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 Fifteen
When I was eighteen, I'd bought a double bed and never looked back. It was heaven. I could sprawl, stretch out, lie sideways, upside down--and then I hit a growth spurt, ended up six-two, and my feet now hang off the bed in every direction unless I'm diagonal.
However, it had been a long time since I'd tried to sprawl with someone else in the bed beside me. And I couldn't remember a time--if ever--that the someone else in bed with me had slept directly on top of me. I felt like I was being pressed into the mattress.
Damn, Heero was one heavy son of a bitch.
I sighed, feeling his breath across my collarbone, his forehead pressed against my neck, and let him be. There was a slight line of drool making its way down my chest, and I could only chuckle quietly and wrap my arms around him. Somewhat absent-mindedly, I began stroking his back with my fingertips, under the blanket, and he shifted closer--away from my hand--but didn't wake up. His leg was thrown across my hips, thigh pressed against my dick, and his erection was digging into my hip.
Without even thinking about it, I ran my hand down Heero's side, to cup his ass, pulling him closer to me. I brushed my fingertips along the crack of his ass, and imagined the toy I'd bought--such an impulse buy, and probably silly, but still...
"Duo," Heero grumbled, and nuzzled my neck. He smacked several times with his lips, and then went right back to sleep.
I chuckled, a bit louder, and ran my fingers across his hip again. I thought of the toy, and then I thought of Heero... I'd dress him in a slim black collar, like the kind I'd seen on a submissive at the club. Nothing too fancy, very plain, simple. Austere. And... those black leather pants that were so low on the hip as to reveal just the barest tips of his pubic hair. Yeah. My dick was definitely responding to the image. A leather jacket, no shirt... oh, yeah, I was awake now.
Unfortunately, Heero was still asleep. Mostly.
Well, I could think of a few ways to wake him up. I glanced over his head: the clock said seven in the morning, so it was about time to get up, anyway. I ran my hand down the crack of his ass again, and then across to his thigh, pulling his leg closer against me.
"'M sleeping," he mumbled, and the arm that laid across my chest tightened, nails digging into my ribs.
"Ow, ow," I protested, and had to release his thigh to pry his hand off me. Awkward, but I managed. "Don't mangle the goods."
"That's not the goods." His words were muffled against my chest; he moved his leg to rest directly on top of my too-hard-for-words cock, and let his weight rest on me. "That's goods. Now, shut up. I'm sleeping."
"Pushy, pushy," I muttered. "It's seven a.m. Time to get up."
Heero groaned, and held on tighter.
"Look, we can do this later, but I--we--do have to get up."
"Don't wanna."
What the hell? When did Heero become a sleepyhead? Let alone such a recalcitrant bedbug? "Man, come on. Funny, but not. Let me up."
"No."
"Heero."
"Shut up. Sleeping."
"No, you're not."
"I am, too."
I sighed, then threw back the blanket. Heero growled, and didn't let go. I pondered the situation for a moment, then raised my left arm, took aim, and brought it down, hard, across the closest ass-cheek. His head shot up off my chest, bright blue eyes glaring at me--if a bit groggy.
"Hey," he said, and yawned. "That's not--"
I did it again.
Heero scowled, and the next thing I knew, he was directly on top of me, his hands around my wrists. He glowered, and dropped his forehead to my shoulder as if he were fully prepared to go right back to sleep, but he didn't let go of my wrists. I weighed my options, tensed my muscles, and acted inside a heartbeat.
I shoved down on his arms, brought my legs apart, then raised my legs up and around his thighs at the same point. He'd risen up at the first motion, eyes widening at the second, and gasping at the third.
"Awake now?" I thrust my hips up against him, and he just goggled at me. "Good."
I did it a second time, then rolled us both. We ended up with me on top, crouching over him. I considered mauling him, but I had morning breath, hadn't showered in twenty-four hours, and my braid was more out than in--hair was everywhere. Heero blinked up at me, and I grinned before letting go of him and getting off the bed. He frowned, then rolled over on his stomach, hugging my pillow. I leaned over and slapped his ass a third time. He shot up, spinning in place, his hand a vise around my wrist.
"Don't do that again," he snarled.
"Then wake your ass up. I'm showering first, and I'll find you clothes while you wash," I told him. With a turn of my wrist I'd broken free of his handlock, and he glared. "What the hell is up? You couldn't have been that tired. Thought you'd be up by now."
He was pouting. I was almost certain of it, and I watched him in the small mirror over my dresser while I dug around for clean jeans and a decent shirt.
"I don't like getting up in the morning," he finally said.
"You never slept past five when we boarded together. Even in space you were up before everyone else." I leaned against the dresser, closing the drawer with my hip.
"I hated it. I had to get up between five and six every morning for the first seventeen years of my life. Then I discovered afternoon classes in college." He yawned and scratched his chest; he was perched on the edge of the bed, completely at ease. I envied the bastard, in some ways. "I'm a professional student. I haven't gotten up before eight-thirty for ten years. Except when on assignment," he added.
"You've been in the office at eight, plenty of times," I pointed out. He was quiet, and after a moment just nodded; he didn't look me in the eye. I picked up the clean clothes I'd selected. "I'm going to shower. You can make coffee and wait, or you can go back to sleep, in which case, expect to hop right up when I come back, or to be woken up again."
He got that pout on his face again, combined with a slight frown. "I'll make coffee, then," and he got up, strolling out of my bedroom with all the comfort as if this were his own damn home. I nearly dropped my clothes when he walked past: muscles tensing and releasing in those long slender legs, small hips, chest and stomach rippling and crap, add an extra five minutes to the shower. Yeah, five minutes should do it.
Chill, boy, I had to remind myself: sometimes anticipation is half the fun.
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In the end, I decided instead to call Trowa while Heero was in the shower. His secretary answered, took one look at me, and sniffed. She had to have been cloned from Wufei--same disapproving look.
"Hey, babe," I said, just to be obnoxious. "I need to talk to Trowa. Tell him Duo's on the line."
"Director Barton is in a meeting," she informed me.
"With Director Chang," I replied. It was a guess on my part, but Relena had dropped comments about their schedule, and so had Heero. Apparently the two always had breakfast together in Trowa's office. "Put me through."
"He's not to be interrupted."
"I see." I disconnected, and hit speed dial. Relena picked up on the second ring. "How can I get past that bitch who works for Trowa?"
"Mindy... " Relena sighed heavily. "The only reason she's stayed is because she's not afraid of him, I think."
"Well, she should learn some fear of the rest of us!" I made a face at the vid-phone, and Relena rolled her eyes. "Tell me how to get past her. I don't have Trowa's direct line."
"Doesn't have one. All calls go through her. Une's orders. Just ask her about his subscription to Golfer's Life."
I blinked, opened my mouth, and had no response. Relena laughed brightly. I shook my head, and pretended to clean out my ears.
"Yes, he golfs. It's the only thing he can do now, with his bad knee." Relena shrugged. "I've got to go. But if you mention that to Mindy, she'll put you through. It's our code phrase, and she knows not to deny us, then."
"Gotcha. Thanks, babe. Give everyone my love."
She signed off, and I put a call back to Trowa's office. Mindy sniffed again at the code phrase--and it was damn hard to say it without snickering. A minute later Trowa picked up; he was busy wiping crumbs off his mouth.
"Barton. Oh, Duo. Hey. Where've you been?"
"Recovering," I said, and wasn't sure if I wanted to explain. I managed a smile. "Kinda... grieving. Hit me suddenly. Took a day. Heero was here."
Trowa's eyebrows went up, and suddenly he smiled. No teeth, but still a true smile; his eyes nearly crinkled into lines. I laughed, and his smile widened.
"So... I think we'll take another day off, and then be back and ready to go, tomorrow. But I was wondering what... if you're not busy, that is--what're you two are doing tonight?"
Trowa's gaze darted away from me and to someone off-screen, and I knew I was right. Wufei was probably sitting across from Trowa's desk, eating his own pastry.
"Haven't had you here since I was sick, so I thought I'd show you that I'm not a pathetic host."
"It's okay, we already know you're a pathetic host." Trowa smirked.
"But I'm a pathetic host who can cook. Seven o'clock?"
Trowa glanced off-screen again, then nodded. "We'll see you then."
I hung up after the customary goodbyes, satisfied. The water had just shut off in the bathroom, and I leaned back on my chair, legs stretched out. When the door opened, Heero was on the threshold, a small towel around his hips. I had a minute to enjoy the view: shoulders narrower than mine, arms sculpted but compact, and pectorals firm and strong. It struck me that with the right clothing, that chest could be pushed up just a bit to create cleavage, and I had to roll my hips a little to find room in my jeans.
That was an odd visual, that'd never occurred to me before--then I remembered what I'd said to Zorya, about Heero's fragility. Fingers smaller than mine, narrow hips, and while he had the upside-down triangle shaped like most men, his was far more slender than mine, if tightly muscled. I had broad shoulders, flatter chest, and was mostly leg, really. When I saw myself in the bathroom mirror, I still felt gangly, like I'd woken up one morning with an extra foot of height and still hadn't figured out where to put it.
Heero noticed me looking, and gave me a puzzled glance, but it melted into a smirk. He stalked towards me, and before I could react, he'd straddled my lap.
"Your wake-up skills need work," he informed me. His fingers plucked at the buttons on my shirt, and I retaliated by running my hands up his thighs, under the towel. Heero leaned forward, catching my mouth with his, and pushed his tongue between my lips.
I opened my mouth wider, tilting my head. Our teeth knocked together, and Heero growled into my mouth--I'd grasped his ass, and pulled him tight to me. I let my fingers play, crawling forward inch by inch until they met in the crack of his ass, digging in... He broke off the kiss to give me a satisfied look, rising up and coming down with a simple flex of his legs, balanced across my lap.
"We don't have time," I said, and nearly laughed at his annoyed look. "We've got shopping to do."
"Shopping? We do?" He pawed at my shirt, pinching my nipple through the cloth. "In a minute."
"No, get dressed, and we'll go now." I curled my fingers in, digging into his ass; the index finger on my left hand pressed against his anus. Heero's eyes widened minutely, and he inhaled sharply. "Then we'll have time before everyone gets here."
"What?" Heero sat back and crossed his arms. He smirked when I gasped, because he'd just landed his entire damn heavy-ass self on my crotch. His erection was tenting the front of the towel, proclaiming quite clearly his interest.
And then I had to ask myself, once again: what was I stalling for? I was clean, my teeth were brushed, and so if it were broad daylight but... this wasn't one of the people I'd messed around with, and thrown out of my place in the morning. This was Heero. Yeah... enough with the anticipation.
I yanked the towel off his hips, and he rose up in slight shock at the quick movement, coming back down with a groan when I wrapped my hand around his dick. He flailed--Heero, flailing, now there's a sight!--as he tried to get his balance. Then his hands were on my jeans, tugging fiercely at the buttons, into my jeans to wrap around my cock, and he practically fell forward to kiss me.
Lips mashed together, noses bumped, and suddenly we were moving in tandem, lips and tongue and teeth with hands stroking, pulling. I wanted to memorize the groove along his cock with my fingers, press the head of his dick into my palm and create a permanent impression. He pulled away, moans caught in his throat, and his hand never stopped. I felt hot, cold, every muscle straining towards orgasm, tightening, pushing upwards.
I wanted to watch him come, see his face, know I'd done that, but he was watching me, too. His forehead pressed to mine; so close, breathing hot on my face, fast, and his hips thrust against my hand, his wrist bumping mine, fist slamming against my stomach. He'd done everything but said out loud last night that he wanted to be mine.
And I wanted to make him mine, too.
Heero leaned back, fist moving furiously, and I could feel the coiling in the pit of my stomach, spreading outwards and raging in--fuck, I was gonna come, and I forced my eyes open--he was panting, open-mouthed, head tilted back. With a shove, I leaned forward, and pressed my lips against his chest, digging teeth into skin, and tugged on his nipple.
Instant explosion--Heero arched his back, his fist closing tightly around my cock as his entire body spasmed. His cock jerked in my hand, from damp and sticky to wet, and hot liquid hit the underside of my chin. He fell back, shuddering, and I caught him, arm around his waist, then leaned back in the chair, pulling him with me. His hand was still around my dick, but not moving; his eyes were wide, unfocused. It was a startled, frightened look, that slipped into a sated appearance. It was more of a turn-on than anything else. Possibly ever. Heero Yuy, post-orgasm, with the smallest shy... happy smile on his face.
He shifted against me, and I didn't let go, holding him to my chest. His head rested on my shoulder, nose against my neck--and I decided I liked that, and wanted that. For now, for later, for tomorrow, for a long time to come. Heero, around me, on me, beside me, behind me, before me, with me... heavy, and muscled, and fragile, and scarred.
"Duo," Heero whispered, and tensed against my hold. I loosened my hands, and he slipped backwards, coming to his knees between my legs. He glanced up at me, then lowered his head to my cock.
Wet, hot, intense. He tilted his head up to look at me through his messy bangs, and I didn't care about appearances for that moment. His gaze was too direct, right through me, and he sucked, tugging with his lips, tongue playing with the end of my dick...
I came, like that.
Sharp burst against my eyelids, in my gut. Flash flood, no warnings--and he swallowed, repeatedly, took all of it, and I wasn't sure whether to pass out or cry out at the sensation that I was coming a second time. Holy fuck--his mouth, his hands on my balls--and I thrust again, slowing, and he rode with it, his gaze never leaving me. I fell backwards in the chair, breathing fast, and he sat back, that sated expression never leaving his lips.
Then he carefully licked his fingers, watching me the entire time. I couldn't help it; I growled, and leaned forward to grab his face and kiss him. Heero chuckled, kissing me back, and then got up.
"I think you need another shower," he announced.
I replied by wiping the underside of my chin, and licking my own fingers: salty, bitter, but a tang like orange juice, perhaps. I swiped again, while Heero watched, unmoving, as though shocked.
"I'd prefer a tongue bath," and for the first time in my life I didn't care that it was broad daylight and my dick was hanging out of my jeans. I came to my feet, and almost smirked at the fact that Heero had to lean his head back a little to stare up at me. He rolled his eyes, and stepped back; I snorted, walking past. At the last minute, I slapped him on the ass.
He instantly popped me on the ass in return.
I laughed, and headed into the bathroom to wipe off the worst of the jism, and leave my shirt in the dirty hamper. I had ideas already for how I'd make him mine, but if I did it right, then we just might get something even better.
We'd be each other's.
I liked the sound of that... but I still wanted to see Heero in that collar, with those low-cut leather jeans. And maybe, a few other things, when the time was right. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was grinning ear-to-ear. Even I had to shiver at what that grin promised.
I kept that expression the entire time we shopped. It only widened every time Heero would snort at me and roll his eyes before stomping off to find something else on the list. I couldn't help it. I wanted him again, and the best part was: I knew he wanted me, too.
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Trowa and Wufei arrived while Heero was back at his place, ostensibly to get more dishes and silverware and a few more cups, but also--hopefully--to pick up a change of clothes. I wanted him, and badly, and it'd been damn hard to cook in the small kitchen at his side and not give in and throw him against the table...
But I'd refrained, despite what I suspected were some subtle hints on Heero's part. The warm post-orgasmic glow had stayed with me all day, though we did make out against the door when we returned from shopping. I broke it off, once again, and at a few points wondered if I should get my head checked for not hauling Heero into the bedroom and just nailing him to the bed, the dresser, the wall, the door, the window--
"Smells great," Wufei said, and I had to blink a few times to get my mind back on track. The front door opened and slammed shut, and Heero stepped into the kitchen, a bag in his arms.
Trowa had sat down at the table as soon as he'd walked through the door, and I'd set him to work peeling apples for the dessert. It had been Hilde's favorite, but what surprised me was that Trowa knew this. I'd also noticed he'd been limping a little, and cursed the fact that I'd not warned them about the broken elevator. Three flights of stairs with a bad knee. Trowa caught me staring while Heero set out his dishes.
"What?" Trowa glanced down at the apple. "Am I not doing it right?"
"No, you are--just feel like an idiot for not warning you about the stairs," I replied. I wiped my hand on a dishrag and checked the rice. Heero swatted my hand away and checked it himself. "My rice," I said.
"Mine," Heero replied. "You deal with the roast."
I grumbled and dutifully checked the temperature, while Heero and Wufei struck up a conversation about the latest gossip on the new band of teachers at the Preventers academy. Trowa dropped comments here and there that made me suspect the two of them were maneuvering into getting Heero to teach at the academy--physics, it sounded like--but Heero kept side-stepping or just outright ignoring. By the time we sat down for dinner, I realized it was probably a long-running joke, since none of them seemed the least perturbed by the evasions.
What was most peculiar, however, was that Heero and Trowa ended up doing most of the talking, with a few comments from Wufei now and then. Most of the words from Wufei were slicing wit, barbed observations that made Heero and Trowa laugh, and I just chuckled and added to the conversation when I felt like it.
It was camaraderie we'd never shared as kids--I'd had it with the Sweepers, and later with the scrap yard crew--but never with these guys.
But what got me most was when I poured out wine for each of us, and Trowa raised his glass. He gave Wufei a sidelong look that spoke volumes I couldn't read, then looked around the table. Heero raised his glass as well, then Wufei, and I followed suit, not sure what was happening.
"To absent friends," Trowa said, solemnly. Wufei closed his eyes for a moment, then smiled--just the merest hint of his lips turning, an expression I'd learned over the night was probably his truest smile--and clinked his glass against Trowa's.
The rest of us did so as well, with quiet 'hear, hear,' as was the tradition. I thought of Hilde, and served up the apple pie.
It was a good night. I should've done it sooner.
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"Want me to stack these in the bag?" I finished drying the last dish while Heero scrubbed the rice pot.
"Please," he said, over his shoulder.
I put the plates and cups away in his bag, then wiped down the table. Tucking the dishrag over the fridge door handle, I regarded the place with a satisfied feeling. A minute later Heero was behind me, slipping his arms around my waist. I clasped his hands to me, then turned inside the circle of his arms.
"I need to tell you," he said, quietly--and didn't look up, but seemed to stare at my throat, instead. "That... I... I don't know why you don't... " He frowned, and looked away, then pulled away.
"Don't what?" I thought back over the day, then sighed. "You mean why I haven't jumped you and ripped your clothes off, yet?"
He laughed, a low abrupt sound. "Something like that."
"I don't want to rush things."
"It's not rushing. We've known each other for ten years."
"More like two, if you add up all the time we've actually been around each other." I pulled my braid around to the front and undid the tie, loosening the braid with my fingers. I wanted something to do with my hands, and it seemed like a good idea.
Heero didn't say anything. Then he turned around, and frowned at the sight of me with my braid almost completely undone. He cocked his head, stepping forward to reach out and run his fingers down the long stretch of hair.
"Do you still always wear it in a braid?" His tone was reverent.
"Pretty much twenty-four-seven," I replied. With nimble fingers I separated the hair into three parts and braided it up again, tighter; a minute and a half, and I was done. Hilde had timed me once; my fastest time was thirty seconds flat.
"Even when sleeping?"
"Yeah." I threw the braid over my shoulder and grinned down at him. "Why the sudden interest?" I put on an air of faux-suspicion. "You're not still planning on cutting it off while I sleep, are you?"
Heero looked shocked.
"Good. I don't recommend trying."
I took a step forward, and he stepped back, then another, until he was pressed against the countertop. I placed my hands on either side of his hips, and leaned against him. He scowled, but that annoyance soon disappeared when I kissed him--first lightly, then deeper. He growled deep in his throat and cupped my face, pushing his tongue into my mouth, punctuated by rocking hips and curled fingers.
"Duo," he said, pulling away. He was panting, and his pupils were dilated. "I want... is there some reason... "
"No, I mean, yes." I leaned against him, and pressed my forehead to his. "I just... want to go slow. Take our time. Please."
He nodded, and gradually his hands moved down my shoulders, around my arms, to hug me tightly. "I'm going to head home. I've got reading to do for a paper I coauthored," he said, whispering into my ear. Despite the bright overhead lights in the kitchen, it felt intimate, and safe. He loosened his grip, and squeezed out from between me and the counter. "But I'll see you in the morning."
"Okay," I said, a bit hoarsely from the impact of him brushing past my crotch. Down, down, we're going slow. Right. I rallied, and gave Heero a crooked smile as I followed him to the door. "But if you're not in the office at eight o'clock sharp, I'm coming to wake you up."
Heero flushed, and I couldn't help but smile--a bit sharply, too, because he gave me a narrow-eyed look. I shifted the smile to something more innocent, and he snorted.
"I'll be there," he said, and with his bag in his arms, he left.
He didn't look back, but I still watched him walk down the hallway and down the stairs. The man had an amazing ass, and I wasn't going to deprive myself of the view. Just because I wanted to take it slow didn't mean I didn't want to enjoy every stage of the journey.
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And so began the Autumn of Dating Heero Yuy, which was somewhat surreal in and of itself. During the days, we were coworkers, networking among the Sweepers and Runners, sometimes going to the shuttle station to meet up with dirtside Sweepers in person. Some evenings, we would eat together, watch a movie, and then one of us would leave while the other stayed to sleep in an empty apartment.
We began weekly dinners at Quatre's and Relena's on Sunday evenings, sometimes joined by Trowa and Wufei, along with Dorothy and whatever new guy she had that week. Zechs was there once--a new experience for me, only having seen him on the news vids--but I'd known Noin and it was great to catch up with her. Heero and Zechs circled each other like old fencing opponents, while Relena cracked jokes about setting them on each other, to which Trowa made that snorting laugh like he hoped no one noticed how funny he found the whole thing.
I had lunch with Zorya once a week--perhaps to Heero's dismay, but I wasn't sure and he said nothing. Her son had announced he was going to be a pilot when he grew up, and Zorya had the insane notion I could give her proper arguments for talking him out of it. Her attempt was a failure.
As for dating... we saw the local hockey team play. Success. Visited the concert. Minor success; Heero liked it far more than me, but I've never had a good ear for music. He took me to a planetarium; I took him to the zoo.
It was being fifteen in all the ways we never had been. Outside that one amazing moment in my apartment, before we'd begun our informal attempt at taking things slow... for the first couple of weeks, we held hands. We made out. We both had cases of blue balls so frickin' bad we probably spat nails and put holes in the bathroom wall from the force of coming in the morning shower. I know I nearly did, at least.
We moved onto making out more intensely, and sometimes I had to laugh at the progress. Above the shirt, above the waist. Under the shirt, above the waist. Shirt off. Above the jeans, below the waist. Under the jeans, below the waist...
I discovered that sixty-nine--a uncomfortable position, usually, and blow-jobs weren't always my favorite, anyway--could be a great deal of fun. Neither of us were screamers, but our mouths were occupied anyway. Heero would grunt and tense, and then he'd come with a soft sigh, while I would arch my back and dig nails into his hips, coming with a strangled gasp. After a while, it got to where giving him a blowjob in his kitchen--in broad daylight--didn't cause me to back up in alarm. And the day he dropped to his knees in my living room and jerked my jeans down--pushing me against the back of my sofa--didn't have me leaping for the blinds to darken the room.
Progress.
Except... in some ways, everything else was stalled. Since that one breakthrough, the Sweepers had little to report. The Runners were keeping their eyes open, and for fear of tipping off the Preventers, all inquiries were so subtle as to be on the verge of nonexistent. Those two big Runner ships still hadn't been located, though we narrowed it down to eight possibilities based on reports and fuel log-ins at the halfway stations.
Heero was still seeing Rex; I knew it, but I bit my tongue and bore it. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but I swore I wouldn't push him. If they were just meeting for dinner, then I was not going to play the jealous boyfriend. Just the idea of being his boyfriend was enough of a mental leap, sometimes.
I didn't talk to Hilde at night, either, but more and more, I called Heero before I went to sleep, instead. We'd review the day's work and talk about plans for the weekend, or exchange comments regarding any latest idiocy on the late-night news. And then we'd be silent for several minutes, just... I supposed it was just our form of communion, or communication. We'd say goodnight, and hang up.
I wasn't lonely, and I didn't miss Hilde with the gaping wound I'd once had. But a new wound was appearing, every time I watched Heero leave my place, walk down the hall, and down the stairs out of sight. It was small, but it was growing, and although he only lived two floors down and across the street and three floors up... it was getting harder to not be annoyed at that distance. I wanted him back, draped across me, where I could slap him on the ass to wake him up, if he grumbled at me.
And I wanted him in black leather, at my side, with my arm around his waist and a collar on his neck with a big fat sign that said Property of Duo Maxwell. I doubted he'd go for the last part, but I'd settled for the first four: leather, me, arm, collar. I wasn't going to compromise on the leather--that much I knew for sure.
I just had to figure out where to start, and when.
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The blow-up was inevitable, even if I might've been the only one who couldn't see it coming.
There had been casual discussions about Quatrina's Short Stuff Soccer team, and I'd even told Quatre I was pretty sure we'd make it. We'd become a 'we' and I liked using the term, even if I really only practiced it on Relena and Quatre. Then Heero cancelled.
He'd been in a foul mood most of the week, coming out of it only with a great deal of effort, but was reluctant to talk about whatever was bothering him. Short of dragging him back to my place and turning off all the lights--and maybe covering the windows with black sheets in the middle of the day--I couldn't think of a way to pry whatever it was out of him. What he'd said he wanted, he had: my attention. My undivided, nonstop attention--we practically lived together, given we were working in the same office nine to ten hours a day. It was like being with Hilde, in some ways--side-by-side, partners in crime--and I couldn't figure out what his problem was. All that time, and he still didn't talk.
We argued about going to the game. He got distant; I yelled. I ended up storming out of the office at four, and didn't give a damn about the meeting-calls planned, either. Fuck 'em. I called Quatre on the walk home and told him I wouldn't be at the game that evening. Couldn't speak for Heero, and hung up. I didn't want to hear it. I wanted to punch something. We'd been doing so well, and Heero had to go and revert back to his...
Fuck, I am an idiot.
I came to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, nearly getting run over by several people directly behind me who weren't expecting the abrupt stop. It wasn't just that Heero had been in the club scene for his friends, or to find a lover that was for him only. There had been those extra issues of responsibility and control. Issues I'd happily ignored because I was getting what I wanted--a good friend, who was always at my side.
Crap. Shit. Damn it--I wanted to punch myself, instead of some defenseless wall. Shit!
I stormed into my apartment, and through it into my bedroom. I had to act, and fast. Every instinct I had was screaming with the knowledge that I'd unwittingly closed my eyes to Heero's needs, preferring to recreate what I'd lost with Hilde. Damn it!
Twenty minutes, and I'd ripped my bedroom apart. Bed, dismantled, mattress up against the wall. I kept my window open, blinds up, and checked the street regularly for Heero, hoping I didn't miss his return. A half-hour of judicious reconstruction, and I'd rebuilt the metal bed frame into something I could work with. I pushed the dresser into my living room, and rearranged a bit so it didn't look so obtrusive. My bedside table and lamp became a new end table in the living room, and I was left with a closet packed to the ceiling with bedroom odds and ends, and nothing but a large room with a single rug on the floor.
Satisfied, I checked the window again--still no sign of Heero, good--and bolted for the kitchen. Candles, where were they? Dorothy had a thing about candles, and had given me a bunch... I snagged the box, along with the holders, and several boxes of matches. Kitchen implements, and a few new ideas occurred to me. Tablecloth: a soft cottony weave I'd picked up on sale... quickly history. I had a better use for it. One wooden chair, a second one.
I called Heero, but used my cell phone. I didn't want the apartment visible. When he picked up, I was almost surprised that he had, given his distant tone.
"Yuy," he said, as though he could care less.
"You still in the office?" I asked, conversationally. Y'know, like I hadn't just hollered at him to get his head out of his ass only two hours before.
"Yeah. Leaving in a bit." He ground out, "I don't want to go to the soccer game."
"That's cool. I told Quatre already." I pretended to hesitate, pausing just long enough to make him annoyed. "Dorothy's got a date, and wants me to watch Este while Relena and Quatre are at the game. Do you mind coming by to return the videos? They're due tonight, and I won't have a chance to drop them off."
He was silent for a moment; it was a gamble. There was a good chance he'd see no reason I couldn't do it on my way--the video place wasn't much more than a block from our street--but I was betting on him figuring I wouldn't hold a grudge. Or something. I held my breath while I waited.
"Sure. One hour?"
"Great. Thanks. I appreciate it, and I'm sorry about earlier. Guess I lost my temper."
"Yeah."
"So... see you in a bit."
"Yeah." He hung up.
I took a deep breath. My plans could really backfire, or... yes, they'd go well. I wouldn't let it happen any other way. I took another breath, centered myself, and went to wash off the sweat and grease of two hours of rushed preparation.
Twenty minutes later I was out of the shower, toweling my hair roughly before combing out the tangles. I braided it halfway, then wrapped the hair band around it at just below my shoulder blades--that would be enough to make it clear something was different, in case Heero missed the big fat neon sign I'd just made. Same mental neon sign I'd smacked my head on, for that matter.
Leather pants, and the silver mesh top that left little to the imagination--not like tight leather pants really did, either. Black boots. I didn't normally wear shoes while at home, but I had a mission.
It was just after dark when Heero knocked on the door. The apartment was dark but for a candle burning on the beside-table-made-side-table, and six or seven more candles in the bedroom. I left the bedroom door just slightly ajar, and checked the place over one more time before opening the door.
"Duo... " Heero paused, and stared at my shirt, then frowned. "I see your idea of babysitting is not the norm."
"Come on in," I said, opening the door wider. Heero continued to scowl, stepping inside and placing his laptop case on the floor by the door. I closed the door and stepped up behind him, lowering my hands over his eyes. He stiffened, and I leaned forward, whispering in his ear. "It's been too long, Heero. I can feel the tension in you, and it's built to an unbearable level."
He tensed, hands coming up to grasp at my wrists. "Duo, this isn't--"
"It is," I said, and I didn't care what he'd really been about to tell me. I dropped my voice to a throaty murmur, my lips against his ear. "Tell me... do you want to play with me?"
Heero froze, hands on my wrists, but not moving to push me away nor holding me in place. He was silent for a long moment, and I had just begun to think he was going to turn around and slug me--or just stalk out--but there was no going back. I'd said the words. It had taken me almost two months, but I'd said the words. I'd had time to study him, listen to him, get to know him, learn him inside and out, and I was way overdue to use all of it... against him.
I licked his earlobe, and he shuddered.
"Tell me," I coaxed.
He took a deep breath and let it out. "Yes," he replied.
On to Chapter sixteen
Back to chapter fourteen