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"What?"Written By: Fancy Figures Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, wish I did, just
enjoy writing about 'em for free etc Pairing: 2x1 Warnings: Heero POV, PWP, lemon Rating: NC 17 Summary: Just what is it Heero's wearing that
excites Duo so much? "What?"
“What?” I said. I stood in front of the wardrobe and looked back over my shoulder at the bed, my fingers hooked inside the top of my panties. I paused, my hands resting at my hips. “Do you have a problem with this?” He coughed. He shook his head. His eyes looked very wide, almost painfully so. “None,” he said, very softly. His gaze darted up swiftly – he’d been gaping at the place where the black lace edging nestled into the top of my inner thigh. I smiled very gently. “Fine. I’ll continue, then.” I stretched, lazily, turning my back on him again. The cool air of the bedroom brushed between my bare shoulder blades. I braced my legs a little further apart, and lifted a hand to my chest. He couldn’t see at the moment, of course, but he’d know how it looked – the way my saliva-slicked fingertip would tease at my nipple. I ran my fingers down over my belly, enjoying the way the muscles clenched up underneath my touch, even though I expected it. The goose bumps followed the line of hairs: the skin tightened around my groin. The soft, silky fabric started to strain over my swelling cock. There was a damp patch on the front, the size of a penny, staining the cloth a darker black. He coughed again: at least, I think it was a cough. It might have been a groan, choked back at the last moment. I put my hands back on my hips, slipping a finger in under the elasticated top. I teased down one side of the panties, tugging them a few inches down over my hip. The fabric bunched unevenly at the back, catching briefly between my buttocks. I clenched my cheeks, swung my hips gently from side to side and wriggled it out again. That was definitely a groan behind me. Couldn’t mistake that pained sound. The bed creaked gently, too, as if he shifted awkwardly on it. I smiled again. Instead of pulling the panties down on the other side as well, I slid my whole hand inside them. From the back, he would see the cloth tightening up across my ass; he’d see the movement of my fingers, and imagine them curling greedily around my cock. I bit back my own gasp, the flimsy lace brushing over my knuckles as I slid my hand in between the front of the panties and my dick. My other hand stroked almost absentmindedly against my thigh, smoothing the skin, moving down into the valley between my legs and under my barely covered balls. The panties shifted down, no match for my indulgent, two-handed activity. I glanced down, and I could see the head of my cock easing out of the top of them: it was purple, glistening; hungry. I was getting impatient. My groin ached, the blood throbbing along my dick, the pulse of my skin insistent. I pushed the lace down at the other side too, the panties now snagged around the top of my thighs. I clenched my buttocks, knowing he’d see it from behind. A single drop of sweat trickled down from the small of my back into the channel between my cheeks. It was very warm. He stood up from the bed: I listened to his footsteps, although he always tries to move unheard. He stumbled slightly, pausing a foot or so behind me, maybe waiting for me to speak, or protest. Instead, I ignored him, tightening my hand around my cock and pumping lazily. I let my head drop back. My other hand slid over my hip and down my back to grasp at my ass, squeezing the flesh and tugging one cheek to the side. A real groan this time. He’d moved very close, because I could feel his breath on my neck. He placed a hand on my other cheek, helping to prise them apart. His knee nudged between my spread legs, his naked skin a little cooler than mine. His movement tugged the lace of the panties further down my legs. It felt good, to feel them creeping down over the taut muscles of my thighs. “No problem, you said,” I murmured. I licked my lips: my head still hung back, my hair brushing the nape of my neck. “None,” he hissed. I was startled at how close he’d come, how hot he was. Both of his hands were on my ass now, spreading me. Then one hand slid down my crack to nudge a knuckle against my hole. He was making the slow, firm, circular movement that stimulated the muscles there, making the pucker flex open and relax with its need. It was making me damp: he’d covered his fingers with lube. “So I’ll just… continue getting changed,” I said. I was a little breathless now. When one of his fingers teased inside my hole, I leant forward, landing both hands on the wardrobe door to stabilise myself. He pumped in and out of me, his breath shallow, his answer deteriorating to a grunt in my ear. He knew just how far to reach, to make the excitement spark deep and dark in my belly. The panties slipped down to my knees, hanging loose now. He put a hand against the small of my back and pushed me down gently. I bent over at the waist, my head hanging down between my outstretched arms. His groin was bumping at my ass, his cock thick and heavy and pushing for entrance. The panties slid down to my ankles and I lifted one foot out of them. I opened my legs even wider, tilting my hips up. He slid into me, pushing not slowly, not fiercely. Just right. My turn to groan. “You can do what you like,” he sighed, his tongue flickering around my ear. He was pressed against my back, fingers gripping the skin of my hips, thrusting hungrily in and out of me. His skin was sweating gently: parts of it stuck to my own, making soft, sucking sounds as we moved in rhythm. I came first – I often do. By the time I’ve allowed him to make his move, I’m already thick-tongued with desire, my flesh too sensitive to bear more than a couple more strokes of my palm. I groaned, the seed spitting out of me, dripping over my fist and arm. I looked down through heavy-lidded eyes, watching a thin rope of it dangle from my wrist, then drop in slow motion on to the small heap of lace at my feet. He cried out: a guttural, involuntary sound. His hips clenched tightly against me, driving more deeply inside than my muscles could cope with, just for that second. I shuddered against him, gasping, making myself relax, welcoming the feeling of him swelling inside me, filling me. I stayed leaning against the wardrobe door as my heart rate began to steady. He lay against my back, panting. I sighed, contentedly, and he shifted, releasing his full weight off me, though he still clung to me. His cock was softening quickly inside my ass. When he moved, a small trickle of cum oozed out, tickling the soft hairs at the top of my thigh. “I can do what I like? Wear what I like?” I teased, clenching around him, reminding him of the pressure there’d been there a moment before. “Like you don’t already,” he grumbled. He chuckled: a warm, breathy sound, close to my skin. “I don’t care…” He yawned, straightening back up, loosening his hold and leaving shallow dips where he’d gripped my hips. “So long as it’s the black!”
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