I've already explained why I'm writing these, so I won't go into all that mess. Keep in mind that this is AU, independent of every other ficcie, and mostly a challenge to my own skills.

NEway, these are V-day fics, so expect yaoi, sap, angst, and lemons. It all depends on my mood as I write.

This one's for Trowa-admin. <grins>

 

Valentine's Day: Fic the Second (4x3)

 

 

 

Ah. Valentine's Day. An ancient holiday that celebrates the bond between lovers. A day for crass commercialism, sappy stories, and the occassional moment of true romance.

Something about it just appeals to me. I don't know why.

I'm putting the finishing touches on my decorations now. He'll be home soon, and I can barely contain my excitement. I wished him a happy Valentine's Day this morning and told him I loved him; doubtless that's as far as he expects it to go.

That's not as far as *I* expect to go. This is our first Valentine's, and I want it to be special, especially after having waited for such a long time to catch my silent lover.

It *still* annoys me a little bit that I lost the bet to Duo about who would get his man first.

Of course, none of that matters now. I have Trowa, and that's all that's really important.

Ah. There he is now. He has such impeccable timing. I greet him at the door, wearing my sweetest, most innocent smile, and take his hand. Unresisting, and smiling faintly, he suffers me to lead him into the dining room, where I've prepared a candlelit dinner and have soft, romantic music playing in the background.

He's still smiling softly, his entire face relaxing and lighting up, and I remember all over again why I fell for him in the first place. I wish I could get him to smile more often than I do; it makes him more than handsome, it makes him beautiful.

I pour champagne for the both of us, and we eat and drink at a leisurely pace, talking quietly about this and that. I adore quiet, intimate moments like this, where nothing in the world exists but the two of us.

The meal finished, I fetch dessert: a box of fine chocolates. He reaches for one, but I playfully slap his hand away, telling him to allow me. He chuckles a little at my whimsy and obediently opens his mouth. I place a piece of chocolate between his expectant lips and allow my fingers to linger for a moment, caressing his cheek. I take a bite of chocolate myself, letting it melt in my mouth, coating my tongue with sweet richness.

I pick up another piece of the chocolate; he nips at a finger, delicately. He's in a playful mood tonight... Excellent. As he savors this bite, I wait patiently. He looks at me expectantly, and I lift another chunk to his mouth, put pull it away swiftly--and place it between my own lips.

His eyes widen at the challenge. He leans forward, pressing his mouth to mine, attempting to retrieve the chocolate. But I don't want to surrender the prize just yet, and he works harder at claiming the chocolate.

Sadly, it melts under the influence of our little battle, and we end up sharing a chocolate flavored kiss. Both our faces are smeared with the stuff by the time we part. I run my tongue over my upper lip, removing some of the coating, and smile at Trowa.

Oh, I definitely have his attention now, even if I didn't have it before. I rise, and offer him my hand. We adjourn to the bedroom, which I have also prepared. More candles shed a soft glow over the room, and there is a scent of roses everywhere.

I pick up on of the many long-stemmed roses lying about the room, and raise it to inhale its fragrance, glancing coyly at him all the while. Then the urge to lick the chocolate from his face overwhelms me, and I pull his head down to bathe his face with my tongue.

Kicking off our shoes, we move to the bed, where the new silk sheets, covered with scattered rose petals, seem to amuse my beloved. We lay down together, and he kisses the last of the chocolate from my face. We kiss each other till we're both breathless.

I'm beginning to feel a bit confined in these clothes, so I begin undressing him... slowly, letting my hands wander up his muscled torso as I peel his shirt away. His wandering hands also tug my shirt away as well, and then I attack the fly of his jeans. He lifts his hips, allowing me to slide his pants and briefs off.

His body gleams golden in the candlelight, and I seize another rose. I brush it across my lips, then across his. I trace the curves and planes of his face with the fragrant petals, and then I trail the blossom down his neck. It ghosts across his chest, teasing at his hardened nipples, and then moves lower, across his abdomen. I smile at his soft intake of breath as I move the rose lower still, running it up and down along his hardness.

I sneak a glance at his face; his eyes are closed and his mouth hangs open slightly, gasping a little for breath. Then I dip my head down and replace the rose with my own mouth.

He gasps my name as I swirl my tongue around his erection, moving up and down in a steady rhythm. Soon his hips are pumping steadily as I bring him closer to completion... and he cries my name again as he comes, filling my mouth with his seed.

I swallow and look back at his face, gleaming now with sweat, completely relaxed in this moment after his release. I divest myself of my remaining clothes and stretch out next to him, entertaining myself by pouring handfuls of rose petals over his chest. He cracks one lazy green eye at me and smiles. I trace a finger across his lips, and then kiss him again, a long, slow, drugging kiss.

He reaches down and strokes me with long, sure fingers. I groan into his mouth, wanting to take him so badly that it almost hurts. I reach for the bottle of oil I had set aside earlier; he takes it from me and pours some into my hands. I move to kneel between his legs as he spreads them, searching with slick fingers for his opening. He grunts a little as I insert first one finger, then a second and third, stretching him in preparation for what is to come. Then, with the surety of practice, I stroke the sweet spot inside.

He throws his head back, hissing a little with the pleasure my touch brings. He's already recovering from his first bout, I notice. Good. I withdraw my fingers now, and move to allow him to coat me with oil. The feeling of his slick fingers wrapped around me is almost enough to make me come here and now, but I hold myself back.

I push myself into his body slowly, prolonging my pleasure and easing the difficulty for him. He relaxes swiftly, and I begin my thrusts, keeping them slow and powerful and aiming to hit his spot with each stroke. Supporting myself with one hand, I use the other to pump his erection, moving in time with my own movements inside him.

We come together, my cries mingling with his as he spurts over my hand and I spill myself inside him. Sweaty and momentarily sated, I drape myself at his side, letting his arm curl around me.

Yes, I love Valentine's Day.

 

 

~~Owari~~

Well, whaddaya think? Don't hesitate to let me know!