Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ voodoo kiss ❯ voodoo kiss 9/? ( Chapter 9 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: holyfalling 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Comedy | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.01.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.8K | Visits: 274 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Comedy | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.01.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.8K | Visits: 274 | Status: Work In Progress
title:: voodoo kiss 9/?
author:: Psyence
rating:: NC-17
pairings:: 1x2, 3x4, mentions of 2x5
disclaimer:: go on, sue me. I dare you.
summary:: in which Heero is socio-phobic, Duo is annoyingly persistent, Quatre meddles, Trowa helps, Wufei hinders and Relena gets in the way.
warnings:: yaoi, AU, strong language, lemons, humour, strange plot, major UST.
Notes: again, thanks to K Witchwolf, who puts up with my bad spelling and grammar xP
###
Relena shrieked as if the vomit on her shoes was actually acid, but she didn't move from the spot. Instead, she stood still and watched in screaming horror as the contents of Heero's stomach came up for a second round. He gagged nosily and gasped for breath, staring at the colourful array of vomit on Relena's once-expensive looking beige coloured heeled brogues. His eyes traveled up her sick-splattered stocking-clad legs, and then up the knee-high sea green tea dress that she was wearing, and then to her face.
Relena's face scared Heero more than the fact that he had just thrown up on someone. She didn't look angry. Yes, she looked a little disgusted, but more than anything she just looked love struck. Relena's eyes were telling Heero, loud and clear, that Relena felt almost blessed that Heero had thrown up on her. The thought occurred to him that he should probably apologize, but the words got stuck in his throat, and ‘survival mode Heero’ kicked in instead of ‘dreadfully apologetic Heero’ (who may not even have existed in the first place). So, instead of offering to clean up the mess and pay for any damage, Heero stood up, skittered around Relena and slipped up on his own sick. He gasped at Relena for support, sending her down into the mess pooled around her feet. She landed in the vomit with a loud squishing sound, and then just looked all out revolted. A moment before Heero turned and fled the scene, he saw her lift her sick-covered hands and stare dumbfoundedly at them. Heero was yanking the front door open when he heard her call his name faintly.
"Sorry!" he shouted back, before slamming the door behind himself and running full tilt down the corridor.
Heero escaped Relena's apartment and ran in a long straight line away from the building. He didn't care where he was going; only that it was away from Relena. After about ten minutes he realised that he was hopelessly lost and stopped. He tried asking for directions, but it seemed that no one really wanted to talk to someone who had remnants of vomit splashed up their trouser legs. And then, of course, when Heero realised /that/ he almost wept at what Quatre's reaction would be. Heero didn't know if Quatre was going to be angrier about Heero throwing up on Relena or Heero throwing up on the expensive trousers he had leant him. So Heero resorted to simply walking forwards, mulling over his lost date with Duo. It was then that Heero had realised where he was - just down the street from Quality Menswear for Grooms to be. Heero stopped dead in his tracks and thought about turning back and finding a different route home, but the thought of his own warm, comfy and safe apartment just ten minutes away was too much for him.
So Heero found himself slinking stealthily across the road, in order to walk on the other side in the hopes that Quatre wouldn't see him pass. The heavy rush hour traffic was hampering Heero greatly though, and he ended up having to half run, half stealth across the road. This made him appear slightly slow in the head, since he was forced to stop in the middle of the busy road, crouched low so as to obscure Quatre's possible view of him, and with cars passing either side of him, their drivers honking their horns angrily. Heero eventually made it to the other side of the road, only to turn around, still crouched low, and see Quatre standing outside the shop, arms crossed over his chest, one hip out at a jaunty angle and a very confused look on his face.
Heero considered running, but the shoes stopped him. He even took one step forward, intending to bolt, and then his feet cried in discomfort. Quatre had started tapping his foot in annoyance. Even from the distance Heero was at, he could see the irritation on Quatre's face. Heero thought it better to face him sooner rather than later, so he crossed back over to Quatre's side. He took his time about it though.
"What in /God's/ name do you think you're doing, Heero Yuy?" Quatre snapped, grabbing Heero by the elbow and squeezing tightly. Heero's mouth fell open in pain and shock. He managed to shake Quatre off (he was not amused by this though) and hesitated as Quatre held the shop door open.
"Get in here /now/," Quatre ordered. Heero saw Trowa peek his head out from the back room and stepped into the shop, thinking that if he was to be shredded by Quatre's evil tongue he would at least have Trowa there to lessen the blows a little. Quatre shoved Heero down into one of the plush chairs and stood in front of him, hands on hips.
"Quatre, you sound like his mother," Trowa admonished, coming out from the back room. Heero noted that he was still behind the counter though, and he thought he knew why - it acted as a barrier against Quatre.
"I may as well be, because I swear his didn't teach him anything!" Quatre's voice was rising sharply. Heero opened his mouth to object, but Quatre cut him off. "This is the /second/ time you've run from her now - no! No! It's the third! How dare you, how /dare/ you!" Quatre was all out shouting now.
"He hasn't done anything wrong, Quatre," Trowa soothed, but his usual peace-making tone didn't help matters at all this time. Quatre had reached a level of anger that Trowa had rarely encountered before.
"Hasn't done anything! /I'll/ say! I set you up with the /perfect/ girl, and what do you do? You make her feel like a gargoyle by running away from her! What must she think now? Oh! Milliardo is going to /kill/ me!" Quatre threw his hands up in disgust and turned his back on Heero, who had no response at all.
"Milliardo is not going to kill you, Quatre," Trowa tried again. Heero saw Trowa flinch slightly and could only imagine the glare that Quatre had just sent him.
"I had to /beg/ him to let me to set up another date with /him/," Quatre said, waving a hand behind himself to indicate Heero. "Relena was in /floods/ of tears because of the other times, and Milliardo said he would only allow another date if it was going to be a real one. So, yes, he /is/ going to kill me!" Quatre turned back to Heero, fire in his eyes, and raked his eyes over Heero.
Heero hung his head in shame, because he couldn't think of anything else to do. He had no sympathy for Relena and her floods of tears, because he knew now that nothing short of a nuclear attack would deter her. Although he hoped that vomit ridden shoes would suffice.
"/What/ is that?" Quatre asked tersely, breaking Heero's train of thought. He followed Quatre's pointing finger to the vomit splattered up his legs and felt his stomach drop out again.
"It's, uh, it's nothing," he attempted. The force of Quatre's glare made Heero revise his answer. "It's sick," he mumbled. Quatre took a second to process his answer and then stood stock still for a moment. Then he ran a hand over his face, turned and stormed through into the back room, like a vicious tornado.
Trowa paused for a minute and then whispered, in an almost awed voice, "Sick?"
He came around the counter and sat in the chair next to Heero. He examined the trousers cautiously and then, amazingly, quirked a smile at Heero.
"How?" he asked, still quietly. Heero closed his eyes and sighed.
"I threw up on her. On her feet. I got some on me," he explained. A bubble of laughter escaped Trowa before he could stifle it. "I'm glad you think it's funny," Heero said in a deadpan voice.
"Well ... It /sort of/ is," Trowa said with a slight shrug.
"She's insane, Trowa, she's actually in/sane/. She came to my apartment before and almost forced herself on me!" Heero whispered hurriedly, worried that Quatre would reappear to flay him.
"Stay away from her," Trowa answered seriously. "Whatever happened to-" Trowa began, and then Quatre could be heard stampeding through the back room towards them. "Go, go!" Trowa urged. Heero didn't need telling twice.
###
As soon as the front door to Heero's apartment had closed he toed off his painful shoes and dropped his sick stained trousers. He kicked them across the floor and then walked towards the bedroom, working on his tie as he went. By the time he reached the bed he was removing his shirt, and then he pulled the covers on the bed back and climbed in. He fell asleep almost instantly.
Heero awoke the next morning to the sound of his phone ringing. He groaned and pulled the duvet over his head, intent on going back to sleep. The call ended and the answering machine, that Heero had forgotten he even owned, began to pick up the person's message. Heero heard his own voice, slightly tinged with anger because the machine had confounded him greatly when he had been recording the message.
"Leave a message," Heero's voice said on the machine. And then, "Now." There was a loud beep and silence for a second.
"Hey Heero, it's Duo," the machine said. Heero eyes snapped open. He threw back the covers and leapt out of bed, skidding into the living room.
"Just calling to let you know that I don't appreciate being stood up, but that I'm gonna give you another chance," Duo was saying. Heero hovered next to the machine, hopping anxiously from one foot to the other, desperately debating whether he should pick up or not.
"Anyway, you got my number now, so just gimmie a call back. Sometime soon I hope. See ya, babe." Heero grabbed the phone just as Duo hung up.
"Hello?" he asked loudly, as if shouting down the receiver would work. Heero threw down the handset and stalked angrily into the bathroom, cursing as he went.
###
Two hours later Heero was sitting next to the phone, replaying Duo's message over and over, worrying at his thumbnail. He knew that all he would have to do was call Duo back and apologize, but it was the reason that was bothering Heero. He couldn't exactly say 'Sorry I didn't pick you up last night, I was at another date that I didn't want to be on. Don't worry though; I got out of it by throwing up on her feet. Unfortunately I was too late to pick you up and, besides, I was emotionally and physically scarred by the experience and needed a good twelve hours of sleep to return to any semi-normal state of consciousness. When do you want me to pick you up?' Heero envisioned Duo hanging up on him at that point and never calling or seeing him again. Duo would probably spread the information around town and then nobody would ever want to speak, let alone date, Heero again.
Heero was working on removing his thumbnail entirely when the phone rang again. Heero stopped his nail biting and stared dumbly at the phone thinking that he should pick it up, but afraid to because if it was Duo he still didn't have a good excuse. Just when the rational part of his brain had kicked the irrational half into submission and Heero was about to answer, the machine picked up again.
"Hey," Duo's voice said. "I'm starting to think you're ignoring me, man. I might have to teach you a lesson if you don't pick up." There was a pause and Heero moaned inwardly. "C'mon ... Pick up the phone, Heero." Duo's voice dropped to a low, sexy tone and made Heero's heart beat quicken. Without even considering the consequences he reached out and grabbed the phone.
"Hey," Heero said quietly.
"Hey yourself," Duo answered, a slightly pleased note to his voice. He obviously knew that Heero had been sitting by the phone listening to his sex voice. "What's up?" Duo asked. "You got something against me?"
"No," Heero replied instantly. "I'm, er, sorry about last night. Something, er, came up." Heero cringed at his bad excuse, but Duo just laughed heartily.
"Yeah, right. Sure you didn't just get cold feet like with that chick?" Heero could hear the smirk. He felt the familiar rush of anger that came with speaking to Duo, and a cold flush of embarrassment because he had figured him out so easily.
"Fuck you," Heero said instinctively. Duo didn't reply for a few moments.
"I'd like that, Heero," Duo answered eventually, with the same low and sexy voice that had made Heero answer the phone in the first place. Heero felt his cock twinge at the voice. "Meet me tomorrow. My place. Eight." And then he was gone. Heero held the receiver against his ear, with a sense of déjà vu, and let out a long, slow sigh. He placed the handset back on the cradle with shaky hands, and stood up. He went over to the couch and sat down slowly.
'I'm seeing him tomorrow,' Heero thought as his brain rebooted and began processing the information it had been given. "Fuck," Heero said aloud. He remembered Duo's voice and flushed hot pink. He sat back against the couch and closed his eyes, ready to indulge himself in a new fantasy.
Heero imagined Duo with him on the couch. He imagined that he was on top of Duo, straddling him and grinding against him. Heero quickly unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans and brought his already hard cock out into his eager palm. He stroked himself twice, hard, and then went back to the fantasy. Duo was moaning into Heero's mouth, through a heated kiss. Heero had one hand up Duo's T-shirt, rolling his nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Heero mimicked the motion on himself and worked himself harder, knowing that he wouldn't last long with this new fantasy.
Heero had removed Duo's T-shirt now and was biting his neck, almost hard enough to break the skin, and Duo loved it. He gasped loudly and gripped Heero’s shoulder with one hand, breath hitching in his throat as he pressed his trouser-clad cock up against Heero's. Heero tongued the bite mark that he had left on Duo's long, pale neck and moved down to his nipples, flicking his tongue against one before biting down on it. Duo cried out and bucked up against Heero.
In real life, Heero let out a half strangled moan and squeezed his eyes shut, moving his hand up to the head of his cock and working just that instead. He imagined Duo panting beneath him, and then crying out wildly.
"Fuck me!" Duo cried in Heero's imagination, and dragged his nails across Heero's back. Heero came in hot, almost painful bursts. He groaned loudly, pumping himself until every last drop had been squeezed out.
Heero's post-orgasm brain was fuzzy around the edges, and all he could think about was Duo crying 'fuck me!' to him. It was then that Heero realised that, tomorrow, Duo might just do that. It was then that the nerves set in. Again.
author:: Psyence
rating:: NC-17
pairings:: 1x2, 3x4, mentions of 2x5
disclaimer:: go on, sue me. I dare you.
summary:: in which Heero is socio-phobic, Duo is annoyingly persistent, Quatre meddles, Trowa helps, Wufei hinders and Relena gets in the way.
warnings:: yaoi, AU, strong language, lemons, humour, strange plot, major UST.
Notes: again, thanks to K Witchwolf, who puts up with my bad spelling and grammar xP
###
Relena shrieked as if the vomit on her shoes was actually acid, but she didn't move from the spot. Instead, she stood still and watched in screaming horror as the contents of Heero's stomach came up for a second round. He gagged nosily and gasped for breath, staring at the colourful array of vomit on Relena's once-expensive looking beige coloured heeled brogues. His eyes traveled up her sick-splattered stocking-clad legs, and then up the knee-high sea green tea dress that she was wearing, and then to her face.
Relena's face scared Heero more than the fact that he had just thrown up on someone. She didn't look angry. Yes, she looked a little disgusted, but more than anything she just looked love struck. Relena's eyes were telling Heero, loud and clear, that Relena felt almost blessed that Heero had thrown up on her. The thought occurred to him that he should probably apologize, but the words got stuck in his throat, and ‘survival mode Heero’ kicked in instead of ‘dreadfully apologetic Heero’ (who may not even have existed in the first place). So, instead of offering to clean up the mess and pay for any damage, Heero stood up, skittered around Relena and slipped up on his own sick. He gasped at Relena for support, sending her down into the mess pooled around her feet. She landed in the vomit with a loud squishing sound, and then just looked all out revolted. A moment before Heero turned and fled the scene, he saw her lift her sick-covered hands and stare dumbfoundedly at them. Heero was yanking the front door open when he heard her call his name faintly.
"Sorry!" he shouted back, before slamming the door behind himself and running full tilt down the corridor.
Heero escaped Relena's apartment and ran in a long straight line away from the building. He didn't care where he was going; only that it was away from Relena. After about ten minutes he realised that he was hopelessly lost and stopped. He tried asking for directions, but it seemed that no one really wanted to talk to someone who had remnants of vomit splashed up their trouser legs. And then, of course, when Heero realised /that/ he almost wept at what Quatre's reaction would be. Heero didn't know if Quatre was going to be angrier about Heero throwing up on Relena or Heero throwing up on the expensive trousers he had leant him. So Heero resorted to simply walking forwards, mulling over his lost date with Duo. It was then that Heero had realised where he was - just down the street from Quality Menswear for Grooms to be. Heero stopped dead in his tracks and thought about turning back and finding a different route home, but the thought of his own warm, comfy and safe apartment just ten minutes away was too much for him.
So Heero found himself slinking stealthily across the road, in order to walk on the other side in the hopes that Quatre wouldn't see him pass. The heavy rush hour traffic was hampering Heero greatly though, and he ended up having to half run, half stealth across the road. This made him appear slightly slow in the head, since he was forced to stop in the middle of the busy road, crouched low so as to obscure Quatre's possible view of him, and with cars passing either side of him, their drivers honking their horns angrily. Heero eventually made it to the other side of the road, only to turn around, still crouched low, and see Quatre standing outside the shop, arms crossed over his chest, one hip out at a jaunty angle and a very confused look on his face.
Heero considered running, but the shoes stopped him. He even took one step forward, intending to bolt, and then his feet cried in discomfort. Quatre had started tapping his foot in annoyance. Even from the distance Heero was at, he could see the irritation on Quatre's face. Heero thought it better to face him sooner rather than later, so he crossed back over to Quatre's side. He took his time about it though.
"What in /God's/ name do you think you're doing, Heero Yuy?" Quatre snapped, grabbing Heero by the elbow and squeezing tightly. Heero's mouth fell open in pain and shock. He managed to shake Quatre off (he was not amused by this though) and hesitated as Quatre held the shop door open.
"Get in here /now/," Quatre ordered. Heero saw Trowa peek his head out from the back room and stepped into the shop, thinking that if he was to be shredded by Quatre's evil tongue he would at least have Trowa there to lessen the blows a little. Quatre shoved Heero down into one of the plush chairs and stood in front of him, hands on hips.
"Quatre, you sound like his mother," Trowa admonished, coming out from the back room. Heero noted that he was still behind the counter though, and he thought he knew why - it acted as a barrier against Quatre.
"I may as well be, because I swear his didn't teach him anything!" Quatre's voice was rising sharply. Heero opened his mouth to object, but Quatre cut him off. "This is the /second/ time you've run from her now - no! No! It's the third! How dare you, how /dare/ you!" Quatre was all out shouting now.
"He hasn't done anything wrong, Quatre," Trowa soothed, but his usual peace-making tone didn't help matters at all this time. Quatre had reached a level of anger that Trowa had rarely encountered before.
"Hasn't done anything! /I'll/ say! I set you up with the /perfect/ girl, and what do you do? You make her feel like a gargoyle by running away from her! What must she think now? Oh! Milliardo is going to /kill/ me!" Quatre threw his hands up in disgust and turned his back on Heero, who had no response at all.
"Milliardo is not going to kill you, Quatre," Trowa tried again. Heero saw Trowa flinch slightly and could only imagine the glare that Quatre had just sent him.
"I had to /beg/ him to let me to set up another date with /him/," Quatre said, waving a hand behind himself to indicate Heero. "Relena was in /floods/ of tears because of the other times, and Milliardo said he would only allow another date if it was going to be a real one. So, yes, he /is/ going to kill me!" Quatre turned back to Heero, fire in his eyes, and raked his eyes over Heero.
Heero hung his head in shame, because he couldn't think of anything else to do. He had no sympathy for Relena and her floods of tears, because he knew now that nothing short of a nuclear attack would deter her. Although he hoped that vomit ridden shoes would suffice.
"/What/ is that?" Quatre asked tersely, breaking Heero's train of thought. He followed Quatre's pointing finger to the vomit splattered up his legs and felt his stomach drop out again.
"It's, uh, it's nothing," he attempted. The force of Quatre's glare made Heero revise his answer. "It's sick," he mumbled. Quatre took a second to process his answer and then stood stock still for a moment. Then he ran a hand over his face, turned and stormed through into the back room, like a vicious tornado.
Trowa paused for a minute and then whispered, in an almost awed voice, "Sick?"
He came around the counter and sat in the chair next to Heero. He examined the trousers cautiously and then, amazingly, quirked a smile at Heero.
"How?" he asked, still quietly. Heero closed his eyes and sighed.
"I threw up on her. On her feet. I got some on me," he explained. A bubble of laughter escaped Trowa before he could stifle it. "I'm glad you think it's funny," Heero said in a deadpan voice.
"Well ... It /sort of/ is," Trowa said with a slight shrug.
"She's insane, Trowa, she's actually in/sane/. She came to my apartment before and almost forced herself on me!" Heero whispered hurriedly, worried that Quatre would reappear to flay him.
"Stay away from her," Trowa answered seriously. "Whatever happened to-" Trowa began, and then Quatre could be heard stampeding through the back room towards them. "Go, go!" Trowa urged. Heero didn't need telling twice.
###
As soon as the front door to Heero's apartment had closed he toed off his painful shoes and dropped his sick stained trousers. He kicked them across the floor and then walked towards the bedroom, working on his tie as he went. By the time he reached the bed he was removing his shirt, and then he pulled the covers on the bed back and climbed in. He fell asleep almost instantly.
Heero awoke the next morning to the sound of his phone ringing. He groaned and pulled the duvet over his head, intent on going back to sleep. The call ended and the answering machine, that Heero had forgotten he even owned, began to pick up the person's message. Heero heard his own voice, slightly tinged with anger because the machine had confounded him greatly when he had been recording the message.
"Leave a message," Heero's voice said on the machine. And then, "Now." There was a loud beep and silence for a second.
"Hey Heero, it's Duo," the machine said. Heero eyes snapped open. He threw back the covers and leapt out of bed, skidding into the living room.
"Just calling to let you know that I don't appreciate being stood up, but that I'm gonna give you another chance," Duo was saying. Heero hovered next to the machine, hopping anxiously from one foot to the other, desperately debating whether he should pick up or not.
"Anyway, you got my number now, so just gimmie a call back. Sometime soon I hope. See ya, babe." Heero grabbed the phone just as Duo hung up.
"Hello?" he asked loudly, as if shouting down the receiver would work. Heero threw down the handset and stalked angrily into the bathroom, cursing as he went.
###
Two hours later Heero was sitting next to the phone, replaying Duo's message over and over, worrying at his thumbnail. He knew that all he would have to do was call Duo back and apologize, but it was the reason that was bothering Heero. He couldn't exactly say 'Sorry I didn't pick you up last night, I was at another date that I didn't want to be on. Don't worry though; I got out of it by throwing up on her feet. Unfortunately I was too late to pick you up and, besides, I was emotionally and physically scarred by the experience and needed a good twelve hours of sleep to return to any semi-normal state of consciousness. When do you want me to pick you up?' Heero envisioned Duo hanging up on him at that point and never calling or seeing him again. Duo would probably spread the information around town and then nobody would ever want to speak, let alone date, Heero again.
Heero was working on removing his thumbnail entirely when the phone rang again. Heero stopped his nail biting and stared dumbly at the phone thinking that he should pick it up, but afraid to because if it was Duo he still didn't have a good excuse. Just when the rational part of his brain had kicked the irrational half into submission and Heero was about to answer, the machine picked up again.
"Hey," Duo's voice said. "I'm starting to think you're ignoring me, man. I might have to teach you a lesson if you don't pick up." There was a pause and Heero moaned inwardly. "C'mon ... Pick up the phone, Heero." Duo's voice dropped to a low, sexy tone and made Heero's heart beat quicken. Without even considering the consequences he reached out and grabbed the phone.
"Hey," Heero said quietly.
"Hey yourself," Duo answered, a slightly pleased note to his voice. He obviously knew that Heero had been sitting by the phone listening to his sex voice. "What's up?" Duo asked. "You got something against me?"
"No," Heero replied instantly. "I'm, er, sorry about last night. Something, er, came up." Heero cringed at his bad excuse, but Duo just laughed heartily.
"Yeah, right. Sure you didn't just get cold feet like with that chick?" Heero could hear the smirk. He felt the familiar rush of anger that came with speaking to Duo, and a cold flush of embarrassment because he had figured him out so easily.
"Fuck you," Heero said instinctively. Duo didn't reply for a few moments.
"I'd like that, Heero," Duo answered eventually, with the same low and sexy voice that had made Heero answer the phone in the first place. Heero felt his cock twinge at the voice. "Meet me tomorrow. My place. Eight." And then he was gone. Heero held the receiver against his ear, with a sense of déjà vu, and let out a long, slow sigh. He placed the handset back on the cradle with shaky hands, and stood up. He went over to the couch and sat down slowly.
'I'm seeing him tomorrow,' Heero thought as his brain rebooted and began processing the information it had been given. "Fuck," Heero said aloud. He remembered Duo's voice and flushed hot pink. He sat back against the couch and closed his eyes, ready to indulge himself in a new fantasy.
Heero imagined Duo with him on the couch. He imagined that he was on top of Duo, straddling him and grinding against him. Heero quickly unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans and brought his already hard cock out into his eager palm. He stroked himself twice, hard, and then went back to the fantasy. Duo was moaning into Heero's mouth, through a heated kiss. Heero had one hand up Duo's T-shirt, rolling his nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Heero mimicked the motion on himself and worked himself harder, knowing that he wouldn't last long with this new fantasy.
Heero had removed Duo's T-shirt now and was biting his neck, almost hard enough to break the skin, and Duo loved it. He gasped loudly and gripped Heero’s shoulder with one hand, breath hitching in his throat as he pressed his trouser-clad cock up against Heero's. Heero tongued the bite mark that he had left on Duo's long, pale neck and moved down to his nipples, flicking his tongue against one before biting down on it. Duo cried out and bucked up against Heero.
In real life, Heero let out a half strangled moan and squeezed his eyes shut, moving his hand up to the head of his cock and working just that instead. He imagined Duo panting beneath him, and then crying out wildly.
"Fuck me!" Duo cried in Heero's imagination, and dragged his nails across Heero's back. Heero came in hot, almost painful bursts. He groaned loudly, pumping himself until every last drop had been squeezed out.
Heero's post-orgasm brain was fuzzy around the edges, and all he could think about was Duo crying 'fuck me!' to him. It was then that Heero realised that, tomorrow, Duo might just do that. It was then that the nerves set in. Again.