Disclaimers: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.
Notes: Quatre expresses his wants. And Mueller tries his best to please Zechs.
Warnings: Lime ahead.
Quatre worried at his lower lip as he carefully worked on writing his alphabet. There were sounds coming from the room that
Duo and Heero were sharing. He recognized those sounds and frowned a little when his pajama bottoms started feeling a
Wufei sighed and looked in the direction the noises were coming from. "You would think that those two would have a little
consideration, and a little more restraint considering they're both ill."
Quatre tilted his head. "Is it bad for us to know that they are mating?"
His friend's face reddened. "Not bad, I guess. But humans are not creatures of instinct and most of us feel embarrassed to hear
others engaging in such activities."
"Wufei, do you think Trowa would want to with me?" He didn't see the look of shock cross Wufei's face.
"Want to what?" Trowa walked in, looking a little tired but otherwise well.
Quatre smiled at the man he felt a longing for. He set aside his book and pencil. "Would you want to mate with me?"
Trowa had been about to sit down, but he missed the chair completely at Quatre's question. He scrambled to get up, his hand
visibly shaking on the chair as he used it to right himself. "Quatre, that is not a question that should be asked so bluntly."
The blonde frowned in confusion. He didn't understand. "Bluntly?" Why couldn't Trowa speak in simple terms?
"It means you shouldn't ask that question the way that you did," Trowa answered, sliding into the chair.
That statement only served to confuse Quatre more. "You mean I shouldn't be honest? How should I ask it then? I want an
answer and how else can I get one? I've been wanting a mate, and you are the first person I like enough to mate with. So
would you want to mate with me?"
Wufei made a sound and Quatre could see that he wanted to either laugh or run from the room. Quatre didn't understand why.
The Chinese youth chose the latter, discreetly excusing himself and leaving the two men alone in the room.
With a groan, Trowa covered his eyes with his hand. He looked to be in pain. Quatre worried about him. "Quatre, you don't
know enough people to make a judgment like that."
"But ... there's Heero and Duo and Wufei." Quatre's frown only deepened. There were people here in this cabin, plenty of
people. But he only wanted Trowa. Duo and Heero were already mated to each other. They were mating right now. And
Quatre suspected that Zechs and Mueller were paired.
The tall brunette laughed without mirth. "You can't make a judgment from less than a dozen people available. There are
thousands - no, millions - of people available in the world." He sighed and straightened. "Just let yourself get acquainted with
more people before you make any judgment calls on who you want to spend the rest of your life with. Because, honestly, I
won't be a one-night stand."
Unfamiliar with that phrase, Quatre took it at face value. "Why would someone stand for a whole night?" He tilted his head to
"It means that I don't want to be there for just one night. If you mate with me, and find someone you like better later on, it
would hurt a great deal."
That explanation hurt Quatre's feelings. Didn't Trowa understand him at all? He dropped his hand to the side and let his fingers
stroke the fur of Mother's head. "I was raised by wolves. Wolves mate for life. When I mate with you, there will be no
other." Then he turned and picked up the book and pencil again. Trying not to pout, he began writing, though his handwriting
suffered greatly by his trembling hands. He wanted Trowa. Why couldn't Trowa see that? He didn't want anyone else.
There was a scrape of a chair leg against the floor as Trowa got up. "You'll see that I'm right about this, Quatre. One day, I'm
sure you will." With that, he left the room.
Quatre sniffled, his eyes beginning to burn. "I don't want anyone else," he said softly. When his throat began to hurt, he threw
his book away from him. It landed somewhere on the other side of the room. Mother whimpered. Quatre didn't feel good.
Something in him was aching. He didn't understand. Trowa didn't want him. Was there something wrong with him?
He shoved the blankets away from his body and slid from the couch. The pain in his ankle was ignored as he eased himself to
the floor beside Mother. He snuggled against her warm fur, seeking out her familiar comfort. Her slick tongue was welcome
as it ran the length of his face, cleaning him as she had done so many times in the past. The attention was familiar, as was the
lighter weight of Brother climbing up to lie between their bodies. He was with the family that had raised him, but he felt no
better. That pain didn't go away.
Burying his face in Mother's fur, he cried.
Mueller gazed over at Zechs with open admiration. Alex had nothing over this man. Zechs had muscles that came from an
active lifestyle rather than from the vanity of exercising only enough to maintain them. In all things, Zechs surpassed Alex. He
had a grace to him that looked ingrained, rather than rehearsed.
Zechs realized he was being watched and smiled over at Mueller. "See something you like?" He set aside the book he had been
reading and moved across the room to sit at Mueller's bedside. He hadn't been feeling well earlier and Zechs had insisted he take
It was a gentle teasing. Though it initially made him wary, he knew that Zechs meant no harm. Alex would have ordered him
on the floor in that instant, but Zechs wasn't like that. With a frail smile, Mueller nodded. "I see something that I like a lot."
Zechs' hand gently and slowly moved to rest against his forehead, then to his cheek. "How are you feeling?"
Mueller couldn't stop his smile from spreading wide. He'd never had anyone truly care about him before, not for a very long
time. Alex was only concerned with his own pleasure, not what Mueller wanted, not the pain it caused Mueller or the damage
left behind. Zechs was kind and warm and loving. He seemed to genuinely care what happened to him, seeking to take care of
him even though he was sick, sitting beside him when he had to have something far more interesting to do. It was odd, but it
left Mueller feeling a deep warmth inside.
He turned his head just enough to gently take Zechs' thumb between his teeth. Offering a slight smile, he stared into the blonde's
eyes as he gave the pad a firm lick, then began to suck suggestively at the digit.
He had to thank Zechs for being so kind. He knew that. Alex would have punished him if he didn't offer gratitude. Maybe
Zechs wanted the same thing. Mueller didn't know, but he wasn't about to take the chance.
Giving the thumb one last lick, Mueller let it slip from between his lips. Zechs slid his slick thumb across the lips that had only
just been wrapped around him, even as Mueller licked the salty taste of Zechs' skin from his lips, briefly flicking across the
man's thumb once again.
"You taste good," Mueller groaned, forcing his arms to work and pushing himself to a sitting position. He moved swiftly to his
knees and started kissing Zechs' neck. "I want to taste more," he breathed, fingers making quick work of unbuttoning the man's
Zechs didn't have time to say a word as Mueller eased his hand into his pants and began stroking his twitching member. Mueller
dropped down, hoping Zechs would accept this show of gratitude. He barely had the man's prick out of his shorts before he
wrapped his lips around the swelling head. The taste of it sent shivers down his spine. Salty of purely Zechs, the musky scent
of his body blazing its way through his body with every inhale. He found himself quickly losing his senses, throwing himself
into his task. He'd make Zechs happy and then Zechs wouldn't hurt him. But beneath that, he found himself wanting to taste
more, to feel more. He wanted Zechs to come, to flood his greedy mouth with his hot seed.
He groaned, bobbing his head up and down, pausing only briefly once and again to dart his tongue into the slit and steal away
more of his nectar. God, Zechs tasted good, better than Alex ever had. Then again, Zechs had never beaten his mouth bloody
before fucking his throat. Mueller had never been able to set his own pace. But Zechs wasn't shoving him down, wasn't tearing
out his hair or shoving himself root-deep, threatening to knock his teeth out if he dared bite him. Zechs' hands were in his hair,
yes, but they were merely there, twisting in his hair. His hips were rocking back and forth in time with Mueller's devouring
When Zechs came, it was with a guttural groan and a jerk of his slim hips. Mueller drank him down eagerly, the heady liquid
splattering out in thick shots. The tall blonde jolted forward twice more, each time producing another spurt of milky come.
Mueller eased back, his throat aching, but happy. He eased his hand along Zechs' lightly quivering thigh. A stray droplet of
semen lingered on his flagging length and Mueller bent to it, licking it away with a swipe of his tongue. The action made the
blonde groan again, his cock jerking to life to issue one last splatter of cream across Mueller's cheek.
It startled and yet thrilled him to feel the essence of this beautiful man dribbling down his face. He wanted Zechs to do it again,
but doubted he'd be able to get it up again so soon. The heavy organ was almost fully deflated already and Mueller couldn't get
enough of looking at it. Even in this state, Mueller was hungry for more of him.
A hand brushing a tissue across his cheek to wipe away the fluids snapped Mueller from his thoughts. Fear slammed into his
chest. Had he done something wrong? Had Zechs wanted something more? Maybe he'd wanted to fuck him? He backed
away, wrapping his arms around himself.
"Mueller?" Zechs called out to him. He moved closer, but never touched him, though his hand hovered in the air inches away.
"I won't hurt you. I swear I won't. Did I hurt you? I should have stopped you. I'm sorry. Are you okay? I'm sorry."
Mueller blinked. Zechs was sorry? He was worried? Mueller could hardly believe it. He looked up, blinking at the beautiful
man dubiously. "Y-You liked what I did?"
A careful smile wormed across the blonde's face. "God, yes. You blow like a ... well, I've NEVER had better." He eased
closer, his pants still undone and hanging from his hips. Sliding his hand cautiously up Mueller's calf, he asked. "Do you want
me to do something for you?"
Those simple words made the breath leave Mueller's body. Zechs was asking his permission. He almost couldn't believe it. If
he hadn't heard it with his own ears, he wouldn't have. Oh, how come he couldn't have met this wonderful man so much
sooner? The pain he could have been spared. It made tears well up in his eyes to think of how much he had lost by not
confessing his feelings the first moment he had set his sights on Zechs all those years ago, the first day Mr. Winner had brought
him and Alex to this very station. He wiped at his eyes, feeling like a fool.
"Why couldn't I have said something to you sooner?" he asked, though not really needing an answer. He reached out, grabbing
Zechs' wandering hand. "H-Hold me, please." He lowered his eyes, his cheeks warming. "I-I'd like to feel your skin against
Zechs shucked off his clothes and eased into bed behind Mueller. The brunette turned in the taller man's arms, pressing his bare
back to Zechs' chest. He was embarrassed, but happy, that Zechs had helped him out of his own clothing earlier. His bruises
and other injuries made wearing clothes uncomfortable.
Zechs' hand slid under the blanket to stroke his bare hip. His searing touch moved forward, coming a bare fraction from
Mueller's own stiff penis. Mueller stopped that hand with a wavering grip on his wrist. "C-Could you just hold me?""
The hand moved back to his hip, his thumb stroking back and forth over the skin. "As long as you want me to." Despite having
come earlier, Zechs was getting hard again. His manhood nudged between Mueller's ass cheeks, but did nothing more, merely
Mueller smiled. It was easy to relax with Zechs' solid strength behind him. He felt no true fear in the other man's presence.
That was something he never thought possible. He snuggled back, almost giggling at the heated groan the movement issued, as
well as the prick that nudged his backside again.
"Keep that up and I may have to run to the bathroom to take care of this problem you're causing."
"Sorry," he said, but this time did giggle. He reached back and pulled Zechs' arm across his body, laying his hand over the hand
now settled on his chest. "You feel nice. I-I like feeling you. I'm sorry I don't want to do more."
A kiss pressed against the nape of his neck. "Don't be sorry. I'll wait as long as you need."
"Thank you." He blinked his eyes, trying to stay awake. He only wanted to stay awake, to keep feeling Zechs' heat behind him.
It was a useless effort though. The cold medicine made him sleepy and the activities had worn him out.
For the first time since he had met Alex, he was looking forward to being intimate with someone. Only time would tell how long
it would be before he was ready though.
To Be Continued ...