TO BE A KING: EPILOGUE

Dentelle_noir

3x4. NC-17.

Summery: After The Barton tribe was exiled from their home, forced to live in the bowels of the jungle by the usurping Winner Tribe, the set out to get their revenge. The successor of their tribe grew strong and hard, and he was sent into the heart of the Winner lands to take back their homeland. But instead, he learned just how wrong they had been living.

Now, after the war, the new King has to pick up the pieces and teach his people how to live like a civilized tribe. But will he be able to learn from the mistakes of his people fast enough to keep the man that he loves at his side?

AN: Dedicated to twitterpater who begged and begged and begged for months for this.

To Be King: Epilogue

They were home, at least. To whatever kind of home there was. Nothing was the same as it was before.

The Fire around the Barton keep was lit again as the remainder of the wounded tribe made it back to their lands. A lot had happened to bring them there... Trowa's mother had been lost in the battle... Many of his sisters were dead... Trowa's brothers had survived, but Alex's arm was badly wounded. He may never be able to use it again, and now? Now Trowa was King.

He had been brought up to be the King, but he had always assumed that his mother would wield the power and he would just, well, sit on the throne when he wasn't hunting or taking care of the people. But it was becoming quite clear to him that it could not be like that. He was needed. He was looked up to.

He wanted to take Quatre to his hut and never leave again, but his people needed Quatre more. The beautiful prince of the Winner tribe was a talented healer, and after the fight he had followed Trowa home, healing his people on the way, and working on the lesser injuries now. Trowa couldn't take him away... plus, his people were hurt, dismayed, hungry, crestfallen, and they were all looking to him to take the lead and bring them into a new era. The pressure was getting to him.

His first act as King was to bury his mother, and then planning took up the rest of his evening. He and a few of the uninjured took a forbidden run into Winner lands to raid the trees and steal some food. He would have to go out on a hunt soon to bring home meat. He was one of the few able bodied warriors still standing. But the people would not like their king leaving. It was the only way, though. Things were not looking bright. And there were expectations on him now.

He wasn't even allowed to sleep in his own damn hut. Accusing eyes had followed him in... He was the King now. If things were to be the same, he was supposed to make his home in the Chief's house; his mother's hut...

Walking in there had been a scary feeling. Nothing was changed, yet he knew that she was gone. And would not be coming back. She was a villain in many people's eyes, but... She had been his mother. He had respect for her that defied explanation. She had never been warm, or particularly loving, but she had shaped him into the man he had become. He should be thankful to her.

He pulled out her bedding and began to put some of her special things inside it. He would tied it up and hide it somewhere until he could deal with the heartache of putting them away. There were so many things, though... Her hair brush, her favourite bone earrings, her many bangles and things. He considered giving some of her jewellery to Quatre, but he just couldn't bear the thought of anyone else wearing them right now. He began to throw more into the pile. Her favourite cooking pot. Her extra shoes. Her vase. The broom. The table ought to go too, so that he's stop thinking of her sitting there eating breakfast in the morning as she told him what his training for that day would entail!

Quatre walked in then, finding him nearly ransacking the house, his face frightening cold but his eyes far away and pained.

He grabbed the other end of the table and held it there, "Taking it away will not make the memory go away," he said kindly, not allowing Trowa to go overboard with this. He knew instinctively that Trowa was very, very upset, even though the Barton King had no idea how to really show it. "It's alright to grieve..."

Trowa let go of the table, turning away from him, trying not to let his pain show. "No, it's not alright. I am King now. I have responsibilities to my people now."

Quatre sighed, smiling a little, and then he was behind Trowa, wrapping his arms around Trowa's waist and putting his head on the taller warrior's shoulder, "Yes, and you have fulfilled those responsibilities enough for tonight. It's time for you to sleep. You are just Trowa now." Quatre whispered into his ear, "...My Trowa?"

Trowa turned at that, smiling warmly, and then he leaned forward, wanting to taste their first kiss. In the throes of war, and the hunt, they had never been able to show each other their passion. He wanted to rectify that now.

Quatre pushed forward first, moving to press his lips against Trowa's softly- gentle, almost shy- but then slowly he deepened the kiss.

Trowa turned around then to wrap his arms around Quatre's middle, feeling the flesh there of the Winner Healer, and pulling him closer to himself. Quatre responded hotly, pressing against Trowa until there was no room between their hearts, and then he kissed him again with more passion behind it. Slowly, Trowa began to forget about being in his mother's hut, and the responsibilities of being King, or about the people outside depending on him. He finally got his deepest, most secret dream. He had been wanting a kiss from Quatre since they had met as children. He had wanted to make him smile. To make him laugh. To make him sigh and moan... To make him his.

Trowa moved a few steps, and then gracefully kneeled down, bringing Quatre with him. The bed was stripped and was nothing more than a pile of straw and twigs, and Trowa would not try to take him on that, so he laid the blonde out on the hut floor. Quatre wasn't protesting though, just sliding his arms up and around Trowa's shoulders to press him close for a hungry kiss and began to roll his hips up against his soon-to-be-lover and let Trowa take control.

Trowa kissed back harder now, slowly sliding a leg between Quatre's legs and urging them open. Quatre complied at first, giving Trowa entrance, but then he pulled back from their kiss a little, looking nervous, "Have you done this before, Trowa?"

What, did his lover think he was some clueless child? He was the King of the Barton Tribe now! He didn't need sex tips. "It's not that hard to figure out that bedding a man will need a little more work, but I think I can figure it out. Men aren't that different from women, and I've got them figured out. I've sure bedded enough of them."

Quatre lifted a brow, a little frown starting to mar his forehead, "Oh really?"

Trowa nodded, sliding his lips down Quatre's neck, sucking and biting and kissing, "I've had many."

"How many." Quatre demanded, his gentle humming voice turning angry and cold.

"...Excuse me?" What in god's name was he all worked up about?

"How many women have you bedded?!" Quatre repeated again, pulling his arms away from Trowa's neck now and pushing Trowa off of him, as if sensing already that he wasn't going to like this answer at all.

Trowa rolled his eyes, "What's it matter? It's just sex."

Oh that was the WRONG answer. Quatre moved out from underneath him like quicksilver, looking angry and slightly hurt. "How many?!"

Trowa sat on his haunches, glaring. How dare he grill him for information as if he were some child! Was it not clear to him? "There are only three males in this tribe, Quatre! You yourself treated many of our children! Figure it out!"

Quatre looked slightly horror struck, "Do you have any children??!"

"Yes, of course. What is the big deal?"

Quatre stood, face turning red in embarrassment and fury, and he fixed his hair, "Oh, there IS a big deal! How dare you! Do you have any concept of living like civilized people? I thought you had the decency to make an honest woman out of your lovers! But apparently I was wrong. Were you ever serious about taking any of them as your wife?"

"Wife?!" Trowa scoffed, standing now too, his pride swelling and his own temper beginning to flare, "I don't need a wife. I don't want a wife! I am a King! I don't need a wife or anyone else telling me what I can and can't do!"

That was also a very bad answer, and Quatre glared hotly, "What about me, Trowa?"

Trowa glared and his mouth worked before his brain got there, "What about you?"

Quatre took a step forward angrily, "What were you planning to do with me after you had me? Were you going to expect me to sit aside as you took others in your bed?"

Trowa was FURIOUS! "A good King sacrifices for his people. I have responsi-"

~SLAP~

Quatre stood there, completely offended and red with fury, hand still outstretched from where he'd struck him. "How. Dare. You! Damn you and your pride! I should have known better than to fall in love with a Barton!" he hissed, turning on his heel and stomping out of the hut.

Naturally all eyes turned to watch him. Every single person around the fire watched him. He had previously looked on all of them as potential friends. Now? He wondered how many of them had been in Trowa's bed before. Which of the children sleeping in their mother's laps were Trowa's. How long would Trowa have slept with Quatre until he discarded him like all his previous lovers?

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. There were only three men in the tribe. Trowa, Alex, and Muller. There were clearly about a dozen small children running around. He didn't see Alex or Muller with wives either. He shouldn't be so upset... but, he was. He had hoped, when the strong, tall warrior from the mysterious other tribe had just shown up again, and was wearing Quatre's bracelet still... He thought Trowa was in love with him. Well, it was silly wasn't it? Too terribly romantic to be realistic. Things didn't work like that in the Jungle.

He had been totally infatuated. Who wouldn't be? He was obviously just fooling himself.

Arms walked over to him, nudging his arm and then making room for her large head on Quatre's lap, laying down beside him for comfort. She purred a little, and licked at his hand when Quatre turned to pet the Panther. Still, though, Trowa did not emerge from the hut to try and smooth things over. Just a few words from the man he loved, just a few words of devotion, even a lie saying that Trowa hadn't loved the others, or a whispered promise would have been enough to satisfy him. But Trowa had given him nothing. Nothing to show that Quatre's love was returned. In the Winner keep, Trowa had been sweet to him, waiting on him hand and foot and following him around in his quiet way that showed Quatre that he cared. But it was becoming clear to him now that Trowa had no intention of courting him properly. He probably didn't even know what it meant to be devoted to only one!

Catherine came over to Quatre, sitting beside him and frowning, "What's wrong, Quatre?"

She was a very nice woman, and she treated Quatre well. She was 'too kind' the people of the tribe would say, pointing at how thin she was from giving up her small portions of meat. But she was well dressed. She had said to Quatre during their walk back that her clothes had been gifts from Trowa. Quatre had thought it sweet at the time- that Trowa would take care of the weaker tribe members- but now? Things weren't the same now!

Quatre looked at her, trying not to let jealous tears spill, and he glared, "Did you bed Trowa, too? Is that why he was so nice to you?" he accused hotly. "I bet you were his favourite before me."

Understanding dawned in her eyes, and she wrapped her arms around Quatre's shoulder, hugging him tightly. She whispered into his ear, "No, darling. I never did. I wouldn't. Trowa is like my brother. Please give him a chance. He doesn't know any better. Things here are different. No one even remembers what it was like to live as a civilized tribe."

Quatre wiped at his eyes viciously, trying not to show how affected he was. Catherine continued on, "That is why it's so important that you teach him! Teach us. Help us."

At that moment, Trowa emerged from the hut. Quatre took a breath, waiting to see what Trowa had for him now... When instead of any sort of apology, Trowa just walked into his old hut. He stripped the bedding and grabbed some of his things, then walked them back into his mother's hut.

A few minutes later, he made the walk back to his old hut to grab more.

Suddenly, one of the girls from the tribe-Yashra, Silvia's sister- stood, walking over to his old hut and walked in too, even hiking her skirt a little before she did. Right in front of Quatre! And no one even said anything?

Jealousy flared in his heart as the seconds ticked by and she did not walk back out. Slowly it began to eat at him from the inside out. Trowa had wanted Quatre, he had been able to feel how much... Was Yashra in there right now taking care of that for him? Did he really not have any sort of respect for love? Or understand the sanctity of giving over one's body?

Obviously not.

Quatre pushed away from Catherine. He had left his healing supplies and things in her hut, and he retrieved them now. He would not stay for this humiliation a moment more. He was leaving. Now.

He picked up a walking staff and moved towards the barren fields surrounding the Barton keep-the sky was black and the moon barely shone enough to show the way. The animals howled, but he was too angry to care. He knew how to hide. And he knew how to camp. He could make fire. He was not going to spend one more minute with those disgusting people!

Catherine tried to stop him, but he couldn't be reasoned with.

He took to the tall grasses and moved, planning to get as far as the protection of the trees before setting up camp. He could be back home -his home!- in the Winner lands by tomorrow.

Trowa emerged from his old hut with his hands laden with things, and Yashra behind him was worse off. She was carrying the heavy cooking pans and the clothes and jewellery that Trowa had collected. He planned to get set up in the house, and then... perhaps... Once the blonde calmed down... He could persuade Quatre to come to his bed. He had even managed to rummage up some pretty jewellery to give Quatre as a gift. Catherine used to tell him stories about courting in the old days, and, he remembered something about giving people gifts. Maybe that would work? He felt pretty out of his element, but asking for dating advice from his sister didn't really sound like something a King would do.

But when he emerged it was just to see the furious face of Catherine waiting for him, "You'd better go GET him, Trowa!" She yelled, "He's a sitting duck out there! Thankfully Arms followed him for some protection! He's going to be eaten alive out there alone in the Jungle!"

Trowa's eyes flew around the camp, looking quickly for any signs of Quatre. He was not there. The only faces looking back at him were his Tribe... expecting him to have all the answers and frowning as they saw Trowa beginning to look worried. A worried King was bad for them... And a King being scolded by the healer whom no one particularly liked? That was even worse. Talk was beginning to spread.

Yashra passed by Catherine with a scowl and flipping her hair, "Good riddance to him anyway. We don't need another healer. You're useless enough. He was weaker than YOU, Catherine, and that's saying something. You're lucky that Trowa seems to favour you, or we'd have killed you by now." She went into the King's hut and put down the things she had helped him carry.

Trowa glared after Yashra, but as the weight of her words sunk in, he turned his glare at Catherine, "Don't speak to me like that! You are not favoured by the King. A proper King must favour no one."

Catherine's gaze turned from furious to icy, "You may be King, Trowa Barton, but until you start acting like one, I won't listen to one word. I can see why Quatre left you, if you treated him the way you're treating me!"

Trowa felt his temper flare, but his stomach sunk a little. Left him? Quatre... Quatre left him. No one had ever really left him before, or turned him down. It...hurt.

But Catherine was not done laying into him. She was furious, and let him have it. As much as Trowa had said he didn't favour her, she knew that he wouldn't listen to anyone but her and his own Mother. She had been the only one who was kind to him growing up, and she knew exactly what was going through Trowa's head right now, "That's right. He left you. And I don't blame him for it. I would too if I were him. You're being just like your mother! I thought you were different!"

Those words were worse than the slap that Quatre had delivered. They stung him right to the core. He had often complained about the unfairness, the callous attitude, and the haughty indifference of his mother. He thought that he would be better. A good king did not sacrifice his people, he sacrificed ~for~ his people. He would care about his tribe- not just the whole tribe, but care about each of them individually. And he had already failed in doing that by being cold to the one person who mattered most to him. He was cold to Quatre...

And now the boy was out in the middle of the night with only Trowa's panther for protection. Because Trowa hadn't been able to see past his own attitude and over-sized ego to see how much his callous words had hurt Quatre.

"I have to go after him." He said quietly, moving back into his old hut to grab his arrows and a knife. He knew the tribe wouldn't like him leaving, but who cared. He was sick and tired of letting other people tell him what to do. He had never allowed it before, why should he start now that he was king?

"Damn right!" Catherine growled, stomping her feet to accentuate her point.

The people from the Tribe looked mildly horrified when they saw their King emerge from his hut with his hunting things. He also had Yashra by the ear and pushed her away. She had been practically making herself into his bed while Trowa had been arguing, and it just... Disgusted him. Just like Quatre had said. The words had taken time to really sink in, but they had now and were burning themselves onto his heart and mind. Did they have any decency? Any conception of how to live like a civilized tribe? What kind of legacy was this to leave to the next generation?

Trowa glared at Yashra, and her sister, and his people, "We are BETTER than this!" he growled, "We don't have to live like this anymore! Starving and hating and fighting each other! It will get us nowhere. We can be better than this! There are many tribes out there in the Jungle. We can find husbands- REAL husbands- for anyone who wants one. We can hunt for food enough for everyone to have their fill! We can trade, and work. We don't have to live here, in the worst part of the Jungle, scavenging and scratching for everything. No MORE!"

Having said his peace, Trowa turned on his feet towards the Jungle and took off at a run. Quatre was crap at covering his trail. He couldn't hunt if his life depended on it. Tracking him was child's play, and with Trowa's speed and strength, he found his camp quickly.

Quatre had begun to build a little fire under the trees when Arms had joined him. He was shocked at first, but thankful to have her there. He wrapped his arms around the panther's neck and buried his face in it to muffle his emotions. He was in the jungle alone, at night, out of his own stubbornness, and if something ate him for his stupidity he deserved it. He had been an idiot to trust Trowa, and an even bigger idiot to launch out into the Jungle by himself.

"Please don't cry..." a voice said softly from the jungle brush.

Quatre startled, looking up to find him. "I...didn't hear you home here." He began to wipe his tears away so that Trowa wouldn't see his weakness. Apparently weakness of any sort was not tolerated in the Barton tribe. He would hate to lose face in front of Trowa again tonight. He may have been angry at the warrior, but that didn't mean that somewhere, deep in his heart, he didn't still care about what he thought of him.

Trowa smiled wryly, walking into the camp, "I walk silently. I'm a very good hunter, and an excellent warrior... But I'm not a very good King."

Petting Arms softly, Quatre didn't exactly jump in to reassure him. He was still angry, and jealous, and not feeling terribly forgiving right now. He wondered if Trowa had stopped to satisfy Yashra before coming after him.

Trowa moved a little closer to Quatre, "I wanted to be a good King, but... I don't really know how. I angered the only people that I cared about. Catherine let me have it, you left me... and even my pet didn't stick around! But the way I was behaving, I don't blame them."

A small smile was finding its way to Quatre's mouth. Trowa had a sarcastic sense of humour. "If that's supposed to be an apology, it's a bad one." Quatre threw at him.

Trowa knelt down a little behind Quatre then, sliding his arms around Quatre's middle then putting his head against Quatre's shoulder, just like Quatre had done to him earlier. "I don't really know how to apologize. I've never really had to do it before. My tribe... we don't know how to live."

Quatre didn't try to shrug him off... He enjoyed Trowa's touches too much. But he was still angry, "What? Yashra didn't satisfy you, so now you've come for a second round with me?"

He deserved that. He knew he did. Especially after what he had said to Quatre.

That didn't mean that his words didn't hurt. Trowa sighed, trying to hold him tighter, "I never touched Yashra. She asked if I needed help, and I put her to work moving my things. When she started getting too comfortable in my bed, I threw her out by the ear."

Quatre stopped fidgeting, but that didn't mean that Trowa was forgiven.

"I lost my temper with the tribe." Trowa said conversationally, getting comfortable now, sitting down behind Quatre and trying to lean him up against his chest, "I told them that we didn't have to live like that. Things are different than how they were before. ...There are lots of tribes all around us, and they can have real husbands of their own if they wanted them."

Quatre sighed, and he began to lean back into Trowa's chest. After a second Quatre spoke clear and pointedly, "'Quatre. I'm sorry. I was stubborn and cold, and mean to you.'"

Trowa frowned, rather confused at the reply, "huh?"

Quatre laughed a little then, that tinkling merry little sound that Trowa remembered so well. "You said you didn't know how to apologize. I'm trying to help you. Now, repeat after me: 'Quatre. I'm sorry. I was stubborn and cold. And was behaving like an egotistical jerk.' You try."

"Quatre. I'm sorry. I was stubborn and cold. And I was behaving like an egotistical jerk." He parroted, "How's that?"

"Nowhere near good enough. That's what you do to open up so you can grovel properly." Quatre informed him with a snarky little grin.

Trowa smiled a little, and put a kiss to Quatre's shoulders, using his hands to slide down his arms.

"Nope. More grovelling needed before you get to do that." Quatre said, shrugging his hands away.

"I don't know how to grovel, then" Trowa admitted with a defeated sigh. He was trying, he really was, but Quatre operated by a whole different set of rules that no one had ever taught Trowa about. People in the Barton tribe didn't give apologies often, and they never involved grovelling or begging or anything.

Quatre sighed, beginning to take pity on his emotionally stunted lover. "Try: 'Quatre. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't know what I would do without you. Please forgive me.'" He supplied him with the words.

Trowa kissed the top of Quatre's head, running his hands over Quatre's arms again. He knew that Quatre had said that it was too early for that, but he wasn't good with words. His touches were calming Quatre, so he continued with it.

"Quatre... You- You really are the best thing that's ever happened to me. Without you, I... I don't know what I would do, but I wouldn't be the person I am today without you. Whenever I did something bad, I... I would think that you would not be happy. You... You taught me that killing made people sad; that it was wrong. I didn't feel like that before I met you."

Suddenly Quatre turned in his lap, looking up at Trowa with slight tears in his eyes. Trowa thought that perhaps would be a good time to finish what Quatre had told him to say... "Please forgive me?"

Quatre launched himself into Trowa's arms, burying his face in Trowa's shoulder, hugging him tightly. Then Trowa felt little kisses against his shoulder, then up his neck.

He hoped he was forgiven now. He thought he just might be...especially as Quatre's kisses came higher, and then he pressed a soft, affectionate kiss to Trowa's lips.

Trowa kissed back slowly, trying to imitate the way Quatre kissed him, and that seemed to make Quatre smile and kiss Trowa hotter and deeper. Finally! Trowa had finally managed to please him.

Quatre pulled away, smiling a little, blushing gently.

Trowa went to his satchel, and pulled out a little golden bracelet that he had in his hut. He showed it to Quatre and put it in his hand, "I don't know much about courting like they do in your tribe, but, I thought that a gift might help my chances. This one is something that I bought. I... I didn't want to give you something of my mother's. That's why I went back to my hut. I thought I could make the bed up for you, and clean up the mess I made... give you a gift... and maybe you would forgive me. I hadn't really expected you to leave in the middle of the night to go wandering into the Jungle by yourself."

"I had Arms," Quatre retorted with a hint of wounded pride.

Trowa's lips began to pull up into a smirk, "Catherine told me Arms followed you. You didn't bring her with you. Don't try to lie to me." He teased, running his hands down Quatre's sides. That made the blonde healer laugh at least, and he leaned back against Trowa's chest comfortably, getting closer to the fire. "This is nice... Finally I have you to myself. You're a very hard man to get alone."

Trowa found his hands sliding down Quatre's body a bit more, "Am I? I don't try to be... Not for you anyway."

This time, Trowa didn't need Quatre to supply the words. He thought he knew what Quatre wanted to hear. "I want to be with you, Quatre. Not the others from the tribe. They can find their own husbands from now on.... I will be yours... If you want me, that is."

Quatre's gaze slid up to Trowa's face, trying to judge his sincerity. But Trowa had meant every word. He hadn't just said that so Quatre would favour him again, he said it because he had meant it. He wanted a real relationship. He wanted someone to depend on, and who could depend on him. "I want to make you..." Trowa tried to remember how Quatre had said it earlier, "An 'honest man'."

Quatre blushed hotly, but he looked very pleased anyway. He threw his arms around Trowa's neck, and then he began to kiss him again, slow at first but gaining hunger. Then, Quatre began to press himself closer to Trowa and his happy kiss seemed to slowly turn more passionate. This time there didn't seem to be the hesitation as before.

It helped that Trowa couldn't take his eyes off of Quatre. But this feeling was something different. He didn't hunger for his own pleasure; his head was filled with the sounds of Quatre's little gasps and hums, the feeling of Quatre's body slowly pressing closer to him, and all Trowa could think about was making Quatre moan harder.

And Quatre did, slowly encouraging Trowa on with little groans of delight, even as Trowa took the lead and began to press the blonde Winner down towards the ground. It was so clear to Trowa now the difference between this and their attempted coupling earlier. Trowa hungered for his lips, and for Quatre's touch, and to hear him gasp and moan. This time, when Trowa slid his leg between Quatre's to open them, he surrendered eagerly. Soon, Quatre's legs were finding their way around Trowa's hips to pull him in closer and turn up the heat between them.

Trowa began a slow rocking motion against the blonde's hips, feeling his body reacting to their closeness. The blonde gave him a little shove back, but he did it with a grin. Trowa knelt slightly confused for a moment... Then he saw Quatre shimmy out of his loincloth and then reach for his bag and look for something.

Trowa took the time to follow his lead, tugging the straps of his clothing off and sliding out of them. Quatre handed him a ceramic jar that contained some sort of oil, and Trowa needed a moment to figure that out before he blushed a little at not realizing sooner. He didn't figure that it was terribly kingly to not catch on, but, he slid his fingers inside the jar and put two and two together.

Quatre moved closer to him, kissing his cheek softly, and then he wrapped his arms around Trowa's neck and tugged him down so that Trowa was atop him again. Quatre was blushing, but smirking too. He was still hard, and licking his lips. Trowa found himself grinning back and stealing a hungry kiss.

"Go slow... Maybe use your fingers first?" Quatre suggested. Duo had spilled before on how he and Heero managed to make this part of their relationship work. He hoped that it would help them now.

Trowa nodded, pressing a soft kiss to Quatre's neck and then doing as he had asked for. Trowa put the oil on one finger and slid between Quatre's legs. There was really only one place he could go. It wasn't hard to figure out what he had to do. He didn't know why Quatre was making a big deal about this.

But then Quatre gasped in pain, and Trowa slowed his movements to a still. Trowa looked at the blond worriedly. What had he done? He had never hurt a woman before in coupling...

Quatre gave a slight nod, relaxing his body, "I just... Have to get used to you, that's all. Duo said it would be hard to get used to," He added softly, and touched Trowa's face gently to calm the warrior.

Duo. And Heero. Now that Trowa thought about it, Duo and Heero were lovers, and would have probably had these problems. Trowa had never met another man with a male lover. Quatre had. Perhaps... King or not... in this respect, Trowa had to bow down to Quatre's experience over his own. It was... humbling.

His confidence took a hit. But he continued on. He went slow, using just one finger and moving it slowly in and out of his lover. Quatre's muscles relaxed around him, and a few moments later the blonde was making a little groan- but it was frustration, not the pleasured groan he had hoped to hear, "Give me another. And kiss me or something?"

Trowa gave Quatre a scathing look, but he couldn't seem to keep it for long. He added oil to a second finger, dripping it over his hand, and then slowly pushed it in. Reaching up to kiss him would be awkward, but perhaps he could think of something just as good?

Trowa took his free hand and wrapped it around the shorter man's cock. He began a slow, long stroke and smirked as he watched the blonde. Suddenly, Quatre went from smart-assed and challenging to moaning for more of Trowa's touch.

It sent a thrill up Trowa's spine like nothing he had ever felt before. Sure, Trowa had always enjoyed that first thrust into a new woman that made them gasp, but Quatre's movements seemed to heat him all the way to the core and make his whole body ache to be part of him. Because it was Quatre. His Quatre. And his Quatre was laying back into the dirt of the ground and rolling his hips up to meet Trowa's hand.

It was addicting.

Trowa stroked him a little faster, and Quatre responded with a gasp. He curled up towards Trowa and buried his fingers in the bone-armour that hung from Trowa's neck, grasping it as if to keep himself tethered to the here and now. It was such an erotic sight that Trowa nearly forgot what he was doing. Until Quatre's body began to thrust a little into Trowa's grip and his muscles squeezed against Trowa's fingers hungrily.

Trowa's cock strained at the reminder, and he figured that one more finger ought to be enough. Quatre was very tight, but, Trowa went slow and managed to get three fingers inside of him after a little bit of work. He began with a rocking motion, pushing a little deeper now, making Quatre's muscles adjust to his intrusion as his hand worked against the blonde's cock just enough to make him moan, but not enough to give him any relief.

Perhaps he was being selfish... but Trowa only wanted to make Quatre moan with his cock, and not just his fingers.

Trowa pulled his fingers out as soon as he managed to get Quatre to accommodate him, and the blonde laid there, watching his lover's body in the moonlight, licking his lips in anticipation. Trowa was strong, and muscled, and his cock was hard and leaking in anticipation of Quatre's body.

Quatre wasn't ashamed of the moan that escaped his throat when he saw Trowa aiming inside him. Duo had warned him that it might be uncomfortable at first, but it would feel really good if Trowa hit the right spot (And yes, Duo had told him all of this recently, after meeting Trowa and knowing the blonde would be in this position eventually. Under him. Spread. Hungry. And begging for trowa's touch. Duo could be such a smart-ass sometimes, but, he had made sure to prepare his friend for this circumstance.)

Trowa aimed and pushed in slowly, taking the same care as he had with his fingers. Quatre was his lover, and, as far as Trowa was concerned, he was as good as his Queen. And he deserved the best. He planned to make this good for him, especially after Quatre had put up with Trowa's boorish behaviour earlier. But going slow and gentle was very difficult for him. The first sweet pleasure of entering the beautiful boy was enough to make sweat break out on Trowa's forehead and his breaths turn to deep, hungry pants. All he wanted was to grab his hips and thrust into him like a wild thing, but he managed to stop his baser instincts from taking over. Quatre deserved better than that.

Trowa had planned to take his time, but Quatre had other plans. As soon as Trowa was inside him and his body had loosened to accommodate his lover, Quatre had tugged Trowa down to lay atop him, wrapped his arms around Trowa's neck possessively, and began to push himself onto Trowa's cock with a low moan.

If hot and fast was what Quatre wanted, that was what Quatre would get! Trowa stabilized himself on his hands and knees, and then thrust into him with an unhindered passion, roaring with pleasure and echoing off the jungle walls.

Quatre let out a surprised gasp, then grinned playfully and tossed his head back, "Do that again, Lover!" he urged, bringing his legs up around Trowa's waist and tugging their bodies closer.

Lover? Trowa quite enjoyed the sound of that. He grinned back at Quatre and thrust in again with that dark, hungry growl of pleasure. Quatre's legs tightened and he slid back to meet Trowa's thrusts, moving against the man he loved, wiggling a little on the jungle floor to make this better. He could see that Trowa was thoroughly enjoying himself... but he had sort of hoped that it would be better. Duo would always scream in pleasure when he and Heero were making love. Sure, Trowa's movements weren't exactly hurting him, and he loved to see the always-composed Barton King lose his mask and gasp for more, but he wasn't sure why this was supposed to be all that good. Perhaps it was just something that woman would do for their husbands? He could see that, he supposed. Woman cooked, and cleaned, and put up with children--

"AH!"

Quatre's thoughts were cut off abruptly as the larger man brushed up against something inside Quatre that sent pleasurable tingles all through his body. Suddenly he didn't care about woman's work in the house, all he wanted was to feel that again! He licked his lips and his breath swallowed. He moved more forcefully with Trowa and felt it again, harder this time.

Quatre let out a moan of satisfaction and tensed in his body, rolling his hips up to meet Trowa's thrusts and guide their love making towards the spot that felt so good! Trowa seemed to catch on, and he leaned back a little and grabbed underneath Quatre's ass to keep him lifted a bit, adding his strength to support him.

Suddenly Trowa was hitting it right on every time, and Quatre was losing himself in the pleasure of it, gasping and whimpering for more from his lover. Trowa slammed in faster now, letting out that hungry moan of his that sent shivers up and down Quatre's spine. Oh yes, this was MUCH better than their love making back at the Barton keep. Now they were connected in more ways that simple admiration and infatuation. They now had trust. And mutual understanding, and now they were working towards a common goal.

Quatre knew that Trowa had to be close to completion. The King's breath was uneven and panting as if he was on the harshest of hunts, and his thrusts were fast, and hard, and making Quatre wonder how he was going to walk again even as he screamed for more and dug his fingernails into Trowa's shoulders.

It was no surprise when Trowa buried deep inside him, gasping, and then letting out a ragged moan as he spilled himself inside the blonde. Trowa hovered overtop of his for a moment, catching his breath, and letting out a soft near-purr that sounded vaguely like Quatre's name.

The blonde was charmed, but still panting for more. He ran his hands up into the short hairs at the back of his lover's head and continued to rock into the pleasure for a few more seconds, even as he felt Trowa's cock softening.

It had felt good. But Quatre was still hungry, and reluctant to let Trowa's cock escape. He had felt very nice inside once they had got the hang of this!

Trowa seemed to sense his problem, because he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Quatre's lips, having a soft, open sort of smile on his face like Quatre hadn't seen before. Then mischief had clouded Trowa's eyes...

Quatre let out a gasp of surprised pleasure when Trowa's hand went back around his cock and began stroking him with the same intensity as he had fucked with: Fast and hard and making Quatre see stars!

The blonde arched on the ground and moaned loudly, slamming his body down between Trowa's half-softened member and the hand that was driving him insane. It didn't take long, not when he was already feeling so hot, and Trowa's hand was stroking him so tightly! Quatre gasped in pleasure and thrust up into Trowa's hand, spilling himself white-hot all over Trowa's hand and his own stomach.

The power of his orgasm left him gasping, shaking on the ground with aftershocks of pleasure coursing down his spine.

Trowa pulled out then, moving away from him just long enough to roll beside him and pull him into his arms, kissing down his shoulder and holding him tight. He was smiling. Quatre could feel it against his shoulder.

"Next time, we'll have to remember to do that while we're making love" Trowa remarked with a grin. Quatre blushed, but he had to agree. It had been good.

It had been their first time. Quatre's first time. Trowa's first time with a man. Their first time together.

It hadn't been perfect, but, it was theirs.

Quatre slid his hand into Trowa's and entwined their fingers, snuggling against the warrior. "...I love you, Trowa."

"I love you too, Quatre." Trowa said softly, smiling against Quatre's shoulder still. He wasn't much of a man for words, Quatre supposed, but Trowa was a man of sincerity. And if Trowa said that he loved him, well... Quatre believed him. Even the parts about Trowa wanting to make an honest man out of Quatre.

"No more ladies in your bed?" Quatre had to ask, just to make sure.

Trowa shook his head no, then kissed Quatre's ear and bit on it playfully. "No." He hummed, "Just you. My Queen."

Quatre supposed he should be offended at being called a girls' name, but, he wasn't. Not when he understood the concept behind it. Trowa was taking him on as his official lover. His official second in command. His husband. His co-ruler.

They would have to figure out a better word, but, Quatre liked "queen" fine enough for now. Quatre turned in Trowa's arms to lean in to steal a sweet kiss, and then he pulled away to smile at him warm and lovingly.

With that, Trowa knew he was finally forgiven. He ran his fingers through Quatre's hair and watched him carefully for his reaction. "Tomorrow, we can go home?"

Quatre thought about that, touching Trowa's arms gently... tracing the lines of war paint on them and feeling the strong muscles holding him. "Yeah? Home... I guess. As long as it's with you, I can call that home."

That was a good enough answer for him, for now anyway. He would just have to prove to Quatre just how good a home Trowa could make for him. And he would. His first order of business would be to start building a hut for him and Quatre to share. And he didn't care what the tribe had to say about that, either.

This wasn't about his mother's legacy. And it wasn't about being royalty. This was about him and Quatre and them starting a new life. Together.

His tribe might be wounded, and broken, and lost. But now Trowa had Quatre. And he had faith in Quatre's ability to teach them. To help them. To heal them. And to change them. Because already, Quatre had changed Trowa's heart.

And now that he had felt what things could be like with Quatre, he never wanted things to go back to the way they were before.

And with Trowa as King, and Quatre as his second in command he was sure that things would never be the same again.

END