winked with a little knowing smile.

It
was heavenly torture, watching each careful move made over Mirialdo's quivering
body. What would it be like to be Mirialdo - to feel that wickedly
talented tongue meandering over wanton flesh, to have those strong hands tightly
grip his buttocks, to be the recipient of each faintly spoken word of praise?

Jasmine,
sitting on the floor at Quatre's feet, noticed her little brother's distress and
crowed, "We have a winner, folks! And I don't mean grandpa!" as Treize
broke away from Mirialdo to retrieve his jacket and placed it, carefully folded,
over a low bench.

Sabintha
paused the vid and turned to Quatre, "Well, tell us all what you think of this
vid."

"I...
ah... um." Quatre was unable to look away from the screen - Mirialdo
immobilized in the act of leaning over the bench, resting his chest on the
pillowing garment. Thighs and calves were stretched taut as he canted forward,
looking back over his shoulder, face half-shrouded in that luxuriant wealth of
hair. "I li-li-like it." He finally stuttered. "A lot."

"Shit!
And that was all my money for the next week!" Bettina grumbled. She rose
jerkily, pausing only to slap Quatre half-jokingly in the back of the head on
the way out of the room. "Thanks for nothing, you little miscreant."

"What
did I do?" The rest of the "Not" sisters flounced away with
sentiments ranging from a good-natured "oh well" to a maliciously
gleeful "Wait until Father finds out!"

Soon,
only the three "Is" votes, Sabintha, Jasmine, and Deirdre, remained in
the room with Quatre. "How are we gonna split the kitty?" Jasmine
threw herself on the couch next to Sabintha. "And where's my doobie?"

"You
are not lighting up in front of Quatre!" Sabintha moved the object in
question away. "Before we split the money, perhaps we should extend the
wager a bit..."

"Like
a little maryjane's gonna kill the kid - you're showing him hard-core
porn!" Jasmine gave up trying to find the joint that Sabintha had
surreptitiously tucked into Quatre's vest pocket. "What do you mean about
the bet?"

"It's
just that we still have an important question left to answer... 'Top' or
'Bottom.'"

"Top,
definitely." declared Deirdre from her nest in a severely overstuffed chair
next to the couch.

"Care
to let your money ride on your convictions?" Both sisters nodded, so
Sabintha continued, "Well, what do you think, Jasmine?"

"I
think I need a smoke..." Seeing that this line of inquiry was dead, she
added. "I'm with Dee, 'Top.' And how do you intend to determine this
particular fact?"

"And
I say 'Bottom!'" Sabintha took up the remote again. "We'll just watch
the rest and Quatre can decide who he'd rather be."

Quatre
already knew what part he would like to play in the equation frozen on the
screen, but wisely kept silent so he could see the rest of the vid. Treize moved
to kneel behind Mirialdo, a small vial of clear fluid in his hands, which he
uncorked and breathed of deeply before coating one hand liberally and stroking
the offered cleft.

"Let
me guess," snorted Deirdre. "Rose oil?"

"Indubitably,"
said Sabintha.

"Shush!"
said Quatre as Treize teased Mirialdo with the oiled digits, kissing a leisurely
path over every ridge of the elongated spine stretched out before him.

Mirialdo
was thrashing under Treize's steady hand, his hips thrust back to meet every
whispered caress. It was easy to decide with position he'd rather take, really.
For to Quatre it was clear, although both men were enjoying themselves Treize
was still in control - every move calculated, his half-lidded eyes twinkling
with feral delight. And Mirialdo was overwhelmed with passion - no longer the
witty, articulate teen that Quatre had quickly grown to admire - he had been
transmuted into an inarticulate creature of need, mewling with pleasure and
mindless with desire. And that's what Quatre wanted - to lose himself so
entirely in his own sensations that he could not think, only feel.

And
what a feeling it must be! Mirialdo's head snapped abruptly upright, hair
flaring up and back in a silken arc as Treize moved behind and then into
him. An undulating cry flowed from Mirialdo's lips as Treize nudged forward,
withdrawing almost instantly to slam forward with a sudden jerk. Quatre grew as
short of breath as the men on the screen as the pace accelerated, panting along
with them while Mirialdo's moans drove the tempo of Treize's hips.

And
when Treize snaked his oiled hand between Mirialdo and the bench, Quatre's groin
jumped in sympathy with the shriek that rang through the clearing as the blond
shuddered once, twice, and fell limply still across the folded coat. Treize
rocked forward a half dozen more times before slumping over his companion,
murmuring sweet nothings as their breathing slowed.

Sabintha
stopped the recording again, freeze-framing the moment of post-coital bliss.
"Which one looked like he was having more fun to you, little brother?"

"Oh,
Mirialdo!" Quatre grinned around at the women. "Don't you think?"
He glanced at the screen briefly and gave a happy little shiver at the ecstatic
look on the blonde's face.

"Ah,
sh..." grumbled Deirdre. "How'd you know, Sabintha?"

"'Cause
she's got all those discs - 'Bintha must be able to spot 'em anywhere!"
Jasmine stretched off the couch. "I'm going to my own room for a quiet
little smoke."

"Take
me with! Drowning the sorrows and all..." Deirdre extricated herself from
the puffy chair and hobbled after Jasmine on half-asleep feet. "Night,
Sabintha, Quatre!" She pulled the door shut after flipping a dismissive
hand back at them.

Quatre
stole another glance at the screen, and then sidelong at his sister from
underneath his bangs. "Could we... I... could you... pl-play it
again?" he finally managed to push out.

"No."
Quatre felt as though she'd punched him in the stomach until she grinned and
amended, "There's another one I want to show you instead..."

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*

When
Quatre's story came to an end, the four remained silent for a long moment. Then
Heero, cross-eyed with drunken puzzlement, said, "There's just one thing I
want to know... what happened to the marijuana?"

Duo
gaped at his partner in shock, and even more so when Quatre answered, "We
smoked it!"

Still
missing the entire point, Heero focused, "You sister gave you
drugs when you were only ten?"

Duo
burst, "His sister showed him hard-core porn starring Zechs and
Treize when he was ten! I hardly think that a couple of puffs compares to
that!" He stepped back to consider his words, "Were they really hot,
Quatre? I'd really like to see ol' Mask-boy there in action sometime!"

"OK!"
Quatre smiled brightly, although his eyes were mostly squinted shut. "And
if you like the mask, you should see the discs from during the war!"

"What
the hell? Did your sister follow them around with a 'corder everywhere they
went?" Duo sputtered.

"No,
silly! Une's responsible for all the wartime Captures! And they're yummy! She
called it the "Masked Rose" series - very kinky stuff!" Quatre
quietly 'um-hmm'd' to himself after he spoke.

"I
must be missing something here - Lady Une's in on this too?" Duo was passed
confused, and even Trowa looked a bit non-plussed at the mention of Une.

"Ohhh,
shhh! I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but..." Quatre leaned forward,
conspiratorially continuing in the not-so confidential drunken tone,
"There's this ... ah, secret society kind of thing... women who like to see
men..." Quatre alcohol-flushed cheeks flared redder. "You
know..."

"Fuck?"
supplied Heero helpfully.

"Yesssh!
Anyway, they make these vidclips - Captures, they call 'em - and trade 'em
around with each other. Some pairings are more prized than others... there's
this complex rating system..."

"Rating
system?" Trowa was even intrigued.

"Yeah
- whether it's a rare pairing - you know, like a one time thing... And how
imaginative the sex is... they don't want to see just plain old sex - they're
looking for something special." Quatre beamed with sake-fueled pride.
"We're on the 'most wanted' list!"

"Huh?"

"Oh,
and you guys, too, Duo. It's usually really hard to get membership in the
groups, but anyone that can come up with a Capture of the two of you
together," Quatre wagged his fingers at the multiple Duos and Heeros at the
table. "Or the two of us," and he leaned against Trowa with a happy
sigh. "That person is instantly admitted."

Duo
pondered this bit of info for a moment. "Are there any tapes of Heero and
me?"

"Not
together."

Before
Duo could ask for further clarification, Trowa whispered in Quatre's ear,
"And us, my Quatre?"

"Oh,
look, we're out of beer!" Quatre struggled to rise from the table, but
Trowa grabbed his arm. "Um... yes..." He told the table top before
looking up to find a reassuring, mildly amused look in Trowa's eyes. "The
last time we had all my family over... the hot tub..."

Trowa
grinned, actually showing teeth. "That I would like to see."

"Ok!"
Quatre was instantly the perfect host again, "But Duo asked to see Treize
and Mirialdo, first."

"Wait!"
The beer had made Duo slower on the uptake than he would have liked. "You
mean you have some of these vids?"

"My
sister Sabintha copies all the discs she gets for me - they're in the locked
cabinet by the vid-screen." Quatre turned to Trowa, "Why don't you all
go get settled in there and pick out something to watch - I'll bring some more
beer and munchies and meet you."

"And
I'll help lil' Quatre!" slurred Heero.

"Watch
who you're calling little, Heero." Trowa smirked. "And what's the
combo on the lock, love?"

Quatre
winked back over his shoulder as he and Heero propped each other up on the way
to the kitchen. "343, of course."
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