"The Good Life"

The beach bar was quiet even though it would be the lunch time rush if they weren't in the Caribbean where it was a different pace of life to the colonies, to the world's biggest cities, it was a place where beers were opened early and fish was grilled on open BBQ's and sprinkled with lime and sea salt.

Trowa was sat at the bar as Heero observed him from a café, sat outside of it on a little wooden bench, further down the row, his eyes narrowed behind Ray Bans as Trowa did everything an average tourist did, drinking a bottle of beer where condensation poured down the side, eating some grilled fish with his fingers, wearing an obnoxious floral shirt and cargo shorts, a hat perched on his head. Somehow Trowa could look pretty average even though it was such an odd look for Heero to see him dressed as but Trowa had always had that innate ability to blend, to make people glance past him and Heero had often admired it. It was perhaps a skill they'd no longer use for missions, but it was one in their future lives that may come in useful as they would move around the earth sphere, together, without the pressure of the missions and violence that had marked their existences.

Heero drank his own glass of iced water, the bowl of fried plantain only picked at as the sound of a soccer game played on the screen inside the café as he watched unknown behind the sunglasses. The loud drawn out word "goal" sounded on the screen and Heero ignored it, taking a bite and watching as a Preventer agent made their approach.

The Preventer agent blended less than Trowa - the stiff backed walk, the eyes that scanned and took in the surroundings with suspicion. Trowa may be doing the same but he didn't look like he was - completely casual, eating, taking sips of beer, everything that made him average, normal. It almost made Heero snort - there was nothing average or normal about Trowa Barton.

The interaction was brief, the agent buying a beer, taking a sip for cover before an envelope was exchanged, small enough for Trowa to fold up and put in the front pocket of his cargo shorts. The agent downed the rest of the alcohol, threw some money on the bar and left, passing by Heero as he did.

The warm breeze ruffled Heero's hair as he watched Trowa finish eating, pull out money, say a few words and then get up, walking away slowly, his hands in his pockets. Heero paid, left a tip, and got to his feet to join Trowa, following him, his pace faster so that he caught him up once they were away from the row of beach bars and tourist stalls, walking then across the white sand and back to their temporary home.

The wooden house was off the beach, the blue paint peeling, it was temporary and old, the water running cold and the electricity pretty damn useless due to storms and the heat but it didn't matter as it was the last few days, the last few time of discomfort and it would be another place they'd be in, chosen by them rather than some uniform wearing Prev commanders.

Trowa opened the envelope, pouring out the contents onto the low coffee table, and there were as requested the termination papers, some stocks and share documents in false names. Heero looked at them, Trowa not damn caring, only walking over to the window, looking out towards the sea. Once Heero knew their instructions had been followed, he put the contents back inside the envelope and stepped across the room, coming up behind the taller man, resting his head on his shoulder.

He still walked with a little limp weeks after Panama and Trowa felt a slight hint of guilt, annoyance, but Heero didn't give a shit what Trowa thought about his actions. He'd survive the knife wound, so he'd calculated and maybe... maybe Trowa wouldn't have. And that was a thought that Heero found too damn difficult to contemplate.

Trowa turned to face Heero and his green eyes looked a little concerned. "You still sure?"

"Yeah," Heero said, "it's done now. Time to move on."

There was nothing left to say but Heero could feel Trowa react as he moved a hand to the bottom of his shirt, ghosting up underneath it to feel the skin underneath. He smirked, pushed forward, trapping Trowa against the glass of the window, his hips and body making him unable to escape. Though Heero supposed he didn't want to as he reached for Trowa's face, bringing him down in a forceful motion for a kiss, hard and bruising and hot.

The high of missions was always damn good, the adrenalin, the feel of being useful, of being powerful in control but being with Trowa had its highs, the way that Trowa could be both very dominant and submissive to Heero's needs, how he was strong and his body firm in all the right places. Heero's fingers traced over abs, running up to pecs, to nipples, tweaking one hard between his fingertips, giving him a little bit of pain with his pleasure as their tongues slid against each other, wrapping around each other, twining together and thrusting deep into each other's mouths.

Heero thrust his hips up into Trowa's, their dicks hard against each other, their bodies automatically seeking friction, grinding up against each other. Pushing him harder, his hands on Trowa's shoulders, he felt Trowa's back hit the glass and his partner moaned at the show of aggression, the sound captured in his mouth but still erotic, too fucking erotic, the noise of Trowa - so silent, so quiet, so stoic - moaning was one thing Heero lived for. And fuck, he could give up the highs of missions but he could never give up Trowa, too damn gorgeous, too damn intoxicating and what he damn needed. Yeah, they needed to quit as Heero did not know what he'd do if he was burying Trowa, if a wound was fatal and for some reason he could not stop it. He was the part of his life he could never give up.

Their lips parted, Heero dragging his teeth down Trowa's throat, scraping a red trail and Trowa's head went back against the glass, his body shivering at the sensation. Heero nipped at his pulse, biting a little into the skin, the bruise rushing to the surface, and he was marked, claimed as his, Trowa little gasp showing his approval.

"The shirt..." Heero murmured, his fingers working at buttons, "it's not your colour."

Trowa let out a short laugh. "No?"

"No." With the word, Heero gave up with button, smirking as he parted the fabric damn quickly, sliding it off Trowa's broad shoulders, touching his skin, the firm muscles of his biceps, his lips following down to collarbone, biting there, his hand reaching down the firm muscles of Trowa's stomach until he reached shorts, undoing the button one handed, swiftly, his own need increasing and he wanted Trowa now, so he impatiently grasped at his cock, hard, wet at the tip while kissing and mouthing at his skin in apology for every mark.

"Turn, Barton."

"No more orders..." Trowa said through parted lips, panting as Heero's thumb slid across the head of cock, slicking pre-cum and making him tremble.

Heero laughed, a little husky chuckle as he continued his touch, the slide of his fingers over every inch of Trowa's dick, his firm smooth strokes bringing his partner close to the edge but he wouldn't come from a hand job - no, it would be by a hard fuck, the last time maybe they'd need to be this rough, the last time they'd need to be this violent. Or maybe they always would need it like this as Trowa followed the order, the soldier he'd always been, and Heero pushed him, bending him a little at the waist, his large hands against the glass as he pushed down shorts, the fabric pooling around Trowa's ankles, the grey boxer briefs following, falling to the floor.

He fumbled, Heero's usual composure lost for one moment, searching for lube in his own pocket, kneeling down behind Trowa, parting ass cheeks, his tongue briefly swiping, the flick of it making Trowa moan, loud, and Heero smirked, repeating the motion, before he stopped his tease, the sound of Trowa's noises making him too damn needy, his dick so hard that he relieved that pressure, touching himself, squeezing his cock as the fingers of his other hand penetrated, his index finger slipping just inside, the slick digit opening Trowa's body for him.

"Heero," Trowa growled.

There had been times in the past when Heero would have heard the way Trowa spoke his name, that rawness in his throat, that neediness and he would've complied, sinking into his body too fast, knowing the pain added something to the experience but fuck, this time he ignored Trowa's whine, sliding one finger in, followed by another, his other hand grasping Trowa's cock in his hand, sliding up and down as he worked his fingers inside Trowa.

He hit prostate, feeling the jerk of Trowa's body, and soon, but not soon enough for a needy Trowa, he had three fingers inside him, thrusting them in, Heero's blue eyes watching his actions, knowing that soon it would be his cock inside there, the tight heat of Trowa's body surrounding him and making him feel a freedom, a bliss, that only he'd ever had with fucking Trowa. His own body demanded and he stood, lining his rock hard dick and his lips worried at the skin of Trowa's shoulder, as he slid inside, biting down at the moment of penetration, his eyes closing as he let himself submit to the feelings and nothing else mattered.

They didn't know where they'd go or what they'd do. They had no relevant skills in normality, they had no place to go but Heero didn't think about that, instead, he let his hips thrust forward and rock back, his inward push forcing Trowa hard into the glass, his head banging against it and Heero repeated the motion, quick and fast, feeling the ripples of Trowa's body as he fucked him.

They could travel the damn earth sphere, try to find somewhere to call home but Heero didn't give a shit about "normal" lives, about settling down, about finding steady work as Trowa was his life, his home and he would never lose him or let him go. He'd never admitted it verbally, never admitted it even to himself except in the blackness of night, awake alone in a dirty hotel room, but Trowa had saved him too many damn times and without him, Heero would back to being alone, wandering. He didn't want that.

His pace increased, Heero's hips snapping forward as Trowa bucked back, encouraging him with every movement. There was sweat dripping down Trowa's neck and Heero lapped at it, tasting the saltiness, tasting him as he fucked him harder, his dick caressed by every inch of Trowa's body, his world sparking in pleasure.

"Fuck," Trowa panted and Heero kept his unrelenting rhythm, his hand, still sticky with lube, reaching down to Trowa's cock, his hand matching the movement of his hips, Trowa throwing his head back at the overwhelming sensations.

Heero grunted, sweat dripping down his face, matting his hair in his eyes as he looked over Trowa's shoulder, seeing his hand slide over that hard cock. He pushed in so damn far and hard and Trowa let out a harsh pant as he came, his cock twitching in Heeeo's fingers, cum dribbling over his hand and down the glass as Heero thrust a few more times into Trowa's pliant body, finding his orgasm like a damn freight train, pleasure trailing from his dick through every nerve, taking a moment of panting, of leaning against Trowa's back until he had enough brain cells to shakily move away, pull out, walk to the bathroom.

He heard Trowa as he turned on the shower, the frigid water not warming but he'd had worse as he stepped into the spray. Trowa stepped in behind him and they kissed again as Heero ran his fingers over all the bite wounds and hickey's he'd created.

When their lips separated, the cold water sliding over both of their faces, Heero ran his hand to Trowa's bang, pushing it away from his face, exposing both eyes.

"Start of our new life?"

Trowa gave a slight smile, the one that had always made something in Heero's stomach bottom out and he nodded.

"A better life."

In frigid cold water, they kissed again, the heat of their bodies and each other's touch keeping them warm as the rest of their lives started. Heero didn't know where they were going but as long as Trowa was with him, he was good with wherever life took them.

Fin

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