Blissfully Yours

His arms around Trowa's neck were as tight as he could ever remember squeezing them. He trusted Trowa with his entire life, and the arms holding him around his back and under his knees were strong and seemed to not even be tired. Trowa just gave him a smile as he adjusted the bundle in his arms so he could fish the keys to their condo out of his pocket.

“I'm almost afraid to see what they've done to our home,” Quatre said.

Trowa merely echoed his concern with a nod. They had been effectively kicked out of their own home for the past week; Trowa packed off to Heero and Duo and Quatre to stay with his sisters and work. In fact, Trowa and Quatre hadn't even seen each other until this afternoon at the ceremony. The scenes were as fresh in his mind as they were able to be played out on the dvds in Quatre's hands.

It had been a small, private affair. Quatre's sisters who could, and would attend. Heero, Duo, Wufei, and a handful of others that had managed to survive the war. The small gazebo had been hung and wound with dozens of white and blue flowers, all of their stems and vines showing as a dim green between the flashes of white and blue. The guests sat on both sides of a small aisle, each end chair decorated with a large corsage of the same flowers decorating the building. Trowa stood off to the right side of the woman they'd found to lead the ceremony, Heero on his left as his best man. They both looked good enough to eat in perfectly tailored black tuxedos, crisp white shirts with black onyx buttons and tasteful black ties with an elegant white and blue design. Somehow, the make-up artist had gotten hold of both of them and had fixed their hair. It was still styled in the same way they'd both worn it since they were fifteen, but she'd managed to do something to them both that made their hair seem shinier and sleeker. Soft and touchable yet not a hair out of place.

“So far it doesn't look too bad,” Trowa said softly as he hit the lights to the side of them, bathing the first two rooms in warm light.

Quatre had to agree. Their furniture was still in the same places, their pictures and photos still hanging on the walls. Except someone had come through, and with an artful eye had draped and placed things here and there. A new pillow on the couch, a rug under the TV stand. Simple things that neither man had ever had the time or eye for. It was still their home. Still the place they had lived in together for almost five years. And there was a vase sitting in the middle of their cherry wood dining room table. A green glass vase filled with white and blue flowers, petals scattered around the base as if the flowers had died and dropped their petals. And the dead flowers had been pulled out and replaced with fresh ones. It was a very artful and purposeful addition.

Against his better judgment, Quatre had let his sisters plot out most of the ceremony. Their vows were their own, but everything else... Quatre and Trowa hadn't cared about it at all. As long as they could profess their love for one another before loved witnesses and be declared as husband and husband, they had no desire to be part of the planning details. So that was how Duo had been roped into being Quatre's 'maid of honor' and was walking in front of him, long braid swinging back and forth in time with the wedding march. His tuxedo was black as well, but his shirt was a purple just shades darker than his eyes; making them pop and stand out against the olive tone of his face and the soft brunette of his hair. He had even agreed to carry a small basket of flowers, all of which were a soft white. As Duo had entered, everyone rose and turned to watch the now much taller, but still petite blond as he began one of the scariest and most adrenaline filled walks of his life.

“Quatre. I've been calling your name for quite a while now,” Trowa said softly as he nuzzled at that hidden spot just behind his ear, tongue snaking out to lick at the warm flesh; teasing and making the blond snap out of his thoughts.

“Sorry Trowa-love... I've just been replaying today over and over in my head... It's too wonderful and perfect. How could I not think about it all?”

Trowa couldn't keep the grin off of his face. Quatre was right. Today... Their day had been just perfect. Blissfully perfect. Nodding in agreement, Trowa leaned forward to capture Quatre's lips in a delicate kiss, his eyes slipping closed as he lost himself in one of the first private kisses of their married life. They were broken apart not by the other, but by a loud clap of thunder; directly above their condo. Quatre gave a little jump in his husband's arms, wrapping his arms tighter around him.

“I'm glad the rain waited until after the ceremony,” Quatre said softly.

“Let's see what they've done with the bedroom. I want to make love to you. To consummate our union,” Trowa responded in an almost breathless tone.

Quatre gave the barest of nods and allowed his eyes to slip closed as Trowa began to walk them towards the bedroom. But this time, it was Trowa who lapsed into memory.

He stood at the very front of the long aisle, watching, waiting. His face betrayed nothing; blank of emotion. But on the inside, his stomach was rolling and quivering with anticipation. Palms sweaty, he resisted the urge to wipe them on his tuxedo. He was going to be a perfect husband. Trowa wasn't going to ruin their day with something so simple as fidgeting. Heero turned his face towards him and gave a nod with the barest hint of a smile. He knew just what Trowa was going through, just how much the calm mask was and how deep it ran. Trowa was saved from trying to calm his nerves by the music. The wedding march. This time, his stomach gave a pitch; reaching critical levels.

First down the aisle came Duo in his tux and purple shirt, carrying his small basket of flowers. Then... There was a gap and Trowa's breath caught in his throat. A layer of gauzy white curtains were pulled away from the back of the area; revealing a very tall dark skinned man in a simple black and white tuxedo, much like the ones that Trowa and Heero were wearing. But it wasn't Rashid that had his jaw hanging by his feet. It was the angel that was standing beside him, holding his arm.

“Trowa... God it's beautiful.”

Trowa swam up from the memory and looked past his husband. The blond was right. Their bedroom had been transformed. The large four poster was draped in white and blue and green. There was gauzy white fabric hanging from all of the posts, with dark blue sheets covering the bed, soft emerald green pillows scattered around. The lights had all been replaced to track lighting with dimmers which cast the room in a pale glow. Every available surface was covered in flower petals. From the dresser to the bedside tables and the floor. There were even petals hanging and caught in the gauzy material over their bed. The balcony was still bare, save for a small three-legged table off to the side. On the glass top sat a large silver bucket filled with ice, two long stemmed glasses and an expensive bottle of champagne, condensation leaking down the sides in slow drops. The night air was perfect temperature. Balmy warmth with a delicious cooling breeze that kicked up every few moments. The promise of rain rode the air, from the watery-damp scent that wrapped around both men, to the rolling of thunder peals and the not so far off flashes of lightning.

“Lets toast out here, shall we?” Trowa asked the angel in his arms as he set him down on the edge of the balcony, turning for the champagne.

Quatre watched the way his love-husband... The word rolled off of his tongue so easily, like a well aged wine that begged to be sipped and indulged. He rolled it around again, loving the feeling it left in the pit of his stomach and his heart to say such a word, and truly mean it. It had a physical presence. From the tall, musculature of his lover, to the simple platinum ring on his finger. Trowa was his husband, forever.

“It's surreal, isn't it Quatre?”

Quatre turned at the rich, rolling baritone of his voice and nodded. His fingers curled automatically around the stem of the champagne flute his husband handed him, his other hand moving up to his face to brush at a drop of wetness that seemed to materialize on his cheek. It wasn't tears, because his eyes were dry, and he'd cried his happy tears already today. His cheeks reddened at the memory.

After the actual ceremony to unite them, Everyone had piled into cars and limos and drove off towards the reception. Heero and Duo had forgone the ride in the wedding party limo, opting to give the newly wed couple a little privacy. Trowa held the door open for his lover, and Quatre had slid inside smoothly; seating himself on the other side, curling his legs under his body into one of his favorite relaxing positions that he usually only did at home. Trowa closed the door smartly, and turned to face his blond angel. Quatre's sea-blue eyes weren't looking at him. They were staring down at his hands. His right hand was touching, manipulating his left so he could stare at it from every possible angle. Trowa felt his face turn upwards into a smile, pleased that his lover was enraptured by the ring, that he was obviously in love. Scooting closer across the plush leather seat, Trowa reached a hand out and cupped Quatre's cheek, his palm just under the blonde's strong jawline. He lifted, tilting Quatre's face up so that he could stare into those brilliant eyes. He was going to get lost in them, fall into Quatre's eyes and simply drown as a blissfully happy man. But his plans were forgotten when he actually took the time to look at his husband. Quatre's nose was slightly upturned, and his eyes... His dark lashes were fluttering over his cheeks rapidly as he seemed to not stop blinking. Those fathomless eyes were alight, threatening to spill over with unshed tears.

“Quatre?” Trowa's voice rose with concern. His first fear was that something was wrong with his lover. That some sudden illness had overtaken him, or there was another assassination attempt of some sort. His fears were easily put to rest when his love shook his head, staring at him and blinking a large handful of times.

“I'm so happy right now Trowa... I couldn't help it, it just came out.” Having said that, Quatre reached up and began to wipe at his eyes, trying to erase the evidence of his emotion.

His hands were gently placed back into his lap by slightly larger, gentle hands, and Trowa withdrew a simple green handkerchief from the inner pocket of his suit. With the most reverent of touches, Quatre's tears were wiped away and absorbed by the silky fabric.

“Are you wearing make-up, Quatre?”

Quatre almost instantly flushed, which only confirmed Trowa's suspicions. It wasn't a bad thing, by any means. The brunette was merely curious.

“My sisters said it would make me look better, since I've been so stressed. It's helped hide the bags under my eyes. And they did something that makes my eyes pop. I wasn't paying too much attention while they were fussing over me. I was thinking about you and finally... About finally being able to be with you, in every sense of the words.”

So Quatre was telling a half truth. He had been paying attention to what his sisters had done to his face, especially to his eyes. He had agreed upon seeing the final results that his eyes stood out even more on his face. The bit of artfully done make-up made him look more innocent and more stunning all at the same time. He planned on pulling out his knowledge out when he wanted to surprise Trowa, to see his reaction to his latest beauty regiment.

Trowa gave his little blonde a smile and slid across the seat, draping his arm over those lithe yet broad shoulders; marveling again at how well Quatre had filled out, grown and muscled up while still retaining his willowy figure, that no one could mistake for female. As they settled in for the ride, Quatre rested his head against Trowa's shoulder, sighing softly as he allowed himself to get comfortable. He'd been up since the crack of dawn with his sisters, watching them get dressed, do their make-up. Before they fell on him like a pack of wild dogs on a piece of meat. There was so much fusing and teasing and applying of products. He almost didn't recognize himself when they'd finally given him a mirror to look in, but the work they had done was breathtaking.


“To our future together,” his real Trowa whispered, holding his glass up in salute.

With a shake of his head to clear away the last traces of the memory, he held his glass up in unison, letting it clink against his husband's before they both took a small swallow of the bubbly liquid. Another bit of wetness found its way to Quatre's face and he brushed it away, looking upwards to the sky, a third drop almost hitting him in the eye.

“It's raining. Well... It's starting.”

The brunette only smiled and took the glass from his lover's fingers, setting it off to the side of them, capturing those lusciously pink lips in a heated kiss full of probing tongues, lightly nipping teeth and bodily closeness. Quatre melted into that warmth and strength, gracefully accepting Trowa's tongue into his mouth with gentle sucks and timid licks against it to tease and play. Both of his arms wrapped around Trowa's neck to keep him close, while his legs parted to accommodate his lover, pulling him closer and using his body as an anchor to keep from falling backwards off the balcony. The kiss broke before either was satisfied, but Trowa's lips were demanding as they moved away to pepper kisses along a strong jawline and down a pale neck along the jugular vein.

Trowa's hands kept moving. From holding Quatre's hips, to slide up his sides under his tuxedo jacket and push the weighty fabric off of his shoulders and arms, tossing it behind him on the balcony without a backwards glance. Quatre took the initiative to mirror his husband, pushing the brunette's jacket off so it fell to the ground in a heap as his lover began to unbutton his shirt and cover the exposed skin in warm kisses. The blonde's head fell back with a vocalized cry as Trowa nibbled at one of his nipples, using his teeth to work it into a hardened nub. More rain fell onto his upturned face, the warm droplets electrifying his skin, making it hyper-sensitive and slick. Trowa smirked, his own hair and face falling victim to the warm drops, weighing his hair down as he continued to divest his little blond of his shirt and tie. Each garment was dropped to the ground in a pile where it promptly began to soak up rainwater.

“Trowa...”

“I know love, I know.”

Over a week without being able to see one another... Quatre's sisters had been adamant about the tradition of the husband not laying eyes on the 'bride' until the moment at the ceremony. While the idea was cute in principal the reality had been torture. Quatre had been confined to either his office in WE, or at the rented mansion his sisters were staying in. Working or being hoarded by his sisters for beauty treatments, fittings, rehearsals... You name it, Quatre had done it. Including one night of rather girly movies, complete with popcorn, tissues and fruity alcoholic drinks, along with trading sex stories with some of his sisters. That was his 'bachelorette' party even though he insisted his closest friends, like Heero and Duo be allowed to attend.

His friends had reported on his lover's attitude, his health. Trowa was being forced to stay with them for the week, since Quatre's sisters were also busy redecorating the condo the couple lived in. That was also how Quatre learned that for his bachelor party, Trowa had been coerced into drinking a large amount of alcohol at a rather cheesy adult game room. The rest of the night had been spend playing arcade games and sports. The last leg of the night included a very large cake that Duo and Heero received the honor of dumping the groom to be into. His poor Trowa had been covered in frosting and cake, which had taken hours to get out. The one thing the blond had been grateful for was that it hadn't happened the night before the wedding.

Needless to say, they had spent a week apart, aside from seeing one another during the rehearsals and the dinner. The sexual tension had ridden at a high level, and that wasn't helped when they both took time out of the day to send one another rather dirty text messages, or explicit picture messages. It was made worse by not actually being able to see or touch the other, and there was so little alone time... They weren't even able to have a proper masturbation to relieve some of the need.

“Make love to me Trowa... Take me as your husband.”

Trowa gave his love a smile that was warm enough to melt even the coldest of hearts and he threaded his fingers with the smaller man, tugging Quatre to stand with him even as the rain fell around them, plastering their hair to their faces. Their lips met again in a kiss which was only kept a chaste by Trowa pulling away before Quatre could even realize what was happening. With firm guidance Trowa maneuvered them until Quatre was resting on his back on their discarded jackets and shirts. The rain continued to fall around them, warming their skin even as each drop slid down their flesh to soak into their clothing.

“I love you Quatre... With my whole heart,” Trowa whispered softly.

Trowa's hands couldn't sit still, couldn't stop reverently touching his lover with the softest touches of fingers. His hands ghosted down his lover's chest, over his nipples, down his sides to those perfectly trim hips and to the waistband of his blond's expensive pants, the tips of his fingers skirting below the band to touch warm bare skin.

“Don't tease me Trowa Barton-Winner. Don't you dare tease me any more...”

The words had a tone that told Trowa to tread carefully. His husband was right though. The week of teasing and no touching had really stressed both of them out to a breaking point. They were both anxious to consummate their union as many times as they could tonight before they left on their honeymoon. Plus, the way Quatre looked... His body was writhing and wiggling... Trying to get more contact, to relieve the consuming ache that overtook his entire body from toes to fingers. Quatre thrust his hips upwards, trying to entice Trowa's fingers to go deeper or to remove his pants. To do something! The rain had his skin so sensitive and awake... He could feel every nerve ending, every little blond hair that was on his body... He was alive in such a new way that he felt like he'd burst into flames or explode if something didn't happen soon.

The subtle dance of Quatre's body did its job to steal the barely held control that Trowa had somehow managed to wrap around his libido. His mind seemed to float away from his body, and it was as if he lost spans of time. One instant, Quatre was dressed from the waist down, the next his belt was undone and pants unzipped as Trowa's mouth slid over his jaw and down his neck again, kissing and nibbling little marks into that pale perfect flesh. A warm hand slid into that opening to lightly encircle around Quatre's thick shaft just to touch it, to remember how the silken rod felt in his hand. It was perfect... Warm and throbbing, slightly wet with sweat and pre-come Quatre's shaft pulsed at the first touch of his fingers, and Trowa pulled his hand back out despite the whimpered cry his lover emitted.

“Patience Quatre-love. It's going to be worth the wait, and you know it,” Trowa spoke softly, even as his hands pulled back enough to grip Quatre's pants an remove them with a single forceful tug and some displaced weight. Now his husband lay bare underneath him and the raining sky. Trowa couldn't have asked for anything more in that moment. His hands went to his own pants and they were opened and off before either of them could blink. Dropping his body down, Trowa shielded Quatre from the worse of the rain and brought their lips together again.

Quatre's fingers slid up, the water making his hands slippery against the firm planes of the larger man's back and held on with an iron grip as Trowa continued to kiss and touch him. Their hips aligned and both cocks met together in an intimate kiss; gliding and rubbing perfectly against one another. Quatre's breath caught in his throat and his eyes flew open as a strangled cry left his throat. Trowa hid the smirk that curved his lips upwards in the crook of Quatre's neck. The sound Quatre had made went straight to his groin, and he hungered to hear more of them. Gracefully, a long fingered hand slipped between their bodies to clasp their cocks together, using their combined fluids to ease the motion of his hand. Quatre's hips thrust up, forcing his dick upwards. Both men let out loud cries that seemed to harmonize before they dropped off.

“Take me Trowa... Please love...”

“I don't have lube handy, and I don't want to stop touching you.”

Quatre nodded and flashed his husband a smile full of love and teeth and flexed his hips, making them roll and squishing their cock between their bodies. He let out another cry right in Trowa's ear, nibbling on the lobe. His breath was already coming in shallow pants, and they had just started... Quatre wasn't meant to go for a week with no contact at all from his lover. But he knew that Trowa was in the same state. Looking up through barely slitted eyes, he smiled inwardly at the epitome of masculine beauty above him. Trowa's eyes were barely open, and his head was bowed down, close to his own. Those kissable lips were parted in a small 'o' as they frot against one another under the steadily falling rain.

They weren't sure when it happened or how it happened. Their rocking and grinding gave way to a slightly faster pace, with Quatre's legs hooked around Trowa's waist and crying opening with every hard thrust against his sensitized flesh. Their breath mingled and the erotic slide of their soaked skin just seemed to ignite something... To make ever action a thousand times more intense. Quatre came first, yelling out Trowa's name as his grip around his husband tightened with all of the strength his frame held. His body spasmed once before he ejaculated in Trowa's hand in short bursts, and his eyes screwed shut with the overwhelming pleasure that burned through his veins. Trowa lasted seconds longer than his husband before he grunted out his completion and filled his hand with his come as well.

“Quatre... Quatre I love you.”

Sea-foam blue met polished emerald and it was as if a thousand words bridged between them in the span of just a few seconds. They smiled at one another and chose not to speak any further. Quatre nodded, seeming to know what Trowa wanted, without asking and without using his space heart to discover it. Trowa took their mixed semen and leaned back onto his knees enough to bare his still hard erection. His fingers curved around his shaft and gave a few quick strokes to smear the liquid over his entirety before he met Quatre's eyes again and leaned down to give him another breath-stealing kiss.

Quatre wasn't afraid, and he wasn't scared. Yes it had been a week, but his body still remembered, still knew how to take his lover into his body. Letting out a shaky breath, he allowed his eyes to slip closed, and his face to turn to the side as his fingers slid down his body. Trowa watched with lust-crazed eyes as his blond lifted his hips up and with a hand on each ass cheek, spread his body open. It was a written invitation, that Trowa couldn't say no to. With a brisk nod, Trowa moved closer, holding his cock by the base as he aligned the tip with that winking and beckoning portal. Quatre bit on his lower lip as he felt that hardness nudging, barely pressing. All of the breath left his body in a rush as his limbs went limp in a state of relaxation and pure unadulterated need.

With a shallow breath, Trowa began to breach his lover with a gentle but firm push. He met with resistance, but stayed strong and carefully inched forward, watching Quatre's face and listening to his body to make sure he wasn't hurting his lover. Quatre trembled underneath him, but took every agonizingly slow inch that Trowa gave him. When he was only half way embedded, he pulled out and allowed Quatre's hole a moment to recover from the sensation of being filled again. The blond was grateful and swung his face around to stare at Trowa until his lips were swallowed up in a kiss full of probing tongues and heated touches.

Pulling away with a smile, Trowa hooked one of Quatre's legs over his shoulder and began to enter him again, this time able to sink the entire way into his lover; his pelvis resting snuggly against Quatre's ass. They took in huge gulps of air, both for different reasons. Quatre to adjust to being filled, trying to fight back against the burning, stretching pain. Trowa so he wouldn't lose control and start thrusting before his husband was ready. But finally... Oh god finally they were both ready...

Quatre wrapped one arm around Trowa's neck to keep his face close so he could kiss him and keep the rain out of his face, and the other hand was pinned to the balcony beside his head; fingers entwined with his husband. Their eyes met as their grips locked, and what they saw reflected in one another's eyes was the same single word.

Forever.

Slow, drawn out thrusts started, Quatre letting out a gasping cry at the top of each stroke as that cock filling him managed to strike at his prostate with every hit. Sweat slid down their bodies, mixing with the rain as they made love to one another. Their eyes never left the other, and it was if their bodies and souls were merging together with all of the emotion that passed between them without speaking, and without the link of Quatre's space heart. Every sensation, every emotion was more potent than they could ever remember it being, and it only brought them closer together, bonded them on an even deeper level.

A deep kiss was all the signal that Trowa needed, and he picked up his pace, sliding in faster and deeper, spurred on by a sudden clench in his gut that meant he'd be coming sooner than he would want to be. Quatre's shaft was rubbed continually by the cocoon of their abdomens and his own peak was only moments off. A sudden deeper thrust had him arching his back and crying out; free hand clawing marks down Trowa's back. A whimper rose up from his throat as the tip of the cock embedded in his body seemed to just rub and grind against his hidden gland, making him see sparks behind his open eyes. One last thrust and Quatre came, his back arched in an almost painful angle, his body clenching and going stiff with orgasm. His cock pulsed between their bodies, draining his balls dry.

That was what Trowa had been waiting for, to feel his lover give way and let his control go. His last few thrusts were more savage than human as he felt that delicious clenching of Quatre's sphincter rob him of the very last shreds of his control. His own cock gave several pulses as he filled Quatre's orifice to the brim with a physical proof of his love. He collapsed, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Quatre's leg slipped from his arm and fell to the balcony in a limp heap.

Gentle fingers tangled in his matted hair and he smiled, letting out a soft rumble; a human equivalent of a purr. Trying not to crush his lover, he tried to shield him from the worst of the downpour that now fell in heavy wet drops onto their bodies.

“Always and forever Trowa... I love you.”

“I love you too my blond angel. Through thick and thin.”

They remained on the ground, entangled with one another until Quatre's back began to protest being on the hard surface, and Trowa's knees voiced a similar complaint. Not to mention it wouldn't be a good honeymoon if they were both sick from being out in the rain all night, despite the warm temperature. With a soft groan, Trowa withdrew himself from Quatre's body and stood, knees trembling slightly at being forced to stand. But he held strong and helped Quatre stand and together they made their way inside. Trowa turned down the blankets and Quatre merely flopped between them, too tired to clean up or even towel off. Trowa couldn't agree more, and settled with him, covering them both with the blankets. Quatre curled onto his side, pulling Trowa close to him as his living teddy bear and promptly passed out, too exhausted from everything that had happened in the past week to keep awake for a second longer. Trowa watched as his breathing evened out and he slipped away into sleep. The smile remained on his face as he tucked a strand of hair behind Quatre's ear and placed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Together forever my Quatre-angel.”