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"A Day Away"Written By: Fancy Figures Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, wish I did, just
enjoy writing about 'em for free etc Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Quatre POV, Romance, AU-ish, Lemon,
Yaoi Pairings: 1x4x1 Summary: What do you get the man who has everything?
Feedback: If you liked it, PLEASE let me know! Inspired by le_finesse’s fic_on_demand request,
for Heero and Quatre’s first anniversary gift(s). "A Day Away" The morning sun was sharp on my face, but my eyes were still heavy-lidded with sleep. I felt a deep lassitude in my limbs, as well – I felt as if I’d exercised just that little too fiercely yesterday, and exhausted myself; as if I’d drunk too much of the heavy red wine that I love too fondly; as if I’d been through an extraordinarily stressful business negotiation, and maybe lost in the last, crucial minutes. But I couldn’t remember any of those things actually happening. I stretched a foot, carefully. My limbs felt warm and heavy. I was still in bed – I recognised immediately the fresh, clean air of my bedroom. There was a slight, fragrant aroma around my pillows. The sheet over me brushed so softly against my skin that it felt like a breeze; the creases moulded like fine tissue around my calves. The deep, soft mattress hugged me close, my body sinking into it like a willing surrender. I couldn’t say that this languid feeling was unpleasant; I actually felt very relaxed. A state that was rare, for me; I always told Heero that I didn’t do relaxed! I did ‘hyperactive’, and I did ‘collapse’. The terrain in between – for me – was unfamiliar. I’d always maintained that life was too short to waste on leisure. *Heero*… I thought. A twist of fond emotion nagged at me, through the misty sluggishness. Instinctively, my tongue licked out at my plumped lips, chasing the memory of a sweet taste. A trail of goose bumps ran along my outer arm, flung out on top of the coverings. *Wake up*, came the soft murmur in my head. My internal clock was usually so reliable – so effective. *Wake up, and greet him with your smile! It’s a year today…* Of course! Of course! *I didn’t forget…* I heard my mind’s murmur of protest. *It’s a precious day to me, too…I’m just so cosy here, I didn’t want to wake up…* There was a soft laugh from the bed beside me, as if someone read my thoughts. Perhaps some words had slipped out, like slow trickling honey from my pursed mouth. I peeled open a reluctant eye, and saw him there. Heero, beside me, on the bed we shared *far* too rarely. His body lay on its side, facing me, with his head propped up on a firm hand; he was watching me wake. He wore nothing but a loose pair of boxers, and there was a soft, smoothed-out flush to his dark skin that showed he’d not been long awake himself. I could feel the warmth of his body on the sheet below me; the smell of his dark, tousled hair on the pillow beside. I couldn’t think of anything that had ever felt so good – and I wondered how long I’d been feeling this sentimental. The Board of Directors of the Winner Corporation would think me a lovesick fool. Hell, they probably already did…just didn’t have the balls to say so! “Happy Anniversary,” he smiled. A smile of warm, lascivious welcome – a smile that matched the pleasure in his eyes. It wasn’t often that we woke or rose at the same time – both of us had too many other commitments. Many nights we never saw each other at all; I often knew the solitude of waking up in a bed that was cold and unoccupied beside me. But when we did wake up together, it was worth every minute apart, to see that smile. “What’s up?” His eyes looked innocent, though his mouth quirked at one side. I couldn’t think of any reason for it; though suspicion tugged at the corners of my mind. I was suddenly very conscious of the fingers of his free hand, trailing aimlessly at my hip, where my limbs were still tangled up in the silken fabric. I was conscious of the touch, in my mind – and in other places, rather more lustily. This sleepiness had its own deep, cloying sensuality, I decided… I yawned widely, and smiled back. “I’m fine. I’m just so – *drowsy*, Heero…” “I know,” he murmured. He leaned forward, and swiped his tongue softly along the line of my jaw. I shivered. “But that’s how it should be, on the start of a special day. It’s good for you to relax.” My mouth was full of the taste of morning hunger; I felt the quickening of desire in my veins. I guessed I should be awake for *that*, right? His fingers were even more insistent now; his hand had crawled under the sheet, and was sliding down between my thighs. Something bounced enthusiastically on my belly – something not quite as sleepy as the rest of my body. “I love you, Heero,” I sighed. “Fuck me, OK? Really hard! Really *now*!” It was a joy to shock him! Even now, after all this time, he found it fascinating – and sometimes disconcerting - to hear dirty talk from me. This morning, his cheeks flushed a little, and his tongue licked at his own lips, quickly. He laughed with delight. “Always so poetic, Quat! And after all that expensive education – all that public speaking –“ I knew he was watching my smile; knew I’d excited him. I could feel his swollen shaft, hot against my thigh. Weren’t we both ‘morning’ people? “I want my turn on the bottom,” I wheedled. “And it’s my turn to ask for anything – remember?” I reached out my own hand to trace at his lips. They were cooler than mine – but lush with the moisture from his tongue. “I remember,” he replied. It was a game we played – we took it in turns to offer whatever the other one requested. No questions; no inhibitions; but always consensual. “You’re a greedy lover, Quatre Winner. You’d not forget your turn, I know.” His low voice vibrated with amusement. I know that so many people thought him withdrawn, and aloof. How wrong could they be? Heero’s wit was a dry, sharp humour – I loved to watch his verbal games with our friends; his caustic cynicism with some of his clients. Those same people who found him chilly, inevitably missed the warm, subtle frisson of his personality. “But is that the best you can think of, Quat? To ask for?” “Hmm?” I murmured. His hands were brushing slowly, in a steady, tantalising rhythm, back and forth between my balls and my entrance. My legs started to fall open; my thighs were tensing up in anticipation. My skin felt raw, my body open to complete vulnerability; I thought that although a climax was the most important objective of my life at *this very moment*, I was almost afraid of it – of its promised poignancy. I knew what Heero could do to me, in this mood. But he was still slow to progress the caresses. “You’re too impatient!” he chided. “Let me spend time on you – let the both of us enjoy it…besides, I have a gift for you! Let me show it to you – then I’ll be more than happy to oblige your *sex on demand*!” Like hell I was impatient; I needed him! The expectation was already curling in my groin – the skin of my balls was wrinkling in his palm; my cock bobbed on my stomach, angry with frustration; it was never the most tolerant of organs. “We said no gifts!” I complained, halfheartedly. “I don’t want anything from you except *this*…” He only laughed again. There aren’t many men in the past who’ve laughed at me, and then survived my retribution with all major organs still in place. Yet Heero taught me that, over the last year – he taught me the difference between ridicule and a gentle, respectful humour. Shared humour; a loving humour. And, of course, Heero wasn’t just ‘men’, was he?
At the time, I’d wondered why he was so affected; so concerned about me. Perhaps I’d been the only one to notice. And I? I’d been happy enough to rely on him; to tell you the truth, I’d been pretty scared myself! I was finding my feet in a very different world, with dangers that were very different from the personal battles I’d fought in the war; that we’d *all* fought. By the time he came to me, I’d become the mere cipher of the Corporation; it was everything to me, and I was saturated with its needs and demands. I had no energy to think or care about myself, and yet I had to admit that I was often unsure whom to trust. There were no more assassination attempts after Heero was in charge. Over the course of a few months, he co-ordinated the whole of my security forces – he updated every system; re-trained every member of personnel; improved every single procedure. I saw him almost every day, unless he was on a trip to recruit, or to investigate new products. He became my companion; I learned his ways in a manner that had never been possible before, when we were both soldiers, and little more to each other than strategic support. It took a startlingly short period of time for me to find that I preferred his company to anyone else’s, though I wasn’t sure quite what that meant to me. I could have had plenty of personal companions – I was offered them on an almost daily basis! - but to be honest, I was always too obsessed with the work to pander to any other needs within me. And then those needs started to reassert themselves; they started to shout their demands to me, each time I was close to him. A demand for friendship – for stimulation – for *touch*. I just didn’t know what to do about it all. Heero sure taught me *that* as well! From the first day that we admitted an attraction – from the first time he dragged my head away from my papers, and demanded that I see *him*, instead… I’d wanted him from a very early moment, I realised that then. He said he’d seen it in my eyes; and that he wanted me in return. Always had! The touch of his mouth had been a revelation – then a thrill – then an addiction! Searingly hot, yet tentative, until we understood that we both held back the same burning hunger; then his tongue plunged inside my mouth; his teeth nipped at my lips; his breath panted harshly against my cheek. We grasped and grabbed, and consumed each other; we sank to the floor – buttons sprang off clothing, and we both had our hands down each other’s pants. My boxers were twisted round my lower thighs, and I was savouring the shocking ecstasy of his tongue around my swollen cock, just about the time my secretary buzzed through to remind me – tactfully - that I’d been expected in the hospitality suite fifteen minutes earlier. If it hadn’t been for that midday meeting with the president of a South American state, I think I’d have lost my virginity there and then, on the floor of the board room, my legs and half-naked ass spread out on the scattered papers from the latest report of oil drilling developments in the Middle East, Appendix 1 : ‘comparative prices per barrel’! As it was, that particular *bereavement* happened about eight pm instead, and in the comfort of my own bedroom. I insisted that Heero stayed in the house whilst my meeting was on; I asked – no, pleaded! – that he have supper with me. I can’t for the life of me remember what we ate! Heero was a little stunned at how quickly things progressed after that, as far as he was concerned – he appeared rather astonished at my eagerness; at my need for him. Not to the extent of complaining, though! His delight was as vibrant as my own; his passion as greedy. Though, thank God, his experience was better than my own; back then, I wasn’t too sure where the hell anything went, or how to bend in the appropriate places, or how fiercely to thrust – Guess that’s how it is, the first time! I had plenty of practising to look forward to… That night, he’d curled beside me in bed, and was still there in the morning; when we found, without bothering to discuss the finer points to death, that we still felt just as enthusiastic about each other. It had been that way for a year, now. From that night, we were always together – emotionally at least. It was enough for me. *
Heero’s head came down into my groin, and his breath tickled at the damp curls. His tongue was thick and wet, and it licked at my cock in a way that was almost as sleepy as I felt myself. It felt so casual as to be careless – but I felt the rush of climax seeping through every one of my pores; I felt the shaking of my muscles, all along my legs. Dammit, I was never very controlled in the mornings! And the comfort of my rest was like an insidious blanket around me, making me physically weak, and stealing what little discipline I may have had. At the last second, my back arched up off the mattress, and I clawed at his head, pushing him down on to my cock, pleading to finish inside his mouth. I yelled his name – I heard the echo, bouncing off the wall behind the bed. When my heart stopped its hammering, I released his hair, and he pulled gently away from me. I think he’d been laughing, again; there’d certainly been an extra, teasing vibration around my cock as I came. “Impatient,” he murmured, licking his lips, “and *fast*!” I stretched out a little on the bed, sated and smug, and still struggling fitfully against the sluggishness. I felt the muscles of my chest expand; felt the knots in my shoulders pop gently out of their tangles. Heero dipped again over me; he was still keen to torment me – and, after all, he’d not met my request yet, had he? Nor had he come, himself. I wondered how long it’d be before I could get hard again – there’d been a fantastically rich feel to my orgasm; there were still shudders riding the shaft; still memories in the nerve endings of its clenching and spurting. “What time is it?” I was suddenly prompted to ask. Something about the angle of the light through the bedroom curtains alerted me. I twisted my head to the bedside table. “Hey! Where’s the clock?” There was no answer from Heero, except a murmur of his lips against my groin. I wriggled my hips, to distract him from his caresses – to get his attention. There was this new puzzle to discuss. “Heero, someone’s taken the clock!” “Damned fuss,” he murmured. “I took it. Hush now. You don’t need to know the time…not today…” I winced, as he nipped playfully at the soft skin below my navel. It sent a twinge of desire all the way to my groin, and he knew it did. He was so inventive – he had a talent for the word ‘greed’ himself. Of course I’d like to spend more time this morning with him… I groaned. “Don’t be a fool. This is great, of course it is, but – there’s that conference call I have to take – at ten…just that call, Heero… then I’m all yours, OK?” He ignored me; his teeth sank into the soft skin of my belly, and I groaned with pleasure. He wasn’t giving up, any time soon! I could feel him wriggling out of his boxers, the mattress dipping underneath us as he moved; my heart started to speed up again. I lifted a lethargic arm, grasping at anything within reach, in some ridiculous attempt at anchorage. I tugged at strands of my own hair; it felt slightly damp, though I didn’t remember getting up earlier to wash it. Or did I? My mind was – obviously, *deliciously* - preoccupied at the moment. Heero nibbled at the junction of skin between my thigh and my torso, and I sighed with pure, languorous pleasure. I could feel the heat and the swollen size of his cock, rubbing against my leg. *Now* who was impatient? I arched my body up under his suckling motions; *Ahhh*, I thought, *let’s both surrender, OK?* I wanted him to hurry up and penetrate me, because the ache was beginning again, deep between my legs… I twisted my head the other way, to look at my watch – and my watch had gone, too! I opened my mouth to protest again – then my eyes caught sight of the hair tangled around my stretching fingers. I felt a cold wash of shock; things started to unravel. My hair, *my hair*…it was damp on my shoulders. It was soft with the smell of my shampoo – and something else. Hey, look – today’s colour was *brunette*!
“What the hell’s happened to my hair? What’s going on –“ Heero had fallen back on to his side, and wriggled just as inelegantly to reach up again, and grasp at my shoulders. His voice was urgent. “It’s temporary hair dye, Quatre – it’s just for fun! Calm down! It’s part of my gift to you – for your anniversary!” The words didn’t really compute. I saw him kneeling in front of me, a crease of worry between his eyes, and I felt the strength of his firm hands on my skin. His erection seemed a little discouraged – having me yell in his ear probably hadn’t helped. But what the f -! “Hell, Heero, did you wash my hair?” I snapped. “Why? When? How come I don’t remember -?” A horrible thought struck me. The tendrils of my sleepiness teased at my body; my unusual relaxation mocked me. “You didn’t drug me, did you?” Heero sighed, and his hands fell from me. He sat back on his heels, and his eyes darkened. “Do you think I’d do that to you?” “Sorry,” I said. My eyes said the same – my mouth reached softly towards him, trying out its own apology. It was a ridiculous suggestion, I know – but how else -? He leaned past me, and plumped at my pillow. “It’s aromatherapy, Quatre. The use of oils, to help you relax – to ease your mood. To improve your sleep. I can show you the book –“ I shook my head, not needing proof of Heero’s undoubtedly well-researched investigations. Hell, I was the *living* proof, wasn’t I? I didn’t feel I’d ever slept so well, since I was a child. A very *young* child, at that. “My pillows? What was it? There’s only the slightest of smells…” He grinned. “Hops, chamomile, lavender, mugwort –“ “Huh?” He laughed at my raised eyebrows. “You can scorn it – but I’ve never heard you snore so deeply! I’ve never known you settle to sleep so quickly – never known you to miss getting up at least twice in the night –“ He saw my grimace – I never realised my insomnia disturbed him. “You need to relax, Quat,” he said, gently. “If you can’t do that when you sleep, when can you? Let me help you.” For a moment, our eyes met. That was, of course, another thing I didn’t do – I had always been reluctant to accept help. I had that strange, wacky notion that it was a sign of weakness…but Heero didn’t seem to find my notion amusing. “Heero,” I murmured. “But my hair -? You said – your gift to me –“ “For your anniversary.” “For *our* anniversary!” I grinned. I touched at his lips; my mouth was watering again. He still knelt before me, naked. And we still had unresolved sexual tension, didn’t we? I was a little annoyed about the hair issue, of course, but this was Heero, and we’d not slept together for a few days because of the International Conference I’d had to attend, and I *needed* him so badly that it was easy to forget the confusion and strange behaviour, in favour of the strong hands, and the hungry lips, and the thick, full - “Quat!” Heero’s voice called me back, eyes sharp, hands grasping my fingers. When my gaze lifted out of his lap and back on to his face, his concentration softened. “Yes, love – *our* anniversary, you’re right. And I know that we said no gifts, didn’t we? Because I have no desire for them – because you have no need. But then I thought of something that I *could* get for the man who has everything.” I shrugged, not really listening. “What?” “Anonymity, Quatre. That’s what I want to give you today.” I stared. He grinned. His hand stroked very gently at my thigh, and I felt the goose bumps tenderizing my flesh, all the way up my leg. “Be someone else for a day, Quatre Winner.” He flushed. “For us both.” * I was a little stunned. “I don’t understand, Heero. What’s the problem with being me?” The skin around his eyes tightened, as if he were nervous of discussing it; as if he were suddenly concerned about my reaction. “Everywhere you go, Quat, you’re known. By sight or by reputation. Every minute of your days is scheduled; every month is planned. People call on you; people need you; people pester you.” He saw me start to protest, and he interrupted swiftly. “I know that’s *you* – I know that you love it. That your sense of duty is as strong as mine, though in a different way. I accept that – you know I do. But today, Quat –“ Jeez, if I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought I saw a plea in Heero Yuy’s eyes! His hand squeezed gently at my leg; I was finding it difficult to gather my thoughts. “Be anonymous, Quat. Leave it all behind. Spend time with me, *just* me, with no-one knowing who we are, or what we do, or what we stand for.” “Impossible!” I spluttered. “Why?” Damned man was persistent; I should know! “I have many responsibilities –“ “I know,” he said, quite calmly. The nervousness had gone from his eyes; now he looked his more usual, intractable self. This was the way he dealt with me when he had matters of security to discuss – the way he looked when I’d disregarded one of his recommendations. Other men cowered before that look – even *I* was wary of it. “But just once, Quatre, you should have responsibility only to yourself. No-one would begrudge you that. Begrudge *us* that!” There was a flame in his pupils that wasn’t anger – it was something deeper, and sadder, and yet more excited. “So…” I said, a little weakly. Dammit, was I wavering? “So – the hair colour is part of this – plan -?” Heero let out a breath, as if he knew he’d won, bar the shouting. He put both hands on my thighs, and leant towards me. I could see the saliva on his moistened lips; feel the gentle thump of his pulse on my flesh. Now it was *my* lap that was getting the attention; and my reawakening excitement was close on its heels! “Yes, Quat!” he smiled. “Your housekeeping staff have been given the day off – haven’t you noticed how quiet it is, in this part of the house? And I’m in sole charge of you, personally – call me your bodyguard, if you like. Today, you and I can go where we please – and you’ll be in disguise! No-one will recognise the blond-haired millionaire entrepreneur – no-one will expect you to be just relaxing around town. Hanging out; wasting time…” I suppressed a slight shudder. “But first – I must check the mail –“ “No,” he said. “Huh? Heero, don’t be ridiculous –“ “No,” he said again. There was that look again – the intractable one. “Today, others will see to *you*. Trowa will see to your mail – he’s already in your office, opening the post and sorting the emails.” Trowa Barton? My mouth opened, then shut again. I mean, Trowa was an excellent attaché, and I had to admit his diplomatic skills were far better even than mine, but there could be all kinds of urgent requests in the mail… In the distance, I heard a telephone ring, then stop abruptly – but I knew the sound of the outside line. One of the ambassadors would be ringing about the conference call at ten – Heero caught me as I started to swing my legs off the bed, and pressed me back down again. This time, his hands slid up from my thighs to my hips, and lingered thoughtfully on the sharp bone. One of his fingers curled mischievously in amongst my pubic hairs – his nail brushed so very lightly against the tip of my growing arousal that I might have imagined it. I groaned to myself – I felt the familiar rush of paralysing heat to my head, and all points south. The phone stopped ringing. Heero caught my wild eyes. “No!” he repeated. “Wufei is here, as well, and he’ll see to your calls.” Wufei Chang… I thought, a little blearily. He was a superb speaker at every political function, as his party’s representative. He was charming; he never spoke out of turn; he was discretion and urbanity personified. “The ten o’clock call –“ I gasped. Heero looked over at the bedside table; he grinned and shrugged when he remembered there was no clock there. “I suspect that’s already passed!” he said, blithely. “Your secretary assisted Wufei – I’m sure we would have heard if there’d been a serious issue that had to be confirmed with *today*. Otherwise, the business will have been postponed quite amicably for a day or so more.” I opened my mouth – I closed it again. “Heero, you’re serious, aren’t you?” “I always am, concerning your welfare.” He pressed his hand to my mouth, teasing a finger in between my numbed lips. “Ahh, Quat…come with me on this, will you? If it’s abhorrent to you, I’ll cancel the whole thing. We’ll wash out the dye, we’ll call back the staff, and I’ll reconnect you with your phone. But I want to spend my anniversary with the man, not the management; I want to communicate with *you*, not a press office.” His voice lowered – so did his mouth, sinking back down to lick at a nipple. “I want to spend my time fucking you, Quat, not *finding* you. I want to be selfish, today. That’s the gift that *I* want.” I groaned. “A gift - for you?” “For *us*,” came his whisper. I gazed at the man I loved, and realised just one small fraction of what he’d lived with, ever since he joined me. What crap he’d had to put up with – what sacrifices he may have made regarding his own life. And also what he’d brought to mine. I knew I’d not refuse him anything, today. “So –,” I said, slowly, watching his lips make soft sounds across my quivering chest. “What’s the next part of your master plan, Heero Yuy?” I was hard again – I was impatient again. I never slept past ten o’clock, it was unheard of – so there’d better be something damned good to justify it! He wriggled his knees between my thighs, the skin still damp from sweat, and threads of my earlier cum. He hooked his hands under my knees, and lifted my hips easily off the bed. His swollen erection bobbed eagerly between his legs. “First of all,” he gasped. “There’s time to meet your morning’s request –“ A fleeting thought nagged at me. “Wait –“ I gargled. “What about personal callers to the house – the charity meetings – the press reporters who call every damned day –“ “Duo’s on hand for that,” hissed Heero. “*Duo Maxwell*?” My cry was a little anguished – the shock a little too much to assimilate. We adored Duo, of course we did – he was a friend, and one of the city’s top reporters. But he was also one of the city’s top gossips – one of the worst keepers of secrets – and infamous for his outrageous and obscenely colourful language! I groaned out loud; but Heero’s mouth was quickly on mine, effectively silencing any further comments I had on *that*! Then his cock pressed insistently into me, and his moan of delight was enough to make me forget anything else. * I had showered, and dressed in something deliberately casual, and I stood in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked so different - I looked so unlike my publicity photos! I wasn’t sure I suited as a brunette. I wasn’t sure *what* I thought of myself. And then I laughed! “So what shall we do with this day of Anonymity?” I called out to Heero, who was dressing in the bedroom. “Breakfast first,” he replied, appearing behind me, reflected in the mirror. His dark hair was messed up, and there was the suspicion of a red-sucked mark on his neck; he tugged his collar up to cover it. Plenty more time had passed since we both woke up – the showering had taken rather longer than our usually swift morning ablutions, you see... Heero had been more than refreshed by the hot water streaming down on to his body, even after our session in bed. He’d been inspired, really – inspired to drag me in under the shower with him, mouth reaching to kiss me hungrily, the water running into our mouths and eyes and ears, and his hands between my buttocks, slicking me quickly and efficiently with gel. Even as I protested, and gasped, and slipped unsteadily on the smooth tiles under my feet, he’d turned me against the wall, his fingers pinching almost painfully at my raised nipples, spreading my legs, and then sliding themselves confidently into my entrance. I was still stretched from his presence earlier – and I flexed even further to draw his fingers in, excited by the play. He’d muttered in my ear, the sound muffled by the running water, that he was taking advantage of the relaxed time to help cleanse me more thoroughly. I think I protested that was nonsense – though I confessed I didn’t care *why* the hell he was doing it, I just wanted him to keep *on* doing it! – and then he laughed again, withdrew his probing fingers, pressed his hips against my ass, and thrust his hard cock into me. I have to say that, knowing there were no private staff in the corridors around us, I’d been rather more vocal than usual. I think I might even have wailed aloud when I came, splattering seed all over the Italian tiling. I know I wasn’t bothered about the time any more! * I smiled at him now; he looked gorgeous. A little tired from our lovemaking, sure; but the shine in his eyes was astonishing, “I’m damned hungry…” I sighed. I felt deliciously sated – but I also felt the tinge of nervousness. The fingers of my right hand twitched spasmodically, as if they itched to hold something. I wondered if he’d stolen my cell, as well - it was highly likely he had! Heero was nothing if not thorough. Wasn’t that what the Winner Corporation prized in him? Why there’d never been any other candidate for any job he did for us? “Breakfast sounds good. I’ll just call the kitchen –“ “Uh-huh.” Heero was shaking his head beside me. The thick hair on his head brushed at my ear; tickled at my overly sensitive skin. “No staff today, Quatre, remember? I gave *all* of them a day off. You have the basic security around the estate of course, but no-one else in the house.” I investigated the thought in my mind – the *alien* thought. “No-one else in the house? Just us?” He grinned at me. “Does it bother you, Quat? Breakfast is on me, down at the cafe –“ I stared at the reflection of his eyes, deeply dark with emotion. He stood an inch or so taller than me, broad-shouldered, superbly fit. He was the best looking man I’d ever known – and he was mine. “Does it bother *you*, Heero?” He laughed, perhaps not fully understanding. “I think you’ll find I’m experienced enough to order some toast and fresh orange juice -“ “No, no, that’s not what I mean –!“ I was impatient with him; or myself. Afraid, perhaps, of an honest reply. “I mean, does it bother you, living here? With me – with all the trappings of my life. Staff – restrictive security – always on call for something or other. It’s an invasion of our home, I know – I’m used to it, but that’s no reason to have inflicted it on you as well.” It’s not as if I hadn’t known it would be a culture change for Heero, moving into the house with me. But we’d wanted to be a couple, not just casual lovers. We wanted to take what leisure time we had together; we wanted to share a bed; to share a home. But it had always been Heero who had made the adjustment; Heero who had moved every stick of his belongings into my rooms; Heero who had learned his way around my complex diary system so that we could eat the occasional meal together. I looked at Heero, and was suddenly frightened at his pale face. Had I ruined his life? In return for *me*, had he lost every shred of independence and integrity? But his eyes had widened, and the feelings had deepened, and I felt myself drawing even closer to him. He turned me round to face him, and his lips brushed at mine, barely touching. “That’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said to me, Quatre Winner.” I must have looked puzzled, because he grinned, and licked quickly at a drop of toothpaste caught on my chin. He was a little flushed – but I’d rarely known Heero Yuy to be embarrassed. “You said an invasion of my home – *our* home. That’s why it doesn’t bother me. Because that’s what you’ve given me.” “A home?” “And *you*…” he hissed. His tongue was worrying its way back up to my mouth, lapping at the skin of my lips. I put my hands to his shoulders, and pushed him gently back. “Take me out!” I said, firmly, with a smile. “Take me out *now*, or there’ll be no damned day left!” * I mean, I thought neither of us liked shopping? Heero had never seemed to have any tolerance for it, and was never relaxed in crowds. I’d never needed to shop, in that my clothes and wants were all brought to me, whenever I asked. It had been easy to draw my lover into the same routine – neither of us had time to browse, for God’s sake. So we hit the city centre like starving men landed in a food court! We spent an hour in one shop – ninety minutes in another! Hell, how long does it take to choose a pair of jeans? But I’d had no idea of the choice out there – the outrageous colours and styles. I was entranced! At the same time, it was initially embarrassing. I didn’t really know what size I was; and I couldn’t pay for anything, as I had nothing but charge cards, and was still trying to go ‘incognito’. Heero found money for everything – Heero seemed to have a hell of a lot of cash, actually, and he seemed happy to make it available to me, so I bought two pairs of jeans, and also some shirts, and a couple for him, and some boxers with an attractively complex red print that turned out to be small devils with horns and pitchforks and sticking-out tongues - “What?” I asked, laughing. Heero had been staring at me as I talked to the assistants; as I helped a couple other guys make a choice on colours; as I gathered shopping bags around me, fascinated by the novelty of carrying my own stuff. “What’s up?” He was laughing, too. “You’re amazing, Quat, you know? I’m seeing another side of you – it’s amazing; refreshing! I see you every day, decision-making, co-ordinating, facilitating…” He stopped, as if he were afraid he’d insulted me. “Not often like this,” he finished, softly. He looked a little flushed, too – I’d moved in and out of the fitting room for the last hour, showing him myself in various stages of dress and undress. I rather hoped he’d found it tantalising… I raised an eyebrow. “Guess we never have much of a social time together, do we? We can act the fool as well as kick ass, you know –“ “*You* certainly can!” he smiled, but fondly. “It’s good, Quat – you make me laugh; you brighten up everything. You make me see everything differently –“ He was struggling with the right words – since we got together, it had taken quite some time to encourage him to express what was going on in his mind; and his heart. “I feel the same, love,” I said, softly. I didn’t want everyone to hear the affection – I didn’t want everyone to share. He’d been at my arm all the time, today, even though we weren’t too obvious with our intimacy, out in public. He pushed me gently along when I got distracted – suggested places he knew I’d like. He looked as excited as I was at the adventure. Dammit, we were like kids! But then we were still very young, weren’t we? It was easy to forget that fact, in amongst work and responsibility and a life that would be totally alien to most of the people we bumped shoulders with today. When we’d first arrived in town, Heero had taken a while to settle down, even though it had been his idea. He’d been sensitive to every person who jogged my elbow – every man in a heavy overcoat; every woman with a camera slung around her neck. Occasionally, another shopper would stare at us, and I’d wonder if I was more recognizable than I thought. But then they’d be distracted, and Heero would move to hide me a little from view, and I’d reassure myself that they were only looking at two young guys who looked a little punch-drunk with excitement. Surprisingly, it had been me who had shed the Winner lifestyle more quickly – me who embraced the ‘anonymity’! Guess I was finding out what a rabid shopper I was, at heart! At the moment, Heero was standing near me, leant back against the wall of the shop, fairly relaxed. He had barely any shopping of his own – a CD he’d wanted; some sensible toiletries. *Poor show*! I thought, to myself. I wanted him to be just as involved as I was – just as adventurous – whether he resisted or not! I bit back a mischievous grin – he can read me like a favourite book sometimes, and particularly the chapter headings that were flickering through my mind just now. “I want you to try this on, Heero,” I announced, sweeping an orange shirt off a display rail, and dragging him towards the fitting room with me. His protest was half-hearted; he was more surprised than resistant. I spun him quickly into a curtained booth, stepped in after him, and swished the curtain closed around us. Then I reached for the hem of his top, pulling it up off his torso. “Quat!” he laughed. “I can try on a shirt myself, you know –“ His next breath was sharp, and the words dried in his throat. I had dropped the shirts to the floor, both old and new, and dipped my head down to his chest. I licked at his exposed nipple – and when it sprang erect with the shock, I bit at it, as well. “Jesus,” he gasped. “What the hell -?” I didn’t think that question was anything but rhetorical. I slid carefully to my knees in front of him, making sure that I was sheltered from outside view, both by the curtain and by the pile of clothing on the floor, and I flipped open his jeans. He gave the slightest of whimpers – whether from delight, or in warning, or both, I don’t know. Didn’t care! I slid a hand into his boxers, and lifted out his cock. It was very warm – and it was far too engorged to be comfortable in there! I smiled wickedly at being the cause of his torment. Well, now I would be his rescuer, as well… He groaned when I went down on him, my mouth eager and wide, and taking three quarters of him in at one swallow. He flashed a wary look at the curtain, but there was no movement from outside – the fitting room was deserted for the moment. “Gotta be fast,” I mumbled, gripping at his half-clothed hips, and licking fiercely up and down his hot, wrinkling shaft. “Other customers – assistants – feet away from us –“ I felt the shiver up his legs – he found it unbearably exciting; the proximity to other people; the risk involved; the need for speed. My own heart was pounding, and my pants were tight around my groin. But this mischief was for Heero alone! This was as thrilling as when we’d first become lovers – when we’d been cautious of letting anyone know, until we were more certain ourselves what we wanted. We’d made love swiftly and – mainly – silently, and whenever and wherever the hell we could manage it! With Heero’s help, I’d demanded to know and try everything – and quite a few new things we’d learned together… Crouched here on the thick, blue fitting room carpet, I tightened my lips, and sucked long and hard; he loved to be blown, and I could tell he was close to climax already. He reached down his hands, one to grasp at my hair, and the other to rub at the base of his cock, following in the path of my mouth. He came, seconds after. His body shuddered against the wall of the cubicle – he bit at his lips to keep the shout from escaping. My mouth filled with his seed, and it had a rich, almost dangerous taste. I insisted that he buy the orange shirt, whether it was his size or not – we would keep it as a souvenir! * We had coffee and salad for lunch, at a small Italian restaurant, and I had ice cream afterwards. And Heero’s ice cream, as well. I felt light-headed – and starving! “You needed proper food,” grinned Heero, as I sat back with a contented sigh. He leaned over to brush a few strands of my brunette hair out of my blue eyes. “The only thing I ever need is you,” I said simply, and rather sappily. It had felt like the natural thing to say, though. “No telephones?” he asked, slyly. I shook my head. I hadn’t thought about holding or using a phone for hours now. I’d lost track of time entirely – I’d even walked past an internet café or two, without flinching. Unheard of, eh? “This is great,” I said, gently. “The best day ever. Just you and me – just Quat and Heero.” Something hot flickered in his eyes. “I know – I never knew it would be so good. I just – I just hoped to give you something different – something new.” “Like a change of hair colour!” I said, frowning. He grinned. “I could get to like you like this, Quat – not just the dark hair, but the mischief, and the sense of irresponsibility! It’s been very liberating…” Something brushed lightly against my leg, hidden under the lunch-time tablecloth, and settled on my inner thigh. I stared at him, my eyes widening, even as I felt his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of my jeans, and slipping softly into those deliciously red-printed boxers. By the time the waitress came over with a final coffee, I was slumped rather awkwardly down in my seat, and Heero had to sign for the check with his left hand. His right one was rather sticky. When he reached down to help my shaking hands gather up all the shopping, his murmur was soft and seductive in my ear. “Love you, Quat.”
Heero’s voice came as quite a shock, I was so engrossed in my entertainment. “We must go back soon.” Of course, I knew it. Young we were, but real life still sucked us in. I grimaced. “How much longer do you think, before someone or something needs us back?” Heero shrugged, folding up his paper. “Not long. Have you got a taste for escape, then, now?” I grinned. “As well as a taste for you, Heero Yuy!” I pushed him gently back on the bench – I leant over him, put hands to his flushed face, and kissed him, deeply. I didn’t care who might be watching – press, passers-by, even the damned ducks on the pond! I wanted to be with him – I wanted to show how I felt. “Happy Anniversary,” I murmured. “Here’s to the next hundred.” * The ‘post-mortem’ of the day was fun. We ate a light supper, then we went to bed and talked about our trip – well, we made love, and *then* we talked. OK, so we made love *twice*, and then we… You get the picture. I felt rejuvenated – I felt *good*. And that’s how I chose to express myself! Trowa had left a neat pile of items in my in-tray; mostly business proposals (twenty-seven), some marriage proposals (four – a quiet day), and a wry note about the dry cleaning bill I owed him, for a leaking ink pen. There was also the matter of the consultancy fees for potential Repetitive Strain Injury to his hands. The ‘x’ key on my keyboard was a little loose. Mind you, he’d also completed my Rubik cube puzzle, and re-filed my personnel files in a far more logical way. Wufei apparently had slight, temporary tinnitus, so he couldn’t talk to me yet. Several of my telephone extensions had been unplugged – well, ripped from the wall, seemed a better description. He’d left rather a lot of notes, detailing the particular crime prevention problems of the inner city council as related to him – at length – by the police chief; also the desperate need to purchase shares in a frighteningly exciting new investment consortium, as urged by a man who – surprisingly – didn’t want to leave his name; and the telephone number of a young lady who was keen to know whether I’d received her marriage proposal in the post today. She’d rung five times – she’d ring back tomorrow, his note threatened. Duo, in his inimitable fashion, had tacked several large sheets of paper on the door to my lounge; one was a picture of him, smiling, larger than life, and covered with stickers from flag collectors, who’d obviously come to the door during the day. They must have thought it was Christmas! There was another print of him with one arm around a reporter whom I believe worked for a rival publication – maybe his hand was a *little* too tight round the guy’s neck… and in another print, he appeared to be half-lying on the steps of the front porch, with a large Rotweiler humping at his leg. I had no idea how he got the pictures taken, *nor* where the dog had come from and, in all honesty, I didn’t care! The final print showed him leaning up against a young, attractive blond guy, with some kind of a market research clipboard which he clutched to him like a Roman shield. Duo was beaming happily, his hand at the guy’s ass – the researcher looked a little dazed at his reception, but not particularly unwelcoming of the attention. Duo appeared to have had a great time! *
Heero’s lips touched gently at my shoulder. “OK, Quat?” I turned my head slightly, to brush my lips against his. “I was just considering how things went without me today.” “Badly?” “No, not at all.” I shook my head. “Everything went on as always – though not, perhaps, as I would have done things myself.” “Do you mind?” he murmured. His fingers trailed down my bare arm. “In a way, I do,” I said slowly. “But not much. Not as much as I would have done, before today’s trip out. Does that make sense?” “Yes, it does,” he agreed. “I feel the same. I feel quite content to settle back to the routine now.” I lay back on my pillow, still smelling the scented oils that Heero had used on it. “Don’t change these pillows,” I said, already feeling a little sleepy. “Perhaps I’ll sleep well tonight as well.” “It won’t be for lack of bedroom exercise,” laughed Heero. “Two nights in a row, we get to sleep together – God knows if either of us will be fit to do our jobs properly tomorrow!” I wriggled to get comfortable, and something fell off the bedside table, on to the floor with a thump. “Leave it,” said Heero, sleep creeping into his voice as well. His arm lay comfortably across my waist. “It’s just a bottle – the remains of the dye. When we wash that colour out of your hair in the morning, I’ll throw the bottle out.” “No!” I said, quickly. “Keep it!” He rolled over beside me, and his eyes glinted in the dimming light. “You thinking of repeating this day, Quat?” “Would you mind?” I grinned back. “Would we have to wait for another year? Perhaps you’re not so content to settle back to routine…” “Troublemaker…” sighed Heero, falling back on to his side of the bed. “Is the anniversary over yet?” I whispered into his ear. “Huh?” “But you haven’t seen *my* present yet, have you?”
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