Watch Me Spin
A couple of steps into the room, and I stopped. Heero was half-way to the bed and looked back. Was this it then? The final stage of whatever was going to happen? I looked at the door and didn't need to be prodded to remember the hollowness waiting on the other side. He was going to leave it up to me what happened. Where and how far we were going to take this - whatever this was. I looked at him again but he appeared neutral. Goddamn. I was on my own in this.
"We can go sit on the couch if you prefer," he finally offered, not moving.
From him to the bed to the door to my jeans and back, it was like I couldn't make up my mind where I wanted to look let alone be. "It's white," I told him instead.
"The sheets are blue." Fucker didn't even seem surprised I said that. And he kept watching me.
My eyes shot over to the bed and for a moment I wondered if they were light blue, or a darker one - more to match his eyes. But then, what the hell did that matter? The problem was, did I want more? I believed if I were to suggest topping him, he'd be receptive.
"Most people have blue comforters and white sheets," he answered immediately. I gave him a short smile, even to let him know I knew he didn't misunderstand what I was asking. He simply raised a shoulder but I caught the reddening when he looked down. "I would like to say that initially it was something more, but," his eyes rose up locking on my face. It made my head spin, and not the one attached to my neck. "when you introduced yourself at the coffeehouse, I wanted you. In just a few short minutes, no one before had ever made me," his lips twisted. "lust for them like you did."
He was doing a number on me and I knew then that he could make me come with just his voice - and choice of words. "The feeling's mutual," I half mumbled, and rubbed at the sudden stabbing pain beneath my sternum. I must be getting heartburn. Goddamn dinner. Last time I eat Greek.
"At least, that was from the start. After we started talking, and you were telling me about you, I felt," again with the shoulder thing. "I don't know. A connection or something pretty close to it."
When I've worked on circuit boards in the past, there've been times when whatever tool I'm using would slip and hit an electrode. The jolt felt would be a little startling, maybe a little irritating, and would sometimes ruin a board. The jolt he sent along our supposed connection prodded me to move and I was standing before him, trying to keep from touching him, from kissing him. Anything physical, and that'd be it.
"When we talked out there," Heero jerked his chin in the vague direction of the door. "I knew I wanted whatever you were willing to give me. But with the whole doctor thing, I didn't want whatever we did associated with therapy."
"What you did in there," it was my turn to do that jerking thing with my chin. "I didn't think of as therapy." I gave him a goofy grin and he rolled his eyes. But it got a smile.
Damn, but I liked his smile. And his eyes. And his mouth. So, I kissed him. It was just a little one, a quick brush of skin to skin. I stared at him, wanting... wanting something, but wasn't fucking sure exactly what. Another kiss. To feel his arms wrapped around me again. To feel his mouth on my cock again. And as much as that thought hardened a certain member of my body, it wasn't filling that hole.
Of all the times in my life for it to happen, Quatre came to mind, and I heard his voice insisting that getting topped would instantly make my life better. If getting screwed were a prerequisite, I would think I wouldn't have a care in the world. But this man, he made me wonder.
"What's it like?" I asked finally. He looked confused for a moment. Guess our connection didn't have instant telepathy. "Being bottom." His expression cleared and it even looked like he was going to smile. I was pretty sure his answer wouldn't be anywhere close to what Greg's was.
"It's different for everybody." Oh thanks so much Doc. Your enlightenment floors me. "Duo, it's like being a top. It's different for everyone, with everyone."
I was nodding like I had a fucking clue. "You got that position on the mountain through nepotism, didn't you?" Bastard actually laughed.
"Look," he seemed to be thinking about it some more. "let's try this. I want you to kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like you were a wanderer on the desert and I was an oasis."
Hell, yeah, I liked the way this guy explained things. I knew I was smiling, grinning like a fool, but I so could drink him up. I wet my lips and went to work. His mouth was mine, and I intended to explore every bit of it. Raising my hands to cup his head, I tilted it just so, giving me a better angle. The skin under my palms was warm, and his hair threaded its way between my fingers. I kept my eyes open, watching him, at least for the first few seconds. And then my tongue was in his mouth, sliding along the smooth row of his teeth.
My tongue touched the inside of his cheek, feeling how cool it seemed compared to heat of his tongue. Slick and wet, his mouth held hints of dinner, of the coffee he'd made, and of me. There was no war between us this time, and in freedom, I danced my tongue along his, teasing it with the tip. Pulling him closer, I sensed more than felt his hands land on my waist and I gave into a rocking of the hips, just enough to bush his. My eyes opened, and I saw he was still watching me. His hands hadn't moved.
Kissing him was different this time around - tame with no fighting for supremacy, and no wandering paws. And his tongue wasn't moving. And, shit, other than opening his goddamn mouth, he wasn't doing a damn thing. I pulled back and glared at him.
"When you're a top, even if you give it your best, it's no good if the bottom doesn't respond," was all the bastard said. I grunted. Stupid doctors and their stupid assed ways of explaining things. "Now, let's try this a different way. I'm going to kiss you. But," and here he grinned. "I don't want you to try and take control. Be indifferent if you can." Ah, fuck me but he threw down the gauntlet.
His lips brushed mine in a tentative touch and he retreated. His hands slid up from my waist, up along my chest and stopped at my neck, his fingers angled up into my hair with his thumbs resting just under my jaw. The blue in his eyes turned smoky, and his lids fluttered slightly. I think I resisted closing my own eyes for all of two seconds. And his tongue darted out and he outlined my lips in heated wetness. Instinctively, I opened my mouth seeking more and his tongue was gone.
My eyes slid open a crack and I saw his were closed. His face was coming closer, his head tilted and I closed my eyes and then his mouth met mine. The give in his lips made no difference when they parted, and the faintest rush of breath passed between us. His mouth closed slowly, his lips rubbed mine in softness sending a tingling vibration southward. I inhaled sharply, and the scent from the shower was heady in my nose. His mouth opened again, and his tongue touched where lip met teeth. Painfully slow, he dragged his tongue in outline of the inside of my lips.
Deep, and nearly lost in formation, a weak moan wandered into his mouth from mine. His tongue pulled back in deceptive slowness and his hands angled my head a little to the side. In a suddenness that forced another moan from me, his tongue was back. It seemed to fill my mouth with its presence and I was sucking on it without knowing why. When he drew his tongue away this time, its tip grazed the roof of my mouth, setting it to tingle.
Damn, but he was a fantastic kisser. His thumbs were stroking the undersides of my jaw in time with his tongue thrusts. And just when I thought I had his rhythm down, he'd raze the roof of my mouth again, making me throb in more places than my mouth. He kept alternating what he was doing, and repeated actions that brought those deep moans in response. When he finally stopped, I had to hold onto him to keep from toppling over.
"And that's what it's like to be bottom," he was whispering, practically panting into my hair. "At least to a considerate top."
I was so goddamn hard and stabbing his thigh, but he was giving it right back to me. I had an idea Heero was anything but inconsiderate. Not that he couldn't be, but in this, at least with me, he was going to be... perfect. That thought bothered me a little. Hadn't I been the one in search of a perfect bottom? And if I was supposed to bottom... fuck no. I took a half step back, still holding onto him, and him me, but far enough away I could watch him.
"Which do you prefer?" I demanded.
He was already shaking his head. "It depends on who I'm with." Oh. Yeah. I felt like he'd thwapped me upside the head. "I have no real preference, if that's any help." He'd closed the distance, and palmed my jaw. "I knew before we left the coffeehouse that if it came to it, some things would change. Even if only a little."
"Your questions about trading positions," I mumbled, closing my eyes. He kissed me again, with his lips pressing little nibbling kisses. Dinner must have settled spreading its calmness outward; maybe I would go back there after all. "Show me what a considerate top you are."
"Duo?" Heero stopped moving, became stiff in every way including the one I wanted him at. "This is what you want?"
"Yes." I didn't hesitate. I'd done my thinking, done the whole drama thing. It wasn't the beginning or the end of anything; just two guys getting together to please each other. And if more came of it, that'd be just great. Besides, I had a feeling if I flaked out, Heero would only roll over and let me do him. Losers weren't a part of this game. Not any more.
"We don't have to do this now." His lips were somewhere near my ear, his tongue cool and heated. "It can be tomorrow." His kiss, a feathery soft press to my neck making me shiver. "Or next week." My skin was razed in a sudden motion. "Or even next year." Flesh held between rows of teeth, sucked into his hot, moist mouth. My hips met his in an unconscious thrust; blood was rushing to parts south, evacuating my head like core meltdown was imminent. Volcanic eruption was a certainty if he kept that up.
"Now," I half muttered working the ties of his robe. "I want you now." His skin was golden warmth under my fingers and palms as I slid my hands through the folds of his opened robe. My cock was throbbing with a heat of its own, wanting to meet his, and I pulled his hips forward. He groaned into my shoulder, his fingers dug into flesh.
"Bed," he commanded, and I wasn't opposed. He took a deliberate step away, pulling me along but at arm's length.
Feet stomping in the bleacher seats over the dugout couldn't have been louder than the blood pounding in my ears. Faint voices shouted the chorus of Queen's song, and I'll be goddamned if I didn't want to be rocked. Covers flew back showing Heero did have plain, blue cotton sheets, and I grinned. He was a walking contradiction to all things common.
I didn't hesitate to slip the robe off, but paused when I caught Heero looking at me. His eyes were muted blue, his brows dipped low and his mouth no longer smiled. Dropping the robe, I reached for his. "I promise not to clobber you," I told him, guessing at what his concerned look was for.
A smiling mouth touched my lips. "Just tell me if something isn't right or you're feeling uncomfortable about anything." His robe hit the carpet, and he half turned, kneeling on the mattress. I waited until he was in the middle of the bed before following.
Firm but pliant under my hands and knees, the bed dipped only where pressure was applied. I watched Heero as I crawled towards him, liking that eager-dog look he was giving, loving the flush of his skin-tone, and couldn't wait to taste the fluid leaking from his cock. He was reaching for me long before I got close. And here I thought I was anxious.
His hands were warm, but his mouth warmer, and I was leaning into him, my hands on his smooth hairless chest. He tugged me closer; I had a quick sensation of falling and suddenly I half lay on him. I was aware of a hand clutching an upper thigh, pulling it up over to his other side and I slid on top without losing contact, without breaking the hottest fucking kiss yet.
It didn't even cross my mind where his cock was. Or how he'd raised his knees and how he'd began a slow rhythm, a gentle rocking of his pelvis. Riding his cock, letting it slide along the part in my ass, glide against my dick, we kept time with our tongues and our mouths and our hands. Under my fingertips, his heart pulsed with a strong beat that mirrored the one I heard thrumming in my own ears.
An insistent tug and we rolled. Heero now laid between my spread legs, the rocking rhythm he'd started, he continued. For a split second, I froze. He brought a hand up, brushed at a cheek and kissed the corner of my mouth. Barely panting beneath him, trying to catch my breath, I pushed down with my heels, pivoted my hips up, and laughed softly at his gasp.
"You like to tease?" he murmured, his mouth already on the move. As he teased down my neck and to my chest with faint touches from his lips, his hands holding mine prisoner, it crossed my mind why I hated the position I was in.
Bucking up with enough force to dislodge how he laid, I leveraged the slight gap I'd made and slid out from under him. Without breaking stride on planting his teasing, nipping kisses, Heero rolled on his side, and pulled me close. I wasn't laying on him as much as leaning against him. Much better. One last brush of lips to a spot above my left nipple, and he sat up on his knees.
"How would you like to do this?" he asked softly, his palm resting at the dip in my waist and his fingers lightly touching my back.
I leaned up on an elbow, watching him look at me. Through his palm, I could feel his body vibrating; he was holding himself back, and that power shot through me. He was batting the ball out of the park and didn't even know it yet. I felt the smile before I knew my lips were moving and he only raised an eyebrow. It hadn't slipped by me that he'd been the one pretty much piloting this flight.
"Condom? Lube?" I asked, knowing if needed, supplies were tucked into an inside pocket stashed in his hallway closet.
Bastard didn't even bat an eye. He laid on his back, and keeping his eyes on me, reached blindly with a hand for the night stand drawer. A few items were knocked to the floor, but he was successful and tossed a familiar purple bottle and a couple foil packets my way.
"Ribbed or extra thin," he commented with the barest twitch to his lips.
What the hell. I tossed the silver pack over my shoulder, keeping the red. Sitting up, I faced him without touching. He had called me a tease and I was about to show him that he ain't seen nothing yet. I eyed how he laid and motioned with my chin.
"Sit up against the headboard," I told him and had to smile when he arched an eyebrow. But he moved back, pulling a couple of pillows along for support. Once he was settled, I shifted over to sit on my knees next to him and picked up his hand.
"The name of game is control," I was telling him. "and the idea behind it," I put one of his fingers into my mouth, wetted it slightly and pulled it out, giving a last swipe of my tongue to its tip. Heero's cock twitched and jumped. You are so mine, buddy. "is to see who maintains control over their body." His lips spread into a smile as I repeated the same action with a second finger. The skin on his arm pimpled. Not unaffected after all, are we, Doc?
"The rules are simple," I sucked on a third finger briefly. "You cannot touch yourself, and can only touch me where I place your hands. I can touch you with only my mouth one place at a time, but not myself." Those fucking blue eyes of his lit up like Candlestick on a night game. He liked my game.
"Are there any other rules?" he asked, shifting slightly. His other hand laid about as far from his body as he could get it without being completely obvious.
There weren't any more, but damn, I wanted to add no talking to the list. If he were to catch on, I'd lose to my own horniness. Running a fingertip from his hipbone to just below his left nipple, I shook my head. I couldn't lie.
"Have we started yet?" The skin by his navel twitched, and I knew were I'd start.
I nodded again, grinning at the sudden disgruntled look. He wasn't fooling me; this game excited him on more levels. Giving him a wicked smile, I plunged all three of his fingers back into my mouth and worked them over with lips and tongue. And they weren't passive fingers either. Heero'd picked up on the game's nuance - anything goes to win.
In the course of my long and extensive love life, I'd played this particular game a few times. Usually it was to pass the time and prolong the sex. This was a game I was good at. I might appear impatient and demand instant results for whatever I did, but it was all about control and technique. And I had both, in spades. Doc was going down.
Even though I could tell he didn't want to, he couldn't help watching me suck on his fingers. "You know how to use your mouth," he said. "I'd like to watch it suck on something else." I fucking moaned. For a moment only, he looked startled and I watched as the surprise slipped into some more predatory. Damn it all to hell. I was going to lose.
Still holding his fingers in my mouth, I rose up on my knees and spread my legs wide enough. His eyes centered on my dick and I made it dance for him. The ripple that ran through him was visible and I chuckled. He was so going down. His hand clawed at the sheet as I positioned the one I'd been working on between my legs. "Use it," I told him, knowing he'd know what I meant. He nodded without saying anything, and the slick wetness of my own saliva slipped between cheeks.
Bending over carefully, I tried to block out what he was doing with his fingers. I placed a hand to either side of his body without touching, and flicked my tongue in a rapid circle around his navel. Its skin jumped and twitched. Yeah, this was going to be fun.
"Did you enjoy the shower, Duo?" he asked, and images flashed in my mind. "Your cock was so big in my mouth, slipping down my throat," I closed my eyes and pretended I wasn't hearing him. His skin was like cream beneath my tongue and I was the feline lapping it up.
His hips shifted; he was adjusting his position to better accommodate me. The considerate bastard. Lazily, I wrote my name over his abdomen, and flicked a glance up to see his reaction. His lips were parted and his eyes closed. He was fighting it. One thing I gotta hand to the doc, though, he didn't use what needed to be done against me. Unless otherwise indicated, a good top always made sure his bottom was ready. And doc was being thorough.
Since I was there and it was close, my mouth touched the head of his cock. Heero jumped and the shudder that wracked him made me moan. Oh fuck. Blowing him was going to be better than winning the Nationals. I licked at the fluid gathering and he shuddered again; a half suppressed moan from him sounded this time. It was going to be better than hitting a homerun in the World Series.
"Sucking you, feeling the size of your cock, I imagined how it'd feel plunging into my ass." I almost lost right there, my head dropped low enough to almost rest on his groin. "You taking me in the shower," his voice lowered suddenly, his breathing increased. He was turning himself on as well. "Pushing me up against the wall, with the water beating down on your back." Yeah, I could imagine that too.
I moved an arm carefully, and leaned closer, blowing over blood-flushed skin. "Your hands holding my hips, pulling them back with each thrust." Oh God. Just shoot me now. The wiry hairs tickled my nose, and the sweaty, musky smell of him invaded my nostrils I was so close to what I wanted. I licked at one of his balls. His cock rose and fell, the soft thump hung in the air. "Feel how tight I am around your cock? Hear me moaning your name?" I sucked the ball into my mouth and his cock rose again to wave in the air. Though science might disprove my theory, I believed men had pheromones of their own, and Heero was producing them in spades. Fuck I wanted him bad.
"In and out, you feel the come building up inside," his voice was nearly gone, and I could swear his fingers were going to rip holes in the sheet. I sucked the other ball into my mouth and worked them with my tongue. "I'm coming now. Shooting my load on the tile, coating it in threads of milky white." I drew in a ragged breath around his balls. Heero groaned and thrust upward. I knew it for an involuntary action; he was so close.
His fingers stopped moving in my ass, and I turned my face towards his, balls still in my mouth. He was watching me, biting a lip. Fuck but he was gorgeous. His balls fell with a wet sound, and a trail of spit linked my lip to him. "Heero?" I half whispered.
"I lose. Whatever you want," he mumbled. "Fuck me. Climb on, turn around... whatever. Just do something."
And here we were. I still wasn't sure how I wanted him, exactly. But he'd been doing a number on me, and something nudged the thought that I ain't seen nothing yet to the fore. Heero giving in like that, I knew I'd see it through. I rose to my knees, and he removed his hand. A shutter forced its way out, and I barely refrained from pulling his hand back.
"Like this," I told him, shifting closer. The position would be awkward, but we'd be facing each other, and I wouldn't get that trapped feeling from being under him.
Heero nodded, handing me the condom I'd set aside. In the past, I'd never made a big production out of rolling a rubber on my dick, but with him, it felt like the event needed a little pomp, a mini-ceremony of sorts. Ignoring the bottle he held out, I made a quick pass with my mouth; the flesh of his thigh trembled under my hand, and I wondered at his control. After all that, his cock smoothly sheathed itself as I rolled the condom down.
"Coat it," he instructed, forcing the purple container in my hand.
I shot a mock glare at him. Ha, as if I were a total virgin and had no idea what we where going to do. But I coated his rubber encased dick with enough lube that it pooled in the hair at its base. I figured it was my ass on the line, and I wasn't taking chances. Flipping the lid closed, I winked at him and tossed the bottle aside. His hand was on my thigh by my knee, a finger traced one of the longer scars from surgery. He was watching me, wondering if I was going to flake out on him, I'd bet. I gave him a short smile.
Looking at him just watch me, I wanted to believe in that connection he said he felt. In his eyes, I could see the concern overlaid with desire. I felt it in his skin, in the trembling muscles beneath. It was in the power he commanded, in the restraint he welded. He really did want whatever I was willing to give him. Be it what we had already, or something more.
Epiphanies happen when they happen, and given the fact Murphy was a friend of mine, a major one reached up and knocked me on my head. I was about to be fucked, and suddenly, it wasn't about the sex. It'd never been about the sex. Hallelujah, and all that shit. Quatre, and to a degree Lu, was entirely right. I had to give it up, not physically, but ...emotionally? I had to let someone get close enough to me to let them get close to me.
This man, this fucking gorgeous man spread out before me had shared a part of himself. I knew without his saying that he'd opened up his life as he'd never done before. I sure had and it wasn't because I thought of him as some kind of doctor, either. He was right. There was something more going on besides a healthy dose of mutual lust.
Heero shifted his legs and used a finger to swab at the gel running a path down the seam of his crotch. My eyes darted from watching what he was doing back to his face. He wore a faint smile, but it was warm and inviting. And it was all I needed. I leaned forward, hands flat to the mattress and kissed him in a lingering caress of lips.
"You didn't lose, by the way," I near whispered against his mouth. "I was so distracted, I forgot to place your other hand. And that's sort of cheating." I caught his laugh with another kiss even as I moved.
I was in his lap, his hands on me, one on a hip and the other, a palm flat against my back. Never had a second lasted an eternity as it did then. My vision narrowed to Heero's face; his eyes opened to an impossible width and his lips parted with a soft whoosh of breath. A roaring filled my ears, and though I felt the cry leave my mouth, I never heard its sound.
Strong thrusts, and rocking hips shook the bed. His sweat mingled with mine on our skin. My fingers clawed at his shoulders; his buried themselves into the fleshiness of my hips and butt. Smells mixed and hung thick in the air - the expensive Irish Spring wooded soap, AstroGlide, and Heero's musk, maybe it was my own. Using Heero's example kiss, the feel of him topping me was as a mouse to an elephant in difference.
He filled me.
The physical act of fucking brought cries from my throat, from his, and each sound triggered another vibrating thrum in my cock. Breathing became gulping breaths between the shouts. The pulse in my neck was almost painful; the wild beating of my heart was. A grayness crowded the edge of my sight, and I focused on his eyes. The blue forced away all other color and I was lost.
I threw back my head and cried out.
Heero's ceiling disappeared and suddenly I was laying on my back, weathered slat-boards rough against my summer browned skin. The wind as faint as it was, blew through the leaves overhead, rustling them softly. A hand sought mine, clasping it in friendship and love.
"Someday, little brother," Solo's voice was so clear. "We're gonna get out of here. Maybe get ourselves a jet or a rocket and go to outer-space." His dirty, sweaty boy smell was so strong, I could taste it. "One of these days, Luke, you're gonna fly. And ain't nobody going to keep you down."
The off-white, textured paint of Heero's bedroom flooded my view. I'd stopped moving, the bed stopped rocking, and Heero was stiff in his release, his hands holding me in place as his hips rose off the mattress in one last thrust upward. My body was vibrating, shivering and shuddering and somewhere inside, the longing to see those leaves fluttering the tree above our shelter away from home again, disappeared.
Yeah, Solo, you were right. I flew.
Heero's eyes were open and their impossible blue shrank to a more normal size. He was watching me, his look almost wary; his lips parted sucking in air. My toes were tingling, and a vein at my temple pulsed a slow beat. He wasn't the only one sucking air. His skin was flushed, hot under my fingers. Releasing my taloned hands from their clutch on his shoulders to slide them down over his chest, I marveled once more over its smoothness.
I didn't so much as collapse into him, as the attempted kiss I meant to give failed. At some point during our activity, he'd slipped down from his upright position, and now only the pillows behind his head and back kept him from being flat on the mattress. His chest was warm against my cheek and the frantic beating of his heart slowed gradually. The death grip on my hips was gone; a gentle scratching from blunted nails raked over my back in a steady pattern.
It was done. But it wasn't the fact my cherry had been good and popped that circled my mind. No, it had to be something as disassociated as, "how'd you get this?" I mumbled into his chest, a fingertip traced the slightest white line within my sight.
When Heero grunted, I felt his chest move and when he spoke, its rumbling vibrated in my ear. "During the eighty-nine quake. The building I was in collapsed."
"Oh." I was up north then, but remembered. The pocket fantasyland I'd been in slowly faded and reality crept like a runner stealing second. The more unpleasant aspects of being a bottom was making an appearance. I pushed up from his chest, muscles spasmed in the attempt to defy gravity. "Shit."
The bastard half smiled at my distress. A hand left my back, and he tilted us sideways for a moment as he reached for something on the night stand. "Here," he offered, a box of tissue in hand.
Carefully I slid off of him, and with his help, kept the condom where it belonged and the leaking minimal. Tissues flew from his hand in wadded up missiles and I watched him mop up the come smeared over his navel and abdomen. He even swiped over my belly. That was my second time coming on him and a part of my brain was planning how to make it a third.
He turned on his side, and we lay face to face, neither speaking. But that was okay with me. I wasn't sure what to say. Hell, I wasn't sure what I to think. Sensations clouded everything; the gentle press of his fingers on the skin at my waist. The hair of his leg catching on the hair on mine as he rubbed his between mine. The damp, musky smell of our come and sweat lurked in the narrow space between us. His breath was warm and steady against my cheek and he was watching me again.
"Are you..." he started to ask.
My brain still engaged in processing what I was feeling, I could only nod to the unfinished question. Nerves everywhere seemed to have come to life and were shouting for attention. Loose hair trapped under Heero's shoulder tugged on my scalp, making my head itch. Skin tissue below my left hip griped in protest at being handled the way it had. My cock was giving me its rendition of a sleepy cat napping in a patch of sun. And my ass, it tingled. It smarted a little. And it wanted more. That made me smile. Fuck yeah. I wasn't going to be anything like Greg.
I think I surprised him with the kiss I laid on him. Maybe he was expecting more of a punch to the jaw, but damn, all I wanted to do was show him how fine I was. And to give him back a taste of that tenderness he'd shown me. My lips were on his and he jerked away before settling against me. My arm circled his shoulder, pulling him to my chest and I threw a leg over his thigh, drawing him closer to me. I wanted to sink into him, have him meld into me - at least for the moment.
Somewhere on the floor, a phone rang. In the back of my mind, I knew it wasn't mine, but I broke apart from him anyway. He licked his lips and the phone rang again. We both looked toward the end of the bed and he started to move.
"That's mine, and usually means something's up at the gallery," he was saying sliding his feet off the mattress and onto the floor.
Moving more slowly, I slid off the bed and picked up my jeans. I figured I should probably check my messages as well. I hadn't since leaving Phoenix that morning and felt a little guilt creeping in. I was supposed to call Quatre after the session and let him know how it went.
"It's okay, Marci. I understand," Heero was telling someone.
My phone was telling me I had five messages. The first from Quatre, reminding me to stop by his place for dinner after my session. The second, Quatre again, changing the meeting place to the restaurant Trowa was chef in. I grinned into the phone and sat on the edge of the bed. Quatre was talking about some new dish Trowa was introducing and he had to be there. Listening to blondie ramble, I picked up a business card off the floor. The third message was from one of the coaches calling off practice in the morning, something about a rest day before the game on Sunday. I turned the card over in my fingers.
"Officer Landstrom?" the doc asked, bending over picking up wadded tissues. "This is Heero Yuy, owner and director of the gallery..."
The forth message played and a stranger's voice, impatient and harried, informed me he was Doctor Chang Wufei and would be unable to meet as planned but would I call on Monday to reschedule. My eyes were automatically reading the card I held - Heero Yuy, PhD, Structural Engineer. Fuck me. I almost dropped the phone.
A stranger just fucked me. I let a stranger fuck me. He put his dick in my ass and fucked me. The card crumpled in my fist and I glared up at the fucking bastard. He was still talking into the phone, something about an alarm system and new security company. But wait... Images, clear and sharp replayed. He had tried, had been telling me all night who he was and who he wasn't. I looked him over again.
Fuck. I rubbed my eyes with a knuckle, wishing I could wipe the twisted nightmare away. He was gorgeous, strong and tender. He wasn't a therapist, but had brought me something I felt certain only a handful of others ever could. But ...was it really a nightmare?
I wasn't a virgin any more; at least that had been accomplished. My ass was telling me it wanted more, and my cock was waking from its nap reminding me how fuckable it found that man. The hollow place inside me seemed less than it had been; I felt more content than I ever remembered being. Watching Heero pause in picking up another tissue, listening intently to whatever was being told to him, I could almost feel his arms as they'd been embracing me as he told me of his mother, as I told him of mine.
Fuck. A part of me was telling me to get the hell out of there. And part was telling me to pull my head out of my ass, because what was done, was done and if I walked out now, I'd be missing out on something wonderful. In my ear, the last message played and Trowa was saying how they'd missed me at dinner, hoped all was well, and to join him in the morning at the gym. I shook my head. He was still trying to set me up, the bastard.
Heero had closed his phone and knelt by my feet, picking up scattered bits of stuff knocked off the night stand. I watched him for a moment, trying to decide what the hell I was going to do. His hand closed over an ankle.
"Don't move. A container of tacks spilled open and I don't want you to step on one." His hand was warm on my foot, leaving it bereft when he moved it. Fuck. He didn't know me, but what I'd shown him in the past few hours. And yet...
"You never did introduce yourself," I was saying before I knew I was going to.
From his crouched position, he looked up, his fingers still plucking tacks off the carpet. "That's right, I didn't." He brushed a hand off on his thigh and held it out. "Heero Yuy." And he smiled. Fucking bastard.
I took his hand in mine, grasped it firmly but without challenge. "It has been my pleasure to meet you," I told him, humor winning over. Ah, man, but fuck it. Did it really matter? Did it fucking really matter after all? Watching him laugh, seeing it reflected in his eyes, and knowing I was going to be there in the morning sharing his bed, I guessed it didn't.
Closing my phone, I leaned back and enjoyed the view watching him finish cleaning up. The muscles playing under his skin, I named as each stood out, defined. His hair fell forward into his eyes and he tossed his head to push it back, only to have it drop forward again. Under an arm, I heard a slight crinkle and pulled up the second condom. Holding it between my fingers, I read the caption - ribbed for her pleasure. I shot a glance at Heero, and wondered how those little nobs of rubber felt sliding in. And if it did bring more pleasure or was that just some advertising gimmick.
He stood and tossed the tack container in a drawer. I was aware of him moving away, saying something over his shoulder as I put my phone on the night stand next to his. The condom I placed carefully on the corner, thinking it'd be used shortly. And then I stared at the wadded card in my palm. I thought again of Murphy, fate and destiny and could only laugh. The ifs of this day were stacked high, and if only one of them had happened, I wouldn't be where I was at this moment. I looked over at Heero again. Maybe Murphy wasn't such a bad friend after all.
Heero was bending over, straightening his slacks, preparing to put them on and I move close behind him. Hands on his hips, I bent over him and kissed the back of his neck.
"Where do you think you're going?" I nearly growled in his ear. Yeah, nap-time was over for a certain party and it was busy prodding parts of Heero now.
"There happens to be," he was saying looking over his shoulder at me. "a Greek pastry sitting on the counter in the kitchen I'd like to get personal with." He stepped into his pants and nudged me back with an elbow. He turned and with a sweeping glance up and down my body as he zipped up, he added with a twisted smile, "I think I'm going to need the energy."
Wait. Heero. Pastry. Custard filled.
I was wearing a goofy grin as he walked away. Oh yeah, we were going to get some more. I snagged my jeans up from the floor and heard the door open. "I'm still buying breakfast in the morning," I said loudly. From down the hall, Heero let out a grunt and I shoved myself into my jeans. "And make some coffee," I called out and smiled hearing a laugh trail back from the living room. Passing through the doorway, I had to laugh. Me and my fucking luck.