'First Night' for valenstyne
Title: First Night
Recipient: valenstyne
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: yaoi, the world's lightest lime
Summary: Trowa's first night sharing a bed with someone else.
Author's Notes: You wanted fluffy 3x4, you got fluffy 3x4 <3
Author: scacao
Trowa woke and, for a moment, was not sure why. It was dark and silent in the room, thick shades drawn tight against spacious windows, no sound save a minute whir of the air conditioning, audible only when he strained to listen for it. But he had spent many more years as a soldier than as a civilian and he trusted the instinct that had woken him, though nothing appeared amiss.
Just as he was about to switch on the light and thoroughly inspect the room, turn the furniture upside down if he had to, he realized what it was: for the first time in his life, there was a body in the bed beside him. A body that, at that moment, had turned and curled tightly into the junction of his shoulder and neck.
Trowa relaxed, a little embarrassed with himself. He should have supposed this would take some getting used to. The last time he had been in this close proximity to another person, they had not survived the encounter.
The intimacy of taking another man's life, he knew very well. Hell, he had become something of an expert at it.
This kind of intimacy, however, was another matter entirely.
A slim arm snaked its way around Trowa's bare waist. Delicate breath fanned out against his collarbone. The skin against his own, miles of it, was warm and tantalizingly soft. He had been surprised at that warmth, earlier, the velvet smooth feel of it under his fingers, burning at his touch. He hadn't thought another person would be so warm, somehow. It had left him breathless, that close, vital heat.
He was no longer on alert, yet he was now wide awake all the same. He took stock of his surroundings more out of habit than necessity: the bed he slept in was wide and spacious, the sheets crisp and expensive. This was clearly not his room. In fact, this bedroom could comfortably house his entire trailer.
He knew that beyond the tightly drawn curtains lay the sparkling night skyline of L-4's capital city. He knew he was on the thirtieth floor of one of the most elite apartment buildings in the most elite neighbourhood of that city, in the penthouse of one its most elite residents.
And he knew that the only way anyone ever entered this apartment was as the personal guest of a member of the Winner family-- in particular, the member who was currently draped around him, his golden head tucked under Trowa's chin.
That even breathing against his shoulder coalesced into a sigh, then into a sleepy press of lips against his skin, a gentle stretch of that lithe body against his.
There was a soft whisper, “Mm...Trowa?”
He glanced down in the darkness and watched enormous blue eyes, clear like unbroken sky, blink slowly awake, shift upwards to meet his gaze.
“Did I wake you?”
Delicate lips curved in a tiny smile. “No.”
There was a curl of fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, and then Quatre's soft mouth pressed to his, kiss lazy with the remnants of sleep. Without consciously meaning to, Trowa found himself pulling Quatre close, wrapping his arms around that thin body, letting that incredible warmth wash over him, letting his body react, his skin flush, his heartbeat grow to pounding in his chest. Quatre sighed against his mouth, fingers tightening in his hair. He tasted sweet and bitter, like wine and sex, and Trowa thought he might never get enough.
When Quatre pulled away, he could feel the disappointment show on his face, and Quatre offered him an apologetic smile as he propped himself up on his elbows to peer at him in the darkness.
“You couldn't sleep?”
He reached out a hand to brush Trowa's hair out of his eyes and Trowa grabbed it instead and kissed it. Quatre watched him with an intensity that sent shivers down Trowa's spine. “I only woke up a minute ago.”
And now that intensity was sharpening, honing in on some emotion that Quatre had sensed in him. He had a way of opening him up with just a gaze-- it would have unnerved him if it wasn't so utterly guileless.
He supposed that ability to read beneath the surface of Trowa's calm exterior was what had led to them becoming friends in the first place, was what had given Quatre the confidence to push them over the edge into something more. For all his years of wanting something he had only barely understood from his best friend, Trowa had been much too scared to make that move himself. Just as it had been on that battlefield on Earth so many years ago, Quatre had stepped out first, and Trowa had followed, hands up, never happier to surrender in his life.
As quick as that intense gaze had appeared, it softened, those wide eyes a shadowed ocean green in the darkness.
“I'm new at this, too, you know.”
Trowa smiled. Somehow, Quatre always knew.
“I know.”
Quatre's eyes shifted away. “For a second, I was afraid it was something else.”
Trowa's body moved before his mind caught up, and when it did, he already had Quatre lying beneath him, his hands sunk into the soft hair at the nape of that delicate neck. From there, it was the easiest thing in the world to claim his mouth, answer that unspoken question with a decisive swipe of his tongue. Quatre's arms twisted around his back, strong, possessive in their grip, body heat a thrumming current between them.
“Please,” Quatre said when they broke apart, a little breathless, “correct me like that more often.”
Trowa chuckled, breath just as short, heart beating a strange staccato against his ribs. He pulled Quatre to him again, and they lost themselves once more in the heat, the taste, the dazzling newness of each other. Trowa had thought Quatre would never look more beautiful than he had standing in the Earth's sunlight, dwarfed beneath Sandrock's massive expanse, showing him that open, gentle smile for the first time. But there, holding him close among the sea of sheets in that equally massive bed, he was more than beautiful; he was radiant. He glowed in passion. He dazzled in Trowa's love for him.
Later, they lay again intertwined in blissful exhaustion, Trowa occupying every contour and shadow of Quatre's back. He pressed his lips to soft blond hair and felt sleep once again creep back to him.
“I suppose this will take some getting used to,” Quatre whispered, finding that space between Trowa's shoulder and neck and nestling into it.
“Yeah.” Trowa curled an arm around that slim waist. “We're going to need a lot of practice.”
Quatre laughed.
“Oh, yeah. Tons.”
Trowa let his eyes slide closed. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“Well, I'm up for it.”
Trowa smiled as he felt himself succumb for good.
“Me too.”
The End
Recipient: valenstyne
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: yaoi, the world's lightest lime
Summary: Trowa's first night sharing a bed with someone else.
Author's Notes: You wanted fluffy 3x4, you got fluffy 3x4 <3
Author: scacao
Trowa woke and, for a moment, was not sure why. It was dark and silent in the room, thick shades drawn tight against spacious windows, no sound save a minute whir of the air conditioning, audible only when he strained to listen for it. But he had spent many more years as a soldier than as a civilian and he trusted the instinct that had woken him, though nothing appeared amiss.
Just as he was about to switch on the light and thoroughly inspect the room, turn the furniture upside down if he had to, he realized what it was: for the first time in his life, there was a body in the bed beside him. A body that, at that moment, had turned and curled tightly into the junction of his shoulder and neck.
Trowa relaxed, a little embarrassed with himself. He should have supposed this would take some getting used to. The last time he had been in this close proximity to another person, they had not survived the encounter.
The intimacy of taking another man's life, he knew very well. Hell, he had become something of an expert at it.
This kind of intimacy, however, was another matter entirely.
A slim arm snaked its way around Trowa's bare waist. Delicate breath fanned out against his collarbone. The skin against his own, miles of it, was warm and tantalizingly soft. He had been surprised at that warmth, earlier, the velvet smooth feel of it under his fingers, burning at his touch. He hadn't thought another person would be so warm, somehow. It had left him breathless, that close, vital heat.
He was no longer on alert, yet he was now wide awake all the same. He took stock of his surroundings more out of habit than necessity: the bed he slept in was wide and spacious, the sheets crisp and expensive. This was clearly not his room. In fact, this bedroom could comfortably house his entire trailer.
He knew that beyond the tightly drawn curtains lay the sparkling night skyline of L-4's capital city. He knew he was on the thirtieth floor of one of the most elite apartment buildings in the most elite neighbourhood of that city, in the penthouse of one its most elite residents.
And he knew that the only way anyone ever entered this apartment was as the personal guest of a member of the Winner family-- in particular, the member who was currently draped around him, his golden head tucked under Trowa's chin.
That even breathing against his shoulder coalesced into a sigh, then into a sleepy press of lips against his skin, a gentle stretch of that lithe body against his.
There was a soft whisper, “Mm...Trowa?”
He glanced down in the darkness and watched enormous blue eyes, clear like unbroken sky, blink slowly awake, shift upwards to meet his gaze.
“Did I wake you?”
Delicate lips curved in a tiny smile. “No.”
There was a curl of fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, and then Quatre's soft mouth pressed to his, kiss lazy with the remnants of sleep. Without consciously meaning to, Trowa found himself pulling Quatre close, wrapping his arms around that thin body, letting that incredible warmth wash over him, letting his body react, his skin flush, his heartbeat grow to pounding in his chest. Quatre sighed against his mouth, fingers tightening in his hair. He tasted sweet and bitter, like wine and sex, and Trowa thought he might never get enough.
When Quatre pulled away, he could feel the disappointment show on his face, and Quatre offered him an apologetic smile as he propped himself up on his elbows to peer at him in the darkness.
“You couldn't sleep?”
He reached out a hand to brush Trowa's hair out of his eyes and Trowa grabbed it instead and kissed it. Quatre watched him with an intensity that sent shivers down Trowa's spine. “I only woke up a minute ago.”
And now that intensity was sharpening, honing in on some emotion that Quatre had sensed in him. He had a way of opening him up with just a gaze-- it would have unnerved him if it wasn't so utterly guileless.
He supposed that ability to read beneath the surface of Trowa's calm exterior was what had led to them becoming friends in the first place, was what had given Quatre the confidence to push them over the edge into something more. For all his years of wanting something he had only barely understood from his best friend, Trowa had been much too scared to make that move himself. Just as it had been on that battlefield on Earth so many years ago, Quatre had stepped out first, and Trowa had followed, hands up, never happier to surrender in his life.
As quick as that intense gaze had appeared, it softened, those wide eyes a shadowed ocean green in the darkness.
“I'm new at this, too, you know.”
Trowa smiled. Somehow, Quatre always knew.
“I know.”
Quatre's eyes shifted away. “For a second, I was afraid it was something else.”
Trowa's body moved before his mind caught up, and when it did, he already had Quatre lying beneath him, his hands sunk into the soft hair at the nape of that delicate neck. From there, it was the easiest thing in the world to claim his mouth, answer that unspoken question with a decisive swipe of his tongue. Quatre's arms twisted around his back, strong, possessive in their grip, body heat a thrumming current between them.
“Please,” Quatre said when they broke apart, a little breathless, “correct me like that more often.”
Trowa chuckled, breath just as short, heart beating a strange staccato against his ribs. He pulled Quatre to him again, and they lost themselves once more in the heat, the taste, the dazzling newness of each other. Trowa had thought Quatre would never look more beautiful than he had standing in the Earth's sunlight, dwarfed beneath Sandrock's massive expanse, showing him that open, gentle smile for the first time. But there, holding him close among the sea of sheets in that equally massive bed, he was more than beautiful; he was radiant. He glowed in passion. He dazzled in Trowa's love for him.
Later, they lay again intertwined in blissful exhaustion, Trowa occupying every contour and shadow of Quatre's back. He pressed his lips to soft blond hair and felt sleep once again creep back to him.
“I suppose this will take some getting used to,” Quatre whispered, finding that space between Trowa's shoulder and neck and nestling into it.
“Yeah.” Trowa curled an arm around that slim waist. “We're going to need a lot of practice.”
Quatre laughed.
“Oh, yeah. Tons.”
Trowa let his eyes slide closed. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“Well, I'm up for it.”
Trowa smiled as he felt himself succumb for good.
“Me too.”
The End