It couldn't have been an accident. No one forgets the keys to the handcuffs in use for a play – no one. That is, no one except Mister Pervert himself. Duo grumbled and shifted again, rolling his eyes at the repeated clank and rattle of the chain linking his cuffed hands.
"Where the hell does he live? Nova Scotia?" he groused even more. Sure the hardwood chair worked fantastic for the scene, but he could feel his ass flattening by the minute.
"He's only been gone a couple of minutes, Duo. Probably not even to his car yet," Heero commented, not looking up.
Duo threw a glare at the man's back and twisted his hand in the cuff once more. "I'm just saying, for someone supposedly so put together, he's pretty scattered."
"He's had a lot on his mind lately. This play is his–" Heero looked up and grimaced. "pièce de résistance" he returned to his reading "and he wants it to be perfect."
"Yeah, but..." Duo's complaint trailed off. He'd begun to repeat himself, and his roommate wasn't who he wanted to lay into – at least not verbally. "You think anyone else is around?" He tried to see out into the darkened theater, beyond the arc of light from the stage. Nothing but dark shadow could be seen.
Heero grunted. "It's late. All the other players left an hour ago, and janitors long before that." Heero turned a page.
Settling back into a slump, Duo studied the high-gloss, black leather of Heero's shoes. He found it odd that his roommate would have accepted the role as easily as he had. He raised his eyes, amused at how well Heero's costume fit, and couldn't help drawing imaginary lines from one small red dot to another. "My kingdom for a magic marker," he muttered softly. As Heero turned another page, Duo offered, "If you wanted to run your lines by me, I'm cool with that."
"In a moment," Heero's voice sounded distracted.
"It's not like I'm going anywhere."
Duo smiled grimly and rattled the chain against the chair. "It does make me wonder what Zechs is doing with a set like this," he jangled the links again, "as though it were common and ordinary."
"You know what Zechs is like. He's anything but common and ordinary." Heero looked over his shoulder at him. "You have read this play of his, haven't you?"
Duo glared. "Of course I have."
"Then you know these characters aren't anywhere close to common and ordinary." He turned back to the script.
The laugh was short, and Duo tilted his head back to stare up into the rafters overhead. "Why'd he write characters like that, you think?"
"Personal experience? Shock value?" Heero lifted a shoulder without turning. "Does it bother you?"
"Obviously not if I was the willing one," he answered sitting up and frowning slightly. "Why did you agree?"
Heero answered simply, "You asked me."
Blinking, Duo leaned to the side, trying to see Heero's face. "But, I thought… Zechs said he got you to agree."
His snort was unexpected. "Zechs asked me when he asked you and I refused then. It was only because Quatre broke his leg and you asking that I'm here." He turned and leaned against the table. "I'm ready."
"What?" Duo's eyes went wide, darting to Heero's face.
"You offered to help with lines," Heero reminded.
"Oh yeah, right." Duo was quiet, waiting. His eyes tracked up over Heero's costume, meeting Heero's stare. "Where do you want to begin?" He licked his lips, the spring in his middle coiling tight.
Heero frowned and glanced down at the table. "How about just after John leaves and it's just Drew and Sammy."
Duo nodded and the spring twisted. He closed his eyes, remembering what Drew was supposed to be like. Opening them, he didn't let it show how seeing Heero step into character affected him. "How long?" his voice deepened, his tone rough and challenging.
Never had he seen Heero fidget as he did then. His fingers twisted hair, played with the ruffle on his blouse. "Drew," Heero recited, his voice soft and at least an octave higher. "It isn't like that. John is..." his hand spread wide. "He's just a friend."
"That's why I'm chained up like this?" Duo attempted to stand, chain and chair rattled. "Why'd you do it Sammy?" his voice cracked and he repeated softly, "Why?"
Heero turned away from him, one hand clasping the opposite elbow, his bottom lip between teeth. "You–you don't need me." Though Heero's voice projected, it was low. Duo's eyes narrowed.
His next few lines came to mind, and Duo twisted them. "You remember that time last summer when we drove up to Toronto for the festival?" Heero turned his head to stare at him, his mouth opening. Duo rushed on. "We got so drunk and somehow made it back to our room." Heero closed his mouth, nodding. His tongue snaking out, moistening suddenly dry lips, Duo kept his eyes on Heero. "I wasn't drunk," his voice dropped low and he nearly looked away when Heero jerked. "I needed you – wanted you."
All fidgeting stopped and Heero took a step closer. "Then why did you..." his hand rose and lowered "pretend?"
Duo turned away and drew a deep breath. "I was scared." He knew Heero stood in front of him, was watching him, but he couldn't raise his gaze. His heart pounded.
"Scared? You?" Heero's voice was low, his tone curious. Duo risked a glance. "You've always been the one pushing me away, Duo. Why would you..." Heero raked a hand through his hair. "I don't think I understand."
Bowing his head, closing his eyes, Duo could almost see the way Heero had looked in that cheap room, legs spread, neck arched with his mouth opened. He fingered the links of the chain holding him down. "You were so perfect..." he whispered. "I knew that - that there'd be no way you'd ever..." He peered at Heero from behind his bangs. "...Want me. At least not how I wanted you."
"I'm not perfect," Heero said. He moved forward, pushing Duo's knees apart. "And I resent you doing my thinking for me." His fingertips skated over Duo's cheek. "We've been friends a long time – long enough for you to know I would never hurt you."
Heero's voice had dropped, and Duo found his legs being pushed even wider apart; Heero's knee was perched between them. "Heero," he began, looking up. Heero was leaning forward, fingers pulling his face towards him. Lips touched for a brief moment. His words shaky, Duo asked again, "why did you accept the role?" and searched Heero's face waiting for the answer.
He gave the same answer as before, "Because you asked me to," and slid his fingers up into Duo's hair.
"Even though it was for a drag queen?" Duo's eyes flicked downward, reminding him what Heero wore – lace and frills, ruffles and stockings. His eyes landed on the patch of skin showing between skirt and stockings.
"They're just clothes." Heero shrugged again. "It's just a role. It's not who I am," Heero was saying. He stepped back, his hand sliding over Duo's chest. "You like this?" Duo flashed him a look. "You like the idea of me cross-dressing?" Heero's voice sounded amused, and as Duo watched, Heero raised his leg up, planting his foot where his knee had been. "Would you like to see... more?"
From the shiny Mary Jane covered foot rubbing the instant bulge in his jeans, to the white, lacy stocking, up a shaved, well-formed leg, Duo's eyes walked. His glance flicked up once to see Heero watching him, and he nodded silently. Heero's skirt, with its almost sheer white material speckled with red dots, rode high on his thigh; Duo's eyes were drawn to the shadowed crevice between powerful legs. He knew normal garments couldn't have been worn, but he wondered just how far Heero had taken his role. The man had shaved his legs, after all.
Heero's hands had skimmed downward, his fingers worked the tiny buckle of the over-sized schoolgirl shoe. "It seems you share a... kink with Zechs," Heero said, pulling his foot from the patent leather.
Jerking his head up sharply, Duo demanded, "What do you know of Zechs' kinks?" He pulled on the cuffs binding his hands and growled again in frustration.
"I've known the man for a couple of years now," Heero drawled, replacing one foot with the other. "I've met several of his boyfriends." Holding the shoe off to the side before dropping it to the stage floor, he added, "They've all been transvestites, queens, or whatever." Heero bent over his leg, taking Duo's chin in his hand. "He might have wanted me in this get-up, but it was you who got me here." He pressed his lips to Duo's, a little more insistent, a little more probing.
"I just..." Duo started when the kiss ended. "The guy is..." He stopped talking and leaned his head into Heero's hand.
His fingers stroking along Duo's cheek, Heero finished the thought, "...perverted but also honorable. He will ask, and he might push, but he wouldn't force." His thumb brushed over Duo's lips and Heero drew a hand down over his neck, over his chest, a fingernail lightly scratched at the span of exposed flesh from the open shirt. He plucked at the fastened jeans. "There's only one pervert I want to know better."
Duo brought his gaze up from the hands removing the second shoe to the blue eyes that held his fascination from the first day they'd met. He returned the slight smile given, already watching Heero's hands glide up the lacy stocking. Duo's pulse beat an erratic tattoo; he shifted closer to nylon covered toes just a fraction of an inch away from his crotch. Fingers slipped under the elastic lace, beginning to roll it down.
"Don't," Duo whispered harshly. Heero stopped and watched him. Duo licked his lips, looked from hands to eyes to mouth. "Leave them on... please."
"What do you want me to do?" Heero asked softly, letting his fingers slide out from under the lace.
"Blouse," Duo told him a little louder. "Take off the blouse." He pulled against his bounds, his chest pushed out wanting to touch; the rough chambray of his shirt sliding over one shoulder, parting to the sides.
Heero was smirking at him. Even as he obeyed the request, even as his foot slid closer, his toes fondled denim. Heero leaned forward enough to allow his leg to press against Duo's chest. Duo kissed the knee beneath his lips and watched as buttons were unfastened.
White chiffon in simple lines, the blouse was almost chaste in contrast with the skirt. Its cuffs, like its neckline, were edged in ruffles that spilled over Heero's hands. Duo wasn't sure if he did it naturally or for some sadistic purpose, but the casual slowness, the near caresses Heero made as the flimsy fabric parted, revealing skin, left him breathless and hard.
"You're wearing a bra?" his voice cracked.
Heero shrugged, sliding the blouse off one arm and then the other. "It helps fit the character." His lips twisted, eyes gleamed and a fingertip outlined the lace of the bra's cup. "And it matched the panties," he said even as his other hand, fingers splayed, ghosted over his abdomen, worked their way under the waistband. "What else do you want?"
Duo couldn't decide where to look – one hand separated satin and lace from toned flesh, touching a nipple he remembered all too well, and the other hand under chiffon, fingers playing with the panty waistband. "Skirt off, but leave the rest," Duo nearly moaned.
Taking a step back, Heero unzipped the skirt and let it drop. Duo jerked in spasm, a choked moan forcing its way out. "Fuck me." He stared at the straining fabric, eyes darting upward and back down. Another pull on the chains, he cursed under his breath. "I fucking hate these goddamn things!"
"I don't know," Heero said moving close. "I kind of like," he pushed Duo's legs together, straddling them, "you not able to go anywhere, do anything." He ran his hands up Duo's abdomen, over his pectorals to his shoulders. A simple rock of hips, and Duo threw his head back.
"Fuck, Heero!" He was panting, feet searching for leverage, arms fighting his restraints.
"I can do that," Heero whispered, his lips and tongue making an intricate design on bared chest, "if so motivated." Heero's eyes slanted upward watching Duo as he peered down his own chest; Heero's tongue snaked out to flick his nipple ring.
"Motivated?" Duo hissed, biceps and neck muscles bulging in his attempt for freedom. "What kind of motivation?"
Heero ran his hands soothingly down and back up his arms, placing kisses along Duo's neck. "Entice me with more than another one-night stand."
Duo stilled and stared. "Is that what you think I want?"
Another grind of satin to denim. "It's what happened last time." Heero's eyes met his. "I told you a year ago what I wanted from you and you ran from me then." He lowered his head, nipped at an earlobe. "No more one-night stands – no more playing the drunk."
"No," Duo's voice was low, his cheek rubbed against the only part of Heero he could reach, his hair. "No more running," he promised.
Fingers worked to undo his fly. "Then consider me properly motivated," Heero told him and plunged his hand down into Duo's briefs. "You seem to need some help with something here." Heero murmured against his neck.
"Yeah," Duo croaked, rocking his hips upward. "Going to give me a hand?"
"Maybe more than that." Heero slid down, dropping to the floor between Duo's thighs. Looking up, his fingers hooked on the waistband of both garments. He smirked up at Duo and pulled.
With no time to adjust to the sudden chill, the warm breath and even warmer nuzzle of Heero's cheek had Duo pulling on the chains again. "Oh fuck..." His words were a gasping moan. With a slide of nose to cock, Heero mouthed his shaft. "Heero..." Duo panted, "What are you – will you..." Heero's eyes looked up at him as he struggled to form a sentence. "...suck me?"
As Heero's hands kneaded the inside of Duo's thighs, Duo felt more than saw the smile. After another nibbling kiss on heated skin and another moan, Heero ran the flat of his tongue up the broad expanse of rigidness.
"Is that what you want, Duo?" As Duo groaned in torment, Heero licked again. "You want me to suck you? Want me to go down on you?" Heero worked his mouth over the head of his cock, fingers still dancing on his thighs. Overwhelmed by a fast plummet, Duo's head met the back of the chair again.
"Oh ... God!" he managed, butt arcing off the seat. Duo's hands no longer tugged at the cuffs; like talons, they gripped the back chair legs.
A long, hot, moist slide of lips, and Heero released his cock. "Is that the way you want to come for me, Duo?" he whispered against wet skin. "Your dick in my mouth. Me swallowing all you have to give – ? " Heero flicked his tongue out in play. "Or would you rather..." he nuzzled his cheek against it. "...come some other way?"
Opening his eyes as he scooted back on the chair, Duo asked hesitantly, "Ride me?" Heero's hands tightened, nails biting into flesh. "Leave your panties on, and ...grind into me." Before he'd finished speaking, Heero had risen swiftly, already positioning himself over Duo's lap. "Oh, fuck," Duo said in a drawn out groan. He leaned forward, straining his arms to reach the satin and lace. "Heero..."
Heero stepped up carefully onto the seat, tucking his feet under Duo's legs and holding onto Duo's shoulders, Heero squatted forward, with his knees spread wide to either side. "Lick it," Heero commanded, pulling Duo closer.
Duo closed his mouth over the bulge pressing its way out of confinement. His moan was more hum than sound as he tightened his lips. Saliva ran, wetting the fabric, defining the contours of Heero's cock. He could barely hear the harsh sounds of Heero breathing; hardly feel the alternate bite and release of Heero's fingernails on his shoulders. His focus lay entirely on getting as much as he could into his mouth.
"Suck it. Suck it hard," Heero demanded, panting somewhere above Duo. Heero shifted, thrusting his groin into Duo's face. "Fuck me with that mouth." Heero hissed; Duo's groan vibrated deeply. Heero's soft cries and raspy breathing were punctuated by noisy slurping sounds as Duo sucked, mouthed and lathed over the lacy surface.
With a curse, Heero pulled away, ignoring Duo's protest. He eased his feet to the floor, and settled on Duo's lap. Twin, sharp hissing breaths sounded; Duo's head fell back, and Heero rocked forward.
"Oh ..." Duo gripped the chair legs again, and hooked his feet around the front support. Heero began a steady rocking glide; the spit-soaked lace was rough over his cock. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck... ohfuck..." Duo chanted, arching off the chair to increase the contact.
"Fuck me, Duo," Heero's voice whispered in his ear, breath ragged and raw against his skin. "Your cock feels so good. Think of you in me, in my ass..." Scorching his skin, the words continued. "...as I ride you like a stud." Heero's lips closed over Duo's earlobe, sucking softly, with the occasional sharp bite.
"Heero..." Duo groaned out, eyes snapping open. "Kiss me, Heero. Fucking ride me, but kiss me, dammit."
Arms slipped around his shoulders, clutching him close. Heero released his ear, and mouthed his neck, nipping the skin and keeping the rhythm of his thrusting slide. "You like the feel of my cock on yours, Duo," Heero stated more than asked, and sucked skin and flesh into his mouth. "You get off on the way the lace grates over your..." wet, open mouthed kiss "...over your hot cock..." another suck of flesh under Duo's chin. "You get harder knowing the sloppy wetness was from you, don't you." Heero pressed his lips gently to the side of Duo's mouth.
Quickly tilting his head, Duo caught Heero's mouth in his, and angled for more contact. He pulled back slightly, eyes barely opened. "I'm going to come. Oh fuck... I'm going to come. Ohfu..." His words muffled; Heero was kissing him again.
Thrusting deeper and grinding harder, Heero sped his strokes. The chair creaked, and a support strut protested. Heero slipped his tongue in Duo's mouth. Sounds, like a straining locomotive heavy in his ears, narrowed Duo's world into two parts only – the sliding grind over his cock and the taste of Heero in his mouth. In an instant, he jerked his mouth from Heero's. With his head thrown back and mouth wide in silent cry, he came. His body went rigid even as Heero continued rocking into him, sending minute jolts along hypersensitive connectors.
Heero grunted; his body spasmed and he buried his face against Duo's neck. Hot liquid spilled between them, coating his abdomen, pooling in his pubic hair. Duo eased back, breathing hard. He nuzzled the side of Heero's face while his tongue licked dryly at his ear. "Man...," his voice croaked. "That was fucking amazing." Heero nodded, tightening his arms around Duo's shoulders. "Hey," Duo added softly, "You okay? You didn't ... hurt anything, did you?" Already he could feel the chafe on his skin where the lace had rubbed.
"No," Heero mumbled into his neck. "My fucking calves are killing me though."
Duo chuckled softly, closing his eyes as his breathing returned to normal. "I think the chair is toast." He peered over the side, wiggling a little. "Think Zechs'll notice?"
"I don't give a fuck," Heero said straightening up. He blinked steadily, a slow smile climbing. "If I'd known all it took to fuck you was to a pair of lace panties, I'd have done it a long time ago."
Ducking his head, Duo grinned. "Ah Heero, you know it was more than that. I... shit..." He was suddenly finding it hard to face Heero again. A hand cupped his face, turning it upward.
"I know it was more than that," Heero told him, and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "If it takes hand cuffs and a chain to keep you still, I'll do it too."
A grin flashed. "Only every other week."
Heero sat back, supporting his weight on his own legs and drew Duo's attention. "I think I'd better go find something to clean this up with. Zechs should be getting back soon." Reluctance was heavy in his tone.
Groaning, Duo hung his head back. "Damn. What is taking the bastard so long, anyhow?"
With a brief touch of lips, Heero answered, "He lives in Nova Scotia, remember?" and rose from his human perch. "I think these panties are ruined." Duo looked up and choked. Large holes dotted the lace panel; thick liquid splotches coursed their roadmap over skin and fabric.
"Keeping the bra?" Duo asked, raising his eyes. "I'll replace the panties."
"Maybe." Heero hooked thumbs on each side, and slipped the underwear off, dropping them to the floor. "Maybe I'll invest in a different sort." He raised a brow at Duo's laugh and pulled on his skirt.
Deep in the dark of the theater, sprawled as comfortably as he could get, the long legged man panted softly. His eyes never left the stage as the dark-haired man found a discarded towel and cleaned himself and his lover up. He couldn't stop the near silent groan watching the two share another kiss, but he needed to compose himself.
Digging out the handkerchief he always carried, he wiped at the semen splashed up on his belly, and dabbed the cotton over his cock. He imagined it was those discarded lace panties on the stage and he plotted a way to recover them while their owner wasn't looking. Balling the square cloth, he shoved it back in his coat pocket, tucked himself back into his leather pants, and zipped them up as quietly as he could. His eyes went to the stage once again.
It wasn't by chance he'd written the play. After hearing Heero's drunken confession, and watching Duo's attempts to hide his obsession, he had to act. Or at the very least, capture the pent up energy of their sexual tension. Heero's refusal not-withstanding, he knew the man would be there opening night, and would hear the message he conveyed. It wouldn't take a two-by-four, but just barely, to bring the message home.
Quatre's fall had been pure bad luck; his chortling, hand rubbing glee well hidden as he passed on his condolences. The past two days of late night rehearsals and line runs had shoved the friends together in situations never experienced.
On stealthy feet, he eased himself from the seat and walked in a crouch up the main aisle. He planned to make a grand entrance, acting as though he'd been gone for longer than the two minutes it'd taken him to exit the stage and circle around the theater. He hadn't technically lied when he told them he didn't have the cuff keys. Seeing as the keys were in his coat pocket, and not on his person at the time, it was the truth.
Throwing the door wide open, he smiled. Performance and set up was what it was all about.