Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Midnight Raven ❯ Chapter 13

I know, I know, I haven't posted in a while-midterms and problems with Kadril. Again, I went to my more reliable muse, Chrislea. Also, big thanks to Luc for all his help.

Anyway, since the story is coming close to the end (don't worry, we still have a week in story-time 'til the mission, must less the after-mission frolicking) I thought I'd get a head start and ask what ya'll thought about an optional lemon or two? Nothing that would interfere with the plot if you didn't want to read it, just a bonus if you did. Tell me what you think, either as a review or an email (Jai-chan@yyhmail.com)

Okay, I still own nobody. But I promise to put them back where I found them when I'm done playing with them.

~Midnight Raven~

Chapter 14

The evening approached, and leather and fishnet and vinyl were donned. Heero and Duo arrived at the Midnight Raven together and hit the floor, dancing even more provocatively than the previous night. Whenever Takei loomed, Duo would find some way to hide behind his "new seme" by making a comfortable intimate movement, a small kiss, a nibble on the earlobe, or whatever else he could think to do. Takei would visibly seethe and glare menacingly, but he walked away each time.

Halfway through the night, Trowa and Quatre staggered in, behaving as if they'd already been to another bar and had a few drinks. Considering that the Arabian was Muslim and didn't drink, he must have been quite the actor. The two found there way to a comfy little table a dark corner between the dance floor and one of the doors to the basement lab.

Perched on his boyfriend's lap, Quatre waved over a waitress. . .er, waiter. . .er, something. It was either a really good drag, or a really happy yaoi fangirl. It was difficult to tell. The blond pilot picked up his love's hand and pushed two fingers up, to indicate how many drinks they would like.

"Oh, no you don't," Trowa cooed. "No more for you. You're a sleepy drunk."

"And what's wrong with that?" Quatre countered. The green-eyed boy whispered something in his ear, and he turned red. "Oh. Okay, then just one," he said to the. . .whatever. Then to Trowa, he murmured, "But you owe me." Again, there was whispering and blushing as to just what was owed.

The waitperson passed close to the dance floor on the way to fill the order. Duo, dancing with the gorgeous Japanese boy, overheard a squealed "kawaii." `Huhn. I guess it was a fangirl after all. Looks like I owe Heero a coke. Impressive. It's not everyday I lose a game of Guess the Gender(1).'

The night wore on. "Be back in a minute," the violet-eyed boy breathed, "gotta hit the little boys' room."

"Do you mind if I say something?" Duo recognized the voice, so he didn't turn from the urinal to face the unibanged pilot.

"If you say `nice dick,' I'll slug you and tell your little boyfriend." `Gotta keep up appearances.

Duo could hear the smile on the boy's face as he replied, "No, nothing like that. I wanted to offer you some advice. About that boy out there."

At this point, the braided boy couldn't figure out if he was speaking as Trowa Barton-the stoic pilot, or Alexander Shimmerman-the fictitious accountant from the East side. So he asked, "What kind of advice?"

"That boy wants you as much as you want him. If you're practiced as a tease, then use it. It'll put him into a state. Trust me, I know his type."

Trowa washed his hands and left. Duo forced his wide violet eyes to blink. `What the-Who was he, and what did he do with Tro? Is he right?' He thought about it for a second and came to the conclusion that it couldn't hurt to try.

Duo found Heero near the edge of the floor waiting for him. With a feral grin plastered across his pouty lips, he grabbed the blue-eyed boy by the belt loops and dragged him into the mesh of bodies. Instead of their usual dancing position, however, the braided boy spooned up behind his partner. "Patrick, what are you-" the pilot began to protest, but seemed to lose his voice mid-phrase.

"Just relax, babe," Duo purred in his ear, as his slipped his hands into the boy's pockets. He felt more than heard the small, strangled noise in the back of Heero's throat. Inside the pockets, his hands stroked lazily at his thighs, working slowly toward the center. He felt it. He was hard and huge. "Wow," Duo breathed in his ear as he traced his tongue over the delicate earlobe, "you really are the Perfect Soldier." For emphasis he gave the organ a squeeze.

Blue eyes flew wide open. "Relax," Duo cooed. He continued to slowly nibble on his neck and slowly molest the soldier. Heero started to pant, his breath catching when the hands at his crotch stroked harder and whimpering when they touched lighter.

Heero was on the edge, Duo could feel it in the way he trembled. `Perfect.' As any true tease would do, the braided boy removed his hands and walked away.

The Japanese boy swayed uneasily, knees not quite willing to work. He turned and glared as the braid disappeared into the crowd on its way to the bar.

Duo hopped up on a bar stool and ordered a shot, grinning impishly. He was nursing on the drink when Heero finally regained use of his legs and wondered over to him. "Hey Patrick?"

"Yes, Jon?" he answered, his voice dripping utter sweetness. `All I need is my halo,' Duo smirked internally.

He leaned over to the violet-eyed boy's ear, and, in his huskiest, sexiest voice, whispered, "Omae o korosu, Duo."

"Why Jon, whatever do you mean?" he followed his overly-angelic statement with a mischievous wink at the bartender. He then, very purposefully, leaned over the bar, his cute little hind end bent toward his frustrated partner, and grabbed a condom from the cute little basket with the safe-sex slogans pasted all over it. He coyly placed it in Heero's hand. "We'll be needing this." He brushed past him and through the door.

(1) Have you ever played? It's not a board game or anything, it's just fun to see if people (especially those not in the fangirl culture) can figure out what gender someone is. Just take a picture of a bishie (anyone from Kurama to Mana) and ask random people what gender it is. It's fun. But I didn't come up with it-this is a Chrislea idea.