Disclaimer: Since some people in this world have nothing better to do
than surf the internet, searching for poor, helpless fanfiction authors
to sue, I'll do my typical disclaimer. They're not mine. I make no money
from this piece. Der.
Warnings: Yaoi. Lemon. PWP. *gulp*
Rating: NC-17!!!!! Drama
Spoilers: None. Note: Ummm...err....oh god, I can't do a lemon!! *sob*
Help! Help! Author out of her depth! Uhhh...anyway, the following is as
close as it will ever get, folks...#^_^# Lizzy-chan...OMAE O KOROSU!!!!!!!
Feedback: Desperately craved, especially for this. Please. I need opinions.
The boy's senses came alive
that night, first through skin, tingling, feather light touches trailing
down his jaw and arms, as if one could memorize every line plane of him
through the sensitive tips of their fingers. Slender digits explored every
visible inch, pausing at the interfering folds of clothing shrouding his
torso and legs from view, hiding what they so desperately wanted to see,
to feel, to own. But those wandering hands were not so bold as to remove
the troublesome fabric, instead satisfying themselves with smooth, irony
muscle revealed by his tanktop, learning just from the mere contact of
flesh on flesh. His collarbone, each shoulder blade and cheekbone were
discovered, cherished. A mouth traced the same path, marking the exposed
skin his by right. Slowly Duo felt himself be claimed, from the hinge
of his jaw to the tips of his own fingers, warmed by the breath and presence
of another. Loneliness had been banished for one moon-rise, that ghostly
orb watching them from the window, shining her more forgiving light upon
two boys, framed in a silvery curtain, facing each other, slowly building
an unbreakable bond between them.
Soft lips met his own for one moment, perhaps even less than a moment,
giving him taste for what seemed like the first time. Was there ever a
time before this? He'd begun to wonder, following the progress of a curious,
eager mouth. His own hands, idle though they had been, twitched unexpectedly,
moving of their own accord under his opposite's shirt, pushing the material
aside for a more luxurious surface, velvet lined steel, taunt muscle trembling
slightly under him. Blindly he searched this new place, the hills and
valleys of that map something he would travel well, each new sensation
like a thunder shock upon his mind. Lightening danced behind his eyelids
madly, neither sane nor reasonable. The lungs heaved, Heero's chest nearly
pulsing with need for more air, sweat running down his sides in rivers,
soaking his shirt through. He removed the sticking cotton without thought,
rubbing soothing circles on his now exposed back, hoping to calm his partner.
Still the braided boy's own heart rabbited beneath his ribs, as though
it might simply burst from the exertion. All this, though they'd done
nothing but touch. He forced himself to breathe, shutting violet blue
eyes for a single second to recollect what he'd lost in the last ten minutes
Before any reasonable though emerged, however, his own tanktop had been
removed, long, tapered fingers slipping it off easily, like gossamer from
a spider's web for all the care they used. Again he felt that searching,
wondering touch, callused appendages running across his chest and back,
cool but hesitant, wary of making an error so early. Fingernails traced
his rib-cage lightly, every scar on pale skin treated this way, delicately,
like veins running through marble. Heero murmured something incomprehensible
in the back of his throat, nuzzling the juncture between shoulder and
neck affectionately, telling the world without words that this was now
his and his alone.
Daringly he flicked his tongue against one defenseless ear, pleased when
the boy next to him moaned, blindly leaning into that cool presence. A
new game was devised, Heero savoring everything he could reach; navel,
ribs and sensitive earlobes quickly surrendered to his efforts. Distracted,
Duo's fists clenched slightly, gripping rock-hard biceps tightly when
the pilot of Wing bored of this new world, set on finding another. An
unfamiliar pair of thumbs hooked into his cargo pants daringly, tugging
the cumbersome material down slender hips, millimeter by millimeter, teasing,
taunting. Silk boxers quickly followed, Death bare and defenseless to
the world far sooner than he would have expected. Powerful hands rested
on his shoulders for a moment, another body leaning in ever closer to
where he stood.
"Let me see you," the voice speaking was familiar but not, Heero's
usual monotone never so gentle or caring. He sounded insistent, but pleading,
asking and demanding in the same words. So much had been said by that
simple sentence, yet very little of it was verbal.
Almost timidly, violet eyes cracked open, their owner nearly jumping to
discover the Perfect Soldier barely an inch away from himself, losing
himself in twin seas of blue, drowning in pools nearly black with shadow.
He learned sight, the emotions expressed on that usually blank face a
mural of this strange boy's feelings. Love. Concern. Lust. Friendship.
Grief. Everything melded and combined in that one glance. There was nothing
comparable to what he'd seen. Letting his gaze drift, Duo almost immediatly
realized his comrade was also vulnerable, restricting clothing carefully
discarded; all evidence of what they'd done-what each longed to do-would
be gone by morning.
Heero cleared his throat softly, a hint of red tinting bronze skin. The
braided boy gently caressed the color away, pulling him closer, as near
as either would dare, not quite ready for skin on skin contact, dreading
and anticipating the rest of night at the same time, fearing what they
might do wrong, praying for what they could do right.
Deliberately, the Japanese pilot tilted his head slightly, dropping a
butterfly light kiss on Duo's palm. The American's breath hissed in his
throat, pausing slightly before he captured those same lips for his own,
mimicking Heero's earlier actions, finding his way with hand and mouth.
Daringly he edged farther and farther down the muscular abdomen, always
almost there, never quite in the same place. Heero shifted beneath him,
finally growing impatient and lifting him to his feet, only to tumble
both back onto the neatly made bed, an almost too soft mattress cushioning
their controlled fall. He smiled slightly, leaning over the lighter brunette,
admiring elfin heart-shaped face, wisps of the chestnut hair curling around
pale skin delicately. The effect did nothing to make the slight creature
beneath him more feminine, only innocent. Which they both were.
Pausing only that one minute, Heero slid down between them, keeping his
eyes on Duo's the entire time refuse to break that bottomless, enraptured
gaze. Those same eyes nearly tripled in size during the next moment, Duo's
gasp like thunder in the night, louder than every sound they'd made before.
Still, he'd never experienced anything like this, the heat enveloping
him unmatched by any feeling in the world. It took no time at all for
him to lose to control, inexperienced as they both were. He could remember
seeing Heero in just one moment, than nothing, stars and explosions burning
behind his eyelids. Heero pulled himself back to eye level, burning blue
flames flickering kindly at his partner, an empathy he'd never seen before
shining brightly there.
Almost frantically a pair of lips pressed against his own, searing and
passionate, a demanding tongue questing for entrance. Willingly, Duo opened
up, dueling for his own turn to taste the other, both battling for supremacy,
at the same time yielding to wishes not their own. For several minutes
or perhaps a millennia they lay entangled, the world narrowing into two
beings, nothing else mattering under the moonlight.
At last, they seemed familiar enough with each other, testing, trying,
attempting for eons before the final decision was made.
Heero crouched between long, graceful legs, pressing very gently against
Duo before entering, the American's fists tightening in his hair as he
disrupted the peace, tears leaking out of lavender oceans. Allowing Deathscythe's
pilot to relax more, he waited, though every nerve seemed lit afire, droplets
of sweat trickling down his face and arms. Just by being near the braided
boy-like this-was pure heaven and hell for him, a blessing and a curse.
Shorted, pained gasps slowed beneath him, becoming far more erotic, the
braided boy giving him hearing once more, that deeper voice making such
noises that it was pure music to his ears.
Encouraged by the reaction, he continued, slowly creating a rhythm, reveling
in the heat he'd penetrated, feeling it surround him and welcome him,
like coming home for the first time. He was aware of nothing else in all
space, in the colonies, on earth. The only thing existing for Heero was
the boy beneath him, a familiar musk of gunpowder and clean sweat enveloping
them both. Murmuring in Japanese and English alike, he repeated words
of caring over and over, a mantra neither would remember nor ever forget.
He leaned in to kiss one last time, swollen lips responding eagerly. Joined
in a million different ways, heart, body, mind and soul, they slid over
the edge of an abyss later, one of passion, of lightning, soundless explosions
rocking the twilight.
Heero withdrew swiftly, rolling onto his side, facing the young man beside
him. His, now. Pants slowed to even breathing, not quite asleep, but calm,
in a state of true peace. There could be no wrongs in the universe that
moment; everything remained perfect. Violet met Prussian in a rainbow
of color and agreement, glowing faintly. Slender hands entwined with his
own, squeezing gently. He pulled the boy closer, tucking one arm around
his waist, another lying limply along the lithe torso pressed against
his own. Smiling in his near unconscious state, Duo snuggled closer, quiet
breathing warming his skin as he drifted off.
"Oyasumi, heart. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Sweet dreams, Heero."
//I'm living one...\\
Heero snapped awake in the darkness, eyes opening wide. No real, heated
body lay his arms, the euphoria of his dream stilling in the cool night
air. Stars twinkled from their set in a silken midnight sky, mocking him.
Across the room, a slender elfin boy lay sprawled, twisted in his coverlet.
Chilled. Alone. The Perfect Soldier sighed and turned to his side, icy
sheets cruel against bare skin. Letting sleep descend once more, Heero
resolved to say something soon. He had to. Until then, he would
always have hope, if nothing more.
There would always be dreams.
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