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Ready...Aim...Fire

Talya FireDancer

 


Duo wriggled more comfortably in his vantage point and lifted the compact little gun again, practice-sighting along the line where his target would appear. The bug he’d planted had just informed him that the target was rolling. Soon would be the time for action, after what seemed like hours of waiting.

 

He shifted a little, trying to ease a muscle in his leg that had cramped. Even flexible Trowa would’ve had problems getting into this space. But he’d been chasing after THIS particular target for a long time, so he figured it was worth it.

 

If he could still walk when he crawled out of here. . .

 

The man appeared, stepping briskly up the hallway, his hands occupied. Duo clenched his teeth and waited. . .waited. . .

 

Just as the man began to move past his hidden vantage point, Duo sighted and fired simultaneously.

 

*BINGO!*

 

Duo nearly yelped aloud in triumph. The projectile he’d fired had met precisely with his target.

 

Quatre’s servant moved on, oblivious to the presence of a little "addition" Duo had fired carefully into the steaming mug of liquid on his tray. Duo smirked.

 

That pellet had cost him a pretty penny.

 

"You’re sure it will work?" Duo had asked dubiously, eyeing the tiny gray pellet in his palm, then looking back up at the shifty-eyed street vendor.

 

"Of course I’m sure," the man had assured him. "That stuff would arouse a stick. It’s the most powerful aphrodisiac on the black market."

 

"I hope it’ll work on Heero," Duo had muttered, paying the vendor.

 

"That pellet could give a corpse one last raging hard-on," the vendor had replied with a wink.

 

Duo hummed softly to himself as he climbed out of his cramped hiding place, his leg nearly collapsing under him. Heh heh. . .once that pellet took effect on Heero, finally he’d get the opening he had been searching for. He just had to make sure he was there when it started to work!

 

Another servant rushed up the hallway, nearly spilling his tray in his haste. Duo, on his way to dispose of the evidence, didn’t notice.

 

* * *

 

Quatre sighed and stretched lazily. It was nice to have some time off for awhile, and he’d invited the four other pilots to spend the time at this nice little mountain retreat. He had woken up late, delighting in the opportunity to do so, and rolled over in bed to call for a tray of tea and breakfast.

 

One of his servants knocked quietly, then entered the room with a tray. Quatre brightened and sat up.

 

"I’m starved," he announced as the servant set the fold-up tray over his lap, nodding and smiling at his words. "Thank you."

 

Quatre picked up his tea and began to sip. Hmm. It tasted a bit different today – maybe the cook and used a different brand, or this batch was getting old. He made a face and swallowed more of it anyway.

 

* * *

 

Duo knocked on Heero’s door and pushed it open without waiting for an answer.

 

Heero was seated at a computer he’d set up and plugged into the wall, staring intently at streams of data that flowed over its screen.

 

"Gawd, can’t you ever give it a rest?" Duo demanded, bouncing into the room with his usual cheer and vigor.

 

Heero flicked him the kind of glance an insect would receive and returned his attention to the computer.

 

Duo’s eye fell on the tray that was still sitting on the bed, and he nearly chortled aloud. The cup had been drained dry, only little bits of coffee ground remaining in the bottom. Heh heh. He wondered how long it would take for the stuff to work.

 

"So, Heero, what’cha doing?" he asked, walking up to peer over the Japanese pilot’s shoulder. "Ya know, you really shouldn’t be working on a holiday! What’s the point? Think you’ll get ahead in the war or something? Heero Yuy, a one-man war!" Duo chuckled.

 

"Shut up, Duo," Heero muttered, eyes fixed on the computer screen. "You talk too much."

 

"And you don’t talk enough, so I guess we balance each other out! Funny how stuff like that works sometimes, isn’t it?" Duo grinned, stepping even closer to Heero. He contained a worried little frown as he wondered again how long that pellet would take. And how would he know? Would Heero pounce on him and tear his clothes off? He grinned again at the thought.

 

Heero looked over at him, frowning. "Duo. . .why are you pressing up against my leg?"

 

"Huh? Uh, oh. . .no reason. . ." Duo said vaguely, twirling the end of his braid around. Dammit, that vendor had said that pellet could arouse a corpse! Maybe Heero really WAS inhuman. . .

 

Heero blinked. "Duo."

 

Duo swallowed hard. "Yes, Heero?"

 

"If you keep rubbing up against my leg, I’ll beat you black and blue."

 

Duo gave him a delighted smile. "You promise?"

 

"N-nani!?" Heero sputtered, eyes wide with shock.

 

Wow! THAT had provoked a reaction! Absently Duo wondered if some of the pellet was somehow affecting *him.* He was starting to feel very, very warm. Then he remembered. Some time after shoving the pellet into the little gun, he had licked his fingers. Oops.

 

Duo pressed up against Heero’s thigh again, shifting a little to feel the hard muscles of the other boy’s leg against him. Heero drew his brows tautly together in a frown, raising a hand swiftly to strike him.

 

He expected to get hit, or smacked, or punched in the face. He *didn’t* expect the hand that shot out to grab his braid, yanking him down across Heero’s lap. Duo squirmed, wriggling a little as the mound of his rapidly-hardening erection was rubbed across Heero’s legs and then painfully trapped.

 

"I said," Heero’s voice repeated, dreadfully quiet, "I’d beat you black and blue."

 

"Heero?" Duo said hopefully. "Are you going to spank me?"

 

There was a long pause as the Japanese pilot digested this. A month ago someone had slipped a copy of the Kama Sutra into his room, and he had studied the entire book thoroughly. He was pretty sure he could do most of that stuff. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity, and here Duo was, volunteering for a beating.

 

"Yes," Heero replied, and his hand descended in a sharp, brutal blow.

 

* * *

 

Trowa had slept in, and he rubbed at his eyes, disoriented at the strange angle of the sun. . .why, it must be nearly noon. . .he usually NEVER let himself sleep so late. But he’d been exhausted lately because of the fitful nature of his slumber. Sleeping here at Quatre’s house, however, somehow made him feel safe.

 

He wrapped the sheet around him a bit tighter, allowing himself to dwell on the golden-haired boy who had been occupying his thoughts more and more frequently of late. The feelings confused him a little, mostly because he’d decided he could never do anything about them. Why on earth would Quatre ever be interested in *him?* He was smart, rich, handsome. . .some beautiful, well-connected girl would undoubtedly catch his eye and marry him someday.

 

"Oh Trooooowa. . ." someone breathed just behind his neck, the warm little wisp of air tickling him.

 

"AAAAUGH!"

 

The normally stoic pilot of Gundam Heavyarms fell out of bed, taking the sheet with him. He stared wild-eyed up at a beaming Quatre, whose blond hair was brilliantly illuminated by the sun streaming through the window, making him look like a young Adonis. In passing he noted that Quatre was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.

 

"Good morning!" Quatre chirped brightly.

 

"Qu-quatre! How – how’d you get in here!?" Trowa stammered, unable to believe that Quatre had somehow sneaked into his bed through that door without his noticing.

 

"Secret passage!" Quatre replied with a wink. "This place is full of them."

 

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, winding the sheet more tightly around his torso. He was wearing just boxers, too, and the sight of a nearly-nude Quatre looming over him wasn’t doing much to help that nagging little morning reflex.

 

"I came to see you!" Quatre crowed happily, pouncing off the bed and tackling him.

 

Trowa let out a surprised ‘oof’ as Quatre’s full weight thudded onto his chest. He froze in shock as the golden-haired boy sat on him, straddling his hips, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning over him.

 

"Qu-quatre. . .?" he stuttered, then his eyes got very wide as he realized just exactly what that hard, faintly throbbing mound pressing against his lower abdomen was.

 

Trowa was beyond shock. He passed out, a thin little trickle of blood spurting from one nostril.

 

"Trooowa! That’s no fun!" Quatre pouted as the taller boy’s eyes rolled up in his head, and he sagged beneath him. "We were just about to get to the fun part!"

 

He shifted a little, rubbing himself against the unconscious Trowa beneath him, then a grin lit his features as he realized that Trowa couldn’t stay unconscious *forever.* Quatre looked up, and his eyes passed over the room. An unholy grin wreathed his features as he noticed in particular the wide, backless chair. It was just long enough to accommodate Trowa’s torso lying down.

 

Getting up, Quatre began to determinedly haul the lanky boy’s torso across the room.

 

* * *

 

"Owowowowow!" Duo yelped as Heero’s hand met his bottom in a series of short, stinging whacks. He squirmed, uncomfortably aware of the hardness between his legs that moved against Heero’s leg with the force of each blow.

 

"Are you done yet!?" he demanded, getting red in the face. When Heero had said he was going to spank him, he didn’t think it would be this hard!

 

"Are you black and blue yet?" Heero countered.

 

"Huh?" Tears were starting to smart from his eyes.

 

Rough hands seized him, one shoved into the flat of his back to keep him still, while the other yanked his pants down. Duo’s eyes widened.

 

"Never figured you for a briefs type, with those huge pants you wear most of the time," Heero remarked, his hand passing over the underwear.

 

Duo closed his eyes at the sensation of Heero’s hand moving over his bottom. It was a slight, erotic sensation. He wiggled in Heero’s lap, trying to press himself up against his leg more firmly.

 

"Stop that," Heero said, swatting him again.

 

Duo yelped as his hand made contact with his already-sore skin. Then Heero’s hand resumed the light stroking that zinged over his tingling flesh. His fingers reached the band of Duo’s briefs, yanking those off as well.

 

"Well, you’re not black and blue," Heero informed him.

 

"Ah. . .don’t!" Duo blurted out, sensing Heero raising his hand again.

 

Heero paused.

 

"Isn’t there anything *else* you want to do!?" Duo demanded, desperately hoping that aphrodisiac had kicked in by NOW, saving him from Heero beating his bottom to a pulp.

 

"Anything?" Heero repeated, in a peculiar tone.

 

"Yes, anything!!" Duo almost yelled, frustrated. Heero’s spanking had only served somehow to increase the pressure in his groin, and now he was going out of his mind trying not to hump Heero’s leg.

 

"Anything," Heero repeated once more, normally steely tone gone reflective.

 

Heero’s arms seized him firmly, flipping him over and picking him up, and Duo could only wait, wide-eyed and breathless, as Heero carried him across the room and dumped him on the bed, face down.

 

"Wait here," Heero instructed, in a tone that brooked no arguments.

 

Duo nodded feebly into the comforter. Between the blistering pain searing his bottom, and the immensely throbbing hard-on grinding into the bed, he didn’t think he could walk anyway.

 

* * *

 

Quatre stood back and eyed his work, satisfied. The bindings he’d improvised hastily from the torn-up, tightly-wound sheets *should* hold, even considering Trowa’s strength. Only Heero would be able to break out of something like this.

 

Trowa lay face-up on the backless chair, still dazed but slowly regaining consciousness. His entire long torso fit onto it, and Quatre seated himself on Trowa’s hips, leaning forward to place a hand on either side of Trowa’s head, gazing into the awakening eyes. Trowa started as the weight settled on him, eyes snapping open.

 

"Quat—wha—" Trowa started, then began to struggle. He stared up at Quatre, wild-eyed. "Quatre, what are you doing!?" A tremendous blush spread across his cheeks.

 

Quatre blinked down at him. "I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move."

 

"H-huh!?"

 

He couldn’t believe his ears. Quatre Raberba Winner, the boy he had been longing after for the longest time. . .had been waiting for *him* to make a move!?

 

Trowa narrowed his eyes, tugging at the bindings at his wrists. When had Quatre gotten good at this sort of thing?

"Ah, ah!" Quatre held up a finger, then with the other hand twisted one of Trowa’s nipples. He gasped at the little shock of pain. "You had your chances and you passed them up! It’s my turn now!"

 

What!?

 

Trowa started to struggle in earnest now, bucking his hips and Quatre clung to him, laughing joyfully. He wound his arms around Trowa’s neck, then pressed his lips to his neck. Trowa stilled, suddenly uncertain. "Quatre. . .why?"

 

Quatre frowned into his face. "Because I like you, stupid." He favored Trowa with a brilliant, cherubic grin. "And I’m completely-fucking-horny!"

 

"Ah—" Trowa began to stammer, flushing a deep red before he was cut off by Quatre’s lips descending on his.

 

Quatre’s lips were warm and sweet, soft and somehow firm at the same time. He’d dreamed about those lips. He’d dreamed about putting his hands on the smooth, sleekly muscled body. . .

 

Trowa jerked a little, starting to struggle again. This somehow seemed wrong. Why would Quatre. . .why would he want *him?* Why now?

 

Quatre pulled away, frowning down on him. "What’s wrong, Trowa?"

 

"Why me? Why this. . .why *now?*" Trowa demanded, unable to make it any more eloquent than that.

 

Quatre dropped another sweet kiss on his lips. "Because," he whispered, brushing those lips against Trowa’s, "I want you. And I finally realized you’re not going to come to me first."

 

"So raping me is a good way to accomplish this?" Trowa demanded sarcastically, his voice biting and savage as he tugged pointedly at his bound wrists.

 

Quatre stared down at him, wide brilliant blue eyes starting to brim over. "You don’t like me?" His voice wobbled.

 

"Ack—Quatre. . .that’s not what I meant—"

 

A tear splashed onto Trowa’s chest.

 

"Quatre, stop, I didn’t—"

 

Another tear followed, and Trowa stared helplessly up into Quatre’s amazing, beautiful, gem-brilliant blue eyes. He *wanted* Quatre, he was forced to admit that, but he had never thought himself worthy of the smallest morsel of affection the golden-haired pilot had to offer. Apparently he was determined to give it to him anyway.

 

"Quatre," Trowa said firmly, "stop crying. I like you. I really, really like you."

 

"You do?" Quatre brightened, and the waterworks ceased instantly.

 

Trowa suddenly felt like he’d been suckered. "Yeah."

 

"Good! Now we can get on to the fun part!"

 

"Wha—"

 

Anything else he might’ve said was spoken directly down Quatre’s throat as the enthusiastic Arabian pilot plastered his lips to Trowa’s, tongue forcing his mouth open in a deep, passionate kiss.

 

* * *

 

Duo blinked as something hard smacked into his back, and stayed there. It felt square, and. . .actually, rather like a book.

 

"Heero?" Duo mumbled suspiciously, turning his head. "What’s that?"

 

"A copy of the Kama Sutra," Heero replied calmly, and Duo could feel his weight settling on the bed.

 

"WHAT!?" he yelled, trying to roll over. The copy he’d planted in Heero’s room last month!? Why was he getting that out *now?*

 

"You said I could do anything," Heero frowned, and Duo could just barely see his face as he twisted, the book sliding off his back. Duo hissed as one sore buttock touched the bed, and hastily laid on his stomach once more.

 

"I know I did! But what were you going to do, leaf through the damned thing while we went at it!?"

 

Heero blinked at him. "Actually. . ."

 

Duo groaned. "I can’t believe this. You are such a nerd. Honestly, ya give a guy a copy of the Kama Sutra and all he knows how to do is read it. . ." He blinked, then clapped a hand to his mouth. "D’oh!"

 

Heero leaned down next to him, intense cobalt eyes boring into his. "You’re the one who did that?"

 

"Um. . .yeah," Duo gulped.

 

"Why?" A little frown creased his brows.

 

"Why do you think, stupid!?" Duo snapped back reflexively, before he could stop himself. "Because maybe I wanted you to use some of that on ME!"

 

Heero just lay there for a moment, his blue gaze hardening, boring into Duo’s eyes as if he could peer through them and glance around the inside contents of his skull. *Oh shit,* Duo thought uneasily. *I’ve probably pissed him off now.*

 

What happened next was even more shocking than Heero spanking him.

 

Heero kissed him.

 

Duo froze like a deer in headlights, staring into Heero’s half-closed cobalt eyes, then wondered if Heero would take it badly if he started to hyperventilate.

 

Then he closed his eyes, and let the kiss progress naturally. Heero moved closer, hooking an arm around his waist and drawing him in, and just when Duo was starting to wonder if he should try to stick his tongue into Heero’s mouth he felt a wet, tentative swipe at his bottom lip. He parted his lips and Heero slipped his tongue inside, feeling out the contours of his mouth.

 

A slight tremor went through Heero’s body and Duo felt a pang of concern. God, the guy really must be a complete virgin – he was about to break away when Heero pulled him taut against his body, inhaling sharply as he crushed his lips to the American pilot’s as if he could draw out his very essence with the force of his kiss.

 

Duo was drowning. Only drowning never felt this good. He slid a hand up around Heero’s neck, burying it in his thick, soft hair. Heero’s tongue moved against his slowly, almost teasingly, then quickened against the roof of his mouth in urgent undulations. Oh, for a first kisser he was gooood. Duo could’ve kissed him all afternoon.

 

Heero had other ideas.

 

He pulled away, his eyes half-opening into smoldering coals. Duo grinned at him.

 

"That was nice," he began, "but if you—"

 

Heero shoved a finger against his lips, his eyes hardening. "Shut up," he growled.

 

Duo’s eyes widened but he nodded.

 

Heero pushed him over, down onto the bed, and Duo gasped, his whole body tensing as his sore butt came in contact with the surface. He winced at the pain, barely noticing as hands moved down the front of his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly, pulling it off. Then his eyes came wide open again as he felt Heero’s mouth on his bared chest, closing over a nipple.

 

He moaned softly as Heero moved further down, and a hand brushed between his legs. Heero’s tongue tickled his navel, teasing him, dipping inside, his mouth and lips working at the surrounding skin. His hand parted Duo’s thighs and Duo just lay there basking in pure sensation as fingers began to tease upward, inward, and Heero bit and sucked at his skin, and his hand started to. . .started to. . .

 

His hand stopped.

 

Duo lifted his head slightly as Heero’s mouth disappeared as completely as his hand had. He looked down at Heero.

 

Heero was looking down at the Kama Sutra. The wayward hand had flipped the book open and he was scanning down one of the pages.

 

Duo sweatdropped.

 

"Heero. . .I’m gonna KILL you. . .stop reading that book and finish what you started!"

 

* * *

 

Trowa closed his eyes tightly and tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that was telling him maybe it wasn’t so bad, after all, to be tied up.

 

Quatre’s lips moved down further.

 

"Quatre—are you sure about this—" Trowa gasped, trying one last time to appeal to the golden-haired boy’s better nature and untie him.

 

"Mmph," Quatre murmured against his stomach.

 

"Couldn’t we just do this without the bondage?" Trowa wheedled, uncharacteristically voluble in his desire to be free. So that he could *tackle* his angelically-seeming little tormentor, and make him suffer every single last thing he’d been put through – right down to the belly-button teasing, the armpit tickling, the gigantic hickies he would surely have on his neck, the red marks on his thighs from where Quatre had slapped him, the toe slurping. . . Oh yes. He WOULD pay.

 

"Nope!" Quatre replied happily, almost as if he could sense Trowa’s vengeful thoughts. His hand closed over Trowa’s rock-hard penis and he couldn’t help gasping, arching his hips to the touch. "What’s this?" Quatre giggled playfully.

 

"It’s not a flute," Trowa responded, his breath catching.

 

"Yeah, but I can still blow on it!"

 

A moan fluttered past his lips as Quatre’s lips closed over him, sucking tentatively at first, then becoming more demanding. Trowa lost himself in the sensations flowing through his skin, just beneath the surface, focusing between his legs. He nearly yelped when one of Quatre’s sturdy hands worked its way under his bottom, and a finger slid inside of him.

 

"What the—"

 

Quatre sucked on him harder, moving his head up and down, and Trowa relaxed again. Actually, that finger as it worked around inside of him was starting to feel – rather nice. A little frown settled between his brows and he began to rock his hips between both sensations. Quatre slid another finger inside of him and he hissed a little bit as it stretched the tight, gripping ring of flesh.

 

Trowa started to groan, moving his hips faster. Abruptly Quatre was gone, lips and fingers leaving him hanging as he strained at nothing, and growled, wrists tugging uselessly at his bonds again.

 

Quatre squirmed between his legs, lifting them up, hooking them around his waist, then leaning forward with an angelic expression as he guided his own hardness to the right place. Very carefully, he began to push inside.

 

"Trowa?"

 

"Hunh?"

 

"This is okay, right?"

 

Trowa bit his lip as Quatre moved further inside, starting to pant.

 

"NOW you ask me!?"

 

* * *

 

"OW! Owowow. . ." Duo winced away. Why on EARTH he’d thought this would be a good idea, he didn’t know. Oh wait, he did know. He thought HE’D get to be on top.

 

"Quit whining," Heero scowled at him.

 

"Maybe if you’d start doing it right. . ." Duo muttered.

 

"What was that!?" Heero demanded, plunging forward. His weight settled on top of Duo.

 

"So help me god, you’d better not be done!" Duo nearly shrieked. "If you are, that was the WORST lay I’ve EVER had—"

 

"Will you shut up," Heero commanded irritably, shifting inside of Duo. He began to move his hips in taut, rolling circles and Duo sighed, wiggling back against him. "This was all YOUR idea, anyway."

 

"Well yeah, but that was before—"

 

"SHUT UP!" Heero whacked him across the back and Duo yipped in surprise, jerking forward and nearly taking Heero off of him. Heero grimly grabbed a hold on Duo’s braid and yanked him back, then grabbed his hips.

 

Both young men fell silent as their hips started to move faster, and the only thing that could be heard was the soft slap-slap of their flesh meeting, over and over. Finally Duo started to moan, biting his lip as Heero’s hand dug hard into his hip, the other one reaching to close on his throbbing shaft. Heero shoved himself urgently back and forth into Duo’s tight passage, strokes falling to pieces as his eyes rolled back in his head.

 

Duo uttered one last gasping cry as the world exploded in a shower of molten fireworks, and Heero thrust deeply into him, penis twitching as it pumped out his passion in singing gouts. He came all over the sheets and Heero’s hand.

 

The boys collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, and Heero withdrew. Duo wormed around, ignoring the pain that still streaked up from his sore bottom, and cuddled up next to Heero. The Japanese pilot opened his eyes, scowled blackly, then closed them. But his arms closed around Duo.

 

Then he grunted, scooted back, and pulled Duo towards him again.

 

Duo’s eyes flew open.

 

"Oh, YUCK!!" he yelled.

 

Heero had maneuvered him into the wet spot.

 

* * *

 

"Ah. . .oh. . .Quatre. . ." Trowa gasped, beginning to forgive the golden-haired pilot for trussing him up like a turkey.

 

It might’ve had something to do with the intense feelings of well-being he was experiencing at the moment.

 

Quatre answered with a moan, thrusting deeply into Trowa as he leaned down to kiss the French pilot’s lips, his tongue sliding deeply into his mouth for a lingering caress. Trowa lifted his hips to match the other’s rhythm as Quatre slid back and forth between his legs. He clutched at Quatre with the only thing he could, trying to wrap his legs more tightly around the smaller pilot’s waist.

 

Trowa groaned as his penis was trapped and rubbed between their bodies, growing if possible even harder with each thrust of Quatre’s hips. He began to pant hoarsely, spots swimming before his eyes – each of them bearing a strange resemblance to Quatre’s face – and shouted, as he started to come, making a thorough mess, spattering Quatre’s tight stomach moving above him, and his own.

 

"Ah. . .ah. . .ah. . .Trowa," Quatre panted, throwing his head back as he continued to rock inside of him. Trowa raised his hips obligingly to meet him, squeezing Quatre’s back with his legs.

 

After a while Trowa frowned. "Uh. . .Quatre?"

 

"Yes. . .Trowa?" Quatre gasped, still moving frantically.

 

"Are you going to come anytime soon? Or should I just go ahead and fall asleep?"

 

Quatre looked hurt. "If you do, I won’t untie you," he threatened petulantly, starting to move faster. Then he abruptly shoved his body taut against Trowa’s, hands grasping at the other pilot’s naked shoulders, and closed his eyes, mouth open in a soundless cry as a shudder went through his slight frame.

 

Trowa stared up at the beautiful sight of Quatre in the height of his passion, wishing he could reach up and pull him down for another kiss.

 

Quatre opened his eyes and beamed down at him.

 

Almost unwillingly, Trowa smiled back up.

 

Then Quatre started to move again, thrusting his member inside the tight sheath of Trowa’s rear.

 

Trowa blinked, astonished.

 

"Quatre. . .waitaminute. . .you came!"

 

"Uh huh," Quatre agreed, panting. "That was great."

 

"Why’re you—how can you—stop already, for Chrissakes!" Trowa fumed. "I came. . .you came. . .we’re done! Get off me!"

 

Quatre blinked down at him, and suddenly his eyes became wide and trembling again. His hips slowed and he merely shifted a few times, eyes beginning to brim over.

 

"You don’t like me anymore!" he wailed, looking like his face would crumple with grief.

 

"AARGH! That’s not it!" Trowa yelled, frustrated. He was just really, really sore.

 

Quatre rocked forward again, sniffling.

 

"No—Quatre, stop—don’t cry—"

 

A tear splashed down on his chest.

 

"Quatre. . .please. . ."

 

Another tear.

 

Trowa growled a curse, and surrendered to the inevitable.

 

* * *

FIVE HOURS LATER

 

"Quatre—stop—I’m too sore—"

 

Sniffle.

 

"Don’t you love me anymore?"

 

"That’s not it—you’re KILLING me!"

 

BACK IN HEERO’S ROOM

 

Duo was humming happily as he braided his hair. He watched Heero type a series of commands into the computer. All in all, it had been a very satisfying morning, especially with Heero’s surprising willingness to experiment.

 

Still, he was a little miffed.

 

The vendor had guaranteed the pellet would last at LEAST six hours.

 

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