Title: Koji ma Oshi
author: Sol 1056
rating: NC-17 for sex, violence, and dirty mouths
warning: BDSM, psychological issues, post-post-EW
pairings: 2x1, 3x5x3, 4xR
Chapter Fourteen
"I should buy you a cookbook," I told Heero, and licked my fork thoroughly before taking another bit of lamb. "Then I won't have to wait forty-five minutes for it to be delivered."
"You'd still have to wait while it was cooking," Heero replied. "And I don't need a cookbook. I'm very good at stew."
"That's true. But man cannot live on stew alone," I recited. "Besides, even I know how to make stew. You take a bunch of stuff, throw it in a pot, and cook it until it looks done. Usually for several hours."
Heero made a face. He sat cross-legged above the covers, at the end of the bed; I'd remained half under the covers, with the blanket across my lap, leaning against the headboard. The meal lay between us, and we'd soon given up separating the dishes, preferring to eat a little of each of what we'd ordered. Once again he'd chosen vegetarian dishes, and I humored his insistence that I try the snow peas.
"Hilde must've taught you," Heero said. "You couldn't cook when we were in school."
"I taught Hilde," I retorted. "And I knew how to cook, back then. I was just too lazy. I had to pull my share among the Sweepers. We traded off on cooking days."
Heero raised an eyebrow, then glared when I skewered the last piece of lamb just before he did. I twirled it on the fork, taunting him, and his glare deepened.
"You like lamb?" I held out the fork, letting my voice go a bit husky. "Then in that case... "
He growled, and crossed his arms, eyes narrowed.
"Your loss." I nibbled on the lamb. He was watching my mouth. Hah, point to me. I held out the half-eaten piece of lamb. "Last chance... "
Heero frowned, then reached out, grabbing for the fork, but I yanked it back. He always was stronger than me, but he'd never had my speed.
"Nope." I smirked, and held it out again. "You want it... "
We stared at each other for a long moment, before Heero leaned forward. His gaze never left mine, boring into my skull as his mouth opened. Firm, thin lips in an 'o' ... and that pointed tongue, just peeking out of his mouth. I imagined that mouth wrapped around my dick and had to breathe through my nose for a second--and Heero's o-shaped mouth curled, as if trying not to smile. He even flicked his tongue at me, and I smiled, but put a layer of sarcasm across it.
"There... " I placed the lamb on his tongue, then pulled the fork back just before he closed his mouth. He glowered at the fork, then at me, and I leaned forward, supporting my weight on one hand as I grinned widely. "Behave, and you get a treat."
"Give me the damn lamb."
"I don't consider that behaving," I chided.
Heero growled.
"Still not qualifying."
He scowled, then opened his mouth again, eyes closing. He remained like that, perfectly still, and I had to swallow hard before placing the lamb in his mouth. His eyes came open, gradually, deep blue from thin slits to wide; the fork was in his mouth, and only once he was looking at me again did I pull the fork from between his lips.
I set the fork down, and leaned forward to tap under his chin. "Chew."
He mumbled something around the bite, looking unimpressed, and I chuckled at him. After a moment, he swallowed, and picked up his beer, taking a long drag before giving me a sulky look.
"You're not a submissive," he announced.
"Nope." I speared another snow pea, licking the sauce off it before eating it in small bites. "You thought I was?"
"Maybe." Heero raised the bowl of rice to his face, shoveling the rice into his mouth. His eyes were intent over the plastic rim of the bowl, and he looked thoughtful when he placed the bowl back on the bed. "But I saw you with Zorya so many times, and you always seemed... "
"I've subbed to her. She's a good dominant, and it was a valuable learning experience."
"You'd never subbed before?" Ah, he had that note in his voice like he thought he was onto something. I pondered how much to explain, or whether I'd hold that minor detail back, and get him with it later.
"I believe in trying new stuff whenever possible," I hedged, but I grinned nonchalantly at the same time. "Have you tried the water chestnuts?"
Without looking, Heero leaned forward and stabbed his fork through a water chestnut, ignoring the one on my fork. He shoved it into his mouth, chewed twice, and swallowed--all with the air of someone practically flipping me off. He set down his fork, and I couldn't help but laugh softly before eating my own bite.
"What do you like about being dominant? What do you get out of the scene?" His tone had gentled again, into something more inquisitive, if tentative.
"I like... " I brought one leg up against my chest, and rested my chin on my knee. "I like figuring out what the person really wants, under everything they've said. I like having all that room to maneuver, around their limits, and see what I can push and where I shouldn't. And I like... " I knew exactly what I was doing, now that I had a better idea of where I stood with him, and it surprised me--in a back-of-the-mind, idle way--just how confident I felt, how ... powerful I felt. "I especially like hearing the sounds the submissive makes. Knowing I'm the one who got them to that point."
Heero blinked, and dropped his gaze; his brow was furrowed. "I like knowing that, too, but the rest of it seems like such a burden."
"To each their own." I shrugged. "I find subbing hard. I keep trying to figure out what the dominant wants. I can't not think about my role."
"But that's what a good submissive does." Heero snorted. "A good submissive isn't just a hunk of clay, passively shaped."
"Ever been in the middle of a scene and thought how you'd do something, come up with a way to do it better?"
He thought about that for a minute, and shook his head.
"Yeah, well, I do." I grinned. "I get ideas everywhere, too. I like the chance to use them."
"Ideas."
"Yeah." I left it at that, and instead twirled my fork in my fingers as though implying something. Heero's eyes were glued to my fingers, and he seemed to drag his attention away with some effort. Ha, hot fucking damn, this is cool, I was crowing inside. All the long, laborious conversations with Libri, with Tiki, and the other submissives I'd met, but none had reacted as ... openly as Heero. I wasn't even sure if half the time he was aware how easily I could see his responses. I might not always know the meaning, but even in my worst moments I'd always registered and noted that he reacted to everything. I smiled, remembering Hilde, and couldn't resist.
"Hilde used to complain that you had a poker face," I teased.
"I do." He smirked.
"Not... even... close." I dropped my fork and began closing up the containers, neatly sidestepping his inevitable protest. "You done? Or were you still eating?"
"I'm done," he replied, and within a few minutes, we'd cleaned it all up and dropped the containers back into the delivery bag. I'd return them the next day for a deposit refund.
He remained at the end of the bed, but I climbed out from under the blanket and stretched out, hands clasped behind my head. "Tomorrow I guess it's back to the grind. I'll need to contact the Sweepers rings and let them know what happened."
Heero nodded.
I cocked my head at him, then motioned with my elbow towards the other pillow. "Lie down. You're on a bed. Beds are for lying on."
"Then we should've moved into the kitchen to eat, because tables are for eating on." He smiled--a bit on the shy side, unexpectedly--and turned around, moving backwards to stretch out next to me.
"Technicality." I sighed, expansively. "Full stomach. Good."
"And everyone thinks you're a man of so many words."
I grunted. "Duo like food."
"Idiot."
"Only when it suits my purposes."
We were quiet for a while, enjoying the post-dinner euphoria. Heero broke the silence.
"I should have followed up." He paused, and turned his head to give me a serious look. It took me a second to realize he was talking about mailing me his dissertation. "I shouldn't have figured that when I didn't hear from you, that it meant you didn't want to talk to me."
"Yes, you should have ... but it's in the past, now." I shrugged, and gave him a wry smile. "I was mad at first, but these things happen. We're cool now, right?"
"Yeah." Heero didn't look convinced, though.
I rolled over on my side. It meant I ended up only an inch away from him, body to body, and I propped my head up on my hand and stared down at him, sorely tempted to counterbalance the position by placing my hand on his hip.
"Just... when you first found out... you looked... " His brow furrowed, and I knew he wasn't sure how to express himself. Again.
"I do get angry." I rolled my eyes, because he should've known that; I had a temper back in the war, too. "But I don't hold grudges. Nothing I can do to change the past." I sighed; it was a bittersweet reality, but there it was. "Don't say sorry. Just don't do it again."
Heero snorted. "I don't plan on going through the dissertation process again. Ever."
"Maybe it's just a tradition for us," I said, mentally skipping a stone back to the previous topic. "You do something to me, I do it back."
"Other way around." Heero gave me that flat-eyed stare again. "You shot me first, remember."
"And then I rescued you, so naturally you paid me back by stealing parts off Deathscythe."
"You'll never let me forget that. What was that about not holding grudges?"
"You don't see me shooting your ass now, do you?"
"You didn't shoot my ass. You shot me in the arm and the leg."
"I'm not so old I don't remember where I shot you. Asshole."
"No, arm and leg. Not ass."
"What the hell do you want?" Somewhere between exasperated and highly entertained by the repartee, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?"
Heero froze, staring at me, and once again we were stuck in some kind of a bizarre tableau, each waiting for the next moment to arrive. Then he grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, and pulled upwards, yanking it over his head and dropping it on the floor next to him. He rolled onto his side, and pointed to his left arm. The small round scar had faded over the years into a slight pucker, lighter than the rest of his golden-toned skin; a circle no bigger than the pad of my thumb.
Fine, you sneaky bastard, two can play that game. I leaned forward, and pressed my lips against the scar. As I began to pull away, I opened my mouth just enough to lick the scar. Heero's skin shivered, and I smiled to myself, leaning back with a smug smile.
"There. All better." I let the smile fade into something just this side of a leer, but with a veneer of concern. "Does it hurt anywhere else?"
Heero's eyes were wide, the steel-blue startlingly bright despite the low light of the room's small bedside lamp. His hair was in his eyes, hooding his gaze; his mouth open a fraction. We were close enough that I could feel small puffs of air against my cheek with each of his breaths.
He didn't move, and I raised an eyebrow, cocking my head at him. I raised my hand, and when he didn't move, I ran a finger down his chest. His skin rippled under the touch, muscles flexing involuntarily, and he hissed sharply when I circled his bellybutton with a fingertip.
"Then in that case... "
Before I could finish, he'd rolled over on his back and called my bluff. I'd figured he'd laugh, tease, parry in some way as we had been since dinner arrived. I didn't figure he'd undo the buttons on his jeans and slide the jeans right down his hips, bringing his legs up to push the jeans down to his ankles, then kick them off the bed. Next thing I knew, Heero Yuy was naked. Totally, bare-flesh-everywhere, naked. Rolling onto his side again, he stared at me from under his eyebrows, and it took every ounce of concentration to keep from showing how shocked I was.
"That's convenient," I muttered, and ran my hand down his side, down to the second round scar, this one on his leg. I scooted down the bed, inhaling deeply the scent of his sweat, a little bit of soap, and something else that reminded me of gun oil and vernier engines. His tumescent erection nestled in a bed of dark brown curls, and when I exhaled purposefully across it, it convulsed, hardening. I smiled and arched over him to kiss the scar. This time I didn't just lick it; I opened my mouth and bit down.
Heero gasped, his hand coming up, but I caught his wrist. He jerked back on my hold, and I began to suck. Tang, sweat, salt, as if I could draw blood; I licked across the scar a few times and sat up. With a flick of my hand I forced him to roll onto his back to prevent his wrist twisting, and he stared up at me, waiting.
Were we playing? Was this a scene? Some still-rational part of my brain--the part that wasn't screaming 'do it! do it!' at the top of its lungs--realized that if this went anywhere, we couldn't fuck it up. Some things, once done, couldn't be taken back. We had to be equals. Carefully I let go of his wrist, ignoring the flash of bewilderment across his face, and I sat back on my haunches.
One by one, I unbuttoned my shirt until it was open halfway, and pulled it open to reveal my chest.
"But you've hurt me, too," I whispered.
"Duo?"
I put a hand over my heart. "Here. Make it better."
Heero blinked, then in one swift move, he was crouched before me, his hands on my thighs. He gave me one more puzzled, inquisitive look--was he asking for permission? or doubting me?--and then he bent forward until his nose was against my chest ... and his lips on my nipple. One light kiss, feather-soft, then a hesitant lick across my nipple, a second, a third ... and then he opened his mouth and began to suck. His hand came up; he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into him, suckling more fiercely.
I gasped, biting back a moan; the sensation of his wet mouth on my chest was dragging a line straight down to my dick and I was instantly hard. Oh, fuck, fuck, don't stop, I wanted to cry, but I opened my eyes and knew the light was on and instinctively flinched. Double fuck--
Heero raised his head, and his nimble fingers were undoing my shirt.
"Wait," I choked out, twisting out of his grasp to reach for the lamp. "We need--"
"What?" Heero caught my shirt, pulling at it, growling low in his throat.
"Just let me get the--" My fingers were almost at the lamp when he realized what I was doing. He grabbed my arm and pulled it backwards, flipping me onto my back, legs folded under me. "Hey!"
"Leave it on."
"I want it off," I retorted, and had to shift about to get my legs straight.
"Why?" Heero shifted, completely unconcerned about the fact that I was fully dressed and he was ... well, not.
And he had an erection that glistened at the tip. I wanted to stare, then I thought of him staring at me in return, and promptly threw him off to reach for the lamp again.
Darkness would be so much easier. "I don't like having a light--"
"I want to see you," he whispered, and that was enough to stop me, or at least pause something inside me. Heero undid the buttons at my wrist--when was the last time I changed clothes, anyway?--and began to ease the shirt off my shoulders. I squirmed, and he chuckled, never stopping.
"Wait, Heero, no really," I protested. "I don't like having--"
"I do," he replied, and in one smooth move straddled me. "I like seeing who I'm with."
"Yeah, but--"
"Duo." Heero frowned, and ran his fingers down my chest.
I arched under the touch, and craned my neck, wondering if I could grab something. Throw it at the lamp, knock it off the table--why was I so worried about it? I'd had sex once or twice in light this low, and I'd not been laughed out of the room but still--
"Duo, calm down," Heero murmured. His fingers landed on my stomach, and I realized he was trembling as much as I. For a heartbeat, I held my breath, then relaxed--as best I could. He smiled, that shy tiny smile, the one I'd seen when we were kids, the barest hint of a curl to his lips. Then he shifted backwards down my legs, to give himself room to lean over.
His lips, on my stomach, and I gasped again: stomach doing flip-flops ... followed by jumping jacks. I could feel his hands, light shivering touches up and down my ribs, plucking at my nipples, and I wasn't sure what to do with my own hands, how to respond ... because what the fuck was I doing in bed with him--and why the fuck was I complaining?
This is what I wanted, what I'd thought of, but it was too much, too soon--my chest ached, my heart pounded. Heero raised his head, and his fingers slid down my stomach to tug at the button of my jeans. Before I'd even thought, I'd grabbed his hands, staring up at him. I wasn't sure if it was on my face, but I knew I was I was feeling.
"Duo?" Heero frowned, and pulled at his hands, but I didn't let go.
"I'm... " Okay, deep breath, swallow, and be honest. "I can't."
"You... " He gazed down at me, and it took everything I had not to flinch--so exposed, so open--and then he stared for a heartbeat or two at the obvious bulge in my jeans. "I don't understand."
"I... " I closed my eyes. I couldn't say it with my eyes open, if I could say it at all. "I... don't take this the wrong way--" Heero stiffened in my hands, but I didn't let go-- "But... see, you're... uh, you're the kind of person I could, uh, care for... "
Oh, great, Duo! Just cop out at the last minute! Take the moron's half-assed way of doing things--
"I know," Heero whispered, and he relaxed above me, weight settling down onto my thighs. I nearly groaned out loud; damn, it felt good. It felt right. If only his weight were about four inches farther up towards my hips... But he was talking again; get mind off dick, Duo. Focus. "Maybe I'm getting there. Too. Me. I mean."
Damn, I'd never heard Heero truly at a loss for words--when he was, he just didn't speak. He certainly didn't telegraph his speech into single words with miles between them. I opened my eyes to see his wide-eyed, almost wild, frightened expression.
We're both pretty fucked-up, aren't we, in our own ways, I wanted to say. I wanted to laugh, too, but I doubted he'd take it any better than I would in his place. Instead, I let go of his hands and sat up far enough to reach for his erection, clasping it against my palm. His eyes came wide open at that, and his jaw dropped, a moan strangled in his throat.
No, you're really fucked-up, I told myself, as it dawned on me. This was Heero. And unlike ninety-nine percent of the population in the Earth Sphere, I wasn't afraid of him, half as much as I was maybe of myself. I sure as hell didn't care about all the death and mayhem he'd wrecked in the first seventeen years of his life, or the things he'd done since then, or the fact that he could probably still bend steel. No. I was thinking one thing.
I wonder how he kisses.
How was it I'd been so wrapped up in my own fears that I'd never let myself ask that? How was it I'd almost let him become one more person I'd fucked, dallied with, and moved on, instead of ... hell, he was stark naked in my damn bed, and I was about to jack him off as distraction so he wouldn't strip me down and make me as vulnerable on the outside as I felt on the inside. I let go of his erection, and he frowned, not understanding, until I raised my hand to run it down his cheek.
He watched me, wary, and I sat up, cupping his face in my hands, and drew him to me. Tilting my head at the last minute, I watched his eyelids drop, mouth coming open, tongue flicking at his lips--and then his lips were against mine.
Chapped, slightly rough, salt... and then my tongue met his, open mouths, and past--into his mouth, tasting, testing, pulling away before trying again. His hand fell on my bare shoulder, fingers squeezing, then nails digging in and he shifted forward, to press against my groin. I fell backwards, and he fell with me. The bedsprings creaked but I didn't care; his mouth--spice, sweet, sour, everything he'd eaten and now finally it was my tongue against his--
Damn, his mouth was hot, fiery, and I strove to press my tongue in deeper. Eat him up. Fight against his tongue, swirling around mine to run against my teeth and the roof of my mouth, pressing, pushing, searching, tangling.
I held his face tightly, not letting him go, and he relaxed his weight down onto me. My hips began to rock of their own accord, in time with my tongue moving in and out of his mouth, running along his lips, biting at his lower lip and sucking before pressing my tongue into his mouth again, fuck, such delirious heat, spice and sour and salt--
He rocked against me, hips tilting as I shifted upwards, friction too far with the cloth in the way. I groaned into the kiss, letting one hand slide down his face, his shoulder, around to his back, and nails dragging deep into skin when he pushed his hard cock against me.
Naked, in bed, with Heero, and it couldn't get any better than that--oh, it could, I knew my way around my body and knew what my dick was screaming for--and it didn't help that his hands were back on my jeans, undoing the first button. One finger ran along the inside of my jeans along the top, and my stomach leaped a few more times.
Kiss. Heat. Deeper. Wet. Taste. Push. Yes...
But the same part of my brain that stayed disengaged during a scene--that wondered how to do things better, or planned out my next short-term move--kicked into gear when Heero managed to get my fly undone.
He'd done this already, hadn't he? Pushed too far, too fast. And last time I let him. Why would he push like this? I considered briefly the notion that he was topping from the bottom--but that didn't really apply. No, his trembling fingers, body thrusting against me, tongue in my mouth--it had a hint of desperation.
I pulled back with a great deal of effort and a long groan, and put my hands on his chest, pushing him up a bit. His hands stilled at my groin, and I caught his wrists, pulling them up to place his hands on my chest and holding them there.
"Heero," I said, and it took everything I had to keep my voice calm. Now isn't the time to sound needy. Stay cool. Fuck that, I wasn't cool, so I couldn't be staying that way, but I could get cool, and fast. I took a deep breath, and let the words fall out of my mouth. "What are you afraid of?"
He gave me a baffled expression that melted into a slight frown, and tugged at his hands, but I didn't let go of them.
"Tell me," I coaxed. "Or nothing's going to happen. At all."
"What?" Heero scowled, but the line of his shoulders was too high, the lift of his brows angled in such a way, the downturn of his mouth. Put it all together and it didn't say angry, or even 'mildly amused', it said: fear.
Subtle, and probably missed by anyone else, but I'd seen that before. Usually when facing English exams, but I never had a problem with extrapolation. I just had to get Heero to get over his problem of talking. Damn it, now I wished he'd let me turn out the light. We both required it. Me to be vulnerable physically; him, to be vulnerable emotionally... that was it. I made my decision.
It took a bit of wriggling, but I ended up sitting opposite him, still holding onto his hands. He'd watched with some bewilderment, but hadn't tried to stop me. In fact, he was mostly staring at my chest, or perhaps at his hands, pressed palm-flat on my skin. I hooked a finger around his wrist--knowing he could break the hold if he really wanted--and twisted around. With one click, I turned off the light and the room was shrouded in darkness.
"Now," I whispered, letting go of his wrists and moving by feel alone until my arms were draped around his waist. He growled, but didn't move away, ending up straddling my lap again. I buried my face in his neck, licking along the tendon up to his ear. "Tell me why you feel the need to push so fast."
"I'm not," he said, and every muscle was solid steel, tense, unmoving in my arms. I ran my hands up and down his spine in lazy circles, and he shifted, apparently unaware that his erection was pressing into mine with every move. "I'm... Duo, stop that... "
"What, this?" I paused my hands, then began again. "Or this?" I licked along his neck, opening my mouth wide enough that teeth dragged against his skin. He shuddered, and tilted his head to allow better access but at the same time moved his body away from mine. I made a face in the darkness and pulled him back to me; his arms were trapped between our bodies. "I'm not going to stop," I said, testing, "but if I do, I won't start up again."
Heero froze--I think he even stopped breathing, but his fingers were like iron claws against my stomach, clenched.
"I'm not going to stop," I assured him, and my hands continued moving. "Get that through your head. You can tell me what's bothering you, and I'll still be here."
"Duo," Heero warned.
"No. You let me do it, and now it's time for the turn-around." I sighed, and rested my chin on his shoulder, and waited.
Several minutes passed, and Heero didn't relax, didn't speak, but stubbornly remained unmoving in my arms. I sighed again, and moved to press my forehead against his shoulder, before raising my head. In the darkness, his face was barely visible, but I could see just enough to make out the roundness of his mouth, and a worried flickering line between his brows. He was trying to figure it out, and having no luck finding words. Looks like I'd just crossed the line from 'settled emotional issues'--everything he'd said earlier--to 'thing still unsolved.'
Maybe people changed, to some degree, over the years, but perhaps what makes us truly us, that core part, doesn't change. Edges get filed off, talents get honed, but at the heart, Heero was still someone who could only puzzle his way through his emotions with a great deal of time, solitude... and probably a solid dose of blundering around like a bull in a china shop before he figured it out--or knocked himself out by slamming into the wall one too many times.
Time to provide a few roadsigns, I told myself. I settled myself on the bed, legs straight out before me, Heero straddling my lap, and pushed his head down until his face was against my neck. It was like bending steel, and I nearly snarled at his obstinacy, before he finally yielded.
"The Sweepers sent me to a prostitute when I was sixteen--or about that age, it was between the Eve Wars--and that was when I first had sex," I said, in a conversational tone like we weren't sitting in the dark with him naked and me halfway there. "I had sex with a man for the first time when I was eighteen."
Heero shifted, and I stroked his back until he grew still.
"For a long time, sex was just... sex. I fucked friends, had a few lovers, but everything I wanted--that I would've wanted from a lover--I got from Hilde. She was my best friend. I talked to her first, about everything, even though we'd tried to date and failed. We just couldn't get past being friends, but we didn't need to mess with it. What we had was good... but it was so good, I think, that I didn't need anything from anyone else. Make sense?"
There was no response for a few heartbeats, then Heero nodded, his nose rubbing my collarbone.
"I haven't had sex with anyone since a month or two before Hilde died," I continued. It hurt to say it--that she'd died--more than it hurt to think about the fact that I'd been essentially celibate for almost two years. "I've messed around, but it's never been any good. And I wrote it off for this reason or that, but the fact is... "
I sighed, trying to find the words. I didn't pick back up again until Heero tilted his weight, bringing one leg up to press his shin along my ribs. I realized his knees were probably hurting from the position, and leaned my weight against his bent leg so he could bring the other leg up. The movement made his hips settle more firmly against my lap, and I had to breathe through my nose as my erection sprang back into life. Heero kept his face against my neck, but one leg slipped around my hips as though embracing me. His hands were still clenched against my stomach, arms trapped between us, but I didn't let go of him to give him room to free them.
"Well, thing is, I miss what I had with Hilde. And I think... if I were with someone, I'd want that again. I'd look to a lover to be my best friend. A lover would carry the weight of not just someone to... to fuck, but someone to... " My throat closed against the words, and I had to take a minute to center, to come up with a way to say it. "Someone who could be more than that. So... I'm scared, too. Because it's not just for... the easy stuff, anymore."
I figured that was enough; enough to explain, enough for him to understand--and enough for him to see he wasn't the only one with pounding heart and trembling fingers. It was dark, the room's corners black in my vision, and his skin glowing softly in what little light could sneak through the cracks in the blinds. I kept moving my hands up and down his back, soothing him, almost stroking, as if I could ease the words from his body as much as they'd slipped from mine.
"When we were at that academy," he whispered, hoarsely, "the one where Relena found us the second time... I remember coming back from the library and seeing you, with some girl. She was... I can't remember what she looked like, but I remember you laughing and pressing up against her. She was leaning against a tree or a lamppost or something." He sighed, and his shoulders relaxed minutely. "She didn't notice me staring, and neither did you. Off in your own world, and then... "
I cringed mentally. I'd always tried to be discreet--I knew, back then, that Heero had the social experience of the average household appliance, and was about as suave--but I was a teenager. I'd always been up for a make-out session, even if I lacked firsthand experience in what to do if I'd ever actually gotten a girl to take off her shirt. Other than panic and immediately come in my pants, but fortunately--or unfortunately--I'd never gotten much farther than hand up the shirt, over the bra. It'd fueled plenty of midnight trips to the bathrooms, though.
"I decided then that the only reason you were my friend was because we were both Gundam pilots," Heero continued. "I couldn't think of any other reason you'd waste your time with someone like me."
Wasn't a waste, I thought of saying, but let my hands keep moving and let that be my reply. Don't interrupt him, I knew. Let him say it at his own speed.
"After the first Eve War, you went to L2, and when you showed back up when Relena was kidnapped, I figured it was the last chance I'd get to have your friendship. But I realized I wanted you to be safe more than I wanted you at my side... you had... you had a reason to make it out. You had friendships and a life and were more than just a Gundam Pilot. That's why I punched you and tried to leave you behind. I hoped you'd understand... "
I remembered what he'd done while I'd wept, and figured it was time to return the gesture. I turned my head, kissing him softly on the temple, and began running one hand through his hair. He relaxed again, just a fraction, but it was progress. His hands were no longer clenched against my stomach, but slack.
"After the second Eve War, you went back to L2, and the emails became more infrequent, and... I realized there wasn't anything keeping you as a friend. I didn't have anything to offer. I wasn't like those girls at the schools, and I couldn't joke or be the life of the party or... " He shrugged, and his words had a rueful note. "Then when I was finishing my dissertation, Trowa said you should look at it. I... I had this sudden... " The next few words were almost inaudible, but for the puffs of hot breath against my shoulder. "I was excited... that I might have something that would make you notice me. Something in common, and then you never... "
I let my hand keep moving through his hair. Unruly, just a bit curly; I'd never realized just how thick, and soft, it really was. I brushed back his bangs, and scratched lightly behind his ears. He sighed, and his weight settled down a bit more onto me.
"When I heard about Hilde, I wanted to be there. But it was the month before my defense, and... and I was still furious--mostly with myself. For thinking you'd give a damn about me other than as someone you'd known years ago. I knew if the world's peace were threatened, I could rely on you to show up and help out. I never doubted that. But if it were just me finishing school, that was... it felt like you'd said that outside of war, you didn't care. So I told Quatre I wasn't going to the funeral."
I tensed. I'd never thought of my silence quite that far; I'd been too angry at the notion that he'd given up so easily. It hadn't occurred to me to look at it over the scope of all the years. So long, of only random, irregular emails--mostly sent by Hilde--and those tapes she'd sent in an attempt to keep them informed probably just reinforced Heero's impression that I personally didn't care. Because if I had, I would've done it myself. Fuck, I wanted to kick myself, if only Heero weren't sprawled across my lap. Fuck, I'd been such a selfish bastard, wrapped up in day-to-day things and never taking the time...
"We argued, he and I, and our friendship nearly ended," Heero said. He moved, but only to lean more into me. "Relena's the one that patched us together, but I refused to go and Quatre was furious about it--and then Trowa argued with him in my defense, and... " He surprised me by chuckling, suddenly. "It was Wufei who knocked all our heads together, and said if we didn't call truce, he'd start taking names and kicking asses."
So that explains the strange tensions during the funeral. I recalled Wufei and Trowa being silent and withdrawn, and Quatre had looked weary and upset--but I'd been too busy trying to convince myself that any minute someone would wake me from my nightmare. I hadn't had time or energy to pay attention to the undercurrent; my entire existence had just been shattered.
"When you came to Earth, Trowa was the one who let it slip, and though I don't do surveillance, I insisted I wanted to partner with you. I thought that maybe if I helped, then you... you would see me, notice that I was here for you and then it'd be... the closest to being Gundam pilots again."
His whisper was so faint. I didn't stop moving my hands--up and down his back, across his hair--but I wanted to just wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly, and beg his forgiveness. Then I wanted to deck him for not saying any of this sooner, but this was Heero. He had the emotional strength... well, small household appliances probably had more emotional fortitude than Heero, sometimes. He was always so much more fragile than anyone else seemed to realize, outside our group...
"But it didn't work. You seemed so distant, closed-off, and you weren't at all like the person I'd known. I didn't know what to say or do to get that bond again, and... all the advice I got, I tried it but nothing worked. So I was about to give up, and then the second time you went to lunch, I figured I'd go get something, too. Outdoor café, and I was across the street, and saw you eating with Zorya."
Ah... I remembered that one. We'd been discussing world politics, and every time I told her something that made her laugh, she gave me another bite of her dessert. It had been sexy, having her feed me across the table. And fun, too, in a teasing way I'd not had since Hilde... but for Heero to see it across the street--I nearly swore under my breath. Yeah, seeing that would have given Heero a distinct impression... He moved against me, and I realized he was practically snuggling; his hands had crawled across my belly to clasp my waist, though it had to be awkward for him with his arms still caught between our bodies. I kept ruffling his hair, petting him, and kissed him on the temple again, then the cheek.
"I got the idea that if you were... if you were with her, that maybe then we'd have something in common. I told Rex I wanted to focus on being a... dominant, and he kept pestering me until I told him why. That's when he started really teaching me about it. Up until then, I'd basically been dominant but bottom--letting the submissive outline what he or she wanted, and doing that exactly."
I couldn't help it, I'd been silent long enough. "That's not being dominant. That's just bottoming with directions."
"I know."
He sighed, and his one bent leg uncurled, then straightened, and locked around my waist. He nuzzled my neck, and I smiled into his cheek, kissing him softly on his ear. The floodgates were full-open, I sensed, and from here on out it'd be easier. The worst was past... for both of us.
"I kept wondering when I'd see you at the club, or when you'd say something about it, or maybe... but then finally I saw you there, and you were sitting at Zorya's feet. The rumors had said she'd snagged a newcomer to the club, and I thought I'd recognized the nickname. Wufei used to call you that, I thought."
"Yeah." I chuckled.
Heero snorted. "It's supposed to be an insult, you know."
"I prefer to think of it as Wufei's term of endearment."
"Idiot." Heero's hands moved again, sliding across my skin to clasp at the small of my back; his heels were against my ass. "But when I saw you there, you were so clearly with her, so focused on her, and once again you didn't even notice me. You just... " He shrugged, and fell silent.
And he calls me an idiot? I rolled my eyes, knowing he wouldn't see it in the dark, not with his face pressed against my neck. Maybe I should invest in a neon sign, or next time I'd just tie him up and torture him until he accepted the fact that the only person I'd noticed in that room had been him, and there wasn't a way I couldn't not notice him. Not when we were fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, or twenty-seven. I may be a self-centered, cynical bastard, but he'd always been someone I'd noticed. Man, we were fools. I sighed, and hugged him, tightly, holding him close for a number of heartbeats, until he hugged me back, tentatively, then firmer.
"I thought," he murmured, voice fading--and I realized just how exhausted he must also be, despite the sleep, and good food--opening his heart this wide had to have taken a toll. "I thought if I let you leave, the other night, that I'd never get a chance again. And then when you did leave, I thought that was it, and... and... " He paused; I could hear him swallow, hard. "When Zorya called, I think I broke every record from my place to yours... the idea that she thought it'd be me you needed, would want, and... "
"She was right," I whispered, my hands stroking along his skin.
I could feel scars dappling his backside, but it made him only more precious to me. Strange, that so many people find flawless skin more attractive, yet I was drawn to someone with imperfections and chock full of mistakes and old wounds.
"I'm glad you came when she called," I said, and kissed him on the cheek again. "I wouldn't want anyone else here."
He didn't answer, but hugged me again, and I knew he wasn't going to let go--and I knew now why he was afraid. Perhaps the edge had been filed off that fear, but I held back on telling him my own history, my own reasons for finding Zorya and for being at the club. Right then, it would seem like reassurance, or perhaps too pat in contrast to his confessions. I'd save it, and I knew when I'd tell him, and I knew just how to say it so he'd have to believe me, and so it'd be just where and when and how he needed.
"It's almost two in the morning," I said, glancing at my bedside clock over his shoulder. I could barely make out the dim numbers, but I figured one, two, or three--all qualified as relatively late, for a night where we'd have to work in the morning. "Sleepy?"
"Some."
"Tired, then?"
Heero exhaled sharply, an abbreviated laugh, perhaps. "Yeah."
"Okay. Hold on." I pulled him closer to me, took a deep breath, and brought my legs forward into cross-legged position under him. Rising up on my knees, I hoisted us upwards, and yanked the blanket back, one-handed. We landed on the bed sheets, and I grunted. "Damn you for being all muscle," I complained, and got another soft chuckle for the comment.
"You need to work out more," he replied, but didn't let go.
Even when I leaned sideways to lie us both down, his arms and legs stayed wrapped around me. Though it was a bit uncomfortable to have his knee in my kidneys, after a moment it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. I pulled the blanket over us, and shifted upwards in his arms until his head was under my chin. Wrapping my arms around him again, I kissed him one more on the forehead.
"Sleep," I whispered, pleased I finally had a chance to say it back to him. "I'll be here when you wake."
He said nothing, and in a few moments, the only answer I had was the gentle rise and fall of his chest against mine.
I smiled into the darkness, and thought of Hilde, and all the times she'd told me to head to Earth, to visit Heero, and all the excuses I'd made. My life had been on L2, and even after her death, my life had remained there--in mind, if not in truth. And that life might be gone, as was she, but everything she'd taught me was still worth something, if not everything. I was poorer without her in my life, but I was still richer than I would've been had I never known her.
And now, somehow, I'd spend all that wealth on Heero. I pulled him close, kissed him on the forehead one more time, and followed him into dreams.
On to Chapter fifteen
Back to chapter thirteen