Gundam Wing, 1+2, implied 3+4, R
Warnings : None
Disclaimer : Mine? I wish.
It was Christmas Eve and Heero Yuy sat and watched Duo Maxwell play games for over an hour. Well, he got up from the couch beside him a couple of times, just to fetch beer and sandwiches, and then he cleared the plates away after they’d consumed it all. Oh, and he answered the ‘phone once when Quatre called. His other friend gabbled something about staying out that night, he'd have to catch up with them both tomorrow morning, he and Trowa were watching a movie marathon and he’d just be too late and too tired to drive back –
Something like that. Heero wasn’t really listening. He knew Quatre and Trowa were dating, and pretty seriously, so Quatre didn’t need to pretend to Heero that they were just friends. If Heero had appetite for imagination, he’d have been imagining just what kind of marathon his friends were really enjoying.
But he didn’t bother. His appetite was for watching, instead. Watching Duo. The way his friend hunched possessively over the console; the way his fingers barely moved but covered all controls with ease; the way his face shone with the reflection from the screen and the fast moving characters. Heero especially liked it when he made sounds – when he talked back to the game, berating the scenarios chosen for him; huffing with frustration when his shortcuts failed; whooping with triumph when the levels were met and conquered. Heero liked that look on Duo. The conquering look.
Duo's lounge was decked out with its Christmas decorations, garish and glittering, preparing enthusiastically for the day ahead. Heero compared it with his own sparse apartment - a few cards, the occasional Santa ornament that Duo had insisted he host. He liked to look around; he was comfortable here, despite the occasional assault on his more modest senses. But his eyes always returned to Duo.
When the evening had seeped into night, he hadn’t bothered to turn on the main light in the lounge because he could see Duo well enough by the light of the screen and the blinking Christmas lights on the small evergreen tree. The view was atmospheric in a way that both intrigued and stimulated him.
He picked up a slim parcel that lay on the table at the side of the couch. It was wrapped in gaudy Christmas paper, with a label twisted under the shiny ribbon. He didn’t think Duo had noticed it yet; maybe he’d interrupt him at some convenient time in the next hour. Heero didn’t mind waiting.
“Who’s it for?” Duo’s voice broke into his thoughts, a warm breathlessness in his tone.
Heero started slightly. “The gift? It's for you.”
Duo paused, the game frozen on screen. He turned slowly to look at the man beside him. “From you? It’s not Christmas yet.”
Heero shrugged. He liked to watch Duo’s pupils as the dilation gently faded – as his mind returned to the real world of the lounge. “It’s not from me, I’m afraid. It just arrived today, I assumed it was delivered in the post or Quatre brought it in before he went out for the night. But it’s not from him, either.”
Duo was staring back at him, his eyes warm with the diffused light, his mouth wide with a generous grin. Heero was always surprised that his friend gave him the same full attention as the precious games; he assumed his own entertainment value was so very much less rewarding.
“So – some kind of Secret Santa gift, then?” Duo laughed: a rich, seductive sound. Heero found himself smiling back. It was like sinking into something warm and bubbling, something that tugged at the pit of his groin and promised amusement beyond humour.
“I don’t know,” Heero replied. “I don’t really understand the concept of that.”
Duo laughed again, and stretched his arms above his head. He yawned. Heero watched Duo's throat bob as he swallowed; watched the clench of muscle along the inside of his arm. His friend leant back on his hands, the console resting idly on his lap.
“The game isn’t finished,” Heero noted.
Duo nodded and smiled. “You know it better than I do. Why don’t you ever play?”
Heero shrugged. Duo’s eyes flickered over him like the martial arts figures had darted across screen only moments ago. “It’s not my kind of thing. I like to watch you play, instead.”
“Why?” Duo seemed genuinely interested.
Heero paused, then found words to weave around his feelings. Duo asked this of him, sometimes. “You’re exhilarated; enthralled. Your body is a blur of energy yet it’s coiled with tension into one single place, one solitary position. Your mind is absorbed into a fantastic realm of aggression and power, both sought and abused, yet you can return to reality in a second.”
Heero saw Duo watching his mouth, as if memorising his words, or maybe turning them over to see how they might feel in his own mouth. Words from Duo were sweetmeats; candies; treasures. Heero felt proud whenever Duo returned his words with his own.
“You’re right,” murmured Duo. “It’s my escape. It enthrals me: exhilarates me, like you say.” He leaned towards Heero and lifted the gift from his hands. His eyes darted to Heero's face then away again. Heero saw the mischief in them. “It excites me, too. You know that?”
“Yes, I know that.” Heero was close enough to see the bead of sweat at the base of Duo’s throat. His friend’s lips were moist from regular licking and laughing. When Duo leant in further against him, Heero felt his vision slip askew.
“It makes my heart race,” whispered Duo. His mouth was close to Heero’s ear now. “It makes my muscles ache with tension. It makes my dick throb with a frustrated thrill. How the hell can I play on like this…?”
Heero swallowed. “You're far away in your fantastic realm…”
“…that I return from in a second, you said,” countered Duo. Heero thought he felt Duo’s tongue swipe roughly against his earlobe. He couldn’t be sure. “Return to you,” was the hiss in his ear. "Soon be time for us to exchange our own Christmas presents, right? I think this year we might find some new gifts from each other. If you're willing, that is..." Heero knew he wasn't expected to answer, but he smiled with a slow, deep pleasure. Desire shuddered like hot, icy fingers down his spine.
He had waited a long, long time for the right invitation from Duo Maxwell. He didn't ever expect it - but he'd hoped, waiting with a careful and caring constancy. Duo had always needed time to find his way; to give his truest affection.
A rustle of paper alerted him to Duo opening his mystery gift. He glanced down and saw the disc case in Duo’s hand. “Is it a game?”
“Is it a game?” echoed Duo, faintly. His body was suddenly very still. “Are you sure this isn’t from you?”
Heero saw the dilation return to Duo’s pupils; saw the tightening of his fingers across the red lettering on the case. “I wish it were. It’s something you wanted?”
“Yes.” Duo’s voice sounded hoarse. “Very much. It’s new. It’s… prized.”
Heero knew the signs. He’d watched them on so many nights. “You want to play,” he said. It was a statement, not a question. “Now.”
Duo gave a small hiss, distress and desire mingling equally. “Yes.”
Heero sighed, softly. He wasn’t upset. “Secret Santa knew what you wanted – what would enthrall you.”
“And excite me,” said Duo. “I meant what I said about that.” The words were thickening in his throat and his hand moved almost instinctively to re-establish contact with the console. But his eyes still lingered on Heero’s mouth, his link maintained with the man rather than the magic. “But it's not the only thing that excites me, Heero Yuy. Do you believe that?"
Heero nodded. Of course he did.
"When I return from my fantastic realm…” Duo pleaded, softly.
"I'll be here." Heero sighed contentedly. Some things shouldn't be rushed; anticipation should be savoured. An invitation was just the beginning, after all.
He settled back into the couch and watched the screen sparkle back into life. He smiled to himself. A Hero of Time was worth both playing and waiting for.
And one thing he knew he could do well was wait.