This is kind of a sequel to the cinnamon bun story. But this one is kind of strange. SEND COMMENTS! thank -you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. They belong to Bandai entertainment. I only borrow them for kitchen activities, like this one. Besides, if you sue me, I think you'll lose money, since I am a university student. 'Nuff said.

Warnings: 2x3 lime and lemon and abuse of nutmeg and flour. Oh and some language, but not bad.

Pairings: 1x2, 2x3, 3x4, 5xSP

Description: Sort of sequel to Cinnamon buns, Gundam-style. It evolved from a comment by Phynix about pumpkin pies and my friends comments that nutmeg does this to people.

It's my first lemon. Laugh if you want. But I do want feedback! Email: Saxonyten@yahoo.com

And now...on with the fic.


Pumpkin Pies, Or How Trowa and Duo Blessed the
Kitchen. By: Jim Morrison.



Trowa sat at the kitchen table carefully studying the book in front of him when Duo crawled out of the hole he called a room and sauntered into the kitchen. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Duo made his way to the table and plopped down across from the silent French boy, who (Surprise) said nothing and kept on staring at his book.

"Morning" Duo offered as he stretched out and sighed contentedly. Trowa's visible emerald eye studied Duo carefully before he actually spoke.

"It's afternoon, Maxwell." Trowa pointed out before returning his attention to his book.

"Uh. Yeah. Whatever." Duo responded as he vigorously scratched his head, making his hair a bigger rat's nest than it was already. He smiled then and lay his head upon his arm and studied Trowa with a thoughtful statement on his face that made the Heavy arms pilot extremely nervous. He hated when Duo gave him those looks. It always spelled trouble for him.

"You know Quatre and Heero are due back from their mission today." Duo immediately straightened up and got an evil little smile on his face, which told Trowa way too much about what his fellow pilots' sex life. Trowa rolled his eyes as he imagined what kind of thoughts Duo was getting in that sick little head of his.

<Well, at least he stopped looking at you> Trowa thought, deciding to put his irritation away and let Duo's gutter mind lose its momentum and join the real world again.

"Hey, Isn't it Quatre's birthday today?" Trowa blinked at the news, completely floored.

"Please tell me you're kidding, Duo." The stoic pilot begged the American. Duo shook his head.

"No, I'm not, Trowa. See?" Duo pointed to the calendar tacked onto the far kitchen wall.

"Oh no!" Trowa moaned as he saw today's date circled in red with an arrow proclaiming

"Quatre's b-day!" in red ink. Trowa let his head drop onto the table with a loud thump.

"What am I going to do? He'll be so crushed if I have nothing ready for him. I'm so dead!"

Trowa moaned in heartfelt despair as he began to bang his head against the table.

Duo bit his lip as he watched Trowa. Although he was more Quatre's friend, he still felt sorry for the taller pilot and his predicament. He also knew that if he didn't help, Quatre might get hurt badly and splinter the cohesive group that the pilots had formed. Which in turn, would defeat their purpose as a superb fighting unit. He sighed. Funny how small things could create bigger problems in the long run. There was no help for it. He'd have to stick his nose in it.

"Trowa? Look. Maybe I can help." Trowa started banging his head harder against the table. With luck, he'd be able to pass out and claim amnesia when Quatre returned. He'd rather chew his own leg off than be involved in Maxwell's schemes. The last time that had happened, He had woken up in the middle of a soccer field with a bloody nose and wearing nothing but a soccer jersey. He still wanted to know how that happened. Hell, he didn't even OWN a soccer jersey.

"Look, you git!" Duo yelled at him, making him stop his banging and look at the braided pilot.

"The way I see it is this: You don't accept my help, you end up in the dog-house. Permanently. This may crush Quatre so badly that he might just throw you out on your spiky-haired ass. We'll break down and lose the war. You want that? Or the next option is to make one of his favourite desserts, buy him a couple of nice presents and have an impromptu birthday party and you get some nookie, I get some nookie and we're all happy." He frowned as he remembered something.

"Well, except for Wu-fei. He always complains about the noise. Oh well. Maybe we can ship him off to Sally Po's or something. Well what do you say?" A couple of thumps answered him.

Losing patience, Duo grabbed a good-sized handful of hair and yanked hard.

"And stop doing that! If you want to knock yourself out, I suggest running into a wall at full-tilt. All you're doing there is denting the table with that porcupine you call hair."

Trowa glared at him, but the glare left his face when he saw Duo was right. On both counts.

"All right. All right. What's his favourite dessert?"Duo asked the taller boy.

"Cinnamon buns were one of them." That earned Trowa a dirty look. The last time they had made cinnamon buns, they had screwed each other silly. Although the sex had been mind-blowing, Duo still shuddered whenever anyone mentioned cinnamon.

"Anything else?" He asked testily, rubbing his jaw in remembered pain.

"I think another one was Pumpkin pie." Trowa said, his brow furrowed as he tried to recall if it was for sure. But it was too late. The idea had stuck in Maxwell's head and it would stay there permanently. Trowa recalled his friend's single-mindedness too late. Short of bashing him on the head with a brick, the idea wouldn't be removed. Trowa looked up to the ceiling. Although he didn't believe in a higher celestial being, embarking on a project with Maxwell was enough to prompt him into commending his soul somewhere else.

"Oh great! Great! I know how to make pumpkin pie! It's really easy! And we don't even need cinnamon for it either!" Trowa's lips twitched at the mention of the dreaded spice.

"Really? What do you use instead?" Trowa asked, reluctantly warming up to the idea. Although he didn't want to be, Maxwell's enthusiasm was contagious. He likened this feeling to jumping off a cliff with your eyes wide open. It was thrilling, but you still knew you were gonna end up with a couple more bruises and scars than you were actually bargaining for on your way down.

"Nutmeg!" Duo exclaimed happily. "Just leave it to me. I'll get the supplies for making the pies. You go get a nice present for Quatre. When you come back, we can make the pies, all right?"

Trowa frowned. "How long do you think it'll take us? They said they'd be back around evening at the latest." Duo held up a hand to stem Trowa's words.

"Trust me. It won't take long. Everything will go smoothly. I promise." Trowa frowned.

Why didn't he like the sound of that? Oh well. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

2 hours later...

Trowa came home to the sweet, tangy scent of Pumpkin Pie filling simmering on the stove and Duo singing at the top of his lungs as he busily and loudly worked in the kitchen. Feeling amused, he put the shopping bag that contained a nicely wrapped copy of Dylan Thomas' poems and a simple promise ring made out of polished silver on the coffee table and went into the kitchen. He didn't know whether to laugh or weep in relief.

The kitchen was well on its way to looking as bad as it did at the time of the "Cinnamon" incident. There were liberal amounts of flour and a musky, very tangy spice that he guessed was nutmeg all over the counters and the floor. Utensils were carelessly chucked into the sink, which was half-filled with floury, soapy water. Even Duo himself was splattered with flour, nutmeg, and smeared with what he guessed was pie filling. But the crusts of the pies were ready and all that needed to be done was to wait for the filling to be cooked and poured into the pie shells.

Duo was busy stirring the filling and his face was flushed from what Trowa guessed was the effort of making the pies. Although he noticed that Duo was tugging at the collar of his shirt and was frowning down at the mixture in the pot as in deep thought, he didn't think anything of it. In fact, all he could think about was that Duo hadn't screwed anything up royally that he never realized or reviewed the repercussions that his next actions would bring.

"Thank-you, Duo! Thank-you! You can't believe how this has saved me!" Trowa exclaimed as he picked up the shorter boy and embraced him tightly. That's when things started.

By embracing Duo, he got a face full of nutmeg, which he inhaled quickly. That was a bad mistake, since it hit him like pure vodka straight to his brain. The next thing that happened was that since Heero had been gone for a long time, Duo had already been sex-starved. The celibacy, combined with the nutmeg plus Trowa's closeness proceeded to shut all of Duo's common sense down. Guess which function was left, kiddies?

Trowa realized this at the same time that Duo's lips crushed themselves against his. But by that time, it was too late for him already. Succumbing to the silky softness of Duo's lips, they sank onto the linoleum, their hands busy tearing each other's clothes off as they hungrily explored the insides of each other's mouths, tasting and re-tasting the true taste of each other.

Clothes were ripped off in impatience and hurled all over the place, their owners unheeding as to were they landed. All they were concerned about what was getting inside each others' skins.

Duo lay underneath Trowa, his delicate, long hands busy caressing and gaining knowledge of Trowa's smooth, flexible body as the taller boy frantically ripped the tie off of Duo's braid and desperately freed the long, heavy masses of thick, chestnut hair and wound his hands into the depths. He had never felt such richness before. It felt like watered silk in his hands and he envied Heero Yuy very strongly at that moment. He would only have this chance to feel Duo's hair for this one brief, stolen season. Yuy would have it for the rest of his life.

"Take me, Trowa. Take me." Duo whispered as they broke off their long kiss. Trowa couldn't have refused Duo even if he had wanted to. Those dark, indigo eyes held him trapped as much as the hair in his hands did. He wanted to do it. He would take this fey creature. Take him for as long as he was able to. This stolen season had to be made worth it. He wanted it to be worth something than just a clandestine affair never to be repeated again.

"Duo." Trowa breathed out before gently kissing the delicate flesh of Duo's small earlobes. Duo moaned as he felt the warm wetness of the French boy's mouth as he alternated between kissing and sucking him. Each kiss and suck sent warm shivers of lust down to his groin, soon making it highly obvious to Trowa how much Duo was affected by his ministrations.

Duo groaned as Trowa's hands began to softly caress his thighs and pelvis. Each touch made his skin feel as if it was on fire. He was just a bundle of nerve endings, too concerned with being touched to actually do anything in return. But Trowa didn't mind. His turn would come. He would be patient. Besides, his arousal was being stoked by the small sounds that the boy under him made and the way that the liquid silk of his hair slid through his fingers.

He moaned softly as he moved from the fey boys' ear down to his neck, making him let out a small muffled shriek as Trowa's soft, firm lips made their way down his slim neck to his collar bones.

"Trowa!" Duo sighed as his hands found their way to Trowa's long, graceful neck. Trowa kept going lower, leaving a moist trail of kisses from his neck down to his hips, where he began to nuzzle into the chestnut thatch where Duo's manhood twitched impatiently. He laughed softly when he saw that. Soon. Soon he would claim it.

Duo's eyes, which had been slitted to narrow blue lines, suddenly flew open as he felt himself be taken deeply into Trowa's more than capable mouth. It was so warm, so slick, so tight that he was nearly weeping from the pleasure he was getting from Trowa. His hips were moving in a pattern as he sought to increase the pleasure that he was getting from that mouth tightening and loosening, biting and licking him to mindless desire. He heard himself sigh as his body began to prepare itself for the inevitable release that Trowa and his wonderful mouth were bringing about. It felt like he was being cut so exquisitely and deeply, but without the aftermath of pain. It was only pleasure. Pure pleasure that was threatening to short-circuit his brain from the overload of it.

Suddenly, he speeded up, deep-throating it as he bit and sucked it, mixing blood-red streaks of pain with the pale blue of pleasure that were visible every time that he closed his eyes.

Harder. Faster. Hurt. Harder. Hurt me. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper... Duo threw his head back and howled exactly like a lion would have in the midst of an orgasm as he spent himself in Trowa.

In return, Trowa tilted his head back and swallowed the spicy, minty tasting essence from the delicate boy. So delicious. So different from Quatre, who always tasted like oranges to him.

He winced as he recalled the tightness and pain pooling in his own neglected erection. It was his turn now. He turned his head and looked at Duo, who was lying limply upon the floor, his slim, elfish like body spread in wanton abandon. His legs were spread wide, giving him an excellent view of his tight entrance. He was beginning to drip just thinking about entering that almost otherworldly flesh.

Spreading his legs a little wider, Trowa crawled in between them and held his hand up to Duo's open mouth. With precise moves, he stuck his fingers into Duo's mouth. Duo licked at them feebly, like a new-born kitten would lap up milk. But it got the desired results. Once his fingers were wet enough, he began to gently caress the tight ring, coaxing the entrance to allow one of his fingers in. Duo jerked and let out a mewling squeak that trailed off into a moan as Trowa stuck another finger in and began to look for Duo's sweet spot. By the time he had gotten his third finger in, he had the Deathscythe pilot trying his best to impale himself on the fingers inside his tight entrance.

Now. Trowa thought and pulled his fingers out. Taking a hold of those slim hips, Trowa positioned himself and thrust, hoping that the saliva and his own pre-come would be enough lubrication. Those thoughts were driven out of his head when he felt himself enter Duo as easily as if he had just taken a dive into pure spring water. He stopped for a second to collect himself. He couldn't finish it just yet. He had to make it last. After getting used to the tightness surrounding him, he began to thrust slowly at first, then harder as Duo's throaty growls and moans sent shivers down his spine. Those sounds were wreaking havoc on his usual iron control. After what seemed like ages of deep thrusting and hearing those moans as he slammed into that pale flesh, Trowa felt his eyes roll back into his head. Flashes of green and blue went past his line of sight and stars exploded, blinding him as he filled Duo up with his seed. Letting out a load groan, he let himself collapse onto the smaller boy, his head upon the smooth chest, his ear directly above his rapidly beating heart.

They lay like that for what seemed hours, not moving, just enjoying being that close to each other. But eventually, they had to get up. It wouldn't do to get caught in their secret. Reluctantly, they got cleaned up and re-dressed. They didn't speak as they finished their tasks. It was as if they both knew if they said anything, they would make the dream-like quality fade and be left with the fact that they had been overcome by lust, pure and simple.

"I told you it would come out all right." Duo whispered to Trowa as they watched Quatre and the others enjoying the pies with great gusto. Everyone except Sally Po, that was.

"Is there something wrong with the pie, Sally?" Trowa asked politely. Sally frowned.

"I don't know. It's very spicy." She commented as she sniffed a bite of her piece.

"Yeah, it's nutmeg." Duo added helpfully. Sally's eyes widened and she dropped her fork.

"Duo? Trowa? How much nutmeg did you put in those pies?" Trowa looked at Duo.

"Umm. There were four pies and we didn't have cinnamon, (for a good reason) So I just dumped the whole jar in." Sally groaned and shook her head.

"What? What is it? Don't tell me it does the same thing as cinnamon." Duo moaned.

"Sort of. It only affects people from the L2 and the L3 colony clusters." Quatre and Heero looked at Trowa and Duo as if they expected them to go at it any minute.

"Not in that way!" Sally exclaimed, getting exasperated. "First of all, for it to affect them, they'd have to eat an entire box of nutmeg. Secondly, it doesn't make them want to be sex fiends. It acts more or less like the mythical love potion of Tristan and Isolde."

Everyone watched Trowa and Duo a little bit longer, to see if they were acting differently, but all that happened was that Trowa glowered at everyone and Duo began making grotesque faces.

As the others returned to their interrupted activities, Trowa took the chance and clasped Duo's hand loosely. Duo looked down and nodded, a glimmer of tears was visible in their violet depths.



Notes: Tristan and Isolde they were lovers separated by the fact that Isolde was married to Mark of Cornwall and Tristan was his nephew. They supposedly fell in love after drinking a potion meant for Isolde and Mark. The problem was that this potion bound the two together until death.

I just substituted nutmeg for the actual potion. End.