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Author: Maldoror
Genre: Action, Drama, Humour (some)
Pairings: 1x5x1, others tba
Rated: NC17
Warnings: Violence, language, sex, adult situations
Spoilers: Yes, quite a lot for end of series (no EW though)
Feedback: Please! Particularly what you like/don't like about the fic.
Disclaimer:Gundam Wing belongs to its owners (Bandai, Sunset, and a whole
host of others, none of which are me) and I'm not making any money off
of them. Not a single peanut.
Huge thanks to Dawna, who beta-ed this latest offering of this monster-sized
fic in record time! Any remaining errors are due to my usual last-minute
bouts of doubts. Thanks to Sol for giving my bunnies a hearty shove in
the right direction, as well!
The
Arrangement
Epilogue, Part II
"The
roots of a tree that grew up in wind are strong"
Japanese proverb
---
Miranda's sales instincts were better honed than her mating ones, or her
thirst for petty revenge. They left the store in possession of a bed and
the required mattress, to be delivered in a couple of weeks, and some
sheets and blankets. Heero began to relax as soon as they got away from
the canned music and Miranda's artificial smile, though he didn't let
his guard down until they were safely back at the house and the security
was set.
"I think I'll go take a shower, then lie down for awhile," Wufei muttered,
caught in a yawn so large he nearly dropped the evening's take-out he
was carrying. "I'm still not one hundred percent, and I don't want Sally
to have any doubts about my health tomorrow, when I get that final certificate
off her."
"She won't," Heero assured him.
"I should bring you along, just in case she does; we can run our usual
circuit on the obstacle course to change her mind. Gerrie has some new
cadets over this week; we should probably go just to show them how it's
done." Wufei smiled like a tiger spotting a tethered lamb.
"Yes." He'd almost said 'if you want to', but he still wasn't sure about
using those potentially loaded words in a casual conversation.
"When she sees how badly I kick your ass in the training circle, Sally
will sign off on that field-readiness certificate right away," Wufei continued
smoothly, before opening the fridge.
"I'm sure Sally has no doubts about your physical form," Heero replied,
but didn't add anything about mental condition, which would be Po's main
worry.
Wufei fumbled the take-out as he was about to place it in the fridge,
and Heero tensed, wondering if the omission had been obvious. But his
partner put the dishes carefully away, and the little of his back and
shoulders that Heero could see were not tensing with anger. Good.
"So we'll be combat ready by this time tomorrow. Are there a lot of fires
brewing out there? I've been out of the loop." Wufei straightened and
closed the fridge, and he reached towards a few other odds and ends he'd
bought, without looking Heero's way.
"Not that I know of, but I've not been in touch with Sam for six days
either, bar my mission report." Heero shrugged. The blankets and sheets
he was holding crinkled against his chest in their plastic wraps. "I can
contact Une and find out."
"I'm sure they'll tell us. And do you think I'm ready to take on a mission
now? Won't let you down, will I?"
Heero checked his partner's stance apprehensively, but Wufei was leaning
back against the counter, apparently perfectly at ease. "Of course not.
I mean, of course you won't let me down, and I think you're ready." He
just hoped it wouldn't be a difficult mission to start with. He was fairly
certain their battlefield entente was intact; it was the first thing they'd
had between them, it was still one of the most important in both their
minds. Their lives and their mission depended on it. Heero didn't think
that could suffer. But he needed to be sure. Maybe running that obstacle
course tomorrow was a good idea-
Wufei was coming towards him, but his hands were in his pockets, his stance
non-aggressive, and he was frowning thoughtfully at the sheets and blankets
Heero was holding.
"I was going to put these away," Heero changed the subject with a glance
at the bundle in his arms. "Where should we-"
"Were you? Allow me." Wufei reached for the sheets and blankets, and Heero
handed them to him automatically.
Wufei carefully gathered the packets in his arms and then tossed them
over his shoulder. Heero stiffened as if the tumbled linen were live grenades,
and stared wildly at his partner. Wufei still looked quite calm. He'd
put his hands back in his pocket and he was now staring at Heero, up close.
"Spill, Heero. What's wrong?"
Wrong?! Heero batted down a flash of alarm. He thought he'd been doing
okay!
"Wh-what?"
Wufei sighed. "Talk to me, will you?"
Talk? Heero felt his body freeze into an unreadable chunk to avoid expressing
a sudden flinch of pain. Talking as he had a few hours ago, when Wufei
had come back, had been pretty unique. And pretty fucking horrible. That
instant of unveiling what lay beneath his own so-far unquestioned feelings,
and laying it bare for judgment, both by Wufei and, in a way, by himself...wondering
if he'd just terminated, with his own words, the partnership that had
been such an integral part of his life for the last year...proved himself
to be fundamentally unable to give enough to another human being to keep
him...Heero thought he'd rather lose three square inches of skin rather
than go through that again. But if Wufei needed to hear something...
"Talk about what?" He tried to keep the reluctance from his voice.
"Why have you been walking around me all morning like you're navigating
a minefield?" Wufei's voice was still so calm. In fact, he sounded a bit...Heero
didn't want to read the unusual slump in his partner's shoulders; he was
afraid it was disappointment.
"Look." One of Wufei's hands left his pocket to rub at the bridge of his
nose. "I know I've been about as pleasant to live with these past few
months as a wounded bear. Is that why you're tiptoeing around me? You
just want to avoid another explosion?"
"No," Heero answered honestly. At this point, he'd almost prefer a storm;
he wasn't sure what this preternatural calm was leading to.
"No?" Wufei looked perplexed. "Because I'd understand that. I must have
been impossible to live with since I got hit by that car. I'm surprised
you put up with it."
"I don't mind," Heero affirmed quickly, because putting up with Wufei,
even in a bad mood, was the opposite of what he was worrying about-
"You don't?" Wufei's mouth curled up a bit in the corners. "Amazing. I
live with a guy for over a year, and I only figure out now that he's a
masochist."
The remark startled him. "Masochist? I don't think so. I mean, I don't
mind pain, I was trained to withstand it, but I'd still rather avoid anything
extreme, and I certainly don't get off on it."
He knew, as soon as he saw the eyes widen and the dark pupils dilate,
that he'd said something he shouldn't have, though he didn't know what.
He forced himself not to flinch as Wufei pulled his hands from his pockets
and reached for him. He wasn't sure what to expect, though at this point
he was prepared for anything.
The hands didn't grab him, didn't strike or grasp his collar or shake
him. One landed on his shoulder, the other brushed the hair out of his
eyes, almost hesitantly. The new and completely unexpected gesture made
him tense, despite his resolve not to react.
"Right," Wufei said quietly, eyes fixed on Heero's so that the latter
was unable to look away. "When you start getting hyper-literal, that's
when I know there's something very wrong. And I'd rather you tell me than
having you try to 'fix it' again." Heero winced. "Yeah, remember that?
Okay, so come on. Tell me."
Heero stayed silent and frozen in indecision. Each word he could think
of was a potential deathtrap.
Wufei muttered something; it sounded like Cantonese and it sounded rather
rude. He looked like he was trying very hard to keep the calm he had wrapped
himself in. The hands on Heero's shoulder gave him a minute shake. "Look,
Yuy, spit it out already! What's the worse I could do?"
"Leave."
Heero's muscles tightened in reproof, his jaw clenching around the word
he shouldn't have let slip.
"Leave?" Wufei was not controlling himself at all; he was letting his
emotions freely cross his face, his body, his eyes. That voluntary openness,
and the trust it implied, which Heero knew were just as difficult for
his partner as they were for himself, shamed him, but he didn't know if
he dared to reciprocate, let his own feelings show.
Wufei looked worried now. "It can't be that bad- why on earth do you think
I'll-"
"You did before," Heero muttered in defeat.
The hands flinched and dropped from his shoulders as Wufei crossed his
arms over his chest. Heero looked away from the flash of pain that went
through his friend's eyes and stance.
"Okay," Wufei muttered, turning away. "I guess I deserved that."
"It's not an accusation," Heero's usual monotone sounded completely uncaring
even to his own ears; he glared at the fallen sheets a few feet away.
He could hear the squeak of the spring-board floor as Wufei stepped onto
the tatami and walked away. "As you said, we both screwed up the other
day, we both- I didn't want to bring it back up, but every time I start
to say something, I'm afraid- I'm used to your temper. It's part of you."
That was probably insulting right there, but it was true. Wufei's burning
intensity sometimes singed the people he let close to him, and Heero accepted
this, like Wufei accepted Heero's distance, his occasional bouts of day-long
silences, his killer instincts, his cold dedication to the mission.
"I just...I don't know how this is supposed to work. I still don't know
how you expect me to act," Heero muttered into the silence.
"You could ask," Wufei said without looking around, in a voice that was
clearly striving for calm and to keep the word 'moron' from the end of
the sentence.
Ask? A novel concept. "You mean you'd tell me? You wouldn't misinterpret
the question and get all defensive and-" fuck, stop talking! Heero struggled
to regain the safe distance between them and realized he wasn't sure where
the boundaries were any more.
Wufei had the grace not to challenge that, or even dodge it. Heero felt
no vindication in the sudden slump in his partner's shoulders; it only
made him feel worse. Trapped.
"I can try-...I just want you to be yourself, Yuy. To want something from
me, and ask for it. How hard is that?" He sounded defeated too, though.
"Be myself?" Heero wanted to snort at the irony, but his control was too
tight. "When I tried to fix things before - that was me being myself.
That was a logical course of action to me. At the time." He was forcing
the words out against considerable resistance; they were short and hard,
he couldn't match Wufei's quiet tone, even though he wanted to. "If I
had to do the same thing again, if I am in the same position again, I
can't say for certain I won't make the same mistake. I know now why it
wasn't right; but that's because you shouted it at me before you left.
It took me awhile to figure it out even then. And now, I don't know how
I'll react to other new situations. I can ask, but we both hate to talk,
to- and anyway, the questions themselves are...are probably something
you expect me to know already. They're already a failure. I-...talking,
asking, it isn't easy." Not when you were afraid that each word, each
question, might hurt the other, might be that one mistake that would finally
doom their partnership for good. Silence was just safer. Always had been.
"...makes sense..."
Heero glanced obliquely at his partner. Wufei had his back to him; he
was standing in front of the sword rack, one hand back in his pocket,
the other tracing the edge of his sword's hilt. He still didn't look angry.
Heero wondered if he dare relax.
"Might as well get one thing clear. If you screw up that badly again,
I'll probably leave."
So much for relaxing. The analytical part of Heero informed him that the
cold shock of those words had felt remarkably like getting shot, without
the actual concussive impact of a bullet penetrating flesh.
"As you so aptly pointed out, Yuy, I have a temper; it's part of me."
I knew that would insult him, Heero thought in angry self-recrimination.
"And it's more than that. I-...have a hard time dealing with my own feelings
sometimes. I'm sure you sympathize with that. I sometimes need to get
away from a situation. Step back, think about it, figure out exactly why
I'm angry, because I can fool myself pretty well when I'm the one at the
centre of the problem." Wufei's voice sounded raw. Heero guessed, from
the way the strong back muscles were knotting, just what it cost him to
admit this.
"So yeah, if you really fuck up, I might leave."
Wufei's fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword.
"I'll come back though. I swear it. On my honor."
He came back yesterday, too, Heero suddenly remembered. It wasn't that
he'd forgotten, but he'd made so many plans to go find his partner and
try to figure out what he could do, that he'd not actually stopped to
contemplate the significance of the fact that Wufei had returned less
than twenty four hours after that ugly episode in his room.
"I'm not saying this can work out between us," Wufei was speaking clearly,
slowly, and deliberately. But he didn't sound removed from his own words.
He was keeping no defenses against them and their consequences whatsoever.
"We both have a lot of scars. A lot of things holding us back. You're
not the only one who can fuck this up, Heero. I might be the one person
in the universe who is as leery of his own emotions as you are. Which
is not a promising fact. When they say couples should share common interests,
I don't think they had mayhem and emotional repression in mind." Heero
could feel the smile in his partner's voice, though the humor was subdued.
"But I won't leave - for real - just because I get mad. I...I would rather
you ask the questions and make the mistakes, even if I blow out of here,
then come back with my tail between my legs twenty four hours later. We're
not at war anymore. When we're not on a mission, we're allowed to make
mistakes. Both of us. I shouldn't have walked out like that yesterday;
I can't promise I won't do it again, though. But once I've cooled off,
I'll be back, and we can try to sort it out. You don't have to be worried
about screwing up."
"...when I make mistakes, people die..." The words were reluctant, dredged
up over the years yet still aching and bloody.
"Get a grip, Yuy," Wufei turned around brusquely and gave him a glare
which Heero judged was far from serious. "I told you, we're not at war
anymore. And you've already fucked up a few times and I'm still breathing!
I'm not going to curl up and die just because you behave like a moron."
"No, you'll just run away," Heero muttered before he could stop himself.
He glanced up worriedly at Wufei, whose eyebrows were making a spirited
effort to reach his hairline, despite the difficulty that would represent.
"I do not run away, Yuy! I choose to remove myself from the situation
and go and meditate," Wufei sniffed.
The tone was familiar; like the ugly, practical room around them, the
dojo where they sparred like fiends, the guns locker that held the tools
of their trade. It freed something in Heero. He inhaled slowly. It felt
like an iron band had just loosened around his chest. "If you say so,
Chang," he murmured. It came out more shaken than sarcastic, but it was
a good effort.
"Anyway, I came back. And I probably won't be quite so quick to leave
next time. I can weather your screw-ups, Yuy. I'm tougher than you are,
apparently. Hah, I'm tougher than old oak. Which is a good thing because
if your bone-headed mistakes can't kill me, they are sufficiently big
and weird to at least inflict flesh wounds, if I wasn't so strong," Wufei
continued, nodding judiciously.
"I'm not that bad," Heero growled, a strange smile trying to ruin his
glare. Why was he so glad to have just been insulted in about three different
ways? "I already said I was sorry for trying to spy on you in your sleep,
and not talking things over from the start, but apart from that, what
did I do that was so-"
"Checking up on me ten times a day? Calling me on the phone like some
kid you left without a nanny? Telling me exactly where you were in the
house like I was going to have a panic attack if I went to your room and
didn't find you there?"
Heero winced. "I thought it might help you to feel a bit more...secure."
The strategy had been to make Wufei feel 'cared for', actually, but that
sounded even weirder.
"It only made me feel paranoid! That and the change of the gun locker
code. Though I'll grant you that last one, I'd have done the same in your
shoes" Wufei admitted in a nearly inaudible grumble
"Wufei..." the words were a bit easier now, and the first name had come
off his tongue without any forethought. "For my own information, just
how much - or how little - does it take to make you paranoid?"
Black eyes narrowed. "It's a survival instinct for the kind of life we
lead; and someone who sleeps with a gun beneath his pillow and sensors
all around the house has no room to throw stones."
Heero snorted; he knew that their home was the only place Wufei slept
soundly, same as Heero, and that was because of those very same sensors
and security measures. He went to pick up the sheets and blankets that
had fallen a few feet away. His arms were still stiff with residual tension.
The rhythm of their banter was familiar, but he could feel them both skirting
subjects that were a bit too new, too raw, to bring to light in any context.
But they'd get used to it. It still felt like walking through a minefield,
but it wasn't. A mistake wasn't fatal here; he'd have time to get familiar
with these new parameters of their partnership.
"So you promise to come back, and be patient with any questions or mistakes
on my part," he concluded as he picked up the last packet, and turned
towards the stairs. "And in return, I'll put up with the worst temper
in Brussels."
"I do not have the worst temper in Brussels," Wufei countered with some
dignity as he crossed the dojo behind Heero.
"You all but admitted it yourself," Heero pointed out logically, glancing
back. "Not that I mind."
Wufei had his mouth open to shoot something back, but he paused, blinking
in surprise.
Heero shrugged. "It makes life interesting." All of it. It all made his
life interesting. "It certainly keeps me from getting rusty."
"I'll keep you from getting rusty," Wufei grumbled behind him as they
made their way to the upper floor. "Your ass and that dojo floor have
an appointment this afternoon."
"If someone does have a worst temper in this city, please point them out
to me; I need to have them arrested and deported somewhere. Antarctica
should be far enough."
"You should know." Wufei went to lean against the bathroom door and crossed
his arms. "You never did say in any detail...how did the mission go? With
Armand?"
Heero shrugged, his hand on their bedroom's doorknob. The mission was
finished. He saw no reason to bring it up. Unless Wufei wanted an assessment
of Armand's performance, in case they had to work with the man in the
future? "It was alright. No heavy resistance. But being with Armand made
it harder. He's a good man, but in the end I had to leave him in a defensive
position and do most of the work myself. He..." Heero tried to express
just what had been lacking. "He wanted to know what I was going to do."
"That seems like a reasonable thing to ask," Wufei hazarded, looking a
bit perplexed.
"You don't ask," Heero pointed out.
There was a moment of silence, and a flash of an unusual emotion in black
eyes. Heero didn't know what it was, entirely - Pride? Pleasure? - but
he thought he wouldn't mind seeing it again.
"It's not hard to figure out what you'll do, Yuy," Wufei sniffed. "I look
at a situation, decide what the most dangerous course of action would
be, the place where a quick, brutal strike will do the most damage, and
there you are."
"And you're right behind me," Heero retorted.
Their eyes met for a second before they both looked away. Heero upgraded
their battle readiness in his head. Let Une throw a tough mission their
way. And then she could just step back and wait for the fireworks.
"True. I should have Sally examine my head tomorrow." Wufei shook the
mentioned body part with a show of resignation. "Right. I need to shower
and lie down."
Heero nodded as he shifted his grip on the sheets and swung the door open.
"Coming?"
"What?" Heero glanced back, to see the bathroom door close. He thought
he heard a quiet, amused snort. Coming? Wufei was just going to-
The bathroom door was open, just a crack.
Heero hesitated for a split second - how long would it take to just go
and put the sheets away properly first? Too long, his instincts told him.
Wufei had never extended that sort of invitation before.
Who cared about sheets anyway, Heero thought, though he still stacked
them carefully in the hallway before going to investigate the slightly
open door.
---
The shower was interesting. Heero, in the beleaguered parts of his mind
that could still think and plan, felt hopeful that this meant that extended
foreplay was going to be a regular habit from now on. He'd rather liked
that. He still had a few scratch marks on his back that demonstrated that
Wufei had liked it too; but considering how the whole episode had ended,
Heero hadn't been sure they wouldn't be going back to 'quick and efficient'
again. From the amount of water on the floor, which he forced himself
to ignore, and the fact he was now clean in places which rarely saw that
amount of extended attention and application of soap, he was a bit reassured
on the subject.
They were still a bit damp when they tumbled onto the joined mattresses.
They'd been a bit distracted while toweling off. Wufei grumbled against
the skin of Heero's shoulder and shoved away the sleeping bags beneath
them. The zippers had been a bit uncomfortable, though Heero only became
aware of it after Wufei's hand had left his erection to move the offending
blanket.
The skin beneath his fingers was alternatively sliding then sticking as
it dried. It was familiar, smoother than his own, only a few scars to
map with his palms. Wufei arched, panting, as Heero caressed a particularly
sensitive one, on the back of one thigh. Then a mouth found his again.
This wasn't particularly erotic for him. Any more than the closed-mouth
kiss they'd shared that first time, in that old shed, after their first
sparring match. He'd only crushed his mouth to Wufei's then because his
first partner - a young soldier whose real name he didn't even know -
had done so the first time they'd jerked each other off. Heero had thought
it a handy signal - 'we're going to have sex now' - and nothing more.
Chang Wufei. Gundam Pilot 05. A soldier, an ally...maybe. A convenient
fuck. An intriguing bundle of contradictory and repressed emotions. A
surprisingly efficient killer, nonetheless. A good sword to have at his
back. Someone to clash with, who would disagree but at least understand
the arguments. A partner. A friend...words had given out at some point.
Logic stopped working. He still couldn't understand why people thought
kissing was arousing. But Wufei obviously did, and Heero found this fascinating;
his hand would find its own way to the crook of Wufei's neck, feeling
the pulse hammer against his palm. Each caress of his tongue would change
that pulse, or the way his usually unperturbed and controlled partner
moved against him; it would make Wufei arch, or shiver, or moan very,
very low. Heero felt each reaction with his fingers, his skin, his lips
and tongue, in his guts and in his groin. He felt no need to analyze it
any further.
Heero's free hand inched its way down, over a proud, stiff back, a very
hard ass, to muscled thighs and legs. He'd never had a woman, but it surely
couldn't compare. After having so much power and lethal grace at your
fingertips, it would be rather bland to handle soft flesh and worry about
hurting the other. Like trying to work that damn Leo after controlling
Wing. Heero smirked fiercely in the kiss and squeezed the thigh beneath
his grasp, feeling muscles coil and harden in a response that sent arousal
clawing through his mind and body. He arched into a downward thrust; Wufei
tore his mouth away to gasp and go rigid for an instant.
Licking his lips where humidity and a familiar taste lingered, Heero reached
over to the bedside table. Wufei was lapping at his neck, his chest. Heero
opened the drawer and confidently picked out the lube by feel. Then he
fumbled it when a tongue teased his nipple at the same time as clever
fingers decided to check out his erection again. Heero managed to restart
his breathing on the second try, and fished around for the fallen tube.
He knew - he just knew - that there was a smirk hovering somewhere around
his chest right now. With the slow, pleasurable pull of fingers wrapped
around his cock, Heero couldn't generate enough competitiveness to mind.
He wasn't particularly surprised when a hand flicked imperiously before
his face. He set the tube in the demanding palm with resigned anticipation,
if that was possible, and relaxed.
Fingers slowly stretched him, rubbing gently at the muscles, the flesh
within, the- Heero blinked and tilted his hips up, legs shoving against
the mattress, trying to give Wufei a better angle to that particular area.
He closed his eyes against the brilliant flashes, and the dark pleasure
of muscles stretching. The harsh panting, his own and his partner's, grew
louder in the darkness, covering the sound of skin sliding on skin. The
feel of fingers on his cock, others fucking him gently...the sensations
fought over his attention. Couldn't decide...which was...the most interesting...
Okay, ready now. He squirmed away from the fingers. The hand left his
cock and trailed up his chest sensuously to flick the bangs from his eyes.
He opened them. Wufei was flushed, a stain of color on the gold of his
skin. Heero reached up and gathered damp black strands of hair that fell
into the face above his own, slipping them behind Wufei's ear. A slight
smile in return. That smile was like the kissing. He couldn't explain
why it mattered, but it did. Not as much as a successful mission or running
out of ammo in a firefight, but it mattered.
Then his partner was gone. Heero could feel his movements through the
mattress. Muttered words; apparently the tube of lube was getting its
ancestors soundly cursed for hiding at this particular moment. Heero closed
his eyes. He should look for it, too. But he'd be disturbing the pleasure
leisurely slinking through his muscles like cats, the sensual way his
back sunk into the mattress, Wufei's fingers wrapped around his ankle
even as his partner hunted for the tube with his other hand. No. Wufei
could look for the lube by himself.
A plastic sound heralded the return of the tube. Heero felt the excitement
curl in his chest, and tighten the skin around his balls. After a few
seconds, hands pressed his legs up, almost against his chest, and caressed
his ass. Something blunt touched his skin, leaving a thin trail of lube
behind it.
"...Heero?"
His eyes shot open. "Huh?"
A low whisper: "What do you want...?"
Heero twisted around to stare at his partner, but Wufei was nipping his
jaw, dropping those words into his ear, breathlessly. Heero shifted against
the bed.
"What?"
"Tell me what you want..."
Heero stared at what he could see of his partner, a few strands of black
hair falling over cheekbone. He wanted to have sex. That had to be rather
obvious. "...what...? This position is fine." Wufei's words had been low,
with a slight echo of hesitation behind them- another explanation surfaced.
"You're not having a black-out or something, are you?"
He twisted away to get a better look at Wufei, his mind suddenly coming
back down to earth with a thump. He quickly checked his partner visually.
The black eyes were very wide, but focused and showed no sign of disorientation.
Surely Wufei wasn't so tired he was having a relapse! How much sleep had
he gotten since- what was Sally's emergency number again-
It was the way Wufei's mouth was twitching that made Heero reassess the
situation. He must have missed something-
A hand around his neck dragged him into a fierce kiss, and then a savage
twist rolled them both until Heero was struggling to get his hands and
knees beneath him to get his full weight off his partner. Wufei bucked,
his erection hard against Heero's ass, banishing all irrelevant questions.
Heero's heart started to pound. He shifted, reached for the hardness beneath
him, jabbing at his skin. He positioned it and then lowered himself on
it in one savage motion. Wufei groan and shudder. Heero hissed; nibbles
of pain played at the edge of pleasure. Highlighting it. Darkness to make
the light shine brighter. Heero reached for that again. And again. His
heart thundered. Wufei's fingers were on his hip now, pulling him down.
Heero threw back his head, gasping. A hand - light fingers, sensual -
a contrast to the hard thrusts - caressed his throat, lingered on his
chest. Heero reached for more. Wufei groaned and the clench of his other
fingers on Heero's hip was frantic.
Heero let go of parts of himself, one by one, shaken loose by the punishing
rhythm. No control. Just pleasure. He clenched the muscles around the
hardness he was riding, and Wufei shouted, arching up into the thrusts.
Heero wanted more of that. He wanted to see the pleasure scrawled across
his lover's body. He wanted to drag it out, taste it on copper-colored
skin, feel it in the way Wufei's fingers tightened on his thighs, pulling
him down. In the throbbing, pulsing heat within him.
Wufei thrust up to meet his savage downward movements with a shout. Heero
stilled and fought for breath, feeling the body beneath his clench and
tremble, surrendering. He ignored the heat of his own unsatisfied cock.
He leaned forward and licked at the corner of Wufei's throat. He tasted
sweat and a delicious shiver as sensitive skin was teased just a bit more.
Heero pulled away, ignoring the odd sensation of Wufei's erection slipping
from him, the trickle of tepid liquid down his legs. He curled up against
his partner, and allowed his hand to trail down a hard chest, abs - a
slight shudder in the relaxed frame followed his fingers. Wufei sighed
and rolled over, shoving Heero onto his back. Heero let the triumphant
smirk loose. Black eyes caught it with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.
And a dark promise of their own. Heero shivered as a long-fingered hand
brushed over his lips, then tickled the skin down his chest heading south.
The hand traced the skin of his abs. Heero didn't particularly need any
more arousing, but he was back in control of himself now, the mental readjustment
automatic. He could wait for his partner's pleasure. It would ultimately
be his; Wufei's hands had become quite skilled this past year.
The mattress shifted beneath him as Wufei leaned back, and then slid down,
towards-
Heero stiffened and quickly grasped his partner's shoulder. "Wait- what-"
Black eyes met his. "Hmm?"
Heero didn't need to ask what Wufei thought he was doing. His head was
near Heero's cock - which didn't feel like complaining, but then it didn't
get a vote. Heero ignored the way the dark hair spilled against the curve
of his hip and stomach, a sensuous ripple against his skin.
"You don't have to do that." His voice was stiff, harsh.
"You're right, I don't have to." An eyebrow arched reprovingly, correcting
his obviously stupid assumption that Chang Wufei could be compelled to
do anything he didn't want.
"I know you don't like to-"
"How would I know if I don't like to, I've never tried it before," Wufei
interrupted, in a reasonable voice. Heero was about to protest but then
a tongue darted out, up his cock, and he forgot what he was about to say.
Was he about to say anything? Why?
Oh, right.
"Chang-"
The tongue did its damage again. Heero managed to keep a thread of continuous
thought alive though.
"You- don't have to-"
"We already established that." Warm breath against the two wet trails
over his cock was sheer torture.
"I meant-"
A third trail of tongue - surely Wufei knew the mechanics of going down
on someone, right? Heero had done it to him occasionally - Wufei had never
reciprocated, but Heero had never pushed - never even thought of pushing
-
"If you don't want to, hands are fine," Heero choked out, somehow. "You
never- before-"
"I think it's a hang-up left over from my upbringing." The words tickled
his cock so badly that Heero took a few seconds to figure out their meaning.
"Something a man doesn't do."
"Then why-" Heero tried to keep the groan out of his voice.
"But then again, by those same sets of values, I'm not supposed to let
you fuck me regularly, and we certainly don't have any problem with that."
The tongue darted out as a counterpoint to the argument. Heero managed
to swallow. Barely.
"While according to the shudo, the rules governing the relations between
two samurai, it really shouldn't matter, and there's nothing-"
Wufei's mouth covered the tip of Heero's erection, his tongue found the
slit. Just a touch, to start with, but when Heero practically convulsed
with the sensation and groaned, the tongue gained confidence and teased
with a few flicks. Then it stopped, just as Heero was remembering that
breathing was important.
"-there's nothing, I was saying, that we shouldn't do equally, unless
I am the superior in our association. Do you consider yourself inferior
to me? In any way? Just so I know?"
Heero stared at the ceiling, every nerve in his body thrumming. What the
fuck was his partner talking about...? After a few stunned seconds, he
managed to prop himself up on his elbows and stare. Wufei was looking
back up at him languidly, curled up against his legs like a golden lion,
black mane sleek and falling onto Heero's aching skin. His mouth was near
Heero's cock. That...captured most of Heero's attention...he struggled
to understand-
"Did you know that in certain cultures, the seed of a powerful man is
supposed to transfer some of his vitality to-"
"Are you teasing me?!"
Almond eyes blinked slowly. "Me?" Wufei asked, voice innocent. Then his
eyes scrunched up a bit. "Hmm, that's a glare I've not seen before. Number
twenty two if my count is right; I think I'll categorize it as 'sexually
frustrated and about to reach for the gun under his pillow'."
"What?! What the hell are you- uhn...."
Heero's head thumped back against the mattress as every muscle in his
shoulders, arms and neck turned to mush. Wufei's lips and tongue were-...ohhhhh...Heero
made sure, in the part of himself that was dedicated to control, that
he didn't obey his instincts by thrusting up wildly into the mouth slowly
taking him in. Didn't want to choke Wufei. That could be unpleasant for
his partner, on his first time, it could be off-putting, and Heero really...
...really...
...really wanted this to happen again...at some point...uhn...in his life...
His heart was thumping wildly in his chest, his breath thundering in his
lungs, drowning him-
Suction around his cock, unique feeling, like nothing else...hadn't had
a blow job for-...ages-...heat, and- and tongue, mouth, lips, an edge
of fingers, all swirling and tingling-
The squirming, throbbing pulse in his chest spiraled down, setting his
insides on fire, and erupted from his cock-
Heero panted, eyes shut. Thoughts and feelings crept back, as if blown
away by the surge of pleasure and now cautiously returning. He realized
- after a few seconds - that he'd forgotten to warn Wufei that he was
about to come. But his partner had no problems reading him. The last thing
Heero could remember was the mouth leaving him and the firm tug of fingers-...Heero
shivered and started to regulate his breathing a bit.
"You scowl when you come, too," a voice informed him, somewhere nearer
his ear this time.
Heero's brow scrunched up even further. He cracked his eyes open-
He'd been about to inquire if they were going to always talk this much
during sex from now on, but he caught the tail end of an expression just
before it disappeared behind the arrogant smirk. It was...Heero wasn't
good at analyzing these things, but that didn't mean he didn't understand
them at gut level. That darting, vulnerable look required him to be careful
about what he said at this point, he knew that much.
"...that was good," he said instead, wondering if Wufei needed to be reassured
on that point - and anything that might ensure that this happened again
needed to be said. And repeated if need be.
"So I gathered..." Wufei was caressing his lower lip with his thumb, a
gesture that looked introspective. Heero stared at it and found himself
wishing life were simpler again, and then immediately concluding that,
no, he didn't, not really.
Wufei shook himself minutely, rolled over and reached towards the bedside
table, with its convenient cupboard beneath the small drawer. He fished
out one of the small towels they kept there, and rolled back again. Heero
stirred, to take it from him, but Wufei didn't even glance at him, and
started to pass the cloth over Heero's abs instead, wiping carefully.
Heero felt the skin on his abdomen shiver as the traces of humidity left
cooled. They'd done this before - very rarely, and only when the other
was nearer the towels, at least it was understood that that was the only
reason, even though it sometimes trembled on the edge of something else.
Heero tried to pin down what was different this time. A bit less brusque?
A bit more a caress than a rough wipe? Or was it just in his head?
The towel was carelessly tossed over a shoulder, and Heero scowled at
it as it lay, crumpled and soiled, on the floor.
"Do you do that because you're too lazy to put it in the laundry basket,
or because you know it annoys me?" he growled.
"Bit of both," Wufei admitted languorously, rearranging blankets and pillows
and stretching against Heero's side. "What's this afternoon's plan? Do
we have anything else we can do, house-wise, while we have this...day
off?" Wufei was still speaking as if the concept was a strange, foreign
object he was trying to dismantle for further analysis.
"We could call in the cleaners," Heero suggested, speaking softly - Wufei
was curled up against his chest, a shoulder and an arm thrown across it
while black hair fell over Heero's own shoulder; he didn't want to dislodge
his partner by breathing too hard or talking too loudly. He knew they
were both trying to pretend this was perfectly normal, that they were
used to touching each other like this for awhile after sex, as if the
steel barriers that had been around their arrangement for over two years
had never existed. Heero wondered if Wufei was having any more success
than he was. It felt...weird. Not quite right. Not entirely wrong either.
And it didn't feel like such a big deal, when he thought about it, and
maybe that was what was troubling him.
"I need to do some work for Sam; he needs more details on the Antarctica
base. Plans, layout, estimation of the tensile strength of any remaining
underground bunkers..." he was listing things automatically, starting
to write the report verbally. He detailed it aloud, concentrating on the
familiar. But in the back of his mind...
"-I need to call Armand; there were a couple of spots he checked out by
himself. I need to make sure there were no changes to the infrastructure
on that side - I hoped he noted them if there were. Yes. I'm sure Armand
would know to- he used to be a soldier though, a commando. Not an investigator,
or a demolition expert either. I don't know if he- " damn, he hoped he
didn't have to go back to Antarctica to check. "If I go back, do you want
to come with me? It won't be very interesting; the forces should have
cleaned out the place. Now we just have to demolish it, get rid of it
once and for all. You could stay here and rest."
"Huh," Wufei huffed. He inched away and turned to lie on his stomach;
he did leave an arm draped over Heero's chest though. The mutter had almost
been a growl. Yeah, okay, that question didn't deserve an answer; Wufei
had made it quite clear what being left behind had felt like.
"I'll check with Armand, and write that report." Sam wanted it by this
evening; he'd not taken the notion of Heero having a day off any more
seriously than the existence of dragons. "If Armand's report is inconclusive,
there might be a flight tomorrow afternoon. I'll check. Cha- Wufei...why
is physical contact something that's...something important?"
The question had been bubbling beneath the surface, in the tiny area that
Heero no longer tried to control quite so thoroughly.
"We have sex together, we live in the same house - same room now." That
was different. And somehow significant. "I just don't know why it makes
a difference?"
He hadn't wanted to ask the question. That very reluctance had prompted
him to do so anyway. He wanted to avoid it because he thought Wufei might
misinterpret it as doubt about their new arrangement - was it new? It
didn't feel all that different. Not asking the question would have been
safer. But Wufei had said they were allowed to make mistakes now, say
stuff like this, hurt each other accidentally and get over it. A part
of Heero still didn't quite believe that. Perversely, it wanted to test
the truth of it.
Wufei said nothing. Heero couldn't see his expression, with his partner's
face turned away. He tried to read the tension in the arm across his chest,
and wondered what the silence meant.
"Why this?" He meant to poke the golden skin contrasting with his own,
paler, scar-ridden one, and found himself caressing the arm with his thumb
instead, a tiny, tentative gesture. "What does physical contact at the
end of sex bring? I'm not saying I don't like it. But it doesn't change
anything." Did it? Had anything changed at all, in fact? They'd agreed
to give each other some leeway. But wasn't that something that friends
did anyway? They'd decided to try to be a bit more open about their feelings,
but Heero, assessing himself and Wufei with his usual brutal honestly,
was ready to bet that would happen just about as often as Une insisting
they take a holiday to go out and have fun.
"We're still the same people. We still fight. We will until one of us
dies." He didn't know what would happen to the survivor. That would depend
on who it was. He...would rather it not be him. He wasn't sure he was
up to the choices that would imply. Wufei was probably better equipped
for that.
"I'd still die for the mission. If there was no other choice. Though I'm
not suicidal any more." The skin beneath his thumb felt smooth, warm,
alive. "And if I have to, I will leave you to die, or trust you to do
something dangerous that will ensure we succeed even if one or both of
us won't make it. You know that." Fortunately there was no question of
that in Heero's mind. It wasn't a hindrance to their arrangement. It was
an integral part of it.
"It just feels like something should be different. More different. And
something does feel different. I just can't figure out what. Introspection
has never been something I bother with. Without Zero," he added with a
small flinch. Wufei's arm tightened around his chest, comforting. Why
was it comforting? No idea. Heero had never been taught to think of that
as comfort. Had never had someone do this to him before. Why was it making
him feel better? Just from pressure across his rib cage? The warmth of
a body nearby?
"I don't know," Heero concluded. "What do you think?" This was Wufei's
thing. He was the one who actually thought about this stuff.
No answer.
"Wufei?" Heero twisted to get a better look at his partner, see if he
was angry, or hurt, or just thoughtful. The arm around his ribcage tightened,
and Wufei rolled a bit after a few seconds, turning his face on the pillow
again so that Heero could see the closed eyes and relaxed features.
"Just how long have you been asleep?" Heero whispered, rhetorically. "And
how do you manage to drop off while I'm actually touching you? And
talking..."
The arm slipped from his chest and curled up, hand fisting near Wufei's
chin. "...m'awake.........j's restin...m'eyes..."
"Right." Heero very gently lifted Wufei's arm and placed it over his chest
again. The eyelids fluttered but didn't actually open, and Wufei snored
a couple of times before sniffing once and burying his face further into
the pillow, hair falling gently forward, exposing his cheekbone.
"...j's...restin..." The fists slowly uncurled and relaxed, opening fully.
"I know," Heero whispered. He closed his eyes and started composing his
report to Sam while listening to his partner's gentle breathing next to
his ear.
OWARI
[epilogue, part i] [back
to Maldoror's fic]
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