Notes: This fic was written after "All is Right in the World" but takes place before it, on the same night.
~*~*~*~*~*~
You laugh. Not your maniacal, adrenaline-fueled cackle, nor your dry, sardonic chuckle, but a genuine laugh that ripples up from your belly. I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard you laugh like this. It makes me hesitant to join you; I won't be able to hear you as well if I do, but I can't help it and I give in. Our voices ring off the walls, bouncing and filling the space that I've called home since I stopped thinking of myself as a soldier.
Like the momentary silences that overtake a crowd, our laughter dies away and we're caught in an eye-to-eye. Since you got here, we've been sitting together on the floor, facing each other with our legs crossed and our knees almost touching, but things didn't feel so close until now. The moment has become intimate. Our gasping laughter has turned to nervous erratic breathing. What are you thinking? What are you feeling? You've always been difficult to read. Do you want what I want?
I'm too scared to say a thing. I'm too scared to do anything...except leave.
I fly out the door, and I'm down the stairs, out the building, and into my car before I can even think about what I've just done. The miles blur by, as forgettable and regrettable as the faces of all the men I've killed.
I need some time to think, so I pull into a mini-market parking lot. The expanse of asphalt is deserted and lonely. I stare at my hands as they wrap around the steering wheel. I stare at my white knuckles. I stare at the lump on my thumb where the bone didn't heal properly. I stare at the tiny crisscrossing scars, and I stare at the trembling that I can't stop no matter how hard I grip the fake leather cover. A siren in the distance jolts me into motion; I grab my keys from the ignition and get out of the confines of the car.
_-_
Along with a bottle of beer, I buy myself a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. I find myself a spot along the front wall and sit down, leaning my back against the cool brick as if somehow I can borrow its strength to stay my quaking fingers. Half the bottle is gone in seconds, and I hear the click-clack of high heels approaching me.
A tired looking woman sits down next to me without invitation. "Spare one?" she asks.
"I don't know why I bought them, " I say as I tear off the thin film of cellophane from the red and white box. "I don't even smoke." I flip the top and shake the pack as I hold it out to her. The woman pulls the offered cigarette out with her thumb and forefinger and hangs it on her lower lip.
"What's your name?" she asks as I snap open my new lighter and hold the wavering flame to her lips. The end of the cigarette flares into life, and I notice how her lipstick is faded and feathers out along the tiny cracks that ring her mouth.
"Duo," I say and shake out a cigarette for myself. I don't put it to my mouth. I just twist it between my fingers and wait for the prospect of smoking it to become appealing. The woman takes it, and then grabs the rest of the pack from me.
"Don't start smoking �cause you've had a bad day," she says and tucks my newly bought cigarettes away in her purse.
"Hey!" I protest half-heartedly.
"What are you doing here, kid? You look like you just lost your best friend."
"I did," I tell her. The woman blows smoke out her nose and makes a noise that makes it obvious that she's waiting for me to continue.
"I ran out on him...on the one person I love." It's the first time I've ever admitted it out loud, even if it is to a stranger. Love. It's amazing how such a little word scares the daylights out of me.
"So what are you doing here?" she repeats and fixes an eye on me. I look away in embarrassment. I know what she means, but I try to convince myself that things are never that simple.
"I can't go back," I say and swirl my bottle around; the liquid inside splashes and foams. I'm staring at the green glass, but I feel the woman's eyes on me, burning like the tobacco that's rapidly turning to ash between her wrinkled lips.
"Sure you can," she tells me, and I look up in time to see her pull the cigarette from her lips and grind the spent butt into the ground.
"But what if I'm rejected?" The excuse sounds stupid as I say it.
The woman kisses me on the forehead with a throaty chuckle and picks herself up off the ground. "Then you come find me and I'll give you your Marlboros back."
I smirk as she click-clacks away and spin my new lighter around in my fingers. I chose it because it had a little grinning red devil on the front. The imp looks fearless. I faced an army of mobile suits wearing that same look. I tap my finger on the lighter and suck a breath in fast enough it makes my teeth ache. The rest of my beer is left forgotten on the cement as I stuff the lighter in my pocket and head back to my car.
I drive. Fast.
I roll down all the windows and bits of hair tug loose from my braid. The wind doesn't do anything to cool the prickly heat that has taken the place of my skin. A look at the dashboard tells me I'm driving at twice the speed as when I left, but it feels like it's taking twice as long to get back.
When I return, you're outside, standing at the top of my apartment building's stone steps with your arms crossed. Are you waiting for me, or waiting for a cab? Does it really matter?
I don't waste time. I run and take the steps two at a time. You meet me halfway.
We pull each other into one and I hold you like I always wanted to, wrapping my arms as far around you as I can. You're hugging me just as tightly, fingers digging into my back hard enough to bruise. I press my cheek against yours, and the coolness of your face does everything the wind couldn't.
My head feels clear and the world comes into focus with an almost painful clarity. It's as if I can feel/hear/see everything at once, like your heartbeat against my chest, so powerful and even. Mine is hammering wildly against my ribs, sometimes stopping entirely for so long that I'm afraid I'm going to drop dead right here at your feet before I can say what I want. Everything remains trapped in my throat with my traitorous, immobile tongue as guard.
You pull back and it's then that the words spill out, tripping over one another in their rush to get from my mouth to your ear. "I want you. I need you."
My tongue still refuses to let the last trio of words escape, but that doesn't mean that I feel any less exposed. I'm naked and vulnerable in the intensity of your gaze.
"I know," you say, and then your fingers are on the back of my skull and pulling me to you for a kiss. It isn't tender. It isn't perfect. We bump teeth more than once, but the important thing is that it's your mouth, and my mouth, and our tongues.
"I love you, Heero," I finally manage to confess between kisses. You breathe in my words and put your forehead to mind long enough to return the declaration.
"Let's go upstairs," you say, and I float up the steps behind you.
_-_
We're not even through the door to my apartment and we're shedding clothes and shoes like they're toxic. I hiss with frustration as the collar of my undershirt refuses to unzip. You put your lips to my ear and say in a low, calm voice, "Let me."
The stubborn zipper yields to your slender fingers. You scratch your nails down my chest and pinch my shirt to untuck it. I lift my arms to let you slide it off my body. You toss it away somewhere, but I'm too busy enjoying your tongue flicking at my nipple to care about where it landed or whatever it was that broke when it did.
I've got my hand down the open fly of your jeans and you throw your head back when my fingers find what they're searching for. I dip my head and nibble the ridge of your collarbone as I pull your cock up from where it was trapped against your thigh. I tug and tease until you're as hard as I am. My thumb spreads around the precum welling at the tip of your erection, and a moan escapes your lips like smoke.
My mouth makes its way to your shoulder, and I run my tongue wide down along the edge of your armpit. I pause briefly at the curve of your ribs, and then I'm on my knees and clawing your pants down.
As soon as I take you into my mouth, your hands are in my hair. I close my eyes and work my tongue, loving the taste of you and learning by way of twitches and gasps what it is you enjoy. You place a warning hand on my shoulder and try to step back. I slip an arm around your legs and bar your retreat. My mouth makes wet sounds as I devour as much of you as I can, as rapidly as I can. All too soon, you tense up and your cock spits hot come against the back of my throat.
I swallow nearly all of it and rock back on my heels. I look up and you urge me to my feet with a tug of my braid. I stand and wipe my chin with the back of my hand. Keeping your eyes on mine, you capture my wrist and bring my hand to your mouth to lick it clean. You draw me close and I shiver. I curse too because my pants are still on, and I can't delight in the feeling of pressing my thighs naked against yours.
"Genetic enhancement for endurance," you say, answering the question that must be plain on my face. I shake my head in amazement and reach down to feel the fresh erection that my hip had already discovered. You laugh for the second time tonight. This laugh I've never heard before. It's softness, sensuality, and wickedness all rolled into one. It drives me wild.
I attack your neck, and you explore my body with the rough palms of your hands. "Bed," I manage to gasp out eventually and push you in the right direction.
"Duo," you say my name hungrily as you step backwards and cross the threshold into my bedroom.
We don't make it to the bed.
We pull each other to the carpet and I manage to snag a familiar bottle from atop my bedside table along the way. I lift a foot so you can tug one leg of my pants off and smear myself, and then you, with a generous amount of stringy lube. I shove the bottle into a drawer, then collapse on my back and offer myself to you.
You kneel between my thighs and crook a finger inside me, slipping it in and out while your thumb rubs circles beneath my balls. I roll my hips eagerly, wanting more than just your finger inside me. When you deem me ready, you lower your weight to rest on one palm and guide your cock to the entrance to my body. I hook my ankles around your calves and lift myself up, forcing you into me.
You drop down onto your elbows and tongue my earlobe as you move inside me slowly. It takes all my willpower not to scream, and curse, and buck my hips. I don't want it slow. We have the rest of our lives to take it slow.
"Faster," I hiss.
You respond with that laugh again and a few quick playful thrusts. I hook my arms around your back and grip your shoulders, leverage to lift myself against you.
"Determined, aren't you?" you say. Of course, I am. When I nod, you give me what I want.
The force of you slamming into me lifts my ass into the air and grates my back against the carpet. I scream when you hit my prostate, and I curse when you bite my neck. Our bodies become slick with perspiration. Wet with sweat and precum, my cock slides against the taut muscles of your stomach. I can't take much more, and I try to tell you in a garbled sentence that would have been, "Shit. God. Heero, you're gonna make-. Fuck. I'm gonna- Oh Hell yeah," if you could decipher it.
My body explodes and ropes of come stream out to smear across my chest. I know my fingernails are digging deep into your shoulders, but by the noises you're making, I don't think you care.
You push back, settling on your knees and pull me up with you, cradling me as you surrender yourself to pleasure. I'm content in your arms as you slide me along your lap and twine your tongue with mine. A sound halfway between a purr and a growl rumbles in your throat and you draw my lower lip between your teeth.
You release my lip as you find your release, and you murmur my name over and over as my body accepts your gift.
When we're both no longer panting and the high of orgasm wanes, you lower me back down. I sprawl as you slip out of my body and fall into a similar position beside me. Before sleep can catch me, I remember to kick the tangled mass of my pants off my ankle. The lighter I bought bounces out of the pocket and a little smile greets me in the moonlight.
I smile back, and I search out your hand to tangle our fingers together. You squeeze my hand and my eyelids grow heavy.
