January 30, 2001
::Cackles:: Maybe I'll get flamed for this! For all who don't know, I've got this little preoccupation with getting flamed. I've never been flamed. Do your worst, flamers! ::Cackles::
Night had fallen an hour ago, leaving the air cooler and sweeter, with the shimmering of pale moonlight through the window. Heero watched the dust motes drifting through the beam of light. It looked almost like a tangible thing, solid enough to walk on. Duo called them "Jacob's Ladders." He followed the light's path to where Trowa sat calmly repairing the bits of wiring in the communicator in his hands.
One long, slender leg was curled beneath the other, which stretched out in front of the young man. He brushed his bang out of the way occasionally, more of an absent-minded gesture, his emerald eyes darting from the wires he held to the communicator itself, then back again. It wasn't that difficult; something he'd done a thousand times before. The night soothed the Heavyarms pilot, letting him relax a little more than usual. The moon was full and Trowa had opted to leave the light off, using the brightness the moon let off guide him in his work.
Heero watched him with unguarded tenderness. It was silent in the house, and they were alone. For once he didn't feel any particular need to hide behind his usual mask of indifference. He sat at the laptop, but it was powered down for the moment. Instead, he took the time to study Trowa. The boy was beautiful, to say the least. There was never enough time in a day to admire him.
"Have you finished?" The question wasn't meant as an intrusion, nor was it meant to rush him. Simple curiosity. In the dim light it was hard for Heero to see how far the other pilot had gotten with the machine.
A soft sigh, barely audible. "Almost." A few more adjustments and Trowa set the communicator down, leaning his head to either side and cracking it before stretching, popping his back. That done, he looked at the moon, framed perfectly by the window. It was a beautiful night, and Trowa stretched out on the floor to better see the sky. He didn't mind Heero's presence; the boy was a quiet comfort to him, never judging, never assuming. A soft hint of a smile crossed the angular features as Trowa looked up at the moon and stars and sky, and he idly brushed his bang back from his face so it wouldn't block his view. He ended up having to hold it to one side.
Heero abandoned his chair to settle down on the floor beside Trowa. He lowered one hand to the other's forehead, brushing the long hair out of the way a moment, despite Trowa's own hand being there, to get a better look at those green eyes. It was an invasive gesture, but Heero had been trying for some time to find a way to communicate his admiration of the other boy. Words failed him, constantly. Actions were better; they were more genuine. He simply looked down at the other for a moment from where he sat then pulled his hand away, turning his own gaze back to the moonlight.
Trowa went still as Heero touched him. He didn't freeze --- an abrupt ceasing of all motion. He simply, slowly stopped moving, eyes still resting on the sky above. The corners of his mouth twitched upward a bit more when Heero took his hand away. What had that been for? Trowa’s mind refused to answer the question, refused to let him dwell on any one thing for more than a few seconds. He'd heard somewhere that the full moon did that to people, lessened their inhibitions, and maybe that was true. Trowa didn't know. All he was aware of was the quiet rustling of the wind, the even quieter, but nearer sounds of Heero breathing, and the relaxed comfort he felt, knowing he was with a companion and safe for the moment. Trowa tilted his head back and arched his back in a feline stretch, raising his back up off the floor as he did so.
Heero admired that supple grace and allowed himself a smile. It never ceased to impress him how limber Trowa really was. What made it all the more interesting was that it was completely unconscious. Trowa could be this graceful drugged, asleep, or seriously injured. Had been, actually. Heero'd seen it. He gave in to temptation once again, letting his fingertips brush against the other's jaw very softly. They moved down to Trowa's throat, pausing over the steady pulse there. Heero's eyes lidded.
Trowa stilled again, then slowly lowered himself back to the ground as he closed his eyes to hide the sudden nervousness there. His pulse quickened in a mixture of fear and . . . something else. The boy swallowed slightly, tongue sliding out from between his lips to wet them, then he pulled his lower lip into his mouth and bit it gently. There were a thousand reasons he could come up with for Heero doing what he was doing now, most of them reasons Trowa avoided because of their painful content. His eyes moved rapidly under his eyelids, wondering what the Japanese pilot would do next. He cursed the moon for making him drowsy and lethargic, for not letting him be as alert as he should be. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter . . .
Beneath his fingertips, Heero could feel Trowa's pulse speed up. It was his doing, of course; the slight pressure put Trowa on the edge. He wished for the millionth time that he could put his fellow pilot at ease. He removed his fingers from Trowa's neck, still gazing down at him thoughtfully. "Trowa?"
Trowa's breaths were coming soft and shallow, a little quicker than normal as he tried to think through the fog in his brain. What was it about the setting that was making him feel like he was in a dream? Lying flat on the bare floor, right in the patch of light from the full moon, Heero leaning over him, fingers touching him so lightly . . . Trowa's head fell to the side, not registering Heero's voice except as a low thrumming in his ears as he blinked emerald orbs out the window, body relaxing despite his attempts to stay in control.
Heero thought about calling to him again but was very reluctant to break the tranquil spell Heavyarms' pilot had them both in. There was something surreal about this night; something strange, mystical, fey. Any other night and Heero would have been his composed self. Something about the way Trowa looked in moonlight . . . He captured Trowa's hand in his own and brought it to his mouth, brushing his lips against the back of the other pilot's knuckles.
"Huhhhhh . . ." The breath was more felt than heard as Trowa's head rolled to the other side, looking up at Heero through half-closed eyes, plush lips parted as the pilot panted softly. His small, pink tongue flicked out to wet his lips again, moving slowly over the bottom one as he squinted up at Heero, taking a few moments to realize what the Japanese pilot was doing. "H, Heeroooo . . ." His tongue felt thick, weighed down. What was he going to say? Trowa couldn't remember. Nothing existed but for the here-and-now, and nothing but now mattered. Now . . . what Heero was doing now. Trowa's head arched back as he tried to raise himself up into a sitting position, but it didn't work. He tried again, back arching and face nearly a grimace, but it wasn't from pain, just confusion.
Heero released his hand and put both his hands on Trowa's shoulders, not holding him down, but suggesting he stay there. There was a gentleness in his blue eyes that was rarely seen, a tenderness that gave lie to everything the Perfect Soldier was supposed to be. And it was directed at Trowa. Without a word he lowered his head to kiss the other pilot upside-down. His upper lip brushed against Trowa's bottom one, tongue flicking out to tease those lips before releasing him again. His face was impassive but his eyes spoke volumes.
Trowa squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slowly, slow being the only speed of movement he could manage. Heero's lips touched his and his eyes widened impossibly, his hands moving up to touch where Heero had as he searched Heero's face for some explanation, some meaning for what had just happened.
'Why?' his mind cried out, but Trowa was mute, unable to voice his questions. No one had ever looked at him like Heero was looking at him, a look that made Trowa's toes curl and sent shivers up and down his back. He opened his mouth, moving it silently as Heero drew back, head tilting up to try to reclaim the lost touch as his fingers touched his lips, dragging softly along them and moving down his throat as a slight fire started to warm his body from head to toe.
It was so easy to be in love with Trowa. He was strong and passionate, strangely delicate, heart-torn, and still he kept going. Heero smiled down at him tenderly, running one hand through the other's hair. So damn unfair, this beauty being here, and Heero's inability to communicate preventing him from telling him everything he deserved to hear. He saw the way Trowa's body shivered and became concerned. "Are you cold?"
Trowa licked his lips over and over again as he tried to speak, but only managed a quick, jerky shake of his head even as he trembled again. He wasn't cold, he was . . . what? What was he? Trowa squeezed his eyes shut and curled into a loose ball on his side, facing Heero as he did so. He immediately unstretched, still on his side, and stared up at Heero, totally lost as to what was happening to him and why. He raised one hand to Heero's face, lightly, hesitantly tracing the smile in wonder. Why did Heero smile at him? Trowa hardly thought himself worth it, and the question plagued him.
Heero kissed those fingertips gently, trying to formulate something to say that wouldn't be stupid or painful. He knew somehow that anything he said might possibly be taken the wrong way. He didn't want to leave any doubts in Trowa's mind about what he was feeling. He caught that hand again, nipping lightly at the fingertips. "You're beautiful," he managed. It was honest, and there was very little chance of misinterpretation.
Trowa's heart thumped at the feeling of Heero's teeth grazing the tips of his fingers and his breath caught in his throat. He whimpered softly, face twisting into a pleading grimace as he pushed gently at Heero's lips with his fingers, emotions long suppressed for one reason or another now rising to the surface, and he sigh/whimpered again, head turning from side to side in denial of Heero's statement. It wasn't true; it couldn't be true. He wasn't beautiful. Beautiful people were kind, and open; like Quatre and Duo. Not him. Not Trowa. Beautiful people weren't hurt by the ones who should have loved them, weren't used and abused and left alone to cry at night until there were no tears left and they were nothing but an empty shell. Trowa wasn't beautiful. He couldn’t be. Could he?
Heero could see the conflict in Trowa's eyes, and the denial. Damn it, he hadn't thought something like that could hurt him. "Trowa, I don't lie. Not about things like that," he murmured, keeping the other pilot's hand tightly in his own. "I won't hurt you. I swear it, I will never hurt you."
The words reverberated through Trowa's head, chasing each other in circles and getting all jumbled up, so mixed around that Trowa wanted to cry. He squeezed his eyes shut again and kept them that way, hand feebly tugging at Heero's collar. He had never been one for physical comfort, but now his arms were aching to have Heero in them; his whole body was aching to be held, touched by this quiet Japanese boy. Trowa thought he might die from the need coursing through him, and he didn't want to die just yet. A faint sob wracked his body though his eyes stayed dry, and Trowa so wanted Heero to be telling him the truth, so wanted to believe him that it was making his carefully guarded heart throb in pain.
Wing's pilot could feel the insistence in the other's motions, the need there to be held. He scooted around and slid his arms around the other's back, lifting him into a clumsy embrace, clinging to him very tightly. It felt so right to have him in his arms like this. Trowa scarcely weighed what he should for his build; that lightness made him easier to hold. They fit together very well. Comfortable. Trowa's scent was light and musky, something very intoxicating. Heero never wanted to let go.
Slender arms slid around Heero's neck, angular face pressed into the crook of his neck as Trowa half panted, half sobbed into the embrace, mind whirling and staying perfectly still all at once. He was hot, he was cold; burning, freezing. Pleasure/pain ripped through him, hunching his shoulders and making him whimper as the taller pilot clung to Heero as if the Wing pilot was the only stable thing in his universe. And maybe he was.
Trowa's instability fed back to Heero as he held the other in his arms. Instinct surfaced, the instinct to protect and care for this one. The room itself was secure, he knew, having been the one to secure it. That left taking care of Trowa directly. The boy was sobbing quietly, at war with his own emotions. Heero stood up, lifting Trowa with him, and pressed one tender kiss to his temple before leading him toward Heero's bed. The boy needed rest and Heero could protect him easier there.
Trowa's legs could barely support him as he cried dry tears, head jerking a bit when Heero kissed him. His eyes were wide and unseeing as he was moved, then he slowly collapsed backward onto the bed, arms still locked around Heero's neck as he fell. He didn't care if the heavier boy smothered him, he just didn't want to be alone anymore, didn't want that icy cold emptiness to eat at him tonight, driving him insane with pain and loneliness. He didn't care what happened anymore; he didn't care if Heero used him, fucked him and left him the next morning. As long as Trowa wasn't alone tonight, Heero could do anything he wanted.
What Heero most wanted was to protect Trowa. He gripped Trowa's wrists, pulling the slender arms from his neck so that he could adjust them on his bed. Trowa was pushed up against the wall where Heero wanted him. He situated himself on the outside, between Trowa and anything that could harm him, then he tucked the thick blankets around him. "I'll keep you safe," he murmured, kissing the other boy very gently.
"Nnnnn . . ." Trowa's whine was soft and insistent as his head pushed forward, lips opening under Heero's as he silently begged the other boy, begged with all his might. He didn't know *what* he wanted, but he needed it, and Trowa knew Heero could provide him with whatever 'it' was. He shuddered and whimpered, body pressing against Heero's as his hands grasped the blankets, eyes wide and frightened as he stared up at the Japanese boy. 'Please,' he begged silently, 'please help. Save me, if only from myself. Don't leave me, please don't leave me, I'll do anything you want, just *don't* leave me, anything at all, name it and I'll do it just stay please stay oh please don't go don't leave . . .' He was almost hyperventilating, desperate for comfort and acceptance and, dare he hope, love.
Heero looked into those eyes and felt the rapid breathing. The boy was in a state of panic; God only knew what brought that on. He seized the other pilot in a tight embrace and held him close. "I'm here," he whispered, hoping to comfort. "I won't leave you. I won't let anything hurt you, ever. I'm here, Trowa, I promise. On my honor, I promise . . ." His voice was very low and soothing. He stroked the other's hair and covered his face in gentle kisses.
A few minutes later and Trowa was finally relaxing, though his pulse hadn't slackened. He wrapped his arms around Heero's waist and tangled their legs together, bodies pressed in a tight line as he leaned into the kisses and was almost purring at the contact, body aflame at every spot it touched Heero's, more so where skin met skin. He tilted his head down and nuzzled the young man's neck, soft mewls coming from his throat as his lips dragged over the soft skin, Heero's scent surrounding and intoxicating him. All Trowa wanted was to stay here with Heero like this; this comfort was nice, was what Trowa wanted, needed. Tomorrow the soldier masks would be back in place, and they would leave tonight behind. But tonight, tonight Trowa wanted to cherish forever.
Heero frowned, though it wasn't directed at Trowa. He was comfortable, happy even, but something was still amiss, something lacking. He needed . . . but he wasn't sure what he needed. Trowa was here, in his arms, and that itself was the answer to every wish Heero had cast. But he needed more. "Trowa?"
"Nn?" Trowa looked up, fear entering his eyes, fear of rejection. 'No please don't go don't leave I'll be good very very good don't go---' He was so afraid he'd be left, so very afraid of being alone. The Latin boy stopped all motion but for his eyes, which darted about Heero's face. What did Heero want? He'd said he wouldn't hurt Trowa, and it would hurt him if the Japanese young man left. '---please don't go stay I'll be perfect I'm good really I am alone is bad alone is very very bad don't leave me alone I'll be good . . .'
The fear in those green eyes sent trills of it through Heero's spine. He kissed the boy again, trying not to hurt him. "Stay here tonight?" he finally asked, exasperated with himself for his lack of ability to communicate. "Stay here every night? With me? Forever?"
Trowa's heart skipped a couple beats, hardly comprehending what Heero had just asked of him as his lips tilted up again, again not quite fast to catch and keep Heero's. 'Please don't go I need you I want you stay with me not alone---' He nodded swiftly, eyes pleading with Heero to be telling the truth, not another lie. '---yes stay that's good I need you forever for me mine mine yours I'm yours' "I'll stay stay with me don't leave don’t" 'leave stay I need you I want you you're sanity you're hope I' "need you stay don't leave I" 'want you please' "don't go . . ." His whispers were fast and soft, barely audible as Trowa clung to Heero, speaking and thinking, thinking and speaking, one after another, during each other, but he didn't care as long as Heero stayed with him.
Heero was frightened, but couldn't help smiling. He touched his fingers to Trowa's mouth, silencing him. "I won't go," he said, slowly and clearly. "Ever. And you will stay here with me from now on. I'll take care of you. And I won't ever hurt you." 'I love you.' He took the other's mouth, tasting the sweetness that was Trowa's essence. For someone who hid behind a mask of death, Trowa could be damned alive, even passionate. Heero was learning to appreciate that.
"Ohhhh . . ." Trowa eagerly parted his lips for Heero, breath hitching as he held the other closer to him, wanting to be as close as he could get. He nodded understanding of Heero's words before molding his body to the Japanese pilot's, a faint, bittersweet smile on his lips even as they moved under Heero's, very small, very soft whimpers still coming from deep in his throat.
Heero released his love's mouth and gazed down at him, naked adoration in his eyes. "Tell me what you want," he panted softly. "I'll do it. Anything. Just ask." He touched his hand to the side of Trowa's neck, feeling the pulse there.
Trowa covered Heero's hand with his own, grasping it tightly. What he wanted? What *did* he want? He licked dry lips and pondered that thought. He wanted . . . he wanted to know what it was to be loved, not used. He pressed his hand against Heero's chest and leaned his head forward, so his forehead was resting against Heero's chin. "Love me," he pleaded softly. "Please. Love me." 'Please . . . no pain, just love. Does it happen like that? Is there ever *not* any pain? There must be; otherwise, why would people . . . why would they? There *must* be more than just pain, there *has* to be . . .'
The youth cupped Trowa's face in his hands and kissed him, very tenderly. "I will. I do." He moved slowly, thoroughly kissing Trowa's face, lips and neck. "I do," he whispered, repeating it like a mantra. "I do, I always will, I do, I will." He tugged at the hem of Trowa's shirt and helped the boy slide from it.
An angelic smile crossed Trowa's lips as he submitted wholly and completely to Heero, lips searching and making contact with Heero's skin whenever the other boy got close enough. He wiggled around until his shirt was off, then shyly covered his chest, cheeks on fire. What would Heero think of his scars? True, there weren't that many and they were all small, but still . . . Trowa was suddenly self-conscious again, shoulders hunching over.
Heero's keen eyesight didn't miss the small marks covering his love's body. His eyes narrowed as he pulled Trowa against his chest, hugging him tightly. "That won't happen again," he vowed, knowing full well he'd kill, gladly, before letting anyone hurt his love again. His fingers stroked down the other boy's spine, enjoying the sensation. There wasn't any part of Trowa that wasn't perfect. Heero was beyond pleased.
Trowa was raising his head to meet Heero's gaze when the boy's fingers ran down his spine. He gasped at the sheer sensation of it, arching his back, eyes large and mouth open wide as he shuddered. This wasn't like the mercenaries, not by far. That had been all-take-no-give, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, 'til next time kid; *nothing* like Heero's soft touches. Trowa whimpered again, head moving forward once more. He bit his lower lip and scooted closer to Heero, closer to the warmth he both desired and needed. He believed the Japanese soldier when he'd been told that it wouldn't happen again. Trowa felt he should repay some of the kindness Heero was showing him, but the hollow at the base of his friend's throat was distracting him too much. Without any thought, Trowa leaned forward and kissed it, tongue snaking out to taste the sweet flesh before he jerked back with another blush, hiding his face in his hands.
For a moment, Heero was in heaven. Then, abruptly, it stopped and Trowa was hiding behind his hands. Heero regarded the other pilot with some curiosity and concern. "I won't stop you. You can do that, you know." He wasn't sure, really, *what* Trowa was thinking, and it bothered him. He was afraid of inadvertently hurting his lover somehow. "Trowa?"
Trowa spread his fingers apart a little and peeked up at Heero through them, then hesitantly lowered his hands. He held them in fists against his throat as he leaned his head forward again, again kissing that little hollow that he found so fascinating. Heero's skin was just as sweet the second time he tasted it, sending electric shocks through Trowa's body that skipped his heart and sped his pulse up, moving him instinctively closer to Heero as heat started growing between his legs.
Heero felt the bruise start where Trowa's mouth was marking him. He slid his hands around Trowa's back and head, encouraging him in his actions. 'Mark me, you own me, I give myself to you.' He stroked fine lines down the other boy's back, tracing the small scars there.
It wasn't much longer before Trowa pulled away, moving his mouth along Heero's collarbone, back arching at Heero's touch. He kissed Heero's shoulder, then up to his neck, where he added another hickey. Trowa's own hands moved along Heero's back, holding the other boy tight against him. He moved from Heero's neck to his face, pressing his lips to Heero's and begging to be kissed. The warmth between his legs was growing and he shifted against the other boy, breath coming out in small pants.
Heero's own body was responding to the treatment Trowa was giving him. He kissed the boy deeply, pushing him onto his back as he did so. His tongue ran under the other's, teasingly suggesting other things they could be doing, then brushed against the back of his pallet. He slid his body between Trowa's legs, thrusting his denim-clad hardness into his love's heat.
"Nnnahh!" Trowa’s hips bucked up against Heero's, long legs drawing up to wrap around Heero's waist as his tongue battled Heero's for all he was worth. His hands found their way under Heero's shirt, running over the warm back as his hips continued their wanton upward thrusting.
Heero gasped, thrusting down again harder, though a part of his mind kept him from going overboard. He didn't want to hurt Trowa, not even by accident. His mouth coaxed Trowa's tongue inside where he sucked on it in a lewd imitation of more intimate embraces. When he let the boy go finally, he lowered his mouth to the other's ear, hissing, "I want you."
As Heero let his mouth go, Trowa's head fell to the side. Heero wanted him. Heero wanted him. Trowa knew full well what that statement meant, and usually he'd retreat back into his shell and cut off all emotions, letting the person do whatever they pleased, but not this time. Trowa was on fire and he wanted Heero, wanted the boy inside of him. This time would be different, he told himself, this time *he'd* get something out of it, too.
"Please . . ." Trowa's legs fell open willingly as he whispered that one word, hands moving down to Heero's rump and pulling the boy up against him again. "Take me . . ."
"Impatient," Heero teased, grinning as he covered Trowa's face with kisses. He slid his hands down to Trowa's waist, then slowly down the jean-clad legs, teasing him as he reached down and removed his lover's socks. Then, back up his legs, running fingers along the insides of his thighs, brushing over the boy's heat, and up to his fly, deftly unzipping and unbuttoning it. There was a moment of difficulty in getting the pants off his hips around his erection, but after a moment the jeans joined his socks on the floor.
Trowa didn't respond to Heero's teasing, merely flushed and whimpered at the light touch, body twisting as he tried to guide Heero's hands to the area most in need of their attention. He whimpered again when Heero touched him, then lifted his hips to aid the removal of his pants. After that Trowa scooted up a bit, leaning back on his elbows as he blushed and looked at Heero from beneath his eyelashes and bang. He was suddenly overcome with nervousness, wondering if he would be good enough for Heero, if Heero would back off and say that this was all a mistake, leaving him alone once again.
Heero rid himself of his own clothes. Well, at least he tried to. He forgot he was still wearing his shoes when he tried to slide out of his pants and wound up getting them briefly stuck. Arousal having shot his coordination to hell, he finally stopped trying to unknot the stupid things and snapped the laces with his fingers, then hurled his shoes, socks, and pants across the room, missing his laptop by inches. He glanced at Trowa sheepishly.
Trowa covered a sudden smile with the back of his hand, fighting back a chuckle. The chuckle won, then he reached out and wrapped his arms around Heero's neck, pulling the boy on top of him and gasping as their erections touched, once more consumed by desire.
Heero hissed as they thrust together again, watching the emotions playing across Trowa's face. He licked the other's earlobe, then moved down his throat. At the junction of the boy's neck and collar he bit down, then sucked, leaving a mark to rival the ones on his own throat. Satisfied, he slid down Trowa's body, kissing his way to his lover's nipples, then biting down lightly.
"Heero!" Trowa's mind was on the fritz; all he could think about was Heero thrusting against him, thrusting *inside* of him, and he whined low in his throat. He didn't care about any sort of foreplay, he needed Heero *now*. He cried out again, back arching unbelievably high as Heero nipped at his nipples, hands entangling in his lover's hair and holding the other boy's head there.
Heero could feel Trowa's impatience and frenzy, and sat up, trying to think. "Trowa," he started, but his voice broke. He tried again, "Trowa, I don't want to hurt you. I promised . . ." Though part of him wanted nothing more than to be inside the green-eyed boy, loving him.
Trowa paused. He hadn't thought of *that*. Everyone else had just taken him. "Uhm . . ." He bit his lip and looked at Heero in despair. "I don't have . . ." Have what? Something to ease the pain. Trowa looked to the side, ashamed for some reason. A soldier should always be prepared. He hadn't been prepared for *this*.
Heero looked around the room frantically. Nothing on hand, and he was *not* leaving Trowa, even for a second, not when the boy had been acting so afraid that he would leave. He thought for a moment, one hand running down Trowa's body absently. Then he thought of it and looked down with a wicked grin. His body rubbed against Trowa's shaft as he slid downward, kissing all the while, then Heero paused and started licking up the sides of Trowa’s arousal.
Trowa looked at Heero, a bit confused by the grin, then gasped when Heero moved against him and almost screamed when the boy started licking him. His hips thrust up wildly as his hands grabbed Heero's head to keep the boy where he was, tears of pleasure streaming from his eyes.
His mouth moved hotly over the other's cock, licking and sucking, then taking him deeper into his mouth. He moved back again, tongue worming at the slit. One hand slid lower, massaging his sack, while the other went lower still, teasing at his entrance lightly, flicking in and out, but only the fingertips.
Trowa gasped and panted, then whimpered when he felt Heero's fingers probing at him. He tossed his head from side to side and raised his hips up, trusting Heero not to hurt him. He needed Heero's warmth, thrusting himself in and out of the hot mouth enveloping him, driving him mad with desire and relief nowhere in sight. Trowa whined again, hands moving from Heero's head to grasp at the sheets and back again as he writhed under the other boy.
Heero's mouth milked him eagerly, teasing and taunting, trying very hard to push him over the edge. Heero had plans . . . Abruptly he slid one finger deeper inside, as slowly and carefully as possible. He suckled slower, somewhat distracted by trying to concentrate and find that one spot Duo had told him about . . . inside . . . 'What did he say it was?' His fingertip brushed against the soft, fleshy knot in question.
Trowa arched up into Heero's mouth and shifted a little uncomfortably at the finger that was now inside of him, raising his head to try to form a question. "Wha --- AAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!" The shriek echoed throughout the empty safehouse as Trowa started thrashing around, thrusting back onto Heero's finger wildly. It proved to be too much and Trowa orgasmed abruptly, another cry forcing its way from between his lips as his whole body arched off the bed, only his heels and the back of his head touching the bed as tears streamed down his cheeks yet again.
Heero nearly choked but managed not to swallow. He withdrew his finger and spat Trowa's seed into his hand, licking clean the last drops that spilled down his shaft. He started working the stuff into Trowa's entrance, probing deeper. All the while he had Trowa's mouth captured, kissing him passionately. He let the green-eyed pilot taste his own seed on Heero's tongue and stroked the stuff against the roof of Trowa's mouth, finding the action rather wanton and erotic. He added a second finger to the boy's body, stretching him open.
Trowa whined, soft and quick and deep in his throat as Heero kissed him, tasting himself in the kiss. He returned the action eagerly, tongue struggling against Heero's as he spread his legs as wide as they would go, relaxing as much as possible. Heero must think him a slut for wanting this so much, but Trowa was beyond caring as his eyelids drooped, movements slowing down as the aftermath of his first orgasm made him a little drowsy. But Heero was still hard, and Trowa felt he should do something about *that*. He lifted a trembling hand and gently touched Heero's erection, lightly running his fingers up and down the hard shaft, purring low in his throat.
Heero gasped, startled by Trowa's actions, and nearly fell off the bed. He was hard and on the edge himself, but he didn't want to rush Trowa. His free hand curled around Trowa's fingers, showing him what to do, encouraging him. Teasing the head, or stroking just so. He inserted three fingers on the other hand, spreading them carefully as they stroked in and out, rubbing lightly.
"Mmmm . . ." Trowa closed his eyes and smiled slightly, following Heero's example and using both hands. He opened his eyes and looked up at Heero, wanting everything to be better for him, not wanting it to hurt. He shifted on Heero's fingers again, pulse speeding back up as Heero hit that place over and over, dragging Trowa quite willingly into arousal once more. He moved one hand around Heero's back, pulling the boy onto him. "Heero, please . . . Take me . . ."
Heero nodded silently, pressing his fingers into that sweet spot one last time before withdrawing them. On a whim he grasped Trowa's hand and curled it around the green-eyed pilot's shaft, encouraging him to play with himself as Heero carefully pressed the head of his erection into his lover's body.
Trowa gasped softly when Heero moved his hand, the feeling of its warmth around his erection making his heart skip a beat or two. He bit his lip softly and looked up at Heero, then mentally shrugged and experimentally did what he had been doing to Heero. He gasped again at the feelings it created, and that made him bolder. His eyes closed, body opening willingly for Heero as his hand moved up and down on his shaft. He rubbed his thumb over the tip, moaning softly, and drew his legs up over his head so Heero would have better access to him.
Heero moved into him carefully. The boy was still very tight, making him want to thrust hard and fast, but he held himself back, going slowly, filling the boy then withdrawing, only to plunge in again. He watched Trowa's hand slide up his own cock and felt his own hardness twitch inside the other boy's body. God, that was erotic . . . He pushed in a little deeper, the head of his cock finding that place inside Trowa again.
"Uunhhhh . . ." Trowa's hand moved faster and he gasped again when Heero hit *that* spot inside of him, body drenched in sweat as his legs moved once more to rest around Heero's hips, urging his lover faster, deeper, never wanting him to let go, not ever.
Heero obliged him, sweat streaking his own body. He shoved damp hair out of his face and looked into Trowa's eyes intensely, then covered the boy's face and neck with kisses, pounding into him hard. Against Trowa's skin he mouthed, 'Mine. Love you. Mine.’
Trowa grunted softly with each thrust. God, this was perfect. Not so rough that he was hurting, but not so gentle that he thought Heero would evaporate into thin air. Trowa liked this, this safe and secure roughness, and mewled softly into Heero's ear, lips touching skin wherever he could, nodding consent to whatever Heero was mouthing against him. He was Heero's, to do with as the boy pleased. Trowa would follow Heero anywhere.
Heero felt himself balance on a razor edge. He would fall, very soon, and take Trowa with him. He pinched Trowa's nipples, then moved a hand lower, entwining his fingers with Trowa's on the green-eyed boy's cock. He stroked their hands up and down in time to his thrusts, aiming deeper and more directly at that one spot, trying to send Trowa over before himself.
"Nnyah!!!!" Trowa's back arched again as he orgasmed for the second time that night, body clamping down hard on Heero's erection as it moved inside of him. His body felt like it was falling, suspended in nothing, weightless and weighing a thousand tons. His lips found Heero's and locked onto them, desperate for some sort of balance as his world rocked wildly.
Heero felt him go over, and followed. He gasped and choked, kissing Trowa harshly as he pumped his seed deep into the other boy. His reaction was unthinking; he bit down on the boy's mouth then pulled away, clamping down on his neck and biting hard enough to draw blood. His arms went around Trowa tightly, never letting go, clinging to him.
Trowa whimpered as his arms encircled Heero's neck, tears of pain popping up in his eyes. His whimper this time was pained, but he held Heero willingly, his body still giving tiny upward thrusts as the tidal wave of emotions left him dizzy and disoriented. He idly moved one hand to tangle in Heero's hair, turning his head and kissing the side of Heero's neck softly as he sighed, body relaxing totally.
Heero slid from his lover's body slowly, kissing the wound he left behind and feeling a bit bad for that. He curled Trowa up close to him, snuggling for a moment. "You're all right?" he finally asked.
"Mmm . . ." Trowa instinctively moved closer, if that was possible, to Heero's warmth and sighed softly again. He stretched, cracking his back, then resumed his gentle snuggle. "There's a new way to keep in shape," he murmured to himself.
Heero laughed. "I suppose you could say that." With a grin he kissed Trowa's mouth gently. They lay pressed close to each other for a time, exchanging light kisses. Heero sat up, leaning heavily on his arm, to look down on Trowa. The boy was covered with sweat and visibly exhausted. His hair was limp, his eyes still a little glazed. He looked so gorgeous . . . "I love you."
It took a moment for Trowa to register the meaning behind what Heero had just said. When it clicked he gazed up at the boy in disbelief. "Wh, what?" It couldn't be. No one loved him. Who *could* love him? Trowa shook his head and blinked several times as he tried to comprehend this, but he couldn't. "That's impossible."
"You think so?" Heero's voice was low. He was angry at whoever made Trowa feel that way, but tried very hard not to let his lover see it. "Trowa, I don't lie about things like that. And not to you. I meant what I said, love."
Trowa licked his lips and shook his head again, denying it all. "No. No, it's not true. I can't believe you, I can't." Tears threatened to well up in his eyes and he brushed at them angrily, scared to death of Heero loving him. He wanted that love, needed it desperately, but it frightened him so much.
Heero was afraid now, not sure what to do. Trowa . . . rejecting him? But he thought . . . "I thought you . . ." His face was dark, eyes filled with pain. He tried hiding behind his own masks again but it wasn't possible, not now, not after what they'd done.
Trowa covered his mouth to keep from openly sobbing, body trembling. He was hurting Heero, one of the few people to ever try to be kind to him, and that was making him miserable. But what else *could* he do? How did he try to feel what Heero said *he* felt? And Trowa knew too well what society was like. Homosexuality was barely more accepted now than three hundred years ago, and people were still mocked and killed because of it. Trowa didn't need another weakness, another way to be hurt. He covered his face with his hands again, hiding behind them as he hid behind his clown mask, but he couldn't hide from Heero. They couldn't take back what had just happened, not that Trowa wanted to, and it changed everything. It changed everything.
Heero grabbed his hands and pulled them away from Trowa's face, then cupped the boy's chin in his hand. He made Trowa look him in the eye. "Listen to me. I promised I wouldn't hurt you and I won't. You said you wanted me to stay, and I'll stay. If you want me to leave . . ." he looked ill even suggesting it, " . . .then I will, but Trowa . . . Why?!"
Trowa shook his head, pressing closer to Heero. "Leave," he begged, even as his arms slid around Heero's waist, holding the boy close. "I don't want you; I don't need you. Go away." But as Trowa's pleas for Heero to let him be got stronger, so did his grip. His words said one thing, and his actions totally contradicted them. "I . . . I can't . . . I don't . . . Heero, *please*!" he wailed, pulling his head out of Heero's grasp and burying his face in the other's neck, trembling. This couldn't work out, it was wrong. So why did his heart threaten to burst from pain at the very *thought* of Heero leaving him? He clung to Heero and trembled, every emotion he'd ever suppressed surfacing violently. He held on to Heero like a drowning man, and perhaps that was what he was, a man drowning in his past, in his present, in the uncertainty of his future. He needed an anchor, and Heero could provide that, but Trowa kept trying to push him away out of the fear of more pain, pain he had neither wanted nor asked for, but had been given in abundance. All Trowa wanted was peace, inner and outer.
Heero wrapped his arms protectively around Trowa, glowering at the wall as if it had done something to him personally. "I'm not leaving, Trowa," he said firmly. "Ever. And *no* *one* is going to hurt you again." His eyes slid closed as he inhaled the musky scent of his lover. Very soothing, despite the boy's terror.
"You're hurting me," Trowa whispered. "You make my heart hurt. I . . . I'm not sure it's bad. It hurts, but I kind of like it. It hurts when you're away, and it's bad. It hurts when you're here, and I don't know if it's bad." He was confused, reverting back to simple, child-like thought processes. "I, you . . . you didn't hurt me," he said in wonder. "You . . . what you did . . . I, I liked it. I've never liked it before. That scares me." He worried his lower lip and stared up at Heero. "Why am I scared, Heero? Why does it hurt?"
"I don't know," Heero admitted, "but I'm here, and I'll take care of you. You don't have to be scared, Trowa, because there's nothing on this Earth or in the colonies that can get through me to hurt you. I won't let it." He slid his arms tightly around the other, kissing him again. "Will you promise not to leave me?"
Trowa looked down, face flushing. "One of us could die in battle . . ." He let Heero kiss him, eyes a little wide. "Will we do that again if I stay?" It was an honest question; Trowa had liked the sex, and wanted to do it again sometime in the near future. He flushed again, worried that he'd sounded like a slut for saying that. Trowa snuggled closer to Heero, mouth tracing tiny patterns on the darker, Asian skin, breathing in the sent of their lovemaking, and beneath that, the scent of Heero himself. This was nice, he decided. This was very, very nice. He didn't want to get up any time soon, and decided that he'd just lay there and not move unless it was to do something that involved Heero. Yes, that was a good plan. He nodded slightly and a small, happy smile slid across his lips.
Heero came to the conclusion that Trowa was both unstable and insane. He thought about that for a moment, then brushed it off. No worries; Trowa wasn't insane in the same way Heero was, so they wouldn't make each other worse. Although this did bring out a number of protective instincts in Heero that he never expected to have. "Yes, we'll do that again. Repeatedly. We'll also do this . . ." He pushed Trowa into a comfortable spot on the bed and wrapped himself around the green-eyed pilot, pulling Trowa's head onto his shoulder. Once settled in, he covered them both with the blanket, then hummed softly under his breath. Heero was quite happy at the moment. He sighed. Quite happy.
Trowa purred softly in counter to Heero's hum, relaxing in the arms of his lover. He smiled softly and sent a silent thanks to the moon for putting them in this mood. Trowa’s breathing started to even out and he jerked a little, trying to stay awake. He was still half-afraid he'd wake up and find it all to be a dream. If it was, he didn't want to wake up. He wanted to stay here and have Heero beside him forever, never being hurt again. He sighed as his eyes started to drift shut again, then jerked himself awake.
"Sleep, Trowa," the other boy whispered. "I'll still be here when you wake up." His mouth brushed against Trowa's throat. "WuFei and Quatre will be back sometime tomorrow," he added absently, then glanced down at his lover, thoughtful. "Making love with them in the house is going to be challenging."
Trowa looked up at Heero, afraid again. If Quatre and Wufei knew . . . If they suspected . . . If they didn't like it . . . Tears filled his eyes and he looked down, hoping Heero hadn't noticed. "I guess, I guess we won't, then." It wasn't the sex that Trowa was worried about. They all had their own rooms, but after tonight he didn't *want* to sleep alone. He wanted to be held by Heero, not holding his pillow.
Heero snorted. "Not likely. I just don't need WuFei bitching about the noise. Besides, I don't intend to sleep alone when you're around." He stroked Trowa's hair lightly, admiring the beauty beside him. He was built perfectly. Heero couldn't help being amazed by that acrobat's body.
The young man blushed at both the gaze and the words, closing his eyes again and letting himself relax. "Promise? Promise you'll stay with me?"
"I swear. On my honor." He kissed the boy, pulling him closer. "We'll move your stuff into my room tomorrow. I have the better bed."
"But . . . What if Wufei or Quatre say something? What do we say?" He hated lying to his friends, but Trowa didn't think he could stand the onslaught of prejudice he was so terrified of. "They're going to ask questions . . ."
"Trowa . . . If they're our friends it won't matter. If they ask, we tell the truth. It's nobody else's business anyway." He snuggled up to the boy in his arms, kissing him softly. "Besides, Quatre sleeps with WuFei."
"He does?" Trowa lifted his head again. "Do they share a room? Or does Quatre sneak in?" He couldn't remember ever seeing them together, or seeing Quatre's things in Wufei's room. He relaxed a bit again. Maybe this would work out . . .
"Depends. Usually they have their own rooms. WuFei likes his privacy and sometimes they argue, and need to be away from each other for a while." Heero gazed at his lover. "Not like us. I don't intend to let you go. Ever. You're going to have to put up with me being possessive; if anyone tries to take you from me they'll have to die. Think you can live with that?" His touch was gentle. Of course, he'd never hurt *Trowa*. That would be defeating the purpose. But anybody who got between them was fair game for fertilizer.
Trowa sort of laughed at that, then nodded. "I can live with that." Not like them? No, not like them. Never like them. He sighed softly and snuggled closer to Heero, intending to sleep for real this time.
End
::Dusts her hands back, sits back, and cackles maniacly, softly to herself::
Tabs and Sailor Zoisite the wannabe Shinigami
Please send comments to Tabs at: puckrobyn@aol.com and Sailor Zoisite at: Shinigami1@gundamwing.org.