Pairing/s: 1x5, 2x5, 4x5, 13x6x5
For: mulanreflection, nova_bright, evocates, xdnangel
A/N: I did say these would be drabbles. For some weird reason, they all turned out extremely smutty, which means that the lj-cuts are going to read like one big orgy if you don't take a break in between drabbles. To maximize reading experience, do shove chair back, close eyes, and massage temples for two minutes approximately before heading on to the next section. Thanks for throwing in requests, and I hope you all enjoy. ^_____^ Lastly, these are Christmas gifts, not Christmas-themed. As will be quite obvious once you start reading, but I thought I should tag a disclaimer on first.
The sun was setting by now but the heat lingered in the dryness of the desert, stiflingly humid, a vivid red-orange glow settling over the hills and valleys of sand dunes. A dusty green jeep had been shoved across the flat beaten track onto the road shoulder.
All was quiet, heavy, still.
The wrench had been lost sometime in the past fifteen minutes; dropped outside, swallowed by quicksand, Wufei didn't really care. The clutch that had been digging painfully into his back ten minutes ago could have been a feather for all he remembered its existence. He closed his eyes, tried not to writhe, bit down stubbornly on the whimpers and moans, and clutched white-fingered at the dashboard.
And Quatre watched, blue eyes dark and intense, gaze following the drop of perspiration as it tracked down Wufei's dark skin, sliding along the curve of his collarbone, trailing down wet and glistening on the dusty brown chest. He pulled Wufei's legs wider apart, spreading the other man shamelessly open, working his throat over the hot, hard, swollen head, feeling Wufei tremble beneath him. Dragging his tongue along the veined underside, he moaned softly around Wufei's cock, one hand already dropping to touch himself, to stroke. He thrust jerkily into his fist, let Wufei slide out of his mouth wetly and stickily, and then grazed his lips along the dripping slit, his other hand curving roughly around Wufei's hips to pull him closer, burying his face into the tangy musk of Wufei's buttocks.
Wufei gasped, a low, strangled groan of surrender, and Quatre came, hard, onto his own fingers.
He could barely keep his eyes open, he didn't want to look anymore, he was so painfully hard—
“I like what I see,” Zechs murmured, and Wufei saw him through the mirror, leaning over Treize's shoulder to tug Wufei's left knee further up and back over Treize's. Treize rumbled a soft groan of something that sounded vaguely like agreement, and then, agonizingly slowly, pulled the blueberry from Wufei's tight dark pucker. It emerged with a soft, squelching pop, and Wufei couldn't stifle the whimper as Zechs' fingers replaced it, long, callused, and slick with cream, thrusting sure and quick and shallow into him.
He dragged his eyelids open again, saw to his shame that his cheeks had been stained red, and then sank involuntarily harder onto Zechs' fingers when Treize turned his head to kiss the blond man, deep, noisy, sucking on Zechs' lips, tongue, all the while trailing the blueberry tantalizing up and down Wufei's dripping cock.
“God—” Treize murmured when Zechs guided his hand to join his. Three fingers, two of Zechs', one his own, slid into a hot, tight haven, and then Wufei was moaning and shaking and turning his head to sink his teeth, hard, into Treize's neck, and Treize watched it all in the mirror, beginning to tremble, himself. Oh, God.
Duo flicked the twig of mistletoe over a stiff, pebbled nipple, and was rewarded with Wufei's eyes widening, a muffled curse escaping the gag. With his other hand loosely holding a chocolate angel between two fingers, he drew lazy circles on Wufei's hot skin. The sweet candy melted fast, slippery and deliciously gooey. Bending his head, he swirled his tongue over his handiwork with an appreciative sound.
Wufei's struggles against the festive red and green bonds were getting decidedly weaker.
Dragging the sprig down across a flat, heaving abdomen, ghosting teasingly over Wufei's straining, heated flesh to dance lightly down the crack, he followed with his tongue, flicking, pushing, slow, hot drags across a clenching, dark, salty pucker. Before he closed his eyes, though, reveling in Wufei's muffled half-scream, he spared a glance at the video-camera, noting with satisfaction the steady red light that indicated recording as planned.
This tape was going to be one for the keeps.
The first and the last time, he'd taken Wufei by force, sheer brute strength against Wufei's fists and feet and angry shouts that had eventually smoldered and burned into helpless, painful scrapes on Heero's back and hips, and Wufei's shameful, wanton whimpers that filled the blind silence of the cold, empty office. There was blood on Heero's thighs and livid bruises on Wufei's arms and buttocks by the time he'd finished. There was also the devastated, disbelieving rage, and a despairing lust in Wufei's eyes that told Heero there was no going back. He'd ruined him.
He zipped up and left without a word.
The next day, he stayed just long enough to confirm that Wufei's wedding to Sally had been canceled. Then he grabbed the bag he'd packed the night before, and headed for his shuttle.