Play My Game: End Game
by Blue Soaring
The inside of the house was one giant contrast. Pristine marble floors were covered in black rugs with patterns running through them in different shades of gray. Black veins ran through the marble. The walls were sheathed in some sort of textured granite; a mixture of white, gray and black. I looked up, catching sight of the staircase that I assumed had to be the one that the limousine driver had been referring to. More stone. Did Heero suck every stone quarry in the world dry to build this house or what? Walking over to the stairs, I ran my fingers lightly over the cool surface.
Surprisingly soft. Probably sandstone, from the look and feel of it. I turned around just in time to see the great doors swing silently closed behind me. Without the light from the outside lamps, the interior of the house grew darker. The inside was illuminated by carefully placed lighting, hidden in the ceiling and walls. I looked at the closed doors, listening to my heart beat. Then I turned back around and climbed the staircase, my footsteps muffled on the carpeting that ran up the center of the stairs. At the top I halted, letting my hand linger on the banister. The first room I saw was to my left, the door slightly ajar. My stomach was doing flip-flops. I took a few seconds to slow my breathing. My being as giddy as a schoolgirl was not in the plan. I shook my head, causing my braid to swing. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, glancing around the room.
The empty room. Heero wasn't there. I quelled the twinge of disappointment and walked fully into the room, sizing it up. It was lit in much the same way as the rest of the house that I had seen; the lights, hidden from view, giving off a muted golden glow. The strict black, white, gray scheme of the main entrance changed here. The floor was carpeted completely in white; the walls sheathed in more black-veined marble. The first part of the room held a small table, more wine and a covered tray resting on it. Two large, overstuffed, rich blue chairs were set beside it. Further back, there was a raised dais, with the biggest damn bed I'd ever seen on it. The coverlet was the same blue as the chairs. White and blue cushions were strewn across the bed, giving it an almost haphazard look. The head of the bed was tucked in a little alcove, framed by curtains of the same hue. Matching curtains also framed a large window seat.
Tearing my eyes from the bed, and the ideas that it made spring to my mind, I curled up in one of the chairs, tucking my legs beneath me. I poured another glass of wine; red again, and sat, waiting and sipping. And trying to get my pulse to slow down to at least a somewhat reasonable rate. I wasn't having much luck with that, though.
I brought the glass to my lips again. And then I felt it. Someone's eyes on me. I looked back to the door, and Heero stood there, hand on the casing. Watching me. His eyes burned cobalt blue, deep enough to drown in. I sensed my little ideas slipping away alarmingly fast. I was eager for his touch again. I wanted to feel his body pressing against mine. I swallowed the wine quickly. It stung my throat, but I hardly noticed. He was walking towards me. No, stalking. He stalked across the floor, his bare feet making no sound. The white carpet made his skin seem darker. I raked my eyes over him, savoring every detail.
Lucky me, he wore very little in the way of clothing. White, low cut pants molded to his body, making me notice again the rich color of his skin. The pants had slits down the entire outside length of each leg, fastened at regular intervals with silver cord. Another silver cord looped around his waist, the ends dangling just past his hips. He wore only that same silver angel's wing at this throat; no shirt of any kind. Thank you, the view was quite pleasant. Finely muscled arms, a well defined chest . . . I wonder if I'm drooling all over my shirt. The dim lighting made him almost glow. It played across his chest and abdomen, calling my eyes to stop and stare. Which I promptly did.
And then he was in front of me, staring down with those burning blue eyes. I watched his face, taking another slow drink. Licking the corner of my mouth, I rested the glass on my leg, holding it loosely in one hand. I rested my chin in the other, bracing my elbow on the arm of the chair.
"Care for a drink, Heero?" I asked, letting my voice come out low. It was my turn now. To make him squirm.
A small smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. He ignored my question, instead leaning over me and bracing his hands on the chair's arms. The movement brought his eyes level with mine, and my breath caught in my throat. Those eyes held so many dark promises. Wonder if Heero made good on the promises his eyes made? His scent surrounded me; spicy and hot. His skin tasted like that, and I lost interest in the wine. I wanted to taste Heero.
"You taste better than wine," Heero said, echoing my thoughts; his breath whispering past my face.
I set the mostly empty glass on the table. I kept his eyes on mine as I brought my hand up and ran it down the center of his chest, teasingly slow. I ended with my finger resting lightly at the waistband, running back and forth over his skin where he ended and the pants began. I let my head fall back, leaning on the chair and letting my eyes grow heavy.
"Then, Heero," I almost purred, "would you care for a taste?"
He growled deep in his throat. I shivered at the sound. His hand cupped the back of my head, and he shifted forward, sliding one leg up to kneel partly on the chair with me. I unwound my legs, making room. His lips found mine, sending a searing line of fire right through me. He caught my bottom lip between his, opening his mouth a little and nipping at it with his teeth. Then his mouth was crushed against mine again, his tongue running along my lips. I groaned and grasped his hips, trying to pull him closer. He brought his other leg up, straddling my thighs and kneeling above me. I pulled back a little to open my mouth and say something, but his lips were sealing over mine again before I could form a syllable. Excitable thing, isn't he? My next thought dissolved rapidly as his tongue plunged into my mouth, stroking mine. I gave up with the idea of speaking and thrust my hands into his unruly hair, trying to eat him from the mouth down.
Heero finally pulled away from my mouth, attacking the skin exposed by the collar of my shirt. He licked his way across my collarbone, then worked backwards, nipping and sucking at my skin.
"Heero," I growled, panting. "Let me up."
"Why?" he said, with his lips still pressed against the hollow of my throat. Before I could answer, his tongue was forcing its way past my lips, drawing another moan from me. I twined my tongue with his, pushing forward to dip deep into his mouth. I ran my tongue over his teeth, pulled back to run it over his lips and then plunged back inside the wet heat, stroking the inside of his mouth.
Heero pulled back, his lips swollen and glistening. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and he licked his lips. My hands dropped to his waist. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, and I felt him rub the pad of his thumb over my half-parted lips.
Forget standing up now, my legs were trembling underneath him. "That's one hell of a way to say hello, Heero." My voice was breathy.
He quirked his lips at me. "Hai. Is that a complaint?"
"Hell no," I whispered, swallowing hard. "You should say hello more often."
Heero laughed, deep and seductive. My slowing heart rate immediately sped right up again.
"So, Mr. Heero Yuy of the Great Stone House," I said, shifting my legs under him so that my thighs pressed against his ass. "What do you have planned for tonight?"
His hands slipped under my shirt, fingers wrapping around my sides. His thumbs moved in little circles over my skin, slowly creeping upwards. "End game," he said, sliding back over my legs and pulling me to my feet.
I knitted my forehead in confusion. End game? The hell . . .? He dipped his head again, kissing the side of my mouth, then making a wet trail up my jawbone. He pushed his hands in my coat, bringing the light material down off my shoulders. His breath tickled my earlobe.
"I want," he whispered in my ear, "something more than the game . . . ."
My coat fell to the floor, forgotten. I turned my head, bringing my lips brushing past his. "More, Heero?" I said, wrapping my arms around him and melding my body to his. I felt him hot and heavy through our clothing. I pressed my leg between his, nudging his thighs apart. I rubbed myself against him, rewarded with a strangled groan. Heero's hands dropped down, clutching my hips and then lower, gripping my ass and pressing us tightly together. He buried his head in the crook of my neck, biting. Rocking his hips against me, the electric heat of his cock pressing into me tearing small, nonsense sounds from my mouth.
"Oooh, Jesus, Heero, stop. Stop . . . ." I put my hands on his shoulders; his skin was fevered and smooth under my fingers. Pushing him away took every ounce of strength I had left in me. Even then, I only got about an inch between us.
His eyes went dark, and he growled, "Duo," under his breath.
I put my finger over his lips, and his tongue darted out to lick it. I smiled at him, a little twist of my lips. "Shush," I said, tracing his lips with my finger. I ran my other hand down his back, ghosting over his ass and firmly closing my hand over the front of his pants. His breath hissed out, and I squeezed gently. I watched his eyelids slide lower as I worked his cock through the cloth.
I pushed him back, one hand on his chest and the other teasing him with first light pressure, then more. His foot bumped against the stair leading up to the bed. He stepped up, and I followed him. When the backs of his legs hit the bed, I crushed my mouth and body to his, my hand still trapped between us. I pressed harder, forcing a whimper from his throat.
I broke away and pushed him down on the bed, resisting when he tried to pull me down with him. He fell back, propping himself up on his elbows, his feet still touching the floor. And he watched me.
Backing up a few steps, just out of his reach, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. I slipped it off my shoulders, leaving it hooked around my elbows. The light material ghosted around me with my movements. I ran my hand softly across my chest and down my stomach, toying with the ties on my pants.
"Your hair," Heero said, his eyes riveted on me.
"No," I said, shaking my head enough to cause my braid to slip forward over my shoulder.
"Please." His voice was low, husky.
"No," I repeated, softer this time. If he wanted my hair down that bad, I'd make him wait. No, that's not very nice of me. Odd. Where did you get the idea that I was nice?
I undid the ties, pushing them down and loosening my pants. I watched his hand twitch on the blue bedspread, toward his groin. I turned sideways to him then, bending down and unlacing my boots. I could feel his eyes burning into me. I ran my hands down my leg, and slipped my fingers just inside the top of my boot. When I slid my foot out, my sock stayed behind. I did the same with the other, finally straightening back up. Heero had sat up on the edge of the bed. He crooked a finger at me, and I went to him and stood between his spread legs.
He drew me close, licking and nipping at my stomach. His hands kneaded my ass as he kissed his way down, past my bellybutton as far as the pants would let him. Then he dipped his hands into my pants, pushing them down. His fingers played across the cheeks, running over the cleft. I trembled when his hot breath brushed over my cock; then hissed when his tongue darted out and licked the tip. I turned my head away, my hand flying to my mouth. I bit down on the side of it, trying to keep from loosing it right then and there.
Heero pressed his face in my navel, then stood up, agonizingly slow, and keeping his body pressed against mine. My head fell back and I clenched my eyes shut when his naked skin came in contact with my erection; the harsh friction as he stood walking the fine line between pleasure and pain. His hand wormed its way between us, and his long fingers wrapped around my throbbing cock. I let out a choked cry, my own fingers digging into his sides. "If you want more," I managed to say from between clenched teeth, "you had better stop that." I rocked my hips toward him, feeling his hand slide over my cock. Ignoring my own words, I sped up, my mouth open and my breath coming in small gasps. Sometimes your own advice is the hardest to take, wouldn't you say?
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you want to look at it, Heero decided to listen to me. He removed his hand from between us, stilling my body. I made a small sound in my throat, something very much like a whimper.
I clung to him, resting my forehead against his, breathing deeply. And if Heero wanted something more, he needed to get out of those damn pants of his. I reached between us, tugging on the cord looped around his waist. Then I started on the few buttons. His own hands weren't idle. He lightly trailed his fingers over the cheeks of my ass again. I drew in a shuddering breath, trying to concentrate on those pesky little buttons that for some reason kept evading my fingers. Heero seemed just a little too amused at the fact that he could make me fumble with the buttons. Then he got the idea that I was taking too long. His fingers pressed into the base of my spine, then slid lower, spreading me apart and teasing my entrance. I grit my teeth, torn between thrusting forward into him or back onto his fingers. I felt the tip of his finger dip just inside me, and made a small sound halfway between a whimper and a grunt. The hell with buttons; I ripped his pants open. I heard a little pop. Wonder how far that button flew.
Heero chuckled. I dipped my hands down the front of his pants, brushing past his erection and making his chuckle dissolve into a moan. Pushing his pants down a little, I freed his cock. I looked down, then up, meeting his eyes. The urge to lick my lips was very tempting at that point. I kissed him, shoving my tongue past his lips. I saw his eyes widen, then drift to half-mast. I pulled back a little, keeping our lips touching, and grinned. His eyes flew open when I pushed him backwards. He hit the bed with a sharp explosion of his breath. I tugged his pants off the rest of the way, then slid onto the bed after him, kicking off my own pants.
I crawled over him, kissing whatever patch of his skin was closest to my face. He inched upwards until he lay in the center of the bed. I hovered over him, my hands planted firmly on either side of his head.
"Do you want me?" I asked, letting the bottom half of my body drop. I ground myself into him, breathing heavily.
He arched his back, digging his head into the bed and baring his neck. That was too good an invitation to pass up. I closed my lips over the big pulse in his throat, nipping at the skin and then laving it with my tongue.
"Yes . . . ." he groaned, clenching his eyes shut.
"What do you want, Heero?" I kissed my way across his collarbone.
He opened his mouth, taking deep breaths. "You."
Heero had a one track mind. Amazingly enough, I was pretty sure what he wanted. I knew damn well what I did. But I wanted him to ask for it. Sadistic? Me? Not at all.
"Tell me what you want."
His hands were tracing the muscles of my back. One of his hands wrapped itself around my braid, running down the length of it. "Please," he said, lips barely moving.
"Tell me," I lifted my head and kissed his lips, "what you want."
"Inside, I want to be inside you," his last words trailed off into a sharp cry when I thrust myself hard against him. He broke the band of my braid, raking his hands through my hair. It fell around us, the lighting in the room making it shimmer in reds and golds.
I rolled over, dragging him with me. I spread my legs, bending them at the knee, and he settled between them. My hair flowed across the bedspread.
"Then take what you want, Heero," I told him.
He said something that sounded like 'yes', kissing me roughly. His hand dived under the mound of pillows, searching. Don't ask me how he managed to find anything under there, but he did. Cool, slick fingers danced along the cleft of my ass, teasing. I growled at him. Heero took the hint and slid a finger inside, then quickly slid in a second. He turned his hand, curling his fingers and finding my prostate. I bit down hard on my lip, feeling pleasure rip through me. Heero had me writhing under him in seconds. He moved his fingers in and out of me slowly, sometimes curving them to brush my spot and sometimes not.
That was enough of that. Teasing me at this point in time was sadistic. Yes, I am a hypocrite. No, I don't really care that I am. Fair is fair, as long as its more fair to me.
"Heero," I gasped his name, since he chose that moment to hit my prostate, "stop teasing me."
His lips quirked in that little smile that I knew meant he was enjoying my squirming. "Why should I do that?"
"Because," I answered, pushing the words out between gasps, "I want . . . you . . . to fuck me. Now."
Heero slammed his fingers into me, hitting my spot in several rapid strokes. "Now?"
I dug my fingers into his arms so hard that my nails must have broken his skin. "Dammit, yes! Now!"
He moved so quickly that I only had the barest flash of emptiness before he slid his cock inside me. I shouted, hoarsely, and arced up off the bed. He caught my hips, holding me up. Wrapping my legs around him, I held him there, little sounds falling from my lips. Hard and so hot. He filled me completely. Little white spots danced through my vision.
I twisted my hands into the bedspread, clawing at it. "Move, Heero."
And he did. Sweet Jesus, did he move. He made a few small thrusts, then pulled back, almost emptying me. Snapping his hips forward, he filled me again. It felt like more than before. My eyes flashed wide as he did it again and again. I tossed my head back, moaning his name. His name wasn't the only thing I said, but I wouldn't be able to tell you what else if my life depended on it. Or his. Maybe the world, for that matter.
He kept varying his strokes, pushing himself in and out of my body. I looked down, watching his skin glisten. His muscles bunched and relaxed, straining. Looking back up, I saw him watching as he slid in and out of my body. He raised his eyes to mine. I watched everything dissolve in his eyes, except for the burning passion and need.
His pace increased, slamming into me harder and harder. He hit my prostate with every thrust, wrenching a mewling sound from my throat. One cry melded into the next and soon I was reduced to crying out in one, long continuous keening wail. Heero's words fell over me, making the burning in my stomach coil tighter and tighter. I braced my hands on the headboard of the bed, pushing down to meet his thrusts.
He plunged deeper, shifting the angle of my hips a little. I saw little tremors run under his skin. Then he stiffened, throwing his head back. I clenched my body around him as he thrust into me a last few times. Then I felt him come inside me, spilling hotly over my prostate. He wrapped his hand around my cock at the same time, and he didn't even get a chance to pump me before my body snapped taught and I came. My orgasm seemed to last forever; wave after wave of pure pleasure darkening my vision. Finally, I slumped back onto the bed, and Heero fell over me with a long, low groan. My lower body was still spasming with him still inside me. We lay there, gasping for lost breath.
Several breathless minutes later, he pulled out. The feeling of him emptying me was almost as incredible as him filling me. He picked me up off the bed, crushing me against him. He ravaged my mouth, bruising my already tender lips. Then he set me on my feet on the floor, and I leaned heavily on him for support. I felt his come trail down my thighs slowly. Heero stripped the bedspread off, using a corner to wipe most of the mess off of the two of us. Real sex, real good sex, is like that. Hot, sweaty, and really fucking messy. I almost grinned, I felt that euphoric. I settled for a little smile as he brushed the blanket over my legs, finally rolling it up and tossing it into a corner. Picking me up again, he tore down the rest of the sheets, then crawled onto the bed. He wrapped his legs around mine, burying his head into my chest. I rested my chin on top of his head, curling as close to him as I could without crawling into his skin. I drifted off, the last sensation I remember was his lips pressed against my throat.
Duo watched Heero move throughout the crowd, with them, but not; seemingly separate from the people even while surrounded by them. The bar was different, the time, the date, everything was different. Except Heero. He was still the same, still the man who had intrigued Duo in those weeks before. Duo sat at the little table, perched on a stool. Heero made his way towards him, a glass in each hand. He moved sinuously, all energy and barely contained power. Duo felt a thrill of excitement pass through him. He had tasted that energy; grown addicted to it.
Heero was definitely something more.