"The Pact"

Written By: The Plotting Housewife

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: Smut, Porn With Plot, OT5, Fluff, Mild Angst, Humor, Fivesome, Angst, Newtypes, Possessive Behavior, Alternate Universe - Dark, Non-Graphic Violence

Pairings: 3x5x2x4x1

Summary: Formerly Intervention (retitled because the story detoured and went its own way).After seducing Quatre, the other four ex-pilots brave the uncharted waters of their new abilities and learn to cope with the unintentional gifts they were given. But as always, power requires responsibility and the humbling acknowledgement of humanity's weaknesses. The struggle to stay true to themselves becomes a dangerous and terrifying endeavor as they skirt the boundary where conscience bleeds into chaos and the dark abyss of temptation.

"The Pact"

Heero glanced up from the new table’s assembly instructions to see how the others were faring. There wasn’t much to it really. Just bolt the legs to the table top and flip the sucker over. The chairs required a little more work, but nothing too complicated.

“Duo, you’re putting the leg on backwards.”

“Huh?” The braided man stared at the table leg as if it just insulted his mother. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Heero turned the page of instructions around and pointed at the illustration of the table leg design. “The rounded edge goes on the outside.”

Duo looked up at him, then back at the leg, then peered over at Trowa and Wufei who’d both installed theirs properly. “Shit.”

“Just loosen the bolts and turn it around. It’s not a big deal.” He nudged his chin at Trowa and Wufei. “You two can help me get started on the chairs.”

There were eight total and the table came with two leaves so that Quatre could extend it when he had company. Only four chairs fit around the table on its smallest setting so they put the other four along with the leaves in the utility room which offset the kitchen.

The place was already clean by the time they returned. The leftover food had been transferred to Quatre’s color-coordinated Tupperware containers and were now stacked neatly in the refrigerator. The broken dishes and glasses had been swept and disposed of and the eating utensils were washed and placed into the drying rack. All that remained were the broken halves of his old table which the four of them carried downstairs and tossed into the dumpster behind the apartment building.

Once the construction was done, Heero was content to stand back and watch his three friends squabble over the finishing touches. Quatre was a stickler for presentation and when not in use, his dining table was laden with items that gave the appearance of everyday living, but were intentionally displayed with the eclectically chic nonchalance so often featured in trendy home and garden magazines.

The current point of contention was the color sequence of the lacquered bamboo place mats. Each one was different and since there were only four, it honestly didn’t matter where they went. It basically boiled down to Duo wanting the yellow one on the side facing the window and Wufei claiming the blue should go there which left Trowa reluctantly delegated to the role of arbiter.

The escalating altercation over whether a bouquet of daisies, or orchids would be better suited for the centerpiece was interrupted by the doorbell. Annoyed by the interference, Wufei propped his hands on his hips. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Probably the caterers. Quatre said they would come back for the serving dishes,” Heero said, heading for the door. “I’ll get it. Oh, and Duo? Wufei’s right. Orchids are in season this time of year so we’re going with that.”

He was expecting a considerable amount of sulking, but instead, Duo’s face twisted in confusion. “How in Shinigami’s left nutsack do either of you even know that?”

Heero left the kitchen without answering. He didn’t know where Wufei had obtained his knowledge of fauna and flora, or the extent of which he knew it. It was likely that he’d learned about it growing up while aspiring to be a scholar before the war had forced him to abandon his studies.

In Heero’s case, he’d taken to botany as a way to calm and center himself during times when the post traumatic stress of war and Doctor J’s training reared its ugly head. Because plants and animals were dependant on each other for survival, they helped him learn to trust again and since they required the tenderness of a nurturing hand to thrive, they were highly effective at softening his jagged edges.

Both were qualities he direly needed if he was going to make it as a civilian in the new world. He knew the reason why he was never permitted to communicate with people on a social level and the reality felt heavy like lead inside his chest. J never intended for Heero to survive the war. He’d been created by the maddest of men for only one purpose: to be a weapon of mass destruction.

His initial role was to carry out Operation: Meteor and ensure the successful destruction of the earth. Upon completion of that mission, he’d been given a non-negotiable order to self-terminate by following the jettisoned colony on a one-way trip towards their mutual annihilation.

The irony of fulfilling his duties under the stolen name of an assassinated colony leader who was known for his antipathy towards violence was not lost on him. J had tried to convince him that since the representative for the L1 colony cluster was dead, Heero was being chosen for that honor.

He knew it was a lie. The real Heero Yuy never would have supported Operation: Meteor if he’d known about it which he hadn’t. He wasn’t assassinated because he spoke on behalf of colony liberation. He was assassinated because he would have exposed Operation: Meteor for the atrocity it was and likely would have become a powerful adversary against its proponents, thus throwing a very large and very inconvenient wrench in their plans.

When whispers began to circulate due to an anonymous leak, J and the rest of the Mad Five realized that if the rumors gained more traction, they would be forever branded as the men responsible for the genocide of billions of innocent people. History would not have been kind them.

As a result, the original plan was scrapped in favor of the Gundams, but Heero’s predetermined fate did not change. He’d been prepared to self-detonate the moment the war was declared over, but he’d fucked up. He’d fucked up royally and on more than one occasion. At the time, he’d seen himself as a failure, a disappointment to his mentor. He had one job, the one he’d been trained all his life for, and he couldn’t even accomplish it.

Oddly enough, he owed his change of heart to a ragtag gang of misfits who had only one thing in common: the desire for peace. Three of those misfits were currently in the next room, fighting over flowers of all things. Another was fast asleep at the other end of the apartment. For a long time, he couldn’t figure out how they’d managed to break through fifteen years of relentless brainwashing and convince him that he was a human being worthy of life and happiness.

With their help and Relena’s, he learned that he was not obsolete. That he did not live in a world that wasn’t made for him, but rather he had a future in the world he helped create.

Which was all fine and dandy except for the fact that he’d barely started to get used to life as a civilian before the universe threw another wrench in his path. If anyone had told him five years ago that he would wind up in some cockamamie five-way relationship with his former co-pilots, he probably would have laughed like a lunatic and then shot them.

But despite the bizarre turn of events, he wasn’t finding it all that difficult to accept the cards he’d been dealt. In a metaphorical sense, it was like spending your entire life in the gallows and then being handed the keys to an ocean-side villa in the Bahamas. How could he possibly complain?

And if Quatre was right, then there was a biological reason for their current predicament. Adding this whole Alpha and Omega dynamic to the equation did explain how they were able to get through to him with relative ease, but Heero firmly believed there was more to it than that, even if he didn’t know what it was yet.

He greeted the caterers at the door and ushered them into the kitchen where it was thankfully still quiet. “Everything is lined up on the counter over there,” he told them, gesturing with his hand. “Is that all you need, or is there anything else that needs to be taken care of?”

“You’re all set, sir. We just came back for the equipment so we’ll be out of your hair as soon as we get it packed up and in the truck.”

Heero gave his friends a pointed look. “Guys, you wanna give them a hand?”

“Who died and made you dictator?” Duo grumbled.

“Please,” he amended, jerking his chin towards the living room where they could talk without the caterers listening in. “I only have a couple hours left and I want to spend a little time with Quatre before I go.” He was prepared to leave it at that, but decided for the sake of brevity that it couldn’t hurt to make sure they understood exactly what he was asking. “Alone.”

It came as no surprise when the air grew thick with tension. He forced himself to remain calm and open to the three separate, but distinct entities that pushed their way inside his head and sifted through the tesseract of electrical impulses jumping from one neurotransmitter to the next. They were searching, probing the part of his mind that controlled organization and decision making.

They wanted to know what his intentions were and he made no attempts to hide them. He knew jealousy was normal during the initial phase of the bond. Being dishonest would only slow down their progress and make it that much harder to move beyond this tumultuous stage.

“So you want us to take a hike while you have sex with Quatre, is that it?”

He met Trowa’s gaze, saw fire ignite in the sharp green eyes, and his body tensed when he remembered the incident earlier that morning. For everyone’s sake, he hoped this wouldn’t get physical. He didn’t exactly have limitless funds to keep replacing Quatre’s furniture. “Trowa, listen to me. I know this is difficult for you given your history with Quatre and how you feel about him, but this connection exists between all of us whether we like it or not.”

He watched Trowa teeter on the brink of violence, encouraged by the fact that he still wasn’t laid out on top of a broken sofa yet. If he kept a cool head, he’d probably able to talk him down.

“You know this. This is an adjustment for all of us, but we need him just as much as you do and we’re all going to have opportunities to...spend some time alone with him. You three get to stay until Wednesday morning. I have to leave in a couple of hours. We need to stop seeing each other as the enemy here. It doesn’t do Quatre, or any of us any good to constantly be at each other’s throats.”

He had to hand it to himself. He wasn’t always the best when it came to self-expression, but sometimes he did manage to pull it off. At least he’d had more decorum than Wufei as evident when Trowa let out a shaky breath and rubbed his hands over his face. Just like that, the situation was diffused.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Heero. I don’t want a repeat of this morning. I need to do a better job controlling my temper...and my jealousy.”

“Don’t we all,” Duo agreed, stepping over to the massive bay window where Quatre had painstakingly arranged a multitude of dolls and critters whose motorized arms and heads rotated in slow-moving circles while they clutched lighted candles in their hands. He bent down to peer at the face of a cheerfully smiling penguin with rosy cheeks and a Santa hat on its head. “Might need to have a little talk with Q about his disturbing new obsession with animatronics, too. I don’t trust this bird. It looks way too happy,” he informed them, pointing a finger at the penguin. “And have you ever seen a penguin blush? I haven’t.”

“You’d better be nice to it,” Wufei warned, plopping down onto the couch. “You don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and see that thing standing over you with a butcher knife in its ha - er, flipper.”

“That’s not funny.”

Trowa caught Heero’s pointed look and nodded affably. “Alright, guys. Wufei, off the couch. Let’s give the caterers a hand.”

Wufei tipped his head over the back of the couch and looked at him upside down. “And then what?”

“We can go get some lunch somewhere and do a little shopping. I still haven’t gotten Catherine a Christmas gift yet.”

“If there’s food involved, you can count me in,” Duo announced unsurprisingly. “Lemme just get my jacket.”

Wufei still hadn’t moved. “I hate shopping.”

“Just take one for the team, will you please?”

“Fine.”

“Thank you. Duo, too.”

Duo emerged from the study and flipped the collar of his motorcycle jacket up. “Did I hear my name?”

“Yeah. I was thanking you. For - y’know...this.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. Gotta get that last romp in before your flight leaves, right?”

“It’s not just that. I want to talk to him some more about all this.”

Wufei threw his hands up. “I think he’s already told us pretty much everything he knows. We've been grilling the poor guy for hours, give him a break.”

“That’s not what I want to ask him. I want to talk to him about how he’s holding up through all this. How he feels about it. If he’s okay, you know?” He glanced over at Trowa and a silent agreement passed between them. He needed to know as much as Quatre did that sex was not the end all be all to any of them. That the blond’s well being was just as important to them as it was to Trowa. “I know he’s already talked to you quite a bit, but I want to hear it from him.”

“I know. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. He feels it, but it’s nice when someone tells you they care, too. And don’t worry, we’ll be back in time to get you to the shuttle port.”

“Take your time. I can hail a cab.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I don’t want you to rush. Just enjoy yourselves. I’ll probably see you in a couple of weeks anyway.”

He waited patiently for them to carry the last of the chafters down and then locked the door behind them. Trowa had a spare key so they’d have no trouble getting back in if Quatre passed out again.

Now that was a thrilling thought. Admittedly, it made him feel manly and powerful. Macho. Being able to satisfy your partner to the point of exhaustion got the testosterone flowing and released potent pheromones to warn those who were looking to claim your territory that you were willing to spill blood to defend it.

Except in this case, there were no rivals. Even with the occasional flare-up of jealousy between the four of them, they were not competing with each other. Fundamentally, they were a unit. In a sense, they always had been. Heero was certain that once they became more comfortable with themselves and their bond, settling into their respective roles wouldn't be too difficult.

We can do this. This is a cakewalk compared to what we’ve overcome in the past.

Quatre’s bedroom door was ajar and Heero could hear no sound from within. Instead of knocking, he pushed the door open just wide enough to peek inside and spotted the blond sprawled on his belly across the bed with his left arm and leg dangling over the side. He was clad in only a pair of pajama pants, Mickey Mouse ones from the looks of it.

How could he have forgotten what a wild sleeper Quatre was? He smiled as he remembered camping out on the beach in Sanq, trying to sleep with the other boy’s knees shoved into his back. At one point during the night, he’d woken up in a panic thinking someone was smothering him, only to find out that Quatre’s arm was pressed over his nose and mouth.

He approached the bed, peeling his t-shirt off as he went. He was already half-hard and once he got close enough to admire the lean muscle and smooth skin of Quatre’s back, his cock stiffened painfully against the fly of his jeans. He worked the denim and his underwear down over his hips and kicked them off to the side, while his eyes devoured the dramatic dip of Quatre’s lower back and the delectable swell of his ass that tempted him from underneath the linen fabric of those ridiculous Mickey Mouse sleep pants.

He’d been told - and also knew from experience - that a simple verbal, or mental command triggered the production of slick, though he didn’t know if would work while Quatre was asleep. Despite his better judgment, he chanced a slight push into the blond’s mind, probing gently to see if he could coax the Omega out of hiding.

He stumbled and nearly lost his footing when a sudden presence emerged and answered his summons. While its signature was uniquely Quatre’s, it felt different somehow. Raw, untamed, and ageless like the spiritual essence of a person, free and eternal in ways that “human” Quatre could never be.

Soul. It’s his soul. Jesus, I might actually be insane, but what else could it be?

And with startling clarity, he realized he was using his own spiritual essence to communicate with Quatre’s. This wasn’t telepathy in the typical sense. This was the connection of two forces, unhindered by the laws of their four dimensional universe. He felt half-in and half-out of his body, experiencing and observing at the same time. He sensed the Omega’s recognition of its Alpha and it opened itself like a flower in the sun, peeling back its fortress of petals to reveal the secrets hidden inside.

It knew its role just as the Alpha did and it waited patiently for its commands, ready to obey its every whim. Tentatively, he prompted it to activate Quatre’s Eroyica gland and a giddy thrill raced up his spine when it complied without question. The scent of slick reached his nostrils, spurring his heart to pump harder. He stared intently at the seat of the blond’s pants and his blood simmered as the first beads of moisture appeared on the fabric.

Quatre snuffled into the bedding and shifted his legs, but did not wake. Aroused by his scent and the anticipation of imminent sex, Heero prodded the Omega a little harder and watched the beads grow and merge together. Quatre moaned softly in his sleep, responding to the twinge of pleasure from deep within his subconscious.

Heero’s original plan had been to lay down beside him and wake him slowly with loving caresses and tender kisses. Perhaps even talk for a bit before getting down to business.

It wasn’t going to happen. Not with the scent of slick permeating the air, produced by the prone body of his Omega who was laid out before him like a gift from the gods. Definitely not after the enticing sound of Quatre’s drowsy moan stoked the embers of his desire. The Alpha was taking control and he had neither the strength, nor the will to stop it.

Screw it. Talk is cheap anyway.

He hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband of Quatre’s pajama pants and yanked them down, exposing the smooth mounds of his ass. Quatre startled awake and mumbled sleepy half-questions as his pants were roughly pulled off his legs, but Heero said nothing, intent on the shiny wet slick smeared over creamy, alabaster skin.

Gripping a supple buttock in each hand, he parted the cheeks and his mouth watered like a starving wolf with a choice steak dangling beneath its nose. He watched a trickle of fluid roll down the blond’s perineum and then over the contoured shape of his balls before joining the already sizable stain on the bed. When the next one proceeded to follow the same path, he lunged forward, captured it on his tongue, and licked a wet stripe all the way up to the whorled flesh of Quatre's opening.

That first touch sparked the increased production of Eroycinnia and caused Quatre to unleash a garbled cry which he quickly smothered against the bedding in a rush of mortification. Heero sensed his embarrassment and decided to lay that nonsense to rest the only way he knew how.

He pressed his face in deeper, lapping up the slick with long swipes of his tongue before dipping into the blond’s hole to catch the rest before it could escape. Once pleasure took precedence, Quatre was as helpless to the feeling as Heero was to the taste. Inhibitions were shamelessly abandoned, thrown into an empty grave and buried under six feet of earth.

It took only seconds to bring him to orgasm and while he lay breathless and trembling in its wake, Heero took him from behind with a deep groan and possessive hands clamped tightly around his hips.

***

“Somehow, I get the feeling that you’re greatly enjoying this peculiar situation of ours,” Quatre teased as they lay face to face on their sides in the aftermath of their coupling.

Heero pulled him flush against his chest and lifted his slender leg, draping it over his own hip. “Takes one to know one.”

Quatre snuggled against him and sighed contentedly. “I suppose playing hard to get is out of the question now. You can see right through me.”

“Not through you. Inside you. When we connected, it felt like...I don’t know. I mean, I could have sworn I saw your soul. Or...well, that’s the only word I can think of to describe it. Nothing else seems to fit. But then again, I’m probably certifiably insane so make of that what you will.”

“At this point, my dead father could show up at my door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar and it wouldn’t even faze me. If you say that’s what you saw, then I believe you.”

He smiled and lightly traced his fingertips down the protruding knobs of Quatre’s spine, feeling the skin break out in goosebumps beneath his touch. “Did you have a good nap, at least?”

“Mmm, yeah. Slept like the dead actually. I didn’t rest well last night. Tossed and turned until dawn and then gave up.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think any of us slept well. I didn’t.” He smiled sheepishly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“That makes two of us,” Quatre assured him. He leaned forward and bit down gently into the sinewy flesh of Heero’s bicep, then licked over the impression left by his teeth. “I’m in for it tonight, aren’t I?”

He laughed and trailed his fingers down the crack of the blond’s ass, loving the hitch in his breath as he rubbed lightly over the ridges around his opening. “Let’s just say it’s a good thing you got a nap in first.”

“It’s too bad you can’t stay.”

“I know, but we’ll be together again soon.”

“Promise?”

“Are you kidding? God himself would have one hell of a time keeping me away from you.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

“It’s a metaphor, chucklehead.”

Quatre hummed and patted Heero’s chest. “You know, Duo’s right. Allegory doesn’t suit you.”

“Are you saying I should give up my dream of becoming a poet?”

“I’m saying, ‘Who are you and what have you done with Heero?’”

He scoffed and slapped Quatre's ass. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, ye of little faith.”

“Anytime. You can even have that one free of charge.”

He rolled his body on top of Quatre’s with a growl and pinned his arms down against the bed. “You’re mighty cheeky for someone in such a precarious position.”

“And what, pray tell, would that precarious position be?”

“The one where I tell your other Alphas that you need to be put in your place.”

Quatre’s laughter halted abruptly as Heero grinned wolfishly down at him. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

“You guys aren’t going to start ganging up on me, are you?”

Heero leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose. “Only when you misbehave.”

“Not fair,” Quatre groaned.

“Who said life was fair?”

“Just don’t start pissing all over the apartment like a pack of unneutered dogs, okay?”

“Are you pouting?”

“No!”

“You are.”

“Oh, shut up,” Quatre muttered, pushing Heero off and rolling onto his side away from him.

Heero however, wasn’t letting him off that easily. He scooted forward until he was flush against the blond’s back and wrapped his arms around him. Quatre tried to shrug him off, but it was pointless and he knew it. He’d seen those same arms bend steel and iron. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t be a brat,” Heero scolded.

“Don’t call me that!”

Taken aback by the uncharacteristic virulence in Quatre’s voice, he tried a softer approach. “I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Quatre. You forget I can read you like a book.”

“Then figure it out yourself, oh wise one.”

Heero’s brow creased in concentration, attempting to ascertain the reason behind the drastic shift in Quatre’s mood and had to smother his laughter when he realized what he was so bent out of shape over.

“It’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry, Quatre. I truly am. It’s just...look, I know you’re a control freak and that this isn’t easy for you, but you know we would never do anything to hurt you, right?”

“Not the point.”

“I know it’s not, but I just want to make sure you understand that. We would never gang up on you with the intention of harming you.”

“I know that.” Quatre huffed and turned to face him. “I’m just having a hard time getting comfortable with this feeling of helplessness.”

“Quatre, you’re not helpless.”

“I am, though. You realize I can never say ‘no’ to any of you, right? Even if I wanted to, I can’t. This parasite inside me controls my responses. All of them. I’m powerless to stop it. It doesn’t matter where I am, or what I’m doing, if you so much as think about having sex with me, I have no choice but to drop everything...including my pants.”

Finally beginning to comprehend what Quatre was struggling with, Heero reached over and caressed his cheek. “But we do try to make sure you enjoy it.”

“I do enjoy it, but that’s what I’m talking about. I don’t think it’s possible for me not to. I know it sounds like the opposite of a problem, but I think getting pleasure from it has more to do with the Omega forcing me to rather than something I’m enjoying out of my own free will. I mean - I’m not saying it’s the only reason I enjoy it, but - damn it, this is coming out all wrong. It’s so hard to explain.”

“It’s not coming out wrong, Quatre. I understand what you’re saying.”

“I just wish I knew how much of it is me and how much of it is this thing inside my head.”

“It’s all you,” Heero told him. “And I know you know that because you’ve already said it. Do you know what a parasite is? It’s an invader. It’s something foreign that doesn’t belong in your body and it robs you of your nutrients and your strength. That’s not what the Omega is. It may feel new and unfamiliar to you, but it’s always been there, running in the background without you even knowing it. It’s as much a part of you as your eyes, or your hair. You’re not at war with some demon that wants to possess you. You’re at war with yourself and until you accept it, this won’t get any easier.”

Quatre was quiet for so long that Heero was beginning to think he wasn’t going to respond, but at last he said, “I suppose you’re right.”

He smiled and cupped the blond's porcelain cheek. “I know this is difficult. We’re all struggling to deal with what’s happened. Who the hell wouldn’t be? We were all thrown into this situation through no conscious choice of our own. It’s life-changing and it’s permanent and it will take time to come to terms with it. The important thing is that we’re all in this together and we’re going to help each other through it, no matter what it takes.”

“You really think we can do this?”

“We got through two wars together. I think we can handle our libidos.”

Quatre laughed and it warmed Heero’s heart to see the relief in his eyes and know that he wasn’t too hopeless when it came to comforting others. “Thanks. I feel a little better now. I’m sorry for biting your head off earlier.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Are you still going to rat me out?”

“I think they already know. Our five-way connection basically gave them a front row seat, if you catch my meaning.”

“Yeah, I thought I felt them, but I wasn’t paying much attention. Kind of hard to focus on other matters when you’re getting your brains fucked out.” Quatre paused, looking thoughtful. “Does that mean you’ll feel us after you leave?”

“I don’t know if distance weakens how much we can sense. Guess we’ll find out soon enough, though.”

“I probably should have asked Iria about it, but I was too overwhelmed at the time. I’m pretty sure I was starting to get on her nerves anyway. There’s still so much to learn. It’s like those all-nighters I used to pull before exams where I had to cram so much information into my brain, it started leaking out of my ears.”

“Your brain leaked out of your ears, or the information?”

“Both.”

Heero chuckled. “Well, don’t stress yourself out. We’ll just take this one day at a time and learn as we go. Eventually it’ll feel like second nature and we’ll wonder how we ever lived any other way.”

“It’s hard to imagine now, but I know you’re right.”

“Are you going to be okay? You’re not worrying about tonight, are you?”

“No,” Quatre assured him, shaking his head for emphasis when Heero gave him a doubtful look. “I’m not, really. In fact, I’m so excited, I’m actually shaking and I need to stop thinking about it because it’s making me wet again.”

Heart pounding from hearing the word 'wet', Heero pushed his hand between the blond’s thighs and cursed when he felt slick accumulating around his opening. “That is so hot.”

Quatre sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed his thighs together. “Ah, fuck. Stop it! Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

Heero gave him a toothy grin. “Why do you think I’m doing it?”

It was inevitable and they both knew it. A prisoner to his Alpha’s lust and his own, Quatre trembled and obediently parted his legs in surrender. His entrance was still relaxed from their earlier coupling and once again preparing itself for Heero with that irresistible slick.

Can we go another round? Do we even have time?

With each passing second, it mattered less and less. Heero’s cock was rock hard and throbbing demands to be buried balls-deep in paradise. As he pushed his finger into Quatre’s wet heat, logic flew right out the window in lieu of insatiable appetite.

He lunged, rolling Quatre beneath him, and pressed his hips into the inviting space between the blond's creamy thighs. He was too far gone to consider foreplay, consumed only by the desperate need to fuck his way to a blinding orgasm.

Quatre put up no resistance, releasing only a soft breath as Heero slid all the way in and clamped his teeth around the delicate wing of a collarbone. The pace was rough and fast, each jarring thrust sending him further into a carnal frenzy. His arms trembled on either side of Quatre’s head, barely able to hold himself up under the force of his own propulsion.

Lost to the pleasure, Quatre whimpered beneath him and arched his back which allowed for deeper penetration. Heero stared down at him, mesmerized by the toned torso wrapped in pale skin and glistening with sweat. He admired the nicely defined chest and tiny nipples, rosy and begging to be sucked on. The sensual column of the blond's neck was stretched and bared, tempting Heero to bite.

Feel me, my beautiful Omega. Feel every inch of me deep inside you. I’m not leaving here until I’ve marked you from the inside out. I want you to feel me for days, every time you move so you never forget who belong to. Don’t be afraid. You know what to do. You’ve been mine since the moment you were born. Embrace your fate as I embrace my own and I'll see to it that you never regret it.

His words were heard loud and clear despite not having spoken them out loud and he was pleased to see them achieve the desired effect. Quatre was beyond restraint, moaning brokenly as he was fucked towards a fast-approaching climax. His body was spurred into overdrive, producing an abundance of slick that ran down his haunches and soaked the bed beneath him. The scent was intoxicating and made Heero’s head spin. He fucked in harder, teeth clenched and sweat dripping into his eyes. He was close, but he held it back and steeled his determination to unravel Quatre first.

It took just five more thrusts before the blond opened his mouth in a silent cry and his muscles went taut like the string of a bow. Heero quickly pulled out and scooted back far enough to bury his face between the cheeks of Quatre’s ass in time to catch the orgasmic gush of fluid and greedily swallow it down.

On the first night, they’d found out about the copious amount of slick Quatre’s body released during climax after Wufei got hit in the face with it. It didn’t matter how many times they made the blond cum, he never seemed to run dry. Now they weren't only prepared for it, but they craved it the way detoxing junkies craved their next fix. They also discovered that consuming it prolonged Quatre’s orgasms to a torturous extent, pushing far beyond his ability to withstand them until he was forced to beg for reprieve.

The effect on the rest of them was different, but no less intense. Heero could already feel it coating his insides like an elixir, leaving pleasant warmth in its wake. He felt lightheaded, but virile, invincible, and compelled to sate his hunger inside the only man who could gratify it.

Quatre was spread out before him flushed and sweaty and deliciously wrecked. His legs were still wide open, though whether he was aware of it was uncertain. He barely flinched as he was penetrated once again and fucked hard enough to make the bed’s headboard thump rhythmically against the wall. The fluttering of his eyelashes and the kitten-soft cries were the only signs that he was still conscious.

Heero grabbed the backs of the blond's thighs and pushed his trembling legs down against the bed, leaving him no other choice but to ride out each brutal thrust. In his lust-clouded mind, mercy was not an option. Only the burning desire to take his pleasure from the body pinned beneath him.

He was startled out of his sex-crazed trance by a sharp, caustic pain that began at his lower back and moved steadily up to his shoulder blades. He hissed through his teeth and reflexively arched his spine in a desperate attempt to relieve the sting, wondering how long it had been since the blond trimmed his fingernails.

Apparently Quatre was not as stupefied as he’d originally thought.

Oh ho, my naughty little pet. Now you’re going to get it.

He dropped his upper body down on top of Quatre’s, using his weight to hold him in place while he scrambled to catch the flailing wrists. Pressing them down on either side of the tousled blond head, he fucked in deep with quick snaps of his hips and sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of Quatre’s neck.

Subdued and unable to move, Quatre endured the force of Heero’s thrusts with clenched teeth and soft whimpers. The penetration was exquisitely deep, reawakening all the right places inside him that made him ache in the most maddening ways. Heero could feel them igniting like sparks of electricity, causing the fine hairs on his body to stand on end.

After four more thrusts, Quatre was coming again with a weak cry of agony and pleasure. His body seized up and his limbs began to twitch and spasm uncontrollably. Another flood of slick pooled around Heero's cock, immersing him in liquid heat which triggered an orgasm so powerful that it blackened the edges of his vision and made him forget how to breathe. He let out an ear-piercing howl and pressed his groin flush against Quatre’s ass until he’d emptied his balls, taking the strength to hold himself up right along with it.

For the first several minutes, his head drifted lazily through the yellow and orange clouds of a late summer’s sky while his body felt abnormally heavy. For some weird reason, his mind conjured up an image of Wing Zero standing above him with its gargantuan foot on top of his back. As disturbing as it was, it still didn’t rouse him from his daze.

“Heero.”

“.....”

“Heero.”

“Hn…”

“Heero!”

He jerked awake and blinked blearily down at Quatre as his brain tried to make sense of its surroundings. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Would you please get off me? It’s a thousand degrees in this room and you’re twice as hot. I’m boiling alive under here.”

A dopey smile curled up the corners of his mouth. “You think I’m hot, eh?”

“Oh my god, would you just get -” Quatre shoved at his shoulders “- off!”

The blond was stronger than he looked and definitely stronger than Heero was at the moment. He yelped as Quatre heaved him up and pushed him off to the side where he flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling in shock. “Jesus Christ. Have you been working out, or something?”

“Or something,” Quatre said with a snort.

Heero watched him get up to dress and admired the view while he languished on top of the ruined bedding with his hands beneath his head. “Damn, you’ve got a beautiful ass, you know that?”

Quatre gave him a wry look over his shoulder. “Are you channeling Duo right now?”

“No. I’m just saying I love your ass.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“I love your ass. I love your whole body. Quatre...it’s so beautiful. You’re so beautiful, especially your mind and your heart and...your spirit. I love everything about you.”

Quatre kept his back turned as he slipped his pajama pants on, but Heero could sense his uneasiness. It was so palpable, he could almost cut it with a knife. “Pretty sure that’s just your Alpha hormones talking.”

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “My Alpha hormones are a part of me. If they’re talking, I’m talking.” Concerned when Quatre didn’t respond, he stood up and approached him, pulling him around so he could see his face. “You still doubt that?”

“How can I not? None of you showed even one iota of interest in me until a week and a half ago and now you’re declaring your love for me? Forgive me for being a little skeptical.”

Heero cupped his face and looked deep into his eyes. “How can you doubt it when you know our history together?”

Quatre stared back at him and shook his head somberly. “That was a different time, Heero. A different life. We were just kids in the midst of war, defeated, vulnerable, and desperate to feel loved.”

“So you’re telling me you felt nothing? Hey -” he pulled Quatre closer when the blond averted his gaze. “Look at me. Look me right in the eyes and tell me you felt nothing for me back then.”

When Quatre glanced back up at him, Heero could see the truth as bright and clear as the crystal blue-green of his irises. Quatre couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t tell him he’d felt nothing because he knew just as much as Heero did that it would be a lie.

Heero leaned in and kissed his lips with a tenderness that was so unlike the untamed aggression of their sex only minutes ago, but it conveyed his emotions and urgent need to comfort better than words ever could.

When he broke the kiss, Quatre ticked a brow at him. “I could have sworn you were head over heels for Relena.”

He laughed bitterly and pressed their foreheads together. “Quatre, I know you remember how messed up I was back then. I didn’t even know which way was up half the time. I was so torn, so conflicted by feelings I technically wasn't supposed to have. I didn’t know what any of it meant, or what to do about it. Besides, it is possible to feel things for more than one person at the same time.”

“What happened between you two anyway?”

He groaned and pulled away to search for his discarded clothing. “There’s not enough time in the world to get into that and definitely not enough time before my flight leaves.”

“Give me the CliffsNotes version then,” Quatre told him as he slipped a white t-shirt over his head. Heero laughed when he read the ‘Bitch, I’m Blonde, What’s Your Excuse?’ slogan written across the front in hot pink letters.

“Well...basically I’m a soldier who was genetically engineered for war and she’s a civilian who just so happens to be the poster child for world peace. We were doomed from the start.”

Quatre stared at him expectantly and he cursed under his breath, exasperated by his unique ability to sniff out even the most inconvenient truths. “And?”

“And? I...eventually figured out that what I felt for her wasn’t so much romantic as it was, I don’t know. Brotherly? That doesn’t seem like the right word either.”

“She reminds you of someone from your past.”

Heero gave him a half-hearted glare. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That,” he repeated, waving a hand at Quatre. “That memory-plucking thing you do. Gives me the creeps.”

“Says the guy who was just inside my head ten minutes ago.”

“Hey, you were in mine, too.”

Quatre abruptly turned away, swiped his watch off the nightstand, and snapped it around his wrist. “It’s four thirty,” he announced by way of changing the subject. “Do you want me to -” He stopped short and gave Heero a panicked look. “Oh, shit! The caterers!”

“Relax. Already taken care of.”

“Oh. Well, thanks for that. I guess it slipped my mind after the epic smackdown this morning. Speaking of which, where’s the rest of the peanut gallery?”

Right on cue, the bedroom door swung open before Heero had a chance to answer. Duo popped his head inside, took stock of their rumpled clothes and disheveled hair, and grinned from ear to ear. “You rang?”

Quatre recovered from his shock faster than the speed of light. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear you squealing like a deflowered prom queen," he quipped and ducked out of the room with a cackle, narrowly avoiding the flying projectile aimed at his head.

Quatre grumbled and turned his ire on Heero who raised his hands defensively. “What? What the hell did I do?”

~ * ~

Chapter 16

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