disclaimer: merith does not own gundam wing.. or the boys. so sad, that....
lemon advent stories
[ anything you want ]
[ q&a on t&a ]
[ secret santa ]
[ when in rome ]
[ trimmed in black ]
pairing: heero and duo
Duo grimaced and ducked his head. "It wasn't like that... but yeah, I guess."
"Idiot," she told him and went back to slicing. "You've been living with him for what? Three years? Going together for five? Six years?" She spared him a glance. At his nod, she continued. "What makes you think he wasn't serious?"
"It wasn't so much that I didn't think he was serious," Duo fidgeted on his stool. "More like I didn't care for the way he did it all. Giving me a ring and a license for Christmas."
Hilde made a noncommittal noise as she scrapped the vegetable into a bowl. "And the subject's never come up before?"
Shaking his head, Duo reached over the counter and snagged a carrot slice. "Not really. Maybe once a few years ago..." he bit down on the carrot. "back when Relena and Wufei got married. But nothing since." He finished off the carrot. "It was so out of the blue..."
The snort had him looking up at her again. "You're being a girl, Duo Maxwell. Get over it." Hilde was moving around her efficient sized kitchen, stirring sauce in a pot, straining noodles in the sink. "What do you want? Wine, song and roses?"
"I don't know what I want." Duo lowered his head to his arms crossed on the counter top. "I just wish...."
"What the hell's that commotion?" Hilde interrupted, turning the burner off and heading for the livingroom.
Duo didn't follow but watched her look below to the street from one of the large windows in the other room.
"Duo, you have to come see this." Hilde's tone held an urgency without a hint of danger. Duo obeyed even as she slid the window open; he could hear the familiar voice before he'd crossed half way.
"Heero?" His steps faltered. "Is he... singing?" He rushed to the window. "Damn. It is him!"
From the sidewalk below, words sung in a strong voice were heard.
"Woooh! Way to sing it Heero!" Hilde shouted out the opened window.
"Cut it out, Hilde. Don't encourage him." Duo pulled her away only to take her place. Leaning far over the sill, he shouted down, "What the hell are you doing, Heero?" Without answering, Heero continued to strum on the guitar, and sing.
"You're scaring the alley cats." Passers-by were stopping to watch. A man paused long enough to toss a couple of bills in the opened case at Heero's feet; Heero's eyes didn't leave the window.
"Ah geesh," Duo muttered. He pulled back just enough to watch Hilde open the other window. "C'mon, Hil. Help me out here, would you?"
She grinned and tossed her hair back. "You wanted something more than what you got, didn't you?" She waved a hand out the window. "Well, he's giving it to you."
"But..." A very unappealing note sounded, making him turn to look back out the window. Duo groaned and covered his eyes with a hand. "You're sending pregnant women into labor!" A pair of lines from Heero's song had him lowering his hand. He blew out a breath and said in a more conversational tone, "Heero, you can't sing. So please stop."
Heero's hand dropped from the guitar, and song halted mid-note. He ducked his head through the guitar strap, lowered the instrument to the sidewalk holding it by its neck, and continued to stare up at Duo.
"What are you doing here?" Duo refused to see who else was watching; there was no one but Heero below him now.
With a half smile, Heero lifted a shoulder. "What are you doing here?" his question was quiet, but heard loud.
"Ah man," Duo raked fingers through his bangs. "I'm just...." he shrugged in return. "I don't know."
Heero drew in a deep breath, opened and closed his mouth twice before telling Duo, "I thought that's what you wanted. We don't have to do anything, change anything, if that's what you want."
"I don't..." Duo shook his head. "I don't know, Heero."
Heero's hand squeezed the guitar neck. "Then what do you want?"
As his silence stretched, the crowd that had gathered began to murmur. Hilde came to Duo's side and touched his arm. He turned from the window to give her a desperate look. With a jerk of her head, she gave him an encouraging smile. He answered with a nod and leaned back out the window.
"Wait there. I'll be right down!"
His emergence on the sidewalk was met with a smattering of applause, a few cheers, and many smiles. Duo's eyes were on one only. An arm's length away, he stopped.
Heero stood from closing his case. "What do you want?" he repeated. "Name it, and you've got it."
Shaking his head slightly, Duo took a step forward. "I... I've only ever wanted one thing." He took another step. "You. Just you." His arms closed around Heero's waist.
"You've got it. You've had me all along," Heero said into Duo's neck, his arms wrapped around his shoulders.
"Let's go home, Heero." he said, and felt Heero's answering nod.
They stepped apart just as Hilde called from above, "Duo! Your bag."
Duo's arm snapped out, and he caught the small duffle by its strap. Looking up, he flashed a smile. "Thanks, Hil. Thanks for everything."
Most of the gathered crowd had left, moving on with their own lives. And there by the curb, guitar case in one hand, Heero waited. Duo looked from the case to Heero's face. "What was with the singing act anyway?"
Heero kept his gaze steady before turning. "I knew it'd bring you outside." He snagged Duo's free hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "If only to get me to stop."
"Ah..." Duo chuckled, shaking his head. "Smart plan."
pairings: trowa, duo (friendship)
Duo sat up and tossed his magazine aside. "Hey thanks, man." He blew on the steam and took his first tentative sip. His eyes lit up slightly and he looked at Trowa over the mug's rim. "Peppermint Schnapps?"
"Yes," Trowa said, reclaiming his seat on the easy chair. He sat his own mug on the side table and picked up his book. "A little spice to cocoa makes it better."
Making an agreeable noise, Duo sipped again, and shivered against the burn on his tongue. "Still too hot though." He placed the mug on the coffee table and went back to his magazine. "I have to say thanks again, buddy. Doing time up here on my own would have had me slicing my wrists with a butter knife just for something to do."
Trowa marked his spot with a finger and glanced up at his friend. "You did sound a little desperate." His lips twitched. "And since I wasn't exactly busy..."
"Still, you could have went with Quatre and all. Despite the boredom of interstellar committee talks."
"As long as I'm home before Christmas. What about Heero? He going to make it for the last two weeks of your shift?"
Duo nodded, his eyes flicked upward and back. "Their ship's supposed to dock by the end of next week. Two days travel, and he'll be here for Christmas too." Duo turned a page and gave a low whistle.
Looking up from his book again, Trowa frowned at the cover of Duo's magazine. "What are you reading?"
"Porn." Duo smirked at him and turned another page.
"Porn... let me see." He snatched the magazine from Duo's hand and snorted. "It's a swimsuit edition. That's not porn." He smacked Duo on top his head in handing it back.
"I don't think two inch triangles placed in strategic spots keeps it from being pornography," he answered, turning pages. "Fuck me!" He sat up straight. "It's Cathy!"
"What?" Trowa grabbed for the magazine again, nearly tipping the coffee table over in the process. He stared at the woman on display, gold metallic bikini barely making her decent. His relief was immediate. "That's not Cathy."
"Looks like her. Check out those tits. I'm telling you..."
"Don't you think I'd know if it was Cathy or not?" Trowa interrupted.
Duo accepted his magazine back and blinked at Trowa a moment only before asking, "You mean you know what her tits look like?" Trowa choked on his cocoa. "Isn't she like your sister, or something?"
"Duo!" Trowa glared. At Duo's chuckle, he went back to his book, determined to not rise to the bait again. After a minute of silence, he looked up and began watching Duo again. "I didn't know you were into girl's swimsuits." He nodded at the magazine.
"Eh. Someone left it here. I'm just making use of it." Duo's lip curled and he thumped the page he was reading. "It's not bad, though. Some of the girls are pretty. But not really my thing."
"So you just like a little stimulation?"
"Something like that." He flipped another page. "Can you imagine one of these on Relena?"
Trowa looked and shook his head. "Not really. She doesn't strike me as the bikini type."
"I think she'd surprise you," Duo muttered.
"If you say so." Trowa watched Duo turn the next couple of pages before he asked, "who would you like to see in a bikini?"
Without hesitation, he answered, "Dorothy."
Trowa choked out a laugh in surprise. "Dorothy?"
"Yeah, you ever see her in a sweater?" Duo's grin melted into a frown. "Though you'd have to put a gag on her. I'd hate to hear what she'd have to say about being ogled at." He ducked his head and blew a breath. "And put her in restraints. She's dangerous around sharp objects."
"Blunt ones too," Trowa murmured. Smirking he prodded, "Gag and restraint. You into bondage?"
It was Duo's turn to choke out a laugh. "Nah, don't think Heero'd go for that kind of thing." His eyes narrowed speculatively. "You ever try it?"
"Yeah." Trowa left his answer simple. "You should bring it up with Heero again. It can be more rewarding than what you could ever imagine." He held Duo's gaze steadily.
"Sure." Duo went back to his magazine. A minute later. "Says here this one enjoys giving blow-jobs in low-grav." Trowa leaned forward to read the passage upside down. "You ever do that?"
Another glance upward, and Trowa found Duo suddenly serious, frowning at the girl's bio page. "It'd be... messy," Trowa answered after a moment of thought.
"Not if you swallowed." Duo was grinning at him. Trowa snorted and shook his head. "Do you?" He raised a brow. "Swallow, I mean."
Trowa studied him. It seemed like one of Duo's verbal games, but he sounded genuine. "Sometimes." Keeping his answer brief would be best. Duo only nodded and skimmed his magazine again. Not able to concentrate on his book any longer, Trowa set it aside and continued to study his friend. "How about you?"
"Huh?" Duo looked up. "Oh." His lips curved into a smile. "As often as I can."
"Should've known." Trowa was shaking his head again.
"What's the strangest place you've ever given a blow job?" Duo pushed the magazine away and leaned back.
"Car." Trowa's response was prompt.
Grimacing, Duo challenged, "That's not strange."
"In the Spyder? Doing one-twenty-five down Snêzka?"
Duo whistled. "That's not strange, that's suicidal."
He smirked in return. "Quatre likes the rush." Trowa shifted back in his seat, and drew a leg up. "How about you?"
"Hmmmm," Duo mused. He put his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Probably backstage during that awards ceremony." Trowa laughed. "What? Heero was really nervous, and that always calms him."
"Yeah, me too." Trowa let his gaze drift. It hadn't been all that long ago, and he could still smell the scent of pine, feel the wind rushing through his hair, taste Quatre's come in his mouth. A smile tugged, and he stood suddenly. "I think I'm going to head to bed now, give Quatre a call and see how those talks are going.
His words seemed to pull Duo from his own thoughts. His responding, "sure man. See you in the morning." carried less than the man's usual enthusiasm.
The door to his room shut behind him, he stripped, climbed between the sheets and flipped open his mobile.
pairing: heero/duo, implied quatre/trowa
Not sure what he was expecting, he lifted the small box and shook it gently. The slight rattle didn't reveal any clues. Peeling up the taped edges and crumpling the wrapper, proved the box to be one of chocolates – a fancier's chocolates.
Smiling, he looked around. No one was in sight. A secret admirer then. A tiny note stuck to the box top caused him to frown.
He hadn't signed up to participate this year. The year before, his special little gifts led to a huge misunderstanding. His surprise as the assumption, and further explanation, caused the poor girl to transfer out of the department.
Standing in his cube doorway, he surveyed the quad-pod. Phil was on vacation that week, and Teri was still in her project meeting. Heero, though, Duo could hear Heero typing away as he always did, even through lunch most times. Duo peeked into his cube just as Heero turned to stand.
Heero's eyes went from the box in Duo's hand to his face. "Good chocolates, I hear," Heero said.
"Oh," Duo said. Holding out the box, he offered, "Want some?"
"Maybe later." Heero's lip rose on one side as he stood. "Was there something else...?"
Duo shook his head. "No, nothing." He backed out of the cube and returned to his own, box still in hand.
Two days passed in which the box of chocolates sat by his stapler before he finally opened it and ate a chocolate. No other secret santa gifts had been received in the meantime.
The week before Christmas was busy only to those planning on taking a long holiday. Duo wasn't, and settled back for two weeks of minimal staff, no project meetings, and silence from a good majority of his clients. Most people had it wrong, according to Duo. Christmas time was the time to work, because it was the most relaxing time at work.
He had nearly forgotten how days before there'd appeared a mysterious box of chocolates, but returning from a trip to the printer, and a stop for a quick chat with the admin, he remembered all too readily. Another small brightly wrapped "gift" perched on his keyboard.
As it was last time, no one was around, and the note attached simply stated it was from his secret santa. He pulled on the ribbon, opening the wrap from the package, and stared at the collection of hair ties. They were the same type and brand he purchased for his hair.
"Hey," Heero called from his cube doorway.
Duo turned and looked up from the pack still nestled in its festive wrap and ribbon. Heero nodded to his hand and said, "those should come in handy."
"Yeah." Duo looked at the package again and glanced sharply at Heero, but the man had already moved on. Tossing the bundle on his desk, Duo headed out of his cube himself. He stood watching Heero for a moment and looked back at the package of hair ties.
Giving a mock knock on the fabric side of Heero's cube, Duo called out softly, "Hey Heero." The man spun around in his chair and looked up at him. "If you don't have any plans, there's a new sandwich shop that opened up off Maple. Wanna try it out with me?"
Heero's mouth opened, and Duo knew he was about to refuse. Heero always turned his invites down. This time, though, Heero paused in his answer. The man closed his mouth, and gave Duo a sharp nod. "Eleven-thirty too early? I have a one o'clock call I need to be back for."
"Eleven-thirty works." Duo smiled. Heero wasn't a bad guy, just too darned focus on work all the time. "I can drive, if you want."
Another nod. "This time."
It was several minutes later Heero's last words caught up to Duo. And maybe it was a good thing he wasn't busy; he spent the hour left before lunch staring at the wall separating him from Heero.
Another day, another secret santa gift. This time it was a pair of tickets to a movie scheduled to open that weekend. After lunch the day before, Heero was his likely choice to ask and he did. This time he wasn't surprised when his offer was accepted.
The weekend passed, and Monday rolled around. Three days before Christmas, and the office was a ghost town. In their little quadrant, of the forty or so bodies that normally occupied the area, five were left to keep order. Duo was inordinately happy to find Heero to be one of the five. Their trip to the movie had gone well, and after, they'd grabbed a bite. Duo learned more about the man he thought he knew in a single night than he had in the two years he'd actually known Heero.
The next wrapped gift had him missing his seat and landing on the floor when he went to sit. The small bottle of personal lubricant rolled off his desk and landed next to him. The sound of Heero moving, along with his concerned inquiry, had Duo scrambling to hide the latest gift.
"Yeah, my chair moved," he answered without batting an eye. Heero eyed him still sitting on the floor, but nodded. Duo didn't miss the shift in his gaze to the discarded wrapping paper on his desk. But Heero didn't say anything. Only when he heard Heero sit and begin to type did Duo pull himself upright. And uncurl his hand from the small bottle.
Heero was gay or at least bi-sexual. That much he'd learned during their talk after the movie. The whole floor knew he, Duo, was gay. That had been the whole issue behind the misunderstanding from the previous year. And Duo was sure Heero had overheard more than one conversation he'd had on the phone; the cube walls weren't that thick.
Putting the bottle away, Duo spent the rest of the afternoon wondering just what the bottle meant.
The following day, the wrapped gift placed on his chair turned out to be a three-pack of condoms.
There was no misunderstanding in what his secret santa wanted. Now, for the person – guy – to reveal themself.
Christmas eve afternoon found Heero hesitating outside a door. Not that he had anything else to do, since the office shut down at noon, and his plans to meet up with a friend for Christmas fell through. But this was something all together. He stared at the room key in his hand and took a deep breath before inserting it into the slot.
It had started two weeks prior. Little gifts had began to appear on his desk, usually before he arrived in the morning, but sometimes while he was away – at the printer, to the mens room, at the cafeteria. Most of the gifts were just that, small, inexpensive, not too personal. His favorite gel writer one day, a particular shade of blue post-it notes the next.
At first, he hadn't an idea on who his Secret Santa was, but he had his suspicions. The desk calendar full of daily innuendo and double entendres added fuel to those suspicions. Being asked to lunch and then the movies about confirmed it. This latest "gift" was a bit of a shocker, though there was no denying the excitement that built as the hours past. On his return from getting a cup of coffee, a simple Christmas card waited for him with a time next to the name and room number of a nice hotel downtown, card key tucked inside.
Duo's smirk and parting shot for the day of "see you later" clenched who his Secret Santa was.
Down in the lobby, a man peered over the top of his newspaper, watching the elevator doors intently. He'd been there for some time; not once had he turned a page; not once had he moved from his position.
"Quatre," the man slouched on the lobby sofa next to him started. "They're both upstairs, now. Nothing more you're going to be able to do – it's up to them and nature to take over."
"I know, Trowa. I just want to make sure." Quatre lowered his paper only long enough to look at him. "Heero just went up. If he doesn't come back down – or Duo doesn't – in the next five minutes, then I'd say it's a success."
Trowa glanced at the elevator doors and sighed. Five minutes. "Your work is done, Suzy Matchmaker. Time to go home."
"That's Suzy Homemaker, and I've still got another four minutes." Quatre's paper was back in place.
"Same thing," Trowa muttered. Sliding closer, he leaned against his lover's shoulder and brought his lips up close to his ear. "If you give up now and come home, I'll let you be Santa." Quatre turned sharply to look at him. "And I'll be the little boy." Quatre licked his lips and lowered his paper. "The bad little boy.
Jumping to his feet and tossing his paper on a near-by table, Quatre commanded the now fallen over Trowa, "What are you waiting for? It's Christmas Eve and we should be at home!"
"Hmmm," he murmured, his eyes remained shut but the pads of his fingers pressed into the small of her back. "No need to move. And it's cold outside."
"You're stomach is growling, and you need food." She sat up, letting the sheet fall from her nude form. "There's still some stuff left in that food basket Duo gave us," she mused even as she moved to straddle hips. His stomach growled again. With a half laugh, she stretched out, snagged the basket and brought it up on the bed. "A few crackers, some of that canned cheese crap, and... Grapes!" The bunch was in one hand and she plucked one off to pop into her mouth.
"I thought you were going to feed me." He had one eye opened, watching her bite down on the fruit. He shifted his hips, bouncing her on his lap, and shoved another pillow behind his head. "I'm the one who's hungry."
Instead of replying, she plucked another grape and popped it into her mouth. Only instead of biting down on it, she leaned forward, gave him an open mouth kiss and passed him the grape. He crushed it between his teeth, humming appreciatively in his throat and opened his mouth to share the grape's juice with her.
Leaning back, she picked another grape and dropped it into his open mouth, laughing as he caught it on his tongue and rolled it back. Taking the last grape, she teased his lips with it, rolling its smooth skin over them and down over his chin. She danced a trail down his chest and nestled it in his bellybutton. As he watched her, she bent over, coaxed the fruit from its spot with her tongue, and ate it. His shiver under her left her wanting to smile.
"We're out of grapes," she announced, poking into the basket again.
His hands rubbed on her thighs, his eyes watched the subtle play of muscle under her skin as she moved, the curve of a breast, and the blue line of vein running down the inside of her arm. He liked the feel of her on top of him; the tensing as her thighs clamped together, the brush of her pubic hair on his skin, of round softness of her buttocks.
"How about some of that cheese stuff, then? On a cracker?"
The wrinkling of her nose was cute. "Not that stuff. It'll kill you."
"Worst than starving to death?" he asked with a chuckle. "What's it do? Make my tummy ache?"
"Just sit back, and I'll show you." Her lips curved up in a smirk as she reached for the can.
"All right," he said putting both hands behind his head, offering up his body to whatever she wanted.
She popped the cap off and tossed it over her shoulder. "From the moment it touches your lips," the plastic tip was inserted into his mouth, "it begins its work of breaking your cells down." A small dab of processed imitation cheese was squirted on his tongue.
"Once you swallow," the white applicator bumped down over his chin and rested at his neck, "it plants its chemicals on your throat," a thin line of orange-yellow appeared as she drew the can down his neck, "to your esophagus," a horizontal line crossed the other, "and enters your stomach, getting squirted by bile from your gall bladder to attack those nasty fat cells." A large, near circle was made for his stomach; a tiny loop off center from the top near the flat line represented the gland.
"Here," she said, her lower lip disappeared between her teeth as she fought the grin. "It sits like a rock until the acid pool and enzymes breaks it down," her fingers smeared an amount over the lower half of the stomach circle, "to be passed into your intestines." Her lines down became spotty, in semi-curves. "And last it comes out," her hand reached around behind her, between his legs.
"You put that where it doesn't belong," he said, giving her a challenging smile. "And I'll show you attack and breakdown."
Her eyes narrowed in consideration and then she smiled bringing her hand back around. "It was empty anyway," she told him and tossed the can over her shoulder to join its cap. "So now that we have nothing to eat, I insist we leave the room." She dragged a finger through the lines she'd made, proving how spreadable the cracker topping was.
"But I'm a mess," he protested and brought his hand back to her thighs. He slid them up to her hips, his fingers kneading the flesh of her buttocks.
Giving him a sly smile, she tilted her head to the side and looked pointedly at a partly opened door. "If we hurry, we can catch the Pope's mass." She stretched out over him, and kissed his lips. "Why come to Rome at Christmas if not to listen."
"We can watch it on TV," he murmured adjusting his angle, touching her, stroking her. "I'd much rather watch how you handle a joystick at the moment."
She shivered slightly, rising up just enough to help him guide it in. "And demonstrations for the past couple of days haven't been enough?"
"Never," he gasped out as she began to move. "Tell me, tell me how you fly, pilot."
"Your grip," she began and drew herself upright. "must be sure and strong, but not too tight." He arched up in a shallow thrust as her grip tightened in a firm grasp. "Steady control is a must in maintaining proper pace," her rise and fall was timed with precision, "for each maneuver the craft is capable of."
A fine sheen glistened on her forehead, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted. Her hands held herself in balance braced on his arms; her breasts and stomach were smeared in cheese. He tightened his hold on her, and rolled them suddenly, a momentary pause in flight.
At her unasked question, he answered even as he shouldered a leg, and picked up the pace. "I'm a selfish bastard and like to bring my stick in for the landing."
She laughed between minute cries of pleasure; thoughts of hunger, cheese wiz schemes, attending mass, or of being in Rome for the holidays the furthest from her mind.
"Want me put your things away while I'm at it?" Duo was standing at his side, interrupting his flow of thinking.
"I've already hung them up," Heero paused in his review of assignment notes.
A simple sweep of his hand, Duo pointed out the obvious. "The ECO conference is scheduled for ten days. We're going to be here for a while. Let's at least use what this suite has to offer." Heero's small suitcase was still parked by the door where he left it.
Giving a slight shrug, Heero told him, "All right, if will make you happy." It wouldn't hurt, and would keep the room clutter to a minimum.
Duo snorted as he turned. "Making me happy isn't working from Christmas through New Year's. This," he heaved Heero's carry on bag up on the mattress, "will just keep me from tripping over your stuff coming and going."
Heero didn't answer; he had already gone back to the file, and the photographs it contained.
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
The odd quality of Duo's voice registered but it wasn't until he dropped a small, gold colored bag on top of his file that he paid attention. Heero blinked at it and looked up at Duo. "What is that?"
"Found it," he announced, a smile twitched on his lips. "I think some young lady's going to be very upset when she finds she didn't pack her little gift."
Eyeing it with a frown, Heero pushed it off his file with his pen. "Turn it in at the front desk."
"Aren't you even curious on what's in it?"
"No." Heero continued to enter the latest data. "Weren't you going to go check on the monitoring equipment?" He strove to keep the impatience from his voice.
"Yeah, whatever." Heero heard Duo moving about. "I'll set up the cameras tomorrow. For now, I'll just leave 'em here."
It wasn't until after the door had been shut that Heero stopped typing. He stared at the door for a moment and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long, long two weeks.
"Why Duo," Heero whispered in the empty room. He stood and went to make sure the door was locked. A stop in the restroom, and he splashed cold water on his face. He watched the water swirl down the drain before turning it off. There was work to do.
The bag was still on the table. Whatever it contained had excited Duo to some degree. Heero approached it slowly, a slight frown to his brows. A tag on the side simply stated â€“ Merry Christmas Love. Heero peered inside and took a quick step back. Lady's underwear. He leaned closer, and reached in, taking the pair out.
Red, and soft. silk he thought. He fingered the black lace trimmed edges. No! Shoving them back in the bag, he pushed it to the far end of the table and went back to work.
A minute later, he was staring at the bag and bit the inside of his lip. He could look at them. There was no harm in that. In a moment, he held them again. So soft. The price tag still dangled from its band. They'd been purchased from a boutique inside the hotel. Heero bit his lip again, his eyes flicking to the door. Duo would be gone for some minutes yet.
Quickly, not wasting any more time, he kicked off his shoes and shed his pants and boxers. The panties slid up and over his legs in a soothing smoothness, making him half-hard imagining how they'd feel pressed up against him, encasing his cock. With a slight snap, they were in place and Heero closed his eyes with a shudder.
They were perfect.
He had to see how they looked. Next to Duo's bed, the room's closet had mirrored doors. Heero held his shirt up; the mirror reflected how taut the material was over his cock, how the black lace stood out against his skin, how the red shined in the light. His moan was low and guttural. Turning sideways, he stuck out a hip and shivered at the feel of silk clinging to his buttocks.
Sitting on the edge of Duo's bed, he unbuttoned the bottom three, and parted his shirt. His eyes were glued to the small strip of cloth, strained at confining his balls. He fingered them through the fabric; the insides of his thighs quivered and he brought his legs up, putting his still socked feet on the bed's edge.
His fingers brushed at the edge of his thighs, and glided over his buttocks. The need, the desire was there, strong and heavy. Heero pressed his palm against the bulge, giving it a slight rub. He didn't have time to jerk off. Duo would return soon.
In a compact room, ten floors below, Duo added the last cable and tested the monitors. All three flipped to life. All three gave him different angles of Heero first stripping, and then pulling on the pair of panties from the bag. Duo checked the lock on the door and relaxed. No evidence would remain of this very private showing; the cameras had been set up on direct feed, and not yet attached to recording equipment.
Heero's moan went right to his groin. Duo rubbed on the bulge that'd been growing as each minute passed. Closing his eyes, Duo's sigh was more of a groan. Heero would kill him if he knew Duo was watching. And though the temptation was there, Duo didn't want to see Heero continue, not without him being in the same room. He reached for the feed receiver and stopped short. Heero had called his name.
"I'm back," Duo announced, closing the room door behind him. From where he stood, he could see Heero was back at work; his break forgotten. "Did you miss me?" He was smiling.
Heero didn't look up. "I was prostrate with grief." His cock was still hard, and the sound of Duo's voice vibrated against it. Heero shifted in his seat and opened the next file. It was going to be a long two weeks.
"What happened to the panties?"
He stopped breathing. "I took them to the front desk." It wasn't a lie. He planned to do so once he replaced them.
Duo was moving around behind him, but Heero didn't dare turn to watch. He wanted to be finished with these profiles. He wanted to take a shower, a long shower where relief could be achieved.
The presence was felt, a warmth at his back even before an arm dropped on his shoulder, and a hand was dangling something...
"Merry Christmas, love," Duo whispered from behind him, his mouth barely touching his ear.
Heero stared at the panties. These were not red with lacy black trim. These were blue. And cotton. And ones he thought he'd lost weeks ago. His body wouldn't move, his mouth couldn't speak. Duo nibbled on an earlobe.
"Duo, I..." Heero stammered. "It's not really..." and stalled, "I can..." With a firm hand, Duo stroked his chest. Heero cocked his head to the side. "Love?"
Backing away, Duo nodded. He was smiling, something soft, almost gentle. And he was hooking a chair with a foot and pulling it closer. He sat to the side of Heero, and Heero watched Duo watch him; Heero's panties still in Duo's hand.
"How..." Heero drew in a deep breath, stilling quaking nerves. "How did you know?"
"I found these," Duo displayed the blue cotton again, "in your gym bag." He rubbed at his forehead. "I wasn't sure, but thought maybe. So I ..." He faced Heero once more. "I bought those panties. Planted them here and watched you."
Heero frowned. "Watched me...?" his eyes went to the equipment left in various places. "You set me up?"
"I didn't know what you'd do," Duo confessed. "Mostly I just thought you'd still be sitting here typing away."
His embarrassment was dying, his anger nearly non-existent. His fetish he knew would be found out one day, but had hoped... "It doesn't bother you?"
Duo was shaking his head. "It did a little, at first. But tonight, watching you." his inhale was shaky. "It was like watching a whole new you." Duo's eyes darted over Heero's face. "Someone who wasn't afraid to show how passionate he is; someone who didn't have to be a Gundam Pilot, Preventer Agent extraordinaire, savior of the world." Duo's hand was on Heero's thigh.
"I didn't want you to know." Heero turned away.
"I have something I didn't want you to know, too." Duo tapped his fingers on Heero's leg. "How do you tell your best friend you want to be more than best friends without losing what you have with him?" Duo's voice had lowered, almost too soft for Heero to hear.
He closed his eyes. "How do you tell your best friend you like the way women's underwear feels? That seeing your..." Heero tossed Duo a quick look. "Seeing how tight it fits excites you."
"How do you let your friend know how much you want to kiss him? Want to hold him?"
Heero turned in his chair and leaned forward. "How do you tell your friend you want to show off for him? Let him touch you and that thought," Heero shivered suddenly, "excites him more than anything."
And Duo was jerking Heero forward, bumping noses, splitting his lip. Their first kiss was brief; both pulled back enough to watch the other. Heero touched his tongue to the cut on his lip.
"Sorry 'bout that."
"Kiss it better?" Heero asked, and did a little pulling of his own. Duo had released his panties, and they landed in his lap. He'd have to model them later, but for now, he had a kiss to take.
Two weeks wasn't going to be long enough.
He nuzzled into his pillow a little more snugly. Full body length, his legs wrapped round the pillow, his heat radiated back. His ear itched, but he was far too content at the moment to scratch. It didn't keep his nose from scrunching or his brow from furrowing. The soft, rhythmic thrum under his ear sped up, and his pillow bounced a little. His fingers closed around a small amount and he pinched.
The band at his back moved. And he smiled at the muffled swat on his buttocks. The hand soothed any imagined harm done. He angled his face downward, without opening his eyes, and pressed dry lips to skin.
"Merry Christmas," Trowa's voice murmured from above.
"hmmm..." he hummed softly. His thighs squeezed around the leg they held to still it's movement. "Hold still. Sleeping."
Trowa's laugh vibrated under his ear in a pleasant rumble. "Time to get up. Things to do, people to see."
"Later," he mumbled, letting his hand drift where it would.
A quick suck in of air, and Trowa was speaking again. "I thought you were sleeping."
His light strokes became serious. "But you wanted to get up." One eye opened and he peeked upward. "Unless you have other people to do...?"
The fingers of Trowa's hand dug into the small of his back, drawing him impossibly closer. Grinding his groin into Trowa's hip, he let him know just how up he was. Lips on skin, he trailed his way up; Trowa's lip was giving between his teeth, and his hand squeezed tighter in its upward stroke. Trowa's eyes fluttered and he moaned.
He wasn't going to kiss him just yet, but the sound spurred him into action. Even as his hand sped faster, his mouth closed over Trowa's. He shifted to Trowa's side as Trowa drew his legs up, bending the knees, and began to thrust into his hand. His tongue stroked the roof of Trowa's mouth with his rhythm; Trowa's nails bit into the fleshiness of his buttock.
Trowa ripped his mouth away, and arched up, his head tilted back with lips parted wide releasing several gasping moans. His hand slowed and stopped as liquid, hot, thick and fragrant, spilled over his hand in shallow bursts. He watched Trowa's expression, seemingly wretched with great pain. And as it relaxed into a pleasantly sated look. When Trowa's eyes opened, he brought his hand up, and licked the backs of his fingers, watching Trowa, watching the desire rekindle. His hand clean, he leaned forward, kissed his lips and Trowa's tongue was plunging into his mouth.
A moment later, he pulled away, giving Trowa's lips one last lick. "Time to get up." He grinned softly. "People to see and all that."
"Quatre..." Trowa growled.
Collapsing back onto Trowa's chest, he snuggled on his pillow. "Merry Christmas, Trowa."
"What about..." Trowa's hand slid around his hip, ghosted over his erection.
"hmmm..." he hummed again. "It'll give you something to think about, later." He nipped lightly at the flesh under his mouth, and soothed the sting with his tongue. "And how you'd like to satisfy me."
Trowa shivered underneath him. "I like that plan..." Trowa shifted, wrapped his other arm around him. "Maybe no one would notice if we slipped away... two or three times."
His chuckle tickled Trowa and he rose upon his elbows. "That sounds like a better plan." And he kissed him.
He heard the girl gasped even as he felt the jolt. His grip faltered, and his blue-bar report skidded over the carpet, unfurling itself in banner style. Crouched in a squat, balancing his other items on one knee, Wufei turned a glare in her direction.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" the second year intern exclaimed. She bent to pick up some of his lost papers and dropped some of her own.
"Stop that this instant," he commanded. He relented seeing her lip begin to tremble. "Here." He thrust her print outs at her. "Let me take care of my own."
"Thank you." The girl rose and stood hesitating a moment before rushing off down the hallway.
Wufei watched her retreat. Nice legs. He shook his head and began arranging his report back into its fanfold neatness. He had business to take care of.
At the Level two's office door, he palmed the knob and gave it a twist. It didn't budge. Releasing the knob, he frowned at the door. Why is Heero's door closed in the first place? About to knock, he heard it. Strange music seeped through the door. Shaking his head, he turned away. It wasn't as though his business were that urgent, even if he wanted to finish the analysis and turn the project over to the PMO.
Casting a glance over his shoulder, he muttered, "music?" and shook his head again.
Behind the locked door, two sets of eyes turned away from the door and back to one another. A pair of lips curved into a smile, wicked as a baby is innocent.
"Where were we again?" His hands clutched shoulders and he gasped aloud. "Oh, yeah..." The chair under them creaked in protest. "You were dri~ ving the point~ on how this...." his eyelids fluttered briefly and his nails dug into fabric "song has a better be~at ... god damn, Heero!" he gasped again.
Giving another lick at the exposed circle of darken flesh, Heero thrust upward again, hands holding hips steady in their support. "Told you this one would work" His motions were keeping time to the beat, the rocking creak of his chair added to the chorus.
"I choose the song tomorrow," Duo said. His eyes widened and he gasped out a curse.
Heero smirked. "Silent Night?" His foot slipped off the corner of the desk and the chair skidded over the floor.
"Better 'n Deck the balls." Duo shifted, adjusted his seat.
Finding his rhythm again, Heero murmured in Duo's ear, "I'll settle for 'oh come all yea faithful'."
"Pa rum pum pum pum, baby."
Wufei tossed his armload on his desk; he'd ran into Quatre and Trowa on his return, and now were waiting to head out for lunch.
It wasn't until they were leaving the building, and passed a festive trio of carolers in the atrium that Wufei remembered. "Do either of you know why Yuy is playing Christmas music in his office?"
"Meeting with Duo," Quatre supplied, wrapping his scarf a little more firmly.
He and Maxwell are choosing song selections for the holiday party this Saturday," Trowa confirmed, pulling his gloves on.
Wufei snorted. "Those two in charge of the music?" It began to snow, and he chuckled. "Frosty the Snowman." And shook his head.
pairing: relena, zechs
His steps were silent as he neared and he saw them reflected in the glass before she realized he was behind her and brushed them away. He hesitated a moment and changed his trajectory and settled back on the couch instead.
"Did your meeting go well?" He didn't watch her move away from the window, but instead brushed non-existence lint from his dinner jacket.
"It went well enough." Her voice was soft, but lacked its normally lively tones. "And dinner? How is Lu?"
She had taken a seat in one of the chairs closer to the fireplace, and its light cast a golden tint on her face. With her blonde hair's coiffured height, he could believe in angels. He ran his hand through his own hair, shaking out its length, feeling the dampness that still lingered from melted snow.
"Lu is doing well. She asked me to pass on her best to you, and she's looking forward to Thursday." He hoped his smile would bring one from her, but she only nodded and turned her eyes away. She was frowning, studying the exaggeratedly expensive tree with its many decorations, frills, lights and bows. "How did the meeting really go?" he asked again keeping his pitch low.
Her look was quick; her breath in, sharp. "It was fine..." at his shaking head, she stopped and sighed. She tilted her head and gazed at the ceiling, her hands squeezing the other in her lap. "I've failed them." Firelight glinted off a single tear and she brushed it away with a fast hand. "They are already talking of war, and armaments building." When she turned back to him, he could see the checked tears.
"Then its not your failure. Not if you tried to dissuade the legislature." He pulled his handkerchief from a pocket and passed it to her without commenting.
"But, it's not what father wanted." She dabbed at her eyes, held the cloth to her nose for a moment. "I tried so hard, and here's another Christmas embroiled in talk of war and fighting." The tiny sob she muffled with his handkerchief.
He was on his knees at her chair in a moment. His aborted hug became a hand patting her shoulder. "You're just tired. A good night's rest, and you'll be fine in the morning." She sniffed loudly, still holding his handkerchief to her eyes.
Though she shook her head, she drew a deep breath and straightened. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes and pulling away from him slightly. "It will be better in the morning." He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. About to say something placating, the words froze on his lips - she was frowning at the tree again.
"Relena?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. Nothing appeared remiss.
"I hate it, you know."
His head whipped around, sending his hair flying. "Hate... what?" She was still glaring at the tree.
Instead of answering immediately, she pressed the handkerchief an eye. "I believe I am tired. It shouldn't bother me..." she gave a little laugh that ended in a choked off sob.
"Relena," he began, rising just enough to push her legs over and sit on the arm of the chair next to her. "Do tell me what is wrong."
"The tree!" She clenched the handkerchief in both her hands tightly. "Why does it have to look like we bought it packaged from a store?"
He raised his hand to carefully stroke her hair, and staring at the tree, tried to see it through her eyes. "What do you want it to look like?" He was frowning; decorated trees were not really something he thought about.
"I don't know," she said, shifting in the chair, making more room for him. "Something more normal... something..." She cocked her head and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. "What's Lu's tree look like?"
"Are you trying to tell me Lu's more normal?" he laughed, but looked back at the tree. "She has a small thing, something that fits on a tabletop with a little string of lights, and a handful of ornaments."
When he looked at her, he was surprised; her expression was almost wonderment, certainly curiosity. And at the very least, she wasn't thinking of her meeting any longer. A smile curved his lips and he snapped his fingers.
"I'll tell you what we're going to do." He slid out from under her and stood. "You start taking some of these things off the tree, and I'll find a few things to replace them."
Relena smiled in return and nodded quickly. He hadn't left the room yet, and already she was pulling glass balls and crystal icicles from limbs.
An hour later, he looked up to catch Relena watching him. He cocked an eyebrow at her and she chuckled.
"I never thought you even knew how to thread a needle, let alone how to use one." Relena was smiling even as she made another snip in tissue she held.
Sniffing and turning up his nose, he told her in his most regal tone, "I'll have you know that the best cadets all knew how to sew on a button." At her laugh, he smiled. He reached for a small handful of popcorn and his eyes tracked a flying snippet of paper. "You're pretty good with a pair of scissors, yourself."
"I'll have you know," she imitated his sniff and tone, "all the finest bred young ladies knew how to make paper dolls."
He shook his head with a short laugh and looked at their tree. Its nearly bare branches held an attraction that had nothing to do with the glittering finery that had adorned it a short time before. Relena leaned forward, looking over his shoulder at the long string coiled at his side. He sat at her feet, with his back against her chair, his dinner jacket now removed, his shirt-sleeves rolled up with his tie long discarded, and his legs stretched out straight.
"It looks almost long enough now," she said from just above his ear. He caught her looking and measured the length with his eyes. "How did you know how to do this?"
His needle pierced through a berry and he slid it down the thick strand before answering. It'd been in his other life, two life-times ago. "When I was very small," he said carefully, "mother would make up a special tree in the nursery, and we would string popcorn and cranberries together for garland." He leaned briefly against her knee. She had been too young to remember; too young to experience what their mother had taught. He was surprised to feel her hand in his hair.
"I am a disappointment to them," Relena's voice was very small. "They were expecting me to keep this peace and I've let them down." He added more popcorn, his eyes flicked her way and back. "Peace was there yesterday, and will be gone tomorrow." He could hear the wavering was back in her voice.
"Since when did you change your name to Atlas?" he asked, frowning as the berry split open on his needle. He wiped his fingers on the discarded handkerchief and fished out another berry. "Mankind has always been in unrest." The berry slid down the string and this strand of garland nearly complete. "If you believe you can change that in less than a year's time," his eyes flicked up to her again, "you have a bigger ego than Treize ever had."
"But the people want peace! And they're making war..." She let out a little huff of air.
"What was it that my old Academy professor used to say?" He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "Ah yes - you can only drink the ocean one glass at a time."
Her brow scrunched and he smirked at her. "But why would anyone want to drink the ocean?"
He nodded solemnly. "Exactly." Tying off the garland strand, he brushed bits and pieces of popcorn from his pants and stood. "Ready for the final touches?" He held his hand out for her, and together they strung their garland around the tree.
In the light from the fire, small flakes of glitter gleamed in her hair, on her cheeks and on her hands. For a moment, he could believe he was four again. He shook his head and hung one of her snowflakes on a tall branch. She wasn't an angel, and she certainly wasn't his mother. She might hold more responsibility than any one person should have, let alone one as young as she was, but he believed she would find her future. At her delighted laugh and clap of hands, he turned to smile down at his sister.
The slight sound of deep breathing had him turning his head. He felt the tension ease away and even the tiniest of smiles begin. It was Heero, and he stayed the night. Duo let his fingers drift along Heero's side, over the hip jutting out from the sheet. Heero's body radiated heat, though nude and barely covered.
Duo slid closer, pressing his body against Heero's and leaning up on one arm. And Heero still slept. His hand was traveling back up Heero's side when he kissed his back where the shoulder blade angled outward. Warmth passed through thin skin and sensitive flesh. Duo shifted higher, lips to the top of Heero's shoulder blade, and he felt him waking under his hand.
A pleasant drowsy grumble and Heero tilted his head back, his hair tickled Duo's cheek. Heero's eyes were slitted open, just enough to let the light gleam and Duo kissed him. Heero's mouth was warmer than his back, soft almost plush and it moved with his. Duo's hand slipped under the sheet, tracing the bony edge of Heero's pelvis; Duo's tongue stroked the roof of Heero's mouth in just that place, the one that had him shiver.
Heero had worked an arm out from between them, circled Duo's neck, partly pulling him over, partly holding him close. As Heero's body turned to meet Duo's hand, Duo shifted, and rolled himself over Heero. He pulled back to press his lips to the corner of Heero's mouth, to the tip of his chin and back to his mouth once again; Heero's legs drew up, parted to each side of Duo.
The slow slid was made easy, Heero still slick from the scant hours before. Words were spoken in fingertip touches, soft moans, and loud gasps. A kiss to the mouth, a nip on a neck, nails in firm flesh and a steady rocking; the headboard thumped the wall in rhythmic beat.
His only warning, Heero's muscles clamped down and Duo's vision went white. Heero was kissing his neck, his fingers running in parallel lines on both sides of his back through sweat gone cold. He forced himself to rise up some, off of Heero and wished the sheet still covered them; the air closed in on the gap, chilling heated skin.
"Couldn't sleep?" Heero was half smirking, but his eyes were searching his face, looking for clues of some other malady.
Giving a half smile of his own, Duo lifted a shoulder. "I woke up and you were there."
Heero made an agreeable noise, his hands came to a stop just where Duo's buttocks began. "Is this going to be a frequent occurrence whenever I stay over?"
The light was gone in an instant, the motion sensor hadn't detected additional movement. Duo's eyes cut over to the window and back. "Could be, or..." he gave a slight smirk, "you could wake me up."
With a nod in agreement, Heero gave his hips a buck. "Off now," he said raising himself upward.
Duo slid out, and rolled over to the side. His slight frown shifted to a grin as Heero slipped of the bed. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked; Heero wasn't heading for the bathroom as expected.
"Kitchen," Heero called over his shoulder leaving the room, naked.
"What the..." Duo muttered but followed Heero moments later. And there he was, small saucepan in one hand, and a carton of milk in the other. Duo leaned against the sink to watch. "Heero?"
The pan was set on the burner and the carton put away before Heero came to stand before him. He uncrossed Duo's arms and pressed his way close. "I had thought," he said ghosting a kiss on Duo's lips, "making some hot chocolate would either make us," Duo smiled at the implied - you, "sleep." Heero kissed him again. "And if that didn't work, the chocolate would provide energy if either of us woke."
Duo's laugh was swallowed by Heero's kiss, and his body warmed by Heero's touch. Duo ran his hands down Heero's sides. Heero was here, and that was good.
pairings: none, really - but some faint hints and lots of friendships
...suit was sealed. He was ready to exit the ship; repairs were waiting, and... Quatre rounded the building corner, turned the page, and ran into something soft - but hard - knocking him back and dropping his book. He jerked his head up even as the boy was apologizing.
"No, I was, uh..." Quatre flushed and bent to pick up his book. The boy reached it before him and held it out.
"Nigel Weller!" the boy exclaimed and pulled the book closer. "I was just looking for the first book of this series in the library." He grimaced. "Some jerk-off has all five checked out and hasn't returned them yet."
Quatre's flush deepened. "Well, uh... I would be that jerk-off." The boy looked at him, his own cheeks beginning to stain. "But I have them in my backpack. I could loan it to you, if you'd like?" he offered and then said suddenly, "You're that whiz kid in Maths Wufei wouldn't shut up about during third period!"
The boy's thumb ran over the edge of the book's cover, straightening the tendency of it to curb upward. "I have Maths during second period."
"I'm Quatre," he said smiling.
"Trowa," the boy said with a nod. He held up the book. "You have the others? I was hoping to have something to read this weekend..."
"Come with me and I'll share them!" Quatre jerked his head toward the glass door ahead. "I was going to lunch on the grass."
After a glance back at the library doors, Trowa nodded. "Sure."
Quatre led the way through the history overflow trailers, past the Shop class and up a short hill. Taking his pack from his shoulders, he dropped to the ground and sat cross-legged on the grass next to a tree. "I'm nearly done with the fifth book, but brought the rest just in case we had a free period." His pack was open and he took out his lunch, setting it aside to dig down deeper. "Here." He handed the first book to Trowa and reached down inside for the others.
"Thanks." Trowa sat close-by and tossed the first book near Quatre's lunch. "I've read his "Infinity" series and had just started the "Inverted" series when we moved." He frowned down at the book he now held.
"Infinity was good, but too detailed," Quatre said and pulled a handful of paperbacks from the pack. "Inverted has more action and you can really get into Jack's character more." His eyes fell on the first book's cover and he blanched. The cover art was most definitely not from Inverted, and he knew for certain Eternal Love Pirate was not one of Weller's works. With a quick look in Trowa's direction, he shoved the book back in his pack. He must have picked up one of his sister's books.
"But the details were great!" Trowa's eyes lit up, and he flipped about mid-way through the book. "The fighting machines he described – I could just picture them. And living in space."
Quatre watched him stretch out and begin to read. Giving a little shrug, he opened his book, his drink and reached for his sandwich. Trowa didn't appear to be eating. "I could see building up space stations to support potential mining of minerals from asteroids, but to actually live in space..." he shook his head.
"Duo, if you'd just wait a minute, I'll pull your notes out." Quatre turned his head to watch his two friends walk up the hill; Duo behind Heero with his hand stuck down inside Heero's pack.
"But if it's not there, I want to go grab... got it!" He stepped back and waved a handful of loose papers.
Heero threw him a glare, glanced in Trowa's direction and took a seat on the grass across from Quatre. "I told you I picked them up for you." A paper sack was produced, and a sandwich pulled from its interior.
Throwing himself on the ground next to Heero, and giving a nod to Trowa, Duo dragged Heero's pack closer. "But I really need to study, man. Didn't get the chance last night and if I don't pass this test, Baily's going to fail me." Another paper bag appeared. "And you know Howard'd ground me for the rest of my life if I flunk another class."
His look took in his friends and Trowa; he bit into a carrot. "If you'd stop messing around with AO, you'd have time to study."
"But I was leading this raid we'd been planning for days, and then they dropped this armor and..."
"We don't want to hear about it!" Heero and Quatre said at nearly the same time.
"What gang are you with?" Trowa asked, looking Duo over. "I'm a 'trox soldier."
Duo made a face. "Sucks to be you. I'm an optifecs shade, Doolan." He popped open a can of cola. "Usually run with the Bridges, but I'm an independent."
"I've ran with them a couple of times. But mostly pick up a few independents for raids on my own." They shared a grin.
After pulling out the second sandwich from his bag, Duo glared at it. "Bologna. I hate bologna."
"You eat it nearly every day," Heero commented, finishing his own sandwich and moving onto a small bag of chips.
"Yeah, and that's why I hate it." Duo cast a look around and held it out to Trowa. "Hey do me a favor and eat this, k?"
Trowa picked up the bag and nodded. "You didn't put anything weird in it, did you?"
"Nah," Duo laughed. "It's only got mayo and cheese on it."
Looking up from his book, Quatre glanced between his friends. "Oh, this is Trowa. He's new."
Duo offered a greeting, but immediately went back to his sandwich and notes. Heero nodded, a slight frown between his brow. "You're in my home room."
Trowa lifted his shoulder and dug out a pink class schedule. "Stevens?" he asked looking up from the list.
Leaning over to read the schedule, Quatre pointed. "You'll be in my English and music classes! Cool!"
"Who transfers to a new school a week before Christmas vacation?" Heero was still looking at Trowa.
"No one sane," Duo replied, not looking up from his notes.
"That proves it," a new voice joined the group. "Duo's the expert in insanity." Wufei sat between Heero and Quatre. Giving him a nod, he began to stare at Trowa. "Finally someone who knows more than that ass, Renken."
Duo glanced at Wufei, told him to, "bite me," and went back to his notes.
"Wufei, right?" Trowa asked. At Wufei's head-shake, he gave a faint smile. "He did act like he knew more than anyone else."
"So who's going to Relena's party on Saturday?" Quatre asked. "I already know you are Wufei."
"Not going to make it," Duo said, holding his place with a finger. "Movie night."
Heero was nodding. "We made plans last week." Catching sight of a sheet of paper in front of Wufei, he picked it up. "Is this the tournament schedule?" And began to read.
"Yes. I just got it from Coach Bleach," Wufei told Heero, and glanced at Quatre, "And yes, of course I'll be there."
He looked at Duo with a slight smirk. "Going to see Revenge of the Sith again?"
Duo nodded and took a drink.
"Haven't you seen it a hundred times already?"
"Twenty-four," Heero supplied. "This will be the twenty-fifth."
"But we only saw Clones like ten." Duo wrinkled his nose. Heero smacked him on the back of his head. "Hey!"
"Study," Heero told him, jerking his chin at the notes. "If Howard grounds you again, the weekend's shot."
"You can go with me, if you want to," Quatre told Trowa. "Relena wouldn't mind."
"Like a date?" Duo asked looking between the two.
"Duo!" Quatre threw a carrot at him, flushing.
Wufei snorted and jumped to his feet. "I've got timed laps fifth period," he said by way of explanation. He moved off a few feet from the group and began stretching exercises.
"Sorry!" Duo dragged the word out, but bent over his notes once again.
Heero set Wufei's tournaments schedule aside and found the page he'd been reading in his textbook.
"Saturday?" Trowa asked.
"Yeah, it starts at seven, usually winds down about midnight." Quatre was nodding. "There should be pizza and a bunch of stuff. Relena has good parties."
Trowa was staring at the book still open in his hand, but he nodded. "I'd like to go...with you."
"Great! My sister can give you a ride home." Trowa glanced up at him, and he added in a hurry, "just to find out where you live." Trowa's smile was short, but Quatre felt his cheeks heat.
"Speaking of rides," Heero turned to Duo. "Think Howard can give me one on the twenty-ninth?"
Duo looked up frowning. "That's a Friday, isn't it? Shouldn't be a problem. Got a meet?" He jerked his chin at the tournament schedule.
"The twenty-ninth of December, and the fourth and fifth of January. J should be back by the first..."
"Just let me know." Duo had turned back to his notes.
Quatre sat back for a moment, stretching his back and rolling his neck. He stopped to watch Wufei working his hamstrings, palms against the tree. Duo's murmured question to Heero, and Heero's answer pulled his attention. He wanted to say something about how cute they looked all huddled together, but didn't. Maybe it was because they did look cute leaning against each other, going over Duo's notes.
He let his gaze slide over to Trowa, and linger. The boy was now propped up on an arm, his book on the grass in front of him. Quatre tilted his head to the side, trying to see Trowa's eyes behind his long bangs. He was the new kid, but somehow, he didn't feel like it.
Turning his book over in his hand, Quatre altered looking at the cover and each of his friends in turn. He mentally assigned names to the five young men on the cover art. Though none were alike in appearance, each character matched one of his friends to a high degree.
Quatre scanned the grassy clearing again, watching each of his friends for a moment until he was back at Trowa. It was like Trowa had always been a part of their group. And maybe he had but didn't know it until they'd bumped into one another. Quatre shook his head internally and went back to his book. It was a good day, a good book, and winter vacation would soon be there.
"You’re not wearing that." Order given, he was already undressing, wondering what Duo had chosen for his costume.
"But Heero..." Duo started, straightening the right glove, the left dangling from his hand.
"It’s a Christmas Party, Duo." Pulling off his shirt, he tossed it to the side, and reached for the costume shop bag on the bed.
Duo snorted behind him. "A dress-up one. Quatre said we could come as anyone."
He paused to look Duo’s costume over once again. "Rocky Horror Picture Show is not a Christmas movie. I seriously doubt he meant ..." he was suddenly choking, holding up a swatch of gold material. "What. The. Hell. Is this?"
"Your costume," Duo nearly purred in his ear, his body suddenly pressed up behind him, and gloved hands running down his chest. "What’s Frankenfurter without his Rocky?"
It had felt so good!
He wanted to do it again, and turned his body to the other side of his pillow. Movement, quick and deliberate caught his attention. This required investigation. Off the pillow, he was trotting quickly over the floor, and even ignored the tempting jingle from those shiny things hanging from the indoor tree. The Man with the Yellow Paws was heading for the door.
The Man hadn’t looked, and he was nearly bowled over but scampered out of the way. Oops! His tail was just missed by The Man’s big paw, and he tumbled over backwards.
"I’ll be just a minute," a loud booming voice called from above.
Rolling over, he spotted The Man with the Yellow Paws shutting the door, and walking away. He had to follow. The floor was cold! And the fur between his pads kept sticking, and he had to back down the long step, and then the other. By the time he reached the flat floor, The Man with the Yellow Paws was gone.
And the floor was cold.
His whiskers trembled and he thought of his pillow. His pillow was warm and soft. And if he hadn’t followed The Man, he might have been given a bowl of special treat. But he hadn’t stayed inside and...
White stuff! And look! It was landing all around him. He jumped at it, but it disappeared. He swatted a paw at it, held it to the cold floor and felt it moving under his pads. He lifted his paw cautiously, peering under to see the white...
It was GONE!
He searched but there were so many! He chased some down the floor walk and back to the steps. He was leaping in the air, twisting his body about to capture one midair ...
A hand, warm and gentle, closed over him, cradled him close to a chest. He squirmed and rolled on his back. It was The Man with the Yellow Paws!
"How did you get outside?" He felt the rumble through The Man’s outer skin and dodged the fingers tickling his ears. "Come on, you little monster. Let’s get you back inside before you become a catcicle."
And suddenly the light dimmed, and in the swirl, he could see the door closing, the tree in the corner and the spot by the large, warm rock thing where his pillow was. A different hand was stroking his head between his ears and his eyes closed. He was purring, but felt more rumbling, knew The Man was saying something.
"...outside? You sure you didn’t let him out..."
He had been so cold, but he’d chased the white stuff. And now he was warm, and was being petted. And The Man with the Yellow Paws was with The Man with the Tassel. He thought about playing with the tassel, but he was tired again, and his fur was being stroked, and he thought that maybe when he woke from this nap, he would get a special treat.
The low moan had him looking at Duo again, and his mouth went dry. Eyes closed, in a semi-reclined position, Duo sat with legs spread, one hand kneading his balls through his jeans and the other wrapped around a thick candy cane. Slick with saliva, Duo sucked the candy stick into his mouth, his lips sliding over the glossy surface. He pulled it out slowly, letting out another moan, soft, low and carnal.
"Fuck..." the word was a drawn out whimper. Heero swallowed, watching the candy cane disappear between Duo’s lips again.
The steering wheel tugged violently to the left. Heero turned back to the road; the wheels were locked in a sideways skid. A horn blared, and lights whirled. Heero downshifted, hoping the tires would grab. Another horn wailed as headlights flashed too close. He powered the steering wheel over, into the slide, and back. The car spun in a lazy circle; headlights were coming right towards them. Horns blared, long, loud and much too close.
With a jolt and a slight crunch, the car came to rest. Heero was breathing hard, hands gripping white on the steering wheel. Next to him, Duo was saying his name, softly, cautiously. And Heero turned his head to look at him. Duo was sitting up now, one hand clutching the armrest handle; the other, his candy cane.
"Give me that!" Heero demanded with a growl. He had the window down and the candy cane launched, disappearing into the unplowed parking lot.
"Are you all right?" Duo was asking, struggling to undo his seatbelt. "It was your idea..."
Heero took a deep breath, letting the snow blow through his open window, letting the cold sting his face as the flakes landed. "Next time, don’t try to prove me wrong."
And Duo’s hands were on his face, his lips pressing against his mouth. Peppermint, strong on his tongue, in his nostrils. "You got it," Duo was whispering, pulling away, settling back into his seat once again.
The windshield wipers clunked and swiped; the radio was playing some old fashion instrumental, and one of Heero’s cheeks was sticky, slick from candy cane being in Duo’s mouth.
And Heero laughed.
His car crashed into the oldest tree in Beford Falls, George stumbles out onto the bridge, intent on taking his life. Duo had undone his pants, his fly spread wide, and Duo’s hand was inside Heero’s boxers. Fingers teased and fluffed his pubic hair, curled about his balls and stroked his cock. The popcorn lay spilled over on the theater floor, forgotten; Heero clutched at his twenty-four ounce cola (only twenty-four despite what Duo said was a bargain in getting a thirty-two ounce. If he drank thirty-two ounces of soda, he’d be pissing all night, and he wanted to sleep some time), his fingers not long enough to make it around the cup, but almost there by the amount of pressure he was putting on the waxed cardboard.
George was running from his friends, his buddies for they believed him to be a lecher. Heero’s cock was freed from his pants, his boxers pushed away and Duo was pumping Heero’s cock. Heero was trying to keep from groaning out loud, biting his lip between his teeth, his hands clenched into fists on each side of his legs, and his toes pushing up off the sticky floor (where his cola had spilled after he let go of it when Duo stuck his tongue in Heero’s ear) and his hips thrusting up into Duo’s fist, willing and urging him to go faster.
Heero’s vision was coming back into focus, his breathing nearly normal and a bell sounded from the movie screen. He shot a glance down the aisle, but no one had joined them as yet in their row. His cock was getting chilly now, though Heero saw Duo had placed some napkins over his nakedness. He unfurled his fingers, brought a hand up slowly and wiped away the come still lying in a sticky puddle. Some had spilled on his boxers, but wasn’t bad - it wouldn’t leak through his jeans.
Zipping and buttoning his pants, he leaned towards Duo. "Just how do you do that?"
Duo munched on another handful of popcorn before answering. "It’s all in the wrist movement, babe."
Heero nodded, and stared at the screen. Though he’d seen the movie at least a hundred times, he felt as though he’d missed a good portion and was lost at just where it was currently. "It is, you know."
"Hmmm?" Duo was looking at him now, giving him a half smile.
"A wonderful life." Heero gave him a kiss in return, and licked the butter flavoring from his lips.
"A Miracle on 34th Street is playing next," Duo was saying, a little wiggle in his brows, "I’ll buy you another popcorn..."
It began about two weeks ago. But it could have been longer ago than that. I discovered it about two weeks ago, though. Duo touches me. And yes, I know - Duo touches everyone. But... he usually only touches those he’s in direct contact with, someone he’s speaking to at that moment, and not the one who’s doing his level best to ignore him. And there it is.
If I am ignoring him, then how is it I know where he is most of the time during the day? How is it I know who he eats breakfast with in the cafeteria? What cologne he’s wearing. Where he plans to eat dinner or if he’s plans to stay home and watch a game.
The first time I truly became aware of his ...touch, I had been running the presentation slide show and he was giving the marketing review. From the screen up in front of the room, to standing just behind me, Duo wandered the length and breadth of the conference room. At slide five, he had leaned close to me, told me to hold the slide for a moment longer and his fingers grazed my neck. An accident, I thought. At least at first. But... after the meeting he helped me pack the equipment away, and his hand held mine, for seconds only but... - another accident?
The touches became more and more frequent. In the galley over coffee cups. Riding in the elevator. Standing anywhere near me - in front or behind or to either side - Duo found some way, some accidental way to touch me.
And I want more.
The room is clear now, and I hear voices down the hallway, others talking, making lunch plans and after work schedules. I am still trying to figure out what I can do about Duo. If I should do anything.
I raise my head and Duo is standing in the doorway. He is looking at me and begins to walk closer. I stand up abruptly and turn away. He cannot touch me. Not now. "What?" I ask, moving to the bank of windows overlooking the parking lot.
He has come around the table and pauses nearby, but not in touching distance. "Everything... alright?"
My hand is on the window pane, and the glass is cool, but as my fingers warm it, I see the faintest hint of condensation build up around them. And when I drop my hand, my fingers are outlined to the glass. I wonder if Duo’s fingers are still branded somehow to my skin.
"No..." I tell him, "yes." And I move forward a step, looking at him, watching him watch me. "You do that deliberately, and walk away," I take another step, and Duo reaches behind him, braces his arms on the table. But he’s still watching me, and I don’t believe for a moment what I see in his eyes is fear. "But it leaves a trace... you leave a mark."
I am in front of him now, closer than I have ever initiated in contact before. I don’t have to touch him to feel him, he is that close. But I do. His face is as warm as his hands have always been, and through his shirt, I can feel his heart beating - steady but a little fast. That’s okay. Mine is beating a little faster than normal as well.
His lips are warmer still, and giving and opening. I am kissing him, or he is kissing me. Either way, I haven’t stopped touching him. My hands are on his back. And now in his hair. One of his arms is circling my shoulders; the other braces his body on the table. I am ready to lay him out on it, to touch him wherever he will let me, and somehow, I believe he will let me touch him wherever my fingers and hands and lips and mouth will roam.
But the overhead speaker gives the daily team turnover announcements and I am reminded on just where we are. I want more, but not here.
I still have Duo pressed against the table, and I am still touching him. But he is touching me back.
"Have dinner with me tonight," I ask him.
He is smiling and his hand slides around my neck and down the front of my shirt. "Only if you promise to let me touch you," his finger pluck at the waistband of my pants, "and promise to touch me too."
I haven’t let go of him yet, and remind him of just where my hands are. "Always," I tell him and he touches me again.