Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Killer Porn ❯ Chapter 1

killer porn

 

 

“So, are ya gonna get it out, or what?”

 

“In a moment.”

 

His backpack contents were like a coiled snake inside a basket; unease sitting on his lap. All those memories of what he used to be, all he was, all he could never be again- he was afraid. He did not want Maxwell to see this part of him: the useless soldier.

 

He thought of Relena, and all he could never be for her. Human. He thought of Maxwell, all he wanted to be. Happy. If Maxwell knew he was just this shell, if he saw through Heero's façade, he would never be able to look the eye again.

 

“Man, it's no big deal.”

 

Maxwell sat on the lower bunk, next to Heero. His own bed. Heero could not exactly tell him to get away- though he was tempted to, for a moment. Then Maxwell smiled at him. Just smiled. “Just take your laptop out an' do your thing, Yuy.”

 

That smile. That smile was all it took.

 

“Alright.”

 

He unzipped the flap, hoping all that came out would be the computer. Lucky Heero, that was all that came out. No hidden memories uncoiled to poison him. The black top cracked open, and no unwanted memories popped on the screen; only the cold blue glow from the monitor.

 

“I half `xpected to hear ya say `mission accepted.'”

 

“Ha-ha.” The smile was sarcastic, to hide his relief. He and Maxwell would have a good time tonight. The past would stay behind them. At least for tonight. “Now, you said you wanted to see some `killer porn.'”

 

“Go here.” Maxwell pulled out a magazine and pointed. “This webpage.”

 

“Webpage?” Heero rolled his eyes. A visual text display was an antiquated mode of relaying data. “You'd think a pornographic hub could afford a virtual avatar?”

 

“At least.” Maxwell shrugged. “But I figure they put their money in their gravy.”

 

“If they can't afford a good avatar, I don't think their porn's going to have any decent production value.”

 

“We'll be the judge of that.” Maxwell nudged his elbow. “I'll navigate. You steer. So type, Yuy.”

 

“Better not be some lame crap.”

 

“Did I ever steer you that way, brother?” Brother? Heero looked at Maxwell, his freckled face, his mischief-maker-grin. Was he his brother? Cut from the same cloth? He wanted that, very much. “Well,” Maxwell's eyebrow went up. “Did I?”

 

“I guess not.”

 

“Guess?” He laughed. “Just get the porn, motherfucker- let's get it on!”

 

Heero blinked when Maxwell slapped his back and jumped off of the bed to get two beers. Caps flew off, so inconsequentially, his braid hit Heero, smack dab in the face.

 

“Do you mind?” He spat the ratty hair out of his mouth.

 

“No, I don't.” Maxwell handed one to him and clinked the bottle necks together. “Cheers.”

 

“Hoo-ha.” Heero took a long drink as the ancient code described in mauve and purple pixels swirled on his screen. Then a woman, pink-fleshed with platicized breasts and capped teeth spread her legs and presented her clean-shaven self to them. `Click here for coochie' flashed where the `coochie' would have been. “Here goes nothing.” Heero said it, because nothing much was what he expected from such a dilapidated presentation.

 

He couldn't stand ancient technology. But Maxwell, sitting so close and grinning through the haze of beer-perfume and the beginnings of lust in that twinkle in his eye? Heero could find a way to cope.

 

Maxwell shifted, just a little closer. “Lookit that….”

 

“Yeah.” Heero was looking. Not at the screen, either. That priests' collar was unbuttoned. He could see freckles, all the way down Maxwell's shirt.

 

“I meant the chick.” Maxwell wasn't looking at the screen, anymore. He'd caught Heero checking him out!

 

“I know.” That was all he could muster. All he could say. His face turned bright red, his mind whirled with a dozen apologies that could find no words, just emotions. Emotions. Why couldn't they register properly? He wasn't functioning properly, like a machine with broken parts.

 

That had to be it.

 

He hit the button, and the laptop retrieved the ancient encoding. In moments they were presented with a screen filled with squares and text: a map to a strange world filled with feeling for the lonely.

 

Sex. Heero needed to focus. Needed to redirect those feelings Relena wanted no part of. Maxwell would show him the way. If Heero didn't screw things up. Again.

 

“That one.” Maxwell pointed to the square in the center, the picture of a girl masturbating. “Let's watch that movie.”

 

“Fine.”

 

It was par for the course. Motion in what they had seen in static pictures, so many times over the last week. She moaned and touched herself, her hands covered body parts Heero was sure were digitally and surgically enhanced. Well and good. He was already hard. Already waiting. Already there. Not because of her, but because of Maxwell's excitement. He wanted to share it. All of it, to understand what it meant to escape in the flesh.

 

Maxwell sighed. It was like an angel's feather on Heero's cheek. He shivered as Maxwell put his hands in his black priests' pants and began to touch himself. Right there, right in front of him. The action was a thousand times more stimulating than the girl. Heero forced himself to keep his eyes on the screen. But it was Maxwell, just Maxwell, that made his cock throb.

 

It made no sense. But then again, nothing made sense, anymore.

 

“She's so horny…”

 

So am I.

 

“Man, what I wouldn't give to be there an' help her out.”

 

Would you?

 

“She's so wet, man.”

 

I'm so hard…

 

“So wet… oh!”

 

So are you.

 

“Fuck…”

 

Yeah…

 

“Oh, fuck…”

 

Maxwell had never masturbated right in front of Heero, before. Sure, they had done it, in the safety of their separate bunk beds, but never like this, thighs touching and hands working. Heero wished he could do it, too. But the laptop would have slipped tot he floor, and the moment would have been over.

 

He knew it was wrong, but he could not let the moment end. Maxwell was so… He wanted to see the show next to him. Forget the girl on the screen. He wanted to see Maxwell work himself into ecstasy, to grab his cock and let go of everything else.

 

But he wasn't thinking of him, was he? He was focused on that girl. Like Heero should have been.

 

“Hey man…”

 

Heero kept staring at the screen, painfully aware, right down to his rigid toes, of the guy's undone pants and busy hands in his peripheral vision. It was all he could do to keep looking, with unseeing eyes, at the screen.

 

“It's kinda weird doin' this by myself…”

 

Tell me about it.

 

“Don't you wanna….”

 

Heero closed his eyes. Yes, he wanted. He wanted… Fuck, he couldn't. He needed…. And he shouldn't have. Yeah. It was Maxwell. Fuck it all. He wanted something. His body knew what he couldn't say.

 

“Oh. I see.”

 

Then he felt it. That hand on his fly. At first he thought he was imagining things, that his mind was reaching for that ridiculously impossible scenario and painting it with sensations that could not possibly exist. But they did. They were right there: under Maxwell's hand.

 

“What the fuck?” Heero fell back on his elbows. The laptop tilted, and the girl on the screen sobbed, as Maxwell undid Heero's pants and slipped inside.

 

“No big deal.” Maxwell's breath was choppy, like water in a storm. Like the storm in his eyes. Like the storm in Heero's broken heart. Heero looked up at him, shocked and horrified when his cock throbbed in Maxwell's hand. “Hey man, that's what friends're for. Right?” And he just smiled, blowing away all the anxiety with one stroke.

 

That was all it took.

 

Black, white. Right, wrong. Up, down. They converged in that place between Heero's legs. He held on to the laptop, for dear life, somehow sure that if it tumbled to the floor, he would fall with it, as Maxwell pumped them both toward that incredible point.

 

“So… hot…” Maxwell meant the girl, right? Heero closed his eyes and pretended Maxwell meant him. He shifte dhis hips, carefully, and Maxwell's fingers lingered on every stroke. To be touched was heaven. And by Maxwell, who knew how to touch him, divine.

 

Don't stop.

 

“So… hot…”

 

I want to be that way, for you. Heero didn't care, anymore. Just the feeling, to be on this side of ecstasy, it was nearly enough.

 

Don't stop.

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Fuck…”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“So….hot…”

 

There was a sound. Some kind of cry. Heero thought it was the girl, imagined it was Maxwell, as his heartbeat converged with the stroke, and heat poured out of him.

 

But it was Heero. He'd come, all over Maxwell's hand. Seconds later, Maxwell…Oh, God… Maxwell.

 

It was… so good.

 

So fucked up…

 

He stood on the edge of forever, where come drizzled from his soul: so many drops for Maxwell's hand to catch. And Heero's hands, the ones that were supposed to be holding on to the (once) precious laptop? Clutching the sheet beneath them, twisting them like reins on the crazy horse. Heero couldn't stop the ride. It went on and on. Maxwell wouldn't let go. He was the rainmaker, he wouldn't stop the rain.

 

Could he stop him?

 

He didn't want to. God help him…

 

“Maxwell…”

 

“Waaait…”

 

Heero saw him through the haze; sweat drops misted over Maxwell's face, his lips quivered, one eye was shut. Beautiful- he was beautiful like this. He wanted to be the one who made him this way.

 

“She's…”

 

She. The haze faded when Maxwell said that word. She. It became a sharp point in his heart, and the come bled from Maxwell. A shot that hit Heero square in the eye.

 

“Oh, yeah!”

 

The laptop slid from Heero's lap and clapped on to the metallic floor.

 

“Yeah!”

 

The casing cracked, and the screen fizzled into black. It was… the only artifact Heero had taken from the war. Everything he used to be. Now it was everything he had become: Broken. His chest hurt. His eyes stung.

 

All he could do was laugh. After all, it was funny. In a fucked up kind of way.

 

“Shit, Yuy. Why'd you let that happen?”

 

“It doesn't matter.” Heero couldn't look him in the eye. He was afraid Maxwell was mad. Not just about the broken laptop, but because…

 

“Sure it does. You love that thing.”

 

“No I don't.”

 

“Well, you did.”

 

There was a strange pause. The air between them rarified again, as the silence hung between them.

 

“Say something,” said Heero.

 

“Like what?”

 

“I don't know. You're always saying something.”

 

“What do you want me to say?” Heero felt a filthy towel hit the side of his face. “That you got my spoo on yer face?” That… was not what hero expected to hear. “I guess yer gonna say that's why you dropped yer laptop? Cos I freaked you with my spoo?”

 

“I didn't mean…” Heero stopped himself. What did he mean? Hell, all he knew was that he wanted Maxwell to make it better, to tell him everything was cool. “Fuck, I don't know.”

 

“Well, as much as I like seein' a pretty face wearin' my spunk, you'd better clean up, Yuy.”

 

“Like you ever spoo'd on someone's face, before.” Heero hid his burning face in the towel and wiped Maxwell away. Then he threw the towel back at him.

 

Maxwell caught it with one hand, jumped up, kicked the laptop out of his way, and leaned down, between Heero's legs.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Heero's face was still on fire.

 

“Hey, man. Don't get your panties in a bunch. You just forgot something.” Maxwell pointed at Heero's undone pants. “Damn, Heero. You got enough on my hand! Lookit yer pants- Dude!”

 

“Oh, shit.”

 

“No, come.” Heero tried to scoot back as Maxwell knelt- between his goddamn legs!- and began wiping him up. “Damn, Yuy! You look like a bucket of glue done gone messed your pants.”

 

Haphazard swipes; the towel was rough. It felt like fire on his exposed cock, still throbbing and half hard. Heero closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was an innocent child, but innocence was coy. He was getting turned on, all over again, because he could feel Maxwell on the other side of that towel. His hand- was he lingering on purpose? Of course not.

 

Of course not.

 

He had to stop thinking this way. It was fucked up.

 

“There.” Maxwell threw the towel down. Apparently Heero's state meant nothing; he just laughed. “I ain't gonna git you off twice, Yuy. Tough shit.”

 

Say something, stupid. Heero just stuffed himself back into his pants and buttoned up.

 

“Now, if you'd taken better care of that laptop of yers…”

 

“Oh, then I'd get lucky?” Thankyou, humor. Heero cracked a smile through his stiff, red face.

 

“Oh!” Maxwell shoved him. “Kink-ay!”

 

“What the fuck-“

 

“Fuck?” Maxwell pinned him down on his mattress, hands hard on Heero's shoulders. “You wish, pervert!”

 

“Stop it!” That was what he said, but god help him, it wasn't what he meant. Keep going was what he wanted to say.

 

“Stop what?” He was the crazy-eyed mischief maker, now. So close, Heero could count the freckles on his face- if he kept still. “I ain't doin' nothin,' pervert.” He held his hands up, a fake surrender. A dare to move.

 

Heero took him up on it, with a halfhearted scramble. Just to see what he'd do next.

 

“Whatchya so nervous about, Yuy?” Maxwell pressed himself deep into Heero's belly. “You pervin' out on me? Goin' fag?”

 

It was a joke. Just a joke, he told himself. He couldn't really think…Hell… was that what it was? Heero's face kept the grin, but the blush was too deep. Because…

 

“Aw…” Maxwell put his hand on his heart and sighed. Rolled his eyes and sighed. “How sweet!”

 

“Fuck off!” Heero tried to laugh.

 

“Potty mouth!” Maxwell jumped off of him. For a moment Heero thought the joke was over. There was no time to sigh back at the mischief maker in relief. Because Mischief was quick. Mischief liked a good time. And Mischief found it, right there, when he flipped Heero over and smacked his ass- hard!

 

“Dirty-“ smack “pervy-“ smack smack “potty mouth-“ smack “droppin' his lap” smack “top…”

 

“Maxwell!” Heero ground his teeth, then ground his cock into Maxwell's mattress. “Cut it out, nutjob!”

 

“Alright, alright.” Maxwell finally let up. “I think you've had enough, Yuy.”

 

Heero reached for some humor as he tried to sit up. “I think you're the one who was getting off-“

 

“Oh so you want some more!”

 

Heero found his face pressed down into Maxwell's mattress, again, as a series of paddles made contact, square on his ass. He was laughing. God help him. Rock hard, and laughing.

 

Maxwell did that to him. Funny, how he did that. And he didn't even seem to know.