|
"In Plain Sight"(or “The Hardest Job Fate and Destiny Were Ever Handed”)Written By: Honor Disclaimers: I own Gundam Wing, pigs can fly,
people can breathe underwater, and it’s perfectly safe to blow-dry
your hair while in the shower. Pairings: 1x4, existing 2x3 Rating: R. Spoilers: Nope Warnings: AU, romance, yaoi, lemon, some language,
Heero panicking Author’s Insane Ramblings on no particular
topic: "In Plain Sight" (or “The Hardest Job Fate and Destiny Were Ever Handed”) Chapter Eight: Home Soul meets soul on lover's lips. Iria was pacing on the front porch when Wufei pulled up in the driveway. She ran down to meet them, pulling open the back door quickly. “Quatre! You could have called and told me how it went!” Quatre flushed a little. “Uhm…sorry.” With a mutter about men, she pulled Heero out and into a firm hug. “And you—don’t do something like this again, okay? I nearly had a heart attack when Quatre told me what was going on.” Heero blinked at the hug. He hadn’t known that Iria thought that much about him. A little shyly he raised his arms, hugging her back. “I won’t.” “Good.” She stepped back, releasing him. “Let’s get you inside and settled. Is everyone staying the night here?” It was nearly two in the morning, now. A little too late to be out and about. Quatre silently conferred with everyone, getting hopeful nods in return. “It looks like it. Come on guys, let’s get some sleep.” + The house was quiet, all of the little chilicans put to bed—with the exception of two. Heero was in bed, if not yet asleep. And Quatre was getting ready for bed—in more ways than one. Heero shifted a little in the bed, arguing with his body…to little avail. Yes, it had been a day filled with emotional rollercoasters, and yes he and Quatre had gotten very touchy feely in Wufei’s back seat, and yes Quatre was impossibly and perfectly sexy, and if the blond didn’t stop stripping for bed in the next two seconds, Heero was going to say ‘to hell with it’ and just pin him to the wall! Dammit, didn’t his blond have any idea what he was doing to his poor boyfriend?! Actually, Quatre knew exactly what he was doing. He let his shirt drop carelessly to the floor before turning and facing Heero. With deliberate slowness he unfastened his jeans and pushed both denim and boxers off his hips. Heero watched all that smooth skin come into view and felt his body tighten sharply. “Quatre—” The blond kicked off the rest of his clothes, standing unabashedly naked in front of his boyfriend. Maybe he was blushing a little doing this, but the blatant desire and hunger in Heero’s face was making up for any of his embarrassment. “Yes?” “Get over here,” Heero growled. He tossed back bedcovers, quickly shinnying out of his boxers. Clothing was definitely an impediment right now. Quatre obeyed with alacrity, crawling over the bed until he could drape himself over Heero. The Asian teen caught his hips halfway and dragged him down the rest of the way, head lifted and reaching until he could close his teeth over the pulse in Quatre’s throat. His heartbeat jumped and skittered under Heero’s mouth. They both groaned low at the full skin contact, shifting until Quatre was completely tangled up in Heero’s arms and legs. Quatre let his head fall back to give Heero room, swallowing convulsively, breathing shaky. That felt so good…and he didn’t understand why it did, it just did and he wanted Heero to touch other parts of him the same way— His hands traveled urgently up and down the other’s back, over muscular shoulders and down taut muscle to a beautifully defined ass. Heero growled low when the blond’s hands flexed and kneaded his skin. Balancing on one knee, he rose up a little, pressing his lover into the bed. Quatre jerked as the movement rubbed their erections together. Static electricity couldn’t possibly build up from skin to skin contact, but damn if that hadn’t felt like it. Blinking his eyes back into focus, he maneuvered a hand in between their bodies and wrapped it around both of them, stroking a little gingerly. Heero viciously attacked the tender skin on Quatre’s chest, trying to find an outlet for the sharp, dizzying pleasure coursing through his system. The plan backfired miserably—Quatre arched up against him, soft sounds of need pouring from his mouth. “Heero—” Dammit, now he was even more turned on. “Mm.” “—come into me—” If it involved getting closer to his lover, then Heero was all for the idea. “Lube?” Please, please have lube… Quatre had used up his last ability of coherent speech and gestured toward the nightstand. It took discipline, it took effort, but Heero managed to convince his libido that releasing Quatre for the five seconds necessary to hunt for the lube would not, in fact, kill him. He pulled back enough to rummage quickly through the drawer, found it, and went right back to nibbling along soft and sweet skin. Quatre was the one that had to find enough motor coordination from somewhere to get the tube open and squirted a bit on Heero’s fingers. Once the slick substance truly registered in Heero’s mind, his need became tempered with fear of hurting his lover. Very slowly he slid one finger in, thrusting it in and out and keeping a sharp eye on Quatre’s face. At the first hint of pain, he was definitely going to stop. It felt…odd. Not unpleasant, just…odd. Quatre blinked at this and shifted to press in closer. “Add another finger.” Heero did as bid, sliding in another one, keeping a steady rhythm. He was subtly stretching and searching for a certain spot while doing it. Heero knew it was there somewhere, and if Quatre were to really enjoy this, then it was vital that Heero know where it was. The blond abruptly jerked, eyes flaring wide in stunned pleasure. Quatre knew rationally that what Heero had just touched his sweet spot—but intellect had taken a long over-due vacation some time ago and when white pleasure seared its way through his body he couldn’t think of it as ‘just’ anything, except maybe the spot where his soul and his heart and every nerve in his body was connected. That was surely the only way to explain why he was shaking like a live wire, unable to even draw a proper breath. Aha! That was it. Heero smirked and slid in another finger, aiming for that spot on a fairly regular basis. A few minutes of this and Quatre was squirming in need, incoherently begging for Heero to stop teasing. Heero couldn’t take much more either. He fumbled around for the lube and squeezed some more out, then dropped it carelessly somewhere. Quatre blinked open heavy eyes. What was Heero doing…oh. He shifted his legs further apart in anticipation, lifting one leg to twine around Heero’s hips as his lover positioned himself. Heero caught both legs and encouraged them to wrap around his hips. As Heero slid in, there was dual hisses of pleasure. Quatre shifted up, silently encouraging Heero to come all the way in. “Oh god you feel so good—” Heero threw his head back, groaning low. Never in his wildest imagination had he thought that just being inside his lover could feel so pleasantly overwhelming. Quatre was smiling in agreement, coherency completely beyond his capabilities at this point. With a flex of his knees and thighs he slid back a little, then up again. Mmm…moving felt even better. Heero was in definite agreement. Moving definitely made things better. With a soft grunt, he slid back and thrust in carefully. Quatre’s back arched, both hands digging into the Asian’s shoulders as he sought some kind of purchase. He felt like the world was spinning away from him, as if Heero was the only kind of constant in the universe, the only thing that was solid and real. There was a slight break in their rhythm as Heero shifted his hands down to the small of Quatre’s back to support him better, then he started working in and out…in and out…seeking out a certain spot that he knew would bring nothing but intense pleasure. Quatre jerked and cried out huskily as his prostrate was pounded against. It was too much—his head started shaking frantically back and forth—too much sensation, he couldn’t process it anymore or understand it, just feel. Something sharp and hot and heavy was building low in their bodies, straining for release. It made Heero pick up the pace until it was frantic, and Quatre squirm up desperately to match it. Uttering hoarse shouts of relief, instinct took over and sent them spiraling off the edge. Maybe it was a few centuries later…maybe it was a few minutes. The world may never know. All Heero knew when he could finally get his body regulated to something close to normal was that Quatre was out cold next to him, smiling peacefully. Well, he also knew that sex was one of the best things in the universe. He was beginning to understand just why men were so obsessed with it. If he could feel this good on a regular basis, and put Quatre into that same blissed state, it would feel like a little slice of heaven on earth. There was a little grin tugging at his mouth as he manipulated them both under the covers. Snuggling up behind Quatre, he settled down for sleep. After all of that hot sex, he definitely needed sleep. There was going to be a repeat performance the next morning, if Heero had any say, and he fully intended to have the energy necessary. + “We have nookie!” Fate cried exuberantly. Destiny caught his partner’s arm and led a happy dance around the room. + Duo knew precisely what two of his best friends had been up to last night. Considering they were both noisy as firecrackers when they were going off, it was kinda obvious. He slipped into their room carefully early the next morning, camera in hand. *click* On tiptoes, he snuck back out of the room, chortling under his breath as he retreated. “And we’ll call this picture ‘The Morning After’…” Now, what to do with it? Maybe he should sneak a copy of it into their math books… Hm. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. (Especially since he would be out of range when they figured out it had been his doing.) Yup, he was a genius. + By Sunday evening, things were back to ‘normal’—that is to say, a somewhat different normal than before, and hopefully something that would set the routine from then on. Heero was unpacked and settled in Quatre’s room. (Neither boy saw the point of being in separate bedrooms if they were going to be sleeping with each other every night anyway.) Iria was relieved to have Heero there, for several completely selfish reasons. One, Heero knew what to do with that Infernal Contraption—otherwise known as her computer—he was a neat freak and kept the house in good order, something she never really had the energy to see to, and with him there she didn’t have to worry about Quatre accidentally burning the house down or blowing up the kitchen. Both possibilities were rather high, to her mind. Quatre didn’t function well in a kitchen. Heero was in the kitchen that evening, trying to figure out what to cook since no one had thought to set out some meat to unthaw that morning. When the doorbell rang, it was Quatre that went to answer it. The man standing on the front porch was somewhere in his late forties, with thick dark brown hair and penetrating cobalt blue eyes. Quatre took one look into his face and knew precisely who he was. Fine blond eyebrows slammed together. “Jonathon Warren.” The man blinked at him in surprise. “Yes, that’s right. How did you know?” Cool. He had to stay cool. Just belting the man wouldn’t be a good move, no matter how tempting it was. “Heero has your eyes.” “Oh.” Jonathon digested that in silence for a moment. If Raiha’s description was anything to go by, this boy had to be Quatre Winner. He could rather see why she had been so wary of him. That cool stare was just a little unnerving. “I need to see Heero.” “Over my cold rotting corpse,” Quatre enunciated clearly. It was Jonathon’s turn to frown. “He’s my son, Winner. I have every right to talk to him.” “Whatever rights you had are null and void. I’m not letting any of you bastards near him.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that there was someone behind him. Quatre turned sharply to see Heero standing just a foot or so away. His lover’s face was impassive, nearly unreadable except the brief irritation that was evident in his eyes. “I should have known you’d come,” Heero remarked calmly. Jonathon’s mouth tightened. “Of course I would come. What the hell is going on, Heero?” “There’s a very involved answer to that question.” Heero ignored him for a moment to focus on Quatre. The blond was visibly irritated and about a second away from slamming the door in Jonathon’s face. Passing a soothing hand down his back he leaned in close to murmur, “I need to speak with him.” “Alright,” Quatre agreed unhappily. “But I reserve the right to shoot him between the eyes if he starts talking about taking you away.” Heero carefully didn’t smile, just nodded. “Okay.” With a brief glance at his biological father he gestured for him to follow and led the way into den. Jonathon took in a deep breath and followed him into the room, waiting until his son had turned to face him before starting. “Heero, I don’t understand any of this. When I showed up to see you at your mother’s house, she handed me this wild tale of you being practically kidnapped by some billionaire’s son with lawsuits ringing in her ears. Why are you here? How did you meet him? And what exactly is your relationship with him? It looks to be closer than just casual friends.” Heero had never told Jonathon where he had been or any amount of detail in his life. No one had asked for his opinion in anything anyway. It hadn’t been worth the effort, to his mind. Seventeen years worth of words and accusations starting boiling up to his tongue, and for the first time he let them out. “Are you aware that whenever you left, my mother would send me to some friend or relative to live?” Jonathon’s eyes closed in brief pain. “I know she did it a few times. Your Aunt Emiko kept you for nearly two years at one point—she asked that you stay when I called and talked to her. I’m only aware of three times that you left your mother’s house.” “It was more than that,” Heero whispered numbly. Aunt Emiko. Outside of Quatre’s house that was the only place he had ever felt at home. His great aunt had been a sweet old lady, and shown him all manner of things with nothing but love and patience. She’d taught him how to cook, how to dance, some basic sewing skills…so many things, really. He’d cried for the first time in his life the day she died. “I’m sorry Heero. I know she blames you in some twisted way for her choices.” He was beginning to see that there was a great deal about Heero that he didn’t know. “I assume that you met Quatre Winner this last time.” “Yes.” Heero brought himself back to the present, facing his father squarely. “Yes, I met him. It took nearly two months for him to convince me that he truly wanted me. And then you called, right on schedule, and I had to move back to a place that no one wanted me at.” Jonathon winced. “Heero—” “It broke his heart,” Heero rasped out angrily. “The one person that I never wanted to hurt. I won’t do that again. I won’t leave him again. Whatever arguments or logic you can propose won’t affect me. I’m not leaving him.” This was a lot harder than he thought it would be. “I won’t force you to go back there, Heero. I guess… I just wanted to give you a stable home life. I move so much in my profession, I thought it would be best to stay with your mother. That was a grave mistake on my part. We’ll work something else out. But you can’t just stay here—” “Yes,” Quatre interrupted coldly from the doorway, “he can.” Stalking forward he moved directly into the older man’s face, staring him down like a cobra would a rabbit. “Let me make something absolutely clear to you, Mr. Warren. Heero Is Mine. You were negligent with him, and careless—you’ve caused more damage than you can imagine. It might take me a lifetime to undo everything you’ve done. I’m not going to compound the situation by letting him go anywhere with you.” Several different things were whirling around, trying to fit into a pattern that Jonathon wasn’t sure he liked. Licking dry lips he carefully broached the subject. “You…are more than a friend, aren’t you?” “He’s my lover,” Heero answered quietly. He had a sudden urge to sit down. The pieces clicked into place, without any room for error. No wonder…no wonder Quatre was so vehement in his defense, and passionate in his declaration that Heero wasn’t going anywhere. And Heero… Jonathon looked at his son. “Lover,” he repeated softly, almost as if it was a foreign concept. “Surely you are both too young for that.” “Advanced age didn’t keep you from making any serious mistakes,” Heero pointed out with ruthless inconsideration. “I’m living proof of that. I don’t think you have a right to put an age limit on something like this.” “If you refer to yourself as a mistake one more time,” Quatre growled, “I’ll deck you.” He pivoted about to grab Heero by the shoulders and shake him a little. “You are not a mistake, or some unwanted thing, got it?” “That’s not what I meant—” Heero started to protest. The increasing glare he received made him switch tactics. Just humor the crazy person. “Okay.” Satisfied, Quatre let go and went back to staring at his enemy. “And as for you—considering the complete apathy you’ve shown toward Heero so far, I have to wonder why you’re even here. I can assure you, I’ll take much better care of him than you ever had. What do you hope to accomplish with this visit?” “Quatre!” Iria stood in the doorway, a little shocked and scandalized that her usually sweet and gentle brother was tearing figurative strips off a stranger’s hide. “Simmer down. Who is this?” “Jonathon Warren,” Quatre bit off. She blinked. “Oh. In that case, I congratulate you on holding back. Mr. Warren, you’re very brave to show up here. Quatre’s more than willing to shoot you at the moment.” “I gathered that,” Jonathon replied with a twisted smile. “You are?” “Iria Winner.” “Are you aware of everything that’s happened?” “Yes. Heero and Quatre both keep me updated.” She came more fully into the room as she spoke. Jonathon shifted a little. “Even their relationship?” “Especially their relationship.” She quirked a brow at the man. “They are a beautiful compliment to each other, Mr. Warren and I fully support the idea of Heero living here. I’ve seen what Quatre is like without Heero—and I don’t want to see it again. Besides,” she winked at Heero, “your son is a neat freak. The house is much cleaner with him here.” Heero snorted. “Not to mention you need a live-in technician for your computer.” “And a chef so Quatre doesn’t blow the house up,” she added impishly. “I’m not that bad,” Quatre grumbled darkly. “No, he just breaks things,” Heero disagreed while fighting back a smile. Quatre shot him a disgruntled look. “Can we get back to the subject at hand?” “When I came here,” Jonathon said slowly, “I had every intention of making things right.” “Things are right,” Heero corrected. “The only thing you would do is make them wrong, by trying to change it.” “…yes. I’m beginning to see that. Alright, Heero. Live here. But at least allow me to give you an allowance, and pay for your education.” Iria saw Heero hesitate and added in neutrally, “A parent’s duty is to see to the needs of their child.” Heero shot her a look. “Alright. And I suppose you’ll still check up on me every three months?” “Three months is too long, if present circumstances are anything to go by. At least once a week. And Heero—” Jonathon met his eyes squarely “—this time, I’m not going to accept grunts or silence as answers. You are going to tell me when you need something, or want something.” Heero quirked an eyebrow. “Hn.” ~*~*~
|
