torch, flambeau@strangeplaces.net
February 11, 2012

Disclaimer: this is probably not the best way to make friends in the workplace. Written for porn battle XIII. The request was Heero/Trowa, and I picked the prompts cake and rescue. Beta type things by Mary Crawford and mollyamory. Do not archive without permission.

a sudden sense of liberty

"But I don't like cake," Trowa said. It was a huge slice, leaking cherries and sliced strawberries and whipped cream and sprinkles in all directions, and with a candle burning lopsidedly. "And it's not my birthday."

He looked up to see his co-workers standing around his desk, faces frozen at various points between smiling and being appalled. Quatre was in the back, uniform jacket dangling precariously from two fingers as he tried to hide his laughter. Trowa considered strangling him, but that probably wouldn't make the situation better.

"Right," Heero said, phone to his ear as he came up to the desk; the other Preventers made room for him, because he was Heero, and also the size of a young mountain. "Understood."

It amused Trowa a great deal whenever someone insisted on lining them up, these days. Heero and Quatre had grown tall, Wufei and Duo were on the short side, and Trowa himself was an unremarkable average, reassuringly nondescript.

"I'm sure--" Trowa started, not sure at all, particularly not of where he was going with that sentence.

"I need Trowa for this," Heero interrupted, grabbing him by the arm and pulling when he didn't stand up fast enough. Trowa's sleeve snagged on a sheaf of notes, it unbalanced a few other things, and the paper plate with the cake fell to the floor. "Someone better clean that up."

As he was dragged out the door, Trowa distinctly heard Quatre lose his battle with laughter. "I hope he has to do the cleaning," he muttered. "What's the mission?"

"There's no mission." Heero looked up and down the hallway, dragged Trowa into the janitor's closet, and kissed him. Heero's kisses were always intense, and this one was fast and hot. "Unless getting that look off your face counts."

Trowa leaned back against Heero's arm and looked up. "They meant well. I was being too absent-minded."

"You don't like cake," Heero said. "But you're usually good with surprises." He smiled, which always made him look slightly wicked. "Thought I'd give you something you like instead."

"But it really isn't my birthday," Trowa said, wondering if someone had tampered with his file again, although the most likely suspect in that case was Heero himself.

Heero shrugged. "So?" He put a hand on Trowa's shoulder and pressed, and Trowa went to his knees easily, or maybe it was eagerly, now that he understood.

He waited, though, until Heero unfastened his uniform pants, until the head of Heero's cock brushed against his lips. Then he opened his mouth and slipped his tongue out, started to lick slowly and felt Heero go from mostly hard to completely hard under the gentle strokes. This was definitely much better than cake. Heero worked his hand into the corner of Trowa's mouth and pressed his jaw down, and used his other hand to push his cock between Trowa's lips.

Trowa moaned as Heero started to fuck his mouth, using shallow strokes at first, so Trowa could lick and suck and swallow around the thick shaft, tasting clean skin and slick precum. Then Heero's hand slid into his hair, rubbed at his scalp, cupped the back of his head to hold him steady, and Heero's cock went deeper, pushing against the back of his throat. Trowa tilted his head back the best he could and kept swallowing happily, his moans choked and half-gagging as Heero's cock pushed down his throat.

This was so good. Trowa closed his eyes, feeling a drop of saliva run down his chin. When Heero pulled back, he drew a deep breath, and then his mouth and throat were filled again, taken, claimed. His head felt thick and floaty; he had no real awareness of himself, there was just Heero's cock, Heero's hand holding him in place, the smell and the taste and the knowledge that a part of Heero was inside him.

"You're so good at this," Heero said, and Trowa wanted to laugh, because he wasn't doing anything. The sound he did manage to make drew a groan from Heero, made Heero's fingers tighten, pulling at Trowa's hair. Trowa knew the strength of that grip; he'd placed his life in that hand more than once, and he wasn't afraid.

Heero could go for a long time, but he knew how much Trowa could take, too. He pulled back to let Trowa breathe regularly; he didn't push in too deep or make his thrusts too hard. It was perfect, Trowa's mouth was full of cock and he was choking but he wasn't choking, and Heero's free hand traced Trowa's face, stroked the line of his jaw, brushed over his cheek.

Then Heero braced himself against the wall and made a low, guttural sound, and Trowa moaned with him, his body trembling in sympathy as Heero came. When Heero pulled out, Trowa swiped his tongue across the head of Heero's cock, catching the last few drops.

"I like the taste of you better," he rasped. Better than anything, really.

Heero lifted him to his feet so fast he nearly got dizzy. Trowa steadied himself with an arm around Heero's shoulders just as Heero dragged him close and kissed him, slowly this time. "So good," he said again.

Trowa laughed into Heero's mouth, feeling so light and free he could fly. "Thank you. Maybe this can be my birthday after all."

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