Hot Buttered Heero
"Like I said," Duo whispered, "I’m going to paint you."
Heero’s mind boggled, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Y-you’re going to paint ME?" he asked, his voice cracking like he was once again mired in embarrassing adolescence. Duo’s piercing gaze remained fixed on Heero’s face, as though to absorb every nuance of his reaction. He nodded silent in response.
"With the butter?" Heero clarified, receiving another nod in answer. He swallowed and shifted slightly on the couch in reaction to the intensified throbbing in his cock. He tried to imagine himself, lying on the red, velvet couch, covered from head to toe with the colored flavoring. Finding it difficult in the extreme to wrap his mind around the image, Heero blinked in adorable uncertainty as he met the other man’s intent stare.
"All over?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch. Duo smiled and Heero didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed as the braided man shook his head.
"Nothing so crude," Duo replied, his tone one of mocking reproof. "You should give my artistic vision a bit more credit than that." One, intriguing eyebrow lifted upward. "No, what I have in mind is much more interesting." Using the fine point of the paintbrush, he drew a small circle around the reclining man’s nipple. Heero shivered as the mark was once again removed with a corresponding swipe of an intrepid tongue.
"Then what are you planning?" Heero dared not speculate. The workings of the other man’s mind were undeniably fascinating, but ever unfathomable. This time, he gave into the urge to touch the naughty smile his question prompted, running the pad of his thumb over Duo’s soft lips. He inhaled sharply as the wandering digit was captured by a set of sharp, white teeth.
"Well," Duo began, taking Heero’s hand in his own and returning it to its former position on the couch after soothing the small nip with a kiss. "Ever since I moved to Japan, I’ve mastered the language, or, I should say, the spoken language, pretty quickly." Heero could readily believe that of the other man’s sharp mind. He’d taken several courses in English when he was in school but was far from bilingual. Duo, on the other hand, spoke Japanese with fluent ease.
"However, writing is a completely different story," the braided man continued with a self-depreciating laugh. "Those damned kanji are enough to drive you insane, don’t you think?" Heero smiled at the observation. Having learned the Chinese characters as a child, he didn’t find them particularly challenging. But, he could see how a non-native speaker would have trouble with them.
"You know, I’d be glad to help you with them, if you’d like," he offered obligingly. Curve of Duo’s lips only grew more wicked and Heero wondered what the heck he’d said that would cause such a reaction.
"Hmm, it’s funny you should say that, because that’s exactly what I had in mind." Duo dipped the very tip of the brush into the melted butter. "Don’t move," he murmured as he brought the brush to other man’s face. Heero could feel a five-stroke pattern being drawn high on his right cheek and recognized the resulting kanji symbol. The braided man lowered the brush and looked closely at the result.
"Perfect!" he declared.
"That was me, the character for ‘eye,’ right?" Heero asked, wanting to verify his guess. The other man nodded.
"Uh huh. That’s an easy one. Unfortunately, the rest aren’t nearly so simple. What I want from you, Heero, is a little tutorial. I’m going to paint every part of your delicious body with their kanji names, and you’ll have to make sure I don’t make a mistake. Don’t worry," he added, trailing the brush down the foreman’s bicep," I promise to clean you up when I’m done."
He elucidated the comment by licking away the thin, blue line. Heero groaned as he, and his twitching, swollen arousal, realized the erotic potential of Duo’s plan. He wondered just how many body parts the other man could name.
"So you’ll help?
The option of refusing never even crossed his mind. Duo happily set about his task and Heero remained still, or as still as he could with the sexy artist hovering over him. He shuddered as the paintbrush lightly caressed his body, as did several, stray wisps of hair that had escaped from the thick, chestnut braid resting along the younger man’s back. Heero tried to concentrate and to offer helpful hints when required.
"Let’s see," Duo said absently, his attention fixed on the motions of his brush. "Hoo, ‘cheek,’ sixteen strokes." The left side of Heero’s face was thus adorned and he moved lower. "Ago, ‘chin,’ eighteen strokes. Nine strokes for kubi, ‘neck.’"
‘So far so good,’ Heero thought, the tension in his body easing slightly as he focused on the other man’s efforts. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, he mused, confirming that Duo’s attempt at the eight-stroke kanji for shoulder, kata, was indeed correct. The feeling of pride he was experiencing at the beautiful man’s precise skill was interrupted as the tip of the brush stroked over one of the pebbled nubs on his chest.
"Sixteen strokes for chikubi, ‘nipple,’" Duo mumbled, paying no heed to his subject’s quick gasp. "Right?" he asked, looking up briefly after repeating the symbol on the matching peak of flesh.
"Yea," Heero rasped. "That’s right." Duo smiled and continued his work, not seeing the pained expression that flashed across the other man’s face. Heero tried not to think about the more southerly regions to which Duo’s endeavors would unerringly lead. But, of course, he failed as the aching tightness in said region relentlessly dragged his imagination to that very place. The butter was warm but cooled rapidly in the open air, allowing him to feel every damp line that covered his naked skin.
‘This could get bad,’ he moaned to himself, revising his earlier, naïve conclusion. As though he’d ever been able to keep himself under control in Duo’s presence. Those few times they’d managed to get together had left him inevitably hard, his body cursing the prudity of his conscience and demanding release in the solitary darkness of his bedroom. He clearly remembered the intoxicating blend of firm muscles and yielding flesh, the unbearable tightness of Duo’s hot passage, and the huskiness of his passionate shouts. He’d lived in an agony of longing for two, endless weeks and the braided man’s nearness, the knowledge that he could take Duo right there in the warehouse and that he would be welcomed with eager caresses and impatient, grasping limbs was almost too much to endure.
A fine tremor took up residence in Heero’s limbs as he endeavored to resist the base urges of his body. Though he knew Duo probably wouldn’t mind, he didn’t want to ruin the other man’s careful work. Fortunately, the brush ceased its torment of his nipples and instead was applied to his arms.
"Fifteen strokes for jouwan, ‘upper arm,’ seven strokes for hiji, ‘elbow,’ and twenty-one for zenwan, ‘lower arm.’ Te, ‘hand’, four strokes." Duo continued his work, seemingly unaware of the other man’s dilemma. He repeated the marks on the other arm, prompting another repressed groan from his subject as he draped himself over Heero’s body to reach his goal, though he was careful not to smudge the previously applied symbols.
"Mune, ‘chest’, ten strokes. Thirteen strokes for hara, ‘stomach.’"
Heero sighed as the brush returned to his torso. The delicate strokes of the stiff bristles against skin were maddening. His gut clenched, subconsciously retreating from the maddening caress. Maybe if he just concentrated on his instructive role. Yeah, that would help.
"It’s twenty-four strokes for nebarigoshi, ‘pelvis,’" he corrected. Nope, that was useless. A whimper lodged in his throat as Duo aahed in reply and used a thumb moistened against his tongue to wipe away the mistake.
"Twenty-four strokes for nebarigoshi while shiri, ‘hip,’ is only five strokes. Interesting."
After a tense moment of wondering where the braided man would go next, Heero moaned in heartfelt thanks as his thigh, rather than a more sensitive part, became the subsequent target of Duo’s devilish educational endeavor.
‘Futomomo, "thigh," sixteen strokes,' Heero mumbled to himself. He started echoing the stroke counts in his head, jumping slightly as he found that he was ticklish at the knee, of all places.
"Fifteen strokes for hisa, ‘knee,’ Duo continued, focusing completely on his task. Fukurahagi, ‘calf,’ twenty-seven strokes. And, seven strokes for ashi, ‘foot.’"
‘Oh, God,’ Heero thought, closing his eyes, as his left leg was treated to similar attention. Duo was almost finished with his lower limbs and that left only one area as of yet untouched. The feel of the wooden handle running up the inside of his thigh quickly recaptured his attention. His eyes flew open only to meet the other man’s hooded gaze. Duo’s full lips were parted slightly, his quickened breath audibly revealing that he hadn’t remained as unaffected by his work as he’d appeared.
"Looks like we’re all done. You’ve been really great, Heero," he praised. The foreman blinked. Done? Duo was going to leave it at that? A deep sigh of relief raised and lowered his chest. It looked as though he’d worried for nothing. Yes, the rest of it hadn’t been easy, but if the other man had actually gone there, he didn’t know if he would have made it with his dignity intact.
"You’re not bad at kanji at all, Duo," he began, only to falter as the braided man continued to watch him closely, his eyes dark and penetrating. "W-what?" he stammered.
"Actually, I meant to say, we’re almost all done," Duo whispered. Slowly, moved his hand until the paintbrush hovered over the neglected flesh between the other man’s spread legs. Heero went utterly still. He followed the motion of the brush with his eyes, his heart thundering in his ears so loudly that he was certain Duo could hear it. Everything seemed to stop, the anticipation building, as he waited for the brush to move that final, agonizing distance. The moment stretched endlessly until he was ready to scream. Finally, this was it. What he’d been dreading and for he’d what been longing. And he wanted it, needed the promised touch so badly he could taste it. He watched the tool with every shred of his attention even as Duo’s voice seemed to rasp over every inch of him.
"After all, I couldn’t forget the most important part, could I?"
Heero’s breath exploded in a harsh, silent shout as the tip of the brush’s wooden handle traveled deliberately down his throbbing length. His head fell back against the arm of the couch as the motion was reversed, the handle dragging from the flared base of his arousal to the blood-darkened end. Once again, Duo had brought him to the brink with an effortlessness that proclaimed his mastery over Heero’s body.
"Duo," he pleaded, as the butter-covered brush replaced the handle.
"Let’s see, that was twelve strokes for chinpon, ‘cock,’ right, Heero?"
"Fuck!" was the only answer he could give as the kanji was faithfully rendered on the swollen shaft with tiny, precise strokes. His body clenched as he fought the need to add a hot spray of white to the tableau his body had become. "Ahh," he cried as a stream of cool air wafted over his arousal. He looked down in time to see the other man raise his head from where he’d been blowing the buttery coloring dry.
"There, now. Finished," Duo remarked. He tested the blue mark on Heero’s hip with a finger, smiling in satisfaction when it didn’t smear. Looking up at the reclining man’s flushed cheeks, he moved over Heero until their faces were only an inch apart, his hands on either side of the other man’s head. Feeling Duo’s warm breath on his lips, Heero opened his eyes and took in the braided man’s smug expression.
"You’re done?" He forced the question past the tightness in his throat.
"Yep," Duo grinned. "All done."
"You’re sure?" Heero asked. Duo shivered visibly at the deep growl of the older man’s voice.
"Uh huh, I’m sure," he confirmed, his own voice dropping to a whisper. Amethyst eyes dropped to Heero’s mouth as the space between them slowly began to close, bit by irresistible bit. Their gazes locked for a timeless moment, speaking words that needed no utterance.
"I can move, now." It wasn’t a question.
Duo’s "please" was rendered mute as a strong hand cupped the back of his neck, lowering him until his lips were imprisoned in an all-consuming kiss. Bronzed bands of iron wrapped around him, pulling him fully onto the hard, naked body stretched beneath him. The paintbrush fell from Duo’s fingers, ignored as it clattered to the floor.
Heero grabbed the hem of the black t-shirt with clumsy but determined hands, lifting the offending garment over Duo’s head and flinging it away with careless aim. Twin moans of unleashed desire carried throughout the darkened space as heated, bared skin came into tantalizing contact. Heero groaned into the other man’s mouth as slender legs straddled his hips, his hips thrusting against the faded denim. The friction of the rough material against his naked flesh was incredible. His fingers clenched reflexively in reaction, digging into the back of Duo’s neck.
The braided man whimpered, and Heero released him, knowing he’d probably bruised the tender flesh with his carelessness. He released Duo’s lips, an apology ready on the tip of his tongue. But the other man grabbed his hand and replaced it, a pleading whisper begging Heero not to stop. The bulge beneath his denim-covered crotch offered irrefutable proof that the brute show of strength had turned him on. Heero groaned as he remembered how Duo had reacted to a similar demonstration high atop the scaffolding of his construction site.
Renewing the devouring kiss, Heero buried his fingers in the soft mass of Duo’s hair, taking care to keep the same harsh pressure against the other man’s scalp. His other hand slid down Duo’s heaving back, past the loose waistband of his jeans. Reaching beneath the light-blue fabric, his hand found the firm mound of Duo’s ass and he took a handful of the saucy curve, squeezing tightly as he pressed the other man against his almost painful arousal.
Duo moaned, hips writhing in Heero’s grasp. He thrust his tongue deep into the naked man’s mouth, prompting Heero clutch at him with more of the deliciously bruising pressure. The sexy sounds spilling from the braided man were driving Heero insane. He needed to hear more, knowing he would never tire of them if he lived to be a hundred. He kneaded the soft globe his hand, fingers slipping into the coveted valley. He was so close, so close to that place in which he longed to lose himself. Unable to resist the temptation, he ran a finger down the hidden crevasse, searching for his ultimate goal. He found it at last, circling the sweet pucker of flesh before pressing into the hot secrets it protected.
Duo’s head flung back and he cried out as the thick finger probed his eager passage. It hurt, dry as it was, but he couldn’t have cared less. All he wanted was more.
"Heero!" he shouted, moving against the invading digit as though trying to draw more of it into himself. "Shit! Yeah, that’s it. Ahhh!" He leaned back down and recaptured the other man’s lips with frantic need. "I want you, Heero. Oh, God, I want you right now. Why have you made me wait? Please! I don’t want to wait anymore."
Why had he waited? Heero was sure he’d had a good reason at the time, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember. What could have induced him to try and resist this beautiful man who was begging for him so shamelessly? All thoughts of wanting their next time to be perfect, of needing to tell Duo how he felt, flew from his mind. Every moment with Duo was perfect. They didn’t need some special time or place. And what better way to tell the other man how he felt that by fucking him for all he was worth.
"Why did you make me wait?" Duo repeated in a hot, opened mouthed plea against Heero’s throat.
"I have no idea," Heero moaned, resolving to waste no more of their precious time as he released the other man and used both hands to push the faded jeans from his hips. The button at Duo’s fly gave way beneath the impatient gesture and both men sighed in relief as the last barrier between them was removed. For the first time, they lay fully together, skin sliding on sweat-covered skin, cock pressed against dripping cock, mouths joined once more in decadent celebration.
Heero felt his tenuous control slipping away as the younger man moved against him, the slender body seemingly determined to make him finish before he’d even begun. Reluctantly, but with desperate purpose, he lifted Duo from him, setting him on his feet beside the couch. Heero looked up into his face, smiling at the pout that had appeared on those luscious lips. Duo opened his mouth to protest his removal from his rightful place, wanting to resume the delightful task of crawling atop Heero’s body with that magnificent arousal pressing against him like an unfulfilled promise.
But his lips parted on a gasp rather than a complaint as his own member was drawn into the warm cavern of the older man’s mouth. His hands still holding onto Duo’s narrow hips, Heero felt the other man’s weight increase suddenly as his knees buckled. The braided man slumped forward, the hands planted on Heero’s broad shoulders his only attempt to remain upright.
Heero savored the delicious rod of flesh in his mouth, sucking on it with firm pressure as he moved his head back and forth, working his way down the other man’s entire length. He hummed in pleasure as the weeping tip coated the back of his throat with its salty-sweet offering and Duo shouted his appreciation, slim hips thrusting helplessly into the moist heat.
"Feels good... Feels so good..." Duo continued to whisper the mantra as Heero worked him over. He moaned, his entire body vibrated as he neared the edge, only to cry out in frustration as the source of his ecstasy was cruelly removed. He glanced down at the other man, amethyst eyes flashing his aggravation. But he stilled as Heero reached behind him and took hold of his braid, his gaze full of longing reverence.
"Take your hair down for me?" Heero asked softly.
For a long moment, Duo just looked at him silently, his expression inscrutable. Slowly, he reached back and brought the long twist forward over his shoulder. He fingered the band securing the end, watching as Heero’s eyes followed the movement. He waited until the other man met his gaze.
"If I take it down," he began, searching Heero’s face as though seeking something of great importance. "If I take it down," he whispered, "then will you fuck me?"
Heero blinked, utterly confused, a small seed of worry growing in his mind. Is that what Duo thought? That Heero only wanted him for his body? That he only wanted him for a meaningless, though intense, bout of sex? ‘No!’ he thought. Duo needed to know the truth. He tried to think of how to reveal his feelings, a way to tell Duo how much he loved him. But then he noticed the gradually increasing curve on the other man’s lips and felt a matching smile grow on his own face. Duo laughed, slipping the tie from the end of his braid.
"You are too cute for your own good," he murmured, unraveling the incredible mass, the chestnut waves shining as the candlelight seemed to catch and illuminate each strand individually. Heero watched in awe, thinking that Duo looked like an angel. An angel with a hard cock and an evil grin. Finally, the entire length was free and Duo reached out and took one of Heero’s nipples between his fingers.
"Now then," he said, tweaking the nub and making the other man’s breath hitch, "you promised to fuck me." An angel indeed. Heero growled and pulled the other man onto the couch.