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"25 Days of Gundam Wing"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Romance, sexual situations. Pairings: 2xH Summary: Duo celebrates his wife while she celebrates the Solstice. Prompt: Yule "25 Days of Gundam Wing " Chapter 13: Yule Cold and dark, this time of year, Duo reverently watched his wife recite the Yule prayer as she knelt before her alter. She placed her offerings across the cloth-covered surface and lit the golden candles. The low light from the Yule log, which would burn through the Sabbat, cast a yellowish glow onto Hilde’s white robes. Her feet were bare, a testament to Mother Earth, and a wreath of holly crowned her short, black hair. She was beautiful, her eyes closed, at peace as she whispered her prayers, welcoming the rebirth of the sun, and the start of life anew. Soon, they would feast and feast well, as long as the Yule log burned, and make love by the firelight. They would run outside, barefoot in the snow and dance and pray before going back inside to warm their bodies with more lovemaking and another feast. Duo absolutely loved this time of year. The solstices were a time of indulgence. That much was true, but it was when he got to see his wife in all her lovely, free-spirited glory. Relaxed, happy, at one with Nature. She cooked as if it were their last meal, she made love like a goddess, her skin kissed gold by the orange-red hues of the fire. Her dark eyes would glimmer, pupils dilated. Her lips stained red from the wine and swollen from their kisses. He watched his wife rise gracefully from the alter as if lifted by Britania herself. The robes opened, her white gown beneath low-cut, framing the beveled knot of her necklace which rested between her supple breasts. Duo’s manhood woke from its dormancy, swelling and throbbing for her attentions. She stood over him, silent..knowing. Intuitive of his vulnerability to her wiles. Her eyes shimmered as she knelt again, her breasts brushing against his knees and his hands ached to touch. To fondle and cup the soft flesh in his palms. To wrap his lips around a pointed nipple and savor the hitch in her breath. She gave a minute shake of her head. Not yet, love, her eyes said. Soon. Her hands reached up and grasped his knees, separating his legs. They slid gently up his inner thighs and brushed over his crotch, deft fingers popping the button on his jeans and pulling down the zipper. Duo’s head tipped back, helpless to the pleasure as her head lowered over his lap and swallowed him down. When he could no longer stand it, he laid her out on the rug before the fire and returned the favor. The skin of her thighs was warmed by the flames, her hands clutching his head as he brought her to an earth-shattering climax. He slid up her body and entered her swiftly. Still shivering with aftershocks, she responded with eager acquiescence, wrapping her legs around him as her black painted fingernails dug into the sinewy flesh of his back. Afterwards, they lay together on the rug and watched the snow fall outside. For now, they would rest. Then pray and eat, and the cycle would begin again. Duo stroked his fingers up and down his wife’s back, giving thanks not for the first time, for being given the chance to start his life anew. For every moment substantial and infinitesimal, for every chance to celebrate, for every Solstice to come.
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