by torch, flambeau@strangeplaces.net
July 2002

Disclaimer: all fiction, all the time, starring someone else's pretty boys. Many, many thanks to elynross. Don't archive this story without permission.

Sunsets and beaches

They took turns with the spoon, elbowing each other now and then for possession. Chocolate ice cream with chocolate chunks, without sand, went well with a beach, and the sound of waves, too. Quatre fished out his own soda can from the bag and popped it open. Grape. Still the wrong kind, the one with the little purple bug logo. He was starting to like it.

"We should get off our asses," Duo said, scraping up the last ice cream.

"We just got here." Quatre leaned back against the tree and drank with his eyes closed. A little grape soda ran down his chin.

"No. Yeah. I mean, with the missions and stuff. We've been taking it way too easy." Dropping the spoon, Duo licked his fingers. "Sitting around, doing too little, not having sex, all that stuff. Seriously. We should get to work."

"I think you may be right." Quatre shifted. Despite all the ice cream and the cold soda, he felt a warm glow deep inside. "It's time."

"We'll kick their asses all the way to the moon."

"If you say so." Quatre chuckled. He stretched his legs out and tugged at Duo's shoulder until Duo slumped back against him, head resting on Quatre's shoulder. Duo's hair smelled of sunshine and chocolate. "I think your braid got into the ice cream."

Duo twisted his neck to look up at Quatre. "Well, your chin got into the soda." He swiped his tongue along the edge of Quatre's jaw. Quatre made a face, and Duo laughed. "You're really picky about where you get licked, aren't you."

"Very," Quatre agreed. He rubbed his chin against Duo's shoulder and slid his hands in under Duo's shirt. His fingers were cool from the soda can, and the smooth skin on Duo's stomach fluttered when he ran fingertips and then nails over it. "And I'm picky about where I don't have sex, too."

"Spoiled," Duo muttered, and then his breath hitched. "Oh, no. You're not gonna put those cold fingers on my—"

Quatre grinned and worked his right hand carefully in beneath the waistband of Duo's still-fastened pants. He rocked his palm back and forth, and Duo spread his legs, adding even more pressure from straining fabric. The uneven rhythm of the waves sliding up on the sand matched with the short, slow roll of Quatre's wrist. He breathed on Duo's ear.

"Look at the sea," he said. "It's as smooth as liquid glass." He stroked lightly with his left hand over Duo's nipples; he knew his fingertips were both cold and callused, but Duo wriggled into the touch, not away from it. "The color of your eyes, right there."

Duo's breath hitched again, a little closer to laughter. "Yeah, I'm really thinking about the color of my eyes right... now...." His voice trailed off into a low hum, and he tensed against Quatre, arching up, digging his hands into the sand on either side of Quatre's hips and rolling his head on Quatre's shoulder. Quatre smiled and began to nibble on Duo's earlobe.

The sun on the sea was like something out of a dream, brighter than anything he had imagined before coming to earth. Quatre pressed closer to Duo's back and twisted his wrist again and again. It was a little painful when Duo arched up and hit the back of his head against Quatre's collarbone, but it was still good.

"Have to do laundry again," Quatre said, and pulled his hand out of Duo's pants.

"And whose fault is that?" Duo rubbed at his nose with the heel of his hand. He rolled his shoulders, stretched, and adjusted his pants. "Mmm. Euw."

"Now who's picky," Quatre murmured, and Duo twisted around and slid down between Quatre's legs, propping himself on one elbow planted next to Quatre's hip. He unbuttoned Quatre's pants and pushed his underwear down and started to lick, flat efficient strokes, the same wavecrash pace. Quatre hummed a little to himself. He felt a tremble start behind his half-closed eyelids, colors beginning to swirl and merge.

He rested a hand on Duo's shoulder, thumb lining up with the collarbone. There was still a faint aftertaste of chocolate in his mouth. The tree was firm behind his back, the sand sunwarm even through the cloth of his pants, and Duo's mouth was soft. He wrapped himself in the sensations, matching them up like pieces of a patchwork quilt. Holding himself perfectly still, he breathed, and felt.

All the colors turned to gold at the end, spattering all over his eyes like drops shaken from a giant paintbrush. Quatre smiled breathlessly and moved his thumb so that he could feel Duo swallow.

Duo tucked and buttoned and tidied, fingers a little too practised, and Quatre ran his fingers through Duo's fringe and made him look up, and Duo nodded slowly. He sat up and said, "So from now on, we'd better make it all work, all the time."

Quatre leaned back. "All work?"

"Well." Duo smiled a little. His eyes were full of new ideas. "You know what I mean. Besides, there's." He looked down at his hands. "Or maybe you don't know what I mean."

Quatre picked the spoon out of the sand and looked at it. "No, you're right," he said, and dropped the dirty spoon in the empty ice cream container. "Mostly work, all the time. Sitting around and watching the sunset won't make anything better for the colonies."

He did like sunsets, though. Sunsets and beaches, and grape soda.

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