I'm sitting in my Gundam, not because Wing Zero needs much work, but
because I have to get away from Duo. He's driving me crazy. Always
moving, swaying, that braid caressing his backside like I want to
do... Fuck, I can't take it any more. I'm going to snap, and throw
him down on the floor and fuck him into next week.
Now I'm downloading some BC 1970's rock music. It suits my mood.
Helps me deal with the sexual frustration. You can only masturbate
so many times. Does that boy know what he does to me? He must
know... the way he leans over me... breathes on my neck... lets that
hair brush against me. Doesn't he see the way my fists clench so I
don't grab him and shove my tongue down his throat?
I was never taught restraint, courting, any of that bullshit that
boys are supposed to do with girls... not that it would apply
anyway. My first sexual thoughts were of boys and always have been.
Dr. J probably knew it, but he successfully avoided the subject. I
learned it all myself. The internet has many uses. So do run-down
sex clubs on L2 or whatever colony I was on. I was never short of
offers. I saw, I wanted, I took, or received, depending on what I
felt like. Sex was stress relief. Separate from work. Never mixed.
Then I met Duo. Operation Meteor, and I fell to earth. Never thought
I would fall another way. I saw him, he shot me, rescued me and
saved me. Part of my mind registered that he was incredibly sexy,
but I never mix business and pleasure. But it was too late. I knew
it was too late when I, the Perfect Soldier, felt a twinge of guilt
as I took off in my Gundam, with his stolen parts. I trained the
camera on him as I flew away. Saw his expression harden to anger and
disappointment. And I felt something. I should have self-destructed
then. Should have done my mission and flew into the sea. But I
didn't. I finally did try to self-destruct, and failed even that. I
was fucked, and I knew it.
But, good little trained soldier that I am, I kept going, tried to
go on with the mission even though I knew I was useless now.
Compromised, as my trainers would say. No longer certain of my
loyalties when it came to a critical decision. I should have turned
myself in for retraining. But I didn't. It was too late.
Now here I am. In hell. Or heaven. I'm not sure which. Or if I care.
Duo is here, and I can't have him, but at least I can see him. I'm
pathetic. I hit play, losing myself in the music. Led Zeppelin.
/Hey, hey, mama, said the way you move, gonna make you sweat, gonna
make you groove. /
The guitars and drums roll through me, soothing me. What was it
someone said about music soothing the savage beast? Well, my beast
likes this song. It reminds me of Duo. What I want to do to him.
With him. In him. Fuck.
He's here. In the hanger. And I'm not sure if I have myself under
control enough to be around him. I left because I was losing it.
It's hot here in whatever godforsaken country we're in, no climate
control, and Duo's taken to wandering around in shorts. Nothing
else. My heart pounds, sending blood to my cock, making the mask
slip a little more.
/Oh, oh, child, way you shake that thing, gonna make you burn, gonna
make you sting. /
He knows I'm here. He must. He must hear the music. I don't feel
like turning it off. He walks across the hangar floor to
Deathscythe. His skin, so much of it, shiny with sweat, tendrils of
hair that have escaped the braid plastered to his face, ass swaying
like a siren's song. I think I know how a predator feels right now,
entire being focused, tunnel vision. Duo is all that matters in the
world right now.
He must feel my eyes on him. My thoughts are so focused, so strong,
that he must feel them even across the room. My cock is rock hard,
and I can't think straight. I turn up the music louder.
/Hey, hey, baby, when you walk that way, watch your honey drip,
can't keep away./
I imagine walking up behind him and grabbing that braid, using it to
spin him around, hard against my body, ravage his mouth with mine,
take what I need. Sometimes when I'm near him I can smell him, smell
his sex, I'm sure of it. He watches me... I don't know what it
means, and if I did I don't know what I could do about it. Simple,
uncomplicated stress relief in a back room, and alley, a cheap
room... that I know. Not this. Not this need, this want, this
*feeling* he gives me. As if I fucked him a thousand times it would
never be enough. I'm not supposed to feel this way. I'm not supposed
/Ah yeah, ah yeah, ah, ah, ah. Ah yeah, ah yeah, ah, ah, ah/
Duo stretches, and I watch, and he's reaching for something. Now
he's bending over, and those shorts.... Those shorts are like a red
flag to a bull. A rutting bull. I feel myself losing it. I turn up
the music to maximum. The speaker covers rattle. I lose my mind.
/I gotta roll, can't stand still, got a flame in my heart, can't get
Duo's dancing to the music, and I'm sliding down the scaffolding,
scratching my hands, going much too fast, hitting the ground too
hard, and not caring. I scramble to my feet, stumbling across the
twenty feet of concrete that separate us. Duo hears me. He whirls
around, eyes unreadable. I stop, a foot away, breathing hard. Pulse
pounding. Cock stretching the front of my spandex, obvious. Eyes
burning. He takes it all in, stares for a long moment at the bulge
in my shorts. Smirks. Meets my eyes. I tremble, trying to keep from
/Eyes that shine burning red, dreams of you all through my head./
All I see, all I hear, all I know is Duo. Does he know my world
rests on him at this moment? From somewhere deep inside me I drag up
the strength to hold my ground.
Finally, that voice. The voice that haunts me. The voice I hear when
I come. Speaks. Hoarsely.
"What took you so long?"
I stare at him. Like I don't understand. He smirks again. Steps
forward. An inch away. Still I don't move. He leans in, closer,
closer but doesn't touch. He leaves that final inch to me. Whispers.
One word. One word that sets me free and ensnares me forever. "Yes."
/Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah.
Hey, baby, oh, baby, pretty baby, Tell me won't you you do me now. /
And I take. My hands come up, seizing his shoulders. I crush him
against me. I know he is strong, nearly as strong as me and he can
take it. Our mouths meet, lips opening, tongues clashing. Not sweet,
not romantic. Hard. Fast. Perfect.
My hands slide up as I take his mouth, tangling in that hair, that
braid that vexes me. His hands, free now to touch, slide under my
shirt seeking out skin. I drop one hand to his shorts, shoving it
roughly inside. I have to feel him. Hard flesh slides under my
fingers easily, wet and throbbing. He moans into my mouth and
thrusts against me. The music pounds on, unheard. Yes. I need this.
I've needed it for so long. I take what I need.
I pull my hand out of his shorts, and I can smell him on me, that
scent that calls me. I pull back from the kiss to lick my fingers,
tasting him. He groans and slides a hand to the front of my shorts,
caressing me through the material. I growl, and he uses both hands
to shove them off me. I use the time to pull off my shirt. I'm naked
now, and I don't care. My body needs his. Pure and simple. I look at
his shorts and he pulls them off quickly, correctly guessing they'll
be ruined if he lets me do it. Finally we're both unclothed, and our
bodies are drawn back together like magnets. I touch him,
everywhere, just like my dreams. My teeth mark his skin. Mine.
My hand travels by itself down the cleft of his ass, opening him. He
whimpers, spreading his legs apart in acceptance. My cock surges
against his. Acknowledging his surrender. Mine.
I shove my fingers into him roughly. Not too roughly. He likes it.
He gasps, pushing back on them. No words.
I can't wait. I spin him around, pushing him against a work table.
He bends over it, willingly. Spreads. Looks back at me. Smirks and
tosses me a tube of something slippery. I have no idea what it is. I
don't care. As long as it works.
I put the lube on quickly, growling when I touch myself. He watches.
Lowers his head, raises his ass. Mine.
No more waiting. I press the tip of my cock against him, looking at
him, hesitating for the first time. He looks back. He grins and
*shoves* himself back, impaling himself hard.
I freeze, my body nearly betraying me, cock buried deep inside Duo's
ass, the tight passage devouring me. He moans and wiggles, and I
grab his hips hard to hold him still. Too soon... I wait a long
moment, and he seems to understand. Our harsh panting rings out in
the empty hangar. All of OZ could be watching and I wouldn't care,
wouldn't stop, wouldn't stop; I start rocking ever so slightly
inside him. Mine.
Each time I pull out, drive in, it's harder, deeper, and Duo cries
out louder. I *knew* he would be loud. But I'm not silent either;
moaning what could be "fuck," could be "Duo," could be anything, I
increase my pace. Still gripping his hips. Hard enough to bruise.
Duo is yelling now, and so am I, as I pound into him, shaking the
table with my thrusts and how did I know it would be this good,
better than anything, ever before? Duo wants more, and I give it to
him, and he moves one hand beneath him to stroke his own cock. Yes,
yes, he tightens and screams, and I send him to nirvana with another
snap of my hips. His pulses radiate through him, and his undoing is
mine as well. I scream his name, scream it to the rafters and I
climax blindingly, unendingly. I pump Duo full and claim him, mark
him indelibly. Mine.
We slide to the cold floor together, unable to stand, unable to let
go of each other. I hold him. My voice speaks on its own. He answers
"Love you too, Heero." Mine.