"Interrupted"

Written By: Zazu

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, nor do I own the characters. I have borrowed them here for some fun and creativity, and this is not for profit. I do, however, own the plot mentioned here, and any instances that you may find similar to real life events are purely a coincidence. All of the characters depicted in this story are adults.

Rating: NC-17

Notes: AU. Written for Sharon.

Written: September 30, 2007

Pairings: 1x2 2x2

"Interrupted"

Duo dropped his bag and set his camera carefully onto his desk before flopping down onto his bed. An arm was flung over his eyes before he sighed.

He had just gone to check out basketball practice; he had needed to take a few pictures and do a write up. At the second practice this week, he would actually interview the captain and maybe one or two of the team members. Then he would be able to submit his article to the college paper.

It had been a rigorous workout just watched the team warm up. Duo himself enjoyed sports and he had been on school teams in high school, but he had slacked off for the last couple of years. Watching the team brought memories of aching muscles.

But currently, he was suffering a different kind of ache.

Number Twelve on the team had caught his eye. Not as tall as the majority of the team, but quick on his feet, and very precise with his work. The way his body moved as he sprinted back and forth on the court during suicides had caught Duo's attention, particularly when the cobalt blue eyes had turned to him.

When their eyes had met, Duo had felt both hot and cold. Hot because the gaze was so intense, cold because the face was impassive.

It hadn¡¦t taken long for the team to start practicing lay-ups and Duo had found himself watching Number Twelve, with his ears tuned to any conversation that might prove interesting, as well as the shouts of the coach and captain of the team.

By the time they had gotten to practicing two on two, Duo had found his mind, and certain parts of his anatomy, focusing completely on Number Twelve. The messy hair was a little darker than it was earlier; Duo knew this was from sweat. He had watched the way the cobalt eyes had darted here and there, almost as if calculating where to go, what the best course of action was.

When the basketball had ended up in the possession of the team member that Number Twelve happened to be marking, Duo had found himself wishing that he¡¦d joined the basketball team just to feel the heat of the body bent close over his back. He'd hated it before, having someone so close, sweaty and huffing over him, but somehow he felt that under these circumstances, he wouldn't have minded.

He'd forced himself to pay attention to other members of the team, noting in particular a few others who stood out among the rest ¡V the one who shouted commands, the tallest one, the captain and the coach. But still, his eyes had drifted back to Number Twelve and he had shifted as he had raised his camera and to take several shots.

He had watched another team member cop a feel, hand passing in front of Number Twelve's crotch disguised as an attempt to steal the ball; Number Twelve had simply spun out of the way and done another lay-up, the basketball swishing through the net.

He'd stayed not much longer after the team split up to practice; he would see the end next time before he did the individual interviews. Right then, he had a problem to take care of.

He grunted as he lifted his head, glaring at what was between his legs. "Can't control yourself, can you?" he huffed. The pressure against the front of his jeans didn't ease; in fact, it had built up as he'd reflected on the last hour or so at the courts. A hand drifted down and a finger teased the bulge; Duo bit his lip as his head fell back again. Hands easily freed his erection and his hips lifted as he pushed his jeans lower and out of the way before he kicked them off. Then, one hand drifted up to cover his eyes as the other lazily played with his erection.

There was a knock on his door. "Duo?"

Duo sighed. "Yes, Quatre?"

"You up for dinner?"

Up, but not for dinner. "Not right now; I ate not too long ago. You go ahead."

There was no answer; perhaps Quatre had left? Or maybe Duo had missed it. His hand left his eyes and slid under his shirt to play with his nipples, pinching and pulling a little before he passed his hands over the hardened nubs several times.

How did the ball feel when Number Twelve's hand caressed the orange surface, fingers shifting for a better grip as he waited to shoot the ball?

Duo's hand drifted lower to palm and rub his own balls, rolling them a little before he caressed the inside of his own thigh. Pressing his erection upwards and trapping it between his hand and stomach, Duo shifted and moved his hips lazily, rubbing his hand up and down the length. Would Number Twelve's hands be just rough or also calloused from playing with the ball so much?

There was another knock. Duo didn't answer, and it returned.

"Yes, Quatre?" he sighed in exasperation.

"I'm heading out to get dinner. I can't reach Trowa. If he drops by, tell him where to get the key and that I'll be back shortly."

"Doesn't he already know where the key is?" Duo grunted as he found a more comfortable place on the bed and spread his own legs, hips still moving a little before he teased the slit at the head of his cock.

"The plant? Derek kicked it over and broke it, remember? I haven't had the chance to tell Trowa where to get the key."

"All right, I'll let him know."

"Thanks!"

Duo turned his attention back to his current task at hand. Or in hand. He began to tug, passing one hand and then the other from the base of his length up to the top, moaning quietly at the sensations before he reversed the motions, wondering if Number Twelve's very well-toned ass would be tight. With that thought, he tightened his own grasp a little and bit his lip.

Or perhaps...Number Twelve preferred to top. Duo didn't think he'd mind feeling that toned body pressed along his front, or his back for that matter. His hand slid lower, fingers wet with his precum before he prodded his own entrance and slowly began to work a finger in.

The head of his cock was wet and sensitive so he let his fingers play at it, rubbing and tapping a little, teasing himself as he wondered whether Number Twelve's mouth, open and panting, would be hot and wet around his cock. He groaned as the image of the cobalt eyes appeared behind his eyelids.

A knock on the door had him growling with frustration. "Yes?" he snapped.

"Duo? Have you see Quatre?" It was Trowa.

"He went to get dinner. Let yourself in." Duo had to bite his lip when his finger grazed his prostate, his leg twitching at the sensation.

"Where's the key?" Trowa asked. "The plant isn't there anymore."

"Key?" Duo asked. Mm, if only Number Twelve could fit where his finger was, like a key to a lock. He wouldn't mind though, if the 'key' had to jiggle and insert itself a couple of times before functioning.

"The key to his room," Trowa answered patiently. "So I can get in?"

Duo cursed. "Check the top of the door frame."

There was a moment of silence and Duo kicked at his blankets bunched at his feet. Then, he palmed his balls as he worked the finger in and out a little more rapidly, fisting his own cock quickly. He was close.

"Not there."

Duo had to remove his own hands from his body to delay his orgasm as he tried to think of where the key was.

"Duo?"

"The top of my door." Duo's hands returned to his body and he gripped himself a little harder, his finger thrusting into his own body again.

There was a scratching sound before Trowa spoke again. "Got it. Thank you."

"No problem!" Duo managed before he gasped, trying to thrust into his own fist while pushing down on his finger.

Another knock.

"What is it?"

"Wrong key," Trowa sounded amused. "How many keys do you keep for this floor?"

Duo cursed to himself. "There should be two up there!"

Trowa chuckled. "Thanks, Duo."

Duo didn't answer as he slid a second finger into himself. He groaned as quietly as he could, hand and fingers flexing for a moment.

Another knock. Duo was about to kill someone.

"Trowa if that's you again-"

"Sorry, I'm moving in next door and was told a Duo Maxwell would have my key."

Duo cursed. No one, he decided, should be allowed to knock his door. Barring that, perhaps he shouldn't be playing around with himself at this time of the day. But damn it he was horny and he'd touch himself whenever he wanted to!

"Duo seems to be busy with something," Trowa answered. "Try the key on top of his door."

"Thank you. My name is Heero Yuy."

"Trowa Barton," Trowa said. "But I don't stay in this dorm. Just visiting. You...wouldn't by any chance be on the basketball team, would you?"

Duo froze.

"Actually, I am. Why?"

Oh God. Someone from the basketball team was moving in next door?!

"My sister studying at another university was at a basketball game and mentioned someone with blue eyes on our basketball team. I just hazarded a guess. She said you were good; I didn't make that game though."

"I'm not the only one with blue eyes," the voice answered. Duo felt a little disappointed but he had to admit that blue eyes were not exactly uncommon. Although, the specific shade of blue eyes that Number Twelve had...

"Sorry," Trowa laughed. "She mentioned that it was the player with the number twelve jersey. That you?"

A surprised sound. "Yes, that's me."

A sudden image of Number Twelve, no, Heero Yuy, doing push ups, came unbidden to Duo's mind. He could almost imagine himself underneath that body, the intense gaze trained on him. Now that he'd heard Heero's voice, his mind easily supplied him with a single word spoken with that voice.

Duo...

Duo moaned as the first stream of cum left his cock and landed on his belly; the second landed on his chest as he prodded his own prostate.

"Duo, are you having problems with your camera again? Or is it the physics course you're taking??" Trowa asked.

"Um, physics!" Duo answered quickly as he tore off his shirt and wiped himself down quickly.

"I'm a physics minor...if you want some help?"

Duo managed to tuck himself in and he zipped himself up before patting himself down again, making sure he was all right and decent. Grabbing the small basin that held his bathroom essentials, he opened the door. "You serious? Actually I want to grab a shower first. Maybe you can help me after?"

"I just finished basketball practice, actually, and someone had brought my stuff up so I needed the key. I need a shower too. Perhaps we can discuss your physics homework over dinner?" The cobalt blue eyes bore into Duo's and Duo swallowed hard.

"Not a problem!" He said, pulling the door to his room shut. "You know where the showers are, right?"

Heero nodded. "Just down the hall."

"All right, then I'll see you there. I mean here. After showering. Just...knock on my door. Or I'll knock on yours if you finish faster." Duo was babbling and he could feel heat creeping up his neck, heat very different than the one he'd just been playing in within the privacy of his room.

Trowa looked amused. "I'll leave you to it," he said before nodding and disappearing into Quatre's room.

Heero looked quizzical. "Weren't you...just at the courts?"

"Oh!" Duo fumbled for a moment with his basin, making a show of balancing what he was holding before he spoke again. "I'm Duo Maxwell, one of the sports journalists for the campus paper. I'd shake your hand but..." He shrugged a little.

Heero nodded. "Pleasure." There was a quirk of a grin before Heero turned to his door and unlocked it. "So I'll see you here in a while?"

"Sure thing!" Duo chimed before mentally smacking himself. Gods, he must still be on some sort of endorphin high.

"See you shortly," Heero said before entering his room and closing the door. Duo rushed off to the showers, sliding into the stall.

A couple of minutes later, someone else entered the empty shower room and he could hear another shower switch on a couple of stalls down.

He stared down at his own crotch and mentally cursed.

Heero was showering a few stalls away, body naked, water streaming down that toned and worked body...

Duo had a feeling that he'd have a bruised lip by the end of his shower...

and he'd probably finish his shower slower than Heero.

He grinned; he could use his long hair as an excuse for a longer shower. With that thought and easily-pictured images of Heero and his voice, Duo grasped his hardening shaft once more.

At least here he'd be less likely to be interrupted.

"Duo?"

Duo cursed and fumbled. "Uh, yes Heero?"

"I couldn't find my shampoo. Do you mind sharing? I can come and get it."

Duo shifted and grabbed the bottle before sticking his hand out. "Sure, grab it."

"Thanks." Heero took the bottle, then slid his hand into Duo's, gripping it firmly. "And here's the handshake. Nice to meet you, Duo Maxwell, sports journalist and my new neighbour." With that, Heero padded away.

Duo cursed as his mind easily translated the firm grip on his hand to a similar grip on his own hardness; he grasped himself again.

"By the way, Duo?"

"Yes?" Duo asked in a somewhat strangled voice. "Do you need bodywash too?" he joked lightly.

"Actually," Heero snorted. "I have your bodywash. May I have that shampoo?" Footsteps came closer again. Duo fumbled and grabbed the other bottle, making sure it was the shampoo before handing it out.

"Here you go!"

"Thank you," Heero said before taking the bottle. "I hope you don't mind that I'll smell exactly like you when we come out of the showers."

Duo thought to himself that he didn't mind coming anywhere outside of the showers so long as the 'we' was Heero and him.

"Not a problem, Heero," he answered with a grin as he braced himself under the spray. "Anything else?"

"No. Sorry for interrupting your shower."

As Heero walked away, Duo sighed; finally, peace. Peace to finish his shower...and other activities.

"Duo?"

Duo cursed mentally. "Yes, Quatre?"

"I left your physics textbook just inside your door."

Duo groaned.

-End-

 

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