Author: Maldoror
see chap. 1 for warnings, notes, disclaimers

The Arrangement + Chapter 7
Battlelust, Part II

Wufei barely had time to nod; a hard hand had grabbed his and dragged him off towards the second bedroom. It was small and dark, closed shutters allowing only a sliver of daylight through. Heero tore the cover keeping dust off the bed and threw it over the curtain rail to further block out any light that could come from the room, although who would see it out in the countryside was anybody's guess. But caution was second nature to all of them. The cover underneath the sheet was a knitted white comforter that looked like something an Italian grandmother had made, it caught the last shreds of light in the room in a cool shade of pearl.

Wufei, approaching the bed slowly, found himself gripped by the waist and lowered onto the comforter -- not quite thrown - and a hard mouth covered his. A flicker of wonder -- why did Heero bother doing that, it wasn't tender and couldn't even remotely be considered foreplay -- then the storm of pent-up adrenaline, frustration and need caught him and blew most of his mind away.

He was crushing Heero's lips against his own, arms around the strong neck, rumpling the brown hair, their bodies rubbing roughly together, the bed shivering and creaking beneath them. He found himself panting as Heero tore himself away and leaned over to unlace his boots; the steel caps could leave nasty bruises as Wufei knew only too well. Heero had sparred bare-foot after their first time in the abandoned shed. Which was about as considerate a partner as he got. A slit of light shining beneath the door to the hallway cut out Heero's body in silhouette. The steel hands were clumsy with tension and lust. Wufei felt something clench in his chest. This was the only time the perfect soldier allowed his control to slip, even so minutely. Wufei had somehow never considered how much trust this implied. Well not that much, but for Heero, it was considerable. The parameters of their arrangement were more than just pure relief of a physical need; it was a chance for contact with another person. Wufei hardened at the tactile memory of Heero arching back against his chest. And it was the mutual understanding that this would not interfere with their performance, would not get enmeshed with sentimentality. This was why Heero chose him, and not the more experienced, tempting Duo. Even though, for Heero, there had to be a lot missing in comparison...

They could all be dead tomorrow, and would certainly be before the year was out. Why was he limiting their arrangement to these brief, rough touches?

Because his pride wouldn't allow him to slip from the role of the hardened assured warrior into new territory in which he would be an unsure, vulnerable sixteen year old with no idea what he was doing. The realisation was bitter; that was hardly a good reason. The honesty and trust Heero invested in the arrangement deserved better. Heero deserved better.

Heero's hands were on him again, rough, trying to pitch him onto his back and get on top of him. Wufei squirmed out of the hold and slipped his hands to the bottom of the tank top to pull it up. Heero backed off an inch and rapidly tore it off, then started as Wufei's hands dropped to the idex shorts and pulled on those as well. The L1 pilot's hands were slower as they took over there and slipped the shorts off too. Eyes widened in the gloom as Wufei tugged the sweatpants off. Wufei knelt on the bed and slipped between the hands that reached for him, more slowly as Heero tried to understand this new turn of events. The L5 pilot turned in the grasp, moving back until he could feel Heero's body a few inches from his.

"Let's do this." He said sharply.

He could hear the bedsprings squeak as Heero, still sitting on the side of the bed, leaned forward to rub his chest against Wufei's back, arms moving around his shoulders. Experienced hands dropped down to his erection as skin made contact with skin.

Wufei shouldered the arms away and his hand reached back to tug at Heero's side, leaning his ass back against the hard abs at the same time. "Come on, Yuy."

The hands hovered an inch from his body. "What-...?"

Wufei simply tugged again, indicating that Heero should get on the bed behind him.

The hands touched his skin again, to still his movements more than a caress. Though one of them happened to land on his left nipple which was a...disturbing sensation.

Heero leaned forward, his breath tousled the drying raven strands as he said: "I thought we agreed-"

"Changed my mind. Hurry up." Wufei snapped.

There was a brief pause as Wufei's hair fluttered under a silent exhalation.

"'Hurry up'?" The voice was tinged with a hint of dry amusement. Wufei grunted.

Heero's left hand dropped and curved around Wufei's ribs to linger against his left hip. Since the arrangement and their missions together they'd needed less and less verbal communication, especially when what needed to be said was at a level that words couldn't reach. The touch was a question; are you sure?

Wufei nodded firmly, while forcing his body to relax under the touch. The hand stayed there for a few more seconds, then Heero moved off the bed. Wufei stared over his shoulder in confusion. His abrupt, bewildered move was vocalised by a creak of springs and the swish of his hair on his shoulders. Heero turned back from the door.

"Getting something in the next room. I'll be right back."

Wufei turned again to stare blankly at the wall behind the head of the bed. A flash of cream wallpaper with little bunches of almond flowers and leaves and a small painting had been briefly illuminated as the door opened and closed behind him. Get what? What could they need-...condoms? Well, it must be painfully obvious to Heero that he wasn't going to pick up any sexually transmitted diseases from Wufei, but Yuy had had a previous partner- but condoms had definitely not been part of the kit. Anyway, considering their life expectancy and their boosted resistance to most infections, that was hardly- and it's not like I can get pregnant. The thought flashed through his mind, making a small part of him cringe, the part that still thought pride and honour could be linked to something as trivial as an image of masculinity. Pride and honour came only from his actions, the way he lived his life, fought, and would eventually die. The dead he was sacrificing himself for didn't care what he did with his body, as long as he spilled his blood for them. The only one who cared was Wufei. And he-

The door opened and closed behind him, the sliver of light finding him still in the same position, the almond sprigs winking in and out of existence before his blank gaze. He didn't flinch or move when Heero sat down behind him again. Apparently his body had already made the choice while his mind was still equivocating.

Heero leaned past him, hip brushing hip, and switched on the bedside lamp, to Wufei's slight embarrassment. He had no problems with his body but considering what they were about to do-...oh to hell with it. His eyes had caught a flash of Heero, naked now as he leaned back, and a rather unexpected desire had made his softening erection twitch. He didn't feel particularly attracted to men -- or anybody really -- but this was the first time he'd seen Heero entirely naked and, damn, Maxwell had been right, he was perfect. Lean, hard frame, muscles playing beneath golden-toned skin, violent and beautiful. The hip of one long leg barely revealed dark curls and- Then something foreign in the picture made Wufei twist around to get a better and more straightforward look.

"What-" There'd been a small tube in Heero's hand as he leaned forward to switch on the light.

The tube flashed before his eyes as Heero waved it briefly before his turned face. It was blue and white with a screw-on cap.

"Antiseptic cream for burns. I will have to remember to refill the medical kit when we're back with the Sweepers." Heero added with his usual attention to details at the most inappropriate times.

"Burn cream?" Wufei's mind melted into one big question mark.

"For lubricant. Best we can do in the circumstances." There was a small noise as the tube was uncapped and squeezed.

Wufei almost asked ‘what' again but his knowledge of mechanics and biology meshed before the question could leave his lips and he figured it out with a slight cringe.

Unfortunately Heero didn't need to hear the question out loud; he could read body language as well as Wufei.

"Are you sure?" Heero's voice was brisk and demanding. Not a considerate question; he wanted to be sure Wufei wasn't going to get weird on him later. This could affect his fighting performance.

"Yes." Wufei's voice was calm and certain, his decision had been made and he wasn't the sort to second guess himself interminably. That sort of thing got a Gundam pilot killed. He didn't stiffen as Heero climbed onto the bed to kneel behind him. Heero's left arm wrapped around him again, slipping from his chest to his abdomen in a move that made his skin tingle. Something brushed down his crack and he tried to relax as it lingered, wet and still a bit cold --the cream, probably- around his entrance.

Wufei stared at the wall, trying to ignore the way his heart was hammering irregularly. The picture above the head of the bed was a small cheap painting of some saint or other in baroque colours. The scholar who'd studied art wavered at the back of his mind; Saint John Damascus? Saint Michael?

He couldn't help a twitch as he felt himself penetrated. It was surprise, he'd expected Heero to move him a bit, he was kneeling on his feet, not very accessible...The thought of ‘this doesn't feel like anything much at all' was quickly replaced by confusion as the invader twisted and pushed inside him. That...wasn't Heero's cock.

Wufei hit the embarrassment at his inexperience over the head with a shovel and buried it once and for all. Heero knew he was a virgin, might as well bite the bullet. "What are you doing?" He muttered, grinding out the words reluctantly.

There was silence behind him for a few seconds. Wufei glared at the almond sprigs on the wallpaper, daring them to comment.

"Stretching you. You don't know anything about this." The last wasn't a question.

"No. For some reason I can't conceive of my teachers never covered this in class." Wufei snapped then bit his lip. He wasn't going to start spouting off-colour jokes in his uncertainty, was he? Hell, maybe Maxwell was contagious.

The intrusion --a finger, he gathered- felt...very strange, but it didn't hurt, which was what Wufei had been wondering about somewhat. Damn it...there had been quite a lot of chuckling in the school dorms when one of the older students had smuggled in some of the erotic documents from his Asian study classes. The illustrated texts on homosexual sex had garnered quite a few nervous titters. Wufei rather wished he'd paid more attention instead of sneering and going back to his homework. Of course if someone had told him that two years later he would be participating in such an act between two terrorist missions...he'd have probably decked them.

"Is this part of it?" He growled, embarrassed, this reminded him more of a medical exam or a strip search than sex. But that was a very stupid question. If Yuy was doing it, it had a function...the closest they'd ever come to foreplay was their violent matches and the single massage.

"Yes. This avoids injury to you." Wufei's heart, which was already hammering with excitement, uncertainty and embarrassment, managed to squeeze in an extra beat to allow for sudden apprehension. "And it makes it easier for both of us."

"Oh."

"Fortunately I did some research." Heero's voice in his ear was slightly disapproving. Wufei glared at the almond sprigs and the saint's eyes, full of pathos. Well excuse me if this wasn't part of my mission planning, I hadn't exactly expected to get fucked at the end of it, he thought sourly. Wait a minute...research?

"You've never done this?" He croaked.

"No." The gentle movement stopped. "I had the same agreement about penetration with my former partner."

"Oh." He was saying that a lot. It was a stupid little noise that he normally avoided.

"Do you want to stop?"

Wufei glanced around, though he couldn't see anything, bar the uninteresting décor of the rest of the room; Heero was too far behind him. Did he want to stop? If Heero hadn't actually done this before...was he really expecting Wufei to do this? Dry humping and hand jobs should be enough, after all; this was a bit longer and more involved than he'd thought. They wouldn't often have the time or privacy to...After all, it wasn't as if he wanted to-

The memory was almost a physical blow. The feeling of Heero slamming him against that alley wall and grinding into him, and him arching and thrusting back...and the way that had felt, in the short time it'd lasted. The truth was, he wasn't too sure about this but he did feel like finding out if it got better than that or not. Or even just to find out what it was like. It seemed a pity to die without knowing. Damn maybe the scholar beneath the warrior was still alive and kicking after all.

"I'm not saying I'll do this again, but let's try it." He said sharply. "After all, that's why you did the research, right?" Yes, apparently Heero had been hoping for this, maybe expecting it.

"...actually..."

The intrusion became a bit more pronounced, the movement inside more complex, he realised after a few seconds that Heero had added another finger. Wufei had time to wonder at that word, ‘actually', it wasn't like Heero to use fillers like that, he normally said what he meant straight out...but what was happening to his body was distracting him.

"Is this necessary?" He muttered, wincing slightly. "Just get on with it."

"Are you afraid of changing your mind?" The voice was slightly mocking again. Wufei's head was turned away but he knew his body language betrayed the angry, defensive flush.

"Just hurry up." He growled.

"This has to be done correctly." Heero's voice was precise and unemotional in his ear, moving his hair slightly as it rustled against his shoulder, dried by the harsh cleaner. Inside him, the presence of Heero's fingers was becoming more pronounced, and the muscles around them were quivering a bit with tension. Of course, muscles. Warming them up would prevent injury. Wufei put the alien feeling of the intrusion from his mind, along with the slight throbbing stretch and light pain he was beginning to feel, and rose above them, moving away in a light trance. If he relaxed, then that would probably facilitate things. His heart-rate and breathing slowed, his eyes unfocused, finally losing the almond sprigs and sad look from the Saint which were starting to grate on his synapses. He was detached to the fact that Heero was now moving in deeper as he felt less resistance. This would be easy, really, and over soon. All he needed to do-

Wufei slammed against the arm Heero had still wrapped against his abdomen as a strangled gasp escaped him and he jerked away. Heero immediately froze.

"What-!"

"Did that hurt?" Heero sounded puzzled.

"Idon'tknow." The words tumbled out, apparently stupid but he couldn't describe the feeling of...shock that had run through him, jolting him out of his slight trance. It had felt a bit like touching a live wire, the same shock, clench of muscles, the same trembling afterwards, but instead of pain it had been...Wufei realized that he was hard again, and what was tingling over his nerves wasn't pain as much as an unfamiliar feeling of pleasure. "N-no, I guess not. What-what did you do? What was that?"

"...this?" Heero was moving inside him again. Wufei wasn't sure he wanted a repeat of the experience.

"No. Are you sure- oh!"

"That." Heero's voice sounded ever so slightly smug.

Wufei blinked rapidly, trying to clear the black splotches from his eyes. He realized he was leaning back against Heero's chest, gasping, and it felt like all his muscles had turned to water. A slight shudder ran through him. His heart was hammering against his chest -- Heero's hand had covered it, as if keeping track of his pulse.

"That...I'll let you do the research afterwards." Heero's voice was breathless. If they were doing things ‘normally' they'd already be done by now, Wufei thought, trying to get back to the cold intellectual distance he'd previously achieved. Yuy was probably getting a bit impatient. He tried to ask Heero not to do that anymore, and found that the words stuck in his throat. The sensation ran through him again as Heero's fingers probed, not quite as strong this time, more a shiver of shock/pleasure that made his nerves hum. He licked his lips. His erection, which hadn't been very enthusiastic about all of this until now, was aching, and he was panting. A bead of sweat ran down the skin of his chest leaving a trail of shivers on his skin. Heero's hand was still on his heart, and his slight movement as he shifted position caressed the nipple that had hardened under the sensations, making the Chinese teen flinch.

Wufei felt a flash of resentment, as if Heero and his body were ganging up to outmanoeuvre him. He really wished he'd done the research...forget old Japanese erotica, he could have had this all figured out after ten minutes on the internet. Or five minutes talking to Maxwell, although that wouldn't happen on this side of never. The fingers were still twisting and moving inside him and he forced himself to relax and ride the occasional sparks that resulted from the movements. He found that this attenuated the sensations, leaving only a shimmer of rather disturbing pleasure flicker up and down his skin, making his breath catch in his throat.

Heero's hand left his chest, the sudden coolness prickling the skin over Wufei's heart. From the slight distance of his trance he heard the plastic sound of the tube being squeezed, then the wet crackle of the lubricant being spread. Then the fingers left him -- a bit of a shock at the cessation of all feelings there- and two hands, both slightly gummy with the tube's content, pressed his shoulders forward. Wufei tensed internally but didn't hesitate, leaning forward on his hands and knees, trying not to ‘see' the mental image that- But Heero continued to push, and pulled his hands away from him gently, his body leaning into his --and something hard and wet bumped into his inner thigh and shivered his calm for an instant. The pressure on his shoulders pressed him down until he was flat against the bed, his right cheek sinking into the fluffy white knitted comforter. He felt Heero's hands linger once more on his hips, feeling for hesitation or rejection from his body. Then his legs were spread gently and the overly soft mattress shifted as Heero lowered himself down.

Wufei distantly made himself relax as he felt Heero's hardness against his entrance. He barely had time to worry about the feeling of resistance, of pressure, and then Heero was moving in him. There was a quick throb that barely flashed in his mind. Then it wasn't so bad. Then it...was. Wufei forced himself to relax and breathe regularly as Heero moved in slowly and the pressure against the muscles grew. The whole set of sensations was...more than the fingers. Bigger but also more...solid, and it felt very unnatural. Heero's movements ceased, and he was still for a moment. Wufei blinked away a bit of moisture in his eyes that resulted from the stinging stretch, and focused on the hand that was buried in the comforter a few inches away from his shoulder; large for someone Heero's age, strong, corded with muscle and sinew. Wufei felt a shiver run through his body, and was actually rather glad that he wasn't on his hands and knees, as the sensations and throbbing were making his heart and body twitch and tremble. An American voice in his head chuckled something about being ‘nailed to the mattress' but Wufei ignored it with the ease of considerable practice.

It felt even stranger when Heero began to move, to thrust gently, in and out. The muscles protested -- at the changes in direction as well as the unusual stretch they were being forced to - then subsided. Wufei was still in the remove of his slight meditation, and noted his body's reactions clinically. Under the pain, the strangeness and his detachment, his erection, caught against the white comforter, had subsided again. His body felt heavy and inert. He wasn't feeling too involved in all this, and somehow that disturbed him as much as the sensations. It reminded him of the passive role he'd had at first, the denial. It was as if the acceptance he'd come to, the steps he'd taken when he'd touched Heero back in the mining shack three weeks ago, the decision he'd come to now, were turned back and made moot. It left him feeling a bit empty; emotionally drained at any rate, because physically... he jerked his mind away from that train of thought.

Heero leaned further against his back and the movements became more pronounced. The bedsprings started to squeak in time to the movement, a slightly distasteful accompaniment. The feeling of stretching discomfort rose again, peaked and then faded a bit. Wufei realized with some mental discomposure that he could feel Heero's hips against his ass during the thrusts now. He was trying not to get a mental image of them together, which was probably a bit odd - maybe even weak - but well...it wasn't as if he actually had to like this all that much. He-

He flinched as Heero did that thing again inside, the one that made his entire skin and gut shiver and crackle like a lightning strike. He tried to ignore it, but he floundered short of his previous detachment, the sensations and reality of the situation overwhelming him finally. He bit back a harried groan...

Finally he clung to something else to centre himself; the thrusts ending in a sparkle of pleasure, filling him in a way that was both alien, disturbing and strangely satisfying; the feel of Heero's skin moving against his own, a hard chest rubbing up and down his spine; the sight of the hand starting to grip the comforter, white-knuckled, fingers tangling in the knitted mesh, fibres clinging together with the traces of lube; the familiar smell of the other pilot tickling his nose behind the scent of wool and dust; the sound of Heero breathing against his shoulder and his hair. A tingle ran through him; that sound...Heero's breath quickening and catching and the faint hint of a moan behind it was making him shiver, he remembered the eroticism of the man rubbing against his chest -- Heero was moving more easily in him now, and that little kick inside was making him shudder and his erection twitch against the comforter...

With something between defeat and relief he let go, surrendered to the sensations that were piling up too fast for his harried, confused analysis, and he felt them overwhelm him in a warm buffet of feelings that was very different from the usual bitter stormwinds that tore at him. He thought --

hn, that- that again-

he thought that maybe --

Heero's breath rasped and a real groan escaped the lips an inch from the skin of his shoulders making Wufei's heart leap with some indefinable satisfaction-

maybe this-...- this wasn't so bad after all...

Heero's hands ripped themselves from the comforter's strands and scrabbled to slide beneath Wufei's chest to grip his shoulders and anchor their bodies together, and Wufei felt three or four sharp thrusts against him, shaking his entire body and making him arch his back in pleasure or pain, he couldn't even say anymore -...Heero gasped loudly and his body sank into Wufei's, and the Chinese youth could feel a heart hammering against his back. Heero drew in a shuddering breath, swallowed. His breath was harsh and ragged in Wufei's ear, his cheek resting against the dark hair, tousled and tangled with all the activity. The aching pressure -- which had already subsided to a drop in the deluge of sensations -- started to ebb quickly. Wufei's entire skin was shivering a bit, and the very air seemed to be tickling him as it brushed by.

Heero grunted slightly and moved away. Wufei shuddered under a barrage of unusual feelings; emptiness, an unpleasant wet sensation, sore muscles clenching slightly. He felt Heero fall besides him on the bed, springs squeaking one last time. Wufei found a shaking hand -- his own, to his surprise - rise to smooth down the strands of the comforter that had been wrenched by his partner. He didn't turn the other way to look at Heero who lay besides him -- on his side, from the way Wufei could feel a breath rustling his hair still.

Hands gripped his hips and turned him around, rolling him slowly onto his back. Wufei glanced up at the flushed face, haloed by the bedside light. Steady cobalt blue eyes searched his own for, he realized, traces of pain or regret, or, to put it in Yuy terms and also the way he thought to the very core; assessing his status. Wufei held the gaze, unashamed and steady. The eyes were blank and hard but the shoulders relaxed and the neck lost its slight tension as Heero realized that Wufei was, after all, okay with this - and a bit too late if he wasn't, anyway, Wufei thought with a limp twinge of irrational humour.

Then the lips curved ever so slightly. Wufei realized consciously something he'd already understood at an instinctive level for quite some time. Heero's eyes showed his soul and that was frighteningly mechanistic. When he smiled or scowled or used his mouth in any way, it was deliberate, controlled, a movement designed for clear-cut communication...no wonder Wufei relied instinctively on the man's body language to know what he was really thinking, because Heero's control never let something like that slip as far as his face. The other pilots thought Heero was a cold, unemotional bastard which wasn't entirely wrong but they were missing the little that was there. Only a complete knowledge of martial arts and the education he'd made of the body above his allowed Wufei to read anything more than those lips wanted to express.

In this case though his thoughts wasn't hard to follow, as Heero's eyes dropped down the smooth, hard chest under his palm to the erection lying against the soft skin of the lower abdomen. Wufei found a part of himself quivering with anticipation as Heero's hand smoothed down his skin towards the head of his erection, a thumb gently swiping the moisture from the head in a little burst of shivering sensation. Then the cold curve of lips broadened, still controlled. Wufei realized he had a good view of what he'd only seen in a flash before, Heero's body in its naked glory lying besides his own, erection now doused and wet in a nest of dark curls -- for some reason that was where Wufei's scrutiny had ended up. Then the muscles rippled beneath the golden skin and Heero moved like a snake languidly coiling, down to-

Oh!

Now this...Wufei knew about this. Even his sheltered and disciplined education had not left him that ignorant. But he'd never in his wildest thoughts imagined anyone would ever be doing it to him!

He swallowed convulsively as he jerked his head back and away from the sight with reflex embarrassment. His eyes fastened on the wallpaper and picture, alien from their upside-down perspective, the curve of almond sprigs arching the wrong way and the painting a meaningless blob of muted colours. Warmth and wetness enveloped his erection and a tongue curved up and down the length, so much more agile and delicate than fingers, sending sympathetic shivers up and down the rest of him. He was quivering inside and out; he'd had just about enough of breaking new ground for one day! He wasn't sure he wanted to do this -- he whimpered, a barely noticed noise at the base of his throat - although -- the head of his erection touched smooth wet flesh -- it would take an all-out attack by Oz forces at this point -- a slight tug of suction dissolved his view of the wallpaper - to get him to stop Yuy from doing that, and he felt like he was going to die...

His body didn't last long, thoroughly swamped and excited by the tsunami of new sensations that had been crashing into him since his shower. He barely felt Heero remove himself and use his hand a few seconds before the rising feeling of tightening pressure in his groin submerged and dissolved him into a shiver of pleasure. He blinked several times -- he'd knotted his fingers in his hair, the other hand was gripping Heero's shoulder -- and his vision cleared, to find the same upside down view of wallpaper and picture, though why he expected to see anything different-...A feeling of cooling on his abdomen dragged him back to the rest of reality, which, he realized with resignation, was going to be wet and a bit sticky.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Heero glance around, eyes searching for something, completely unembarrassed -- was this something he'd done with his previous partner? Then with a mute shrug only Wufei would have noticed, the L1 pilot rolled up onto his knees and used a corner of the comforter to wipe himself and then Wufei off. The Chinese youth felt vaguely offended on the behalf of an unknown Italian grandmother but the thought slipped through his fingers. He suddenly realized that he was completely and utterly spent. Physically, mentally, emotionally. If it wasn't so complete it would be comforting. The storm of anger and adrenaline that normally drove him was only a vague smudge on the distant horizon. It would be back tomorrow but right now...Wufei felt his eyes close by themselves. It was the soldier in him that jerked them open again.

"Who takes first watch?" His eyes flickered to the comm. device laying on the tank top on the floor which -- he felt pretty sure - was linked to the alarms on Heero's laptop.

"I will." Heero's fingers idly traced a bruise the size of his hand on Wufei's thigh. The Chinese youth realized he was feeling so relaxed that even the pain had decided to slack off for a coffee break and a cigarette. He twitched away from the touch -- his skin still felt sensitive - and struggled to roll himself into the sheets beneath the white wool. Heero helped by sliding his weight off of them and standing up, reaching for his gun and his comm. device.

"Why?"

Wufei glanced up, over his shoulder as he lay curled on his side. A glance at Heero -- at his stance - explained the question. He wondered at it though.

"...I guess I was...curious. Besides...it felt right, with the shudo."

"The what?"

"The shudo." Wufei frowned. "Have you not heard of it?"

"I think...I think Dr J. used that word." Prickles ran up Wufei's spine as his mind shied away from some of the possible meanings of that comment. "It was when he...encouraged me to find a partner for my sexual urges." Heero added, to Wufei's relief. "What does it mean, Chang?"

"I'll let you do the research afterwards." Wufei answered loftily.

"What? Oh."

"I guess it's a good thing you did do some research." Wufei muttered, head sinking into a pillow that smelled faintly of dust and closed rooms. "I'm amazed you took time out of your mission preparations to do so though." He added, with a bit of a snap, Heero's original 'research' comment still nettling him. He didn't like to be caught out by the unexpected, to lose control over the situation, and that had been...he'd not been so much out of his depth since he'd last tried to understand Meiran. He felt like reacting the way he had then - anger, an old refuge - but the warrior with the dead soul spoke first. "I guess that's your usual thoroughness. It would be inefficient to risk an injury to an ally."

"...actually..."

Damn, there was that word again. Wufei pried his eyes open to stare at Heero who was leaning over him to rescue the open tube of cream on the bed.

"Actually what?"

"I thought there was a chance we might do this one day, I just assumed it would be the other way around."

Other way around what, Wufei thought dully then his mind exploded. He stared, flushing, at Heero who returned his gaze calmly, if somewhat quizzically.

"Wh-what? You thought- you'd let me-"

Heero shrugged. "It seemed logical. I had some previous sexual experience. Even if I never actually had penetrative sex before."

Wufei stared. It had never even occurred to him...

"Why are you surprised?" Heero's eyes narrowed, trying to understand. "Neither of us should have preconceptions as to roles."

"Well...I guess I did." Wufei found it strange to talk about this, and he was ready to bet it was a one-off thing. Heero was more than just curious about why this had happened though; he was gathering data and information to see what could be expected in the future. Things didn't just 'happen' in the soldier's world; they had to be understood and controlled. "Not that I'm...I mean, I didn't particularly want-..." Wufei gave himself a mental slap. "I was thinking in terms of shudo. The..."

Wufei hesitated, then sat up, the sheets sliding down his bare chest, to stare directly into the cobalt blue eyes analysing his words. This wasn't the virgin speaking. It was the warrior. The partner...

"In shudo, the more experienced warrior takes the active role." He knew his body language was telling Heero it wasn't sexual experience he was talking about. Heero's face and eyes didn't betray the slightest hint of feeling, but he put his hands on his hips -- completely oblivious to his nakedness - in a gesture that made Wufei think he was both challenging and accepting that, and maybe slightly surprised. The whole point about body language was that it wasn't words, a vocabulary, it was instinct, gut feeling, couldn't be fully explained. So Wufei answered it directly, chin lifting in challenge as his hands smoothed the sheet on his legs in admission.

"I can take you on bare-hand, Yuy, but in Wing, I have to admit you're unbeatable." He added vocally, to give his admission some more information. "You're unbeatable mentally too. You are a perfect soldier." His hand lifted slightly in apology at Heero's twitch, he knew that Yuy didn't like that term. "Your strength of mind, your dedication is-...I know you see this as mutual relief for a physical need, and it is mutual. But I also consider this a...contribution to something that I can strive for but may never quite achieve."

It was a distillation of the embarrassment and pain he'd gone through to admit this out loud, but it had to be said. Yuy would never accept a link between them if it wasn't fully understood and free of all possible hindrances. Wufei didn't add the fact that there was always the slight worry that Heero would jeopardize his drive by falling for someone-- Duo for example - with all the disastrous distractions and emotional entanglement that might imply. But his eyes instinctively shifted to the wall behind which the L2 pilot -- if Wufei's ancestors had any mercy on him at all - was sleeping deeply two rooms away. Heero seemed to be following his silent monologue at a gut level.

Wing's pilot nodded slowly, once. But his body was still challenging. He had no self-pride, beyond the almost physical necessity of being perfect and acing his missions; this probably didn't register on his radar.

Wufei shrugged. "Of course, now that that is established...maybe next time..."

The shoulders relaxed slightly. Heero actually shrugged. "I doubt we'll be taking it this far on a regular basis, we'll be too busy." But there was a slight wave of the hand that said clearly....maybe next time...

Wufei sank back into the sheets with a sigh. He felt drained, and also, now that he realized it, sticky and wet between his thighs and cheeks --ugh- and a bit sore as well. Not that much though, not as much as he'd feared. He'd have to remember what Yuy had done to him, however embarrassing, because he didn't want to injure the other pilot either if ever-...How on earth was he going to sleep after all that. He certainly felt tired but his skin and nerves were still murmuring, and his head was spinning with what Heero had said and implied. And besides...the door closed in a barely heard click...how often was this going to happen anyway...? And how about the blow job...was Heero going to expect that from him now? And what about...

[ Heero carefully opened the door again and glanced at the bed, where only a raven dark head was visible beneath the yellowy sheets. A soft wheeze told him the status of the bed's occupant. He ghosted along in perfect silence to pick up the clothes he'd completely forgotten about -- he already had the comm. and his gun. His eyes glanced over the prone figure. There was no tenderness in them, nor in the language of bone and muscle. No feelings whatsoever. There was only assessment, and behind it, a measure of acceptance. He leaned over and switched off the bedside lamp, then turned in silence and darkness to exit the room. ]

[chap. 6] [chap. 8] [back to Maldoror's fic]