This was their 8th move in the last 3 years. It had been bad enough when his mom remarried; worse when he realize it was a military man; horrible when he became an instant brother because of it; horrendous when he’d found out they’d be moving, and quite frequently.
His "brother" was quite used to picking up and moving—he’s spent his whole life bouncing from base to base. Plus, Heero reasoned, Duo was quite good at making friends wherever he went. Whether this trait was a result of nature or nurture, the young half-Japanese boy didn’t know and quite honestly didn’t care. And he wasn’t about to admit that he was the least be resentful of his "little brother’s" affinity for making friends.
The fact that Heero himself was rather shy and taciturn certainly didn’t help him any. That’s what made all these moves worse. Back home, he’d been born and raised in the small Floridian town—his father’s hometown, where he’d brought his wife back to live and raise their unborn baby. Heero had been 9 when the war broke out across seas. His father had been called back into service to help quiet the fires. He’d never come back home. It was almost five years later when his mother met Daniel Maxwell. Another 8 month and they were married. It wasn’t until a month after that when Daniel informed them all that he had been reassigned and they would be moving before the end of the following month.
Heero didn’t want to leave. He’d had friends there—a place where he belonged. And… and… He had… he had someone special there, too. Trowa. They’d promised to write each other everyday, and, for a couple of weeks, they did. But eventually, the letters only came once a week… once a month… sometimes not at all. Heero hadn’t heard form his ex-sweetheart in four months. Trowa’s last letter had told him about some new boy the other young man had meet. Heero hadn’t replied—he didn’t know what to say. Congratulations on replacing me? Hurray?—and Trowa didn’t send another letter.
After 8 moves you sort of pick out a routine. For instance, there were some things you didn’t bother to unpack because you knew you’d just have to pack them up eventually anyway. And there were some things you packed right on top for immediate removal—like the picture of his mom and dad and him on his 6th Birthday when they’d gone to Disney World. Duo had quickly gotten him into the habit of "scooping out the territory" as the other boy called it. All it was was learning the layout of the base and nearest town of their current residence. This was the time Duo’s ability to make friends shined brightest. Before the end of the day, half the population would know who he was and, miraculously in Heero’s opinion, Duo would remember almost all of the names and faces they’d met. There was one routine Heero had shown to Duo, which the other boy readily assimilated.
Heero had been in Karate classes since he was young and while it was true that most of the bases they’d moved to didn’t offer karate classes per se, most offered some form of martial arts. Duo had found the idea of learning martial arts "neat" and thus, insisted on joining with Heero each place they moved to.
The building they were currently standing before was clearly a dojo of some kind, however, neither boy could read the sign, or any of the characters on the windows.
"Hey, Heero. You’re Japanese. What’s it say?" Duo asked, knocking against the older boy playfully.
The silent boy didn’t bother to point out that he’d been born and raised in America, not Japan, and that the writing probably wasn’t even in Japanese anyway. Duo knew these things for himself and was just purposefully being annoying and giving his "older brother" a tough time.
"Lee Tsung," a voice replied from behind them. Bother boys started and twirled around. Both boys did a double take at the vision before them. Dark ebony silk fell to pristine-white clad shoulders. Large onyx almond shaped eyes, framed in silver and green wire rimmed glasses. Thin lips pulled into a nearly straight line. A strong jaw and elegant neck that disappeared into a… a… well, they weren’t sure exactly what the garment was called, but it was all white from his shoulders to wrists, all the way down to his ankles.
Irritably, Wufei cleared his throat and pushed back another annoying strand of hair that insisted on blocking his line of vision. He’d yell at Meiran later for stealing his last hair tie. His bad mood worsened when he realized he was being stared at. "DO you mind?" he said in his best English. Damn military brats,’ he cursed silently.
Surprisingly, it was Heero who found his voice first. "Excuse us. We were searching for a school of martial arts from which we may take lessons." Ack! What was wrong with him???? He sounded so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Mentally, Wufei nodded. He’d suspected as much. "You will not find one here that will accept new students," he told them. "Return to your base, Americans, and take your lessons there," he added scathingly.
Duo’s face took on a pleasant smile—one that had been known to charm many a sour expressions in the past. "It’s been my experience that base dojo’s suck," he replied. Beside him, Heero nodded in silent agreement, thankful Duo had found his voice again.
Despite himself, the Chinese youth felt his lips twitch with a smile. "Me thinks you speak truth. Still," he added, stepping around the pair. "It is policy here not to except new students."
"Are you a student here?" the loud mouth American asked, stepping after the white clad youth.
Wufei Nodded.
"Then how’d you get to be a student? If they don’t accept new students and all?"
Wufei paused and looked back at them. "I was born here," he answered simply, before opening and stepping through the screen door.
"Wait!" Heero called after him. "What’s you name?"
Wufei paused from shutting the door, looking them both over once before returning his piercing gaze to the darker-colored boy. "My name is not important to you," he answered, shutting the screen door soundly with satisfaction.
Duo and Heero just stared after him.
"He was pretty hot," Duo mentioned.
"Shut up," Heero grumbled—cursing not for the first time, the rather revealing letter the other boy had found the second to last move. Duo just laughed and led the way back to the base.
Inside the dojo, Wufei sighed. He really hated those arrogant pricks who thought they could just waltz down from there little base, wave their hand, and have their every wish granted. Though he had to be honest to himself, part of his animosity to the pair was due to his own physical reaction to them. Both young men had been quite something to look at.
"Wufei?"
The Chinese boy quickly chased away his inappropriate thoughts and entered farther into the dojo. Really, it was his home. His grandfather’s home, where he had lived since birth.
"Grandfather?" he called out, finding the elderly man in one of the side rooms, looking out into the street. "Who were those young men?"
"Just army brats," he spat.
"And what was it they wanted?"
"Nothing," the boy replied, more of a mumble this time.
The old man looked at the boy with sad, dark eyes. "MY grandson, do not push all away because of the actions of a few."
"Grandfather, I really don’t think—"
"No, Wufei," the old man sighed wearily and perhaps leaned too heavily upon his cane. "You need to. You need to…" He shook his head, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "I must rest. The others will be here in another hour."
Wufei frowned heavily, going to his grandfather’s side to help the old man back to his bed. "Do not worry about the next class," he told the man. "I will take them gladly."
"Thank you, Wufei. You have been much help to me." The boy nodded, but said nothing. What could one say to a dying man? A man who was once so full of life? Who now lay wasting away as the disease at up his insides.
The frown felt etched permanently on his face. Remaining even after he left the bedroom. His grandfather was dying. His only family left in the world, and he was powerless to save the man. Even the drugs that would help ease the man’s pain was held without his reach.
Wufei paused, looking back towards the street. Those boys… perhaps they would have paid…?
No, but, it was too late to think along those lines now. He’d sent them away. Good. Hew as glad to be rid of them. He wanted nothing to do with Americans and their money.
He didn’t know what prompted him to return to the dojo the next day. Duo had taken off for the arcade with some of his new friends, but Heero had begged off. Nothing new there. Still, here he was, standing in front of the same building as yesterday, instead of at home, in his room, reading or writing, or finishing up his homework. He knew that a part of him really wanted to see that boy again. It was like de ja vu…
"Are you playing on making this a habit?" the same voice as yesterday asked.
The same as yester, Hero started, and was knocked breathless again by the other boy’s beauty. He wore the same white outfit, but today his hair was severely pulled back into a neat, orderly ponytail behind his neck.
Heero really wished Duo were here to say something witty. "H-hello," he managed after a moment of complete staring. The other boy nodded. "I was—I was wondering if you might have some suggestions, of where I could practice besides the base. Some recommendations…?"
Yeah, okay, that sounded okay…
Wufei frowned. Hadn’t he asked himself this scenario last night? If the boys should return and ask again, what will you do? "Tell me," he asked, staring up at the other young man. "How much would you be paying for these lessons?" He cursed himself for asking.
Heero paused. This was a different attitude from yesterday. Briefly, he wondered where the change in heart came from. "What do you think is reasonable?" he asked in answer.
Wufei took only a moment to think, before naming a ridiculously high sum. Surprise and guilt washed over him when the other boy nodded affirmative after only a moment’s contemplation.
"American or local?"
This was the worst of the crutch. Even at local price the sum was highly inflated. At American… Still, he answered American and the other boy still agreed, the fool.
"When can I begin my lessons?"
"Now?"
"Fine."
Wondering just what the hell had come over him, Wufei led the other boy inside his home, into one of the back rooms where the floor was completely covered with soft-clothed mats.
"What do you know?" Wufei demanded. As Heero began to rattle off a somewhat impressive list the Chinese man became more skeptical. Before the other man had finished his recitation, Wufei attacked.
The coffee-haired boy was taken by surprise, but luckily blocked instinctively. Off guard, unprepared, and unsound, Heero replied to each attack feeling more and more uncomfortable with the situation. He’d never really fought anyone before—not outside of practice. He didn’t do this to learn how to become a fighter, after all. He did it because it was something he enjoyed doing.
But this attitude only infuriated the Chinese youth whose every strike was blocked. "Fight back, damn you!" Wufei growled.
"I don’t want to hurt you," the other boy replied.
Wufei’s anger burst and Heero found his vertigo lapse. Somewhat owlishly, the blinked up at the boy standing over him. With a flush of embarrassment and something else, Heero’s body reacted to the sight of the other man, standing over him, flushed, shining with a thin layer of sweat… He almost groaned and reached for his privates when his cock tightened. He quickly thought to redirect his thoughts, and asked, "Will you teach me?"
Wufei continued to frown, but not as the other boy’s question. His thoughts were on his own body’s reactions to the sight of the young man sprawled out on his back, legs spread apart, wide like an invitation. Wufei growled at himself, staling over to the corner of the room and shedding his over coat. "Get up," he ordered.
Obediently, the other boy regained his feet. "We will fight," Wufei told the American. "I will judge your worth."
There was a small nod before the other boy came at him, taking the offensive.
Heero told himself that this was only a form of assessment, not a real fight, and with that reassuring thought, he attacked the dark-haired, beautiful young man.
A montinage of styles collided into an attack form that left Wufei’s blood singing as he countered and retaliated. Sweat poured form his body as his breath hitched with active strain in his lungs. It had been too long since he’d been pushed this far. It was exhilarating. During one sequence of blocks and strikes, he felt it. He hadn’t *meant* to cop a feel of the other boy, his conscious insisted. But it couldn’t be helped after the fact, and the fact was… the American was sporting a hard on, just like himself. Spurred on, Wufei growled again, catching the other’s arm and twisting it behind the boy, pulling him back against him.
The exercise hadn’t eased Heero’s sexual frustrations any, and there was a moment when he was almost convinced that the strikes the Chinese boy was scoring weren’t really strikes at all, but thinly disguised caresses. Of course,, that was just wishful thinking on his part. Just another lovely gift of fate for being one in the sexual minority of things. What happened next almost made him come his pants.
His arms twisted up behind him, true, but than that beautiful body pressed up into his back and he could feel it. The other boy was as aroused as he was, and that arousal 3was pushing against his ass. Heero moaned, and pushed back, needing to feel that pleasurable pressure and friction.
There were voices from outside and Wufei cursed the time. "I have a class coming in," he told the desirable boy in his arms, not wanting to let go, but knowing he’d have to. "If… if you come back, later, I will… I will give you, private lessons," he managed to say, too embarrassed by his meaning to look at the other boy.
Heero swallowed, hard, and told himself to behave. The Chinese boy was *not* coming on to him like that—not matter how much he might have wanted him to. He nodded anyway—any excuse to be here, right? "What time?"
"Seven thirty?" With luck, his grandfather would be asleep by seven, Wufei thought.
Heero turned, not trying to break the other boy’s hold on him, only wanting to look up into that beautiful face. He had not way of knowing the other boy was thinking the same thing about him. "What’s you name?" he asked softly.
"Wufei. Chang Wufei," he answered, eyes darting down to those full looking lips and swallowing. "You may call my Wufei."
"Wufei…" he tried the name out on his tongue.
"And you?" Wufei asked, a teasing smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Heero."
Wufei almost laughed until he realized the other boy was serious. "Alright, Heero. Be here at 7:30 tonight, and we can… see about that private lesson."
Wufei’s hands moved over Heero’s back, down to cover his ass and squeeze those tight little cheeks. Heero surges forward, hastily, pressing his lips to Wufei’s and nearly crying out when the Chinese youth ground his hips against him and returned the kiss more fully; Wufei’s tongue pushed between Heero’s lips and plunged inside that moist, hot orifice.
"Sensei?" a young voice called out.
Again, Wufei cursed time. "I have to go," he whispered hoarsely against Heero’s lips.
"I’ll come back," Heero promised. "Tonight."
"Don’t forget."
Heero didn’t even think that was possible.
What he had forgotten about was his brother. It had taken a good fifteen minutes to get Duo to leave him alone. On the pretense of walking to clear his mind about things the managed to get out of the house, side stepping his mother’s concerned looks. Even at top pace, he was ten minutes late. Hesitantly, he knocked on the front screen frame, but no one answered. Self consciously, he opened the door and went insides. He had an idea of where the room was and he head in that direction, calling out softly for Wufei.
Inside the room, the boy in question looked up at the figure in the doorway. He had returned--! "you’re late," Wufei said, swallowing back the disappointment he’d been wallowing in when he believe the other had stood him up.
Heero’s head bowed. "I apologize for making you wait," he said, not looking at Wufei, Afraid the other had changed his mind about giving me…private lessons.
"Come here."
Heero looked up sharply, but quickly complied, crossing the room to stand in front of Wufei. One hand threaded into his hair, fingers moving against his scalp, Wufei’s lips were inches away and Heero entertained the thought of dying if the other boy didn’t kiss him soon.
"Do you want this?" Wufei asked, holding his body tense, away from any further contact with the young man before him. Wordlessly, Heero nodded, tilting his face towards Wufei’s. "Do you know what this is?" Wufei asked, lips giving in to the desire to brush over Heero’s.
"Whatever you’ll give me," the coffee-haired boy answered, pressing his lips up against Wufei’s. His tongue hesitantly left his own mouth to discover a new, warm, silky orifice. A hand ghosted down Heero’s back, planting firmly on his ass and kneading the muscles there. Heero’s own arms wrapped lightly up around Wufei’s upper torso as if to hold the boy against him permanently. Wufei hand no intention of leaving right then anyway.
"Have you ever…?"
Again, Heero answered with a little movement of his head, this time a negative shake. "No. have you…?"
"Yes," Wufei swallowed. "Do you know—"
"I’ve read some…some…"
Wufei decided the other boy looked very becoming with a rosy flush coloring his cheeks. He kissed him again before the other could fumble through an explanation. He worked Heero’s shirt up out of his jeans—absently noting that there was something classically sexy about a white tee shirt and a faded pair of jeans. He lifted the material far enough that he could take one dusky rose nipple between his lips and suckled the flesh.
Heero’s eyes and hormones flared. He’d never bothered to touch his body except while cleaning it, and the times he had masturbated, attention was given solely to one area. Even with Trowa, they’d only ever gotten so far as some kissing and petting. It was weird to think that another man sucking on his chest could be so pleasurable, but then, another hand stole inside his jeans and he forgot about analyzing this.
Somehow Wufei managed to get Heero onto the floor, pants undone, and polling around his knees. No underwear. Goods! The man was walking sin. Eagerly, he trailed hot kisses down Heero’s tone stomach, chin nuzzling that velvety hardness. He dipped his head and kissed the base of the shaft, nibbling up to the crowned tip, his tongue laving a hot, wet path over the surface, urged on by the god awful sexy little moans and mews coming form the other boy as he wreathed behind Wufei’s touch. Gorgeous. He held the shaft at the base and swallowed the glistening head. Heero cried out, hips arching forward into that warm wet mouth.
He eased Heero’s jeans down the rest of the way, his hand caressing those wonderfully toned legs and waited for Heero to toe his shoes off before chasing the denim all the way off.
Wufei allowed the boy’s responses to turn him on farther, reaching blindly for the bottle of oil he’d pocketed earlier, he poured a generous amount onto his hand. Continuing his administrations to Hero’s very delectable anatomy, Wufei testingly, brushed one oily finger across the tight ring of puckered flesh inches away from his face.
"Tell me what you want," he murmured, aware of the sensation of his breath over that hard, saliva-slicked penis.
"Please…" Heero moaned. Wufei smiled. His last lover was a talker during sexual interludes, turning the dark haired boy onto the pleasures of verbal exchange during sex. Again, his fingers brushed the sweet bud, one teasingly almost dipping inside.
"Please," Heero repeated, hips wiggling back against those fingers, searching for more penetration than Wufei was provided. "Teach me."
Wufei’s smile increased. He’d forgotten their supposed reason for being here this late. "I will," he promised, leaning up to kiss Heero’s sweet, willing lips. His tongue dipped between those lips, and, simultaneously, two fingers plunged into that tight, virgin ass.
Wufei’s lips caught Heero’s gasp as his tongue imitated the motions of his fingers , foreshadowing exactly what he planned on teaching the other boy. Heero’s body wormed and squirmed, seemingly trying to crawl all up into Wufei. Anxious for more of the other man’s touch. Gasping, tears of need shining in his blue eyes, Heero tore his mouth away from Wufei’s and begged. "Please," he panted. "Please, just… just…"
"Yes?" Wufei lips teased Heero’s throat, one hand working that sweet ass while the other moved Heero against his pelvis.
"Do it," Heero’s voice breathed, body arching up into Wufei’s deliciously. "Do me."
Wufei almost laughed, peeling himself away from that sinfully wanton body long enough to shed his own clothing. He poured more oil into his hand and moved it lazily over his hard penis as he ordered Heero to turn around.
Somewhat hesitantly, the dark haired American boy complied, crawling over onto his hand and knees before turning to look over his shoulder at Wufei. "Like this?"
"Just like that," the Chinese boy replied, kneeling behind Heero and spreading his legs impossibly wider apart. He took his shaft in hand and with the other eased Heero back until his creamy tip brushed and smeared over Heero’s’ entrance. He leaned a little into the boy beneath him, enough to hold his cock in place without entering him.
He reaching up and placed both hands under Heero’s arms, on his sides, and slowly, slowly, Wufei pulled his hands down over Heero’s sides enjoying the short quick breathes the other boy was swallowing, before his hands found purchase at Heero’s waist. IN one quick plunge, he pulled Heero back as his hips thrust forward. Heero gasped as he felt his body being penetrated fully for the first time. Wufei’s breath left him in one long grown as he adjusted to the feel of the boy around him. So tight. So incredible. "are you okay?" he thought to ask after another moment.
Dazedly, Heero nodded. "Y-yes. I think so." Cautiously, he moved, as if teasing out the fit. There was a little pull, but mostly Wufei’s cock slid nice and easy, in and out of his body.
Wufei groaned, his eyes shutting tight as if to cut off all stimulus but the feel of the boy moving under him. "are you sure you’ve never done this before? God, Heero, you’re a natural."
A brief smile took his lips at the other boy’s compliment before Wufei’s hands tightened on his hips and Wufei took over again, moving in and out of his body, differing the temp, or the angle of impact, sometimes circling his hips. Heero gave up all control to him, crying out as Wufei too him, carried him into mind-blowing orgasm. The edges of the world blurred, his whole consciousness fuzzing over, and hew as barely conscious of the other man still moving inside him.
His breath was still shallow when the blood rushed back into his head, laying on his side, Wufei was still behind him, still inside him, Heero realized, a little surprised. Arms were wrapped lazily around him, fingers playing with his nipples again. He could get used to this, Heero thought.
:"You were made for pleasure," a warm voice whispered against his ear.
Heero pushed back against their joined hips experiencing the feel of soft cock moving inside him. "You give good love," he murmured back.
Wufei smiled, feeling his shaft twitch with renewed interest in response to the other boy’s actions. "Care to continue our private lessons?"
Heero rolled around, Wufei cock slipping regretfully from his body, but he made up for the loss by winding his arms around Wufei and kissing him. "Teach me," he answered.
Softly Wufei brushed dark bangs away from blue eyes. "For how long?"
"As long as you want me," the other boy replied, sealing the promise with a kiss.
End Part 3
Andrea Readwolf
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