10-Jul-2004
Title: Duelling Banjos
Author: Natea
Pairing: 1=2
Warnings: Semi - BDSM, not NCS, Slash.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own gundam wing.
He woke up to the velvety blackness of a blindfold, the knot of which was pressing hard into the back of his head, where it was resting against something soft. There were cold bands circling his wrists and he was pulled up short at the attempt to remove the covering from his eyes. He was restrained.
And not alone.
He stayed quiet, thinking. For the briefest of moments escape plans began to grow, but there was something different and he let them settle back.
He had his suspicions, there was only one person he trusted enough to remain asleep in the presence of and he could tell by the lack of fuzziness that he had not been aided in his slumber by anything unnatural. Just a deep sleep following an exhausting few days.
There was no sound to signal the presence of another person there but somehow he could feel it. His skin was prickling and the fine hairs at the base of his neck were beginning to tingle. He strained his ears, listening for even the faintest of noises, but there was nothing.
The boldest approach often led to the rewards and so he cleared his throat and spoke. "Where am I?"
The silence stretched out for a while and he was beginning to doubt his belief that he was not alone when finally there was a voice.
A very familiar voice.
But an unfamiliar cadence.
"You're a soldier. You should already know."
And he did, he realised. The surface he was laying on was soft and comfortable and very, very intimate. The faint smell from the pillow beneath his head was something he breathed in every night. He was still in his bedroom.
Somehow the knowledge wasn't comforting.
"What's going on?" He strained his arm, focusing all his strength at the one limb and pulling at his right shackle impotently but it refused to budge. Panic swelled in his chest and he strained his ears, listening for any sound, not liking the vulnerability of the blindness at all.
The room was deafening in its silence so the voice suddenly whispering in his ear came as a complete shock to him, only the material from the blindfold prevented the puff of air from caressing his ear. "Don't you ever get bored... " the nip of teeth on the unprotected earlobe created an explosion of goose bumps down his spine, " ...of doing everything your way?"
He swallowed hard in an attempt at wetting a mouth gone suddenly dry. "I don't follow you."
"I think you do... I think you follow far too well... far too often." Coolly confident words closely followed by the lightest of touches on his forehead, brushing the tickle of bangs to one side before the tip of a finger grazed down the side of his face, nail scratching gently. It scraped over his mouth and he parted his lips slightly; an unconscious invitation. It wasn't acknowledged.
"Are we in this together?"
He licked his lips, whether to remove the tingle from that digit, or to try and taste the other he didn't know. "Pretty hard to tango alone."
The fingertip had been joined by three others, all of which began to smooth down his throat, travelling along the angle of his shoulder, down his side; feather-light touches that never left his skin. He swallowed again... hard.
"I thought this kind of thing was known as the mambo." A chuckle, "Besides, that's not what I mean." The tone was faintly amused.
"The Mattress Mambo." he corrected, before pushing the query, trying as best as he could to ignore the tendrils of sensation that were floating in the wake of that talented hand. "What do you mean?" He shuddered a little as the finger nails scraped over a particularly sensitive patch of skin. "And why the blindfold?"
The hand had slipped down to his waist and began the return journey up his side underneath his shirt, palm pressed flat and warm against his skin. "Why not." was the whispered answer. He shivered at the sound.
His partner thought he had a bedroom voice, husky and low, full of grit and gravel... but to him there wasn't anything as 'come to bed' erotic as when he could get the other to speak without his voice engaging. Whispers of air and little else. Something that had to be voiced within those strongly defended personal boundaries to be heard.
He needed to see. Clearing his throat he muttered a, "Take it off," to the room; a distinct plea present in his voice. Again there was a delay before the reply, and his fingers curled impotently against the air in frustration.
"Oh, but I am."
The 'thunk' of an item of clothing hitting the floor sounded loud in the room. He gritted his teeth both at the purposeful misinterpretation and the mental image that the sound conjured up.
"I meant the blindfold." He groaned between his teeth as the hand returned, ghosting over his chest, flicking the buttons from the buttonholes deftly one by one. One side of the shirt was smoothed back, exposing his torso. His stomach muscles tightened in anticipation as the tips of the fingernails brushed across the surface of his belly, travelling up and across to slide under the flap of shirt still covering him.
"I know what you meant." Came that near silent voice once more, right before a wet heat closed itself over his nipple. He gasped out loud and pulled at the restraints once more, metal jangling against the bed frame. The rasp of a tongue slid across his chest and then pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva that caught every hint of breath from the other boy and translated it into something simultaneously tingling cold, and burning hot.
The hand under his shirt was resting over his rapidly beating heart, smouldering and motionless, fingers pressing in hard then relaxing in a rhythmic cycle. He was reminded of the actions of a cat when it was content... although if he wasn't mistaken this particular cat was after more than just the cream.
"What do you want?"
"I want you." Hot suction on his nipple once more. He bit his lip to maintain his concentration against the assault. Bastard.
"You... already... have me." His back arched a little without his conscious consent, pushing his chest forward into that infuriating heat. He growled... whether at his lack of control or the situation he wasn't sure.
"I have some of you." The voice breathed. "I have the part you give to others... what I want isn't that."
"What is it then?" He asked, the hand was moving in small circles now over his left nipple, he was burning up... and not just there. There was a fire stoking in his abdomen and a blazing line arching its way to his groin with every little tiny motion. The sound of ragged breathing was audible and he fought to breathe normally.
"I want you to trust me."
"I... " he closed his eyes beneath the blindfold as the hand left its position over his heart and slid downwards slowly, agonisingly. "I... do trust you."
The pad of a thumb slid beneath his waist band, the rest of the hand splaying out flat over the soft abdomen. "I know you do... to a point... "
He opened his mouth to argue but the tongue dragging over his jaw line sent his sentence scattering, fragmented, to the four winds. There was the barest scrape of teeth against his skin and then the other drew away. "You trust me some. You'd be out of those cuffs and halfway to the next city by now if you didn't... " The hand slipped across his stomach, pulling warmth in its wake. " ...but you don't trust me completely."
He was beginning to hate that blindfold for cutting him off from the sight of the other. Something out of the ordinary was going on and he could detect very little in the voice to hint at what it could be. He made to rub the side of his head against his upraised arm in an attempt at dislodging the material but slender fingers in his hair stopped him in his tracks.
"Stop that!" came the voice once more, a growled order this time, as the fingers tightened and pulled back slightly, dragging his head reluctantly back. He bared his teeth in a snarl of frustration.
"What the hell is going on?"
"I'm sick of this, is what's going on." was the answer. There was a ‘clunk' as a shoe was toed off, followed shortly after by its partner. The mattress dipped suddenly and he felt the slide of the other's thigh as it moved to straddle his legs, the weight of the other pilot heavy against him. "You have issues."
He laughed, a sharp sound. "I have issues? I have issues... have you ever taken a good look at yourself?"
"This isn't about me... at least, I don't think it is." The weight on his body shifted suddenly, mattress dipping by his shoulders as his partner's hands found a resting place there and he brought his weight forward onto all fours. "Maybe your issues are about me, I don't know."
"So you want to find out?"
"Hmmm."
"Really?" He felt the exhale of breath against his face and the ire grew. Jerking his head forward roughly his mouth collided with the elusive lips of the other boy. Fool. He pushed his tongue into that mouth violently, knowing the other could pull away at any time if they wanted to, determined to taste as much as he could before they did. But they didn't seem to want to as he claimed every surface he could find as his own, remaining passive but responsive under the onslaught.
He kept it up as long as he could, taking irate pleasure in the noises he was evoking, but finally the burning in his lungs overwrote the burning in other parts of his body and he broke away, pulling on the lower lip, breathing heavily. He smirked as another set of harsh pants became audible... payback.
"So... " he panted out, licking his lips, feeling the heat from the kiss still lingering there. "Issues?"
" ...Hmm?"
The other voice sounded puzzled and delightfully muzzy and he almost laughed at the ease of the attack. Feeling ever more confident he pushed his hips up hard until the line of his erection met that of its counterpart. At the contact his attacker hissed out something that sounded suspiciously like a curse, and brought his head forward, pressing his temple on the line of his clavicle, crushing the collar of his forgotten shirt. Never one to miss the chance, he brought his chin down and rubbed his cheek against the soft hair that was suddenly within reach.
He felt a quiet juddering at the contact point between their bodies and frowned as it grew. Incredulous. "Are you laughing?"
No answer, but the juddering grew in force. The head on his shoulder pressed further in to him before pulling away, slight chuckles now audible. "You drive me crazy sometimes, you know that." The voice was softer than he'd heard it before, fond.
He blinked, eyelashes dragging on the blindfold, not quite sure how to take the comment. " ...Issues?" he murmured uncertainly after a while.
"Hmm... issues." A hand grasped his erection through the cloth of his trousers firmly and squeezed. "Namely this."
"Fuck!" He threw his head back against the pillow as the darkness behind his eyelids flashed to white for a second. By the time he had gathered his senses back together again the hand was inside his fly and closing around his erection with a knowing touch.
A cool, lube slicked touch.
"What the hell?"
"Like I said," came the amused reply, "you have issues."
"I didn't think you meant with that." He hissed out the final word as those fingers found a sensitive spot and exploited it ruthlessly.
"Oh, but I do mean with this." Another open mouthed, teeth scraping kiss on his jaw line. "I've been patient... so patient," a free hand slipped up and twisted his nipple hard. " ...but you make it so... damn... hard... sometimes." The words were punctuated by hard, rough pulls at his erection, he bit his lip to stifle the groan.
"So... you do... this?"
"I don't want to." Clumsy hands pulled at his trousers, yanking the waist line down to mid thigh. He had given up all pretence of normal breathing by now, panting out his words from between dried lips. "I gave you so many chances, but you never followed through."
"So you decided to... to just take it anyway?"
"No." The hands drew away, leaving him balanced and unfulfilled. He groaned and shifted slightly against the mattress. "I'm offering you a chance to explain to me why."
He could feel those eyes on his face and turned it away, shrugging his shoulders as best he could in the position he was in, trying to gather himself together again. "I don't know why."
"Oh you know... but I don't." The mattress shifted as the body above him pulled back, sitting on his thighs. A sigh. "You know I would never force you into anything... if there's a reason... any reason. Tell me?" The last was a plea.
He sighed and swallowed hard, the burning feeling still imminent between his legs. "Take off the blindfold... please."
The fingers were there in a flash, pushing up the blindfold so that it dragged his bangs away from his face before falling back one by one as they were released. He opened his eyes and squinted slightly in the half-light of the room. The first thing he focused on was his partner's face, deep blue eyes staring intensely at him. He stared back, searching for the answers to his questions in those passion dilated pupils.
"Shit" His eyes widened in surprise. "You really don't mind, do you." It was a revelation.
"Mind? Why would I mind?"
"Never mind," he said, then laughed.
"What?"
He snorted out a half amused, half annoyed growl. "All this time... I don't believe it." Raising his head up he took a good long look down his body, at the crumpled shirt, half on half off, the trousers rucked down and erection standing tall. "I'm sorry." he laughed. "I'm sorry you had to go to these lengths."
The face above him looked pleased. "So I can let you go?"
"Please." He nodded, "I can't - participate - properly if my movement is compromised after all."
Teeth gleamed whitely as the other pilot leaned forwards, over him, a bare chest hovering over his face. There was the click of a set of handcuffs, his hand dropped down to the pillow and he flexed it once automatically. The other was released soon after.
He grinned and attacked, grabbing the other's waist as he surged up and twisted, reversing their positions rapidly. There was a moment of confusion as their legs tangled and they bumped foreheads hard, but then it was over and he was grinning down at his partner who was looking decidedly smug.
"You know, Heero," he grinned, "There was no need for all of this. You could have just told me outright that you wanted to be uke."
The End
(:./natea/banjos)
