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Quatre looked in the mirror, nervously adjusting his tie. He looked at himself critically. He always thought he looked ridiculous in a formal suit, like a kid playing dress up. And why was he nervous, anyway? He had been to the opera a thousand times, dressed up like this. But never with Trowa, he added mentally. He looked in the mirror again, horrified to realize he was blushing. In his own room, alone. How in the world was he going to handle being alone with Trowa when he couldn't even think about it without blushing and getting aroused, he noted, looking down at himself. Luckily, his erection didn't show too much in the formal pants. Quatre sighed. They would be late if he didn't get going soon.
The pilots were staying at one of Quatre's houses between missions. It was near a large city that had an opera house, so naturally the Winner family owned a large private box.
Quatre could tell the other boys were somewhat bored, so he suggested that they all go see the opera company's latest production. When told the opera to be performed was "Madame Butterfly," Wufei cringed and came up with an implausible excuse that Quatre chose to accept.
Heero and Duo looked at each other, eyes widening. Duo said, "Uh, Q- man, it's not that I don't like opera," Heero coughed significantly at this, "But Heero promised to teach me... um... how to hack Pokemon Stadium tonight, you know, and ..." Duo trailed off lamely.
Quatre was just about to let Duo and Heero off the hook when Trowa spoke up, surprising him.
"Looks like it's just you and me, then, Quatre," the emerald-eyed boy said with a small smile. Trowa looked directly at him and Quatre felt a shiver that went directly from his stomach to his groin. Quatre blushed as he realized Trowa had said something else but he had totally missed it.
"S-sorry?" Quatre apologized, completely missing the smirk Heero and Duo were sharing behind him. Quatre wasn't as subtle as he thought he was about his feelings for the banged pilot.
Trowa hid a smile, feeling sorry for making Quatre uncomfortable. He had wanted to tell the blond angel how he felt about him for a long time, but he didn't feel himself to be worthy of Quatre. Trowa was happy to at least spend some time alone with the object of his affection, even if he could never tell him how he felt.
Trowa repeated, "I don't have anything formal to wear. I assume it's black tie. And I doubt anything you have would fit me," he finished with a rueful smile.
Quatre admired Trowa's tall, lithe frame, imagining him in a tuxedo, or a tailcoat, or nothing at all.... Quatre snapped his attention back to the present and tried to rein in his wandering hormones.
"Um... do you have anything black?" Quatre managed. Trowa nodded. "Then we should be fine. It's a private box, after all, and since my family practically built the new wing, I think they'll overlook not-quite- formal clothing just once."
Trowa nodded in acquiescence.
"It's all settled, then!" Quatre clapped his hands happily. I'll have the limo ready at 7, is that ok, Trowa?" Trowa nodded.
Trowa felt happy to have made his angel smile. He knew he would barely notice the opera tonight, and would just bask in a rare moment alone with Quatre. His mind wandered at the thought of Quatre in a tux, wondering what he would wear underneath.
Duo cleared his throat, and Quatre and Trowa realized they were staring at each other in silence. Both blushed as Duo began, "Well I guess me and Heero will get out of your way, then, so you can... Ouch! Watch the hair, Heero!" Duo yelled as Heero got a secure hold on his braid and tried to drag him out before the longhaired boy started babbling.
Quatre giggled as he watched them go. He hoped they would hurry up and admit their feelings to one another before he had to do it for them. Unconscious of any hypocrisy, he turned back to Trowa, wondering how he could manage to brush up against him in the limo without being too obvious.
As Quatre descended the stairs, he heard Trowa's voice call out, "The limo's out front, Quatre."
"Coming, Trowa," Quatre called out and stifled another blush at his choice of words. He was concentrating on calming the flock of butterflies in his stomach when he caught sight of Trowa waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase. Quatre gasped and nearly fell down the rest of the stairs as he saw what the other pilot was wearing.
Trowa had somehow managed to pour himself into the tightest pair of black leather pants Quatre had ever seen. Quatre didn't know how Trowa managed to zip them, let alone breathe in them. They accentuated his lean form and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Quatre somehow dragged his eyes away from Trowa's crotch to take in the fact that Trowa was also wearing a loose black silk shirt that had the effect of emphasizing his narrow waist even more. The first two buttons were undone and Quatre licked his lips at the expanse of creamy skin he could see. He had never seen Trowa in anything other than his turtleneck or flight suit. Trowa looked good enough to eat, and Quatre would have loved nothing better than to do just that.
Trowa, for his part, was so stunned by the vision that was currently descending the stairs he failed to notice that vision was currently acting rather strangely. Trowa's mouth had gone dry at the first glimpse of Quatre. The perfectly cut suit showed off his slim form to perfection, and the black made Quatre look even more luminously golden. His blond hair shone like a crown upon his exquisite head, and his wide blue eyes looked even more expressive swimming above a sea of black. Quatre couldn't have looked more like an angel if he were wearing wings. Trowa had been half-aroused in anticipation of seeing Quatre dressed up, and now his full erection ached as it was constricted by the skintight pants.
Trowa found his voice first, after clearing his throat a couple of times. "You look amazing, Quatre. I've never seen you in black."
"Thanks, Trowa," answered Quatre shyly. "You look great too."
Quatre managed to make his way down the rest of the stairs without incident. He paused beside Trowa, looked up at the banged pilot and said, "Ready?"
You don't know how ready, Trowa thought, but answered only with a nod. They proceeded out to the large black car that awaited them.
Quatre was disappointed that the limo was so large as to preclude any excuse to touch Trowa. The ride to the opera house was uneventful, and soon they arrived.
They were shown to the Winner box with a level of obsequiousness that made even Quatre blush. Complimentary champagne was presented, even though both boys were quite obviously underage. Finally, they were left alone in the small room, surrounded by yards of crushed red velvet. Most of the boxes had individual chairs, but Quatre had requested a small couch be placed in the box, especially for tonight.
"Would you like some champagne?" Quatre asked.
Trowa considered. He didn't usually drink, but he supposed one glass wouldn't hurt. Maybe it would help him relax, in fact. Looking at Quatre in the semi-darkness of the box was giving him funny feelings in his stomach. "Ok."
Quatre poured Trowa a glass, and after some consideration, poured himself one as well. Quatre didn't really like to drink, but he thought it wouldn't hurt just this once.
The two boys settled themselves on the small couch, hips nearly touching. They were both happily contemplating the prospect of nearly two hours alone together. They watched the orchestra tune up and sipped champagne. Quatre found that he greatly enjoyed just being near Trowa and chatting about meaningless things, like normal people. Like normal people on a date, he thought to himself, biting his lip to keep from giggling. Not that he had ever been on a date, but this is how he imagined it might be.
The opera was about to begin. The lights dimmed, and the audience hushed. Quatre noted with satisfaction that no one in the audience could really see into the box. It was very private. Quatre toyed with the idea of scooting closer to Trowa, on the pretense of whispering a question in his ear. Quatre finally gathered the courage to do just that. He leaned over... unfortunately just at the same time Trowa seemed to have the same idea. Their heads connected with a crack, and Trowa lost his grip on his champagne glass. He watched in horror as, seemingly in slow motion, the half full glass tumbled right into Quatre's lap. Both boys gasped.
"Oh, Quatre, I'm so sorry," said Trowa sadly. "I've ruined your pants." Trowa fumbled for a napkin to soak up the spill.
"No, that's ok, Trowa, the servants can get the stain out," said Quatre frantically, realizing that Trowa's hand was heading for his lap. He was already half-aroused, and as Trowa's hand approached his arousal grew further. His condition was not visible in the low light, but Trowa would most definitely feel it any second.
"No, please, it was my fault, let me help," insisted Trowa, pushing Quatre's hands away. Trowa began to soak up the spilled champagne when he noticed the hard bulge. Quatre is hard? He thought to himself uncomprehendingly. Why? Then realization dawned, but Trowa refused to trust it. He looked searchingly into Quatre's blue eyes.
But Quatre wouldn't meet his eyes. Quatre knew he was close to tears from the shame of his best friend finding out he was a pervert. He couldn't think of a thing to say that could explain the situation.
"Quatre, look at me," commanded Trowa. But the blond kept his eyes fixed resolutely down.
"I'm sorry, Trowa. I can't help it," Quatre said miserably. "I know you must be disgusted."
Disgusted? By Quatre? Trowa was so stunned by this thought and by the fact that Quatre might actually return his feelings that he couldn't speak. Instead, he took Quatre's hand and placed it in his own lap, so his angel could feel Trowa's own passion for him.
Quatre felt Trowa take his hand, but he wasn't prepared for what he felt next. Trowa was as hard as he was. He finally lifted his eyes to meet Trowa's, with an unspoken question.
Trowa nodded. "For you. Only for you, Quatre."
Quatre smiled tentatively. Trowa leaned forward slightly, bringing his face inches from Quatre's. "May I kiss you, Quatre?"
Quatre nodded, not trusting his voice. Trowa, his gallant knight, wanted him. Trowa, beautiful Trowa, asking permission to kiss him!
Trowa closed the distance between them, and gently pressed his lips to Quatre's. Trowa could scarcely believe he was being allowed to kiss his angel. A thousand late-night fantasies coursed through his mind as he sunk into the sweet depths of the kiss. A bolt of electricity rushed through him as Quatre opened his lips and allowed him into his perfect mouth.
Quatre was so happy he could scarcely stand it. He was kissing Trowa! He tentatively raised his hands and put them around Trowa's neck. Trowa responded by wrapping his arms around Quatre's waist and pulling him closer. The kiss deepened until Quatre thought he couldn't stand it any more. They broke apart, and gazed at each other. The opera went on below them, but neither noticed. The moment of delicious anticipation stretched out in front of them like a welcoming carpet. Then Trowa gathered Quatre into his arms and easily lifted him into his lap.
Quatre snuggled happily into Trowa's embrace, keeping his arms wrapped around Trowa's neck. He slid back slightly, and Trowa moaned softly as Quatre rubbed against his arousal. Noticing this, Quatre wiggled again, eliciting a louder moan from the green-eyed pilot. Quatre smiled a not-so-innocent smile and began to experiment. Soon, Quatre had found the perfect position and Trowa was beginning to pant.
Quatre looked at the object of his lust, who had his head thrown back and his mouth open. Quatre decided he really liked affecting the brown-haired pilot this way.
Finally, Trowa decided to turn the tables and with a growl grabbed the blond boy and turned him so that they were facing one another, Quatre's legs straddling his. Now, their arousals rubbed together and Trowa deliberately rocked his hips upwards to give Quatre a taste of his own medicine. Trowa was treated to the sight of Quatre moaning uncontrollably and grabbing the side of the couch to keep from crying out. Trowa leaned forward and again claimed the blond's lips with his own, while keeping up the rocking motion. Soon, their pace increased, and they were moaning into each other's mouths. Quatre dropped his hands to Trowa's silky shirt and clumsily unbuttoned it, wanting to run his hands over Trowa's hot skin. Trowa, meanwhile, had eased off Quatre's jacket and was fumbling with the tiny buttons of his dress shirt. Quatre's questing hands found Trowa's nipples, teasing them experimentally. This caused the brown-haired pilot to gasp and jerk Quatre's shirt, popping several of the buttons.
"Sorry," whispered Trowa. "I seem to be destined to destroy your clothes tonight, little one."
"I don't care," answered Quatre, and with a jerk, ripped open his shirt the rest of the way and dropped it on the floor. Then he pressed his bare chest to Trowa's and kissed him passionately again. Trowa groaned at the feel of Quatre's smooth skin against his. Quatre managed to remove Trowa's shirt and proceeded to run his hands all over the green-eyed boy's skin. Trowa returned the favor, marveling at the silkiness of Quatre's skin. It felt just like he had imagined in his passionate dreams.
"Oh Quatre," he breathed into his angel's neck. "I've wanted this for so long."
"Me too," answered Quatre happily.
Quatre looked directly into Trowa's emerald eyes as he dropped his hands to Trowa's pants. "May I?" Quatre asked shyly. Trowa nodded.
Unfortunately, Trowa's pants were so tight that it took both of them to get the pants unfastened. Finally Trowa's pants were unzipped and Quatre tried to reach inside; but again he was foiled because the pants were too tight.
Trowa smiled in apology. "I think I'd better get up to do this." There was an open, carpeted area behind the couch, and Trowa stood there. Quatre rose up on his knees and leaned over the back of the couch to watch. Trowa dropped his head, then looked up at Quatre through half-lidded eyes as he played with the waistband of his pants. The pants were already unzipped, and Quatre could see there was nothing underneath but Trowa. Quatre moaned in anticipation and started rubbing his arousal against the couch.
Quatre watched with rapt attention as Trowa wiggled his way out of the leather pants. Trowa's erection sprang forth, and Quatre sighed and licked his lips. All he wanted to was take that hard length into his mouth and taste it, lick it, feel it throb� Finally Trowa stood gloriously naked before him, every inch of him as beautiful as the blond boy had imagined. Trowa smiled and said, "Your turn."
Quatre got up from the couch and went to stand in front of Trowa. Words failed him, so he just looked up at Trowa and unbuttoned his pants. Quatre's pants came off much more easily than Trowa's, but his audience was just as attentive. When Quatre removed his silk boxers and stood before Trowa unadorned, the brown haired boy was mesmerized by his angel's beauty, afraid to touch lest he break him.
They gazed at each other worshipfully for a moment, until Quatre could stand it no longer. He stepped over to Trowa and pressed his body against him, unhindered by garments. He tilted his head up, wrapped his arms around Trowa's neck, and pressed every available inch of his body against his soon-to-be lover. He moaned as he pressed his arousal into Trowa's thigh and felt Trowa's own hardness jut into his stomach.
Trowa responded by putting his arms around the shorter boy's waist and crushing their aching bodies together. He then ran his hands down Quatre's smooth back and over his firm ass. Quatre gasped as he felt Trowa's hands cup him and brush against his cleft.
"Oh, Trowa," gasped Quatre as Trowa's hands explored. Trowa replied by claiming Quatre's sweet mouth again.
Their kisses grew more heated as they rocked against each other. Then Trowa reached down, put his hands under Quatre's thighs, and lifted him easily against him. This put their rock hard erections in immediate contact and Quatre rocked eagerly against him. Quatre began to pant and Trowa knew his inexperienced angel couldn't take much more.
Trowa gently lowered them both to the carpeted floor, laying Quatre gently on his back. Trowa kissed Quatre deeply, then started a trail of hot kisses down his neck. Quatre squirmed as Trowa kissed lower. Trowa found one pink nipple and licked it delicately before turning his attention to the other one. Quatre moaned at Trowa's actions and indicated his disappointment when Trowa stopped his attention to Quatre's nipples. Then Quatre forgot all about his nipples as Trowa kissed lower still. Quatre moaned impatiently as Trowa stopped to tease his bellybutton, then thrust upwards as Trowa's mouth resumed its quest downwards.
Finally, Trowa reached his destination. He reverently traced a line down Quatre's untouched length with his tongue, drawing another gasp from his lover. Then he ran his tongue over the tip, tasting the glistening drop that showed how aroused Quatre was. Then he slowly took Quatre's entire length in his mouth, not stopping until Quatre's heat was fully enclosed.
Quatre was nearly delirious as he felt himself enveloped in Trowa's hot mouth. Quatre had never imagined such a sensation as Trowa was now giving him. His dreams had not prepared him for the reality of Trowa actually taking Quatre's hardness in his mouth. Quatre looked down at Trowa as the green-eyed boy began to rhythmically suck and release him, moving his mouth all the way out to the tip and back again at an ever-increasing pace.
Trowa was reveling in the taste of his angel, but he knew the blond boy was nearing the edge. At just the right moment, Trowa reached up and brushed just his fingertip against Quatre's sensitive entrance, and drove his angel to climax.
Quatre nearly screamed as incredible pleasure overtook him. Trowa's amazing mouth and hands made him explode, and he filled his lover's mouth with his creamy seed. Trowa swallowed every sweet drop, then crawled up to kiss Quatre and hold him.
"Oh, Trowa, that was amazing," Quatre breathed into Trowa's mouth. "But what about you? I don't know how to do that."
"Will you let me make love to you, Quatre? Will you trust me? I would die before I hurt you," Trowa answered.
"I do trust you. You can do anything you want. Please teach me," Quatre said.
"I want to be inside you, Quatre. But we need some sort of lubrication so I won't hurt you," Trowa explained.
Quatre looked around, and couldn't see anything obvious. Then he had a thought. Walking over to his discarded pants, Quatre retrieved a small tube. He showed it to Trowa. It was a tube of lip moisturizer. "Will this do?" he said hopefully.
Trowa looked at the tube. "I think so."
Kneeling down beside Trowa, Quatre looked up at him and said, "What do we do now?"
Trowa looked at his blond angel and was torn between wanting to protect Quatre and wanting to fuck the hell out of him. He decided on the latter.
"Lie down," Trowa whispered hoarsely, scarcely allowing himself to believe that he would soon be inside his Quatre.
Quatre lay back on the carpet. Trowa grabbed his pants and folded them into a pillow for Quatre's head. Trowa gently spread Quatre's legs and knelt between them. "Promise you'll tell me if it hurts?" Quatre nodded.
Trowa leaned forward and kissed Quatre as he brushed a lubricated finger against Quatre's entrance, then pushed gently inside. Quatre moaned as his shaft began to harden again. Trowa added another finger, gently stretching the blond pilot.
Quatre gasped as he felt himself opened by Trowa's fingers. There was slight discomfort until Trowa added a third finger and brushed something inside him that made him fully hard in an instant. "Trowa!" he managed to gasp. "Do it!"
Trowa was only too ready to comply. Squeezing some more out of the tube, he coated his neglected erection and raised Quatre's knees higher. Quatre looked so beautiful, innocent and sexy at the same time, Trowa could barely restrain himself. He positioned himself, then looked at Quatre. "Are you sure?"
"Please, Trowa, now!" begged Quatre. That was enough for Trowa. He began to push his aching hardness into Quatre. Gently, he pushed until he was fully inside him. He paused to let Quatre relax.
Quatre looked up at his beautiful Trowa. Trowa's eyes were shut and he bit his lip in concentration. It hurt, yet it felt so right to be filled by Trowa's length. Quatre forced his muscles to relax, and the pain ebbed away. Suddenly he wanted Trowa to move, to stroke him from within. "Trowa, I'm ready," Quatre said.
So Trowa started to move, slowly at first. He pulled out nearly all the way, and Quatre made a disappointed sound. Then he pushed himself back in, faster this time. On the next stroke, he changed the angle slightly and brushed against Quatre's magic spot again.
"Oh, Trowa, yes, please, more," begged the small blond. The sound of his angel calling his name in passion nearly drove Trowa over the edge right then. But Trowa needed to keep control, so he could give Quatre as much ecstasy as possible. So he concentrated on hitting that spot again and again, until Quatre was screaming his name with abandon.
Quatre was lost. He had never imagined anything so brutal could feel so good, and with every thrust of Trowa's hips he was pushed higher and higher. He thought it couldn't get any better, when Trowa reached between them and took his straining arousal in his hand and began to stroke in time with his thrusts. It was a good thing the opera going on below them was a loud one, because Quatre climaxed with a scream loud enough to wake the dead.
As he felt his angel clench and coat their stomachs with his passion, Trowa finally released his iron control and allowed himself to reach completion. As he filled Quatre with his seed, he breathed his name softly.
Trowa collapsed on the floor next to Quatre after carefully withdrawing. He drew the trembling blond into his strong arms and held him gently.
"Are you ok? No pain?" Trowa asked solicitously.
"Oh, Trowa," Quatre nearly sobbed. "I love you!"
Shocked, Trowa stared at his angel. "You do?"
"Oh, yes, Trowa, since I first met you. But I didn't want to upset you," answered Quatre.
"Do I seem upset?" Trowa said with a small smile.
Quatre giggled. "No."
"That's because I love you too, little one. With all my heart and soul," Trowa continued.
"Oh, Trowa," Quatre sighed, snuggling into his lover's arms happily. "Does this mean we can do this all the time?"
"Next time let's try a bed, though," answered Trowa.
Below them, the music finished and the boys looked at each other. How in the world were they going to get out of here without everyone knowing what they had been doing?