07-May-2000
Warnings: language, lemon (It's returned!), mean Wufei
Notes: Didn't I say that there might be more lemon? :P ///blah/// is
dream sequence, and *blah* is thoughts or emphasis
Feedback: always appreciated
Disclaimers: GW and the G-boys are regrettably not mine. However, I'm
not stealing them for this... I swear, they came of their own will!
(Duo: hmmm... lemon, eh? 5x2? Hee hee, I'm gonna get some! You *bet*
your *buns* I'm there!
Heero: Is that a "+" for me? <squints> crap.
Apparently, I'm not.
TB: Up and coming?
Heero: <eyes light up; they
pause on Duo, who grins suggestively> Hn. Okay.)
Onto the fic! Thanks to everyone who has responded so far. I've gotten some wonderful responses, and Grace's really made me smile. Thanks all!
~TB
Duo nudged Quatre's arm. "Psst," he said.
The blonde boy refused to acknowledge him.
"Quatre!"
"Shh," said Trowa, on the other side of the Arabian.
"Somebody pass me the popcorn!"
Wordlessly, Trowa took the bag from Quatre's stiff hands and handed it over. Happily crunching, Duo went back to the movie. *Sheesh,* he thought. *Acting like we're in some kind of cinema. Isn't like we can't rewind, for Christ's sake! And besides, he already knows that the damn boat sinks.*
"Jack!" he mimicked, perfectly in time with the beautiful Rose. "Jack, I'll never let--hey!"
Quatre absently tagged a new tissue from his box as he resumed his seat after smacking Duo. Duo rolled his eyes.
While the old lady was dropping the rock into the ocean, Duo got up and went to the bathroom. He was half-aware of a horribly bored Wufei following him, and smiled to himself. He knew they were too tame for the Chinese boy sometimes--okay, most of the time--but the exposure to some counter-culture probably did Wufei good. The thought made him smile.
Wufei slipped into the toilet with him, and stared at the gilded mirrors and golden faucets that adorned every such room in Quatre's home. Long since used to the luxury, Duo more or less ignored it as he washed all the sticky butter off his hands, and dried them on one of the rich red towels neatly and artistically placed beside the sink. "Are you terribly bored?" he teased.
"I told you before, didn't I? I don't mind hanging out with you guys." Wufei had to stifle a yawn, though, as he spoke. Duo laughed. He'd caught the Chinese sleeping more than once during the hours-long movie.
Wufei growled convincingly as he slipped arms around Duo's slender waist from behind, biting teasingly into the neck that arched for him. Duo made a purring sound--Duo's warm husky voice was capable of such a wonderful range of enticing sounds--and Wufei began to slowly drop one hand down toward Duo's groin.
After the first time in the attic of the dorm, they'd never had intercourse again. Duo wasn't precisely *scared* of sex, but for various reasons Wufei hadn't quite understood, the braided boy was reluctant to commit to that level of intimacy, always avoiding the subject when it arose. It was one of the few aspects of Duo's personality that Wufei resented. He could, and did, satisfy whatever needs arose in other places, but when it came to Duo, Wufei was expected to be willing--if not happy--to simply agree with the other boy's reasoning and to settle for moments like these, when Duo was all his, and wanted his touch.
But he wasn't willing, he wasn't happy--not by a long shot. And in moments like these, Wufei took immeasurable delight in toeing the line. *Hah,* he thought, *catch him off guard--you don't hear him protesting now.*
Duo's breathing was slightly quickened as Wufei brushed his fingers lightly over the braided boy's thigh, moving inward. He turned to face Wufei, and pressed against him, so that their hips ground together, bringing a groan to Wufei's throat. Duo kissed him, still making small thrusting motions with his hips, teasing. As far as Wufei was concerned, that temptation was more than enough. The Chinese boy pushed his friend hard against the edge of the counter, and began to rub against him in earnest. Panting a little more harshly, Duo's fingers clenched in the folds of his shirt and he buried his heated face in the crook of Wufei's neck, biting his lip against making too much noise.
Wufei was reluctantly trying to work himself up to backing off before they did something Duo would regret, when he heard the doorhandle turn. A curse rose to his lips as he turned his head to glare at the intruder, only to die when he saw Heero Yuy standing there, gaping.
Wufei abruptly grinned.
Duo was not yet aware of the interruption; when Wufei paused in their movements, he made a sound of disappointment, and reached up, stroking his hands over Wufei's chest and nipping lightly with his small white teeth at the bronze skin of his throat. Wufei, grinning even more widely, made a sudden hard thrust into the American's hips, eliciting a gasp. Again and again he ground his body against Duo's; the friction of two denim-clad pelvises rocking against each other brought a highly visible flush to Duo's face, and his hands slipped more than once trying to find purchase on Wufei's hard, slender body.
Heero just stood there, too stunned to move.
Wufei had never been so excited so quickly... Knowing his rival was there, not six feet away, watching him ride Duo Maxwell and hating him more with each hitching whimper the braided boy voiced--it was like electricity racing along his spine, forcing his groin harder and faster against his partner's, lighting little blazes along every point of contact between their sweating bodies. God, he was going to explode--and Heero would see all of it!
"Mine," he growled, and slammed powerfully into Duo's body, bringing the promised orgasm like millions of white-hot stars bursting inside his flesh, bucking him against Duo and penetrated only dimly by his own cries. He clutched Duo's trembling body, triumph and ecstacy screaming through his body. This was the taste of victory.
When he looked again, Heero was gone.
Duo, a little dazed, held tightly to Wufei's warmth for a long time, before finally letting go and slumping wearily against the counter. "I can't believe you did that," he reproached--but he couldn't hide the affection and gratitude, not to mention the healthy dose of lust, that still shone in his eyes, and Wufei knew he was already forgiven. Chang used one hand to slick back sweat-dampened hair from his forehead, and kissed Duo firmly.
"I think I need a new pair of pants," he grinned lazily.
Duo flushed, but laughed. "It serves you right... " He shook his head, casting off the last of the haze of afterglow with an effort, and stood. "Here," he said, removing his outer flannel shirt and slinging it around Wufei's waist. He fussed a bit with the lay and drape of the fabric, until the tale-telling wetness on Wufei's slacks was casually hidden from view. "And if anyone asks why we look like we've been running a marathon," he finished, gently touching the other teenager's cheek, "*you>* get to deal with them."
*Oh, let's just pray they do,* Wufei thought.
Quatre turned the corner and--went flying, as a blindly running Heero Yuy slammed straight into him. Surprised, he blinked, and rubbed his bottom, staring up at his friend from the floor. "Ow!"
Heero caught himself from his own bounce against the nearest wall. He was breathing hard, his eyes were red--he cleared his throat twice before he managed to speak. "You okay?"
"Yeah... " Quatre got to his feet, wincing. "Are *you*? Was something wrong with the bathroom?"
Heero shook his head violently. "No!"
Put off his guard by his friend's increasingly strange behaviour, Quatre, for once, had no idea what to say.
Heero scrubbed furiously at his eyes. *I will NOT cry!* he swore inwardly. *Damnit, I WILL not!* But if he wasn't crying, then what was this wetness on his face, and the choking feeling in his throat?
An overly solicitous voice made an inquiry at his back. "Yuy? Are you all right?"
Wufei. Heero lifted a glare that by all rights should have melted the Chinese boy's head off his shoulders.
Duo was right behind him--still a little flushed, but with his eyes gone wide and round and worried, and he was coming toward Heero, hands outstretched to touch him. "Hee-kun? You okay?"
With a snarl, Heero shoved Duo away from. "How dare you?" he hissed. "What kind of sick game are you two playing?"
Duo stared at him. "What are you talking about?"
Trowa, having heard the noise, appeared in the hallway next to Quatre, one eyebrow eloquently raised.
"Maybe you should sit down for a minute," Wufei said, a tiny smirk hovering about his mouth. "You look like you just saw your worst nightmare coming... " He lingered over the word almost obscenely. "True," he added; and now the smirk was full.
Heero didn't wait. He took a step toward Chang, and threw the hardest punch he could.
///Black hair fell cloud-like around the suddenly pale face streaked with blood as Heero threw his enemy into the wall.///
"Hey!" Duo shouted, running to pry the two Asians apart as they suddenly fell in a tumble onto Quatre's rich carpet. Trowa was right behind him, grabbing Heero's arms and attempting to pry them off of Wufei's throat.
///"Heero!" Duo clutched at him, ripped at his arms frantically. "No, Heero, you're wrong, please stop!"///
Kicking and thrashing, they had Heero off of Wufei, only barely able to restrain him. Heero was growling--a furious, animalistic sound that did not abate even after they shoved him down to the floor and held him there. Eyes wide, face pale, Quatre helped Wufei up.
Wufei chose the wrong day to push the issue. He shook Quatre off, and viciously kicked Heero in the ribs.
///He rolled with the attack, ignoring the pain that flared along his side, pain that would have immobilized someone just slightly weaker. A second kick caught him in the face, spattering blood in his eyes and blinding him--he reached out sightlessly and caught the incoming ankle, twisting with all his superior strength, and was rewarded with the crash of a heavy body right on top of his own prone length. They twisted and jabbed at each other, grappling across the floor, and Duo, helpless, screamed and cursed at them and finally fired a shot, the bullet hitting the wood not an inch from their heads and spraying wood everywhere--///
Duo screamed at them, far past coherency. Quatre had his arms around the braided American now, trying to calm him, hush him. The huge butler, Rashid, who had come running at the commotion, now had the battling boys apart and was holding them at his considerable arms- length, but Duo was hysterical now and didn't realise that the fight had already ended. Duo hid his face in his hands, but his strangely frightened sobs were the only sound in the hallway, and no one seemed to know what to do.
After what seemed a long time, Rashid spoke. "Mr. Winner, I think you should take Duo to your room," he instructed. "Trowa, please go to the kitchen and get the young man a glass of ice water. And you two--" he glared at Wufei and Heero, bloody and bruised and sullen-- "You two are coming with me."
And so they parted.
End Part 13
(:./erin/rising13)
