Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, wish I did, just enjoy writing about 'em
for free etc
see part 1 for warnings
Summer Sweat +
The morning arrived, with a
sharp, bright sunlight, that promised as hot a day as before. In room
6, two naked bodies lay casually together on the bed, sheet thrown off
in the night. The dark-haired young man lay curled around a thick pillow,
clutched to his chest. The chestnut-haired man lay stretched out, on his
back, staring at the ceiling. There was a jar that may once have been
full of soft, lubricating gel, rolled half-empty on to the floor. A desert
bird screeched once as it passed overhead - there was the soft hitch and
rumble of an air conditioning system starting up. Though it was unlikely
to be equal to the task of this weather. There may have been the soft
sounds of bare feet on the corridor outside the room.
Trowa didn't hear them. He slipped his feet over the side of the bed,
and stretched. His muscles ached. The result of several days scrunched
up in a battered old car, he guessed. Then he felt the warm, regular breath
on his hip, and he turned back to look down on the man sleeping beside
him. He smiled. Guess the extra exercise might be to blame, as well!
Heero had been a revelation! He had never known his companion was so uninhibited
- so eager for sex. And so willing to try something new. Or some things...
mused Trowa. His face grew hot at the memories. There'd been the first,
hot, fierce time. Then more caresses - more stimulation. More penetration,
of an ass now stretched and eased with the silky, sticky remnants of his
own cum. More, gasping, astonishing climaxes. And then some more...
His early morning erection twitched its approval. And perhaps its greed...
Trowa reckoned he had a healthy enough libido for a young man, but he'd
never felt quite so rampant before. It felt as if the heat were crawling
through his very skin, and not just from the sun, sneaking through the
shutters. He felt the blood throbbing through his veins; the lust lingering
in his tired limbs. He teased at his rigid cock, torn between calming
it down, and giving in to its demands. It was still a little sticky, with
crusty white trails...he eased some trapped hairs out from the foreskin.
With a sigh, he saw that Heero was still deeply asleep. He'd not disturb
him yet. Anyway, he ought to go and check out the car, see what state
it was in to get them going again this morning. Then he'd find some coffee,
or breakfast, and bring it back for them both.
His stomach rumbled, with the thought of breakfast. He realised with some
distraction that he had other appetites just as ravenous as his lust.
And ones that were more easily attended to! There would be breakfast here,
surely - as there had been supper, the night before. Prepared by the astonishing,
yet obviously talented Wufei. He remembered the taste of the food, sharp
and exciting on his tongue. It had been very good...
He reached for his clothes to get dressed.
Trowa folded himself out of the car, and slammed the door shut. The hinges
creaked. The metal was already beginning to heat up in the sun, and his
fingertips smarted from the touch. He wished, not for the first time,
that he swore with the same ease as Heero. The situation called for it!
He fumbled under the hood, and wrenched it up. He stared at the engine
like it was gonna cry 'good morning' to him, and diagnose what the trouble
was itself. He prodded experimentally at some of the grime-encrusted workings.
Or not workings, as the case may be. He wondered if Heero knew
anything about cars. He was beginning to realise that there were more
things he didn't know about his lover than the things that he did.
Wufei stood at the main door to the motel, leant slightly against the
post. He held a couple of boxes of eggs, presumably on his way into the
kitchen. Trowa hadn't seen him appear, but then, he'd not been concentrating
on anything but his frustration.
"Damn car won't start!" snapped Trowa. He reckoned he needed someone to
sound off to. Didn't have Heero here, taking his share of the hassle,
did he? "It was on its last legs when we arrived, and it looks like they've
given way as well. Not a murmur - it won't even turn over."
"I'll have a look," said Wufei. His voice was calm, and authoritative.
He put down the boxes on the step and came over to stand beside Trowa.
He had a cool, morning smell about him; like he'd just washed. Like he
wore a light cologne, and it was still fresh from application. Trowa tried
to ignore it - he was worrying about the car, wasn't he?
Wufei bent over the engine, and reached confidently for a fixture - he
twisted it. Sighed, when it wouldn't move. He straightened up, and squinted
at the sun climbing above them. Then his eyes plunged back down quickly,
and caught Trowa gazing at him. Trowa blushed. Wufei just smiled. Without
a word, he reached for the hem of his tunic top, and peeled it easily
up over his head and off his body. He was half-naked now, and Trowa couldn't
stop himself from staring. Above the pair of them, the sky was a pale
blue with the morning light. There was a sudden, pregnant silence. Wufei's
skin was darker than Quatre's - nearer to Heero's tone. A line around
his neck of emerging sweat drops shone with a sharp reflection; the muscles
of his torso rippled with his movement. Trowa noticed the unusually dark
pigment and size of his nipples. He also noticed the ache in his groin
- his morning hunger was being piqued beyond food. He wished he'd woken
Heero, after all, and claimed some relief...
What the hell was he going on about? he berated himself. One sex-filled
night, and he was obsessed by the whole thing! He shook his head slightly,
to break the tension.
"Ah - it's OK, I can call a mechanic -" he began. He didn't want to move
away and look rude - but Wufei's hip was pressing against his, as they
stood together at the car. Wufei had bent again, to look around the engine.
Trowa couldn't help but admire the obviously knowledgeable way that he
knew his way around a car. He also saw the waist of Wufei's pants slip
down a little, showing the shallow dip at the base of his spine, before
it curved into the cheeks of his ass. That dip was one of the most sensual
things he'd ever seen. He felt a lot hotter.
"Distributor seized," said Wufei.
"It's seized. No spark. It'll not run without repair - without a new distributor."
Wufei's voice was a calm monotone. He stretched back up, and twisted his
shoulders to loosen the muscles. Then he turned suddenly, and his hand
grasped Trowa's wrist. He leaned down a little, for he was a good four
inches taller. "Nothing will run without a spark," he murmured. His tone
was richer, now - much smoother. The sound rolled lasciviously from his
lips. A smile teased at the corners of his mouth.
"Let me go -" gasped Trowa.
Wufei let go of his hand, with a laugh. "You're covered in oil, like me.
We'll clean ourselves off in the kitchen."
"Ahh.. no, I'll go back to the room..."
"In the kitchen," repeated Wufei. His dark eyes fixed on Trowa's, and
they were like deep pools of command. Trowa felt the Presence tighten
its coil in the pit of his stomach; felt it lick at his balls.
He was suddenly, irrationally scared. Scared at what was inside him, apparently
beyond his control.
Then he was angry with himself, for being so fanciful. So stupid!
It was the heat again - he was hungry. The man was only trying to help...!
"Sure," he said, looking down at the stripes of black on his hands and
arms - a smudge across his tee shirt. The pungent smell of motor oil was
suddenly very vivid to him. "Sure - lead the way."
Trowa had peeled his own shirt off, and they'd both cleaned up in the
big enamel sink of the kitchen. He was relieved to see that he'd been
right - there was a breakfast being prepared. He could smell the cooking
bacon; see the breaths of smoke rising from the pan on the hob. His mouth
filled with saliva at the smell alone. He wandered over to look, and forgot
to put his shirt back on. Or so he would have justified it.
"Are there other guests staying here, Wufei?"
The other man smiled slowly at him. He, also, remained shirtless. "There's
plenty of room here, Trowa. Though others will come. But not today. This
is for you."
Trowa spun round to stare at him. The tone had been...odd... "Me?"
Wufei shrugged. He moved beside him; he appeared to be busy at the hob.
"You - and your companion. Pass me the eggs, please."
Trowa went to the tray of eggs, and passed over a couple to Wufei's outstretched
hand. Trowa's eyes were drawn to the ripple of muscles along his chest.
He really was built most splendidly. Arms that looked like they could
lift anything - anyone. Yet Trowa knew his touch could be gentle,
if he chose. The way he took the eggs - so carefully. Cradled them...
Unbidden thoughts of being in Wufei's hands flooded Trowa's mind. Thoughts
that made him flush, even beyond the aromatic warmth of the kitchen.
He shook his head, angry at himself. Everything seemed to be sexual to
him this morning!
"Where can we get a replacement distributor, then?" he asked. "How far
into the next town?" He wondered where they kept their own vehicles. They'd
have something, wouldn't they?
"A guy will be out with supplies later in the week," replied Wufei. He
cracked an egg sharply, on the edge of the pan. It hissed as it fell into
the hot oil. "He'll take your order."
"But don't you have a car we could borrow? Or a phone, to call up a local
"No car. No phone," said Wufei.
"No phone?" said Trowa, incredulously. "No phone? How do you manage?
How do you get in contact with the town?"
Wufei shrugged. "Maxwell deals with it all. We don't need anything else.
The guy will come, and we'll tell him to find what you need, and that'll
"This is ridiculous -!" spluttered Trowa. A trickle of the fear was back,
spitting heat around him, mimicking the fried eggs, cooking in the pan.
Wufei turned and stared at him again. He looked amused again, as well.
"Don't you have a cell?"
Trowa flushed. "The battery's dead. Has been for a day or so. I didn't
bring a charger." He didn't have to justify himself to this guy like this
"You left in a rush," stated Wufei. "You were too eager to leave it all
behind. You didn't think where you might be headed to. Life needs commitment
to both, Trowa."
Trowa was shocked at the man's nerve. He was just a member of staff here,
wasn't he? Just because he was damn right -!
"Look..." he began. "It's - it's awkward. Y'see, we don't have much money
left to pay for the room. We never thought we'd be stuck here for more
than a day - two at the most. We were heading for the city - we were gonna
get jobs, and a place of our own. Pay our way then."
Wufei was smiling at him, in that slow, self-confident way that - just
this morning - was beginning to irritate the hell out of Trowa. He turned
away from the cooker, and with a studied, graceful ease, he stretched
his arms up above his head, lacing his hands together; popping the joints
of his fingers. He waited until he knew that Trowa was looking at the
softer, paler underside of his arms, and the glistening trail of sweat
in the hollows by his neck, and then he spoke.
"That's fine. We will wait. You'll pay your way."
"I mean - we will do that," Trowa rushed on.
"Yes," said Wufei, firmly, still with that knowing, half-smile. "I said
you will. There's plenty of room here, I just told you. Just relax."
Trowa's eyes narrowed. Relax... He thought of Heero, lying back
in the room, dozing. There was something dreadfully indolent about everything
here. He felt it himself - the seductive lassitude. No phones... no cars....
"As soon as we get a job..." he finished, rather lamely. He resented having
to be like this; he felt at the mercy of this man. This gorgeous, sensual
man, who appeared totally calm in the face of anything; who had the superb
physical condition of an artisan, but apparently the creative talents
of an artist.
"A job," mused Wufei. His eyes held Trowa's until he flushed under his
gaze. "You could do some work here for us, if you like."
It sounded a good idea, Trowa thought. It would help pay off their expenses
here, and keep them busy until the repair guy turned up. But what would
they do -?
Wufei read his next question as if he'd spoken it aloud. "Quatre needs
help fixing the fencing, and things around the building; Heero could help
him. And you could help me in the kitchen."
"What - will I do?" Trowa laughed, a little too loudly; too falsely. "I
can't cook, I don't think." He'd just been told that there were no other
guests - there were no other vehicles in the yard. What the hell kept
these guys busy all day?
Wufei stepped away from the counter, leaving the eggs popping quietly
under a low heat. He stretched out his hand - the hand that had held the
eggs safe; the hand that had cracked them firmly against the metal of
the pan...and he took hold of Trowa's arm. "What does it matter to you?
You just want to be with me."
"Wha -?" protested Trowa. His body felt on fire; the dark-skinned man
held him too tightly to pull away - yet not hard enough to hurt. Not yet...
Why did that thought thrill him, rather than terrify?
His words were stuttering. "Look - I guess we could stay another day.
I guess I could help out here. But - ah - when will the guy be out here
Wufei took just a single step - but now he was up against Trowa's chest,
the hot, strong torso against his own slimmer, shivering one. Wufei's
skin was a hair's breadth away. A thin trail of sweat ran down from a
nipple - Trowa fought the almost irresistible desire to bend his head
and lick at it...
"He'll come when he wants. He'll take the time he takes."
Huh? thought Trowa. That was no answer at all. And he watched as something
that looked like his own hand reached out and laid its palm flat on Wufei's
chest. The skin was almost hairless; he could feel the beat of the other
man's heart under the sharp plane of his ribs. Wufei drew in a deep breath
- under his fingertips, Trowa felt his lungs move in and out.
"So will you, Trowa, won't you? Take the time you take. Take whatever
How could such a simple conversation be so charged? thought Trowa. He
felt as if his hand were fused on to Wufei's body. He wanted it to stay
there indefinitely - to caress that hot skin. To slide down slowly; to
trace out each well-defined muscle. To reach for the stomach; touch the
groin. Twist the curling hairs around his fingers - take the rearing cock
into his fist -
"Take me..." whispered Wufei's voice, though Trowa couldn't see
his mouth moving. And now he listened more closely, he wasn't sure it
was Wufei's voice at all. He just felt the beat of Wufei's heart, and
the quickening of his breath on Trowa's neck, and the strange, silent
He wrenched his hand away as if it were in a lion's mouth. He saw Wufei's
eyes widen. Then he saw nothing, except for his own feet, as he turned
and stumbled out of the kitchen.
There was something in his way as he made for the door - not a person
- but not a shadow, either. Something as tall as he was - with the smell
of man, and the touch of skin, as he lurched against it. He jerked away,
and twisted past, blind to its form.
He just knew that it was something to do with the Presence.
And was therefore to be feared.
"He likes you," smiled Quatre. "The dark one. He wants you, badly."
"Of course," said Wufei. It didn't seem to bother him. He stood at the
cooker, stirring a pot of beans; adding some sauce and seasoning.
"Your recipes are as persuasive as always," murmured Quatre. He was sat
up on the worktop, beside the cooker, legs swinging gently. Tap, tap -
his bare heels drummed a slow tattoo against the wooden doors of the cupboards.
He wore his ubiquitous shorts, but no shirt this morning. His hair was
attractively mussed, as if he'd combed it carefully, but then run his
hands wildly through it. He dipped a finger in the pot on the hob, and
dragged it out slowly. The thick, rich sauce dripped down from his fingertip
- a single, pale red bean hung from his skin. He lifted his hand, and
caught the globule of food on his outstretched tongue.
Wufei was watching him. He put down the spoon. Quatre stared back. He
poked his wet finger into his mouth, and slurped the rest of the sauce
"Tastes good... and full of what you do best, Wufei...sauce and seasoning..."
He said no more. Wufei's hands were on his shoulders, pushing him none
too gently, back down on to the tiled counter. He stood over the blond
boy, as Quatre wriggled to get comfortable, his head up against the wall,
his legs still hanging over the rim. His chest was heaving a little more
noticeably than before.
"He'll go back to his companion, you know."
"I know. He cares for him. Or thinks he does." He tugged at the shorts
the blond boy was wearing - Quatre sighed as they dropped off his ankles,
and his exposed cock sprang quickly to attention. A single drop of pre-cum
oozed softly on to his stomach, and his muscles shivered in reaction.
"Maxwell's here," he whispered.
Wufei smiled. "Maxwell..." he called, softly. "Duo Maxwell - join us now!
He's ripe for us; the dark one. He thinks he's in control..."
"In control of nothing!" broke in the third voice. And this time, the
speaker stepped into full view of the kitchen.
It was as if the air rushed suddenly into a gap, seeking to fill it; as
if the temperature of the room shook with fear, torn between rising suddenly
or plunging down to an icy cold. There was no kitchen at all; there was
no ground underneath them. Just the man at the door. A tall, slender,
well muscled man. Sharp, sapphire blue eyes; wide, sensual lips. A look
of complete confidence - almost arrogance. Long, dark hair, the colour
of a wild animal's soft-harsh pelt. Braided behind him, like a girl's.
Swinging behind him, teasing at his ass. Shouting out his singularity
like a town crier. Not that either of the men in the kitchen doubted that.
Nor his superiority over them. Their bodies tensed - the blood coursed
more fiercely in their veins. Their pulses rose many beats - and whether
from excitement or fear, they couldn't have said. Inevitably, it was from
a mixture of both. Neither of them could have told you how the man dressed
- if, indeed, he was dressed at all. It didn't matter to anyone. And certainly
Wufei smiled; an expression of pure pleasure. He lifted the boy's legs
on to his shoulders, gripping his hips with his large, strong hands. Quatre
whimpered encouragement. The man didn't speak, but Wufei looked to the
far side of the kitchen, and acknowledged some kind of message; his mouth
twitched in the smallest of satisfied smiles, and he inclined his head
as if to accept orders.
"For the dark one, my twisted master..." he whispered. "Watch me..." He
shifted Quatre's legs wider, exposing his white, shining flesh, and the
long, slim cock, dark with its eagerness, rising out of the blond nest
of hair. Then he pulled his own pants down to his hips, and pressed firmly
into the boy beneath him.
There was a cry of pleasure, and a grunt of lust surrendered to.
"It's good," murmured Maxwell. His hand stroked gently at his groin, in
the same rhythm as Wufei's thrusts. "The dark one is good. He will
be good. But the other - he is sweet beyond my desires. My imagination.
Quatre's moans grew louder. "Maxwell...!" he gasped. "Duo...touch
The braided man moved towards them, and stood behind Wufei's jerking body.
He slipped a hand around the dark-haired man's waist. His body moved gently,
in mimicry of Wufei's fucking. They moved together, as if they both fucked
Quatre's open, begging body, thrusting into him together. Wufei leant
back lightly, and brushed his ass against Maxwell's groin.
"He's been taken only by the one. But he's still waiting for his true
one. It makes him..." Duo Maxwell sighed, and his forehead temporarily
furrowed. "It makes him more difficult to see. I don't understand that..."
Wufei was grunting - his climax was approaching. Duo stretched his arm
further around the front of his sweating body, and grasped Quatre's straining
cock. At the same time, he slipped the other hand down into Wufei's pants,
and cupped his ass, pinching at the narrow channel between his cheeks.
His fingers found the soft bed behind the balls with unerring accuracy
- and probed confidently at the tight hole behind, tempting it to flex
and pucker up, begging for more. Wufei groaned at the touch.
"The dark one cares for him," mused Duo. "If either of them knows what
that means...He wants to possess him. But he's not anyone's to possess!"
Wufei shuddered, and his thrusts became fast and shallow, stimulated not
only by fucking Quatre, but by the assured hand at his asshole. It was
enough to tip him over the edge. He grunted, bent double as his cock leapt
inside the boy underneath him, and his seed spewed out into his tight
channel. Quatre writhed under him, legs spread wide and straining to reach
around the broad torso, and he wailed as the pressure of the third man's
hand on his shaft increased.
"Duo - harder - please, harder -", and he moaned, clutching at
Wufei as his climax dragged at his balls, and burst the boundaries of
his tortured cock, crushed between them. Duo withdrew his hand, just as
the seed began to spurt out. It came out like a geyser, coating both stomachs,
as Wufei still lay panting on top of him. Quatre made sounds like soft
sobs. Perhaps that's what they truly were.
"Not anyone's to possess. Right?" repeated Maxwell. He lifted his hands
from the other two, and stepped away, as if he were removing his very
presence from the world. Wufei felt the chill at his back - Quatre the
cooling stickiness of an ecstasy now gone, and a shrivelling of his deserted
"Except perhaps mine."
Trowa found his feet almost too fast for him, as he rushed back to the
room. He was disturbed by so much - by the unreliable car; by the exciting
night he'd had with Heero; by Wufei's unnerving touches in the kitchen.
Exciting touches, his mind teased.
And more where that came from, teased the tantalising memory of
the Presence. It was still with him - it was in his head; in his eyes.
In his crotch...
He groaned quietly to himself - he'd still not had breakfast! No wonder
he was so off kilter. He'd rouse Heero, and they could go and find something
together, and decide what to do about the car and everything.
But Heero was already up when he let himself back into the room. He turned
and smiled at Trowa, a little self-consciously. He had a thin sleeveless
vest on, and some shorts that Trowa never even knew he owned, let alone
had packed. They were more modest than Quatre's outrageous fashion statement
of the night before; but the sight of Heero's slender, lithe thighs was
still very stimulating. Trowa couldn't help his eyes drifting that way.
"Hi. Where'd you get to?"
Trowa's mouth opened to reply - then he seemed to think better of it.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his arms folded tightly against his
chest. "Looking for breakfast - are you coming with me?"
Heero stared at him, a little puzzled at his agitated state. "Sure. I
just had a wash, and went for a walk along the corridor - had a look at
that courtyard we passed. It looks like it'd be pleasant to sit out there;
there's some shade over the benches. And that's a pool in the centre -
well, it's dried out at the moment, I guess, though this is just the weather
when it'd be great to take a dip -"
"Whatever," said Trowa. It came out like a snap, and he wished for a second
he could bite it back. Heero's words stopped abruptly, and his face twisted.
Trowa felt like a real shit.
Heero frowned, and he snapped himself. "So what the fuck's up with you
this morning? I don't remember you being so tongue-tied last night,
when you were licking my ass!"
Trowa winced at the crudity in the bald light of day. Flushed at the delicious
memory. "Yeah, but I'm not the one who sprayed curses around like rice
at a wedding, and shrieked his needs at a decibel level that'd wake the
It was Heero's turn to flush. "You bastard, Trow! You gotta problem with
my bedroom etiquette, you can go fuck yourself, and that's not just swearing,
Trowa grimaced. "No - Heero - look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset
you. It was great - you know it was - I mean, it was great for me
- never better -"
Heero sighed. "Sorry, too. It's the heat, I guess. Or - whatever." He
busied himself with folding a towel that was already folded. Settling
a pile of them that had already been settled. Trowa thought that he was
already in a mood, and it wasn't gonna pass any time soon. He wanted to
kick himself. Wanted to kick someone.
"What about the car?" asked Heero, his back still to Trowa. "We ready
to get going yet?"
So Trowa told him the bad news. He sat down heavily on the bed beside
"Damn! But you reckon Wufei can fix it, if we get the part?"
"Well, yeah -" said Trowa. "But we don't know when that'll be, and we
have to wait for this delivery guy to turn up, and Wufei doesn't seem
to know anything else about it -"
Heero put out a hand to him, rather tentatively. "Why are you so worried
about it, Trow? Another day or so won't matter. There'll be someone out
soon - they have to have food delivered, don't they? We'll either get
the car fixed then, or hitch a lift into town."
"I'm not worried, right? But we don't have much money, and there's a way
to go yet before we get to the city -"
Heero laughed. Trowa realised it was the first time he'd heard him laugh
for a couple of days. "But we've been given an option, to help out - to
pay our way for a bit. Don't you want to help Wufei out? With his miraculous
cooking? Sounds like you two have had quite a chat this morning already
It was a joke, but Heero realised he'd misjudged it. He didn't understand
Trowa's tension. He thought that his lover's response was disproportionately
"Shut up, Heero! You know nothing about it! I'm trying to make the money
last, and do the best for us, and it's nothing to do with Wufei, OK? We've
gotta get going - we've gotta move on the fastest we can. But then, maybe
you fancy helping Quatre out, eh? Maybe with more than a coupla
nails and some yard repairs!"
Heero snorted, his mood instantly defensive. "What the fuck are you saying?
You are way outta order -"
Trowa raced on - he was barely in control of his words, now. The Presence
was taunting him - mixing the guys together in his head, confusing him.
"Don't be so na´ve, Heero - you can see it as well as I can! He's dripping
with it - the come-on; the buy-one-get-one-free invitation. I saw the
way he looked at your ass. The way he drooled over you in the hall,
all the time he was spreading his cheeks for a bit of fondling up his
"You stupid jerk!" yelled Heero. He lurched up to his feet, abruptly.
What was going on here? What had happened to Trowa, to turn him like this
so suddenly? He couldn't remember them ever arguing - though maybe it
was because he never really disagreed with Trowa before. It had made for
an easier life for both of them. He was rapidly rethinking that approach
this morning. "Who d'you think you are? I choose what I want to do, OK
- not you! And I'm here with you, aren't I? Leaving it all behind for
you! Dammit, you're fucking me, aren't you? What the hell else
do you want from me?"
"Stop it, Heero - I didn't mean - "
"So what did you mean?" Heero was past compromise, now. It had
been a hell of a week so far - and now no car, no idea where in the damn
country he was, apart from being in a small room with a guy who'd turned
from lover to abuser in a coupla minutes. "You've always gotta be in charge
of everything, Trowa! Money - car - who looks at my ass! You don't
think I can look after myself, do you? Always the one to say where we
go - when we go - why we go! What the fuck do you know about me,
anyway? You think I'm gonna drop my pants for that hot little half-dressed
boy - when it's you that's drooling over the stud and his sexy food, and
his rippling, fucking muscles -!"
Trowa lifted a hand. He was suddenly disorientated; almost nauseous. The
Presence was demanding something else of him - it needed him...
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! OK? Calm down -!"
Heero tried to pull back his racing anger - the words that seemed to have
been festering just under the surface of his daily conversation, for some
time now. The feelings that had been repressed there, too. "Trowa
- you gonna be like that, I'm outta here, OK? I don't need that! That's
what I'm running from, y'know? Telling me what to do - telling me I'm
always wrong - always stupid -"
Trowa stood as well, and in a single, awkward movement, he clasped Heero
to him. He pressed his mouth down on Heero's busy lips, and he thrust
his tongue into his mouth to silence him. It was all he could think of
doing. It was all he wanted to do. His mouth was greedy, and fierce, and
he felt Heero's surprise beneath it; and then his gradual response.
"I didn't mean it, Heero!" he muttered into the dark-haired man's mouth.
"I just - it's just that it's such a change, to be in control of my own
life at last - to be in charge - not of you - I just wanna be with
you - " He stopped talking, and began moaning, as his hands ran up under
Heero's vest, and sought out the small, erect nipples. Heero arched gently
"It was so good, Heero - last night - I felt so good -"
He pushed them both backwards, up against the bed. Heero's knees buckled,
and he rolled on to his back on the newly straightened cover. Trowa came
with him, touching; pinching; stroking; kissing -
"Make me feel good again, Heero - I need you - I want you so much - get
these damned shorts off, let me touch you -" He struggled with Heero's
clothes, until Heero decided to help him. He pushed his shorts down, the
boxers as well; helped Trowa tug his own pants off.
"Guess the day's too hot to go out until after lunch..." he gasped, as
Trowa knelt at his hips, moaning soft sounds into the creases of his naked
groin. He was aroused, now, as fierce and eager as the first time - as
the last time. As any time! Trowa's hands were on his waist - then
pinching a nipple - then his tongue was reaching for the tip of Heero's
cock, sipping at the drops leaking out. We've never done it in the daytime,
thought Heero, dizzy with desire. It felt very different. Lots of things
were feeling very different at the moment...
"Yeah...We - should stay in here a while. And we gotta keep ourselves
amused, right?" whispered Trowa, and his tongue slid down the soft, warm
skin of his lover's shaft. He couldn't believe his desperation - the agony
of suspense in his balls. The terrible need for it - the need for Heero.
He lifted his face back up to Heero, kissing at his chin - searching for
his neck, his tongue. The taste of him. "What do you want, Heero? Tell
me whatever you want, I just want to fuck you - what do you want?"
"Fuck me," Heero whispered in reply. He took hold of Trowa's soft hair,
smelled the faint traces of both motor and cooking oil in the strands
that brushed his face. He sighed, imperceptibly. He pressed him gently
back down towards his groin - he spread his legs in blatant invitation.
"Just fuck me. As hard as you like. That's all I want, too."
Heero stirred lightly in his sleep. From the open window, the noonday
sun shone on his face, lighting up the moisture on his lips; the slight
sheen of sweat on his heated body. His sleep was deep from exhaustion
and the listlessness that came from the incessant heat. But disturbed,
too, because he slept so rarely in the daytime. His hand had been flung
across Trowa's leg; but now he drew it back. He clutched it around himself,
instead. It was an unconscious withdrawal, and never felt by the other
sleeping man. Heero gave a soft, drowsy moan - his body was aching and
a little bruised, and his dreams were unusually chaotic.
The voice in his head was low, and soft, and it tugged at something inside
him that he never knew he had.
In his dreams, he knew he'd heard it before. It was asking something of
him. It needed his permission. For what, he had no idea.
It whispered to him. It called to him; begged for him to come.
You are not anyone's to possess, Heero. You know that. I know that.
Come and whisper that to me...I will understand...
Heero shook his head a little, as if to clear it. As if to push the voice
away; to deny it. And as he turned away from the window, reaching instinctively
in his sleep for his lover, the voice laughed.
But the laugh was bitter.
[part 3] [part 5] [back
to Fancy Figures' fic]