Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, wish I did, just enjoy writing about ‘em for free etc
Pairings: 1x2x3x4x5
Category: AU, romance
Warnings: Yaoi, lemon
Spoilers: None
Notes:
Feedback: If you liked it, PLEASE let me know!
The morning arrived, with a sharp, bright sunlight,
that promised as hot a day as before. In
room 6, two naked bodies lay casually together on the bed, sheet thrown off in
the night. The dark-haired young man lay
curled around a thick pillow, clutched to his chest. The chestnut-haired man lay stretched out, on
his back, staring at the ceiling. There
was a jar that may once have been full of soft, lubricating gel, rolled
half-empty on to the floor. A desert
bird screeched once as it passed overhead – there was the soft hitch and rumble
of an air conditioning system starting up.
Though it was unlikely to be equal to the task of this weather. There may have been the soft sounds of bare
feet on the corridor outside the room.
Trowa didn’t hear them. He slipped his feet over the side of the bed,
and stretched. His muscles ached. The result of several days scrunched up in a
battered old car, he guessed. Then he
felt the warm, regular breath on his hip, and he turned back to look down on
the man sleeping beside him. He
smiled. Guess the extra exercise might
be to blame, as well!
Heero had been a revelation! He had never known his companion was so
uninhibited – so eager for sex. And so
willing to try something new. Or some things…
mused Trowa. His face grew hot at
the memories. There’d been the first,
hot, fierce time. Then more caresses –
more stimulation. More penetration, of
an ass now stretched and eased with the silky, sticky remnants of his own
cum. More, gasping, astonishing
climaxes. And then some more… His
early morning erection twitched its approval.
And perhaps its greed…
Trowa reckoned he had a healthy enough libido for a
young man, but he’d never felt quite so rampant before. It felt as if the heat were crawling through
his very skin, and not just from the sun, sneaking through the shutters. He felt the blood throbbing through his
veins; the lust lingering in his tired limbs.
He teased at his rigid cock, torn between calming it down, and giving in
to its demands. It was still a little
sticky, with crusty white trails…he eased some trapped hairs out from the
foreskin.
With a sigh, he saw that Heero was still deeply
asleep. He’d not disturb him yet. Anyway, he ought to go and check out the car,
see what state it was in to get them going again this morning. Then he’d find some coffee, or breakfast, and
bring it back for them both.
His stomach rumbled, with the thought of
breakfast. He realised with some
distraction that he had other appetites just as ravenous as his lust. And ones that were more easily attended
to! There would be breakfast here,
surely – as there had been supper, the night before. Prepared by the astonishing, yet obviously
talented Wufei. He remembered the taste
of the food, sharp and exciting on his tongue.
It had been very good…
He reached for his clothes to get dressed.
*
Trowa folded himself out of the car, and slammed the
door shut. The hinges creaked. The metal was already beginning to heat up in
the sun, and his fingertips smarted from the touch. He wished, not for the
first time, that he swore with the same ease as Heero. The situation called for it! He fumbled under the hood, and wrenched it
up. He stared at the engine like it was
gonna cry ‘good morning’ to him, and diagnose what the trouble was itself. He prodded experimentally at some of the
grime-encrusted workings. Or not workings,
as the case may be. He wondered if Heero
knew anything about cars. He was
beginning to realise that there were more things he didn’t know about
his lover than the things that he did.
Wufei stood at the main door to the motel, leant
slightly against the post. He held a
couple of boxes of eggs, presumably on his way into the kitchen. Trowa hadn’t seen him appear, but then, he’d
not been concentrating on anything but his frustration.
“Trouble?”
“Damn car won’t start!” snapped Trowa. He reckoned he needed someone to sound off
to. Didn’t have Heero here, taking his
share of the hassle, did he? “It was on
its last legs when we arrived, and it looks like they’ve given way as
well. Not a murmur – it won’t even turn
over.”
“I’ll have a look,” said Wufei. His voice was calm, and authoritative. He put down the boxes on the step and came
over to stand beside Trowa. He had a
cool, morning smell about him; like he’d just washed. Like he wore a light cologne, and it was
still fresh from application. Trowa
tried to ignore it – he was worrying about the car, wasn’t he?
Wufei bent over the engine, and reached confidently
for a fixture – he twisted it. Sighed,
when it wouldn’t move. He straightened
up, and squinted at the sun climbing above them. Then his eyes plunged back down quickly, and
caught Trowa gazing at him. Trowa
blushed. Wufei just smiled. Without a word, he reached for the hem of his
tunic top, and peeled it easily up over his head and off his body. He was half-naked now, and Trowa couldn’t
stop himself from staring. Above the
pair of them, the sky was a pale blue with the morning light. There was a sudden, pregnant silence. Wufei’s skin was darker than Quatre’s –
nearer to Heero’s tone. A line around
his neck of emerging sweat drops shone with a sharp reflection; the muscles of
his torso rippled with his movement.
Trowa noticed the unusually dark pigment and size of his nipples. He also noticed the ache in his groin – his
morning hunger was being piqued beyond food.
He wished he’d woken Heero, after all, and claimed some relief…
What the hell was he going on about? he berated
himself. One sex-filled night, and he
was obsessed by the whole thing! He
shook his head slightly, to break the tension.
“Ah – it’s OK, I can call a mechanic –“ he
began. He didn’t want to move away and
look rude – but Wufei’s hip was pressing against his, as they stood together at
the car. Wufei had bent again, to look
around the engine. Trowa couldn’t help
but admire the obviously knowledgeable way that he knew his way around a
car. He also saw the waist of Wufei’s
pants slip down a little, showing the shallow dip at the base of his spine,
before it curved into the cheeks of his ass.
That dip was one of the most sensual things he’d ever seen. He felt a lot hotter.
“Distributor seized,” said Wufei.
“Wha -?”
“It’s seized.
No spark. It’ll not run without
repair – without a new distributor.”
Wufei’s voice was a calm monotone.
He stretched back up, and twisted his shoulders to loosen the
muscles. Then he turned suddenly, and
his hand grasped Trowa’s wrist. He leaned
down a little, for he was a good four inches taller. “Nothing will run without a spark,” he
murmured. His tone was richer, now –
much smoother. The sound rolled
lasciviously from his lips. A smile
teased at the corners of his mouth.
“Let me go –“ gasped Trowa.
Wufei let go of his hand, with a laugh. “You’re covered in oil, like me. We’ll clean ourselves off in the kitchen.”
“Ahh.. no, I’ll go back to the room…”
“In the kitchen,” repeated Wufei. His dark eyes fixed on Trowa’s, and they were
like deep pools of command. Trowa felt
the Presence tighten its coil in the pit of his stomach; felt it lick at his
balls.
He was suddenly, irrationally scared. Scared at what was inside him, apparently
beyond his control.
Then he was angry with himself, for being so
fanciful. So stupid! It was the
heat again – he was hungry. The man was
only trying to help…!
“Sure,” he said, looking down at the stripes of black
on his hands and arms – a smudge across his tee shirt. The pungent smell of motor oil was suddenly
very vivid to him. “Sure – lead the
way.”
*
Trowa had peeled his own shirt off, and they’d both
cleaned up in the big enamel sink of the kitchen. He was relieved to see that he’d been right –
there was a breakfast being prepared.
He could smell the cooking bacon; see the breaths of smoke rising from
the pan on the hob. His mouth filled
with saliva at the smell alone. He
wandered over to look, and forgot to put his shirt back on. Or so he would have justified it.
“Are there other guests staying here, Wufei?”
The other man smiled slowly at him. He, also, remained shirtless. “There’s plenty of room here, Trowa. Though others will come. But not today. This is for you.”
Trowa spun round to stare at him. The tone had been…odd… “Me?”
Wufei shrugged.
He moved beside him; he appeared to be busy at the hob. “You – and your companion. Pass me the eggs, please.”
Trowa went to the tray of eggs, and passed over a
couple to Wufei’s outstretched hand.
Trowa’s eyes were drawn to the ripple of muscles along his chest. He really was built most splendidly. Arms that looked like they could lift
anything – anyone. Yet Trowa knew
his touch could be gentle, if he chose.
The way he took the eggs – so carefully.
Cradled them… Unbidden thoughts of being in Wufei’s hands flooded
Trowa’s mind. Thoughts that made him
flush, even beyond the aromatic warmth of the kitchen.
He shook his head, angry at himself. Everything seemed to be sexual to him this
morning!
“Where can we get a replacement distributor, then?”
he asked. “How far into the next
town?” He wondered where they kept their
own vehicles. They’d have something,
wouldn’t they?
“A guy will be out with supplies later in the week,”
replied Wufei. He cracked an egg
sharply, on the edge of the pan. It
hissed as it fell into the hot oil.
“He’ll take your order.”
“But don’t you have a car we could borrow? Or a phone, to call up a local mechanic -?”
“No car. No
phone,” said Wufei.
“No phone?” said Trowa, incredulously. “No
phone? How do you manage? How do you
get in contact with the town?”
Wufei shrugged. “Maxwell deals with it all. We don’t need anything else. The guy will come, and we’ll tell him to find
what you need, and that’ll be that.”
“This is ridiculous -!”
spluttered Trowa. A trickle of the fear
was back, spitting heat around him, mimicking the fried eggs, cooking in the
pan.
Wufei turned and stared at
him again. He looked amused again, as
well. “Don’t you have a cell?”
Trowa flushed. “The battery’s dead. Has been for a day or so. I didn’t bring a charger.” He didn’t have to justify himself to this guy
like this -!
“You left in a rush,”
stated Wufei. “You were too eager to
leave it all behind. You didn’t think
where you might be headed to. Life needs
commitment to both, Trowa.”
Trowa was shocked at the
man’s nerve. He was just a member of
staff here, wasn’t he? Just because he
was damn right -!
“Look…” he began. “It’s – it’s awkward. Y’see, we don’t have much money left to pay
for the room. We never thought we’d be
stuck here for more than a day – two at the most. We were heading for the city – we were gonna
get jobs, and a place of our own. Pay
our way then.”
Wufei was smiling at him, in that slow,
self-confident way that – just this morning – was beginning to irritate the
hell out of Trowa. He turned away from
the cooker, and with a studied, graceful ease, he stretched his arms up above
his head, lacing his hands together; popping the joints of his fingers. He waited until he knew that Trowa was looking
at the softer, paler underside of his arms, and the glistening trail of sweat
in the hollows by his neck, and then he spoke.
“That’s fine.
We will wait. You’ll pay your
way.”
“I mean – we will do that,” Trowa rushed
on.
“Yes,” said Wufei, firmly, still with that knowing,
half-smile. “I said you will. There’s plenty of room here, I just told
you. Just relax.”
Trowa’s eyes narrowed. Relax… He thought of Heero, lying back
in the room, dozing. There was something
dreadfully indolent about everything here.
He felt it himself – the seductive lassitude. No phones… no cars….
“As soon as we get a job…” he finished, rather
lamely. He resented having to be like
this; he felt at the mercy of this man.
This gorgeous, sensual man, who appeared totally calm in the face of
anything; who had the superb physical condition of an artisan, but apparently
the creative talents of an artist.
“A job,” mused Wufei.
His eyes held Trowa’s until he flushed under his gaze. “You could do
some work here for us, if you like.”
It sounded a good idea, Trowa thought. It would help pay off their expenses here,
and keep them busy until the repair guy turned up. But what would they do -?
Wufei read his next question as if he’d spoken it
aloud. “Quatre needs help fixing the
fencing, and things around the building; Heero could help him. And you could help me in the kitchen.”
“What – will I do?”
Trowa laughed, a little too loudly; too falsely. “I can’t cook, I don’t think.” He’d just been told that there were no other
guests – there were no other vehicles in the yard. What the hell kept these guys busy all day?
Wufei stepped away from the counter, leaving the eggs
popping quietly under a low heat. He
stretched out his hand – the hand that had held the eggs safe; the hand that
had cracked them firmly against the metal of the pan…and he took hold of
Trowa’s arm. “What does it matter to
you? You just want to be with me.”
“Wha -?” protested Trowa. His body felt on fire; the dark-skinned man
held him too tightly to pull away – yet not hard enough to hurt. Not yet...
Why did that thought thrill him, rather than terrify?
His words were stuttering. “Look - I guess we could stay another
day. I guess I could help out here. But – ah – when will the guy be out here next?”
Wufei took just a single step – but now he was up
against Trowa’s chest, the hot, strong torso against his own slimmer, shivering
one. Wufei’s skin was a hair’s breadth
away. A thin trail of sweat ran down
from a nipple – Trowa fought the almost irresistible desire to bend his head
and lick at it…
“He’ll come when he wants. He’ll take the time he takes.”
Huh? thought Trowa.
That was no answer at all. And he
watched as something that looked like his own hand reached out and laid its
palm flat on Wufei’s chest. The skin was
almost hairless; he could feel the beat of the other man’s heart under the
sharp plane of his ribs. Wufei drew in a
deep breath – under his fingertips, Trowa felt his lungs move in and out.
“So will you, Trowa, won’t you? Take the time you take. Take whatever you will…”
How could such a simple conversation be so charged?
thought Trowa. He felt as if his hand
were fused on to Wufei’s body. He wanted
it to stay there indefinitely – to caress that hot skin. To slide down slowly; to trace out each
well-defined muscle. To reach for the
stomach; touch the groin. Twist the
curling hairs around his fingers – take the rearing cock into his fist -
“Take me…” whispered Wufei’s voice, though Trowa
couldn’t see his mouth moving. And now
he listened more closely, he wasn’t sure it was Wufei’s voice at all. He just felt the beat of Wufei’s heart, and
the quickening of his breath on Trowa’s neck, and the strange, silent words…
“Take… take…”
He wrenched his hand away
as if it were in a lion’s mouth. He saw
Wufei’s eyes widen. Then he saw nothing,
except for his own feet, as he turned and stumbled out of the kitchen.
There was something in his
way as he made for the door – not a person – but not a shadow, either. Something as tall as he was – with the smell
of man, and the touch of skin, as he lurched against it. He jerked away, and twisted past, blind to
its form.
He just knew that it was
something to do with the Presence.
And was therefore to be
feared.
*
“He likes you,” smiled Quatre. “The dark one. He wants you, badly.”
“Of course,” said Wufei. It didn’t seem to bother him. He stood at the cooker, stirring a pot of
beans; adding some sauce and seasoning.
“Your recipes are as persuasive as always,” murmured
Quatre. He was sat up on the worktop,
beside the cooker, legs swinging gently.
Tap, tap – his bare heels drummed a slow tattoo against the wooden doors
of the cupboards. He wore his ubiquitous
shorts, but no shirt this morning. His
hair was attractively mussed, as if he’d combed it carefully, but then run his
hands wildly through it. He dipped a
finger in the pot on the hob, and dragged it out slowly. The thick, rich sauce dripped down from his
fingertip – a single, pale red bean hung from his skin. He lifted his hand, and caught the globule of
food on his outstretched tongue.
Wufei was watching him. He put down the spoon. Quatre stared back. He poked his wet finger into his mouth, and
slurped the rest of the sauce off noisily.
“Tastes good… and full of what you do best,
Wufei…sauce and seasoning…”
He said no more.
Wufei’s hands were on his shoulders, pushing him none too gently, back
down on to the tiled counter. He stood
over the blond boy, as Quatre wriggled to get comfortable, his head up against
the wall, his legs still hanging over the rim.
His chest was heaving a little more noticeably than before.
“He’ll go back to his companion, you know.”
“I know. He
cares for him. Or thinks he does.” He tugged at the shorts the blond boy was
wearing – Quatre sighed as they dropped off his ankles, and his exposed cock
sprang quickly to attention. A single
drop of pre-cum oozed softly on to his stomach, and his muscles shivered in
reaction.
“Maxwell’s here,” he whispered.
Wufei smiled.
“Maxwell…” he called, softly.
“Duo Maxwell – join us now! He’s
ripe for us; the dark one. He thinks
he’s in control…”
“In control of nothing!” broke in the third
voice. And this time, the speaker
stepped into full view of the kitchen.
It was as if the air rushed suddenly into a gap,
seeking to fill it; as if the temperature of the room shook with fear, torn
between rising suddenly or plunging down to an icy cold. There was no kitchen at all; there was no
ground underneath them. Just the man at
the door. A tall, slender, well muscled
man. Sharp, sapphire blue eyes; wide,
sensual lips. A look of complete
confidence – almost arrogance. Long,
dark hair, the colour of a wild animal’s soft-harsh pelt. Braided behind him, like a girl’s. Swinging behind him, teasing at his ass. Shouting out his singularity like a town
crier. Not that either of the men in the
kitchen doubted that. Nor his
superiority over them. Their bodies
tensed – the blood coursed more fiercely in their veins. Their pulses rose many beats – and whether
from excitement or fear, they couldn’t have said. Inevitably, it was from a mixture of
both. Neither of them could have told
you how the man dressed – if, indeed, he was dressed at all. It didn’t matter to anyone. And certainly not him.
Wufei smiled; an expression of pure pleasure. He lifted the boy’s legs on to his shoulders,
gripping his hips with his large, strong hands.
Quatre whimpered encouragement.
The man didn’t speak, but Wufei looked to the far side of the kitchen,
and acknowledged some kind of message; his mouth twitched in the smallest of
satisfied smiles, and he inclined his head as if to accept orders.
“For the dark one, my twisted master…” he
whispered. “Watch me…” He shifted
Quatre’s legs wider, exposing his white, shining flesh, and the long, slim
cock, dark with its eagerness, rising out of the blond nest of hair. Then he pulled his own pants down to his
hips, and pressed firmly into the boy beneath him.
There was a cry of pleasure, and a grunt of lust
surrendered to.
“It’s good,” murmured Maxwell. His hand stroked gently at his groin, in the
same rhythm as Wufei’s thrusts. “The
dark one is good. He will be
good. But the other – he is sweet beyond
my desires. My imagination. My dreams.”
Quatre’s moans grew louder. “Maxwell…!” he gasped. “Duo…touch me –“
The braided man moved towards them, and stood behind
Wufei’s jerking body. He slipped a hand
around the dark-haired man’s waist. His
body moved gently, in mimicry of Wufei’s fucking. They moved together, as if they both fucked
Quatre’s open, begging body, thrusting into him together. Wufei leant back lightly, and brushed his ass
against Maxwell’s groin.
“He’s been taken only by the one. But he’s still waiting for his true
one. It makes him…” Duo Maxwell sighed,
and his forehead temporarily furrowed.
“It makes him more difficult to see.
I don’t understand that…”
Wufei was grunting – his climax was approaching. Duo stretched his arm further around the
front of his sweating body, and grasped Quatre’s straining cock. At the same time, he slipped the other hand
down into Wufei’s pants, and cupped his ass, pinching at the narrow channel
between his cheeks. His fingers found
the soft bed behind the balls with unerring accuracy – and probed confidently
at the tight hole behind, tempting it to flex and pucker up, begging for
more. Wufei groaned at the touch.
“The dark one cares for him,” mused Duo. “If either of them know what that means…He
wants to possess him. But he’s not
anyone’s to possess!”
Wufei shuddered, and his thrusts became fast and
shallow, stimulated not only by fucking Quatre, but by the assured hand at his
asshole. It was enough to tip him over
the edge. He grunted, bent double as his
cock leapt inside the boy underneath him, and his seed spewed out into his
tight channel. Quatre writhed under him,
legs spread wide and straining to reach around the broad torso, and he wailed
as the pressure of the third man’s hand on his shaft increased.
“Duo – harder – please, harder –“, and he
moaned, clutching at Wufei as his climax dragged at his balls, and burst the
boundaries of his tortured cock, crushed between them. Duo withdrew his hand, just as the seed began
to spurt out. It came out like a geyser,
coating both stomachs, as Wufei still lay panting on top of him. Quatre made sounds like soft sobs. Perhaps that’s what they truly were.
“Not anyone’s to possess. Right?” repeated Maxwell. He lifted his hands from the other two, and
stepped away, as if he were removing his very presence from the world. Wufei felt the chill at his back – Quatre the
cooling stickiness of an ecstasy now gone, and a shrivelling of his deserted
shaft.
“Except perhaps mine.”
*
Trowa found his feet almost too fast for him, as he
rushed back to the room. He was disturbed
by so much – by the unreliable car; by the exciting night he’d had with Heero;
by Wufei’s unnerving touches in the kitchen.
Exciting touches,
his mind teased.
And more where that came from,
teased the tantalising memory of the Presence.
It was still with him – it was in his head; in his eyes. In his crotch…
He groaned quietly to himself – he’d still not had
breakfast! No wonder he was so off
kilter. He’d rouse Heero, and they could
go and find something together, and decide what to do about the car and
everything.
But Heero was already up when he let himself back
into the room. He turned and smiled at
Trowa, a little self-consciously. He had
a thin sleeveless vest on, and some shorts that Trowa never even knew he owned,
let alone had packed. They were more
modest than Quatre’s outrageous fashion statement of the night before; but the
sight of Heero’s slender, lithe thighs was still very stimulating. Trowa couldn’t help his eyes drifting that
way.
“Hi. Where’d
you get to?”
Trowa’s mouth opened to reply – then he seemed to
think better of it. He sat down on the
edge of the bed, his arms folded tightly against his chest. “Looking for breakfast – are you coming with
me?”
Heero stared at him, a little puzzled at his agitated
state. “Sure. I just had a wash, and went for a walk along
the corridor – had a look at that courtyard we passed. It looks like it’d be pleasant to sit out
there; there’s some shade over the benches.
And that’s a pool in the centre – well, it’s dried out at the moment, I
guess, though this is just the weather when it’d be great to take a dip –“
“Whatever,” said Trowa. It came out like a snap, and he wished for a
second he could bite it back. Heero’s
words stopped abruptly, and his face twisted.
Trowa felt like a real shit.
Heero frowned, and he snapped himself. “So what the fuck’s up with you this
morning? I don’t remember you being so tongue-tied
last night, when you were licking my ass!”
Trowa winced at the crudity in the bald light of
day. Flushed at the delicious
memory. “Yeah, but I’m not the one who
sprayed curses around like rice at a wedding, and shrieked his needs at a
decibel level that’d wake the dead -!”
It was Heero’s turn to flush. “You bastard, Trow! You gotta problem with my bedroom etiquette,
you can go fuck yourself, and that’s not just swearing, OK?”
Trowa grimaced.
“No – Heero – look, I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to upset you. It was great –
you know it was – I mean, it was great for me – never better –“
Heero sighed.
“Sorry, too. It’s the heat, I
guess. Or – whatever.” He busied himself with folding a towel that
was already folded. Settling a pile of
them that had already been settled.
Trowa thought that he was already in a mood, and it wasn’t gonna pass
any time soon. He wanted to kick
himself. Wanted to kick someone.
“What about the car?” asked Heero, his back still to Trowa. “We ready to get going yet?”
So Trowa told him the bad news. He sat down heavily on the bed beside him.
“Damn! But you
reckon Wufei can fix it, if we get the part?”
“Well, yeah –“ said Trowa. “But we don’t know when that’ll be, and we
have to wait for this delivery guy to turn up, and Wufei doesn’t seem to know
anything else about it –“
Heero put out a hand to him, rather tentatively. “Why are you so worried about it, Trow? Another day or so won’t matter. There’ll be someone out soon – they have to
have food delivered, don’t they? We’ll
either get the car fixed then, or hitch a lift into town.”
“I’m not worried, right? But we don’t have much money, and there’s a
way to go yet before we get to the city –“
Heero laughed.
Trowa realised it was the first time he’d heard him laugh for a couple
of days. “But we’ve been given an
option, to help out – to pay our way for a bit.
Don’t you want to help Wufei out?
With his miraculous cooking?
Sounds like you two have had quite a chat this morning already –“
It was a joke, but Heero realised he’d misjudged
it. He didn’t understand Trowa’s
tension. He thought that his lover’s
response was disproportionately aggressive.
“Shut up, Heero!
You know nothing about it! I’m
trying to make the money last, and do the best for us, and it’s nothing to do
with Wufei, OK? We’ve gotta get going –
we’ve gotta move on the fastest we can.
But then, maybe you fancy helping Quatre out, eh? Maybe with more than a coupla nails and some
yard repairs!”
Heero snorted, his mood instantly defensive. “What the fuck are you saying? You are way outta order –“
Trowa raced on – he was barely in control of his
words, now. The Presence was taunting
him – mixing the guys together in his head, confusing him. “Don’t be so naïve, Heero – you can see it as
well as I can! He’s dripping with it –
the come-on; the buy-one-get-one-free invitation. I saw the way he looked at your ass. The way he drooled over you in the
hall, all the time he was spreading his cheeks for a bit of fondling up his
hole –“
“You stupid jerk!” yelled Heero. He lurched up to his feet, abruptly. What was going on here? What had happened to Trowa, to turn him like
this so suddenly? He couldn’t remember
them ever arguing – though maybe it was because he never really disagreed with
Trowa before. It had made for an easier
life for both of them. He was rapidly
rethinking that approach this morning.
“Who d’you think you are? I
choose what I want to do, OK – not you!
And I’m here with you, aren’t I?
Leaving it all behind for you!
Dammit, you’re fucking me, aren’t you? What the hell else do you want from me?”
“Stop it, Heero – I didn’t mean – “
“So what did you mean?” Heero was past compromise, now. It had been a hell of a week so far – and now
no car, no idea where in the damn country he was, apart from being in a small
room with a guy who’d turned from lover to abuser in a coupla minutes. “You’ve always gotta be in charge of
everything, Trowa! Money – car – who
looks at my ass! You don’t think
I can look after myself, do you? Always
the one to say where we go – when we go – why we go! What the fuck do you know about me,
anyway? You think I’m gonna drop my
pants for that hot little half-dressed boy – when it’s you that’s
drooling over the stud and his sexy food, and his rippling, fucking
muscles -!”
Trowa lifted a hand.
He was suddenly disorientated; almost nauseous. The Presence was demanding something else of
him – it needed him…
“I’m sorry!
I’m sorry! OK? Calm down -!”
Heero tried to pull back his racing anger – the words
that seemed to have been festering just under the surface of his daily
conversation, for some time now. The feelings
that had been repressed there, too.
“Trowa - you gonna be like that, I’m outta here, OK? I don’t need that! That’s what I’m running from, y’know? Telling me what to do – telling me I’m always
wrong – always stupid –“
Trowa stood as well, and in a single, awkward
movement, he clasped Heero to him. He
pressed his mouth down on Heero’s busy lips, and he thrust his tongue into his
mouth to silence him. It was all he
could think of doing. It was all he
wanted to do. His mouth was greedy, and
fierce, and he felt Heero’s surprise beneath it; and then his gradual response.
“I didn’t mean it, Heero!” he muttered into the
dark-haired man’s mouth. “I just – it’s
just that it’s such a change, to be in control of my own life at last – to be
in charge – not of you – I just wanna be with you – “ He stopped talking, and began moaning, as his
hands ran up under Heero’s vest, and sought out the small, erect nipples. Heero arched gently underneath him.
“It was so good, Heero – last night - I felt so good
–“
He pushed them both backwards, up against the
bed. Heero’s knees buckled, and he
rolled on to his back on the newly straightened cover. Trowa came with him, touching; pinching;
stroking; kissing –
“Make me feel good again, Heero – I need you – I want
you so much – get these damned shorts off, let me touch you –“ He struggled with Heero’s clothes, until
Heero decided to help him. He pushed his
shorts down, the boxers as well; helped Trowa tug his own pants off.
“Guess the day’s too hot to go out until after
lunch…” he gasped, as Trowa knelt at his hips, moaning soft sounds into the
creases of his naked groin. He was
aroused, now, as fierce and eager as the first time – as the last time. As any time! Trowa’s hands were on his waist – then
pinching a nipple – then his tongue was reaching for the tip of Heero’s cock,
sipping at the drops leaking out. We’ve
never done it in the daytime, thought Heero, dizzy with desire. It felt very different. Lots of things were feeling very different at
the moment…
“Yeah…We – should stay in here a while. And we gotta keep ourselves amused, right?”
whispered Trowa, and his tongue slid down the soft, warm skin of his lover’s
shaft. He couldn’t believe his
desperation – the agony of suspense in his balls. The terrible need for it – the need for
Heero. He lifted his face back up to
Heero, kissing at his chin – searching for his neck, his tongue. The taste of him. “What do you want, Heero? Tell me whatever you want, I just want to
fuck you – what do you want?”
“Fuck me,” Heero whispered in reply. He took hold of Trowa’s soft hair, smelled
the faint traces of both motor and cooking oil in the strands that brushed his
face. He sighed, imperceptibly. He pressed him gently back down towards his
groin – he spread his legs in blatant invitation. “Just fuck me. As hard as you like. That’s all I want, too.”
*
Heero stirred lightly in his sleep. From the open window, the noonday sun shone
on his face, lighting up the moisture on his lips; the slight sheen of sweat on
his heated body. His sleep was deep from
exhaustion and the listlessness that came from the incessant heat. But disturbed, too, because he slept so
rarely in the daytime. His hand had been
flung across Trowa’s leg; but now he drew it back. He clutched it around himself, instead. It was an unconscious withdrawal, and never
felt by the other sleeping man. Heero
gave a soft, drowsy moan – his body was aching and a little bruised, and his
dreams were unusually chaotic.
The voice in his head was low, and soft, and it
tugged at something inside him that he never knew he had.
In his dreams, he knew he’d heard it before. It was asking something of him. It needed his permission. For what, he had no idea.
It whispered to him.
It called to him; begged for him to come.
You are not anyone’s to possess, Heero. You know that. I know that. Come and whisper that to me…I will understand…
Heero shook his head a little, as if to clear
it. As if to push the voice away; to
deny it. And as he turned away from the
window, reaching instinctively in his sleep for his lover, the voice laughed.
But the laugh was bitter.