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"Just Dancing"Written By: Clara Barton Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The following
is an intellectual exercise with no intention of profit. That said,
these characterizations, words, and situations are mine. Please ask
before reprinting. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: language, smut, slight violence Pairings: 3xS, others Summary: Trowa has a mission, and it requires asking Sally Po to be his partner. Of course, this undercover op isn't the kind that sends them to a distant colony to track down weapons smugglers. It's the kind where he needs a girlfriend to take to an ex-lover's wedding.
"Just Dancing" Chapter 4 The rehearsal dinner dragged on for another two hours, with almost everyone sharing embarrassing stories about the happy couple, the stories themselves growing more and more inappropriate as the night wore on and the tip jar at the bar started to overflow. Thankfully, none of the stories hit Trowa quite as hard as Sally's had, likely because Duo and Wufei's reactions hadn't been anything like that again. He cut himself off, after his third gin and tonic, because he realized that, as much as he wanted to just drink himself into oblivion, he was drinking himself into even more depression. He was still drunk, though, when guests started to leave. He was still drunk when Wufei and Duo walked by their table, when Duo hugged Sally and told her that hearing that Wufei had been behind the Valentine's Day Explosion was the best gift he had ever received, and he was still drunk when Wufei pulled him into a hug and thanked him once again for coming. And he was definitely still drunk when Duo looked at him, eyes haunted and mouth a pale, hard line. Duo and Wufei walked away, and Sally dragged Trowa out of the restaurant, her arm around his waist keeping him steady on the walk back to their hotel. The cold air and the memory of Duo's face did a lot to steer him away from feeling drunk. She didn't make him talk until they were back in the room, until she had locked the door and Trowa had removed his shoes with a stumbling kick and sat down on the couch. "Trowa, I'm sorry." He looked up at her. "What the hell are you sorry for?" She sighed and stepped out of her own shoes, far more balanced and sober than he was. She sat down beside him on the couch. "I'm sorry that this is so painful for you." "Yeah, well, that's my fault and no one else's." Sally's lips thinned, reminding Trowa of the expression on Duo's face before he walked away. "You fucked up," she agreed. "But-" "There's no but, Sally," Trowa growled. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the roots slightly, the pain doing very little to ground him. "I fucked his rookie while he was on an undercover op! Duo was gone for thirteen months, risking his life every minute, and I- I fucked his recruit because I was, what? Lonely? Bored? I don't even like Morten." "No one likes him," Sally muttered darkly. "I took the one good thing I found after the war and I pissed all over it. I threw it away, and that's on me. It sure as hell wasn't Duo's fault." "Why did you sleep with him?" Sally's voice was low, her eyes dark in the low light cast by the single lamp they had left on earlier in the evening. Trowa swallowed hard and looked away from her. "It wasn't because you were lonely or bored, Trowa." The next time he needed to find a fake date for something, Trowa would absolutely not put former Alliance Intelligence officers on his list of candidates. No matter how sassy or gorgeous they were. "Talk to me." "Why?" Trowa sighed. "Why can't you just accept that I'm a piece of shit and-" "Because you aren't a piece of shit. Because I've known you for almost twelve years, Trowa, and I've worked dozens of ops with you. You aren't a piece of shit, and I care about you." "That's because you didn't know-" "You told me about it before I agreed to all of this, Trowa," she reminded him. "Then why did you agree?" He had wondered, but he sure as hell hadn't wanted to ask and risk Sally deciding that agreeing to be his fake date was, in fact, a really bad idea. "I already said that I care about you." He snorted. "You care about everyone. You care too much about everyone." He thought back to her latest mission, to the single paragraph in her debrief that detailed the fate of the civilian who had stepped into the gunfight, who had been taken to the nearest hospital but even so had had to have his arm amputated. "Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" He considered it, testing the idea out in his mind. Sally didn't pull her punches, ever, and Trowa had been raised to always fight like his life was on the line. Sparring in the training room at HQ was one thing; opening himself up to Sally's insights and cutting remarks was entirely another. He sighed and shook his head. "Smart." She reached for his hand, and the smooth strength of her fingers around his wrist felt too damn good. "I knew this would be tough for you. Even before you told me all of that - I knew this would be hard." She shrugged. "I thought you could use the backup." He had no idea what he would have done without her beside him at the rehearsal dinner, without the comforting weight of her hand on his shoulder. He couldn't even begin to imagine what tomorrow would be like. "Thank you." "You could thank me by talking to me about it," she suggested. He gave her a look. "I'm verbally repressed, remember?" "You're not a piece of shit," she repeated her earlier assertion. "So tell me what happened." His tongue felt thick and awkward in his mouth as he tried to swallow. "I told Duo I loved him, before he went on the mission. It... it was the first time I said it back to him." Sally looked at him, silent and waiting for him to continue. "I- I got scared," he admitted in a raw whisper, hating himself no less for finally saying it out loud. "I thought he wouldn't come back, I thought he would- He's the only one who ever meant anything, Sally. All the rest- It was just sex. Just... physical release." "The way Relena tells it, it was more like some kind of religious experience," Sally muttered. Trowa gave her a look. "Sorry. Go on." "He mattered and he was gone, and I was fucking stupid and Moten was always there, and it was... it was easy. It was never easy with Duo. We were always one step away from blowing up at each other, and Moten... It was easy, and I felt like I could breathe again. And then Duo came back and I didn't tell him. For weeks, I had this thing festering inside of me because I knew it would ruin everything - I knew Duo wouldn't be able to forgive me. So I lied to him until Moten opened his mouth and... and that was it." "Duo-" "Duo couldn't even look at me, Sally," Trowa sneered, disgusted with himself all over again as he remembered that night. "He came home and he packed his bag, and he- he told me he'd always known I would screw him over again, and that all I had ever been good for was fucking anyway." "Trowa." Sally knew a lot about the war, about what each of them had done - things that no one else knew, not even Une. Especially not Une. Trowa had closed down a bar more than once with Sally, trading horror stories and crushing beer nuts to dust as they confessed their sins. She knew what he had done. He forced himself to shrug, and he freed his hand from her grip. "Anyway, he was right. I screwed him over. And hey, you should know - after listening to Relena - that fucking is all I'm good at. But at least I'm good at that." He offered her a bitter twist of his lips. "You're good for more than just fucking, Trowa." "You're only saying that because you've never tried dating me," he muttered, and then he sighed. "Why is that? What did I- You were never interested in me." "For fuck's sake, I thought you had sobered up," Sally muttered. She rose from the couch and crossed the room. He watched her disappear into the bathroom, listened to the water run in the sink, and a moment later she came back in the room holding a cup. "Drink this." He took the cup gingerly. "Trying to poison me?" "I think you're way ahead of the game there, Trowa." She stood, hands on her hips, and watched him drain the cup. "It's because you think I'm scrawny, right?" Sally rolled her eyes at him. "Trowa, are you serious?" "You said it." "I- Sure. Fine. I did. When you were eighteen - or whatever you were - you were scrawny, and I was definitely not interested in you. And it wasn't because you were scrawny, Trowa. It was because you were a fucked-up kid who had just survived a war by pretending to be a dead guy and then pretending to be the enemy you were fighting against." "I still use his name," Trowa pointed out. "I'm still fucked-up." He sighed, piecing it together. "So that's it? I'm too fucked-up? That makes sense. You're-" Trowa gestured at her, "you're perfect, and I'm fucked-up." Sally laughed and ran her hands through her hair. "Okay, I'm not perfect, and this isn't a contest of who is the most fucked-up, but you aren't the only one in this hideous room who is fucked-up." He tilted his head as he stared at her, trying to figure out why she was offering him comfort. Sally sighed and sat back down on the couch, folding her legs under her and leaning against the stark white cushions. "Did you know the Academy asked me to come back? To deliver the commencement address? I didn't even realize the fucking place was still standing." She gave a bitter laugh. "Trowa, I graduated at the top of my class and I went right into Intelligence. Do you have any idea how- how many interrogations I was part of, Trowa? Do you know how many colonials I- Trowa, I'm a piece of shit. I spent so many years too stupid to look past what was right in front of me, and I tortured people." "So did I," he said, thinking of Duo, thinking of the OZ and Alliance officers he had encountered during the wars and 'convinced' to give him intel. "So what makes me perfect, then? Because I did it in a fancy uniform?" "You stopped. You defected." "Sure. Because I watched two kids almost kill themselves because they believed that strongly that the colonies were the victims." "War is-" "Don't, Trowa. I'm not looking for comfort, especially not from you." The words cut through him, through the lingering haze of the gin and the depths of his own self-loathing. "Right. Of course not." He started to shift away, thinking to get up, maybe go outside, maybe- She grabbed him, pulling him back onto the couch beside her. "I didn't mean it like that. I just- I'm not enough of a monster that I want you to comfort me. I'm not going to make my own victim tell me what I did wasn't horrible." "I'm not your victim." "But you could have been. Heero almost was." He considered that, looking at the uncharacteristic dullness in Sally's eyes and the way she was curled into herself. Trowa and Duo had hacked her files once, when Duo was working on the Preventers security network and testing it for weaknesses. He had let Trowa play with the code, challenging him to break through and offering him sexual favors as a reward for finding any weak points. It had been a long, dry six weeks while Duo had perfected the system, until he had almost finished it and Trowa had finally managed to exploit a weakness in the system. Sally had done terrible things. Things that had given both Duo and Trowa pause, things that had Duo muttering shit and wiping a hand over his mouth. Explains why she's always ready to die for someone else, Duo had said as he backed them out of her files and started to repair the flaw in the system. "Is that it, then? You never had an interest in me because you think I'm one of your victims?" "Trowa, why the hell are you so fixated on that?" He wasn't entirely sure - except, of course, he was. Better to think about that than the gaping empty spot in his heart that had once been occupied by Duo. It was oddly painful, to wonder why Sally didn't want him, but it was a more manageable pain. "I'd rather think about you than Duo right now," he admitted. She looked at him with full eyes, and he wished he hadn't said it. "Trowa-" "Maybe you knew, huh? That I wasn't cut out for anything but sex? That I-" "For the love of- Are you blind, Trowa?" Her vehemence startled him. "No?" His response was hesitant, half-convinced that it was the wrong answer. She snorted. "Could have fooled me. Trowa, I'm interested in you. I was interested in you before you and Duo became a thing, but I was still a complete walking disaster. And then you and Duo became you and Duo - and then you weren't, and I've watched you just fall apart for two and a half years, and every time I tried to ask you out you brushed me off." "I-" He was blind, Trowa realized. He was blind, and he was stupid. After breaking up with Duo, after distancing himself from Wufei once they got together, he had started to join Sally less and less at the bar, always wondering if Duo or Wufei would show up. Eventually, he had started coming up with excuses to put her off, and after months of that, she had stopped asking. He still went out drinking, whenever a group of agents were headed to the bar, and he still gravitated to the open seat Sally always seemed to have beside her, but he hadn't- he hadn't realized her invitations to go out were anything more than concern for him, anything more than friendship. Even so, even now, he knew he still would have said no. He hadn't felt he deserved her friendship back then. He sure as hell wouldn't have felt he deserved anything more from her. "I guess I am blind," he concluded. She shook her head and offered him a rueful smile. "No kidding." Suddenly, the world seemed to shift, just a little, and he thought back to that afternoon, when they had arrived at the hotel and Sally had insisted they practice their cover, when he had upset her with his attempt to overlook her windswept appearance and- "You like me." "That is exactly what I just said, yes. Tell me how you possibly manage to pick up anyone when you're drunk? Because I swear you are more dense than I thought possible about all of this." "It's easy to pick up a one-night stand when I'm drunk," Trowa shrugged. "I never have to see them again." She lifted her eyebrows. "So, what? No future means witty pickup lines?" "No, it means neither of us is all that interested in anything other than getting naked." "Fair." She looked at him, her eyes impossible to read. "Trowa-" "You don't eat your cocktail garnishes." Sally blinked and stared at him. "Um... no. No, I don't. They're there for aesthetics, not as snacks. What does that have to do with anything?" He shrugged. "I usually offer my garnish, and that's all I need to do." "What? You hand over your stick of olives and clothes are suddenly getting ripped off?" Trowa had to smirk at her dubious expression. "No." He shifted closer, angling his body to face hers on the couch, and he reached out with his right hand. He traced his thumb over her lower lip. "I offer it to you like this. It works best with olives, but cherries work well too." "Is that why you started drinking Old Fashioneds?" Trowa nodded, and Sally laughed. "You don't even like bourbon." "I like not going home alone more than I dislike bourbon." "Trowa." He was insanely grateful that Sally hadn't ever had an opportunity to interrogate him during the war. He was being painfully forthcoming, and maybe it was the combination of alcohol, depression, and the lust he had to admit he felt for her, but it was embarrassing just how much he was telling her. "Sally," he echoed, trying to push both of them away from that uncomfortably painful place he had lured them. "I don't have any cherries or olives, unfortunately." "I wouldn't eat them if you did," she countered, leaning towards him ever-so-slightly. "You hate cherries," he remembered, letting his thumb map her jaw from chin to ear. She shivered and leaned into the touch. "I don't mind olives." "Just so long as they don't come from your cocktail glass." "Trowa, are you going to kiss me or not?" He shifted his hand, cradling the back of her skull and gently tugging her against him. Their lips met, and Trowa felt his breath catch. He had kissed her just hours before, had felt his nerves tingle at her nearness, at the feel of her against him. But now- Now, it was so much more. Sally's lips were smooth and firm, pliant in a delicious way that made Trowa want to keep kissing her until he forgot what it felt like to do anything else. She shifted against him, finding a new angle, and her lips teased against his mouth. Sally's hands wrapped around his neck and she ran her tongue over his lower lip, teasing him until Trowa opened his mouth and her tongue slid inside. She tasted like gin and lime and Sally. He pulled her against him, lying back on the couch and bringing her with him so that their bodies were flush from ankle to chest. She moaned into his mouth and her tongue tangled with his, the sensation sending a jolt of lust straight to his groin. Trowa held her close and reveled in the feel of her body against his, of just how perfectly she fit against him, aligned just so. Her body was hard and soft, molding against him, supple under his hands as he skimmed them over her back and lower, to the curve of her ass. She moaned again and moved against him, legs shifting over his as she pressed close, and Trowa released his own sound of pleasure, a surprised groan that she swallowed greedily. Trowa hauled her up over his body, feeling the firm peaks of her nipples brushing against his chest as she moved with him. It was, at once, an incredible familiar and intoxicatingly new sensation. How many times had he had Sally's body pressed against him while they sparred? When they were huddled together for cover? Amazing how arousal and alcohol could completely change his perception of her. Then again, he had always found her attractive. Had always wanted to feel her thighs spread over him and run his hands over the powerful muscles of her legs and palm the firm globes of her ass. Now, he was simply in a situation where he could. Sally eased back from the kiss, and he felt her lips form into a smile as he lifted his head in an attempt to maintain contact. "That was... a lot better than we managed this afternoon," she said. Trowa smirked, but he silently and wholeheartedly agreed. She ran her hand over the side of his face, fingers combing through his hair and smoothing it away. The way she was looking at him, as if she could see every thought he tried not to think, as if she knew all of the hidden corners of his soul where he hid himself, had him struggling not to squirm away from her. "You're drunk," she sighed, fingers trailing over his jaw and then his chin, tracing over the faint scar just below his mouth, a souvenir from his days as a teenaged terrorist. "Not that drunk," he pointed out, wondering if he should remove his hands from her ass. Then again, if Sally didn't want him touching her, she would make that abundantly clear. She arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm as drunk as I usually am for these things." He knew it was the wrong thing to say even before the words were out of his mouth, even before Sally was pushing against his chest and sitting up, even before she was off the couch and out of the room and he was alone, staring after her. Fuck. She had disappeared into the bedroom, and Trowa didn't know if he should follow her or stay where he was. After all- "You are an idiot, Trowa Barton." She was back, eyes blazing with fury in the dim light and hair bouncing around her shoulders as she stalked towards him. "I thought we had already established that." She made a frustrated sound and crossed her arms over her chest, and then she sighed and shook her head. "No, this is my fault. I tell you that you're worth more than a drunken one-night stand, and then I practically jump you and-" "You asked me if I was going to kiss you. And then I was the one feeling you up. You didn't jump me at all." Which, now that Trowa thought about it, was a shame. He imagined Sally jumping him would be very memorable. "This is a bad - and I mean bad - idea." She was frowning, the look on her face all-too-familiar to Trowa. He had seen Sally talk herself into and out of things before - it was impressive how quickly and forcefully she could change her own mind. "It's not that bad of an idea," he tried to argue. "Not as bad as... me going to Duo and Wufei's house and trying to apologize." She gave him a look. "That's not exactly a great scale for judging the merit of something, Trowa," she muttered. That was true enough. But Trowa didn't want to spend the night on this couch, alone with his thoughts - with his demons taunting him and with the hope of Sally actually interested in him slipping further and further away as she convinced herself what a bad investment her time in him would be. He had sat there beside her on that damn couch and confessed more to her than he had to anyone, far more than he had ever wanted to. And Sally- Sally had looked him in the eyes and told him she was a monster. He rose from the couch, and Sally looked at him a little warily. "You want me," he said, slowly closing the space between them. She huffed out an irritated breath. "Obviously. I said as much and-" He kissed her again, swallowing her words. Almost immediately, her arms came up around his neck, and she met his lips forcefully, seemingly as intent on devouring him as Trowa was on devouring her. Trowa moved away from her lips, kissing her cheek, the juncture of her jaw and ear, and then licking a trail down her neck before placing another kiss against her fluttering pulse. "And I want you," he said into her ear. She shivered against him, drawing in a ragged breath and then pressing her lips against his neck, biting down gently right on the spot that had always made Trowa feel a little weak in the knees. She pulled away enough to reach for his hand. "I've got condoms in my bag." Trowa had to laugh. "Have you been planning on seducing me this whole time?" "No," she growled, and shot him a mock-glare as she tugged him towards the bedroom. "I just like to always be prepared. They're part of my med kit." Trowa could tease her about that, and in fact had a comment already on the tip of his tongue, but Sally pressed her free hand over his groin, hand stroking his half-hard cock through the fabric of his trousers, and he abruptly lost his train of thought. Sally smirked. "And all this time, I never knew the easiest way to get you to stop sassing me was to grab your cock." "You're welcome to use this technique any time you want in the future," he assured Sally, her touch arousing him almost embarrassingly quickly. "Hm. Clearly it isn't the perfect solution," she teased him, and he had to laugh. "Maybe you just need to perfect your technique," he suggested. Sally snorted a laugh and then moved her hand away, to his hip, and gave him a push towards the bed. Trowa took the hint and lay on it, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at Sally as she stalked towards him. It was darker in the bedroom, the spill of light from the sitting area barely illuminating anything, and the moonlight filtering through the riotously-colored curtains provided almost nothing except a silver glow to Sally's face and hair. She crawled onto the bed and straddled his lap, her dress riding up to expose her firm thighs. "Relena said something about this being your favorite position," Sally murmured, pressing a light kiss against his lips and then moving to trace his earlobe with her tongue. Trowa gripped her thighs, easing his fingers under the hem of her dress and trying very hard not to rock up into the heat of her body, pressed so close to his cock. It suddenly occurred to him that Relena might have told Sally about his neck - how biting into that spot nearly did him in every time. He wondered, almost afraid, what else Relena had told her. "It is," he confirmed. "Yours?" She smirked against his ear and started to unbutton his shirt. "Coincidentally, this one." Trowa had to chuckle at that. Sally riding him was definitely a fantasy he had harbored for years. And here she was, in his lap, teasing him and feeling so damn perfect it felt like it had to be a dream. He delved further under her dress, pushing the fabric up to her waist and exposing the lacy fabric of her panties to his explorations. He teased along the edge, pulling the thin fabric away just enough to run the tips of his fingers over her skin. Sally tugged his shirt free of his trousers and shoved it down his shoulders. Reluctantly, Trowa pulled his hands away from her and helped her remove it entirely. "Not scrawny at all," she complimented him as she smoothed her hands over his stomach and up his chest, gently tweaking his nipples before lowering her head to kiss him again. Trowa growled at the remark, and she smirked against his mouth just before parting her lips and swiping her tongue against his, sending sparks of desire through him radiating from every point of contact with her, warming his entire body. He let himself return to his earlier explorations, satisfied when Sally's legs spread farther to allow him to trace not just where her panties framed her ass, but lower and far more intimately. She was radiating heat, and the lace felt wonderfully damp as he ran his fingers between her legs and found the thick curls around her sex. She arched against him, lips trailing against his cheek and a delighted moan ruffling his hair. "Speaking of ways to put an end to sass." He smirked against her cheek as she gave a throaty chuckle in response to the taunt. A chuckle that turned into a stuttered gasp as he parted her folds with two fingers and stroked the soft, damp lips of her labia. Her hands clutched at him as he found the sensitive bundle of nerves near her hood and she made a sound that he didn't even think Sally was capable of making - a needy, mewling sound that made his cock twitch in response. He used his free hand to pull her face back against his, seeking out her mouth and giving her a fierce kiss. He curled his fingers inside her, stroking from her clit to her channel, enjoying the way she shuddered against him as he went from her most sensitive spot to teasing deeper inside her body and then back again. Trowa flicked his thumb over her clit, and Sally's thighs clenched around him and her entire body arched into his. She broke their kiss with a breathless gasp, and he looked up into her face, at her wild eyes and swollen lips. "Jesus Christ, Sally," he groaned into her ear. "You're on fire. You're going to consume me." "That's what you say to everyone," she teased him. "No," he assured her, "it's what I'm saying to you. You feel like heaven, Sally. You're so incredible, so damn perfect, and here you are, ready to fall apart in my arms." She groaned as he continued to stroke her, as he found a pace and pressure that had her writhing against him. As fantastic as this was, however, the angle wasn't at all comfortable on his wrist. He eased his hand away, and she gave a whimper of protest that had him kissing her again. "Mind if we try a different position?" "That depends on what you had in mind." He laughed and put his hands on Sally's hips, steadying her before he rolled them and laid her back against the comforter. She didn't look terribly impressed at the idea of a missionary position, and Trowa smirked down at her. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties. "I think these need to go." "The condoms are-" "We don't need them yet," Trowa assured her as he eased the lacy fabric over her thighs and then down her legs. He carelessly tossed them to the floor and then reversed the path his hands had just taken, pushing Sally's legs wide and leaning over her as he did. He pressed a kiss to her clavicle and then another to the skin just below. He moved to the side, grazing over the fabric of her dress with his open mouth before kissing her right breast, teasing her nipple through the fabric until she arched up against him and her fingers dug into his hair. Trowa lingered long enough to give the same treatment to her other breast, and then he trailed more kisses down her belly and then skipped over the fabric bunched around her waist to kiss her thighs, licking and nipping his way towards his goal. "Trowa, you're such a tease," Sally laughed, the sound hoarse and sexy as hell, when he licked at the junction of her hip and groin. He laughed himself, and she trembled as his breath puffed against her curls. Curls that beckoned him closer, and he abandoned the pretense of ignoring the scent of her, the feel of her, the taste of her as he licked her with the flat of his tongue, parting her lips and sucking her clit into his mouth in one gesture that had Sally swearing and thrusting her hips up insistently. "Oh my God, Trowa. Fuck-" she trailed off, moaning again as he swirled his tongue around her clit, alternating between sucking on the sensitive bud and teasing her entrance by thrusting his tongue into her. Her thighs quivered on either side of his head, and the feel of her, so fully giving herself over to pleasure, to him, had Trowa rock-hard and just barely refraining from humping against the mattress. She tasted divine, heady and primal, all sex and Sally, and he lapped at her greedily, knowing it was likely he would never have the chance to do this again and wanting to make the most of it. Sally rocked against him, her sounds of pleasure guiding him to find the right way to caress her, and he discovered that using his mouth on her clit and the hood of her sex while he teasingly thrust into her with two fingers had her undulating against him and whispering his name as if she was praying. Trowa took his time, committing to memory each sound she made, each sharp inhale and trembling release of breath, each broken iteration of his name that fell from her lips. He could feel the shift in her body, the trembling of her limbs and the clutch of her hands at his hair, as she neared climax, and he redoubled his efforts, stroking her with tongue and fingers, sucking her and fucking her, and she came with a moan and a painful tug on his hair. He could feel her body clench around his fingers, could feel the rush of her orgasm, and he eased the pressure of his mouth, gently stroking her down from the high, until her thighs fell to the bed and she released her grip on his hair. "Oh my God, Trowa. That was..." "Decent? At least a four out of ten?" She snorted and tugged him up to kiss her, a long, lingering clash of teeth and tongue as they shared the taste of her pleasure between them. "At least a nine," she assured him. "And what kept it from being a ten?" She smirked up at him and reached between them to pinch his nipple. Trowa hissed and thrust against her, the pain sparking through him, right to his cock. "I like a little pain with my pleasure," she told him. Sally Po telling him that she liked a little pain with her pleasure was nearly enough to make Trowa come right then. He thought she had sounded glorious before, moaning for him, encouraging him as he plundered her body with his tongue and fingers. But this- Trowa wished he could count on a future encounter, a chance to discover just what blend of pain and pleasure would leave Sally sated and sublimely wrecked. She ran her hand down his chest and to the waist of his trousers. "I think you're a little overdressed for what I have planned for you, Barton." He smirked at the teasing tone and he eased away from her, rising to his knees on the bed beside her. His erection was pressed against the front of his trousers, the damp spot and bulging fabric giving away just how thoroughly he had enjoyed getting Sally off. She mirrored his position, kneeling beside him and running her hands over his naked torso, raking her nails against his skin just hard enough to make him hiss and close his eyes to better enjoy the sensation. "Hm. I see I'm not the only one who likes a little pain with my pleasure," she murmured. He felt the brush of her hair against his chest, and then the sharp points of her teeth biting into the skin around his right nipple and drawing the flesh into her mouth. He groaned and clutched at her head. Had Relena told her about that too? Or was he just that easy for Sally to read? She released him and flicked her tongue over the spot, soothing the flesh and teasing him in one swipe. Her hands, meanwhile, were industriously working to open the fly of his trousers, and he had to sigh in relief when she released his cock from the confines of his trousers and briefs. "Shall I return the favor?" she teased him, fingers curling around his shaft and giving an experimental stroke. He thrust up in her grip and clutched at her shoulders. "I'd rather-" He struggled to collect his thoughts, struggled to focus on her smirking lips instead of the fingers smearing precum over the head of his cock and teasing at the so damn sensitive underside. Sally used her other hand to massage his sac, her touch light, testing, until she discovered that by pressing against his perineum had him moaning her name and pulling her into a kiss, desperate to keep from crying out, desperate to wipe the pleased smirk from her face, desperate for more. He was already so wound up - the liquor, the highs and lows of the evening, and the taste of Sally still on his tongue combining to leave him unusually sensitive. The image of Sally's mouth wrapped around his cock was so damn tempting, but he knew he wasn't going to have the stamina to go another round, knew he didn't have the fortitude to last through her doing that to him and still be able to fuck her, and Trowa needed to know what it felt like to be buried inside the glorious heat of Sally's body. "I think it's time for the condoms," he told her. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before releasing him and moving to the side of the bed. She got up and went into the bathroom. Trowa, meanwhile, hastily shucked out of the rest of his clothes. When Sally came back, it was clear she had had the same idea - her dress was gone and she approached him completely naked, her breasts swaying with each step, her areola dark and nearly as riveting as the triangle of thick curls between her legs. "I see great minds think alike," she teased him as she climbed back onto the bed, dropping a foil wrapper by his side. He pulled her back onto his thighs, the position she had put them in when they first moved to the bedroom, and Sally settled against him, curls against his hard cock, rocking against him, her lips parting teasingly. Trowa just barely refrained from thrusting into her, and he distracted himself by palming her exposed breasts. He flicked his thumb against her nipples, until they became stiff in his touch and Sally's hands dug into his shoulders. He remembered what she had said, what she had done to him, and he urged her onto her knees so that he could taste her. He lapped at the smooth skin, mapping the swell of her breast with his tongue before laving at her nipple and then sucking it into his mouth. He didn't bite down immediately, even though she stiffened in anticipation. Instead, he taunted her, sucking until she was shifting against him, enjoying it even though it wasn't what she had expected. And then he bit down, just that side of painful, and Sally cried out and clutched at him. Trowa reached between them, parting her with his fingers and finding her sex wet and eager for him. He gentled his attention on her breast before switching to the other side even as he caressed her clit with his fingers. Instead of biting down on her other nipple, however, he pinched her clit between his fingers, and she nearly jumped out of his arms. "You're going to kill me, Trowa," she groaned, and he had to chuckle. "That wouldn't exactly work out for my plans with you," he said, and removed his hand. He reached for the condom and her gaze followed him, attention focused on the movement of his hands as he tore open the wrapper and then eased the sheath over his painfully-hard erection. Trowa gripped himself, stroking his hand over the shaft. Sally's hand, smaller and just a shade darker, joined his, and together they guided him to her entrance. Slowly, Sally lowered herself onto him, her body tight and welcoming and so hot as she took inch after inch of him into her. It seemed like forever before he was buried to the hilt, until her ass rested against his thighs, and the embrace of her body was nearly overwhelming. And then she started to move, thighs flexing as she rose up and then impaled herself again. "Jesus, Sally." He wrapped his arms around her, unsure which of them he was steadying. The rhythm of her movements was slow, the erotic slide of his cock into her depths leaving him breathless and desperate for the next rise and fall of her hips, She was looking at him with dark eyes, and he found it as maddeningly impossible to look away from her face as it was to hold her gaze. It felt, once again, as if she saw everything, as if she knew everything. He reached out and wrapped his right hand in her hair, pulling hard enough for her to gasp and making her tilt her head back to alleviate the pressure. Trowa took advantage of the movement to bite her neck, teasing her skin with his teeth until she was moaning and her careful rhythm faltered. He used his other hand to find her clit again, the combined pressure of his cock sliding against her and the more focused attention of his fingers making her whimper. "Trowa." He didn't think anyone had ever said his name like that - as though she was pleading with him and claiming him as hers in one breath, demanding more from him and possessing all of him at the same time. He flexed his hips, further upsetting her rhythm, and she abandoned her attempts to tease him with the excruciatingly slow pace, instead giving both of them what they needed. She moved faster, practically bouncing over him, and he thrust up to meet each downward motion of her body, until Sally's nails were digging into his shoulders and Trowa had to force himself to let go of her hair so that he didn't hurt her. He managed to last until she came, fighting against the tide of his own pleasure until she cried out and her body clenched at him, spasming around his cock and drawing him even deeper, holding him even tighter. His own climax engulfed him, shocking in its intensity, and his vision sparked and the entire world was momentarily forgotten as he clung to Sally and shouted his release into her shoulder. Minutes, hours, maybe days later, he was finally able to breathe again, finally able to feel something that wasn't everything around him being blissfully engulfed by his own pleasure. Sally eased away from him and he winced as she moved, his half-hard cock almost too sensitive for the slide of her body against him as she pulled away and rolled onto her back beside him. "I'm not sure calling you a sex god really does you justice," she sighed. He smirked over at her, taking in the boneless quality of her pose, the satisfied look on her face, and the shine of her own pleasure on her spread thighs. "I'm not sure what to call you at all. Goddess doesn't even begin to describe you," he murmured, leaning down and playfully nipping at one thigh. She shied away from him until he ran his tongue over her skin, indulging himself in one last taste. Sally snorted and pushed his head away as he started to work his way up her thigh, his one last taste turning into another and then another. "You don't have to use one of your lines on me, Barton." He sat up and looked down at her again, at the faint smile curving her lips, and he wondered what she wanted from him. Trowa gingerly removed the condom and tied it off. He rose from the bed on legs that were a little boneless themselves, and disposed of the condom in the bathroom before rejoining Sally on the bed. He curled around her, and she shifted. He was afraid she was going to pull away from him, afraid he was about to be banished back to the couch, but instead she adjusted the sheets and duvet around them and then settled against him, her back against his front, and pulled his arm around her waist. It was rare that his one-night stands stayed the night. Rarer still that they had any interest in post-coital cuddling. Duo had been the last person to let Trowa hold him in bed, the last to relax into his touch and share the intimacy of lying together naked, drifting together as their post-climax euphoria slowly faded away and they returned to reality. "Thank you," he said. She turned her head to look back at him. "For what? The sex? Don't worry, the pleasure was all mine. Well, not all mine. But enough mine, at least." He smirked at that and kissed her. She returned it, teasing and gentle. "Thank you for..." Not kicking him out of her bed. Not looking at him like he was the scum of the earth. Not turning her back on him. "You're welcome," she said, and her fingers tangled with his against her stomach. He idly traced over her scar. He didn't need to say anything else. "You should probably get a glass of water and take something. You're going to have an awful hangover in the morning," Sally warned him with a yawn. "I'll be fine." Trowa was fairly certain she was right, but the thought of moving, of leaving her side, held zero appeal. Instead, he pressed a kiss to her neck, adjusted the pillow under his head, and let himself drift off to sleep. ~ * ~ |
