Hot Buttered Heero
"On your knees," Heero commanded, before leaning forward to enjoy one last plunder of the younger manís naughty mouth. Panting as he was released, Duo complied, spreading his legs wide and offering his ass with an arched back and a taunting wiggle of his hips. Heeroís eyes drank in the pose and the last vestiges of excess blood rushed to his greedy arousal. In a last moment of lucidity, he glanced around for something that he could use to speed things along when his attention fell on the forgotten bucket.
A smirk grew on his lips as he reached down for the discarded paintbrush. He dunked the instrument into the bucket until the entire length was wet, handle and all. He looked back towards his waiting lover only to find himself being watched. Heero leaned forward until his mouth was pressed against the curve of the other manís ear.
"Your turn," he said, low voice rumbling in Duoís ear. A curtain of hair fell forward to hide Duoís face as he melted against the back of the couch. He wasnít artistic and he certainly wasnít neat, but Heero was nothing if not thorough as he painted the cleft of the other manís ass with the butter, leaving no corner untended, loving every moan as gaps that fell from Duoís lips. Going back to the bucket time and again, he continued the broad strokes until butter ran down onto the younger manís heavy sack and dripped onto the velvet of the couch.
With overenthusiastic swipe, Heero accidentally got some of the butter on Duoís back and he quickly took advantage, painting a strip down the entirety of the other manís spine, taking care to move his hair out of the way. He followed Duoís example and removed the stroke with a long sweep of his tongue, reveling in the unforgettable taste of his loverís skin.
Duo shivered, his entire body dancing as Heero worked, muscles flexing and stretching beneath his pale skin as he lost himself to the dual sensations of the stiff brush against his tender flesh and the wet heat of the other manís tongue. Heero felt every husky sound shoot straight to his cock and he knew he wouldnít last much longer. But then, his trembling hand caused the bristles to press hard against Duoís opening and the long-haired man cried out, his head flinging back as he moved, hips moving as he unconsciously sought more contact with the brush.
Duo turned to look at him, lips parted and eyes feverish with lust and every thought suddenly left Heeroís brain but one: Duo high atop of the steel frame of an infant building, shouting in ecstasy as the long, thick wooden handle of a hammer disappeared into the clenching tunnel of his body.
"Do you like paintbrushes as much as you like hammers?" he growled, barely recognizing his own voice. Amethyst eyes went wide with comprehension before closing his anticipation.
"Fuck," Duo whispered. "Do it." Heero grabbed a fistful of hair, holding Duo still and capturing his lips in a deep, soul-stirring kiss as he fulfilled the request and thrust the brush home.
"Oh, God!" Duo screamed into Heeroís mouth, as the bristles prickles against his inner walls. Heero thrust the brush in and out of his body, each time going deeper until nearly the entire length of the handle disappeared with each inward plunge. A long-fingered hand reached back to wrap almost painfully around his pistoning wrist. He released the other manís lips and glanced down to watch as Duo fucked himself with the brush, holding Heeroís arm in place as he rode the implement.
Duo gave himself fully to the moment with the same vivaciousness that he did everything else, eyes closed, full lips parted with rasping cries. Heero felt like he was witnessing a force of nature, a sexy tidal wave that promised to drag him under and drown him in more pleasure than any mere mortal could stand.
Driven beyond all reason by the sheer, sexual power that was Duo, Heeroís last, slim thread of control snapped. He ignored the other manís yell of protest as the brush was flung hastily away. Pressing Duo against the back of the velvet couch, he thrust his aching cock deep into the eager, pulsing depths, pushing forward without hesitation and with no mercy.
He thought that heíd remembered what it was like to bury himself in the other man, to feel the beats of their hearts bond in a primal rhythm through their joined flesh. But no imperfect memory could ever aspire to the reality. So hot, it burned. So tight, it hurt. So unbelievably fantastic that he never wanted to leave.
Heero pulled Duo against his chest, holding him close with one arm and entwining their fingers as they braced themselves against the back of the couch. The heavy Victorian piece shuddered with the violence of his thrusts as he drove into Duo over and over again.
Long hair cascaded down Heeroís back as Duo collapsed against him, head falling against his shoulder, body held aloft only by the power of the man moving beneath him. The younger man shouted his loverís name in time to the pounding beat, his cries underscored by the relentless slap of Heeroís hips against his ass. The sounds resounded in the spacious room, reflecting back to them magnified and more intense. Duo reached back, buried his hand in the dark tumble of Heeroís hair, and turned to meld their lips together, the searing kiss sealing that last, vital connection between them.
Nothing more was needed. The symbolic joining shattered them completely and they poured out their passion into each otherís bodies as they shared a final breath. Heero hid his face in the sweat-covered hollow of Duoís neck, muffling his shouts of completion even as the other man let his ring out into the darkness. With a final sigh, they came back to themselves and collapsed against the couch, Heero unable to move as he lay flush against Duoís heaving back.
After a moment, Heero gathered himself enough to fall onto the cushions. He looked down at smeared streaks of blue on his chest briefly before grunting as Duo landed heavily against him. They lay silently as they relearned how to breathe.
"I think," Heero panted after a few minutes, "that we ruined all of your hard work." Duo chuckled, before stretching atop his muscled perch like a sleepy kitten. Heero was amazed as he felt his body react to the movement, though his lust was unable to overcome his sated exhaustion.
"It was worth it," Duo whispered. Heero fell asleep to the feel of the other manís lips pressing languidly against his own.
Heero felt rested when he finally opened his eyes again. So much so that the sight of the other man standing next to his easel, his unbound hair half-shrouding his still naked form as he sucked on the end of the retrieved paintbrush made him instantly hard. He watched the well-used handle play over Duoís lips and groaned quietly. He shifted against the sudden pressure in his belly and the movement drew the younger manís notice.
"Hi there, sleepy head," Duo said, smiling softly at the evidence Heeroís renewed desire. But, instead of moving to the couch, he beckoned to the other man with a slight jerk of his head. "Come here for a sec."
Though it took considerable effort, Heero eventually managed to gather enough strength in his legs to answer the summons. He walked behind Duo, wrapping his arms around the other manís waist and bending down to kiss the sweet curve of his neck before looking up. Heero froze as he stared as the former blank canvas, not noticing the other manís nervous glance.
"How long was I asleep?" he murmured, feeling a bit dazed.
"A few hours. Well, what do you think?" Duo asked after Heero had gone several minutes without speaking.
He wasnít sure exactly what to say. It was, in a word, extraordinary. There he was, in all his naked glory, looking for all the world as if a questing hand would reveal that his two-dimensional was merely an illusion. Duoís skill at photo-realism was beyond impressive. Every last one of the painstakingly rendered kanji were represented in the precise location theyíd be painted onto his body. The shadow of his eyelashes as they curved against his cheek, the heaviness of his member resting against his thigh, the precise swirling pattern of his tousled hair. It was all perfect. Heero even thought he could see the reflection of the flickering light of the candles on his skin. He looked down and met the uncertain eyes gazing back at him.
"You are absolutely incredible," he said, reinforcing his sincere approbation with a tender kiss. Their lips clung for a moment, the connection even more intimate than their previous joining. Eventually, Duo moved away, his almost bashful smile contrasting with the pride gleaming in his eyes. Together, they turned back towards the masterpiece.
"Are you going to show it in the gallery?" Heero asked. He was no longer embarrassed at the thought of strangers looking at his nude body. Duo was so amazingly talented that his work definitely deserved to be seen and appreciated, regardless of the subject.
"Huh, I wish," Duo replied. "Iím an architect, remember? The art thing is only a side gig. Besides, only famous artists are exhibited here," he explained in response to Heeroís questioning look. He smiled again as the arm around him tightened in rejection of the self-depreciating assertion.
"Famous artists," Heero scoffed. "I havenít seen anything here thatís anywhere near as good as this," he proclaimed, as though he studied the other artwork in depth rather than for the few minutes it took him to find the back room. Duo laughed, amused but grateful.
"Thanks," he chuckled. The sound faded away as the long-haired manís expression grew thoughtful. "You know, there is one way I could increase my notoriety."
"How?" Heero asked. Duo turned in his arms until they were face-to-face.
"My name would be more readily recognized if I did work in a variety of media. For instance, I might like to try my hand at sculpture." Heero was impressed.
"Really? You do that too?" he remarked. Duo nodded but Heero was distracted by the fingers that started skimming lightly along his sides.
"Um hmm," Duo answered. "In fact," he continued moving his tactile exploration to the intriguing planes of the other manís chest, "I would love to sculpt you."
"Me?" Heero echoed, his breath hitching as the fingers found his erect nipples.
"Yeah, Iíll bet you would look as terrific in clay as you do in paint. Thing is," he explained, tracing over the quivering ridges of the taller manís stomach, "doing a successful sculpture requires an extreme tactile familiarity with the subject." Heero groaned, his eyes closing as the fingers concluded their inevitable journey by wrapping around his renewed arousal.
"Think you could help me with that?" the long-haired man whispered, ending all discussion as he applied his tongue and lips to the column of his loverís throat.
As he willingly offered himself up onto the alter of art, Heero could only hope that he would survive Duoís rise to greatness.
Authors Note: What to know where in the heck I found the word for "cock?"
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