I reached and carefully began
to undo the buttons on his shirt. Watching my fingers work. His hands
came to rest on my hips, just settling there. He didn’t speak, watching
my face while I worked his shirt open. I had to tug it free from his jeans
to get at the last couple of buttons. I could hear his breath quickening
as I finally freed that last button. Then I carefully dipped my hands
inside the open shirt and lay them on his chest, palms gently resting
against his skin. His breathing actually hitched, and his hands on my
hips tightened reflexively. I couldn’t look up at his face, keeping my
eyes on the place where I was touching him. Carefully watching my hands
as I slowly slid them apart, pushing the shirt further open, pushing it
off his shoulders. It fell to the floor, forgotten. Cautiously, I let
my hands run down his biceps, following the path the shirt had taken.
He had dropped his hands from me to let the cloth fall away, but he returned
them to my waist, his thumbs finding the concave of my hips and brushing
lightly over my skin. I didn’t dare let it distract me as my own hands
left his arms to trace across his stomach, to sweep up his chest again.
He uttered a tiny little cry that might have been my name. Eyes and attention
focused completely on my fingers, I dared stroke across one of his nipples,
I watched it tighten, I heard him gasp. I found my lower lip caught between
my teeth as I carefully brushed across him. I was vaguely aware that his
own hands were moving, was vaguely aware that he was making sounds...
small little sighs. I bit at my lip, forcing my attention where it had
But suddenly, my hands were caught and held, and Heero was bringing them
to his lips, kissing my fingers, kissing my palms with an almost feverish
‘Stop, love,’ he whispered and I froze, horrified that I’d hurt him despite
‘Heero?’ I breathed, unsure of my ground. He looked... intoxicated. He
looked... damned aroused. Why was he asking me to stop?
He pulled me into his arms, bringing our bodies together and kissing that
place just behind my jaw that makes me shiver. ‘You aren’t even aware
of my touches, love,’ he said then; voice a husky sigh in my ear. ‘I don’t
want you like this. I want you to feel what I’m doing to you.’
I couldn’t help a sigh. Couldn’t help how my arms went around his neck.
‘I’m sorry,’ I told him, feeling guilty, feeling terribly defective. ‘I
wanted to... I...’ I didn’t know what to say to him.
His lips sought mine and he kissed me with a gentle touch, almost timidly.
‘I don’t want our love-making to be this one-sided,’ he whispered when
he drew away, his hands sweeping my hair back and twisting it carefully
out of the way. Then he was laying me back on the bed.
I looked up at him, feeling something strange stirring in my gut, and
watched him finish undressing. ‘Make me want you,’ a quavering voice suddenly
said, sounding desperate. Sounding scared. Sounding entirely unsure of
themselves and positive all at the same time. It took the both of us a
heartbeat to understand that the voice belonged to me.
Heero, pants discarded, came to kneel on the bed, hovering over me. ‘What
are you saying?’
‘I’m ready,’ I told him. ‘I want you to touch me... that way, again.’
His hand settled on my hip, caressing gently up and down my side. I couldn’t
help the shivering flinch my body made. ‘Duo...’ he began, but I wouldn’t
let him go on.
‘Shhh,’ I breathed. ‘Don’t promise me you won’t go that far... please.
Don’t say it. Let it happen if it will.’
My words kindled that fire in him that flares so bright and sometimes
seems to burn so hot. His kiss then was more hungry than gentle, more
fierce than timid. I found myself responding to his touch with shuddering
leaps and soft cries, found my heart already racing in fearful anticipation.
His hands were everywhere, dancing over my skin, one minute firm and sure,
one minute light and teasing. I tried to keep up, tried to meet his touches
with caresses and kisses of my own, but he’s almost overwhelming when
he loves me like that. As though he can’t touch enough of me. I would
barely register that he was suckling a nipple before his lips found their
way to thigh or hip. Was still panting from the feel of his cool fingers
stroking over my face when they were suddenly wrapped around my erection.
He plays my body like a master musician, jubilant when he coaxes sound
from my lips, delighted when he drives me to rocking motion, desperate
for relief he won’t grant me so soon. His eyes are almost feral when he
manages to make me plead.
‘God, Heero...’ I begged him, my hips arching up towards him. ‘Touch me...
please touch me.’
There was some small part of my head that understood that I was pushing
toward unknown ground and was afraid, but the rest of me was lost in his
hands and just wanted that feeling only he could give me.
There was suddenly massage oil there and I honestly don’t know where it
came from. Had he been prepared for this, our first night together in
our house? Had he hoped for this offer from me? Had he intended an offer
of his own? I’ll never ask because I don’t really want to spoil the memory
of it with details that don’t matter now. Because that night lives in
my memory as one of my most precious times with Heero.
It took nothing more than the brush of his fingers down the length of
my thigh to prompt me to throw my legs open, accepting his touch with
abandon. I think I might have whimpered for him. I think he groaned at
It was not so hard to accept his tender probing this time. He didn’t try
to distract me from it like he had before, letting me feel it as he teased
at my entrance, stroking gently until I was unconsciously moving with
him. He didn’t speak, but I felt when his caress changed, felt that moment
when slick fingers slid within. Gentle... God, his hands are so gentle,
it’s hard to remember that he could snap me in half without half trying.
I think sometimes it’s that velvet over steel feel of him that I find
so intoxicating. He’s so damn strong; but when his hands are on my body...
he almost worships me.
That feeling was building within me again, some response to this most
intimate of sharings, a need that I didn’t half understand, could not
have described. His fingers, moving inside me, were building that feeling
into an aching desire past anything I’d ever felt.
I looked up at him, where he hovered over me, and was almost dazed by
the look of need in his eyes. He is so damn beautiful, so strong and solid
and real. With my heart pounding in my throat until my voice was nothing
more than a breath, I called to that need, ‘Please Heero...’
He... growled. Deep throated and husky and he shifted above me until he
was kneeling between my thighs. I felt his fingers leaving me, and stared
up at him, wide-eyed, knowing what was coming. Wanting it. Afraid of it.
The oil was there again and he stroked it over his length, his eyes not
leaving mine. He produced a towel from the same damn place the oil had
come from, I suppose, and cleaned his hands before leaning down to kiss
me. I could feel his slick cock brushing my thigh and a tremor overtook
me. He seemed to be hesitating and I had this sudden sense that if we
backed away from this now, it would never happen. I stretched a leg up
and wrapped it around his hip, making my own hips tilt to meet his. He
groaned, and when I looked into his eyes he seemed lost behind the desire...
lost to his need.
His body ground down to meet mine and I felt him pressed against me...
against that place he had so carefully prepared. I couldn’t react, felt
frozen in place, half my brain telling me to shove him off and the other
half wanting to beg him for more. A cry left me and it felt like a steel
band was constricting my chest, I couldn’t seem to draw air back into
my lungs again. I could feel my body quivering, unsure how to handle the
conflicting commands my fear and passion where handing it. All I could
do was stare up at him and wait.
Supported on his elbows, he suddenly swept his hands over my face, pushing
my hair away, baring me to his eyes. ‘Breathe, love,’ he commanded and
it was as though his voice granted me the ability again. Air filled my
aching lungs in a sudden gasp and he seemed to be drawn in with it. I
felt him penetrate me and I cried out, fighting panic, struggling with
a yearning I wasn’t quite ready for. We both froze.
‘Duo?’ he questioned, voice fearful and hips as still as stone. ‘You’re
I could only lie beneath him, gasping for breath. I could feel the quivering
that was frightening him, but I wasn’t sure I could name its source. I
wasn’t sure it was fear.
‘Maybe we should stop,’ he whispered, hands moving gently over my forehead,
keeping my bangs pushed back, keeping me from hiding from him.
‘No,’ I whimpered, feeling so strange, so vulnerable. ‘Please don’t stop...’
He shifted and there was a faint lessening of his weight and I knew he
intended to pull away from me. ‘No,’ I whimpered and grabbed his hips,
holding him tight, suddenly more afraid of his stopping, than of his going
forward. He cried out, face suffused with something very akin to joy,
and stopped trying to pull back.
‘Take...’ My control, ‘me,’ I breathed, head full of disjointed
feelings that barely had words to describe them. I couldn’t have told
him what was going on inside me if my life had depended on it. But that
growing flood of feelings in my chest was cresting, was within my grasp.
Submission. Vulnerability. Trust. Domination. Need. Care. Desire. Command.
Control. It was more than I could impart, more than I half understood,
the best I could manage was, again, ‘Take me.’
There was something in his eyes, in his expression, that told me he might
understand. His body was flushed and sweat-covered, his hunger as plain
as the day. But I saw it tempered with a kind of... reverence, a desire
not to hurt me that was stronger than his own need. That look washed away
the last of my trepidation, battled and won against the nagging mental
pictures that had been trying to intrude on my memory. There was nothing
of the streets of L2 here. Nothing at all.
My hands pulled at him, kneaded at his hips, and he gave me what we wanted.
Sliding into me with excruciating slowness, filling and stretching me
in a way I would not have believed possible.
It was strange and wonderful and frightening and so very alien. And it
was Heero... inside me. It was like the sealing of a vow. The keeping
of a promise. I could barely believe it was happening.
I thought he would never be seated fully, was half afraid I wouldn’t be
able to take him completely. And I wanted that very desperately of a sudden.
Wanted all of him. I gasped out a sob when I felt the cool press of his
sac against me and knew I’d managed it... knew I had him as close as we
would ever be.
Bowed over me, he pressed gentle kisses to my chest and sighed against
my skin, ‘All right?’
‘Oh God, yes!’ I moaned and let my hands slide up his ribs, wanting to
entice him to move. My words made him throb within me and I shivered at
the feel. ‘Please...’ I begged, not sure what I wanted... what I needed.
I’d never felt anything as near perfect as this joining. Not even that
one time that he’d offered himself to me. This just felt... right,
I think I whined in protest when he shifted and I felt him slipping from
me, but then he gave a shallow thrust of his hips and returned to my depths.
I panted; suddenly understanding what my body wanted, and I found myself
rising to meet him.
‘That’s it,’ Heero sighed, and his next thrust was a little deeper, a
little less tentative. My hips began to rock with his and I was lost to
Panting, whimpering, clutching at him, straining upward, I have little
in the way of coherent memory of that next part. I remember him having
to remind me to breath. I remember shouting his name. I remember wishing
it would never end. Then I remember thinking I couldn’t handle any more.
What he was doing to me, what he was making me feel, was unreal. The familiar
upward spiral seemed to have no end, I was mounting a height unlike anything
I’d ever felt before and began to fear the fall. Every plunge he made
into me sent stabs of lightning across my sight, sent shocks of pleasure
through me until I wasn’t able to do more than hang on to him.
‘Let it go,’ he urged me; voice sounding strained and thick and very far
away. ‘Don’t fight me... just let go.’
For a crystalline moment, he came clear in my sight; his hair plastered
to his forehead with sweat... his face and chest flushed red... his eyes
locked on me. And I understood that he couldn’t take my control, couldn’t
take that burden from me... I had to give it.
I just had to trust him. I just had to relax that death grip I held on
my own command of myself.
‘Heero... please...’ I gasped out, and the sight of him wavered and watered
in front of me.
‘Yes,’ he groaned, his fingers reaching to grasp my erection. ‘Now, baby...
It was all it took. We came together in that moment; shuddering and heaving
and crying out... and it was almost more than my senses could bear. Never
before... and never since... have I ever experienced anything quite like
that first time.
When my mind chose to house itself in my body again, I was vaguely aware
of Heero’s weight, of his breath on the side of my neck, of the feel of
him still lodged inside me, pulsing faintly in the final throes of his
orgasm. I was aware of the chill of drying sweat. Was aware of the sound
of panting breath. Of trembling limbs.
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