hee!
Boy, if I got paid for screwing around, I'd have really earned my keep today. >.>;; Anyway! In response to the thread that followed Pond's bringing of the funny, I now give you ficlet smut! Enjoy!



"Make sure the door's locked - how much time do we have left?"

"Seventeen minutes, twenty-three seconds. Why are you worried about the door being locked? It's not like someone's going to walk in on us in our own car, especially with the windows fogged up."

"Yeah? Well, I don't see any fog on the windows yet, I just see you flapping your - mmmpfh...mmm..."

Trowa cut him off, lips and tongue stopping Quatre's words and stealing his air. His hands scratched down Quatre's body, wrinkling his shirt and tugging impatiently at his belt.

"Mmm...mm - fuck...what the hell is this thing, a chastity belt?"

"I told you the buckle was sticky."

"It's not going to be the only sticky thing in here if it doesn't...ah, there we go."

"Ohhh...God, I love the way you touch my cock..."

"I love watching you get hard in my hand...and I really love the way you taste."

Trowa's hands, sure and solid, and his mouth - so very warm and tight...Quatre all but wriggled between the two, hands and mouth, touching him and shoving his pants down further and touching him more and there, yes!

"Ah! Oh God...oh, yesnnghgod! Your mouth, Trowa...God, your mouth..."

He looked up and grinned; that wicked, calculating grin that only Quatre got to see - the one that promised heat and orgasm and pleasure and perversion. "You did tell me to suck your left nut."

"I'm a fucking genius, then. On your back - let's fuck."

"No, turn around - on your knees, brace yourself on the back of the seat."

"Mmm...I love it when you're demanding."

"Does this mean I'm not getting my spanking later?"

"Oh, no - you're still getting your spanking. I love it just as much when you're compliant and obedient. Ohhh...ohmyfucking - more! All of it! Don't fucking tease..."

Trowa pushed forward just a touch and pulled back farther. "Now, am I supposed to be demanding or compliant and obedient here?"

"Nngh - we're running out of time! Just hurry up and - AH! Yes...fuck...yes!"

Trowa's chest was flush against Quatre's back, only standard-issue cotton uniform shirts between them. His arms held Quatre fast, tight - a never-let-go embrace. Quatre pushed himself back, closer, the back of his head nestled in the crook of Trowa's neck. His arms buckled, leaving him balanced with his elbows digging into the cushioned curve of the seat back. With a groan Trowa fell with him, forward and into him. Trowa's hand slid down Quatre's stomach as he licked at the side of Quatre's mouth, taking rough hold of his cock. They came, one after the other, with whispered words and sounds that surrounded them in perfect quiet and shared breath; in heartbeats and words between words; in the trust of private conversations held in public places. It was several minutes of this shared quiet before either of them could speak, voices throaty and spent.

"How much time do we have before Une gets back?"

"We're overdue by ten minutes."

"Whoops."

"Darn the luck."

"Maybe we should just take the rest of the afternoon off. I mean, we're late anyway."

"This is the attitude of the billionaire CEO."

"Hey, I know when to cut my losses, and when to develop my assets."

"You keep wiggling like that and your assets won't be making it out of this car for another couple of hours."

"Oh, what a shame. However will I cope?"

"You're tough - you'll find a way."

Quatre chuckled and turned, pushing Trowa back and tucking him back into his trousers. "You talk too much."

"Yeah," Trowa grinned. "I get that a lot."


*end!*