Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Ma Petite Mort ❯ Chapter 2

Ma Petite Mort - Part 2 / Naomi

Summary: When the war against Mariemaea is over Heero wanders alone through the streets of Brussels, trying to find a purpose for drawing his next breath. A strange encounter with an even stranger woman helps him find his cause.

Warning: 1xOFC, 1x2x1, OOC (under the circumstances), het, reference to drug & alcohol abuse, angst.

Author's Note: Despite what it may look like this fic will be an 1x2x1 although there will be quite a lot of het before that. Also, let me assure you that I will not bring Heero into prostitution, drug abuse and such. This fic is not about those.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Exhausted and in pain from his injuries Heero made his way back to the park. He settled down on a bench, his body too heavy to carry itself any further. The night air was chilly and a thick layer of fog hovered above the ground. He curled into himself, shivering. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

Unlike before it was the feeling of sudden warmth that pulled him out of slumber. While his legs were frozen stiff, his upper body was tingling with much welcomed warmth. Under the webs of sleep he reached for the source of warmth, pulling it closer to him. He inhaled deeply, letting warm air into his lungs to banish the cold. The wonderful scent of perfume teased his senses and pulled at his awareness. He knew that smell. It had enchanted him before.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, struggling to lift his heavy eyelids. For a moment or two his vision was blurred as his cobalt eyes refused to wake just yet. He found himself staring into a pair of red/green eyes that were looking down at him in amusement.

His eyes flew wide open and he gasped, flinching back.

Adele, who was kneeling by his bench, smiled cockily. “Bonjour, Monsieur Nobody.” (= Good morning, Mister Nobody.) She said softly. “I thought I might find you here.”

Heero looked at her in confusion before he realized that he was clutching her jacket close to him. Ashamed, he let go of it and sat up. He winced as his ribs protested, reminding him that they have not yet healed.

“What do you want?” He asked hoarsely, his voice rough from sleep. Unconsciously, he reached for her jacket again, pulling it close to cover his aching chest.

Adele slowly rose to her feet and gave him a sympathetic look. “I have a place not far away from here. It's small, but it's warm.”

Heero frowned at her but she only offered a smile in return. “Just think of it as a thank you for saving my life and buying me dinner.”

Heero sighed, slumping his shoulders. He was tired, cold and aching all over. A warm bed sounded far beyond tempting. And it was not like he had anywhere else to go. What would Duo say? `Take what yer offered, man, cuz ya can never know...' He forgot what was the rest of that particular pearl of wisdom. He was much too drained to even think.

Adele didn't wait for his answer. She could see the boy slowly nod off to sleep, his body tilting forward as his hold on her jacket weakened. She helped him up to his feet, chuckling as he opened a confused pair of eyes and tensed.

“Come on, it's not far.”

Heero nodded, barely registering what she said. Her body was warm as she pressed close to him, supporting him as he walked. He didn't mind as she slipped an arm around his waist. After a few moments of walking he even leaned his head on her shoulder.

It was almost dawn by the time they arrived to Adele's one-room apartment. The apartment was very small and extremely messy, clothes and junk lying everywhere. The interior décor reminded Heero of something Hindu-like. Warm colors, colorful fabrics, rich bead curtains at the doorsteps and even a large narghile (1) by a battered beanbag. There was also a heavy, sweet, scent of incense filling the small flat. A large bed stood in the center of the room, covered with crimson sheets with golden pattern.

He was walking on his own by the time they arrived to her place, her warm jacket still hanging on his shoulders. Adele threw herself on the large bed and began to untie her boots. Heero looked around and decided to make himself comfortable on the beanbag, despite the pile of clothes atop of it.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Adele yelled at him, looking at him with wide red/green eyes. “Ya really think I'm gonna let ya sleep in my closet!? You sleep on the bed like a big boy.” She shook her head like a rebuking mother. “Mijn God! Een welke stomme kleine jongen!” (= My God! What a stupid little boy!)

Heero gaped at her, unable to process that long stream of words that came from her mouth. He blinked slowly, tiredly, like a sleepy child.

“I don't bite!” Adele exclaimed in annoyance, tapping on the bed next to her. “Come! You're falling asleep standing up!”

She yanked her large boots off her feet and threw them aside. “Mijn God, I'm exhausted!” She said, throwing herself on the bed, spreading her limbs everywhere.

Lacking the strength to argue with her, and not really caring where he lay down as long as he did, Heero settled heavily on the bed. He lay on the edge of the bed with his back facing her. Her jacket was still hanging over his shoulders.

“Here,” Adele said softly and threw a blanket over his huddled form. Her warm fingers brushed against his skin briefly and he shivered, pulling away even further.

“Thank you.” He whispered with a sigh, drifting into sleep.

He awoke in the early morning hours, perhaps an hour or two after falling asleep. It took him a while to remember where he was, but he was still sleepy enough not to care that he had accepted Adele's offer. As long as he could lie in a warm bed, nothing else mattered.

Wondering why he had woken up Heero noted that he fell asleep with his shoes and Adele's jacket on. He woke up because he was uncomfortable.

Sighing quietly, he heaved himself up and prepared to take off his shoes. When he moved, the bed shifted under his weight and someone moaned.

Heero tensed, his senses alert. Then his mind supplied him: Adele. He slowly turned around and looked down at her lying next to him. The sight was strange, unnatural. He never slept with anyone on the same bed before. No one was ever this close to him while he was vulnerable. Not even the other pilots.

He studied her face, which was now calm in sleep. Her green/red hair was sprawled all over her face and the pillow. She was still wearing heavy makeup, which glowed under the soft morning sun. There were heavy black bags under her eyes, due to the heavy makeup surrounding them. She looked less chaotic than she did last night. Something akin to the calm after the storm.

His eyes wandered slowly down her figure. The blanket was clinging to her skinny frame, emphasizing every feminine curve of her body. He swallowed, looking up at where her large sloppy shirt revealed her slim shoulders, sliding down the side of her pale arm.

Her pale white skin attracted him somehow. Without a conscious thought his eyes traveled down to where a hint of her breasts was showing. The fabric of her shirt clung tightly around the round mounds.

Suddenly he realized what he was doing, what he was looking at, and hurried to turn away. He kicked his shoes off and threw himself back at the bed.

Adele turned in her sleep and he could feel her smooth, bare legs brush against his under the blanket. He shivered and pulled himself further away from her, to the very tip of the bed. He listened to the wild beats of his heart before finally falling asleep again.

 

Hours later Heero awoke to the delicious aroma of cooking. Bacon and eggs. They used to serve it in one of the private schools he had attended in Great Britain. His mouth watered. He didn't like bacon but he was incredibly hungry.

Opening his eyes he found himself facing the small kitchen at the corner of the one-room apartment. Adele was standing by the stove, her back facing him. She was wearing a pair of boxers and the sloppy shirt. The collar was so wide it slid off her right shoulder, exposing her pale skin. Her hair lay over her shoulder blades in a spiky heap of red and green.

He watched her flip the food out of the pan and into a plate. She turned to serve it to the table and finally noticed that he was awake. She gave him a bright smile and placed the plate on the table.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Nobody.” She greeted and turned to the stove again to fill another plate. “I took some money for the groceries,” she informed him casually and then added: “Mijn God, you're loaded!”

Heero glared at her as she served the second plate to the table.

“Don't worry, I didn't take more than necessary.” She sat down and picked up her fork. “Come, eat.”

Heero didn't know what to say, so he simply kept quiet. Groggily he got out of bed and headed to the small table in the kitchen. He looked down at his meal: bacon, eggs, toast and cheese. His stomach grumbled angrily and Adele laughed.

“I hope you'll like it better than them burgers.” Adele said, laughing. He looked up at her and noticed that she wasn't wearing her contact lenses or make up. Her eyes were actually blue and without the makeup she looked far more pleasant to the eye. Now that her features were bare, unhidden, he saw that they were pale, slight and tender looking. She was prettier without the makeup.

“How old did you say you were?” He asked just to see if he had guessed right.

“You don't ask a woman for her age, Monsieur Nobody.” Adele laughed with her mouth full of eggs. “I'm twenty seven.”

She looked younger. He had guessed no more than twenty-five. She was ten years older than him!

“Do you like the eggs?” She asked, reminding him of his meal, and his hunger. He didn't take the time to answer her question and devoured his breakfast.

He didn't know what to do when he finished eating. Adele ditched the dishes into the sink and he watched her throw the clothes off the beanbag and onto the bed before sitting down. She stuffed cotton between her toes and began painting them one red, one green. The apartment was silent and the atmosphere was getting heavier as Heero simply sat by the table and watched her paint her nails. Each time she bent down to reach her feet the wide collar of her shirt hung low, revealing almost everything. She wasn't wearing a bra, Heero realized and looked away. He felt anxious each time he caught himself looking at her like that. Was he no better than an average horny teenager?! What was wrong with him?!

“You can wash the dishes if you want.” Adele said and reached for the stereo system sitting on a table by her side. There was a mountain of CDs on top of the stereo, along with a lacy thong and suspender belts. She turned the player on and the small flat filled with the rich and soothing sound of New Age music. Heero was surprised that it was not heavy metal bombarding his ears.

“And when you're done,” Adele spoke while carefully smearing green nail polish on her little finger, “you can go and take a shower. There's a joint shower room down the hall.”

Dishes, then a shower. It was something he could do. A small purpose to achieve. It was better than nothing. Without a word he got up and began cleaning the dishes. The kitchen was filthy and the sink was full of dishes from what seemed like weeks ago. On a whim, he cleaned them as well.

“You're quite handy, Monsieur Nobody.” Adele commented from her beanbag, leaning back and wiggling her freshly painted toes.

“Heero.” He mumbled with his head bowed, as if it would somehow help to hide the name he had spoken.

“Pardon?”

“It's my name,” he said louder, looking up at her, “so stop calling me that.”

She smirked and her eyes glinted with mischief. “Monsieur Heero! Le grand héros de la révolution!” (= Mister Heero! The great hero of the revolution!)

Heero sighed and looked down at the sink again. “Ne te moques pas de moi.” (= Don't make fun of me.)

“But of course, mon ami!” she called, laughing nastily, “La dernière chose dont tu ais besoin c'est bien d'une putain à cinquante dollars qui blesse tes sentiments!” (= The last thing you need is a fifty dollar whore to hurt your feelings!)

Heero turned to face her, glaring. “Qu'est-ce que c'est censé signifier?” (= What's that supposed to mean?)

“It means that you should lighten up, Heero. That's all.” She said calmly, looking at him with a pair of serious blue eyes.

Cerulean, Heero corrected himself. They were as bright and clear at the sky. Why did she hide them behind a pair of bizarre contacts?

“Est ce que tu vois quelque chose qui te plaît, Monsieur Heero?” (= Do you see anything you like, mister Heero?) She asked teasingly after noting that he was staring at her, and not for the first time.

“Pas vraiment.” (= Not really.) He muttered, looking away. He was making a fool out of himself. What was he still doing in her apartment?!

“Here,” she threw some clothes and a towel at him, “Go shower. You smell like a disgusting old man.”

And that concluded their conversation for the day. Heero went out of the apartment to shower. When he returned, wearing a pair of her boxers and a sloppy shirt, Adele was still in her beanbag, blowing bubbles in her smoking bottle. Her gaze was fixed somewhere far beyond the large window to her side. She seemed to be deep in thought and he did not wish to bother her. Silently, and without much thought given to what he was doing, Heero crawled back to the bed and lay next to the plies of trashy outfits she threw there earlier. He curled under the blanket and drifted to sleep. Adele didn't say a word about it.

When he awoke it was dark although he could see the soft flickering spots of candlelight dancing behind his closed eyelids. There was a strong scent of vanilla in the air from both the candles in the incense burning in the room. The smell was intoxicating. New Age music still played in the background ever so softly, whispers coming to him from the dark. He was warm and comfortable on the bed. So cozy, that he didn't want to open his eyes.

He listened to the music, letting it carry him upon it like mellowing ocean waves. Caught between sleep and awake he drifted upon shallow waters, lying on a raft that rocked slowly from side to side. Peace fell upon him and without knowing he let out a small moan, so relaxed he was that he did not realize it.

“Dormir comme un bébé.” (= Sleeping like a baby.) A low, husky voice whispered bitterly. Wistfully. It was the first time he heard Adele speak so gravely, without a trace of teasing in her voice. He opened his eyes and looked at her, immediately pinning her gaze with his.

“You're awake.” She stated quietly, a sad smile hovering over her lips. They were very thin, her lips, but not in a delicate way. They looked sad, abused. In the candlelight, sitting alone on her beanbag, the young woman's face seemed almost... arid. Lifeless. Her lips caved under her sadness, pressed into a thin, poignant line. How many men have kissed those pale lips? How many times have they been bitten, hurt? Is that what made them so thin and weary? So slight instead of lush? Were they still soft?

Heero looked away from her, ashamed of what he was thinking.

Adele gave out a bitter chuckle and looked away. She raised a glass full of golden liquor and ice that rattled as she served it to her lips. She gulped it down quickly and reached an unsteady hand towards a bottle sitting on the floor next to her.

“Did you sleep well? You were sleeping so hard nothing I did woke you.” She said, pouring herself another glass.

“I'm sorry.” Heero murmured, his voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper. He felt weak, like no matter how much he will sleep it will not be enough. “I should leave.” He added but made no move to get up. He was so comfortable. He'd never been comfortable before in his life. He didn't want the feeling to be so short lived.

“Fait comme tu veux.” (= Do as you want.) She said, taking a long sip from her liquor. Her voice was as bitter as the alcohol on her lips. Her eyes did not spare him a glance as she spoke.

Heero looked at her silently. He was unsure of what to say, how to respond to her sudden change of behavior. Why was she so upset all of a sudden? He tried to remember what Duo would say in such a situation but nothing came up. He sighed and stared down at the mattress.

The silence stretched into forever. Heero dared to look up at her again. She was sitting slumped on the beanbag, one naked leg thrown over the other, her boxers sliding high up under her and revealing her pale thighs. The glass was lying in her limp grasp, ice cubes floating in a shallow pool of golden liquid. She wasn't drinking anymore, simply staring out the window where the city lights twinkled in the dark. Her blue eyes seemed to be gazing deep into the darkness, sinking and mingling with it until some of it sipped into her their cerulean color.

The mattress creaked as Heero finally got out of bed. He crossed the three steps distance between them and sat on the Hindu carpet next to the beanbag. He fixed his intense gaze on her, watching the woman silently as if trying to solve an impossible enigma. Adele didn't move until Heero reached for the bottle of liquor. He brought it up to his face and watched the golden Brandy shake inside in a game of light and liquid. When he opened the bottle, Adele smiled sarcastically.

“You're too young to drink.”

“I'm too young for a lot of things.” Heero replied solemnly and put the cork aside. The strong scent of alcohol assaulted him at once, already making him lightheaded. Adele snorted.

“Here,” She said, handing him her glass. She held it for him as he poured himself a drink and watched with amusement as he gulped it down quickly. The Brandy went down like acid in his throat, burning him from the inside. He coughed, almost strangling, as his veins combusted into flames. Adele watched him and laughed.

“Stupide petit garçon! You could have killed yourself!” (= Stupid little boy!)

Despite the tears stinging his eyes, Heero glared at her. He coughed, the sharp taste burning his tongue. He raised the glass again and handed it up to her. With a defying glare commanded: “More.”

The woman let out a small chuckle. “You really want to lose your life to that bottle, don't you boy?!” She mocked, pouring him another glass.

“Une vie malheureuse est à peine une vie à perdre.” (= A miserable life is hardly a life to lose.) Heero whispered, his gaze on the floor. He gulped down his second shot, his face turning red and twisting in disgust as the fire flowed down his throat.

“Au contraire, mon ami.” (= On the contrary, my friend.) Adele replied smoothly, waving her hand in the air in an all-knowing gesture. “Being miserable... at least that's something. You can even lose that and then what? Then you have nothing left.” She turned to look at him and gave him a small, sad and wistful smile. “Be grateful for what you have.”

Perhaps it was the Brandy, but Heero found himself giving her a weak smile in return. He raised his glass and made a toast: “Pour les miserables.” (= For the miserable.) He said, gesturing with his glass. Adele took the bottle from the floor and raised it as well.

“For the miserable.” She repeated and then took a long sip from the bottle.

Most of the candles burnt out by the time they were satisfactorily drunk. Their bodies burned from the alcohol running through their veins. The room felt hot like fire and the shadows dancing on the walls only added to the illusion as candles flickered silently in every corner. They lay together on the floor, simply looking at each other with glazed eyes. Heero's mind was hazed, wandering left and right, his thoughts swirling around in an incoherent dance. It felt nice, being unable to think. He swam in his own little world, surrounded by lukewarm water. Nothing really mattered to him at the moment. There was no sorrow, no pain. No consequences.

He thought about Duo. What he would say if he saw him like this? During the war he always tried to get him to loosen up and failed at each attempt. Then Heero wondered why he was thinking about the baka. He wanted to tell him - `see, Duo? I can do these kind of things too'. He didn't know why it was so important to him, but he wanted Duo to know. He was trying to get better.

Slowly, he floated up to the surface of his mind and remembered where he was. Glazed cobalt eyes came to focuse and he turned to look at Adele, suddenly recalling that she was there next to him. The young woman was watching him intently, a faint smile on her lips.

“I thought I lost you, Heero.” She whispered hoarsely, “Where were you?”

“...nowhere.” He whispered back, and then smiled leisurely. “It was wonderful.”

Adele's eyes glinted in amusement when she saw him smile. “You're very handsome, did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Yes,” he answered, frowning, “girls at school used to chase me all the time.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “With that attitude of yours? C'est difficile à croire.” (= That's hard to believe.)

Heero coughed quietly, the Brandy tickling the back of his throat. “Yeah.”

They fell silent again, watching the candlelight flicker on the walls. Heero ran his eyes over the small apartment. Everything looked so much beautiful in the dim orange light. The beads on the bead curtain glittered in a wonderful display of colors. There were so many rich colors around him. He wasn't used to it; space was always so gray and gloomy. His eyes drank the warm colors hungrily, the alcohol flooding his brain making everything swirl and merge into a colorful mixture when he moved his head.

Adele reached for the Brandy bottle, which lay somewhere above her head. She made a disappointed face when she found it empty, sighed and tossed it away. It landed on the beanbag. She cursed softly in French and ran a hand through her wild green/red hair. Heero watched her, fascinated by the colors that adorned her body. Her large sloppy shirt was a bold purple and her silky boxer shorts were an intense orange. Her red/green hair and bright blue eyes added to the celebration of colors. He smiled at her, enjoying the colorful sight.

Slowly, almost in a lazy manner, Heero's eyes began wandering down her frame. She was lying on her side, like he was, one bare leg thrown over the other in a casual, restful, manner. Because of that position her boxers pressed tightly against her round bottom. The candlelight cast a golden hue on the pale skin. For a few long moments his eyes drank the sight of her thighs before traveling up her skinny frame and settling on her breasts. The collar of her shirt hung so low it revealed almost everything. Unconsciously, he licked his bottom lip, which had suddenly turned dry.

“Do you want to touch me, Heero?” Adele asked quietly, watching him with calm cerulean eyes.

Heero looked away, the alcohol making some room for logic. He had no right to ask for anything. Not of her. He had no right to want anything. Not from her, not from anyone, not even for himself.

“Heero,” She whispered and reached for his hand. His arm jerked up a little when she touched him, but he didn't pull away. Carefully, he shifted his gaze up to look at her.

“Another shot of Brandy and you'll be able to do whatever you want...” She spoke in a low, tempting voice.

Heero shook his head and pulled his hand away. “No thank you,” he whispered back, “I told you I'm not interested in buying your sex.”

“I'm not selling it to you. I said that you could do whatever you want.”

“What I want...” Heero mumbled, bowing his head to look at the floor. He never did what he wanted. Not ever. No one ever asked him what he wanted. It was only natural for him to assume that his will did not count.

“De quoi as-tu peur?” (= What are you afraid of?) She asked and her eyes shone as she looked at him in compassion.

“Not knowing what to do...” Heero admitted quietly, his eyes shining in distress. Everything was so... unfamiliar... to him. Not just her, not just peace, but he - himself - as a person. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to ask all of the questions he wanted answered. He didn't even know what those questions were. It was just a feeling, deep inside of him. Confusion. Everything was confusing. Unknown. Unreachable. Inside himself he screamed, calling out a name he did not know, searching for a voice that will reply and say - `It's okay. I'm here. It's me. I'm right here. I'm you. Do you see? This is you'. But no one answered. Inside of him there was only silence. And it hurt.

Adele moved closer to him and took his hand again. Their gazes locked, their noses nearly touching. “Have you ever known a woman before?”

“I don't even know myself...” He murmured, looking away from her piercing sky-blue eyes.

Adele smiled in sympathy and squeezed his hand. “Don't be afraid,” she whispered and slowly guided his hand to her breasts. “Sex is one of the easier things to learn.”

He looked at her, feeling his hand slowly being settled over her soft flesh. A small tremble went down his spine as her palm retreated, leaving him alone in uncharted territory. Their eyes met. There was no mockery or accusation in her eyes. She was being patient with him. He looked down at where his hand lay over her chest, cupping a single breast.

“What do you want to do, Heero?” She asked him calmly, looking at his thoughtful face.

He wanted to... to lick her. To suck her flesh. He wanted... he wanted many things he did not know.

“N'aie pas peur.” (= Don't be afraid.) She guided his hand under her shirt and let him touch her just above the heart. Her eyes were watching his face the whole time, reading every reaction that flickered in his deep blue eyes. The boy was clearly nervous.

“Du réconfort pour le malheureux.” (= A comfort for the miserable.) Adele whispered with a miserable smile on her lips. “Sometimes all the miserable have left is each other.”

Adele rose up, leaning above him. He turned to lie in his back, feeling the rough carpet beneath him. He watched her warily as she hovered above him, supporting herself by placing two arms at each side of him. Her spiky red/green hair cascaded down her head, framing her face. She was lovely, he mused, looking into her eyes. She was so close that he could see that her nose was a bit crocked, probably from being beaten far too many times. Duo's nose was the same; the baka had a bad habit of breaking it.

Heero frowned, realizing that he'd been thinking about him again. Adele leaned down and stole that thought away with a kiss, playing with his earlobe between her teeth. Surprisingly, the feeling was very pleasurable. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, to go back to the warm waters he had sailed upon earlier. It was hard to do when someone was so close to him, so intimate with him. His body trembled and he could not control it. He was afraid of the things he did not know, the things he couldn't even begin to understand. No one has ever been so close before. No one even held his hand before. And now this. It was too much. It hurt.

“Relax. It's all right.” Adele soothed him between kisses, touching her lips to his neck and down to where the collar of his shirt revealed his chest. Very carefully, she settled above him, straddling his torso. He reached an unsure hand towards her, wanting to touch but not knowing where.

She smiled in understanding and looked deep into his eyes. She could read the hurt and confusion in his deep cobalt pools. Her own eyes reflected many of the same feelings she saw in him. With their gazes locked she took off her shirt and threw it over her head. Heero studied her body quietly. There was a long, ugly scar going down from the underside of her left breast to her mid abdomen, crossing over her lower stomach. It looked like someone had tried to cut her in half. The candlelight danced over her pale skin and the shadows caressed her leisurely. The orange light only made the scar stand out even more.

He turned his gaze up to Adele's eyes and studied her features. A story full of horror and pain hid itself behind a murky mist in her eyes. Her features hardened in defense of her dignity, daring him to say a word.

“Changed your mind?” She asked insolently, lifting her chin up slightly as she spoke.

Heero didn't answer. With some maneuvering he lifted his upper body and took off his shirt. Adele looked down at his naked torso, muscled flesh stretching under pale golden skin. There was a large scar across his stomach, still red and raw. Barely a month old. Another long scar went from his upper left arm, up to his shoulder and then down below to his shoulder blade.

They looked at each other in silence, both pairs of eyes telling an unspoken tale. Adele slowly leaned down and kissed his scars, tracing the outlines of each of them with her tongue.

Heero closed his eyes and simply... breathed, allowing the sensation to wash over him. His hands suddenly gained the knowledge to touch, to explore. He reached to her, desperately, trying to answer his body's wants without knowing how. Her skin was soft, her flesh heated with desire. With the tip of his finger he traced the scar on the side of her breast and felt her shudder at his touch.

Then she kissed him on the lips, hot and wet, with the expertness and intent of an experienced woman. His first kiss. He responded with his own tongue, tasting the Brandy in her mouth and the tobacco from her hookah. She was warm and moist, a strange sensation on his tongue. He tried to drink her with a hungry mouth, the need to feel her growing inside of him.

They began to move together, waist against waist. His body was no longer under his control. Adele knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss and tease him. He lay there panting; his eyes closed tight as she introduced him to his own body, to feelings he never knew existed.

Moving down his body, she removed his boxers, slowly peeling them off his arousal. She leaned down and kissed the weeping tip of his cock and Heero fought back a moan. She licked him, and he thrust his head side, struggling to trap another groan deep down his throat. His breathing came hard and shallow. His responses to the pleasurable stimulation were much like his reaction to torture. He tried to keep silent and unmoving as she swallowed him whole. He wanted to let go, to scream, but some kind of barrier still would not give.

His mouth hung wide open as she sucked him, treating his most private part like candy. Behind his closed eyes he could picture a burning flow of white energy bubbling just beneath the surface of his lower body, begging to come out. He was hard and aching, caught between pleasure and pain. There was a loud scream caught in his throat and he trashed beneath her, shaking with both anxiety and pleasure. Small cries forced themselves out of his mouth. He turned his head away in shame and clenched his fists tight. His body wanted to move, to dance around her, inside her, everywhere with her, but he fought the urge. Every muscle in his body tensed as he refused to surrender. The white energy inside him sizzled and boiled, turning incredibly hot. He wanted to explode, to scream, to jump off the carpet and into her body, but he didn't give in to the urge. He couldn't.

She took him deeper into her mouth, her teeth scarping against his hardness. Another cry died brutally in his throat as he trashed beneath her, his back becoming red and raw after being scrubbed so roughly on the carpet below. He punched the floor, over and over, his eyes closed tight in an attempt to remain unaffected by her skilled tongue. He wanted to let go, so badly, but couldn't. He just couldn't!

“Don't fight this...” Adele whispered, withdrawing from him. He opened his eyes to look at her, his chest heaving up and down as he panted. “Just let go...”

“I can't!” he cried, his voice on the verge of desperation. His eyes shone sorrowfully, begging her to teach him, to show him, to help him surrender his iron control. His erection cried to for release, leaking badly. It throbbed so hard it hurt.

Adele looked down at his flushed features, feeling sorry for him. She removed her shorts and crawled towards him again. She straddled his hips and then slowly, carefully, took him inside of her. Heero threw his head back and his fists clenched tightly until his knuckled were white. He bit his lower lip to keep back a loud moan. He could feel her engulfing him, hot and moist, pulsing with life. He opened his mouth wide and gulped for air, breathless as she started to move around him. Up and down, over and over, in a slow, agonizing rhythm.

She was watching him, her features blank as she moved against him. Heero looked up at her, panting, sweat trickling down his temples and into his hair.

“Just let go.” She repeated, reaching a hand down to touch him. Her fingers hovered softly over his abdomen, slowly trailing up to his chest. She began moving faster, throwing more of her weight down on him. Heero let out a small sound and closed his eyes, turning his head away. He raised his hips up to meet her, thrusting himself deeper into her.

Adele let out a small moan and her head dropped limply down. Her breathing became heavier and her hands gripped him more strongly. Their bodies moved together in a maddened rhythm, their skin breaking sweat. The pure whiteness pumped through Heero's veins with each wild heartbeat, making his entire body tingle with intense sensations. Something powerful formed inside of him, getting too strong for him to control. He jerked beneath her, thrusting harder into her again and again and again. He was lost, his mind miles away from his body. Everything hurt and burnt with pleasure at the same time. His heart was beating so fast he felt as if he was being electrocuted. The torture was too much to bear and so he let go. He caved under the sensation and simply let go.

His body tensed, preparing to explode. Adele got off of him quickly but it was too late for him to realize the loss of her heat. Nothing existed. For a few seconds he simply died, right there and then. With a small whimper, barely contained, he came. He ceased to exist. For a few splits of a second there was pure, blessed nothing in the world. Just white sparkly fireflies dancing behind his closed eyes and rivers of fire flowing down his veins, pouring out of his body.

In that small instant he recalled the explosion that took him down at the end of the war. Wing Zero's crash felt vaguely the same, only then the fire brought pain and darkness. Now however, death was far more pleasurable. But short. Too short. In a matter of heartbeats he returned back to the living, slowly descending back to the floor where he lay, naked and shaking with the aftermath of sex.

He took a deep breath, like a drowning man who'd been revived, and opened his eyes. Adele was sitting next to him, completely bare, watching him with quiet eyes.

“How did that feel?” She asked, drawing nearer to him.

“Like dying...” Heero whispered, exhausted from his struggle against her.

Adele smiled. “La petite mort...”

Heero smiled back tiredly, his eyelids moving heavily up and down. He watched her reach her hand towards his groin and then realized that she didn't let him come inside her. He had ejaculated all over himself. Adele wiped some of his cum off with her finger. She turned to him and presented the thick white liquid to his face.

“Do you know what this is?”

Heero nodded, looking at her with a puzzled expression.

She smirked. “Well then, what is it?”

“...sperm.” He mumbled, embarrassment painted his cheeks red again.

“Your sperm.” Adele corrected. He nodded, still confused.

“It's much more than that, Heero.” She said and took his hand. She smeared the semen on his palm and turned to meet his eyes. “This is life, Heero. You're holding thousands of lives in your hand right now.”

His eyes widened briefly - remembering the lives he had taken - before narrowing into a thoughtful expression. “That's beautiful.” he whispered, awed, “I never thought about it that way.”

Adele smiled, a kind shine in her eyes. She lay down next to him and cuddled close to his body. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. She threw a hand over his chest and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” He whispered, looking down at the top of her red/green head.

“Hey, as long as you're paying...” She whispered teasingly, a nasty smile on her lips.

Heero rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“And you're buying the groceries tomorrow.”

He snorted. Looking down at her, his features softened into a small smile. He reached one hand over her - towards the bed - and pulled the blanket off it. He threw the blanket over the both of them and they both fell asleep on the carpet, fatigued from liquor and sex.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

To be continued...

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

(1) Narghile: An Eastern smoking pipe designed with a long tube passing through an urn of water that cools the smoke as it is drawn through. Also called Hubble-bubble, hookah.

French for `the little death', which means orgasm.