07-Dec-1998
becki-luv and tzigane-darling asked me very nicely and tickled my tummy and so I gave in at the last minute and wrote this out, one of the last endeavors before the curtain of finals comes crashing down. ^_^ Everyone knows who they're obsessed with?
Wufei.
And so I've slashed Wufei with yet another G-boy at their urgings... So this fic is dedicated to Kuwabara no Miko and Tzigane. ^_^
Ja ne!
Talya
Wufei scrubbed at his face, exhausted, and patted the camouflage tarps with a casual, almost affectionate hand. "Rest well, Nataku," he murmured, voice subdued by the darkness that clung to the hilltops and smothered the uplifted branches overhead. The gleaming bulk of Gundam was unmarred by the firefight they had so recently survived, but he himself had nearly taken a dive once or twice escaping the corridors of the base he had penetrated.
He began trudging his painful way back to the dilapidated shack they had perfunctorily called home for the past few weeks. It wasn't large -- five rooms, two bedrooms, so four of them had been forced to double up -- but its advantages included a self-contained power supply and isolated, untainted water system. The only thing they needed to bring in was food, and themselves. Wufei had drawn the short straw and he had been sleeping on the living room sofa the entire time, which suited him.
With a heavy sigh Wufei shoved back gossamar-fine strands of hair, the silky stuff escaping his fingers and sliding from behind his ears. The tie had come loose at some point during his narrow escape from the complex, and he needed to replace it.
Who was he kidding? He paused to eye the unwinking light that burned in Maxwell and Yuy's room. ...Suited him just fine? Hell.
He was no innocent. It wasn't hard to divine what happened behind closed -- and locked; he'd checked -- doors at night. And Quatre and Trowa might be nearly silent when it came to coitus, if they had progressed that far, but Duo was noisy as a firecracker when he went off.
He resumed his careful measured paces back up to the house. The other four pilots had paired off as neatly as you please, but when he cared to admit it, he *was* jealous. And he *was* coming into keen awareness of awakening sexual senses.
"If only... Mei--" Wufei bit that thought off before it could fully form. It was like befouling a memory.
"Kuso," he muttered, soft, as he limped through the door and up to the kitchen sink. Sluggish lines of blood streamed down his arm, springing free of the bandage he had tied so tight around his upper bicep.
Lights flickered on overhead and Wufei blinked around the room with wide startled eyes, off-balanced. "Dare da - ?"
Heero Yuy padded into the cramped kitchen, barefoot, dark hair tousled, wearing nothing but a pair of loose pants gathered tight over his flat belly with a drawstring. His Prussian eyes were heavy-lidded but alert, like some lounging panther.
"Yuy," Wufei acknowledged him, stiff. "I did not mean to wake you." He kept his tone rigid and controlled to cover up the startled jangle of heat that the sight of him, half-naked and clearly out of bed, evoked.
"You didn't," Heero returned, one dark eyebrow upraised. "There's no one home, and I heard movement."
It was useless to deny. He turned to the sink, pinching the bridge of his nose. Quatre and Trowa's pairing was only to be expected, he knew. The young blond boy had set his sights on the taller pilot of Heavyarms since their first meeting. He had never made a particular secret of it. But with this lean, almost beautiful-featured youth -- Heero was a fierce, proud, lone warrior. Like himself. He had entertained certain hopes...
Not just Heero, of course. Heero was graceful and beautiful, the type to admire from afar. The type who probably wouldn't succumb to the temptation of the flesh, least of all something so base as doseiai.[1] But Duo, ah -- he had seemed entirely within reach, long slender limbs, laughing kissable lips, and the added attraction of unraveling that long braid and spreading softened unbound hair. Duo might have been seduceable, might have been willing to bed with him, fall in love...
Then Duo and Heero had tumbled into bed together, on a regular basis.
Wufei flushed with the pricking memory. He had come back from an afternoon of practicing his forms to fluttering moans and creaking mattress noises that filled the air and, clenching his teeth, had fled back to the clearing in the forest. And he had visualized it anyway, what they might have been doing, in minute and painful detail. It was enough to make a frustrated teenager grit his teeth and weep for lost opportunities. Not only was there the shock of Heero, unexpectedly, turning up okama[2] -- but Duo, as a possible outlet, was now a temptation out of reach.
And Wufei bunked on the damned couch.
He gripped the edge of the sink in his hands and a thin red line tracked over scrubbed metal. Wufei gasped when someone touched his arm. Yuy. Still half-dressed and *way* too close.
"You're hurt," Heero noted in monosyllables, eyes intent.
"It's nothing," Wufei returned, impassive.
That electric, blue stare moved over him and he flushed. "You would say that if the leg were broken in three places, and the arm riddled with gangrene," Heero said, an implacable look settling over his cold perfect features. "You're like me. Come to the bathroom and let me treat it before it gets worse." He tugged.
"Iie," Wufei bit out. "I can treat it myself."
Heero snorted; did not let go. "Don't be stupid."
"Hanase," Wufei glared at him. "Let go, *now.* I can take care of it."
Both brows lifted. "You could. But *I'm* going to." There was steel in the voice to match the hard blue eyes. "Now come along quietly or I'll toss you over my shoulder."
"You wouldn't *dare,*" Wufei sputtered, and stopped short at the look in Heero's eyes. He would, and he'd have no compunctions doing so.
Heero turned with an amused cobalt flash of his eyes. "And spank you for good measure," he added, voice and face completely deadpan. Wufei wasn't sure what was more shocking, the threat or lack of inflection it was delivered with.
He gaped and let Heero tug him down the narrow hall of their hideout to the bathroom.
Sitting on the goosebump-chill rim of the tub in the small bathroom had the unfortunate effect of placing him at the dismaying height of Heero's groin level and he found himself unable to think of anything but naughty flesh-centered thoughts. More specifically, pulling free the drawstring and...
He was a warrior now, it was true, but while he fought for justice on the battlefield, carrying on Nataku's legacy, that did *not* preclude satisfying his own yearnings, off the field. If anything it was a very natural way of releasing tension--
*Iya.* Wufei cut off that line of thought and killed it. Heero was with Duo. And, however ephemerally gratifying such a fantasy might be, dreaming about him would only leave him longing further for something out of reach.
Heero's hands were brisk and efficient like the boy himself, pads of his fingers and palms calloused against his skin as they stripped away the red-dyed bandage. He swabbed down the bullet-graze wound with iodine and Wufei hissed through his teeth.
"It doesn't need stitches," Heero proclaimed carefully. "You'll have a scar no matter what. No sense in making it look worse."
Wufei remained silent, eyes fixed on a corner of the sink. It was stained, discolored by age before their arrival, and he plied shape from its shapelessness. A mask, maybe -- like the half-mask Trowa had worn at the circus, only this one was full and stretched lips wide in Comedy's mocking version of a smile. Heero was steadily packing cotton against the graze wound, then wound gauze around it. Wufei released a mild noise of discomfort and was surprised when Heero's touch gentled. He tied off the bandage and regarded Wufei with unwinking lapis eyes as he tested the arm and nodded.
"Doumo," he grudged.
"Not done yet," Heero lifted a brow. "Now your leg."
Wufei twitched his mouth and shrugged. "It's really nothing," he demurred.
"We'll see," Heero said, expressionless. Then one hand brushed over a dark wing of his hair that had fallen from its tucked position behind his ear. Fingers threaded through the jet silken strands and Wufei jerked in surprise.
"Y-Yuy!?"
"You look less severe," Heero told him, face still devoid of any telling expression, his hand tugging at the handful of hair. "Less the harsh proud warrior. More..."
Wufei's eyes had fallen shut at the soft sensuous tugs to his scalp then they snapped open. "Enough," he rasped, knocking Heero's hand away. "If you must tend the leg, do it now and leave me be."
Heero released his handful of hair and knelt on the bathroom tiles before him, head bent. Wufei swallowed a dry mouthful of nothing. Now it was Yuy's head on a level with him, and he urgently begged the stirrings in his loins not to flare up and embarrass him.
Hands moved over his leg; his knee. Heero made him bend it and poked at the torn white cloth and the bronze skin that showed through. He looked up, expression gone completely blank.
"Take your pants off."
Wufei stared. "N-*nani!?*"
"You heard me," Heero said, sitting back on his heels. "Take your pants off. Unless you'd like me to do it for you?"
Wufei jerked to his feet. His bronze cheeks had flamed over with Heero's casual utterance but he knew from the calm appraisal of those dispassionate eyes that Heero would follow through on his threat. He gave the Japanese boy a hard stare, lips parted but working soundlessly. He twisted his lips shut in the next instant into a scowl, hands going to the ties of his pants.
His cheeks felt scorched. He couldn't breathe. His fingers froze at familiar knots, unable to work them loose and he knew he couldn't do it -- not like this, with the other boy's matter-of-fact gaze burning a line up his body. Not like this, with Heero kneeling on the tiles in front of him. With his hands at the front of his pants he was too humiliatingly aware of what this little scene would look like -- what it would *be* in any other situation. Concurrent with that thought, the throb between his thighs burned to the forefront of his awareness. And now his briefs were a bit too tight.
They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Wufei willed him not to say anything, anything at all and was grateful that Heero did not possess Duo's brash indelicacy. He forced himself to think about the most utterly unarousing thoughts, death and buildings burning and rigging explosives; the worst thoughts that would come to mind.
Come...Wufei stifled a groan, bit his lip, and undid the ties with fingers that shook only a little. Whether he did it himself or Yuy did it for him, the pants would come off one way or another and Heero would see, so he might as well maintain the little dignity he could.
Heero made no comment about the bulge as the white cloth fell around his ankles. Wufei kept his face averted as he sat on the edge of the tub again, cheeks afire, and folded his hands tightly in his lap.
"Black briefs," Heero remarked.
"Shut up."
He hadn't thought his cheeks could get redder. If Heero was noticing his underwear, he'd noted the swell in it. Wufei fixed his eyes on the leaky faucet that even Trowa couldn't fix. He'd known from the start he should've taken care of his own injuries, and that acceding to Heero's rough ministrations would result in squirming discomfort. But if he'd known it would be *this* embarrassing, he would have resisted Heero's attempts more violently.
Heero touched him.
Wufei jerked, panic flaring in his veins, and he spilled off the rim of the tub, toppling backwards onto cold hard ceramic. His head cracked over one of the tiles and he spat out an oath, knees dangling ungainly over the edge of the tub, his backside kissing tub bottom.
"Ite." He pushed himself up and rubbed at his head.
Unwilling, embarrassed beyond belief, his eyes met Heero's. If he didn't know better he'd swear Yuy looked vaguely amused.
"Jumpy, aren't you?"
There was a slight smirk on those thin sensual lips and Wufei glared at it as he pushed himself upright. "Shut up," he muttered, perching again on the uncomfortable rim of the bathtub. "Get out of here, Yuy. I'll take care of it myself."
He bit his lip, looked away, and tried very hard to pretend they both didn't know about the noticeable elongated lump still swelling his black silk briefs.
"Baka," Heero pronounced, one hand reaching out and grasping his knee firmly.
With a cry Wufei nearly tumbled into the tub again but Heero's other hand shot out and seized his wrist, hauling him up short.
"That hurt!" Wufei accused as Heero pulled him back onto the tub's rim.
"Hn," Heero replied. He released Wufei's wrist and settled his attention on the knee, gentle pressure applied to either side of the kneecap driving him nearly wild.
"Y-Yuy...take your hands off me," he commanded unsteadily.
Heero's eyes flicked up at him and then back down. His palms pressed against the skin. "Bend your knee."
Wordless, Wufei bent it and Heero's fingers moved, probing and poking him.
"Does that hurt?"
"*That* doesn't hurt," he muttered, resenting Yuy for all he was worth.
"It's nothing serious," Heero dismissed it, grabbing an Ace bandage and winding it around the joint. He secured it and remained kneeling on the tiles, looking up at Wufei, cobalt eyes inscrutable. "Is *this* what hurts?" One hand slid between his partly-open thighs to cup the heated mound of silk.
Wufei's mouth fell open. His eyes flared wide and he stared, disbelieving, at Heero's suddenly wicked expression as he gently kneaded and squeezed at the coiled tense knot of Wufei's still-clothed -- barely -- erection. "H-hanase..." he gasped out. "Wh-what are you doing!?"
"Isn't this what you wanted?" Heero lifted a brow, lips curving in a wicked smirk as he hitched closer, stoking the fire with his hand.
"Wh-why...?"
He wanted to pull away, to grab his pants and jump up and flee the bathroom, but he was too afraid his leg would give out under him and he would fall on top of Heero. Besides, Heero had a rather intimate grip on his privates that jumping up might disturb rather painfully.
"Do you want to know what I was thinking, the moment I walked through the kitchen door? Saw you with your hair falling around your shoulders, black eyes wide and wounded...?" Heero, damn him, answered a question with a question.
"What?" he spat out, then his breath sobbed through his teeth as Heero's hand *pulled* and then worked inside his briefs, stroking him, tugging his penis out of the underwear and shaping the heat upright.
"You, underneath me." Yuy's wicked smile curved up the corners of his mouth, just barely, and filled his heavy-lidded eyes. "Making the most exquisite noises as I take you."
"O-ohh..." Wufei's soft exhalation turned into a moan as Heero's hand moved in steady merciless beats, giving him no surcease. "But -- Duo...?"
"He knows," Heero returned carelessly, then bent his head and touched his mouth to the hot flared skin of his head.
"Stop--" Wufei gasped out, swept up and drowning in this sea of pleasure, but unable to take it at face value. He had to know. "What do you mean, he knows?"
Cobalt eyes glimmered up at him, as those lips formed a tight seal around his erection and Wufei wanted to moan, to let loose completely and allow Heero to do this wickedly intimate thing and he couldn't think because all the blood was rushing *away* from his head but still something clung desperately. He had to know... Heero's lips popped loose and he *did* moan.
"He knows what I want to do to you," Heero answered, one hand still wrapped around him and moving slow and hard. It was like he knew, in advance, exactly what kind of pressure and how much and when it would drive Wufei completely mindless. "He doesn't mind."
"Oh." Wufei slumped on the rim of the tub, relieved. That was it and now he knew and Heero's mouth closed over him again. "OH!"
It was nothing he'd ever felt before, nothing that he could compare to the touch of his own hands. Damning heaven and ecstatic hell rolled over his skin in ripples as Heero suckled him, one hand caressing at the tight pouch below, the other braced against the tight muscles of his thigh. He threw his head back and gave in to the urge to moan, grasping out for anything, any kind of anchor. One hand tangled deep in the tousled dark hair of Yuy's head, and the other encountered the shower curtain.
Heero released his testicles and both arms wrapped around his hips, driving him deep into the Japanese boy's throat.
"GOD!" That burst of pleasure, hot, intense, was followed by a cool drape of plastic over his face. He opened his eyes. He'd ripped the shower curtain from its moorings.
Heero was laughing at him. "Baka."
Yuy might be amused, but *he* was still trying to master the art of breathing and having himself in Heero's mouth at the same time. Wufei brushed tangled strands of coal-dark hair out of his eyes and looked down at him, shaking, as Heero's hands slid to cup his buttocks and he poised his mouth, teasing, over his throbbing sex.
"What do you want, Wufei?"
Heero's low voice rippled through him, lips almost-but-not-quite touching the tip of his erection.
"I...I want..." Wufei stared at him and shook. He squirmed. "I want to get the hell off this damned bathtub."
Heero blinked. Unexpectedly, he *laughed.*
"Come on," he said, unfolding himself and rising to his feet in one lithe movement. "We could do this *much* more comfortably on the bed."
Wufei started to stand, thought better of it, then sat back on the rim and took his shoes off, and then the pants that had bunched around his ankles. He stood uncertainly and let himself be guided to the bedroom Yuy shared with Maxwell. "But -- what about Duo?" he asked faintly.
"What about him?" Heero returned, shutting the door behind them. The look he turned on Wufei was sultry. "If he doesn't want to sleep curled up next to you or me, he can sleep on the floor."
"Or the couch..." Wufei added, deadpan.
Heero smirked again. "Exactly." Then his look turned assessing and hungry, and Wufei became painfully self-conscious of his state of dishabille. He had pulled his underwear up, an almost automatic adjustment on the way through the hallway but that didn't stop Heero's eyes from moving over him, predatory, searing.
As precisely as he had seated himself on the rim of the tub to be treated, he sat on the edge of the mattress and bit his lip. "Yuy...?"
Heero crossed the room in two swift strides and pounced on him, tumbling them both to the mattress. He yelped and the sound was smothered by a hungry mouth pressing over him, rough and demanding and he was pinned now beneath the other boy, bodies twined on the bed with noisy box-springs that had dismayed him so, before. When it had trumpeted Heero's actions with Duo.
Now as Heero settled atop him and the bed squealed a protest, Wufei was flushed. It was the most absurd thing but somehow that noise, the rocking bedframe coupled with Heero's body atop him, gave substance to the surreality.
He twined his hands around the slender neck, tugging at tufts of hair, eyes slid all the way shut now as he focused on Heero's tongue in his mouth. His kiss was so fierce, almost a nibbling but intense, hot, as if the Japanese pilot could consume him if he did it long enough. His lips worked over Wufei's face. The first kiss had passed so quickly he hadn't had time to analyze it.
Heero's hands were everywhere, tracking over his body into uncharted territory. He arched up against him, his own hands making tentative response and groaned at the weight that had settled between his thighs. He wanted to reach down and cup the tempting buttocks his eyes had followed so many times before, squeeze and pump him closer but then Heero's mouth was latching onto his ear and...
"Ohh...." he shuddered, face screwing up into a grimace that had *nothing* to do with pain.
Warm calloused hands had slid into his shirt and he only noticed now as they caressed ever upwards, brushing against and then toying firmly with his nipples. He was going to explode. He was certain of it. Between Heero's concerted attack on his hardened nipples and the wet mouth plying the sensitive crevice of his ear and the heated weight pressing between his parted legs he couldn't stand it.
"H-Heero..." he voiced a complaint, barely recognizing his own voice in the strangled cry that emerged. Finally he dared it, taking the sweet curves of Heero's rear into his own hands and thrusting.
"Unh...!" Heero responded, uttered directly into his ear then fastening onto his mouth once more, sucking at his lip and thrusting back in liquid rhythm.
Their harsh pants fell sharply into the air as both pilots clutched at each other and the bed rocked to the cadence of their excitement, frenzied, the rickety headboard slapping the wall. Then Heero pulled back, mouth swollen, eyes heavy-lidded as they'd been from the start and Wufei voiced an incoherent protest.
Two fingers were laid against his lips and Wufei snapped at them, sulky and vengeful at having such explosive friction, that pleasure, cut short.
"There's more," Heero promised, "and better."
"Better?" Wufei repeated, the one word husked.
"Aa." The gleam in his eyes was wicked as he backed down the bed on hands and knees and Wufei's breath grew thick in his throat. Slowly, deliberately Hero nuzzled the elongated lump of black silk. Then he reared back onto his knees and looked down at him, breathing hard, slim toned chest rising and falling with each huff. "Take your shirt off."
Wufei peeled it off and lifted his shoulders away from the bed, tossing it over the edge. He experienced a flash of panic, again, as Heero tugged his briefs off and sent them where his blue tank had gone. It was virgin jitters, he knew, but he was lying naked and hard as a rock in front of another being for the first time in his life and apprehension spread through his veins with a copper tinge.
Heero's slow smile crept back into place, that infuriating half-smirk. Well, Wufei considered, under any other circumstances it might be infuriating -- right now it was just plain sexy, and arousing as hell.
"Lovely," he proclaimed in a quiet rasp, and bent to take him in his mouth again.
Wufei quit thinking coherently.
Every nerve in his body was strung tight and singing, lit up, turning him to shiver-shocks of sensation and nothing else. He existed to receive this mind-blowing pleasure.
Vaguely Wufei was aware of hands working under his rear, cupping him, kneading and spreading the cheeks but his primary attention -- if it could be called attention, and not his sole reason for existence -- was encompassed by rough deep suction that never seemed to pause and the stroking, fluttering tongue that was pulling it out of him, making him... Wufei gasped, body tensing....
He opened his eyes, confused and shaken as wet heat was replaced by cool air and then he hissed. Heero had slid a finger inside of him already and it was probing his insides.
"Wait..."
The bed creaked again as Heero's weight vanished from it and Wufei lay limp, unable to move or even *think* of displacing himself. He couldn't even summon up the energy for a proper threat, so awash in this intense sensation of...he smirked...well-being.
Heero had a small tube clutched in one fist when he returned and Wufei wanted to blush, but it felt as if all the blushes had been wrung from his skin, this evening. He uncapped it and coated his fingers and reached between Wufei's thighs once more.
It hurt at first, a little, but slowly his grimace eased as Heero worked him steadily and patiently, one hand still wrapped around his shaft and pumping but not fast enough to gratify him.
At last Heero spread three fingers inside him and stroked his stomach, the pads of his fingers making the sensitized skin jump. He cocked his head. "All right?"
"Do it," Wufei bit out, face drawn tight with pleasure/pain unconsummated. "Damn it, Heero..."
The slick fingers vacated him and Heero's hands went to the drawstring of his pants. With a major effort of will Wufei sat up.
"Let me..." he breathed, tugging at the string that bunched the waistline over Yuy's rippled stomach. Heero gave him a tiny smile and let him do it, and the pants pooled into his lap. No underwear.
Wufei's eyes widened in almost comical dismay. "Good Lord, Yuy!! How the HELL can Maxwell fit that thing up his ass!?"
Heero blinked and his mouth pursed. Obviously it wasn't the response he had been expecting. "Slowly," he finally returned, after his mouth worked without sound for a few tries. "Very carefully. And he complained a lot."
Wufei scooted back on the bed, some of the panic seeping back. "I'm sure I'll be complaining, too!"
"Wufei..." Heero reached one hand out to touch his knee, the unbandaged one. "I promise I'll be careful. ...If you don't want to, we'll stop."
"..." Wufei regarded him, wary. Even despite words of reassurance Heero's erection was standing hard and red and larger than his most masochistic fantasies had approximated. But then, the only rulestick he'd had before now was his own.
Heero sighed and looked away. In the light that filtered through the room from the single bedside lamp, the lines of his face were blurred and softer, as if his sharp precise beauty was ever so slightly out of focus. "Relax, Wufei, I'm not going to force the issue...lay back and I'll finish--"
"Iya," Wufei returned, his voice closing tight on a painful croak. "Do it. I... it's what I wanted."
Cobalt eyes flashed over him again, alert to the slightest sign of reluctance. But hungry. Eager. "You're sure...?"
Wufei stretched back onto the bed, nestling his head back onto the pillows strewn at the headboard. "Aa. Heero -- it's what you wanted too, isn't it?" He drew his legs up deliberately, parting them. "Take me."
Heero surged forward, nearly falling on top of him. Wufei gasped but he only bent forward to take his mouth in a kiss that was bruising and aching in a peculiar tender fashion, all at once. Then the Japanese boy pulled back and reached for the tube again, using it to coat the hard readiness of erection that had made him so uneasy. "It... it *is* going to hurt," Heero warned him, his voice as close to an apology as Heero Yuy could get.
"I know that," Wufei returned. He closed his eyes, biting at the lower lip.
Hands brushed over his hips then settled there and the hard bulbous tip was pressing against him, settled between his cheeks as Heero began to push. He couldn't control the keening cry that welled up inside, bursting its ragged way free as the head of his penis drove against the tight clench. He tried to relax. He was too tense and he knew it but the body resisted invasion and Heero was trying to invade him so intimately and he was gasping, they both were as it bit deeper.
Great, tearing gasps of air were all he could draw in and he cried out again as a sudden slick trespasser slid deep within. Once the tip had popped past its resistance Heero's entire length had followed. Wufei groaned.
His legs were crowded up against his chest, thrown over Heero's shoulders but he didn't care. Heero's hands were grasping at his, fingers threading with his own, and the entire throbbing length was buried flush against something that screamed pleasure to kindle all his nerves again, even better -- worse? -- better than before.
Wufei moaned, fevered, and tossed his head back against the pillows as Heero began to move on top of him, inside of him. It hurt dreadfully but the pain was so wonderful when that something pressed so deep he couldn't bear it. He screamed, moaned, wept at the exquisite agony.
Heero's breath paced fast alongside his own. He thrust his hips up with wanton abandon to meet his impalement, feeling his own erection bobbing back and forth against Heero's washboard stomach. It was maddening. It was heaven and hell and every sweaty detail of his most painstakingly-wrought fantasy rolled into one package and sealed with the hard length moving inside of him.
Their hands gripped strong enough to crack bones, any normal person's bones if their tolerances hadn't been so high already. Heero's throat produced a noise somewhere between a purr and a growl and if he hadn't already been in the throes it would have enflamed him even more but as it was Wufei was gritting his teeth, rocking into the even liquid thrusts, only wanting it to last longer...
Wufei's pealing outcry announced his triumph and the wet heat that splurted against already-damped skin. Heero shuddered on top of him, his hands wrestling Wufei's above his head to pin them at the headboard and he buried his nose against salty skin, the regular spasming twist of his hips between Wufei's thighs marking his climax.
It was all they could do to breathe. Wufei lay underneath Heero's weight and regarded the ceiling with eyes half-veiled from satisfaction. It was too early yet to resume coherent thought. So he submitted to the lazy sensuous feeling of Heero's hands tracking patterns over his skin.
He didn't want to move. He was afraid he might not be able to sit down for a week. Kuso -- how could he pilot a GUNDAM like this!? How did *Maxwell* pilot his Gundam like this!?
The *slam* of the door, in the distance, made both their heads rouse. In a dreamlike state of panic, Wufei realized that Heero was still partly inside him and they hadn't even pulled the sheet up to hide their state of undress -- hadn't even locked the door...
Heavy boots tread a path on the floorboards, up the hallway, and Wufei was trying to push Heero off him when Duo Maxwell popped through the door with a cheerful "Konbon wa!" The American pilot dropped his bag on a chair with a sigh, stretched, then turned around in a swift about-face and goggled. His wide violet eyes were full of disbelief.
Wufei was shrinking back against the pillows, tugging ineffectually at the sheet. It was still trapped below Heero's unmoving body.
"H-Heero..." Duo gaped, his voice shocked and hurt.
Wufei quavered. Had Heero *lied* to him!? "Duo... gomen... I..."
"Heero, you bastard!" Duo folded his arms and stamped one boot on the floor, eyes hard. "You promised you wouldn't tumble him *without* me!"
Wufei blinked. He sagged against the pillows. "...Duo...?"
Duo gave him a wide, mischievous grin and bounced over to the bed, draping himself across naked Heero's lap and resting one hand on Wufei's bare thigh. "Did you enjoy my Heero?" he purred. "Is there anything left for me?"
"You should offer him sufficient motivation, Duo," Heero raised one brow.
"Oh, I planned on it," Duo's lips curved in a wicked smile as his hand wandered higher. "How 'bout it, Wufei?"
"Give me at least twenty minutes," he rallied enough to reply.
Two pairs of glittering eyes, one amaryllis, one cobalt, fastened on him, both equally hungry. He raised his hands. "Oh, no. No, no..."
They pounced.
Wufei swore, put up a good fight... and eventually surrendered to the inevitable.
The End
On to 'The Better Part Of Valor'
(:./talya/surrender)
