Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Ma Petite Mort ❯ Chapter 3
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Ma Petite Mort - Part 3 / 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
He didn't ask to stay, and Adele didn't ask him to leave. It was almost as if it was expected of him to go shopping the next morning while Adele showered. She even let him borrow a few of her more masculine, baggy, clothes, muttering something about how she didn't like him smelling like an old man when he wore his jacket.
When he returned to the apartment Adele was standing by the bed, wearing only a thong as she rummaged through her pile of clothes. He watched her dress, pulling her hair out of her shirt and throwing it over her shoulders. She walked into the kitchen and without a word unpacked the groceries he bought: a carton of milk, a baguette, some cheese, vegetables, minced meat and a large bag of tortilla chips. She gave him an infuriated look and then threw the snack at him in an almost disgusted manner. He caught it quickly and walked to the bed, uncaring that she wasn't pleased with his purchase. He liked it.
He settled down on the bed, next to her pile of clothes and opened the snack. For about an hour he simply lay on the bed, leaning on the headboard and munching on his snack. There was nothing better to do and he felt great knowing that. It was his little celebration of freedom. The plastic bag rattled each time he reached his hand inside. The sound seemed to annoy Adele. She gave him an angry glare and turned the stereo system on. When the soft New Age music began playing through the speakers she made an irritated `tsk' and violently pressed a button to change the CD. A husky French singer began singing her blues about life, love and death.
Adele threw herself on the beanbag and began making the arrangements to light up her hookah. Heero watch her silently as she placed a burning coal on the top and covered the head. Soon the room filled with the scent of fruit-flavored tobacco. She took the tube and blew air into the narghile before settling back more comfortably to start smoking.
“Are you angry with me?” Heero asked, looking at her sprawled on the beanbag, gazing at the ceiling as she smoked.
“No.” She grunted and took another lungful of flavored smoke through the pipe.
“I can leave.”
“You can stay. I don't mind.” She turned to look at him, raising her eyebrow in daring way. “Or do you have someplace better to be?”
He didn't bother with an answer. Instead he took a handful of tortillas and shoved them into his mouth. He leaned his head back to stare at the stains on the ceiling and continued eating silently.
Adele's mood seemed to lighten after a few more minutes of smoking. She reached a hand up to the stereo and changed a CD again. The player made a silent buzzing sound as it rotated the CDs inside before more cheerful melodies filled the room. Heero, who had been dozing off on the bed, opened his eyes to look at her.
“Are you hungry?” She asked, smiling at him.
“Not really,” he muttered, studying a large stain on the wallpaper above him.
“Well I am.” Adele informed him with a tone that hinted that she was expecting him to do something about it. He sighed.
“Do you want me to cook?”
“That will be great, thank you!” She called sweetly and turned to her smoking bottle. Heero watched her change the coal again. She then reached for a small plastic bag and added some grounded mixture of dry leaves to the tobacco. He frowned.
“Are those drugs?”
Adele didn't answer and tended the coal, moving it with a pair of metal forceps. “Just some marijuana.” She picked up the tube and offered it to him. “Want some?”
“No.” Heero grunted and got out of bed. He crossed the six steps distance into the kitchen and opened the mini fridge that was under the sink. He began chopping vegetables with fast and angry movements, making a whole lot of noise as the knife collided with the wooden cutting board. Adele didn't seem to be bothered by that and blew circles of smoke into the air. Pots and pan rattled as Heero searched for a decent pan and then slammed it on the stove. He didn't know why he was so angry, but he was. And he didn't give a shit about trying to hide it. He fried some beef with vegetables and stirred them with a wooden spoon. He didn't add any spices, not even salt, and then suddenly realized why he was so angry.
It was that stupid diet! He was cooking on automaton, preparing the food he had been taught to eat for most of his life. He didn't want that! He didn't want to fall back into the routine!
He whirled around and stalked over to the beanbag. In one fluid movement he snatched the smoking tube out of Adele's reach and inhaled a large intake of smoke.
Down below Adele watched him, her eyes wide like a pair of saucers.
Heero coughed and despite it sucked more smoke out of the tube. It tasted like fruits and it was sweet and sour in the same time. It scorched his throat as it went down and filled his lungs. Without a word he handed her back the tube and walked back to the stove. Adele followed him with her gaze, completely stunned.
“Are you all right?” She asked, her tone amused.
“Just fine,” Heero croaked with a voice hoarse from smoke. He reached for whatever spice he saw lying around the kitchen and added it to the dish. When he was satisfied with the taste he threw it all into a bowl and slammed it on the table. “Food's ready.” He grunted and threw himself into a chair.
His head hurt. He leaned his arm on the table and rested his head on it. He was a bit dizzy too.
“It smells wonderful.” Adele remarked cheerfully as she settled on the chair in front of him. She took her fork and ate without offering him any of it. Heero just sat there quietly and watched her eat. His brain was beginning to swim in a puddle inside his head. He was tired again.
“You should go to sleep.” Adele said with her mouth full and shoved more food inside. “You look like shit.”
Heero snorted. “Thanks a lot.” He muttered, still holding his head as if it would fall.
Adele shrugged and stuffed another forkful into her mouth. She chewed on it gracelessly, chompping with her mouth almost hanging open. Heero looked at her from between the fingers he was using to support his head. She was acting like a pig again.
“So,” she said, chewing loudly and waving her fork up and down, “you wanna have sex?”
Heero sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. “No.”
“Why not?” She asked innocently, leaning towards the bowl and digging around it with her fork.
“Because.”
“Because what?” She looked at him in question.
He turned away from her and struggled to get up. “I'm tired.”
“Oh. Well. Later then.” She said casually and shoved the fork into her mouth. “It'll be fun.”
“Yeah.” Heero mumbled as an answer, unsure of what exactly he was answering to. He didn't know what felt heavier, his head or the rest of his body. He dropped dead on the bed and was asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.
Awareness returned to him at the sound of a zipper being quickly shut. His eyelids flew open as one thought crossed clearly through his mind - Duo was leaving for a mission. No doubt about it. The baka always made so much noise when he tried to be quiet in the early morning hours. He sighed and turned to the source of the sound, a nasty comment waiting on the tip of his tongue. By the time he was facing the other side of the room he remembered. There was no Duo and no missions. The war was over. Adele was leaning over his duffle, wearing a tight leather mini-skirt and a shirt that revealed her bra. His money was in her hands as she moved quickly away from the duffle.
“Where are you going?” He asked with a voice that was still rough from sleep.
She jumped, startled, but tried to hide it by pushing her red/green hair back. “Out.”
“With my money.”
She turned to look at him, glaring with a pair of green/red eyes. “Yeah, with your money. Is that a problem?” She asked poisonously and without waiting for his answer she shoved the bills between her breasts. She walked to a small dresser with a mirror in front of it. The dresser was packed with junk and scattered cases of makeup and jewelry. He watched he smear makeup on hurriedly with swift, expert, movements. There was a glass of liquor on the table and when she was done putting her makeup she finished it with a gulp.
“Are you going out to the streets?” He dared asking.
Adele turned to him with a nasty smile. “Baby, why would I? I have you.”
“So where are you going?”
“What's it to you?” She asked in annoyance.
He had no answer for that so he looked away.
She chuckled. “Let me know when you get horny again.” She muttered sarcastically and left the apartment. Heero watched her leave and when the door closed with a silent `click' he closed his eyes and returned to sleep. He was beyond caring, about anything and everything. All he wanted was to rest.
After tossing in bed for almost an hour, Heero gave up on returning to the dark realm of sleep. Exhausted but awake, he crawled out of bed and walked around the apartment. There wasn't much room, merely a few steps in each direction. There was nothing to see but a horrid mess; Adele's things were scattered everywhere possible. Eventually he settled on the beanbag and sat there, staring at the narghile. Out of pure boredom. perhaps some sort of curiosity he wouldn't admit to, he lighted it up. Very carefully he followed the steps he saw Adele perform. When the head was ready - a coal burning on the tip, he reached for a nearby cabinet, the one with the stereo on top, and chose a package of strawberry flavored tobacco.
Hesitantly, he took the pipe and blew some air inside, making bubbles. He then settled Indian style on the beanbag and carefully started smoking. He had to learn how to inhale and exhale the smoke and after a while he got used to the sensation of the fruity warmth running through his airways. It tasted good and it was quite soothing to concentrate solely on breathing, like some form of meditation. Slowly his shoulders relaxed and he sat calmly on the beanbag, blowing bubbles and exhaling strawberry flavored smoke.
He looked out the window and gazed at the stars. He wasn't a romantic, never was and probably never will be, but there was something very calming about watching the stars. He often saw them as a battlefield, littered by hundreds of corpses and scorched mobile suits, but tonight he saw something else in them. Distant memories that were surprisingly pleasant.
His time on the space ship Peacemillion along with the other pilots. It was the first and only time he was ever part of a group. They were guerrilla fighters, they worked alone, but up there they fought together, as one, for the same purpose. He wondered how they were all doing.
Chances were, that they were a hundred times better than he was, lying on a battered beanbag in a prostitute's apartment, smoking from a narghile that was usually full of hash. He sighed and looked away from the window. For a few long moments he concentrated on the smoke, blowing air in and out of the pipe.
They all had a place to return to. Quatre had a home, a family. Trowa had the circus and Catharine, who was like family to him. Wufei was a loner, but he was sure that he managed, that he found a new cause to fight for. Probably to maintain the peace somehow. Maybe he was a Preventer, like Sally. He knew that they were fond of each other. Or at least, she was.
Turning back to the window, Heero wondered what Duo was doing with his life. He didn't have a place to return to, but he was always the type who managed no matter where he was. Starting a new life was probably not a problem for the likes of him. It hurt to admit, but he was envious of him. He always has been jealous of him, sometimes even angered by Duo's ability to adjust, to fit, to smile despite of everything. They were so different from each other. It was a wonder they became friends. Or at least, the closest thing to a friend Heero ever had.
Duo. Somehow it always came down to him. Duo did this and Duo did that. There was no reason to think about the baka. He wasn't important. He never was. If he had been, he would have waited for him when the war ended, like he did last time. But he didn't. He didn't. No one did. He didn't need them anyway; he was fine on his own. He had Adele, if only for the time being. He wasn't a fool, he knew that it won't last forever, but he will cross the bridge when he'll get to it. Duo used to say it with a maniacal grin on his face.
Heero sighed and looked away, refusing to think any longer. He was tired of thinking. He reached for the cabinet by his side and pulled out a bottle of tequila. Not bothering with a glass he opened it and took a long sip. Drinking didn't suit him, much like everything else he'd done in the past two days. Strangely enough, he didn't care.
He was at the end of his second head - mint flavored this time - when the door opened and Adele walked in. Heero was laying on the beanbag, sprawled like a lazy cat, a half empty bottle of liquor by his side. He didn't look up to acknowledge her and simply brought the smoking pipe to his mouth. He blew some air inside, making bubbles, before inhaling the smoke and releasing it languidly into the air. Adele stood by the door, watching him with amused eyes.
“Having fun, I see.”
Heero did not answer, but turned a pair of jaded eyes towards he. She smiled and came closer; he could smell the alcohol on her even from afar.
“Care if I joined your little party?” She settled comfortably by his side, forcing the beanbag to adjust to her weight as well. Heero sighed in annoyance when she ruined his perfectly comfortable position.
“Don't add anything to it.” He grunted and handed her the pipe. She chuckled.
“Of course not, I saw how you reacted to it last time.” She teased and took a long inhale of smoke.
Heero rolled his eyes and turned to stare at the tequila bottle on the floor.
“I brought you something,” Adele said and reached for her large black bag. Something rattled when she reached inside and Heero turned to face her again. She handed him a bag of tortilla chips.
“Barbeque flavor.” She said with a smile and opened the snack. She threw one into her mouth and then licked her fingers. “Not bad.”
“Give me those,” Heero grumbled and reached for the snack. Laughing, Adele took it out of his reach.
“I get the first honor, Monsieur Nobody.” She placed one chip between her lips and leaned towards him, feeding him from her lips. Heero did not refuse her invitation and their lips met when he rose to take a bite out of the chip. Adele pulled away, smiling. She handed him the bag and without a word he began munching on his favorite snack.
For a while they sat silently, Heero eating and Adele smoking her Hubble-bubble. She leaned over him and reached for the alcohol he'd been drinking. She noticed that it was half way empty.
“Do you know how expensive this shit it?” She asked in mild annoyance.
Heero threw another chip into his mouth and didn't even spare her a glance.
“Don't you be drinking my stuff alone.” She muttered and took a long gulp from the bottle.
“Don't spend my money on your own.” He retorted in an indifferent voice.
“What, we're having a fight? I don't remember marrying you, boy. I only fucked you once, that's all.”
Heero shoved more tortillas into his mouth. “I didn't ask you to.” He said with his mouth full. There was no annoyance in his voice. He was too drunk, too relaxed, to be angry with anyone.
“Ch.” She snorted and shoved her spiky hair out of her eyes. “Gosse ennuyant!” (= Annoying brat!)
“Sale putain.” (= Dirty whore.) He cursed back, uncaring.
She slapped him. Hard. His cheek burnt in red and he turned to glare at her. She glared back, her face contracted in anger. And then Heero yanked her towards him and pressed a firm kiss on her lips. She struggled against him, just for the fun of it, and he answered her struggles by crushing her wrists in his hands. They shifted on the beanbag, fighting for dominance, their tongues clashing in a heated battle.
By the end of their scuffle he had her pinned underneath him, lying on the beanbag with her head resting on the floor and her legs up in the air. They were both panting and bruised from violent, drunken, kisses. Gazes locked, they looked at each other without blinking as their bodies struggled for air.
Adele wrapped her long legs around him and pulled him closer. Panting, Heero allowed her to guide him closer until he was leaning just an inch above her, their noses nearly touching. He looked into her red/green eyes, feeling her hot breath tickle his throat. She reached up a hand to push his sweaty bangs aside.
“Are you going to fuck me now?”
He nodded hurriedly; so desperate that he didn't care much for talking. His mouth was hungry for her taste; his fingers ached for the feeling of her skin. His loins burnt, screaming for him to act, to move, to drown inside her body. He had little idea how his body knew what it wanted so badly, so precisely, so simply. It was wonderful to have no uncertainties, to know exactly what needed to be done. He wanted to die inside her again, to lose himself in that white heaven that obliterated everything else if only for a few splits of a second. He wanted her to kill him, so he moved against her, ripping her clothes off, tossing his own garments aside, lost in a world of heated flesh and savage feelings. Nothing existed but her sweaty body writhing beneath him, her voice screaming for him to move harder, faster, deeper. Orders he could oblige without any given thought. He ravaged her body, giving in to his own savage needs. He had one goal, and that was to lose himself again, to surrender to the little death she was offering him.
Dying had never felt better.
Days went by, forming into weeks. Heero remained with Adele, spending his days in bed and his nights in sin. Most of the time he lay sprawled on her bed, drinking or munching on his tortilla snacks. And having sex. A lot of it. Sometimes Adele danced for him, holding a glass of liquor in her hand, the ice rattling as she moved. He would sit on the beanbag, smoking from the narghile as she moved seductively around him, touching him, teasing him, driving him nuts until he could no longer restrain himself and he had to devour her. Not that he ever tried to restrain any of the needs she awakened in him. He was addicted to her, completely devoted to her taste, the feeling of her skin, the pleasure he got from dying inside her, over and over again.
Adele was his way of dealing - or rather, not dealing - with the wounds the war had left on him, in him. She became an addiction, along with the booze she poured into him and the pot she smoked in her hookah. She was his protective bubble, his shield from both the world and from himself. He did not think, didn't have to think, when he moved inside her. There wasn't any room for pain in his heart when all she gave him was pleasure. When she was not around, out doing whatever she did, he would go crazy, like a man on withdrawal. On some nights she took him out to a shady club where Heero usually sat by the bar with a drink and watched Adele dance and flirt with people. When she would get too cozy with someone he'd look away and gulp down a shot of liquor. Then they would go back to her place and he would ravage her body until sunrise and beyond.
He wasn't sure he knew who he was anymore. He spent most of his time without much of a sober awareness; living a life of pure need and wants. He indulged in it, drowned in it, doing everything he could to lose himself in it. As a person who knew nothing but rules, orders and discipline, he was easily addicted to the taste of freedom. Adele erased all of his confusion and pain. She was his gateway to liberty, a way out of the dark world he had been trapped in for as long as he could remember.
There was no love in what they did. There was hardly even an attraction between them. He was too young for her, as she often said, and she only enjoyed his inexperience. After sex she would often laugh and tell him that his virginal ways were something refreshing in her bed. She liked reminding him how much he had to learn and his reply was that she should teach him. He wasn't attracted to her either; she often disgusted him, mostly when she was high. The only thing he liked about her were the little deaths she offered. She was something simple and easy to achieve. She was something he could handle. In a way, she became his replacement for life.
It wasn't right and he knew it. It went against everything he'd been taught, every belief he had conjured for himself. He didn't care. Not one bit. Living like that was the only way for him to keep living. He liked the idea of doing the complete opposite of what he'd been taught, trained, to do. It was his way of showing the world - or maybe just himself - that he had the freedom to choose and no one could, or should, try to stop him. Life was his and his alone. He no longer wished for death, only for the little ones, the pleasurable ones, that made him forget of ever being alive.
He was still panting from their regular afternoon sex as Adele sat on the beanbag, waxing her legs. He sat on the Indian carpet, leaning against the bed, a large bag of tortilla chips in his naked lap. Unless they went outside, Heero hardly bothered to put his clothes back anymore. It was too much of a bother and he felt so much better without them. Droplets of sweat trailed down his skin, making it shine under the golden rays of the setting sun. His body was relaxed, slumped against the bed, basking in the numbing aftermath of sex. He ate his chips quietly, a content expression on his handsome face.
Adele smeared hot wax on her leg and presses a long white strip to it before she pulled it away quickly. Heero watched her, and winced.
“That looks painful.” He said, crunching down a crispy tortilla.
Adele snorted and reached for the jar of wax. “Yea. It hurts like a bitch.”
“So why do it?”
She smirked and looked up at him naughtily. “So you wouldn't mind wrapping my legs all around you while you thrust into me.”
It was Heero's turn to snort before he threw more chips into his mouth. “Ch. Like I care.”
“No one likes a broad with hairy legs. And, believe it or not, people work hard to feel attractive.”
He chewed on his chips silently for a while, contemplating her words. “I suppose that as long as you do it for your own sake then it's all right.”
Adele rolled her eyes and pulled another strip full of wax. “Oh, thank you for your approval, Monsieur Nobody.”
Heero shrugged her words off and continued eating, content with the peace that fell upon him.
“Do you feel attractive?” Adele suddenly asked and looked up at him in question.
Heero halted, holding a chip in mid-air. He slowly brought it to his lips and chewed thoughtfully. “I, ah... never thought about that before.”
“But you know you're good looking,” she snorted, “well, for a kid your age.”
Heero ignored her teasing comment and shook the bag in search for more tortillas. He made a sour face when he found it empty.
“It's not the same.” He finally answered and lifted the empty bag above his open mouth, to catch the falling crumbs.
“Of course not.” Adele agreed and smeared more hot wax on her leg. Smoothing it carefully, she looked up at him again. “So do you?”
Heero sighed in irritation and threw the empty bag away. “I said that I don't think about it.”
“You don't care how you look like?” She asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“No, I don't.”
“Well of course you don't,” she snarled, “it's because you know you're gorgeous.”
He turned to glare at her. “That's not the reason.”
She gave him a nasty, knowing, smile. “You should do something about those eyebrows.”
Heero rolled his eyes and looked away. “You're impossible. There's no use talking to you.” Instead of looking at her he decided to glare at the wall in front of him. He always enjoyed looking at her uniquely designed wallpaper. The colorful patterns never failed to mesmerize him.
“Ah... the truth hurts, doesn't it?” Adele continued teasing, “Is it really too much to demand of you men to work a little harder for us? Like we do for you?” She pulled out another strip and winced a little.
“You do it for the money, so why does it matter?” Heero grumbled, his gaze still fixed at the wall.
Adele laughed. “That's a great comeback, Heero. Very good.” She smeared more hot wax on her thigh, working in silence as she pressed another white strip to her skin and then winced as she pulled it away.
“Do you find me attractive?” She asked and threw the dirty strip away.
Heero sighed and shifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Not really.”
“Then why'd you fuck me?”
The ceiling failed to occupy his mind for more than a moment and he sighed, looking away. “I don't know.” He turned to look at her.
“I was drunk.”
Again she laughed at his answer. “That excuse doesn't work with you, Monsieur Heero. Even drunk you are too stressed out.”
He looked away, frowning. “I just needed...” he let out, his frown deepening as he searched for words, “...something.”
“And I was there to give it to ya.”
“Yeah.” Heero breathed as an answer, lowering his gaze to the carpet.
“How convenient.” She grumbled and pulled a wax strip forcefully.
The carpet was the most beautiful object she had in her apartment, Heero mused, running the tip of his fingers over its surface. It was soft and rich with colors. He still had marks on his back from when they quarreled passionately on the rug, but then again, so did she. Sometimes they were too rough, too demanding of each other's bodies. He was still recovering from nearly fatal injuries. Sometimes the sex was too wild for him to endure. And he liked it. He liked it a lot. It was a welcomed pain, a wonderful release.
“Do you masturbate?” Adele suddenly asked and he tensed at the sound of her voice. Slowly, he looked up at her.
“Why do you ask?”
She shrugged and returned her attention to her legs. “Everybody does, so I'm wondering.”
“It's not the same as sex.” He mumbled as an admission and Adele smiled softly.
“Of course it isn't.” She reached for some moisturizing cream and smeared it on her aching legs. “So why do you do it?”
“I don't know,” he began slowly, thoughtfully, “I can't help myself.”
She smiled again, almost kindly this time. “So you jerk off just to get it out of your system?”
Heero nodded slowly, his stare on the floor.
“What do you think about when you do it?” Adele asked after a while, her tone light and casual. Heero knew from his time with her that she had the most bizarre topics to speak about, and that she treated most taboos like a matter of fact.
Still, he couldn't help but frown at her question, unable to see the point behind the conversation. “What do you mean?” He asked and turned to look at her.
“Exactly what you heard. Do you think about anyone? About anything specific?”
“Not really...” He mumbled and looked away. It was still hard to be so open with her. With anyone, for that matter, but Adele was good practice.
“So it's a mechanical thing for ya?”
Heero bit his lower lips in thought. He tried hard to answer her questions simply because he wanted to know the answers himself. She never asked anything about his past, about his injuries, about his fear of contact and his inability to let go easily. She asked about little things, things only she seemed to care about or to notice. She asked questions that were hard to answer. He liked that and he tried his best to find an answer, not for her, but for himself.
“I... it's not that I want to think about... anything,” he said slowly, carefully, “I just want it to... to be over. Like you said - to get it out of my system.”
“So you do think.” Adele concluded for him as she picked up a small hand-mirror and a pair of tweezers. Looking at the mirror, she began pluck her eyebrows.
“So what do you think about?” she repeated her question, “What turns you on enough to touch yourself?”
“I don't think about it so I can masturbate.” He looked at the wall again, almost desperate to find an answer. “It just... comes to me when I'm...”
“Under the shower jerking off.” She finished with a smirk on her face and he turned to glare at her.
“If you must be so blunt, yes, that's right.”
He sighed deeply and turned away. There was silence for a few minutes as Adele tweaked her red/green eyebrows and Heero studied the patterns on the walls. The city hum drifted through the open window, cars passing by and people shouting down in the street below. The sun was sinking behind tall gothic buildings, shedding a last few rays of gold into the small apartment. They washed over Heero's nude body in warm, tingly waves, caressing his skin as if kissing him goodnight. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, absorbing everything into himself. It helped him relax.
“There was this guy...” He suddenly let out, so relaxed that he hardly even realized that he had found his answer.
“A guy, huh?” Adele smirked and her eyes lit up in mischief.
“Would you shut up and listen?!” He growled and she laughed, lifting her hands - with the mirror and tweezers - up in surrender.
He relaxed again - it was getting easier to do that - and turned to look at the wall. “He was my roommate in the school dorms.” He continued slowly, remembering. “He brought a girl to our room one night... he thought I was asleep.”
“Ahh...” Adele let out in understanding. “So you had to listen to them fuck.”
Heero took a deep breath, recalling the events. “They were really quiet about it, but still... I could hear... everything.” He licked his lower lip that had suddenly turned dry. “Sheets, clothes, moaning... I heard it all.”
“And it turned you on.” As always, there was no accusation or mockery in her voice.
Heero bowed his head and nodded slowly. “I never felt anything like that before...”
“Is that when you started masturbating?”
He sighed, looking down at his fingers. “I couldn't help it.”
Adele smiled in understanding. “Who do you think about when you do it?”
He stared at the floor in thought, running that memory through his head. The darkness left so much for his imagination. The sound of sheets rustling, the mattress creaking under their slow, passionate, movements. But most of all there was the sound of their heavy breathing. The little grunts Duo let out, the small sounds he drew out of his mate. The sound of heavy breathing swirled in his head, hot and stinging like a summer storm. Duo's breathing was so much louder than the girl's. His voice drowned everything else.
When he touched himself, his breathing would fall into sync with Duo's as he played the memory in his head. Those hot, desperate panting echoed in the hollows of his mind as he brushed his hand over his arousal, sinking into the memory over and over again.
He shuddered, trying to keep himself from gaining another erection. He was too tired for it now.
“Is it the girl or the guy?” Adele insisted, plucking a few red hairs out of her eyebrow.
“Neither.” Heero answered quietly, “I didn't see any of it.”
“Hmm.” Adele let out thoughtfully as finished tweaking her eyebrows. “I guess it doesn't really matter, as long as it helped you discover your sex drive.”
He snorted. “Sex isn't that important.”
Adele got up, tweezers and mirror in hand. “No, it's not.”
She settled on the carpet behind him and placed two hands on his shoulders to gently turn him to her. He leaned back without question, knowing well that she liked to play games, and in most odd positions too. She bent down to kiss him, moving with him as he leaned all the way back until his head rested on her lap. He looked up at her blankly, dazed by her kiss.
Adele smiled and ran a hand through his fine hair, wrapping the thick brown strings around her fingers. She teased him a lot about his hair, telling him that it made him look like a child, which he was, according to her. He closed his eyes and let her play with his hair. It was very soothing. She tousled his bangs, her fingers brushing against the stitches on his forehead. He needed to get them removed.
When she pushed his bangs aside, clearing them out of his face, he opened his eyes to look at her. There was a cocky smile on her lips and he knew that she was up to no good. She raised the tweezers and he frowned at her as a warning.
Adele, however, never heeded his warnings.
“Now, lets do something about those eyebrows...”
She plucked the first group even before he had time to blink and he jumped, unused to such pain. Adele had taught him many new things about his body and this time was no different. He winced as she plucked the hairs from his eyebrows in quick, expert movements until finally he got used to the pain. He closed his eyes and his frown deepened, though he let her do as she wished.
“You're insane.” He mumbled and she laughed.
“What?! Now you notice?!”
O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O
To be continued...
O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O
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