One Last Time
Wufei's breath exploded from his chest as his back came into forceful contact with the plastic paneled wall of the small cargo hold.
He tangled his fingers into the long brown hair of the boy attacking his collarbone and pulled sharply. Trowa lifted his head to ease the pain, his expression a mixture of irritation and bewilderment.
"What?" Trowa fumbled at the buckle of Wufei's belt.
"You're getting married in less than two hours."
"I know." With a twist and a tug, the tooth came free, and stiff, scaled leather zipped a complaint as Trowa pulled the narrow belt free in one smooth movement.
It fell to rest in a neat little coil on bare, corrugated metal. Wufei tried to stop the long fingers that clawed at the waist of his jeans, but Trowa was determined to conquer the two point barricade of button and zipper. When those were out of the way, Trowa turned his attention to dragging the snugly fitting trousers down past the angles of the other boy's hips.
"Barton!" cried Wufei, giving up at prying at Trowa's fingers and taking a fresh fistful of hair instead.
Trowa stood up and grabbed the boy's wrists, wrenching the one free from his skull. Pinning the Chinese boy's arms over his head, he braced one foot behind him and leveled an intense emerald gaze at Wufei. Staring directly into the other's midnight satin eyes, he said, in a voice that sounded far too rational, "Wufei. I'm getting married. I know I am. And if this is my last chance to be alone with another person, especially you, as a singl-" The remainder of Trowa's words were smothered by Wufei's tongue.
When he pulled away, the black-haired boy sucked in a ragged breath and licked the side of his mouth. "Alright," he said, letting his head fall back against the wall with a dull thump. "Shut up."
Trowa's lips twitched in a half smile. He kept Wufei's arms pinned where they were, but switched his grip to a single hand and skimmed the other down the side of Wufei's body. The smooth, white dress-shirt was soft as silk beneath his palm as he enjoyed the feel of lean muscles stretched taut over a subtle ridge of ribs. He left a trail of hasty kisses along the curve of the shorter boy's smooth jaw, and when his lips plundered the soft flesh that hid beneath, Trowa's thumb had lighted on the gentle swell of Wufei's hipbone. With a gutteral moan, he wormed his fingers down the loosened waist of Wufei's pants and rubbed the smooth skin with fevered, desperate caresses.
The Chinese boy writhed, reacting to the greedy mouth that sucked just below the wildly bobbing knot of his throat and the hand that was sliding around to cup his ass. He twisted his wrists, trying to free them from Trowa's iron grip, desiring to touch as he was being touched. His shifting brought his shoulder in contact with the protruding edge of a silver gift-wrapped box that didn't quite fit into its assigned crate like it was supposed to. A quick glance identified it to be his gift, and he was reminded that he was to be best man at a wedding on a colony that was approaching far too swiftly.
He felt a twinge of guilt. But Wufei realised, as the groom bit open the top button of his shirt and nudged it aside with his nose, there was something to be said about being your best friend's last fuck before he was roped into marriage.
And, Wufei decided as his throat moaned out Trowa's name, he'd be damned if it wouldn't be memorable.