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"Drabbles"Written By: Clara Barton Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The following
is an intellectual exercise with no intention of profit. That said,
these characterizations, words, and situations are mine. Please ask
before reprinting. Rating: R A/N: Warnings: angst, language, sex (ish) Pairings: ?x?
I woke up slowly, aware that the sheets had been shoved down and were now tangled around my ankles, aware that it was still dark out and only the faintest light from a street lamp filtered through the curtained window, aware that I was alone. I reached out, my eyes still closed and face still buried in the pillow, and felt nothing but cold, empty space beside me. I opened my eyes, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, and looked at the glowing face of the alarm. 2:45 I sighed and scrubbed at my face. It was earlier than I had thought. I kicked at the sheets until I was free and then rose from the bed, wincing when my bare feet encountered the cold, hardwood floor. I found him in the guest room that we had converted into a library, that he smirkingly insisted on calling the study. The light from a datapad illuminated his face and shoulders, the blue light casting a faint glow over his pale skin and making him seem gaunt and fragile. I walked over to him, my feet nearly silent on the floor. Nearly, but not entirely. I saw his shoulders tense as one of the wooden slats underfoot gave a minute creak of protest. I continued to his side, stopping when I came to the armchair he had curled himself into. "I woke you," he sighed in apology. "No." Although maybe he had - like him, I was a light sleeper, and there was every chance I had heard him and woken up. I glanced at the datapad screen and had to arch an eyebrow. I wasn't surprised by the fact that he was watching porn. I was surprised, however, to see what kind of porn it was. He hadn't paused it, and I watched as a dark-skinned man, his eyes covered by a blindfold, his hands and feet spread wide and secured by chains and his mouth held open by some kind of gag, was fucked by four men - all taking turns putting their cocks in his ass and mouth while he moaned helplessly. The volume was so low I could barely hear anything - but the faint slaps of flesh on flesh and grunts of pleasure were unmistakable, and all too easy for me to fill in for myself. I wasn't sure what to say - what he even wanted me to say. I looked away from the screen and saw that he was watching me, waiting for a reaction. I perched on the arm of his chair, letting my hip rest against the back of his neck. He held himself still for a moment, but then he turned slightly and leaned his cheek against my thigh. I let the fingers of my left hand graze over his bangs, and when he shivered in pleasure, I started to comb them through his hair. "Do you want me to tie you up again?" He shook his head in the negative. The last time we had tried that he had panicked, had to started to cry and dry heave, and locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour before letting me in to comfort him. "No," he said in a ragged whisper. "I can't." I wasn't surprised by his answer, but I did still wonder about his choice of viewing materials. "I don't understand it," he admitted. He tilted his head back so he could look up at me in the wavering light from the datapad. His throat, pale and taut, was exposed completely by the movement. "It doesn't arose you," I pointed out, sparing a glance towards his groin. His cock was soft, nestled against the dark curls of his pubic hair. "No," he agreed. "But it distracts me." I nodded at that answer. That, at least, made sense. "What was it this time?" "The nightmare?" His lips twisted, and he shook his head. "Just the same old shit from the war. All the things I could have done better. All of the- all of it." I ran my fingers over his cheek and jaw, and then across his neck, tracing the veins just below the pale skin. "All the things we can never forget," I murmured. His eyes, fathomless in the dim light, held mine. I had to look away, and my eyes landed on the datapad again. The men were taking turns ejaculating on the bound man's face, letting rivulets of semen drip down his cheeks and lips. "Let me distract you instead," I suggested, still watching the video. I could feel him turn his head, could feel the drag of his lips over my bare thigh, and I heard his shallow intake of breath as he saw my erection. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and I looked back down at his face. "For what?" I had to ask. "I know you... You enjoy that kind of sex. And I..." "I enjoy sex," I corrected. "Sex with you." I glanced at the screen one last time, and then took the datapad out of his hands. I turned the screen off and set it aside. The room plunged into almost total darkness. I regretted not being able to see his face clearly, but some things were simply easier in the dark. "I don't care that you don't enjoy being tied up or that you don't like rough sex." He snorted. "It's a little more than me not enjoying it." "Yes. And you have good reason to feel the way that you do. But it's nothing you should apologize for. Nothing you need to be ashamed of." He sighed and rubbed his cheek against my thigh, as if trying to burrow into me. "Come back to bed." I tugged on his hair, pulling just enough, just in the way he enjoyed. "Come back to bed, and let me show you just how very much I enjoy our kind of sex." I stood up and held out my hand to him, waiting until he took it. I led him back to our bed, laid him down and slowly, tenderly, coaxed his fears and despair away. Not too far away - not gone, but far enough away that, after he moaned my name and clung to me in release, he curled up around my body and fell back asleep. None of it - the past, the present, our fears and regrets, our wishes and dreams - would ever leave us in peace. But there were times, when he clung to me as if I was the universe's source of gravity, when fighting against all of it was worth it. -o- ~ * ~ |
