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"Free Falling"Written By: Kaeru Shisho Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, rated for language, yaoi pairings Pairings: 2x1, 3x4 Summary: Duo searches for the key to happiness and love while free falling through life A/N: I couldn't have done this without Waterlily's
invaluable editing "Free Falling" Chapter Three After dropping Heero at the back entrance to Preventers HQ-L5 division, I spun the ASTRA 780 back onto the roadway, and followed the GPA instructions to my demolition site. Take away gravity, atmosphere, orientation, natural light, sound, and context, replace them with dangerous radiation, abrasive planetary dust, and orbital debris, and what you've got are the baffling and disorienting demolition and construction conditions I usually worked under. Welcome to my world. At Winner Corporation, I'm called a sustainability engineer, a fancy-ass name for a garbage recycler. On Earth, buildings are typically demolished and dispatched to landfills, but in space, obsolete structures get disassembled and their components reused, which is where I come in. It was highly dangerous work I was great at for rather decent pay. On Earth, most building codes translated "life safety" to an acceptable risk determined by a rating system for materials and assembled structures. In space, "life safety" literally meant survival. Consider the possibility of burning to death in a fire. Earthside, fire escapes and easy-access exits were required and usually sufficient, sprinkler systems getting used for larger buildings. Not an option in space. Liquids don't fall. Danger is a less remote concept. But I grew up on a colony where the great void was only a slit in the skin away. My teenage years spanned a war where I fought with scythe and laser beam in outer space. Which all amounted to "life safety" procedures being a way of life for me. As I said, there was highly dangerous work that needed doing and I was not only equipped to do it, but damn well the best worker in the business right off the bat. Mostly I stowed my ass in my craft and used robotic arms to disassemble, position, and carry the loads. Putting on what amounts to the Pillsbury Doughboy suit and floating in free fall with nothing but a few tether lines and an emergency power pack between being the God of Death and Death itself was not my first choice. Outer space was a heck of a place to build and work. For starters, it alternated frigidly cold and dark as ink with blisteringly hot and bright as a noontime desert—a climatic flip-flop that took place every three-quarters of an hour. But working out in space paid well, and the day was often over before I realized it. Also, the best folks I'd ever known were all spacers. One of the lift operators told me where to get bargain-priced TP, so I cut across town to buy as much stuff on Heero's list that I thought I could cram into the miniscule car. As long as I stayed away from the JUMBO packs I was good. I used the GPS to verify my route home just once. After parking, I toted bags of crap, punched the room number, and Heero let me in, dangling a set of plastic card passes in my face. "For me? Thanks--!" Not only was the apartment filled with the odor of pasta sauce and frying sausage, but before I could kick the door shut, I was relieved of all things heavy and enveloped in everything Heero. Arms, legs, torso, and that kiss! Our kisses varied, but were mostly soft. Not what I had expected from Heero Yuy at all. He didn't say anything, but I couldn't help but wonder what he expected from me. My mouth moved off his lips and sucked along his jaw up to his ear to suck on the soft lobe. I freed up one hand and massaged across his toned chest, snaring a firm nipple between my fingers. His hand clutched the back of my neck and pulled my face back to his. Our first kiss of the day in the kitchen had been sweet with little real zeal, more understanding and acceptance. The kiss we locked in after work was fueled by passion and a growing desire for sexual exploration; at least it was on my part. With Heero, I lost track of my limits. I was nearly unconscious from lack of air and super dizzy excited when he stepped back and forced me to stand on my own two feet. And it was impossible to hide my obvious hard on. I stood there for a moment looking at him, wanting to drag him into the bedroom and finish what we had started. Heero reached down and adjusted himself, grunting a little as he did it. His humor might have been the only thing to save us from ourselves. "Down boy, down." He could have been talking to himself or me, but either way we both smiled and snickered. He indicated that I could go about putting away my purchases while he completed dinner. I hid away in our room, e-mailing a few friends and giving Heero some space. I didn't have him figured out at all. He was gay and wanted me. I hadn't put him off at all; still, he restrained himself from furthering any sexual activity. He seemed as frustrated as me, so I didn't think he was a tease. I just couldn't figure him out. Dinner was terrific, but then I was starving and he'd prepared it. Heero and I ate in silence and then I cleaned up. After wiping my hands dry, I located Heero on the couch, working. He snapped his laptop closed and looked up. "We should get to know one another," he said, "before we go further." I didn't even ask him why he felt waiting was important. "Okay," I said, as agreeable as ever in spite of the surprise. As I thought about it-- I wasn't a reflective sort of guy, ordinarily but being with a quiet guy like Heero made me more so—in the past, I had let my partners initiate sex. Quatre sure did and Hilde, too. First times, anyway. I would not be the one to press anyone into sex. If they weren't as excited about it as me, especially someone who'd had a bad experience like Heero, then I'd hold back, too. And I was excited. My skin was prickly, my blood running high; I was itching to get on with it—it being sex, naturally. "But can you give me an idea how long that might take?" "A week." He reached out with his bare foot and nudged me away to a safer distance, smiling with what I hoped I read right as "reluctance" all the while. I sighed and resigned myself to the solitude of "my side" of the couch. I figured I could wait a week, but not much longer. "Oh, well, okay." Maybe I agreed too fast, because the corners of his lips twitched as he said, "Or more." (o) It's hard to believe, or maybe not, but doing laundry was never a favorite pastime of mine-- until I had Heero to share it with me. I did laundry. Hilde did hers. I'd do mine, she'd do hers, but never together. Heero, though, wanted to show me the "ropes", which meant his way of doing things, so we stripped the bed and collected towels, gathered our own stuff, and hefted it all to the basement facilities. He started a "hot" load for the bedding and towels, inviting me to toss in my underwear with his, so I did. While that was happening, he went about sorting the rest of his clothes into piles, which he explained patiently, after noticing my flummoxed expression, probably, were piles of "permanent press", "darks", and "lights." I told him about my "lights turn grey" single job loads and he thought I was being funny. And then I assured him I was not. That led to Heero instructing me to read "fabric care" labels and that led directly to sorting clothes for reasons he described in specific detail. My pile of clothes and his pile of clothes became "our" piles of color-coded, fabric-content determined clothes. After that, I was pretty handy loading and unloading the machines. Believe it or not, he was also rather particular about folding, and taught me a trick or two to shape all my things into orderly rectangles, which would fit neatly into his dresser drawers alongside his rectangles. Cool. "The furniture came with the apartment. Half the bureau drawers are empty, so they're for your use, but if you want something more, or different even, we can shop for that, if you want." "Not unless I have to," I said with a bark of a laugh. "I guess I'm lucky. I've never had to buy a stick of furniture. Anyway, I only need a shelf or two. I, ah, use a box or the floor back on L4." I swear Heero winced. "That makes it more difficult to vacuum," he said. "Vacuum? Heh, heh...." Yes, space was a vacuum. Who knew that it was a dirt-sucking machine, too? Heero knew, for one. "Well, if you hadn't told me before, I'd know now that you never lived with anyone, especially a girl." And because he laughed and his laugh gave me a little thrill, I didn't punch him. I had a feeling he had "ways" of keeping his apartment clean that I'd never dreamed of, but would be illuminated upon in no time, and I wasn't disappointed. "You didn't buy the brands I specified," he said. Well, tough shit. "I looked for them, but they don't have the same ones at the Bargain Bin. Here's the receipt. You can see what I paid." He studied the receipt, which I had saved like he'd told me (a miracle in itself), opened his handy-dandy pocket computer and entered and compared data. I was beginning to worry that I'd really blown it big at the Bargain Bin. But why would one of my work buddies steer me wrong? "You saved thirty percent." His voice was wonder-filled. "That's good, right?" "Yes. Very. Where is Bargain Bin? How did you find it?" Score! I told him about the guys at work and how they knew how to cut corners and where to go bargain hunting. He didn't know people like that, and so I said I'd introduce him around. That's how I got the return invitation to meet him at the Preventers building, see his office, and go to lunch, whenever I had a free afternoon. "Call first," he suggested. "I'm not always in." "You bet," I agreed. Cutting corners, whittling away at all the necessities, was all worth it to afford a car like 'Ro's. He and I were definitely in sync about that. (o) We kept to his schedule of early to bed, early to rise, and kept our bedtime activities as chaste as Sister Helen would have prayed for. It wasn't what I'd expected, imagined, or could have predicted. From the get go, I had expected to split the chores and live independent lives, but as it was turning out, we cooked together and cleaned together, which was for my benefit, I guess, so I could learn the ways of the Yuy. It wasn't so bad. He wasn't overbearing or fussy, just instructive, and then he'd let me go at things my way without picking out my mistakes. Nagging would have driven me nuts. I didn't mind the coaching and absorbed the attention it brought me like a street kid would a smile and a handout. It was like that when we prepared dinner together, too. Rather than him going his way and me going mine, we gravitated to the same place and fell into working together. "Sauté the onions with the ginger and garlic, while I finish slicing the zucchini." "Sauté, 'Ro?" "Like this." "This way?" "Hmmmm, yes." Following his demonstration, I usually could execute directions, and if I did it right he'd reward me with kisses. I knew the training scheme; it wasn't as if he were trying to trick me into anything. And it all worked out because I wanted to learn and make him happy, and he wanted us to mesh our lives and to please me. Living together was comfortable and while not seamless, our time together was something I looked forward to after work. I hadn't noticed that he didn't own a TV and I hadn't watched a movie since moving in. "Do you find our arrangement satisfactory?" he asked one evening while I washed dishes and he dried. "Yeah, I do. How 'bout you?" "Content, yes," he said. Our eyes met and he smiled with a kind of warmth that frizzled my neurons. "I missed you these past years and you've grown." "Sure have. I'm still growing and I'll be way taller than you by the time I stop." "Grown character-wise, smart aleck." He sniffed and smiled. "I thought you took things too lightly during the war, but it was me taking myself too seriously that was the problem." "Perspective's hard to keep when the good guys and the bad guys keep changing places. Like the old ball-and-cup trick? If the slight-of-hand artist is good, you won't ever know where the ball has got to, but you might guess right some of the time." "You guessed right a lot of the time. You saved my life once, I remember." "What time was that?" You'd think I'd remember an important event like that. Then he described that attack, rendering before my mind's eye that same terrifying scene which my brain had slipped past me our first night in bed. How had Heero known to choose that terrible scene from our past, that particular one? "The explosions grew closer and I froze," he said, and then repeated it, "Just froze there. Like in a trance as the awful spectacle took place. I was oblivious to the reality going on around us. You grabbed onto me and dragged me to the ground. I might have walked off into that raging inferno had you not held onto me." I hadn't thought of it that way. A change of viewpoint transformed the whole story. "I was scared shitless, 'Ro. I was pretty sure we were about to die and I was holding onto to you for dear life." Our eyes met. His were deep and blue and searching mine for backup, I thought. "You were my lifeline then, and here you are again." "Yep!" "Saving me." "You're saving me, too, ya know." "I'm saving Winner Corp the cost of another apartment for you. You don't need me. You already have more friends here than I do." "I might have acquaintances, but you're wrong about the needing part." I wrapped him in an embrace and ground into him so he couldn't overlook my carnal needs. He laughed and shoved me away. I flung soapy water at him and he snapped me with the towel. I caught the tip of the towel and reeled him in, but he let go, spun around, and snared my braid. Oh, I squawked and punched him for that, which made the wrong impression on him. He thought I was hysterically funny with that perverse sense of humor of his. He believed he was invulnerable to my attacks. He was not, just nearly. I made as much as possible of my superior height, but Heero Yuy was inhumanly and unfairly strong. Once he had my arms pinned to my sides, I was had. I wiggled; I squirmed; I kicked, but only half-heartedly because I didn't want to actually hurt him. We were just roughhousing for fun and an outlet for our sexual tension. "Say it, Maxwell." "Nu-uh." Squeeze. "Say it!" Squeeze, squeeze. "Nuuh. Okay! You win, okay? Jeez..." "You could have said it right off and avoided the pain." "I'm not a weenie." "Hn. I'm taking the first shower," he declared, having won that round. (o) In the last week I had before I was due back on L4, I scheduled in a visit to the Preventers agency where Heero worked. So far, he had lent me his car for getting to and from my job sites, while he had used the company car or snagged a ride home with some poor schlub from his work. To show him how much I appreciated the sacrifice it must have been to turn over his gorgeous wheels to me, I took off the afternoon to see him, pick him up, and go out to eat. "What's with the rain?" I asked after dashing from the parking lot to the rear entrance of Heero's workplace. He met me under cover of a narrow overhang. "It's not rain. It's a reoccurring leak in the water circulation pipes." And he proceeded to explain the combination of radiation on war torn metals mined from susceptible materials and placed in vulnerable positions. "It's cold and getting dark and it's daytime." "They are attempting to match the weather with seasons. This is winter." "Why? It's a colony. We don't need seasons." "Someone thinks so." He was looking me over, a hungry look in his eyes. "We can get dinner now," I suggested, though I wondered if a quick fuck in alley would have been more nourishing. If nothing else, I could face adversity of that sort, heh, heh. "Yeah." I followed his directions to a small Chinese restaurant on the outskirts of the town. The abandoned buildings and empty lots gave the area a broken, neglected appearance. "Will your car be safe parked here?" "Yes." Ah yes, this was L5 and pretty much crime free. I gave the slick machine a love pat and looked for the direction to go. Heero took my arm and led me around the corner to the back of the restaurant. There was a moment of silence between us and I used it to listen for anyone who might be approaching. I had a healthy amount of caution firmly implanted in my brain. Muggers, gay-bashers, ex-Gundam-pilot-haters—I'd met them all at one time to the other in my past. Reassured by the quiet and secure in our darkened spot, I reached out and caught his waist. "So, do you come here often?" I asked. I pulled him closer. "Yes, but I chose this restaurant because the other agents don't come here." "Oh. The folks at work don't know you've gotta male roommate, right?" "Correct." "And you aren't ready to let them know, huh?" "Not until—" "Not until we're solid. Gotcha. Hey, I wouldn't wanna blow my rep unless I thought it was a sure thing either." "That's not what I meant. I don't care what they think, but I don't want to draw undue attention to you, should you not want it to get out that we are, oh, I don't know." I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him close. "You don't care; I don't care." My chin rested so comfortably on its favorite spot between his neck and shoulder, it was as if he were designed for me, created just for me. "Warm." His hands slipped underneath my jacket and rubbed up and down the outside of my sweatshirt, inadvertently exposing the bottom of my lower back to the cold air. It was so good to feel him in my arms, even if for just a few minutes, I didn't mind the slight chill. I could not believe how much my life had changed in just a couple weeks. I could not believe I was holding Heero Yuy like that. I could not believe I hadn't made a move on him yet. So I did. I whispered into his ear, "I've really missed this," before wetting my lips and kissing his neck playfully. He rotated his neck to the side giving me better access to a soft spot previously just outside my reach. I shoved my cold hands straight up the inside of his shirt, lifting it enough in the process to deliberately expose a very taut pair of nipples to the cold air, rolling them in unison with a thumb from each hand and sending him lunging backwards laughing and pulling his shirt back down. "Cut it out!" he said. "I don't like that." "Oh? We'll have to make sure about that later." I pitched my voice to sound husky and suggestive. "You think?" he asked. He straightened his clothes and folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, it's been two weeks of abstinence." I waggled my eyebrows and he snorted. "You've survived." "Sure did. I'm tough." Looking back, I shouldn't have said that. I should have whined and begged for mercy. But I had my pride and it chose to rear its stubborn head right then. I watched an evil smile spread to his eyes and felt this eager little chest palpitation go off like a cheer "yes!" I just knew I was getting lucky tonight! "Then you can wait until you get back from L4." "Ah, fuck, 'Ro?" Now I whined. "Not tonight. I'm not ready, understand? We'll discuss this later. Let's go eat." I huffed a little at the "injustice" then eased off and we entered the eatery through the back door. Like I said, I didn't force anyone into having sex with me. I never thought I'd feel like I'd have to! The food wasn't bad and we took home boxes of leftovers to reheat the next day, but I wasn't content with how things had worked out. Why wasn't he ready? What more did he need to feel ready? I felt ready for the both of us. I ducked into the shower first, while Heero looked over the mail. And as I combed out and plaited my hair, he cleaned up. He exited the bathroom and I asked the question that had been on my mind all evening since he driven me away. "Why? I'm going back to L4 tomorrow night. I'd like a nice memory to take away with me." He had to know what I meant; I was not into playing games. Still, he stood his ground. "We are compatible in many ways, but we don't know one another—not really." I fell onto the bed, my arms and legs spread. "I'm an open book. Flip through the pages. Find something you like. How 'bout it?" Heero hovered over me, then slumped on top, supported by his elbows on either side of my head. I waited, expecting him to give in and kiss me any second. "Your body is a manual for seduction." He tapped a finger against my head. "This is a vault of hidden information. This is what's closed off to me. I want to see in here." A vault? For God's sakes I wasn't trying to hide. Much. "What is it you want to know?" "You tell me. What should I know? Here's what I know about you: You had a war flashback and panic attack the first night you were here. You eat anything. You have been sexually active. You're adaptable, accommodating, friendly, and non-demanding—mostly." "You left off hot and sexy," I said with a grin and hopeful expression. "DUO!" "Okay, so what's left that's important? I've never been in love. I never looked at you before as anything but a war buddy and now I see you as a friend and—" "And?" "Potential," I said, feeling rather lame to use Hilde's term for me. "I see potential, and a hot, sexy guy who I really want to touch me and fuck me—" "I get the picture." He looked sad, thoughtful, and wary at the same time. I know he wanted more from me, but I didn't know what at the time, which was his point, I guess. I didn't know him that well either, but it was clear that sexual attraction wasn't enough for him to change our "interaction limitations." "Stop by the agency tomorrow, if you can, and I'll show you around. We can take the afternoon off." "Can't. Gotta get a shitload of stuff done before I shut down to go back. I'll make it a point to drop by before I take off, though." His face fell, but he recovered fast. Could it be that he was going to miss me and my intrusion into his orderly life? "Now, go to sleep, Maxwell." As if! "Yeah, sure." But as I lay there listening to him drift off to sleep, I thought about what he'd said. I could understand, kinda, why he wanted to wait. After the awful kind of experience he'd had with a fellow agent, what might an ex-Gundam pilot turn into? I'd know how to restrain him properly; I might get the upper hand. He might see me as a very real possible threat. Yeah, I'd want to be sure ole Duo Maxwell's head was screwed on straight if I were him. But not too straight. (o) The next day I had a change of heart and put off the work. Let them try to replace me! I showed up at his job place and Heero delightedly took off the rest of the day to be with me. It was my last day on L5 before I'd return to L4 for two long weeks. To celebrate, Heero took me to his health club and signed me up for a year membership. That was nice. Even nicer was his letting me wear a spare set of sweats and getting a chance to work out with him. Not that I could keep up, but I didn't embarrass myself. A few guys were checking me out, not in a gay "cute ass" way, but in a social, competitive male "nice pecs" way. They looked over Heero too, green with envy. Let them; only I had touched him. After and good hour of muscle flexing, we showered and had lunch. "Ready to see my office?" "After that workout and a full stomach, I'll be ready for bed, but I'll bet your office has a comfortable sofa I can crash on." He thought I was funny, I think, but I was truly tired from the work out. He let me off the hook for a whole-building tour and didn't call me a wuss. "I need to pick up something at my desk then we can go to our place until it's time for your shuttle." Workaholic Yuy was taking off the rest of the day for me. I was touched. The sign etched into the glass at the door read: Chief of Security Overseeing Reconstruction. "Now there's a title. How come your name's not on it too?" "So far, no one's held the job longer than nine months. Saves on the window dressing." I nosed around the room, noting a paper on his desk with red URGENT lettering across the top from the Institute for Biomedical Problems. "So, what's your biggest threat out here?" "Huh?" His eyes traced around the desk to the paper that had caught my attention. "Oh, that. Bacteria and fungus cover equipment, feed on the surfaces, and damage them. The acids some bacteria secrete cause metal corrosion and damage the instruments and illuminators. Some fail to survive in colony environments, but the majority adapt and then get carried around by transport spaceships. That memo is from the head of a research group who investigates microbe conglomerations in space. She believes more anti-microbe protection is needed." "And of course she has some new-fangled proposal?" I asked. "Yeah, you guessed it. Some new and original method of disinfection in space. "What we use now is a spray application to everything making the surfaces hydrophobic." "Oh yeah?" "Water vapor does not stick on the material; and microbes cannot survive on an absolutely dry surface." "Gotcha. But how can you make sure everything's been sprayed? I wasn't treated-- or was I?" "I doubt it and, yeah, that's a problem. So, what researchers have developed is a way to slow down all life process, for microorganisms, called anabiosis. That means that cells don't grow, reproduce, or secrete harmful substances." I scanned the document until I found the word anabiosis. "Polymodal anabiosis autoinductors: they stop the microorganism growth and metabolism when applied to construction materials and instruments." Cool. "Just so that doesn't get into the food supply or water, right?" "It's microbial-specific and no danger to humans." "You hope." "I believe." "Make sure, okay?" "For you, I will." He smiled. "For you—" The rest of his comment was lost in the peal of the vid phone alarm, so I stood back so he could take the incoming call, and I scanned his bookcase. "Wufei! What is it? It can't be good by your expression." I examined the contents of his bookcase and eavesdropped intently. "...Going into a civil law suit, criminal charges dropped as long as you remain on L5 until further notice..." I dusted off the top of the file cabinet, and looked for something else to occupy my attention. His desk was wide with papers and files stacked at the sides. It was clean in the middle. My imagination pictured him there—naked. Suddenly, I was feeling all peppy, getting my second wind. I moved the pencil holder and the artificial plant to the floor, just in case. I heard Heero sigh, and then ask, "Won't that be a problem for you? You were hoping to establish your own life here." Looking over the wall décor took no time at all, so I crept around to the door and engaged the lock. His eyes shot my way, acknowledging I'd locked his door, then back to the vidphone. "I am working on other arrangements." Wufei's voice sounded resigned and distant, but to me that's how he always sounded, that or angry. "I'm sorry," Heero said. I nudged his back, letting him know I was near. "I know. Don't dwell on this." "Did I tell you, Winner hooked me up with a roommate?" "You want a roommate after...all...that happened?" Now, that was the faltering and sputtering with anger Wufei I knew. "It's Duo." "Maxwell?" He looked practically apoplectic when I looked over Heero's shoulder and waved. "Yes, Duo Maxwell. His work takes him from L4 to L5, so he's staying with me part time. He's standing right here; would you like to say hello?" I poked my head in front of the monitor. "Yo, Wu! Long time no see." "I am speechless. You look...well." He appeared well, too. In fact, he was taking my intrusion into Heero's life better than I had thought he would. He had only sounded like he was about to have a stroke. "So do you. I like your hair down like that. Mine's a bit shorter." I wiggled the two-foot long braid at him, and he blinked then smiled. "That's hardly shorter. Listen, I'm sorry, but I really am late for an appointment," he said. "We must talk more-- later." "Well, I'm goin' back to L4 inna couple hours, so our chat'll have to wait for my return trip in two weeks. Ciao, Wu!" I didn't have a vidphone at the L4 apartment. "Thanks, Wufei." Heero cut the vid and fell into a relaxed lean against a wall ready to resume our conversation. "Where were we?" "Anabiosis. You have a degree in architectural engineering? When did you finish that?" I pointed to a nicely matted document on the wall. "I took time off and Preventers paid me to get a degree." "Man, Une must like you." "Yeah, but much less now," he said with a mirthless chuckle. "So, why do this job when you could be constructing...what? Buildings?" "Space architecture. It's a specialty within a profession where you must think outside the ozone in several areas." "Cool. You should do that. Quit this and be an architect." "No firm will hire ex-Gundam pilots." "Then they're fools." He gave me the most appreciative look ever, and then he was on me, literally. Hands, lips. God, I loved the taste of him. Our tongues tussled for control but neither won over the other. I moved my mouth off his and clamped onto that soft spot under his chin that made him moan. I sucked until he whimpered and then I nipped him for good luck before sliding over his lips for more. I could not get enough of him. My hands were rubbing his chest and stomach, but I couldn't feel him. This had to change, so I helped him shed his uniform jacket, tie, and button-down shirt. I hooked the bottom of his white T-shirt and pulled. He was enjoying a special moment with my bottom lip and took an extra second before giving me just enough space to pull the shirt completely over his head and toss it to the side. With full access to his warm, golden skin I planned to drive him crazy to the limit he'd drawn for us. He groaned as my fingers brushed over his nipples. That shot my resolve to hell. One of us was getting some now. Duo Maxwell was in charge, baby. My lips wrapped around his and my hands massaged his shoulders finding something malleable in that rock-hard build of his. He bent, stretching his groin into mine and let out a needy groan. That was too much for me. "Jesus," I hissed, teeth clenched against screaming his name. I wanted him so bad. I tried a feather-light touch along his sides and he squirmed and bucked. "Yuy's ticklish," I whispered. "Your secret's good with me." "Nuh, nuh, not!" Sure, babe. "You are so hot," I muttered, moving my hand consciously over, down, and center, hooking onto his excitement and grasping it through his slacks. I felt him shiver at the contact, and knew the pants had to go next. I unfastened his belt, unhooked the top button of his pants, and sent the zipper flying with nimbleness born out of necessity. This I could do with my eyes closed, and actually did, because my face was buried in his neck. I was so involved in what I was doing to him, I missed what he was doing to me. Almost. I was aching hard for him. My hand slipped beneath his boxers smooth as silk. I found my goal and exposed him to the open air of his office. "Guh!" he murmured inarticulately. Better than "stop" or "not now." We toppled over onto the purposely cleared desk, me sprawled over him, him arching into my chest, his head flung back. I stared at him. Fuck, he really filled out when aroused; twice the girth and length of Quat. The sight of him like that instantly reinforced my cock to Gundanium standards, and I thrust into his thigh. I had to touch and he wasn't stopping me. My hand encircled him, fingering, touching, no overlap. Fuck, he was big. A stroke or two more and he tightened. I could almost hear his teeth grinding as he suppressed the volume of his pleasurable gurgles. I heard a splatter and a pool collected on his desk and then he went boneless under me. He awed me with that performance, short as it was. Afterward, we kissed playfully for a minute or two. Nothing demanding or invasive just sharing a bond, making each other feel good. We moved, turning over and trading places. He rolled over my erection, getting off his back, and it occurred to me that I hadn't released. What's more, I felt surprisingly indifferent to him reciprocating at this point; I liked the pressure in my jeans reminding me of how he looked under my control. The paper blotter crinkled as I rolled over it, wiggling myself out from under him the rest of the way. He didn't appear to be self-mobile, so I did the honors and cleaned him off with his discarded t-shirt and mopped off the desk. When I had finished, his eyes opened and searched out mine. "C'mere." Apparently, he couldn't wait for me to obey his order. He reached out and hauled me down onto him, and then kissed me deeply. I felt his hand squeezing between our compressed bellies. "'S okay, 'Ro." I pushed off and gave him a satisfied smile, and he looked back, puzzled. "Is something wrong?" he asked with concern. "Not at all. Actually, I don't think anything could top the way I feel right now. I just want to let it settle in, you know?" My words drew a look of amusement and surprise from him. I could tell by the way he asked, "So that was all just for me?" "This time around. I wanted to leave you with something to think about. Me, too." That night, he drove me to the launch site to watch me take-off with my load of L5 scrap. I left behind two-weeks' worth of clothes, a piece of my heart, and, I liked to think, a mopey Heero Yuy, who would miss my company enough to look forward to my return and not regret his choice to invite me into his life.
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