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 Eighteen
It's funny, sometimes, the things that occur to you in the flash of a second, a heartbeat passing you by. I'd spent my life in heartbeats: theft, stealth, piloting, war, and machinery. All of them were battles. Against darkness, against discovery, against space, against enemies, against the uncaring and disinterested metal that pushed too far would twist back to kick you in the gut and kill you. In that, perhaps, the idea of dominating Heero was just one more battle, but with an enemy who wanted to be beaten--yet the notion hovered there, at the edges of my awareness: if he chose, it would take only one punch, pull back and kick hard, and he could still break me into a thousand pieces.
He paid at the door, accepting the no-drinking bracelets and putting mine on me. When he turned and entered the club a few steps ahead of me, another heartbeat passed: Fenris, by the door, looked down to see the red devil's tail swaying gently behind Heero. I swear, no shit, Fenris cracked a smile. Holy crap, the Living Mountain has a sense of humor.
Inside the double doors, Heero was waiting, and fell into line behind me. Once again I didn't bother to wend my way through the crowd, but headed for the stairs, and let people get out of my way. More heartbeats passed, each with their own moment of recognition.
I could've put little horns on Heero's head, strong-armed him or guilted him or drugged him into wearing a red spandex bodysuit... and it wouldn't matter. He'd still be impervious.
He was moving and feeling and looking like someone you just didn't wanna fuck with--that is, no different from the way he usually acted--and suddenly that devil's tail wasn't funny anymore. It was a warning to those stupid enough to get in his way: not an angel by any stretch, if the glare and the stalk didn't tell you that first.
For a moment I pondered giving one to Relena for her next anniversary... but I wiped my face of the smug grin when I caught Heero arching an eyebrow at me.
Another heartbeat, at the foot of the stairs.
I'd just walked through an entire club, without a jacket, wearing a shirt of holes. And it hadn't occurred to me to be self-conscious about it. I wondered why, while I smiled and greeted Nikki and complimented Cherub on her new shoes that looked remarkably like platform bedroom slippers. Up the stairs, one heartbeat passing into the next.
Heero was wearing a tail, and I'd put it there. One of the most dangerous men in the earth sphere, if not the most dangerous man, and yet he'd chosen to let me do to him how and when I pleased. For perhaps the first time ever, I didn't feel like I needed to drape myself in several layers to protect my space. My space was protected, because no one could get near me without my consent. Look! Look who I frickin' shoved a butt-plug into--if I'm not afraid of him, you wannabe morons don't stand a chance.
I felt as tall as a Gundam, and as powerful... and wondered what the hell I could ever do to repay Heero for the gift he'd given me. I paused at the doorway to the large bar, and studied him for a moment. He'd halted as well, and was watching me from under his eyelashes. I couldn't help it; I leaned forward, and kissed him hard, fast. When I pulled away, he gave me that little smirk that had always been his reaction when we were kids: just a bit of bewilderment as to what had prompted another seemingly unpredictable action, yet amusement at the same time.
"Yeah, I know," I said, and his smirk grew wider. I looked around the bar, seeing Celestina and the Sweeper with her. "Target sighted. Going in."
"Roger," Heero said, under his breath, and we walked into the bar.
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It took ten minutes of jockeying at the bar, with random chatter pretending to catch up. Heero, I noticed, spoke pleasantly with Celestina. He had her laughing at his dry wit about something, and I made a note to ask him later what they'd been discussing. Finally Jack set down his drink and told Celestina to keep an eye on things--he was going to show me the toys he'd picked up on L4.
I shook my head at Heero when he tensed. As much as I would've liked him by my side, he wasn't a Sweeper and hadn't grown to adulthood among them. Jack was either going to tell me what he knew, or he was going to drag me into a dark room and beat the crap out of me. I sized him up, and figured I could do enough damage before Heero came looking. It was a risk I was willing to take.
Inside the main training room, Jack flipped the lights on, revealing the racks of demonstration apparatus and the row of lockers for the club's dominants. He prowled the corners of the room, checking to make sure we were alone, and returned with a grim look.
"I understand you're the one looking for news on Preventer misconduct," he said.
Right to the point. I could respect that. "Yeah."
"They're running drugs between L1 and L4, and dispersing from there."
"Why that connection? Why not distribute from the production site?"
"Draws too much attention to the source." Jack shrugged, and his long dreads rustled with the motion. He was at least a few inches taller than me, and probably a good twenty-five pounds heavier, but he moved like a Sweeper mechanic, not a pilot. He grinned, a little abashed; it transformed the scar and the crooked nose into something charming. "That's my theory, at least."
"You're a Sweeper," I replied, not giving a quarter yet. "What're you doing with Runners?"
"Business dying around L1." Jack scratched his head, and frowned across the room, perhaps lost in bad memories. "Scrap's been cleared from the war, though it took us long enough. And L1 wants manufacturing, not recyc. So we moved along."
"You know anything about some X-jays heading towards L4... about two months ago? Didn't finish their run?"
Jack looked surprised, and nodded. "That was my fourth run, I think. We got a warning ping from the contact point." He frowned. "Using the L1 precinct's in-line frequency."
Holy crap. I'd no idea it was an L1 Preventer frequency they were running on--every precinct and Ring and colony randomly chose whatever frequency it wanted. I'd had no idea... well, damn.
"Yeah," he said, watching my face--dawning comprehension and a bit of shock had to be written all over it, and I let him see it. "That was the first time I found out who we were delivering to. Then I started poking around in what we were delivering."
"Why'd you stay?"
"Good money. Easy job. Pays off debts. And... I know some guys who told me that a Gundam pilot was looking for information on Crow-71. Apparently you're the Shy Lady's old partner."
"That's me." Shy Lady--now that's a nickname I'd not heard in a while, and for a moment I had to breathe through my nose. Hilde was the least shy person anyone knew, and her last name was unspellable, if marginally pronounceable. So naturally the Sweepers... I jerked myself back to the present. "Whaddaya wanna trade?"
"Immunity from an assault case on L1," Jack replied, gaze stern. "I won't go into the details, but everyone involved was to blame. Somehow my team ended up being the only ones tracked."
He got points for not giving me a line about being innocent. "I can't promise immunity. I'm not a Preventer. But I can promise that you will mysteriously disappear from the list of names of those arrested when we do a sweep." At least then any L1 authorities checking the lists wouldn't be alerted as to where he was.
Jack was quiet for a moment; his dark face was impassive while he thought it over before nodding. "Fair enough, but it'd look suspicious--"
"I'll need the names of four other people to also forget," I continued. "Four people who aren't involved, and aren't Running because they like the idea of getting rich offa fuckin' people up. The preliminary info will say you five escaped, and then the records will suddenly be hard to find... if not impossible."
"Deal." Jack shook my hand, then glanced at the clock over the wall. "Gotta get back to my star." He grinned. "I just wanted to get enough money to settle down here. She won't go back to space--hasn't since the war."
I nodded, smiling just a little. I knew what he meant--a lot of people had flipped after that colony ring was destroyed... but I wasn't going to go there. Not then, and not with a stranger. I just let it ride. He gave me information on his next runs, and where and when he'd contact me, and through what lines and using what alias. It only took once, and I had it memorized; he slipped from the room in search of his pretty submissive.
I sighed, straightened my shoulders, and let the battle-mode fall away. Now I had an evening of visiting with Zorya, listening to Flamel, flirting with Sadé--mostly lewd comments about our respective braids--and keeping Heero close enough to grope at random opportunities. I walked with a light step and heart... then got to the bar, and discovered he'd left.
Bastard. What was that about waiting for me?
"Saw him just a minute ago," Zorya said. She leaned against the bar, playing with a rose tucked between her breasts. "Heading down the stairs. Nice tail, by the way."
"You like?" I leered at her. "Goes all the way through."
She purred her appreciation, then leaned up to whisper in my ear. "I think it's a bit more appropriate for you, though, sweetheart."
"Me?" I flashed her a grin. "I'm a perfect angel."
"You're a perfect something." She poked me in the chest. "Go find that man of yours, before he gets into any trouble."
"Only trouble of the best kind," I assured her. Then I headed back down the stairs, as it occurred to me that he might've followed Jack. I'd not seen Celestina in the bar, so Heero might've been... but no, there was Heero.
Dancing.
I was seriously tempted to rub my eyes, because, hello, Heero. Dancing! Then I gave several seconds of thought to finding a dark corner where I could hide long enough to rearrange my dick in these suddenly-too-tight pants because holy shit why hadn't anyone told me that Heero could dance?
Crap. Well. Okay. I can deal. I sat myself down at one of the bar tables, ordered a glass of water, and figured I'd enjoy the show. After all, Duo does not dance. And I certainly didn't dance when the dance floor was full of hot, sweating bodies--well, I wouldn't dance if it were completely empty and no one was around, either. Maybe after six shots I would, but I'd be on the floor in two steps, right after my right foot morphed into a second left foot. I just... I never really danced. Hilde used to make comments about the guys dancing at the clubs she'd drag me to, in the year or two after the war. I'd figured it was safer not to make a fool of myself as well. Besides, that way I was at the table and chatting with friends when she'd come for a break off the floor, and I knew that's what made her happiest.
I sighed, and leaned back, throwing one arm over the back of the chair. Heero had moved from the dance floor--one dark head among many--up onto one of the raised platforms. The music was low, throbbing, a heavy relentless beat--not too fast, nothing too jumpy--more like swaying and dipping. And Heero moved like he didn't care there were six people near him, let alone two hundred, or more. Hell, the lights flashed across his face at one point and I could've sworn his eyes were closed.
The leather jacket flared open and shut with his moves, and I realized he was doing kata. Not quite the graceful open-hand I'd seen Wufei do, or the street-scrapper's telegraphed gestures and sneaky underhanded explosive attacks that I'd learned. Heero's style was angular, closed-fist: deadly, controlled... and graceful because it was all moves that Heero had made completely his own. Each block twist punch was pure Heero; it spoke of nothing so much as satisfaction and pleasure in his own body.
It was amazing to watch, and it was beyond sexy. To call it that would have implied he was doing it to turn on any viewers, and that clearly wasn't his point--hell, he didn't even seem aware of the other people dancing, let alone any audience. He was dancing with a kind of freedom... and I envied that. Perhaps, if I could give him the space to be free of the burdens he'd accepted... perhaps he'd show me how to have the freedom to be so at ease, even half-naked with a damn devil's tail--
"I see you've finally shown your face again," a familiar voice announced, and there ya go: the evening's now perfect.
"Rex," I replied, and before I could sarcastically invite him to sit down--in a tone that'd make it clear I wasn't really interested--hello! I had eye-candy I was busy ogling!--he sat down. Asshole. "Lovely evening," I added, just to get that dose of sarcasm in, anyway.
"Yes. And it doesn't hurt that one of our best dancers has made an appearance again." He smiled across the room at Heero's platform.
I grinned lazily. That would be the outside. Inside, it was mostly annoyed griping. Stop looking at him like he's yours, you bastard. You missed your chance, and I don't fuckin' care if Heero said you were acting with his best interests in mind. But, I just smiled and shrugged. Yeah, look at me, cool and collected and not threatened. Nope. Not me.
"Do you even care, that he's over there, and most of the club is watching him?" Rex frowned at me.
Hunh? Heero was being Heero. No one was about to hurt him, and I didn't see guns anywhere. He was just dancing. What was the big deal about that? He could dance if he...
Oh. Shit, I'd said the rules were for him to stay near me and not leave without asking and return promptly. Why'd he go off on his own, then? What was he playing at? I'd just have to ask him later, I decided. Let him dance and then catch him as he left the floor. I wanted to get up and ask him right away, but I wasn't going to show Rex any weakness, especially not one that involved me fucking up. Not if I could help it.
"Look, kid," Rex said, leaning forward. "I'm going to give you a bit of advice. Heero seems like he's strong and self-confident, but he's just as emotionally sensitive as the next person. And he's proud. You may have finally started dating, but I can tell when he's not happy. And maybe you've been enjoying yourself for the past two months, but he hasn't been."
Okay, now I'm seriously going to punch the guy. I tensed my muscles, sliding my foot off the rung of the stool. Shift the weight, and get ready to shove the table out of the way. One more damn word from--
"It took a year of working with him, before he could scene without struggling, fighting his own instincts. He doesn't trust easy, and from where I stand, all you've done is mess with... "
Rex's words faded, as I caught that one important detail. I grinned, quite smugly, but kept my eyes cold and hard, almost a glare. I caught his reaction--so slight, but there--the minutest flinch. Good enough, because Heero did trust me. He'd not only scened the night before and not given me shit through the entire scene, but we'd practically done so again in the kitchen and there'd been no tying down, no struggles. Maybe a bit of fussing and a handful of scowls, but that was Heero. Even when I knew--and he knew, and knew I knew, too--that he'd submitted, he wasn't going to let me think that was the end of it.
But that was fine by me--I liked him pushing back.
" ...Take him back," Rex finished saying.
I backtracked through his comments, keep my expression perfectly flat, but I didn't hide my annoyance. I just didn't see reason to jump up and punch him. No, I'd rather flay him alive for saying he'd take Heero as his primary submissive. Not after everything I'd done, but before I knew it, Rex was gone--that fuckin' asshole! I came to my feet, looking across the dance floor for a tall man with gray at the temples and a big fat sign over his head that said, 'This man is about to get his ass kicked by Duo Maxwell.'
Hah, assuming Heero didn't beat me to it.
Then I saw Rex standing by the platform. Heero was dancing, red vinyl devil's tail whipping around with a graceful dip, punch, block--then he stopped, saw Rex, and leapt down from the platform. I hesitated. I needed a minute to figure out what I was supposed to do; this went way beyond the simple rules that existed within a scene. Hell, I knew what I would do, but the real question was what Heero would want. I'd stuck a damn buttplug tail on him, and if that didn't set us up as being within a scene, I didn't know what would. So I couldn't treat Rex's behavior without considering that Heero and I were acting on certain rules...
Rules he'd ignored, on top of it all. That bothered me, and it looked like Rex was pushing the issue. Waiting until we had someplace private for me to ask Heero--not as easy to do with Rex looking like he was going to force me to lay my cards on the table.
I halted at the edge of the crowd, stunned to see Heero dancing closely with Rex. Some distant part of my brain registered that Rex's hands were on Heero's waist, not ass, and that Heero's hands were on Rex's chest, not around his neck--and they weren't kissing, though talking very close. For all that, though, they didn't exactly look like 'just friends'.
Calm down, Duo, shit, don't go assaulting people in public. You're not eighteen any more. It's one thing in private for you to maul Heero and make him swear to be yours... Oh, fuck. I wanted to slap myself in the forehead. Well, shit, Heero had said he had a kink of public domination. And that kink meant what was done in private being done in public--to some extent, or at least implied pretty strongly--and that meant my secret little fantasies of stapling a sign to his ass that said: private property...
Not secret, nope. Gonna have to become common knowledge.
I folded back the sleeves on my shirt, old pre-fight habits boiling to the surface. Stalk through the crowd--yeah, if you were frightened by Heero passing you, wait until you get a look of the snarl on my face. Outta my way, I've got a submissive to snag... and then punish. That put a grin on my face--unexpectedly, and that's the honest truth, really--and I covered the last twenty feet with a relentless energy that made the crowd part before me.
"Heero," I barked. Even I wasn't stupid enough to grab him from behind, and the truth was... the honest truth was that there was just the smallest part of me that was terrified. What if this wasn't a game? What if... what if after last night, and all day... I'd screwed up, and he'd rather scene with Rex? What if... and then I saw his face.
Heero'd stepped away from Rex, head down, but his gaze was darting back and forth between us, intent... and hopeful? What the fuck did he want, some kinda freakin' dominant cat-fight?
Yes.
Another heartbeat, and there it was, laid out in perfect understanding. Heero, the assassin's apprentice, taken in as a trainee solely for his strength, his resilience, and his willpower. Thrown towards Earth with only minimal guidelines. Friends found and kept only from comradeship. And after the war? Relena went back to her life, and I went back to mine. A solitary life as a student, with a few lovers here and there, but each one would leave him behind at some point. And even Rex, for over two years, there for Heero but not enough to want Heero for his own.
And it was right there, in Heero's stoic, wary gaze, in a language I'd known since I was fifteen. He wanted someone to want him, enough to make a fuss about it. Put up a fight. Lay claim. Announce to the world once and for all that he wasn't just another tool to be laid aside when his purpose was served.
Between one beat of the song pounding across the dance floor, and the next, I'd done three things. I flipped on the vibrator, grabbed Heero, and snarled at Rex.
"I've had it with the games," I announced, and with Heero's face pressed against my shoulder--he stiffened, and I could feel him fighting off a shudder--I knew Heero could hear me just fine, as much as Rex could. "Heero is mine. He's not to play with you, or scene with you. And right now, I'm not interested in having him dance with you, either." I cupped Heero's ass and pulled him sharply against me, then caught his jaw with one hand and tilted his head up.
I kissed him, long, hard, and deep, but I kept my eyes open and staring at Rex. Go ahead, you asshole, say something. Do something, but it'd better be the right thing because otherwise I'll reach over Heero's shoulder and deck you.
Heero meanwhile, was pawing at me with complete abandon. It was startling, and a bit bewildering. Oh, crap, the vibrator. I fumbled for my pocket and turned it off, and Heero leaned against me, panting heavily. I ran a hand up under the jacket, palm flat against his bare back, and continued staring at Rex.
"I understand," Rex replied, giving me a cocky little bow. "I'll be going along now, and leave you two... "
"Good," I growled, when he didn't move fast enough. His smile faltered, and he backed away before finally walking off. I watched him go with narrowed eyes, then pulled Heero away, holding him by the shoulders. "What happened to the rules we discussed?"
Heero jutted his lower lip, and didn't answer.
"Damn it, I'm not a mind reader," I snapped. "I'm willing to do a lot of things to make you happy, and I'll play any--"
"Was that what it was?" He'd gone stiff in my arms, and he didn't bother yelling. He moved his lips, knowing I could read them--but his expression said a great deal more. Unhappy, doubtful, maybe... miserable? It was there in the slight downturn of the lips, the line between the brows...
"It's not a game," I said, at a loss.
All my years of pretending I didn't care, practicing the lazy smiles, the knowing cynicism, and I could only go so far. I couldn't strip them all off and remind Heero of me--not when we were surrounded by a packed club of half-drunken revelers. I looked around, frustrated, then remembered where I was.
"Come on," I ordered. I let go of him, with one last warning: "I'll show you it's not a game, but on my terms. If you can live with that--"
He narrowed his eyes, and nodded, a distinctly guarded expression, though. He wasn't agreeing to accept them, but he was willing to hear them. I turned on my heel, and he followed, skirting the dance floor and heading up the steps. At the counter, I checked the list of available rooms, and signed us into one of the smaller ones. It had the basics, and the equipment wasn't top rate, but--
"We can use this room," Heero said, very quietly, behind me. He pointed to the third room on the chart: available, and right next to the lockers for the club dominants. "My... my stuff is in locker fifty-seven."
Yeah, that was definitely a frisson of excitement shooting up my spine, and I think it all ended in my cock. I switched the sign-in, thanked the young man, and took off down the hallway. Heero kept up easily, and I know we both exuded danger--but I could feel that same relieved anticipation coming from him. A part of me felt manipulated, annoyed, but a part of me just sighed and knew it probably wouldn't have worked any other way. If Heero had told me what to do outright, I probably would've balked. I've never been very good at taking direction; he gave me enough grief as a kid about that. I always had to figure things out for myself.
Well, looked like Heero knew me as well--if not better--than I knew him, sometimes. I retrieved his bag from his locker, and motioned for him to lead the way into the room. He stepped in ahead of me. I dropped the bag by the door and caught him by the elbows.
"You left without telling me where you were going," I spat in his ear, over his shoulder. "You didn't return promptly. I won't have you wandering through the club without telling me what you're up to. If we're out together, you're sticking by my side. You're here with me, not some bunch of strangers dancing and not some other dominant." I dropped my voice to a furious whisper, amazed at the fact that I did feel such anger--and no small amount of hurt, a delayed appearance after admitting my private fears. "Are we... perfectly... clear?"
"Yes."
I couldn't help it. He'd pushed me. I wanted to push back. "Yes what?"
"Yes... Dao."
I blinked, not sure how I would've reacted had he called me Master. All I did know was that my dick couldn't get much harder, and I wasn't entirely sure why. I let go of him and locked the door, setting the room sign to occupied. Then I walked him over to the horse, leaning him over so his hands rested on the smooth leather.
"Don't move," I ordered, and unscrewed the tail. I yanked down the pants to around his thighs, and massaged his ass for a few seconds before coming to a decision. "Fifteen smacks for leaving without asking permission, and twenty for not coming back right away."
Heero's head came up, and he twisted to look over his shoulder with a shocked expression.
"And five for every word you utter that isn't a number," I added, just to be a smartass. I knew he could handle the pain. That wasn't the point; in Heero's scheme of things, thirty-five smacks on the ass with anything short of a beam whip was pretty much a yawner. But it'd still sting, and it'd still be tender for a bit--and I wanted him walking funny and sitting gingerly when we went to the piano bar. I wanted every dominant there to know he'd been corrected, and that we were still together. That's what I really wanted: for them to see that I could do this, that Heero not only let me me, but wanted it, and that this was...
Enough! I brought my hand down on his right ass-cheek, and the slap was loud in the room.
"One," Heero said, rocking forward a little from the blow.
I did it again.
"Two... "
At eight strikes, I switched to my left hand for the next seven, while I flexed my right hand to get feeling back into it. Was there anywhere on his body that wasn't solid muscle? Fifteen strikes, and I could feel the vibration up to my shoulders from every smack. Crap... ah, the bag. Took me two steps to get to it, a few seconds to dig through it, and I came back, whipping the cane in the air, getting a feeling for the spring.
"Tell me again what those first fifteen strikes were for."
"Leaving... " He took a deep, ragged breath. "... Without permission."
"Correct. Planning on doing it again?"
He shook his head frantically.
"Now, twenty. And these are for... "
"Not... coming... back... promptly." He swayed, and I could see the muscles tensing, preparing himself.
"Keep counting," I reminded him, and laid the cane straight across the curve where the top of his thigh met the underside of his ass.
"One," he gasped, fingers white-knuckling on the leather.
At fifteen, I paused to run my hand across his skin, striped in angry red. He shivered when I stroked each welt, following the lines with my fingers, then pressing my palm to the heat radiating off his ass and thighs. Somewhere, between the whistling lash and his choked words, counting out the numbers, I'd realized what I needed to say. I set down the crop, and guided him to stand. His face was set, eyes shut tight, and he didn't look even remotely ridiculous with his pants around his knees, not like I would've in his place, I'm sure. No, he looked totally vulnerable, exposed.
"Heero," I said, sighing. "I want to be possessive like you want me to. But... it's hard. It's hard because when we're in public, I don't want to impose on you, on your space, your rights... whatever it is. Possessive, to me, means a bit of... I guess, kinda telling you what you can and can't do, like I would drive a car, and expect it to only do what I want and stay where I parked it until I come back. And... " I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes against his puzzled, curious expression. "I... I want to be whatever you want, but sometimes I get scared that if I said in public that you're mine--like I did to Rex--and if you said no, you weren't... it'd just... " I dropped my hands, and crossed my arms, feeling the oddest urge to cover my face. "It'd do me in. I... you... if you changed your mind, I don't think I... "
He fell forward the half-foot, against me, his arms around me, his face against my neck. I froze, then carefully untangled my arms to hug him back. We didn't say anything, and after a moment, I let out a deep, long breath, feeling both relieved and unbelievably... crap, there's just not a word. Content, maybe? Like he'd just said a hundred words I needed, but didn't have to say any of them. It was all there, and for once... I could let it be, too.
After a minute I helped him upright--he'd not moved his feet, but simply fallen against me, and wasn't that an indication of trust, too, that he just trusted I'd catch him? I gave him a smile and tried to ignore that my eyes were stinging.
"I guess if we've got that--"
"No," he said, abruptly, and turned to pick up the crop. He handed it to me, with a shy smile on his face, almost embarrassed. "I'd rather... I'd rather you finish it."
"Heero, you don't--"
"You do." He gave me the oddest look, then turned around, leaning over with his hands on the horse, ass presented to me.
I stared for a long moment, trying to understand how it worked, and why... and then decided perhaps I could leave some things to figure out later. What I thought about it maybe didn't matter, if it was something Heero wanted. I'd promised I'd be the bastard that he wanted... and now he was telling me out-right exactly what he wanted, needed, all that crazy stuff. Did I trust him? Yes. So maybe I should trust him also to know what he wanted. I took a deep breath, and waited, watching the skin quiver across his back and ass.
I waited, until Heero sighed deeply, relaxing.
Then I struck. The energy was back, unexpectedly, heart pounding, blood rushing in my ears. Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. I dropped the crop, raised Heero up, and spun him around, hugging him tightly. I hadn't heard a sound from him, but his face was wet and it scared me.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, lowering us both to the floor, with him on my lap. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you... "
"Duo," Heero said, in a breathless laughing voice, "you've shot me twice, and now you think some little stick is going to hurt me?"
"Okay, when you put it that way, it sounds stupid," I groused, "but still... "
"Shut up, Duo. It was good." He was quiet for a moment, his face buried against my neck, and then he added, in a very small voice: "I liked it."
I smiled and kissed his temple, smoothing back his hair. If he liked it, and it pleased him, that was good enough for me. We stayed there for a long time, until someone knocked softly on the door--our five-minute warning. I helped Heero to his feet, pulled up the leather pants, and reattached the tail despite his grumpy expression at that detail.
"I like the tail on you," I said, and was rewarded with the most amazingly beautiful smile. It faded just as quickly, though.
"I don't... " He frowned, twisting to catch the tail in his hands while I picked up his bag. "I mean... "
"You don't look silly," I replied, not sure if that's what he meant but knowing that would be my fear, in his place. "I don't think you're capable of that." And then I grinned, sly, unable to stop myself. "Besides, what's a tail compared to the fact that you've got no hair on your body?"
Heero growled, and I laughed, escorting him from the room. He was never going to be perfectly pliable, I suspected. But maybe that was half the fun... besides, his glares could intimidate anyone from experienced generals down to little clubbers--but not me. No, I just laughed, flipped the vibrator on, and enjoyed the results. After all, that glare didn't stay for long when we were too busy making out in the hallway.
On to Chapter nineteen
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