Chapter 7: ...Ugh

Injustice!

Inhuman! Unbelievable! … And utterly annoying!

Wufei sat and fumed while the others jumped to help Duo and Trowa. Quatre went fussing over the tall acrobat and helping him up, while Heero deftly worked on the knots binding Duo's hands after having pulled off the blindfold from Duo's eyes. But Wufei sat and fumed. Fumed at Trowa for being stoic like a mannequin in a store window.

How could anyone not loose their head after being ridden like that and by non other than Duo Maxwell of all people. The way Duo moved and worked his tongue – it was like … sin – 'Forgive me Father. It's been two weeks since my last confession – ' kinda' sin.

But Trowa, he had just lain there throughout Heero's dare and now had little more than the faintest hint of a blush to prove that the whole scenario had took place at all.

Irritation and disbelief festered within Wufei. The building upwell blocked the surrounding ambience into a dull hum against his ears; the chirping of crickets, the buzzing of insects, Duo and Heero's playful banter, since Heero had decided mid work that he'd rather not untie Duo, liking him better as he was – all tied up and at his mercy, and Duo's exclaiming about this jungle cursing everyone's inner devil out. It blocked out Quatre's giggling as the rosy-cheeked blond wiped Trowa's chest free of stickiness with a wetted t-shirt.

Wufei couldn't believe his eyes. Barton sat leaned back on his arms and looking for all the world like he were casually staring at a wall, not the fierce little blond who obviously wanted to jump his bones – and Wufei knew from his earlier experience that that was –ehrm– quite nice.

But really, how could Trowa be so – so – freaking calm? How could he have not been moaning and writhing when Duo was atop of him? When Duo was kissing him? If it had been him in Barton's place he would have … Wufei promptly tried to not think about that. It was really best that his mind not wonder over what it would feel like to have Duo pressed against his body or to look down at him when he had his arms tied back like that and his hair up. He was angry right now and it was best to stick to emotions he was more familiar with.

"Hee-chan! Untie me now!" Duo demanded, bringing Wufei's attention back to the present.

Heero was smirking at their bound friend; Wufei had seen Heero smirk more often this one night than in all the time he'd ever known him. It was nice.

"Why should I?" Heero asked, clearly teasing.

Duo snarled in response; a cute snarl in Wufei's half-paying-attention opinion. It wasn't one of those psycho, powered by Shinigami, ones.

"So I can get revenge," Duo growled. "For what you did to my hair!"

Duo had finally noticed out of the corner of his eye that the thing occasionally nudging against his face was not hair but dangling pink flowers. Pink!

Violet would have gone much better with his eyes!

"Oh yeah?" Heero casually fingered one of the pink buds.

"Yeah! Just you wait till I get my hands on ya'" Duo threatened.

Heero's finger froze on the delicate flower and one of his eyebrows cocked thoughtfully.

"If that's the case –" he tackled the knots.

'I'd untie him too for that threat' Wufei thought numbly. Mmm, Duo's hand's …

Wufei gave himself a mental slap to the back of the head and struggled to regain hold of his slipping frustration. Yes, that's right. He was angry with Barton for being less expressive than a teakettle.

As if to emphasise that point, at that very moment Quatre was touching a hand to Trowa's chest in a subtle little gesture. Asking the taller boy where his dog tags were was an obvious ruse. He just wanted an excuse to get his hands on that broad chest. Trowa merely responded that they were on the other side of the lake where the group had first been and that he would go get them. He quickly rose and left the blond with a frustrated pout on his lips and brushed passed Heero and Duo.

That was it. That was the last straw. Wufei's control snapped like a brittle twig.

His senses of Justice and Honour – mingled with the whiskey, lets not forget the whiskey – brought Wufei to his feet in one fluid, if slightly weaving, motion and had him marching purposefully after Trowa's retreating back.

Trowa was trying to walk as casually as humanly possible. But really, he wasn't feeling so casual at the moment. Heck, he wasn't even sure what excuse he'd used to get away but he knew he needed some air before – well, Trowa wasn't really sure what they were doing here tonight. How far where they planning to go? A little fun was alright but at the rate they were going – at the rate he was going –

Trowa was fairly certain of how much alcohol he could take and still maintain his calm. He had to for the undercover missions. He knew to the milligram how much liquor he could consume before his mission-readiness was affected.

The problem was that said mark had been passed oh-some two hours ago. He walked briskly away from the firelight and the blond minx sitting beside it because he was fairly certain he was a breath away from jumping the little blond and pinning him to the mossy floor and ravishing him till –

A gurgling squelch alerted Trowa to the wide patch of mud he was just short of sinking into and he came to an abrupt halt. He recognized it as one Duo had encountered earlier.

"Barton!" an angry voice called from beyond his shoulder.

Trowa didn't get a chance to give any warning because in less than a second the owner of that voice was colliding into his back. And in less time than that, they were both hurtling downwards and into the awaiting mud.

The resulting splash and gushing squelch was – in all honesty, no exaggerating – spectacular.

Next to the fire, three heads quickly swivelled to the direction their comrades had disappeared. The noise that issued from that direction could only be the herald to something highly amusing. Quatre, Heero and Duo rushed to their feet.

Wufei fought to contain the disgusted ugh that wanted to escape him. This was not the first time he'd been lying in mud. Combat and escaping enemies could get quite dirty, in every sense of the word. But Wufei had never lain in mud while wearing nothing but boxer shorts. This was quite the eye opening experience –

– to be thankful for thick, thick combat pants. Or really, any pants at all.

The mud. It was – seeping through the material of his boxers and … getting places.

But no matter how uncomfortable Wufei was and how much it felt like he were being violated by nature, he turned to his mud-buddy with a victorious smirk. Surely this got a reaction from the tall robot.

Wufei's smirk fell.

Trowa was kneeling in the mud, coated up to the chest with the stuff, but nonchalantly wiping his forearms.

Wufei bared his teeth. His own body was dripping gooey mud and he found it absolutely disturbing but Trowa was cool as a cucumber about it. Wufe raised himself up regardless of the runny glob and lunged at the unsuspecting acrobat, intent on rubbing some sense into that expressionless face – or mud, whichever.

Trowa's eyes rounded as a snarling, mud covered, Wufei tackled him down.

"By all the colonies and earth sphere combined, Barton," Wufei was yelling at him. He'd affectively managed to straddle him and pin his arms above his head all in one lightning swift attack. "How can you be so – so – goddamned controlled!?"

Wufei blew hair out of his face with a huff and struggled to maintain his purchase over Barton and the slippery ground. The mud was continuously squelching and shifting.

Trowa wasn't really registering what Wufei said. Most of his attention was glued to the fact that the angry dragon kept slipping as mud gave way under his knees. As a result, his body kept perching lower and lower over Trowa's.

"Explain yourself, dammit!" Wufei demanded.

Trowa's mouth fell open in a small gasp.

Mud and mud-soaked boxer short.

Wufei hadn't noticed yet. He was busy ranting.

But mud, and mud-soaked boxer shorts were all that were coming between their bodies. All that were coming between hard, stiff –

"It's unhealthy, inhumane, and damn dishonourable to be this capable of containing ones emotions," Wufei rambled, his face flushed, loose strands of jet black hair feathering over his shoulders.

Trowa's heart started to hammer inside his chest. His breathing started to get strained and ragged. Wufei's hips kept pressing against his own. That body moved in fluid motions over him, lubricated by the slippery slick mud. Trowa was mortified and – and –

"No one can possibly be that unreceptive to the stimulations of the outside world," Wufei was raving, his mind on the image of Duo as he had worked his tongue over the muscled plains of Trowa's chest during the dare. That scene was perma-glued to the inside of his head and made him feel dizzy and hot. A burning need was developing deep in the pit of his stomach.

Trowa's lips were dry. Breathing was in harsh gasps. He tried to keep his hips still. Desperately tried. But they moved on their own against the ones writhing over top him. And he couldn't tear his bewildered eyes away from the agent ranting in a mad fury. Wufei was gorgeous in his passion.

Heero, Quatre and Duo arrived then to the most enticing sight in the history of man, illuminated by the golden glow of the fire. No one could spare a single brain molecule to what Wufei was going on about because all the molecules they had to spare were busy watching the mesmerizing motion of two pairs of narrow hips grinding in a slow rhythm. Who knew mud made cotton cling to skin so well, hugging every curve and dip, especially that faint v-dip at the base of Wufei's mud covered spine, and the pert globes of his backside.

Wufei was low on one elbow and one knee in the inch thick mud now and the rest of his body was flush against Trowa's and grinding. Wufei wasn't aware that his body had long ago chosen it's own course of action.

"Only those who –" his was short of breath. "Who acknowledge their –moan– emotions can –"

Thrumming pulses. Increasing rhythm.

"– can gain true – "

Trowa's hips were lifting off the muddied ground.

A bead of sweat ran the side of Wufei's temple.

On the carpet of grass, eyes were hooded and hands were creeping over abdomens of their own accord. The flames of the fire cast flickering red shadows at this distance. All that was missing was wild beating drums to complete the almost animalistic heat of the moment.

Duo gave in and fell to his knees. The mud jumped at his thighs.

Quatre quickly followed suit beside him.

"Can gain," Wufei continued. "–ngh– "

He bent his head, pressing his damp forehead to Trowa's shoulder. But he didn't stop.

Trowa was clenching and unclenching his captive hands within Wufei's death grip.

"Can gain true enlightenment," Wufei ground out. He lifted his head to glare at Trowa. Harsh breathing echoed all around them. Their hearts hammered like blacksmiths at hot iron.

Trowa couldn't take it anymore. He wrestled a wrist free and gripped Wufei's ass, pulling him closer – increasing the friction.

Duo groaned in appreciation, eyes straying to where strong fingers were digging into firm flesh. His gaze flicked between that and the two flushed faces with eyebrows knitted in concentration.

Where Quatre had kneeled he was inches away from mud-caked hips that mercilessly ground against each other. He couldn't help it. His eyes were riveted to strong, tight muscles, which were becoming tighter and tighter; Wufei's back, his thighs, Trowa's thighs and his arm around Wufei. Quatre scooted closer in the thick mud, his hands getting covered. He reached out and tracked mud over the dancing muscles.

Wufei was dimly aware of warms hands on his body. Hands that ran up and down and massaged him. They were adding to the sweet tension instead of relieving it. What he was really conscious to, though, was his desire to force an open response out of his captive. He wanted to shatter Trowa's mask. Maybe – maybe to prove to himself that they could be broken – those long worn masks.

He ground down forcefully and Trowa arched against him. Not Enough. Wufei snarled. He ground down harder in long, deep strokes.

Trowa threw his head to the side. He was so close.

Wufei snarled again. His free hand hooked viciously into the short hair at the nape of Trowa's long neck.

Meanwhile, Duo drew himself against Quatre's back. He didn't want to be left out of the fun. He slipped his thumbs into the front elastic of the blond's boxers and nibbled on Quatre's earlobe with his canines, as his own hips got busy in the dance. That elicited a moan from the blond. Duo grinned and pushed Quatre softly between Quatre's shoulder blades, forcing Quatre to bend forward over Wufei. Quatre understood the prompt and passed the message along to Wufei. He nipping lightly at Wufei's spine.

Stinging kisses. They nearly made him shiver. Wufei reflexively tightened his fist, pulling on the hair in his grip, and was rewarded with a gasp from beneath him. He pulled again, gently this time, and angled Trowa's head back to expose that long, slim neck.

The pressure was building. Wufei was loosing what little control he had. His body was begging for release. He wanted to rub faster into the firm pressure at his front and at his back. He felt lips at the back of his neck and several sets of hands on his body. He wanted to whimper and wanted to scream – he wanted to make Trowa whimper and scream with him.

His head was buried against Trowa's neck. Breathing in his scent. Close enough to task him. Wufei flicked his tongue at firm tendons. His heart was beating so hard - about to explode. He. Was. So. Close.

Without much of a though, Wufei clamped his teeth around the flesh at his lips – the crook of Trowa's neck – as he felt himself finally at the brink and over it. It was like water breaking a damn, fireworks going off, an atom bomb with a huge swirling mushroom cloud and all that other junk they'd show in old-time movies.

It was damn good.

Trowa arched and yelped at the bruising bite. His hips flexed and he held Wufei as close as the laws of physics would allow.

Their hips made sharp, irregular thrusts until finally Wufei released Trowa's tender neck and relaxed against him. His eyes fluttered shut, dark lashes resting against caramel cheeks, but almost immediately blinked open again.

Quatre was making such devastatingly appealing noises behind him. And beyond his pale shoulder, Shinigami grinned with eyes that reflected the burning fire a couple of feet away. Duo placed his chin on Quatre's shoulder, bit his lip devilishly and brought both his hands over the tented front of Quatre's boxers. The blond purred at the touch.

Wufei and Trowa stared entranced.

Smirking, Duo allowed the panting blond to thrust against his hands. Quatre's own hands were over his head and fisted in Duo's thick chestnut hair.

Trowa swallowed thickly at the site of Quatre's lithe form arched.

Quatre circled and thrust his hips, like a belly dancer to an Arabian rhythm, until he threw his head back onto Duo's shoulder and moaned.

The blond shuddered and finally satiated, eased his hands from Duo's hair. With his aid, Quatre lowered himself across Trowa's side – Wufei was at Trowa's other side.

"What about you?" Quatre murmured at Duo, blinking his eyes tiredly.

Duo winked in response, "Later."

"Wait," Wufei realised with a start, "What about Yuy?"

"Later," Heero's monotone answered from beside them. Despite the usual tone, his very Duo-Maxwell like smile was full of promise – on top of being a bit strained. Duo's smile was a bit strained too but the reasons were quite clearly tenting their shorts.

"I think it's time we headed back to the bunker," Duo leered. He rose and extended a hand, which Trowa took.

"After you guys clean up," Heero smirked at them. Helping Quatre up in the same manner.

Wufei's senses, which had been muddled until now, came back to him in full force. Mud! Everywhere!

He couldn't help the disgusted ugh as he looked down at himself and resisted squirming.

He glared a million daggers at Barton, when the chuckling acrobat extended a hand to help him up.

"I still won," Wufei groused.

"Just the battle, Wufei," Trowa retorted, his one visible eye a crescent of mirth.

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