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"Mistletoe"Written By: Miss Murdered and ELLE Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters - am just borrowing to torment for my amusement Rating: NC 17 Warnings: m/m sexual relations, Christmas-ness,
bad language, hints of angst, humor and sap – usual stuff Pairings: 1x2 Summary: Set in the same universe
as Forever. Heero and Duo are forced to attend a Preventer Christmas
party - but they find their own way to enjoy themselves. "Mistletoe " Heero Duo jerked his hideous sweater down low over his hips
and we slunk along the hallway in what I'm sure was a more than suspicious
manner but there was no one to see, all too busy entertaining each
other in that cesspit of human refuse. While it's true I am normally
less than enthusiastic about the holidays, this year with the reprimand
from Une and the forced attendance in this kind of pretentious bullshit
parading around as caring and human compassion has made me less than
amiable. I fought for the "peace on Earth" these people
loved to talk out their asses about – it was only fitting I should
get to decide how I wanted to spend my time memorializing it. And the only person I wanted to spend it with was Duo. Okay, that's not entirely true. Christmas Eve at the
bar with Trowa and Wufei was acceptable, and I had even begun to look
forward to Quatre and Relena's New Years celebration, but that was
it. Those were the only people I cared to see and the only parties
I saw fit to attend – the only people I considered friends, the
only ones who really knew what "peace" entailed. Not these
secretaries with their low cut cable tops, fresh faced recruits, IT
analysts and political liaisons. But it wasn't difficult for Duo to take my mind from
all of that with one hell of a kiss and we slid into the copier room,
him eyeing the copier itself with a particular look that I was more
than used to by this point in our relationship. I wasn't keen about
what I knew was running through his mind. "Up," I dictated, resting my hand on the countertop
above which all the paper, toner, and other copier supplies were locked
beneath. "I have no intention of photocopying your ass with my
dick in it." Duo smirked devilishly and despite what I'd just said
and my best intentions coming in here, I did want to fuck him then
– on the copier, on the floor, buried in paper, I didn't give
a shit. I pulled him close to me, holding his waist and the back of
his neck, intending to kiss him again with teeth and tongue but he
laid a big hand on my face, a calloused thumb on my chin, and he grinned
down at me from under his eyelids. "But babe, when are we ever going to get another
opportunity like this?" "Knowing you?" I asked with a glare, impatient,
not wanting to talk after all the talking I had to do at the party.
"Next Tuesday." I cut his laugh off with my lips then, knowing he wouldn't
argue any more, and coaxed him back towards the countertop. He finally obeyed me, hoisting himself up and my hands
met that goddamn sweater. I'm not one to notice or care about fashion
– I would wear this stupid thing every fucking day if it was
required of me – but that sweater on Duo was really such a travesty.
Duo looked so much better in a suit, a uniform, a t-shirt, best in
the damn nude but in that he looked – shapeless, droll, sophomoric.
Oh he laughed when he found it at the store, dragging it off the rack
to show me. "The nose lights up!" he'd said, nearly cackling,
demonstrating this ridiculous feature before picking out an even larger
size, larger than anything in his closet currently and I said nothing,
just relishing in the sound of his laughter. Now I slid the sweater up to his abs, exposing his dick
jutting out from the crux of his pants, hard and straining and I licked
my lips a little in anticipation. I felt his fingers on my neck, wandering
up into my hair and I shivered at the gentle touch, moving forward
to lick across the head with the flat of my tongue, hearing him hiss
with pleasure, fingers tightening just a moment. "More," he murmured and I knew he didn't want
to screw around. I took him fully in my mouth then, feeling his thighs
shake, hearing a quickly muttered "fuck" and the sound of
paper crunching in his other hand. Long fingers stroked through my
hair and ruffled it lovingly and I knew he was watching as I went
down on him, increasing the suction, going deeper with every downward
movement, building him up to it climax quickly and efficiently. His breathing became shallow and erratic and I knew
he was close, hips thrusting a little, thighs tense. I was addicted
to this, to him, to us – and I didn't care. It was so much better
than anything else. He was so much better. I didn't know what I would
do without him – who I would be if we had never met. "'Ro...!" he gasped, dragging in air as I
stopped suddenly, removed my mouth and grabbed his swollen dick in
one hand, the other around his throat, applying light pressure and
I felt his skin prickle under my touch. "As soon as we get home," I growled in his
ear, his fingers twisting in my hair, hips thrusting harder, trying
to recreate friction against my firm grip, "I'm going to push
you up against the wall and you're going to let me fuck you. Hard."
I punctuated the statement by biting into his ear lobe, hot breath
washing against his skin. "And you're going to take it –
all of it – every fucking inch." I thought I'd have a moment to go back down on him but
his breath hitched, his dick swelled against my hand and before I
had a chance to respond he came, sagging against me, his head buried
in my shoulder. "Sorry," he murmured into my sweater, catching
his breath as I nuzzled the braid away from his neck with my nose
and pressed light kisses into his skin. But there was no apology needed.
"You know what it does to me when you talk dirty." I grinned against his neck reflexively, unable to stop
it, his praise always causing a reaction in me that I couldn't help
despite my best efforts. His attention was all I ever wanted, now.
Didn't do much for the career track, but then I'd never given much
of a fuck about my career. "It's okay," I assured him quietly, drawing
away to inspect the damage to my sweater, an unfortunate snowman having
taken a direct hit. "Do you think they'll let me go in without it?"
I asked, looking down at the soiled article of clothing. "Nah," Duo chuckled, shaking his head sadly
as he grabbed the sweater from me and threw it in the trash can before
sliding off the counter and adjusting himself in his boxers, fastening
his pants back up. "There was that stipulation in the email,
about tacky sweaters and appropriate dress." "Hmm," I frowned, my eyes moving from the
trashcan where the blue and white knit catastrophe now resided up
to Duo's eyes, crinkling with amusement as I spoke. "Guess we'll
just have to go home." "I know," he replied, leaning forward to wrap
his arms around my neck, pressing his warm body up against mine and
I felt his lips on my jaw, teeth nipping it. "I'm looking forward
to it." He had whispered in my ear and I sighed, hips rocking
against his a little as I imagined it – his braid wrapped around
my hand, my teeth in his neck, my dick buried deep in his heat. Well, we had attended the party Une had dictated we
attend, spent a whole hour there in fact, so I thought it was more
than time for us to go home and do some celebrating – privately.
But honestly, when I looked over at him as he reached for my hand
walking down the hall to the elevators, I realized that while I knew
most of this holiday nonsense was utter bullshit, there was one thing
that wasn't – I was thankful for him, for his affection, for
this fucked up relationship of ours. He had changed my life, offered
me a sense of humanity, and he was the best present I could've ever
received. ~ * ~ |
