New year’s resolution


The hour was 5.53 pm. New year’s day.  Crime Scene: Quatre R. Winner’s not so humble mansion.




At 6 pm sharp, Heero came to an elegant stop in front of a dark, wooden double front door, followed by a much less elegant gargle and the rapturous closing of his eyes.

“Duo, that feels so fucking wonderful, baby… Keep… ah… doing that.”

Colorful Chinese swearing spluttered from the backseat, and an extremely aggravated Chinese bolted out of the black Hyundai (with black tinted windows), unable to watch the shameless flirting and seducing going on in front of him any longer.

“I trust you guys to park the car?” he grunted, snatching Heero’s door open.

“Yes… Oh yes!” Heero groaned, as Duo’s hand was doing wonders in his pants.

“Fine!” And the door slammed shut again. He strode to the door with a purpose. Whether that was to go lock himself in the bathroom and drown himself in the toilet, or to quench the little fire in his own groin, was unknown.

He pushed the doorbell, a rich sound that could be heard even outside.

So then why didn’t anyone open the door?

He pushed again. Still nothing. He checked his watch. 6 pm, Quatre had said, and it was 6 pm.

“Come on, open the damn door, dammit,” Wufei growled, impatiently hopping from one foot to the other.

Happy little screams and joyful hiccups sounded behind him, and he pushed the doorbell a third time, this time accompanied by fierce pounding and urgent yelling.




The large lounge room was bathed in a soft orange glow with several atmospheric lights. The gentle tones of Mozart drifted through the air. The pleasant smell of pop roast in the oven floated from the kitchen. On the table were six glasses, a silver, ice-filled bucket to keep the champagne cold, and a tray of little, puff pastry party snacks.

Against that table, there was the occasional knocking of a bare foot, making the crystal glasses stagger dangerously on their delicate feet. Next to that table, a leather couch was creaking with a suspiciously rhythmical timbre.

“Fuck me, Trowa…” Quatre grunted, clutching at Trowa’s shoulders for purchase, his knees dug in the pillows as his hips rocked up and down Trowa’s lap. “Ahn… baby…”

“Our guests…” Trowa tried to say, but was silenced by Quatre’s hungry mouth on his own.

“What about our guests,” Quatre hissed, biting Trowa’s bottom lip.

“They… will be arriving shortly.” Only seven more minutes, the hands of the antique clock against the wall told him, before they were due to arrive. And he knew that Heero was never late.

Quatre smirked against Trowa’s lips. “Don’t be such a sissy. You’re so hard. You can’t possibly open the door with a raging hard on poking in your pants. We have to do something about that. Now come on, move your hips.” He let his head fall back, and leaned back a bit to give his lover a nice view through his open shirt. He knew he couldn’t resist that.

Trowa bit his lip as pressure was added to his cock. Looking in front of him, he saw the taut planes of Quatre’s chest and abs. That ice pudding they had in the freezer for dessert would look so good on him right now. He wanted to smear it open all over him. “Ohh… Little one…”

At once Quatre’s head veered up again. “Do *not* call me “little one”,” he growled. “I am *not* little.” And he jerked Trowa’s left hand from where it was resting possessively on his hip and made him feel his cock, long and pink. “Don’t you remember our little game from the other night?”


“Of course you remember. Although you’re trying to forget.” A warm, wet tongue darted out against Trowa’s ear. “Because you weren’t happy with the result.” Quatre’s voice was starting to take on a slightly victorious tone at that moment. “Because mine…”

“Don’t you dare say it!” Trowa hissed.

Laughing, Quatre looked his lover in the eye, challenging. “Because mine is bigger than yours. And *that*, you can’t stomach.”

“Why, you dirty little prick…” Trowa growled, and he tightened his grip on Quatre’s hips, red fingerprints marking the delicate skin. “You’re such a bad boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, very bad,” Quatre nodded, eagerly bouncing on Trowa’s lap. “Punish me, Trowa. Ah… Been so bad… Punish me!”

Trowa groaned as Quatre’s decadent enthusiasm got him so worked up, and he lifted his boyfriend’s hips, to slam them back down hard on his cock.

“Fuck! Trowa!” Quatre cried.

“Yes. “Fuck”. That’s what you want, don’t you?” Trowa’s teeth grazed a path along Quatre’s baby soft neck, luminous with sweat, up to softly bite his earlobe. “Do you love me, Quatre?”

“Uhn… Yes.”

“Do you adore me?”

“I do! I adore you! I worship you! Trowa…”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Quatre breathed. “I… worship you, Trowa…”

“No you don’t. You worship my *cock*.” Trowa punctuated that last word with a hard thrust up Quatre’s tight channel, hitting Quatre’s prostate. Quatre cried out. His knee slid from the cushions, and his foot banged against the edge of the table.

“Yes, but… Trowa… It’s *your* cock, and… That’s why I worship *you*.”

“Always good with explanations, aren’t you, my little whore.”

“Whore, me?”

“Yes you. Who else would want to fuck me ten minutes before we have people over the house?”

“You were eager enough. You were hard as a rock.”

“What do you expect, after your little stunt.

“If you’re talking about that lap dance, you seemed to enjoy every minute of it.”

Trowa grunted in annoyance. That was true, and the little devil knew it. He was irresistible when he started dancing in that sensual way, swaying his cute ass above his thighs, running his hands over his slender body, taking a bit of clothing along, but not revealing everything. Looking at him with those horny eyes, pouting his lush kissable lips.

He was irresistible now, his cute ass impaled on his cock, hands clawing at his shirt, the eyes those of a whore, craving release, lips red and swollen from urgent kisses. He made him lose all control when he was like this. He was the embodiment of sex, and he didn’t even have to try.

“T‑Trowa… Don’t stop…” Quatre’s pace was speeding up, and he clenched his muscles to encourage his lover. “I don’t think I… can hold myself any longer. Touch me, Trowa!”

“Ask nice, you whore.”

“In your dreams, you fuck toy! I’ll do it myself!” Quatre squeezed a hand in between their stomachs, and quickly stroked himself. “Oh yeah! So nice…”

Suddenly a melodious sound chimed through the house.

“They’re here,” Trowa hissed. “Get off.” Pun not intended.

“No… Wanna cum first. So close, Trowa. Just a bit… ah… more!” Quatre whimpered, softly biting Trowa’s freshly shaven chin.

“Quatre, get off now!”

“Doesn’t it turn you on? To know that they’re waiting outside, while we’re in here, doing… Ah… Yeah!”

It didn’t seem like Quatre was planning on obeying before he’d got things his way. Thus, Trowa started thrusting his hips with vigor. After all, he was pretty desperate to come himself too. “Come for me, my beautiful whore.”

“Yes! Talk to me like that! I’m your whore, I’m your slut! I’ll do whatever you want.” As long as it resulted in a spectacular climax, of course.

The doorbell rang a second time.

“Trowa… I’m cumming… Ah… Aah…” And with a squeeze of Trowa’s hands on Quatre’s bare ass, and a tug of his own hand on his cock, Quatre tipped gloriously over the edge.

Trowa groaned as Quatre contracted around him, and with a sound coming from deep within, he shot his seed inside of his lover.

“Gods, Trowa. That was…”

“No time for sweet aftertalk, dammit. We have guests waiting at the door.” Trowa unceremoniously threw his demanding boyfriend on the couch and straightened, wincing as he noticed a wet patch on his once immaculate shirt. He cursed and, grabbing for the vest of his tux, hastened to the door.

“You asshole!” Quatre yelled behind him in mock anger. “How dare you leave me here like this! You’re supposed to hold me, and bask in the afterglow with me!” he said, while he dramatically sprawled out on the couch with a hand over his forehead.

“Quatre, stop acting so childishly!” Trowa hissed, while he adjusted his vest, making sure the stain was covered. “Get your pants on, move your ass over here and play the perfect host.”

Again, the bell rang, and someone was apparently trying to bang his way through the door.

“Ah, you’re no fun,” Quatre whined, but did as he was told anyway. For once. He slipped on a sunny smile and opened the door, stepping aside as Wufei literally fell in.

“That was about time,” Wufei complained. “What the hell took you so long?”

“Eh… Please, do come in, Wufei,” Quatre said with a confused smile. “What’s the rush?”

Wufei didn’t answer. His delicate nose had immediately picked up on something. The elusive smell of fresh cum. He brushed past Quatre with a simple, but obvious statement.


Trowa coughed discreetly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wufei.”

“Your fly’s open, Barton.”

“Shit.” Trowa quickly zipped up his pants, and waved a hand to Quatre. “Will you take Wufei’s coat, little one.

There was a short silence. Trowa looked up to see why, and saw Quatre glaring at him, slowly stalking over to him.

“I am going to hurt you,” Quatre said with a threatening finger.

“Oh, are you? Are you going to *hurt* me, *little* one?” Trowa teased, while he tugged the hips of his slender lover close to his.

“Uhu. So much. You are going to *beg* for mercy.”

Wufei cleared his throat. “I’ll be in the… ahem… yeah… lounge roomRight.” He turned on his heels, seeking safety in the adjoining room. He made himself comfortable on the couch.  Funny, it creaked a bit.  He would have expected better from a couch whose comfort and style had always been personally – and enthusiastically - extolled by Quatre.  Taking a snack off the tray, he waited until the other two were… done. Which was, surprisingly, relatively quickly.

“Where are Duo and Heero?” Quatre asked, as he glided into the lounge room.

“I left them to park the c…”

Honk honk.

All three fell silent. Then Trowa spoke again.

“What the hell was that?”

“It sounded like the horn of a car,” Quatre said, moving to the window. “And it’s coming from in front of the house.” He moved aside the net curtain and curiously peered through the window, soon joined by two other pairs of eyes. “Isn’t that Heero’s car? Why is it rocking like that?”

“Damn impossible to see anything with those black windows,” Trowa cursed.

“Oh… I think I might know…” Wufei peeped.

Honk… Honk honk.

“Let’s go see,” Trowa suggested.

“I agree,” Quatre nodded.

“No wait!”




Quatre approached the car with a little wariness in his eyes, his entire attitude in fact, like it might pounce on him any moment. Trowa was right behind him. For backup. The thing kept on merrily honking away. There were funny noises coming from the inside too, apart from the honking. He gingerly reached for the handle.

“Quatre, I wouldn’t open that door, if I were you!” Wufei still tried to warn him. But it was too late, and Quatre roughly pulled the door open.

“Holy mother of fucking god!” the blonde yelled.

Wufei stared, perplexed at the innocent looking boy’s language. Then he stared some more, but no longer at Quatre.

“Now, *those* are animals,” Trowa said.

The two boys in the car were seemingly oblivious of the fact that they were being watched. They reminded Quatre and Trowa much of the position they had been in a few minutes ago. The honking, that was due to Duo’s ass being pounded down on the wheel every now and then.

“What do you like, Heero?” Duo hissed in Heero’s ear. “Come on, tell me. What do you like?”

“*This*,” Heero growled.

Ah, always a man of few words. “This? What is “this”, Heero? What am I doing?”

“I…” Pant pant. “I like it when you… oh… ride my cock like this… Nice and hard.”

“You want it harder? Huh? Harder, you bitch?”

“Yes, harder! You control me, Duo! Make me come, and make it good.”

*You control me*?, three at the moment seriously stupefied minds wondered. It was then that they noticed that Duo had somehow managed to maneuver the seat belt around and over Heero’s thighs and the car seat, restraining Heero’s legs enough so he couldn’t move his hips. And thus was left to Duo’s mercy.

“Ride me, baby. Please…” Heero whimpered. “I wanna cum so badly…”

“Uhn… You make me so hot when you talk to me like that, Heero. Fuck, I’m close,” Duo groaned, and moved his hips faster.

“Don’t you dare come before me, you prick. I’ll have no other stimulation.”

“And what would you do if I did?”

“You can count on severe punishment. And it’s *always* such a joy to punish you.”

“Then maybe I should just…”

“NO! Please… I beg of you. You like hearing me beg, don’t you?”

“Yes, my dirty slut. You can beg very nicely.”

“Are we having fun?”

The three ogling boys jumped, as long arms were slung over their shoulders.

“Dammit, Zechs!” Wufei muttered. “Damn silent engines nowadays. Don’t ever hear them coming.”

“No, but you hear *them* coming,” Quatre chuckled, nodding towards the rocking car.

Zechs smiled, and kissed his lover sweetly on the lips. “Hi sweetie.”

“Hey handsome,” Wufei smiled in return.

“So. And what are your new year’s resolutions,” Zechs beamed.

Trowa sidled up close behind his boyfriend and squeezed his ass with a significant wink of the eye. “Take a wild guess.”