Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters do not belong to me. All standartd
Pairings: 1x2/2x1 Warnings: R, lemony, limey? ...citrus!! there you go...
Notes: Duo pov
Hmm, now a lot of explanation needed for this one! It's, uh, lemon,
or maybe heavy lime when I think of some of the things I've seen
classified as lime... and it's a songfic. The song made me do
it officer! It's very... like that! I must point out that this
is the first time I've tried this sort of thing and so I better say,
I have no idea as to the biology of this thing, it just... kinda happened
like this. And I also have to point out that nothing about this fic, save
the order in which the words are strung together, belongs to me! Gundam
Wing belongs to Sotsu, Sunrise, TV Asahi and other such rich companies
who don't need to sue me; the song Hello Kitten belongs to Hefner,
who probably do need to sue me because they're on a very small indie
label and could use the cash. As to the pics I describe, well, the second
one is by some fabulous dj artist and it can be found at the entrance
page to Smoochies
Max ; the first pic is the only thing I have permission to use, for
it is by the hugely talented and amazingly magnanimous baby_pen!
A million thanks and lots of sweet things to you, baby_pen! Besides that,
what else can I say? I really need feedback on this thing! Oh yeah, and
the lemon parts started getting out of hand (so to speak) so I trimmed
them quite substantially. If anyone would like me to finish writing them,
then this could end up with two companion fics. If it's rubbish though,
I won't inflict them upon you! So let me know one way or another!
Any other warnings? Well, there's a bit of swearing, but nothing
significant; it's meant to be a bit humorous... But yah, yaoi
citrus! You know the drill!
I throw myself back on the bed, laughing at myself, one hand over my eyes.
The other hand... well, let's just say I wish it were yours. I
can't help myself; you've only been gone twelve hours and I
can't control my libido, or other associated areas... Don't
get me wrong, it's not the sex that I'm missing - it's
the sparkly feeling I get when your skin's next to mine, when you're
pressed against me... Hell, I could have sex anytime, all I need is
what I have now... and a few of those strategically-placed photos...
Yeah, those photos! I laugh a little more, amused at my own insatiability.
The first one I find is of myself, and I have to admit I look good in
it - you remember, I'm on my hands and knees on the bed, looking
over my shoulder and smiling at you, behind the camera... wearing that
schoolgirl's uniform you always wanted to see me in. The skirt is
so short you can see my knickers, and I remember how I spread my legs
just a little, enough to tease you... until you ripped off said knickers,
unzipped the fly of your jeans and told me to call you "Sir"
as you sat me in your lap. And on your lap. It might have been rough,
but God it was erotic. You had me face away from you to begin with; you
whispered in my ear, hotly and sexily, that seeing as it was your fantasy,
you wanted me to enjoy it as much as you were. I don't know where
you got the impression that I wasn't, but I wasn't about to
complain as you started to rock your hips up to me just a little, just
shallowly, not enough to give you any satisfaction but enough to make
sure you were rubbing against my sweet spot almost constantly, until I
was gasping with need and you, Mr. Control, were barely breaking a sweat.
So you stroked me a little - it didn't take much - and, while I was
still recovering, you somehow manoeuvred me round so I was facing you,
straddling your hips with you still inside me... Your smouldering eyes,
delicious mouth, not to mention the fact that we were both still almost
fully clothed and you, as-yet unsatisfied, inside me... these forces
conspired that I should soon once again be achingly hard and begging you
to fuck me. So you did, hard this time, and just as amazing. Again when
you knew I was close you stroked me till I saw stars, but still you didn't
let yourself climax, you were still in charge. I collapsed against you,
and you held me for a few minutes... and then you started to whisper.
Things you knew would get me excited again, insatiable one that I am!
This time you wanted sexy little me to do all the work - so I did. No
matter that you'd already given me two mind-numbingly earth-shatteringly
intense orgasms that each reduced me to Duo-shaped jelly, because you
have such an inexplicable effect on me that as soon as you even think
about me in a sexual way - I can tell, y'know - I'm ready again.
And so I was the one moving that third time, even down to touching myself
so you could see: I know you like to watch me; and you know I like to
watch you. I think it was me touching that finally tipped you over the
edge. Finally! And you have will-power of gundanium. I remember I used
to feel a bit upset that I could only make you climax when you let yourself,
when decided to let go; but then you reassured me that it isn't like
that. You may have iron control, but I'm the one who makes you lose
It felt good when you told me that.
It felt good to see you, eyes closed, head thrown back, gasping my name
and shuddering; felt so good I joined you in your ecstasy, screaming,
collapsing into your arms.
I laugh, even as I feel how hard I am right now, unable - and unwilling
- to stop thinking about you. I've been deliberately teasing myself
with light touches, but thinking back makes me want more. So I unfasten
my jeans for easier access, and slip a hand inside. Underwear is for cissies
who don't have the sexiest man in the world for their boyfriend -
it might sometimes get uncomfortable, but this way it's easier to
relieve that discomfort, often at very short notice.
My eye falls upon another photo. I got them out for just such an emergency.
This one is of you, and the moment I see it I feel a sudden upsurge of
excitement. In the photo you're wearing that frilly apron, and nothing
else, but it's the look on your face that really gets me going. It
was the first time you'd dressed up for me, and your expression as
I took the photo showed a combination of emotions. In it, you're
nervous about having the photo taken, not willing for such a pose to be
seen outside out bedroom, in the stark light of lust-free day - but the
point is rather that such a reminder turns said lust-free day into one
filled with all sorts of wonderful lust-fuelled activities. You're
maybe even a little scared of the predatory gleam in my eye, and maybe
you were right to be: I wanted you to act like an obedient servant, a
role which I never would have guessed you'd be so good at. I wouldn't
want anyone else to guess, either: I love our secrets. There's something
else in your expression too, that makes me respond now as then: beneath
the nervousness and uncertainty, there's a look of overwhelming lust.
You look as though you're afraid of such a strong feeling of desire;
it makes you look virginal, unused to your own body and my appetite for
it. The look in your deep blue eyes... But the photo version pales
in comparison to the real thing. Every time I gaze into those eyes I feel
everything slip away, all the frustration I feel at the world for the
bad things that happen; all my frustration at you for not feeling it like
I do. Or, at least, for not showing it like I do: I know you care, or
you wouldn't have been able to do all the things you've done;
and you wouldn't be able to look in my eyes and have that effect
you always have on me. You overpower my anger, make me focus on me and
you, channel my passion into our lovemaking, challenge me into either
submitting to you or making you submit. Either way is good! Because either
way, you make me feel like I'm the only one who could do these things
with you and to you, the only one who could be this part of you: I'm
the only one who can make you purr this way.
Oh God, I can't control it, I'm laughing at myself through my
self-induced pleasure but I'm not doing enough of anything to achieve
any kind of satisfaction just yet: I might have got all night without
you, I have to find some sort of substitute! I just can't stop myself
from giggling! I think of all the wonderful days we've wasted in
bed: no, not wasted, because they've been some of the most life-affirming
sun-shining days of my life. I, or you, or both, might have been a bit
sore the morning after, but I don't even need to mention it was worth
Ah, some of those days spring to my lust-clouded mind right now: days
spent as your pet, sitting on the floor beside you, waiting for you to
give me an instruction or an idea. And I waited patiently! You were surprised
at me for that. But you, I suppose, can never know how it feels to be
me when I'm tending your every need. Perfect, I told you, you're
perfect in everything you've ever done. I'd told you lots of
times; I was convinced of your perfection...
"But not so perfect," you said as you slapped me. I looked at
you, I remember, in surprise. That was the first time you hit me...
Right now I hiss in remembrance of the little sting it gave, so sharp
but so good... ! And I used it to my advantage another day:
"C'mon, Heero, just a little slap!"
"But you've hit me before! Just like I've hit you! Come
on lover, I just want a bit of a bruise, maybe a split lip... "
You looked at me, those inquisitive eyebrows raised.
I smiled, a little sheepishly, but at the same time with a hint of promise:
"I just thought if I looked like I'd been in a fight or walked
into a door Une would believe me when I call in sick."
You thought about that for a moment, clearly enticed by the idea of spending
the day off work, in bed, with me... But... "But what about
me?" you wondered.
But I'd got it all worked out. "Well, I need looking after,
don't I?" I'd been crawling up the bed as you'd been
thinking, and now I pounced, naked, onto your equally nude form.
"I know some much better ways of making your lips swollen and bruising
you," you muttered, moving in close to my throat with your teeth.
I gasped then, and I echo it now... I'm so close, Heero, Heero!
You might not believe me but you've captured my heart, I don't
want it back, it's yours to do what you want with! I feel my body
convulse, out of my control, I'm whispering, gasping, yelling your
name and assorted curses; this is the sort of love I want! We might not
say it all the time but when you want me to hold you, I hold you; when
I need loving you're there.
After a few minutes my body is relatively calm again; I can't prevent
the smile I lost momentarily in the throes of orgasm from returning, from
becoming a giggle: I'm just so fucking happy to be your lover! I
look at the clock and realise I still have no idea when you'll be
back... Oh, if you don't come back soon there'll be nothing
left of me, just thinking about you is enough to wipe me out! But not
for long, sweetness; I know that if I think about you in a short while
I'll be back to square one. I take off my clothes now for something
to do; lick the stickiness off my hand and wipe the rest off my stomach
with some tissue; settle back on the bed with a wide smile on my face,
as I start to think about you again, my sexy lover. Thinking about you
naked, sprawled on the bed like I am now; thinking about being between
your legs, teasing you, keeping you in suspense... maybe cuffing you
to the headboard again, now that was fun...
I giggle again, reach down again, begin to stroke myself again... when
I hear a familiar voice from the doorway...
"Anything left for me?"
I look up, a little startled but still giggling. I don't pause in
my stroking, but meet your gaze as you continue to stand there.
[back to Elyndys' fic]