The construction worker held the gyrating machine firmly in his powerful grip, muscles bulging like sinewy bands of steel beneath his bronzed skin. The day had been abysmally hot and, even though the fiery July sun was finally slipping lower in the western sky, the air still shimmered as thermals rose in lazy waves from the metal beams surrounding him. He pressed on the stubborn peg, forcing it into the too small bolt hole until it was flush with the iron rafter. A flicked switch quieted the jackhammer, increasing the heavy, expectant silence of the sweltering heat.
Heero removed his hard hat and shook his head vigorously to remove the sweat lodged in the thick bush of dark-brown hair plastered to his head. Yanking off his green tank top, stained dark in places with perspiration, he wiped away the moisture dripping down his face. His leather tool belt hung heavy and low over his narrow hips, the instruments clinking together as he moved. He reached for a bottle of water, barely chilled by the melted ice in the orange cooler resting next to him, and poured half of its contents over his head, letting the rivulets run down his face and chest in a soothing stream. As he tilted back his head to swallow the remainder of the refreshing liquid, his dark blue eyes - a stunning contrast to his Japanese features - drifted to a solitary figure sitting on a bench across from the construction site.
Heero was the foreman at the site and the work was progressing far ahead of schedule. The other guys had all gone home for the day, cursing the oppressive weather and their slave-driver boss. But the brown-haired man remained, ostensibly to finish the riveting work on the second story of the new structure. The lie tightened in his gut when a futile breeze swept past, rifling his wet hair and flirting with the incredible braid that rested over a shoulder of the mysterious stranger.
The person - man or woman, he wasn't quite certain, especially given that amazing rope of hair - sat as he had for several days. Heero referred to the other as, "he" in his mind, his personal preferences dictating the wishful presumption. The man had been visiting the site daily, a large sketch pad in hand, sitting motionless except for the dancing braid and the hand that flew tirelessly over the paper.
Though he couldn't make out any particulars about the artist's features, his eyesight was good enough to ascertain several intriguing details. Although the clothing changed, one thing remained constant: everyday, the supposed guy wore a t-shirt and a pair of shorts that strained against all bounds of decency. The shirts - if you could call them that - they were nothing more than trivial swathes of fabric that revealed more than they concealed. Besides offering the barest minimum of coverage, the tees were so tight, the material seemed almost like a second skin, hinting at ambiguous though delectable curves.
As if the upper display weren't enough to make Heero's dungarees uncomfortably tight, the bottom view was infinitely more mesmerizing. Above sockless feet encased in ever-present flip-flops, a pair of legs traveled up ... and up ... and up, leading to narrow hips covered by shorts so skimpy they were probably illegal in thirty states. They weren't just brief, they were damned microscopic, riding so low that Heero could see the delicate skin over the stranger's pelvic bones and so tight that he could glimpse tantalizing teases of small, firm ass cheeks on the rare occasion the artist took a break and abandoned the bench. An intriguing distortion lent a bit of credence to his male-gender theory but the distance was too great for him to say one way or the other with any confidence.
Hot guy or long-legged girl, the long-haired squatter had captured Heero's attention since his appearance three days ago. As he made his way down the lift to the ground, the foreman wondered, not for the first time, what kept bringing the stranger back to the site. This job was nothing terribly special. It was a high-rise development, same as a dozen others going up around the city. The naked steel girders were a common enough sight. Why was this guy so fascinated?
Heero stepped from the lift, his glance sliding once more to the bench as though pulled against its will. The seated man had been there since before noon, his attention shifting between the construction area and his sketch pad. But now, the stranger seemed enthralled by whatever image he was rendering, his hand moving like a blur over its surface.
The Japanese man watched the artist for a long moment, unobserved. The stranger had drawn a corner of his lip between his teeth in concentration and the blue-eyed foreman had the urge to sooth the hurt by sucking the succulent flesh into his own suddenly dry mouth. He stood there blatantly staring for as long as he dared. Then, realizing that he was becoming obsessed, he forced himself to look away. Scolding himself to stop stalling, he walked to the office trailer, needing to finish a small bit of paperwork before calling it quits.
The work was routine and went quickly. Task completed, Heero stood and stretched, the muscles of his exposed chest smoothing and bunching in a way that would have made some lucky voyeur drool had he been around to watch. A swift sniff convinced him not to re-don the funky green shirt and so he exited the trailer bare-chested. Locking the door, he turned only to find himself cock-to-eye with his the object of his infatuation.
The stranger's gaze had been fixed somewhere below Heero's waist but it was raised suddenly. For the first time, the foreman had the opportunity to see the artist up-close and was struck by two critical realizations. One, the stranger was definitely a man and, two, he was fucking gorgeous!
Heero felt as if he were literally falling into the incredible amethyst eyes smiling back at him. Lips, pink from their recent nibbling, were turned up in a sexy grin, exposing white teeth that flashed in the dazzling light of the setting sun. The body that was on such stunning display was as perfect as he'd imagined, the swell beneath the cut-off tee indicating a pair of developed pecs to match the taut abs peeking out from beneath. Long, smooth legs, golden from constant exposure, drew the builder's fascinated gaze before his awareness fixated on what he could swear was the base of the man's cock hiding just beneath the low-slung shorts.
The Japanese man jerked his eyes upwards, afraid that he would be caught ogling. Instead, the stranger was otherwise engaged, caressing the sleek expanse of bare skin obligingly offered for his perusal. Heero cleared his throat and the sexy visitor drug his gaze upward with seeming reluctance. The smile was still there but had taken on a decidedly roguish cast which went straight to Heero's swelling arousal.
"Um, what can I do for you?" he stammered.
The other man seemed to consider the question, the vein of his preferred reply apparent as he flicked his tongue over his lips. Heero swallowed. Finally, the stranger spoke, holding out the hand not wrapped around the sketch pad.
"Hi, I'm Duo. Duo Maxwell."
Heavy with an American accent, the man's voice was husky, like velvet smoke, and it stroked over the foreman's heated flesh. Wiping his suddenly sweaty palm against his thigh, Heero reached out his work-roughened hand and accepted the friendly gesture. The warm skin caressed his with erotic insinuation. His breath hitched at the sparks that flew between them at the innocuous contact. It was a moment before he found his own voice and could stutter a reply.
"H-Heero Yuy." The other man smiled at his show of nerves.
"Heero. Hmm, terrific name."
Heero suddenly thought it was terrific too, especially when spoken in the sultry tone that rolled effortlessly from the American's tongue.
"Well, Heero," Duo continued, "you might have noticed me watching you this week."
Heero nodded dumbly, hardly able to deny the assertion.
"It's not like I'm a stalker or anything!"
The braided man's laugh was as sexy as the rest of him. The foreman shifted to relieve the growing pressure in his jeans.
"No, I'm an architecture student and I was just studying the design of this building. It's a Kushrenada, right?"
The foreman experienced an irritating twinge of disappointment. For a while, he'd managed to invent some romantic reason for Duo's diligence: maybe he'd seen found the brooding construction worker unbearably alluring and had sat captivated for days, eager for the opportunity to watch the target of his desire from afar. Heero almost laughed aloud at his own hormone-inspired insanity.
He forced himself back into reality. Duo was looking for nothing more than the chance to view the work of his idol. Treize Kushrenada was the premier architect in country and the inspiring student probably wanted nothing more than to observe the creation of greatness. Faced with mundane enlightment, Heero relaxed and returned the other man's friendly grin.
"Yeah, it's a Kushrenada," he affirmed. He let his gaze take another indulgent trip across the American's face then surprised himself by asking, "Would you like a tour of the site?"
Large, amethyst eyes brightened, becoming even more beautiful and alluring. The Japanese man sighed as Duo nodded his enthusiasm, already regretting his impulsive offer. He was only human, after all. How the hell was he supposed to keep his hands to himself and away from all of that enticing flesh. He even opened his mouth to rescind the proposition, but his reluctance faded under the brilliance of the other man's delight. As the budding architect turned to walk towards the elevator, the ass-length braid beckoned him with a come-hither sway.
The formerly roomy lift had shrunk by some unknown means. The foreman was finding it impossible to prevent his hand, his arm, his knee, his hip, from rubbing up against some innocent part of Duo's body. Cursing his insubordinate limbs, Heero led the way out onto the unfinished twelfth floor. It was the highest part of the structure and offered a wonderful panorama of the surrounding cityscape. He thought it would be a good place to start.
Duo "Oooed" and "Ahhed" appreciatively, asking a long series of rapid-fire questions and looking adorable in his borrowed hard hat. The Japanese man answered resolutely, not sure whether being around the burgeoning draftsman was stacking up to be more pleasure or pain. While he enjoyed the braided man's animated zeal, the other man's fashion sense was causing an agonizing ache in his groin. Finally, the loquacious stream slowed, and suddenly, nothing remained but a suspenseful calm.
Heero had been looking at the view, trying to maintain a constructive, if not physical, distance from the tempting student. He turned at the silence, wondering if something had diverted the American's attention. Something had, and that something seemed to be his naked chest. At first, the foreman though he had something on his skin, perhaps a smear of ketchup from his lunch-time hamburger. But then, he noticed that Duo had parted his sensuous lips and that his already tiny shorts had gotten even smaller.
The long-haired man finally lifted his gaze, his eyes molten pools of precious stone. Heero felt his heart pounding rapidly against his ribcage, threatening to break free and provoke some potentially humiliating declaration of lust inspired affection. Duo raised the sketchpad, opening it to his most recent completion.
"I lied, you know. I wasn't really here all of those days just to draw the building. Sure it's why I came here, at first. But it's definitely not why I stayed."
The soft explanation tingled over Heero's senses as he looked at the image on the pad. A loving rendition of a man graced the page, every muscle on the unclothed form dripping with virility, every ripple clearly defined, every curve faithfully captured. The depiction was beautiful, incredible in its depth of detail. It was as though at any moment the man would spring from his two-dimensional prison and impose his masculine perfection on the real world.
The foreman was astonished at the extent of the student's talent. But that sentiment paled next to the visceral wrench that travel from his gut straight into his engorged cock when he realized that the man Duo had drawn so breathtakingly was none other than himself.
His awestruck expression must have conveyed the wrong impression because Duo lowered his gaze and closed the book as an embarrassed tint flitted across his cheeks. Heero could almost feel the braided man's disappointment. He opened his mouth to explain but his throat was still choked with flattered emotion and the American began to spout a torrent of self-effacing chatter.
"Look, man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just thought, you know, that you were cute. Hell, to be honest, I think you're fuckin' hot, but that's just my own humble opinion. I don't want to bother you or take up any more of your time. It's just I saw you up here, working on the high-beams and I thought 'that much perfection should be outlawed.' I mean, how could I possibly resist fantasizing about you after seeing you surrounded by all of this construction machinery and steel..."
Heero fought past the lump in his throat and interrupted the nervous babble. "I'm not mad."
Duo stared at him as though trying to see past the reassuring words to the truth.
"Really, I'm not. It's just, I've never seen something so incredible in my life and I was a bit overwhelmed, I guess. You're really talented. The drawing is terrific!"
Amethyst eyes continued to bore, distrustful of Heero's sincerity and fearful of rejection. The foreman reached down and took the sketchpad from the other man's slack grasp. Turning to the portrait, he brushed over it with reverent fingers.
"Honestly. I love it."
The quiet assurance broke through Duo's reserve and he smiled with a wattage that lit up the darkening sky. Night lamps indirectly illuminated the site, bathing them in a harsh glare that was somehow still intimate.
Heero blinked under the luminous assault of the American's grin. Dizzy from the massive rush of blood leaving his brain, he struggled to pose a question that had formed during the other man's prattle. "Uh," he began cleverly, "why do you like construction work so much?"
The grin changed character again, altering from cheerful to seductive in the blink of an eye. He turned and bent over to place the sketch pad precariously on the beam beneath their feet, presenting the other man with an enticing rear-view. Reaching up to the steel support at his back, Duo ran a leisurely finger over the raw metal. Heero could only watch in slack-jawed amazement as that same finger was slowly sucked into a naughty mouth. Heero swallowed again, wishing ardently that that finger was a certain throbbing part of his body.
"Well, you see," Duo began, walking towards Heero and running the now hot, moist finger along his bronzed skin. "I've always had this ... thing ... for tools." The finger commenced a slow orbit around one pebbled nipple. "I love them, the smell and feel of hot metal and smooth wood in your hand." The other nipple was similarly traversed. Heero clenched his fists to keep from grabbing the wandering digit and bringing it to his own eager mouth.
"I especially like tools that pound things," the American continued. "Don't you think there's just something, I don't know, *primal* about man's ability to enforce his dominance over his environment?" The finger wound its way through the furrows that defined the foreman's work-hardened abs. The blue-eyed man tracked the slender trespasser, thinking that even if the other man stopped now, he would have enough to fuel his fantasies until he was too old to get it up. He listened keenly, waiting for more of Duo's philosophy to unfold, praying that he wouldn't finish loosing his mind until he'd heard the entire story. He saw his chances for success dwindle as the finger began to trace the bulging outline of his jeans.
"Don't you think it's wonderful how a man can thrust a large, hard object into a small space into which it's just really too big to fit?" The finger was exchanged for a caressing hand. The Japanese man lifted his eyes to Duo's face and struggled to keep them open, his ability to concentrate evaporating in the sensual haze clouding his mind. His hips began to move, seeking more contact with the tormenting hand. How had the other man brought him to this state with nothing more than a quiet stream of words and an inquisitive touch?
"Hell," Duo continued, his voice showing that he hadn't remained unaffected by his boldness. "It's almost like sex, if you think about it." He increased the pressure on the solid weight in his grasp, thrilling at the harshness of the foreman's rasping breath. "I guess that's why I wanted to become an architect," he whispered. "I really get off on erecting hard steel..."
The dam of Heero's control collapsed. Suddenly, Duo found himself trapped within encircling arms strengthened by years of construction work and lust. The braided man's groan filled the builder's mouth and he pressed the sexy student against the unyielding iron girder, claiming those taunting lips with his own.
Heero knew he was a good kisser, plenty of horny men had told him so during the more active days of his past. Motivated as he hadn't been in years, he brought all of his skills to bear on the beauty pinned between the unbending steel scaffold and his equally rigid body. The desire for revenge burned in his gut. Revenge for the midriff-revealing shirts. Revenge for those damned 'fuck-me' shorts. Revenge for that alluring braid. Revenge for the cock-teasing that had ensured he would never again be able to work without getting hard. Heero ravaged the other man's mouth with commanding sweeps of his tongue, reveling in the desperate cries and writhings his actions produced.
Burning lips were forced to separate when air became wanting. A deep blue glance noted the other man's flung back head, braid swinging in a hot-blowing breeze, the closed lids, and the bruised lips parted in an attempt to breath. Feeling a bit smug at how affected Duo seemed to be from his revived expertise, Heero shifted his efforts to the sweet column of flesh pleading for his attention. His eyes slid shut as he savored the other man's tantalizing taste, his hands clutched in the tormenting tee.
The sound of the American's groan, pulled from him as his neck was ravaged by a hot mouth and a laving tongue, caressed the foreman's ears. So involved was he with charting the enticing region that he barely felt the sudden lightening of his tool belt as nimble fingers scavenged at his waist.
Heero felt a hint of movement above his head, the pulsating sensation of something moving back and forth, first blocking the flooding light then allowing it to fall on his face. Though he was curious, the unhurried flickering wasn't enough to distract him from the luscious skin on which he was feasting. But then the tenor of Duo's throaty moans changed: he sounded as though he were enjoying some utterly delicious treat. Heero opened his eyes and glanced up. He slowly raised his head, breath caught firmly in his throat.
Duo had liberated his hammer, his favorite one with the comfortably rounded rather than flat-ended handle, and was licking it then sucking on it as if the well-worn wood held some gooey treat deep within. The foreman felt his cock stiffen until it was harder than the wooden grip. He stared, fascinated by the deliberate thoroughness with which the other man attacked the tool, eyes closed so as to prevent any distractions from his enjoyment. The shaft was not small, made as it was to fit his large hands, and the implications of the depths to which the braided man sucked down the handle boggled the foreman's already feverish mind.
Heero's hands clenched spasmodically. The sound of Duo's shirt ripping neatly down the middle went unheeded by either of them.
The student nonchalantly shrugged himself from his ruined shirt, letting gravity slide the torn fabric from his shoulders. He switched his hold on the hammer, never slackening his oral investigation of the thick tool. Finally realizing that he'd been abandoned, Duo opened his eyes and looked up. He lifted the now glistening rod away from his mouth, smirking at Heero's look of bemused desire.
"Did I ever mention that hammers are my favorite tools? All that latent power fitting in the palm of your hand." Amethyst eyes flicked down towards the builder's midsection before glancing upward to gaze at the other man with smoldering intent. "Hmm, but I can think of something else I'd like to hold, and touch, and kiss, and lick..."
The dirty litany was accompanied by the sight of Duo sliding down the support girder, brushing against every inch of Heero's frozen body along the way. The sound of his zipper being undone seemed unnaturally loud to the Japanese man's ears, like the cry of some horny beast. He felt his jeans and briefs being pushed down his legs followed by the sensation of flitting fingers tickling a path back up the locked limbs.
A multitude of thoughts flitted through his mind, unable to germinate. He had to pick up his dry cleaning and remove the grout from his basement sink. The aluminum siding on his house could use a good rinse.
His cock had to get sucked by the Hoover...
Heero fell forward, barely managing to brace his hands as his legs threatened to give way. Never in his life had he been given a blowjob with such skill and flair. A lick. A suck. A lick. A flick. A probe. A swirl. Duo was as unbelievably talented with his tongue as he was with his charcoal pencils. The foreman forced himself to watch and, indeed, the viewing was as impressive as the feeling. The kneeling man's braid swung in time with the vigorous back and forth movements of his head. The builder felt every ounce of rationality flowing from his mind to his cock and then into the wicked mouth working him with such expert intent.
Suddenly, he felt the need to taste Duo and he had to do it now! He bent down and retrieved his hammer, not wanting the other man to lose his grip on the precious implement. The student's whimper at the loss of his toy quickly turned into a muffled shout as he was summarily upended, his braid left dangling against the floor beams. The borrowed hard hat fell off and clattered its way down to the ground, clanging against twelve floor's worth of steel.
It was a worthy show of brute strength and was rewarded by an inventive and motivated deep-throat. In danger of loosing his failing sense of balance, Heero turned and rested his back against the iron girder, letting the support beam prevent them from falling to an ignominious death. It wasn't easy with his jeans bunched around his ankles but he managed the maneuver with hot-blooded gracelessness.
He didn't know what had become of Duo's shirt but he resisted the urge to keep the sexy student naked and trapped on top of the half-finished structure. He yanked off the other man's minuscule shorts, revealing the incredible sight of an erect and completely hairless cock. Heero bunched the shorts safely in his left hand and wrapped both arms securely around the American's narrow waist. Unfettered, a pair of slender legs enfolded his neck, crossing comfortably behind his head.
Duo's moan reverberated most pleasingly around the foreman's engorged arousal as his shaved appendage was swallowed with satisfying zeal. Delectable drops oozed from the inverted man's smooth cock and the builder savored them like sweet nectar. The hot pressure around his own member increased as the braided man took in every impressive inch of him. Trying to ignore the attempted diversion, Heero release the throbbing shaft, turning to the tempting twin spheres hovering before his eyes. Duo cried out again, though never forsaking his own endeavors. The Japanese man sucked vigorously on the warm sacks, prompting shouts that sent tingles shooting from his cock and up his spine until he wondered how he would ever recover the use of his lust-soaked brain.
His eyes drifted up, tracking towards the tantalizing pucker of skin just below the other man's balls. It called out to him, beckoning with a siren's seductive appeal. He answered the summons with his tongue, delving deeply without warning past the ring of muscle that went taut with surprise then opened to admit his determined exploration. The screams resounding through his cock became constant, threatening his increasingly tenuous control. The sucking mouth around his arousal grew frenetic. Shivers surged through the slim, capsized body and the foreman redoubled his own exertions, his probing tongue burrowing ever deeper.
His mind lost in a sexual frenzy, some libidinous muse whispered in Heero's ear and he complied by lifting the spit-slick hammer after first grazing it over the other man's distended cheek. He extracted his tongue from the American's delectable hole, quivering at the braided man's muzzled protest. But at the next moment, Duo finally surrendered his assault on the foreman's thick cock as the coveted shaft of wood was buried in his tight passage.
"Ahh! Oh god! The hammer, yeah, fuck my ass with the hammer!"
More than happy to oblige, Heero responded to the impassioned entreaty by withdrawing the handle, watching as the greedy flesh clung to the wood as though determined not to let it go. Then, just when the rounded tip was nearly free, and the overturned student was hollering virulent curses and beseeching pleas at the impend loss of the beloved tool, Heero plunged the thick rod down, deep and fast, until the metal head burned against the trembling flesh of the long-haired man's perfect ass.
The husky shouts rang out over the site, scaring a passing bird and startling a old woman walking by many feet below. The timberous orgy continued until Duo's voice was raspy from abuse. He begged the Japanese man to fuck him with the handle as a steady stream of fluid leaked from his cock onto the builder's muscled chest. Heero watched the hammer disappear into the other man's body with rapt concentration, mesmerized by eagerness with which the insatiable opening swallowed the hard wood.
But his cock was growing cool, the evening air blowing over flesh dripping with saliva and passion. Suddenly jealous of the privileged tool, he yanked it free, causing the American to cry out in pained pleasure and disappointed deprivation. Heero ignored the vociferous objection and with a speed inspired by the throbbing ache in his gut, he spun Duo over and impaled the tormenting cock-tease on his pulsating rod.
"Fuck, yeah! Fuck, yeah!" was the extent of the braided man's ability to comment as he was slammed against the support beam. Heero rammed his aching member into Duo's searing, yielding sheath, glorying in the incredible friction that was slowly annihilating his sanity.
"Pound me with your huge cock! Your huge tool! Hammer it into my tight ass!"
The foreman mind felt no conceit at the American's fervent assurances that he was much larger than the previously popular shaft of wood. His mind was too far gone. He knew nothing but the animal urge to claim what had been so willing given to him. Ever powerful thrust of his hips proclaimed his ownership over the enticing beauty who was riding him like a prize-winning jockey on a thoroughbred stud.
Heero drove the other man into the unforgiving strut and Duo yelled encouragement for his own abuse, arms and legs gripping his violator with frantic strength.
"Drill me! Nail me! Fuck me like a jackhammer!"
The vibration traveled from beam to beam until the entire structure rang with orgiastic glee. The infant construction shuddered, threatening to collapsed under the strain. The quaking intensified until the groans of the steel drowned out the cries from above. But then a roar echoed into the blistering heat, followed by a satiated holler. Suddenly, all was quiet expect for the sounds of ragged gasps.
Heero fell to his knees, his entire body weak from the force of his release. The tight sheath was still pulsating around his softening member, the creamy proof of the braided man's enjoyment trickling over his honed stomach. He just knelt for a long moment, still encased in his new lover's warmth. The foreman held the American closely, reluctant to let go. It had been too long since he'd felt so relaxed and unencumbered, free from the demands of his job. There were no overbearing clients or griping employees. Just the gentle breeze, the whispered breath caressing his ear, and a warm body holding him with equal passion.
The stillness was broken as Duo laughed, rubbing a soothing hand over the sweat-soaked skin of Heero's back. "You know," he chuckled, "I never did get to finish my tour of the new Kushrenada creation."
Heero found the energy to meet the twinkling amethyst gaze. "Guess you'll just have to come back tomorrow." The low-voice words rumbled in his chest, causing the other man to moan. His lips were claimed in a soft kiss and the foreman felt the beginnings of a distant stirring in his lower body. But Duo abruptly broke away, his eyes stretched with dismay.
"Damn, I just remembered. I'm taking a few summer classes and they start tommorow." His lips turned down into an enticing pout. "I don't know when I'll get a chance to *come* again."
Groaning at the suggestive word play, Heero entreated Duo with his sincere gaze. "I hope you can find the time. I-I'd really love to see you again." He looked down, flushing with embarrassment at the sound of his own desperation. Certain that his pathetic appeal would turn the gorgeous man away, he blinked in pleasant confusion when another sweet kiss found his lips.
"Don't worry," Duo reassured him with a impish wink. "I'll make sure to squeeze you into my tight ... schedule."
Heero felt the smooth walls of his lover's sheath clenching possessively around his reviving cock. His groan was lost in the hollow of the Duo's neck as a wicked laugh floated out into the sultry night.