Site hosted by Build your free website today!

Captive Heart


Duo listened to the various servos and actuators slowly power down as the lights across Deathscythe's readouts winked off one by one. Finally, he was left with nothing more than a single glowing green cursor in the upper left hand of his main view screen, and his partner slipped off into sleep.

"G'night, buddy. See ya next time Oz needs an attitude adjustment," the braided pilot said, pushing the screen out of the way as the cockpit popped open with a hiss.

Long habit reminded him to reach behind him to catch the end of his braid up in one hand as he swung his body out of the reclined Gundam. He'd learned long ago the penalty for not keeping the chestnut hair from getting caught on any of the myriad of knobs, buttons, levers, and other odd protuberances one usually found in an average Mobile Suit cockpit. With his other hand, he sealed and locked the hatch back in place, and then slid down the massive black Gundanium chest to the ground below.

"Now, for your blanket, old buddy. Wouldn't want you to get cold," he spoke to the quiet night air, a customary grin on his features.

The next few minutes were spent carefully draping camouflage netting over the huge machine, in the off chance that Oz might send surveillance planes anywhere into the area. What the dense tree cover didn't hide, the net would, thusly ensuring Deathscythe's safety from prying eyes.

With his partner safely stowed and hidden, Duo turned towards the distant safe house and walked off, whistling the latest pop song that had gotten stuck in his head. The night was slightly cool, but clear, with millions of stars twinkling above, and a sliver of the moon, like scythe, hanging in the north. He loved to look at the moon. From so far away, it was mysterious and romantic, like a dream waiting to be tamed.

"Ya know, I never did find out if he ever looks at the moon," he mused softly to himself.

Of course, Duo hadn't really had much of a chance to discover anything new about his taciturn human partner, and lover, if even for that one night only. He didn't know what he'd expected when he'd freed Heero from the Gundanium cuffs the morning after Duo's conquest of the Japanese pilot. He had, however, been expecting *some* sort of reaction.

Once freed, Heero had quickly and efficiently dressed in the clothing Duo had offered him, and, without speaking a single word, left without a backward glance. In the week and a half since then, either Heero or Duo had been away at missions, preventing the braided man from seeing Heero, or gauging the Japanese pilot's ire. Duo was beginning to have the sinking feeling that, despite how much Heero seemed to have enjoyed that night, he may have just lost his best friend and partner.

His deep sigh of longing and regret covered the soft footfall on the path behind him. He was close enough to the safe house now, that he'd let his guard down; a mistake that would cost him dearly. He barely even had time to gasp out a strangled shout of surprise as something thick and dark that smelled strongly of leather and something cloying and sweet dropped over his head from behind. A pair of incredibly strong arms wrapped around his body and held him immobile, cradling him as the whole world went dark, and then drifted away into nothingness.

"It's getting late," Quatre said, his voice quavering a tiny bit as he tried to hide his anxiety, "Has anyone heard from Duo? He should have been back by now?"

Across the room, Wufei looked up from the book he was reading, a soft cough calling the blonde's attention to him.

"Yuy received another mission for the two of them this afternoon. He said they would most likely be gone for a day or two."

"Oh. He didn't take Wing, did he?"

Wufei shook his head, returning to his book, "It was some sort of surveillance mission. No Gundams."

"Ah. Well, I guess we'll see them both in a day or two," Quatre replied, satisfied as he turned away from the window and crept off in search of Trowa.

Jasmine and mint.

That was the first thing Duo's brain seized on as he felt himself slowly returning to consciousness. Jasmine and mint. Wherever he was, it smelled mutely of jasmine and mint, with the faintest trace of sandalwood musk. And deep under it all, loam, like a forest floor after the morning rain. Together, the scents wove a picture of deep woods, perched high atop a mountainside. For some reason, his imagination kept supplying him with the image of an ancient Buddhist temple, rather than a secluded cabin, which would have been his normal first guess. Of course, the jasmine and sandalwood might have had a great deal to do with that.

It wasn't until that moment that he realized why it was his imagination supplying him with images, rather than his eyes. Velveteen caressed his closed eyelids, pressing his lashes down to his cheeks, while satin edged the fabric, protecting his somewhat fair skin despite the tightness of the blindfold.

As he tried to open his mouth to demand an explanation for the sensory deprivation, he discovered that the blindfold wasn't the only thing firmly wrapped around his head. A pair of straps ran from the ball gag in his mouth to the back of his head, holding it firmly in place, and preventing him from speaking. The only sound he succeeded in producing was an indistinct, muffled groan.

Instinctively, he tried to reach up and remove the offending props, unsurprised when he found that, not only couldn't he move his hands or arms, he couldn't move most of his body. A soft cushion placed under the small of his back protected his tailbone from the bench he was apparently bent over backwards. His arms were pulled so tightly behind him that each hand almost cupped the opposite elbow. Smooth, almost cool, ropes wound precisely around each forearm several times, distributing the strain and strengthening their hold. From his arms, another set of ropes stretched up to attach to the wide collar, leather by the feel of it, fastened securely around his throat.

From the front, another webbing of those smooth ropes cris-crossed his chest, pressing firmly into his flesh, tantalizingly near his nipples, sensitizing them, without offering any sort of release. From what he could feel, the ropes had been intricately woven, not haphazardly strung, about his torso, imprisoning him, and torturing him with their sleek touch. It would have been a labor of firm concentration and some time to accomplish.

From his lower torso, the ropes wound around to the small of his back, crossing above the round globes of his rear, to bind him down tight to the bench. His thighs arched not quite painfully out, away from the edge of the bench, where they were wrapped with another precise coil of the same smooth rope, which was in turn tied firmly to the legs of the bench. His lower legs were folded under him, feet pointing back towards the top of his head, with ankles likewise carefully bound. An experimental flexing of his calves warned him that the roped encircling his ankles were connected by a tight line to the ropes wrapped firmly at his elbows.

"Silk really isn't the best material to make rope out of for this sort of thing. It's too slick. The knots don't hold tightly if you don't tie them right," a deadly calm voice commented from behind him, "There's something about the feel of it against skin, though..."

Duo shivered as Heero's voice trailed off into a menacing purr. Further down on his body, Duo felt his cock twitch as it awoke at the sound of violent control in the Japanese pilot's voice.

As if in slow motion, Duo came to realize several things: he'd never heard that note of anticipation in his partner's voice before. Said tone of voice was turning him on like nothing else he'd ever heard. He was bound, blind, mute, and helpless.

And he was naked as the day he was born.

A soft creak of well worn leather flexing and contracting drifted over to Duo from the direction of Heero's voice.

"You should have been more careful. It was easy to kidnap you," Heero admonished as he approached, his voice steadily growing louder.

Pride alone made Duo pull at the bindings holding him immobile, trying to find his braid and the useful escape tools he normally kept there. Heero noticed the squirm and chuckled darkly.

"Don't bother trying to find your toys. I took the liberty of unbraiding your hair. Wouldn't want you to skip out before the main course."

Duo swallowed hard behind the gag, settling back against the bench as he tried to will his heart to slow down a little. He had no illusions as to what the "main course" was: Rack of Duo, rare.

Duo swallowed back a slight gasp as the sudden displacement of air beside his head signaled the arrival of a warm body, crouching down to his level.

"I really should thank you," Heero murmured from inches away, "I had no idea you were into... experimentation until last week. Simplified things so much."

Duo was glad that the room was so warm, otherwise, he would have been shivering with cold when the sudden sheen of sweat broke out over his body. He felt every muscle in his body suddenly go rock hard as a single finger slowly traced a bead of sweat dripping from his cheek to his jaw, before it slipped down his throat. He listened as the soft leather creaked again right beside him, and then the finger was replaced by a warm mouth, lapping at the bead of perspiration.

"I never would have known how delicious you were..." Heero murmured against his pulse, his breath puffing gently across Duo's flushed skin.

He couldn't halt the moan that wormed its way up his throat and past the gag. He could almost picture Heero crouched beside him, his head cocked in fascination as he peered at Duo's helpless form. The way his spiky, unruly brown hair always draped so artfully in front of his piercing prussian eyes, shadowing his innermost thoughts from even prying sorts like Duo. That still tenseness to his muscles as he knelt beside him, as if he would take flight at any second, as if he'd already taken flight, without twitching a single muscle fiber.

The tongue was back, lapping at his pulse again, choking off his breath as teeth suddenly joined the tongue, nipping hard enough to leave small red welts. Then, as quickly as he'd begun, Heero halted, rushing upwards to his feet again. He'd pressed forward as he stood, grazing Duo's bare shoulder with his own bare chest, and then the whispering kiss of the leather girding his legs.

Another startled moan leapt past the gag; he'd felt that straining hardness trapped within the leather pants.

Duo listened intently, trying to follow Heero as he moved away. The blindfold was wearing at him, even more so than the gag. Even bound, had he had sight, he would not have felt so utterly helpless as he did then. His eyes, he was told, were very expressive, and, besides being able to see, he would have been able to communicate with Heero, to convey some of the desperate lust pervading him, to beg for... anything. All that was left to him now were the quiet whimpers and guttural moans he might be able to force past the ball constricting his mouth.

"Probably not the reaction you were expecting from me, ne?"

He had to concentrate on stifling the cough of fear as Heero whispered that directly into his opposite ear. He hadn't even heard him approach, hadn't felt him.

"I wonder... What were you expecting?" Heero mused quietly.

Something soft, yet with a thin, firm edge, caressed the skin along his ribs. It took his overloading brain a moment to attach the name "feather" to the object as it traced along his skin, darting gently over the webbing of ropes.

"There were probably more conventional ways of informing me of your interest," Heero scolded darkly.

The feather traveled up, teasing the edges of his pecs, swirling closer and closer to the over-sensitized nubbin of flesh crowning the right side of his chest. With a mad little flip, the very edge of the feather, the tip of the vane, flicked negligently over the nipple, driving the breath from Duo's lungs.

"Although, very few that would have been as fun..."

Duo felt his body arch upwards, pulling against the ropes, as Heero's hot breath washed over that tortured nub of flesh. So close... so very close... His voice caught in his throat as Heero's tongue darted out, lapping playfully.

"Definitely owe you a debt of gratitude..." his captor murmured, before taking Duo's nipple between his teeth and worrying it.

He felt his fingernails dig into his elbows, just parting the skin, as he struggled to maintain his tenuous grip on reality. While Heero nibbled tormentingly along his right side, the feather continued its journey to the left. Without warning, the feather was discarded, dropped upon his midriff and forgotten, leaving Heero's hand free to pinch and flick the sensitive skin the way his mouth was. After a long moment, Heero pulled away, abandoning him, and Duo found he could once again breathe.

"Sometimes, the ancient ways are best," Heero commented, "Although, you were probably wise in using Gundanium rather than silk."

The feather was snatched up, the tip running lightly down his chest, to his abdomen, where it circled his navel a few times.

"Silk wouldn't have lasted more than a few moments, at best..."

The trailing edge of the feather, the softer side, rolled against his thigh, making the muscle quiver below the flushed skin. He felt his cock harden another impossible notch at the proximity of the touch.

"Liked that, ne?" Heero chuckled again, his voice dropping almost another octave, "How about this?"

Even forewarned, Duo couldn't stave off the tortured moan that forced its way past the gag as the feather trailed lightly up the underside of his cock. The prickly tip of the vane stroked the slit, collecting the moisture there, before slipping over the top and down the upper side of the engorged flesh.

A soft sound caught his attention with a stab of triumph. Heero groaned quietly, apparently enthralled by the sight of Duo straining into that oh so brief touch.

Duo shuddered as he heard that soft creak of leather again, and then felt Heero's bare torso press between his own bare thighs.

"I want you," the Japanese pilot growled, stealing Duo's breath again.

Firm hands traced up Duo's legs to grip just above the slim hips. He could feel Heero shifting his weight, the leather singing into the silence, as Heero leaned forward. One moment, Duo lay bound on earth, the next, he was spiraling into the void as Heero's mouth engulfed him in one, hard swallow.

He came almost immediately, so on edge was he, and he could feel Heero' s mouth working him skillfully to milk every last drop from him. Even behind the blindfold, it seemed like the entire universe exploded into sparks of lightning and fire. The chorus of his own heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out all other sounds, except for the counterpoint of his own harsh panting. Everything narrowed down into that one, brilliant moment, which seemed to carry on forever, dragging him along into a maelstrom of pure, unadulterated, sensory overload.

He must have actually passed out for a moment, because there was no transition, it seemed between nirvana and solitude. Suddenly, Heero was gone, and a faint chill was stealing over his body. He groaned softly, feeling his muscles starting to protest the treatment they'd been receiving.

"Awake again?" Heero whispered from beside him, "My captive."

Duo felt his heart skip a beat. A soothing hand cradled his cheek carefully, as if he were made of spun glass and sunlight.

"It's like you woke something up inside me," the Japanese pilot murmured, leaning in to nuzzle the soft skin at Duo's throat.

Leather creaked again, and he felt the heat radiating off of Heero's bare chest as the prussian-eyed youth loomed over him. That heat wreathed his cock briefly before Heero's hand closed around the firming flesh.

"Like... Now that I've tasted you... I can't get enough..."

The tongue was back, lapping at the fresh sheen of sweat starting to pop up, teasing the hollow of his jaw. The hand on his shaft loosened, trailing down to cup the sack below for a moment, before continuing on its journey to tease at the puckered entrance hidden below.

The other hand buried itself in the loose fall of his hair that was spilling down the back of the bench. Nimble fingers gently worked their way through the silken strands to his scalp, dancing, massaging expertly, until he wanted to scream or purr or anything, just to make sure that it never ended.

"I want..." Heero paused, taking in a great, shuddering breath.

The fingers in his hair pulled back, fumbling down near the nape of his neck for a moment. He could feel them working at some fastening for a moment, and then the straps across his cheeks, the ones holding the gag in, suddenly came loose with a small pop.

That hand buried itself back in his hair, while the other reached up, abandoning his nether regions, to carefully remove the ball gag from his mouth. He remained silent, working the stiffness out of his jaw, as Heero discarded the gag with a rough toss.

"I want to taste you," Heero said, looming over him again to seize Duo' s mouth in a demanding, probing kiss.

He greedily sucked at Heero's tongue, inviting, no... begging. The hand returned to toying with his shaft, stoking the fire within him once again. Duo gave up breath, gave up thought, would have given up life itself, if it had been asked of him, to melt into that fierce kiss. When finally neither could go without breath any longer, Heero broke away with a hiss.

"Not enough..." he growled, pulling his hand away from Duo's scalp.

"Wha-" Duo started to speak, but was silenced by a single fingertip on his parted lips.

"What was removed, can be replaced," Heero warned in a low purr.

Duo remained silent as Heero stood, another of those startling rushes of movement. The leather creaked again, shifted, twisted. Duo could hear as the clinging garment was quickly removed, sliding to the floor to land with an almost inaudible whap. The still air whispered over Heero's skin as he padded across the room, returning a few moments later. Duo felt his partner kneel once again between his spread thighs, pressing up to lean over him and nuzzle the soft skin of his hip. He tried to stifle the shocked cry of need as he felt Heero's hair brush against his cock, but the strange sensation caught him off guard, wringing his voice from him against his will.

Heero pulled away; Duo cringed inwardly, imagining the Japanese youth retrieving the gag once again to punish him for his slip. He was totally unprepared for the slick finger that penetrated him without warning. Once again, a harsh cry erupted from him, and his whole body rocked against the invading digit, as far as he could strain against the ropes. Heero's fist wrapped around his cock again, distracting him as a second, and then a third finger were added, slowly stretching him until he felt he would splinter into a thousand wisps and fly away on the scented breeze.

"Now..." Heero growled, removing both hands and shifting again.

Firm fingers dug into his hips as Heero's shaft nudged his entrance. Without preamble, Heero sheathed himself in Duo's tight heat, pushing to the root in one maddening thrust.

Duo didn't even try to hold in the harsh shout as he was filled. Heero' s own cry drowned him out anyway, the two voices melding into a single song of need. Heero held himself absolutely still, waiting for Duo to relax against him, unwilling to harm him, now that they had finally found completion in each other. As the braided youth relaxed, Heero withdrew slowly, so maddeningly slowly that Duo was certain he'd die, unfulfilled. When only the tip of Heero's cock remained trapped within the bound pilot, Heero thrust back in, his hips snapping forward. Once again, Duo felt his hands clench his elbows so tightly that his nails broke the skin. One odd corner or his brain noted the tickle of blood and perspiration slipping down his skin to drop off and likely puddle on the floor. The rest of his brain was too busy concentrating on the steadily increasing rhythm Heero was creating, each almost savage thrust hitting something within him that wrung guttural moans from him and threatened to set his whole body on fire.

Once more, he could feel a wave, like the storm surge of an impending hurricane, rushing towards him, threatening to engulf him. Just barely out of reach, it paralleled his consciousness, teasing him with its proximity, driving him insane. Just when he thought he would disintegrate from the torment of it, Heero's hand wrapped around his throbbing shaft, pumping it in time with his own thrusts.

The wave rushed in, overtaking him in the blink of an eye, and shattering his world in an explosion of light and dark and matter and sound. Dimly, he was aware when Heero came with a hoarse shout, bathing his sheath in the Japanese youth's essence, and then, even that sensation floated away into the void swamping his consciousness.

Jasmine and mint.

His brain clutched the scents like lifelines, using them to pull himself out of the hazy stupor of satiation he was drifting in. Jasmine and mint. Gunpowder, leather, and sweat. He smiled muzzily; Heero always smelled like gunpowder and sweat, even right out of the shower. It was one of the sexiest scents Duo knew.

A warm hand gently brushed his bangs out of his face, hesitating over his closed eyes with a feather light tough on each lid. Duo unconsciously leaned up into that so soft touch. He stretched a little languidly, his limbs surprisingly loose and relaxed, despite the workout they'd gotten, even bound as they had been.

Bound as they had been?

His eyes popped open, meeting Heero's almost hesitant cobalt gaze, as the other pilot cradled him on his chest. He couldn't stop the almost silly grin that lit up his face as he took in Heero's shy examination.

"Daijoubu?" he murmured quietly.

Duo closed his eyes again, settling down to nuzzle up against Heero once more.

"Perfect," he sighed, his free hand snaking up to toy with one of Heero's nipples absently.

Heero growled and batted the hand away, although playfully. Duo chuckled unrepentantly.

"It's not just sex, is it?" Heero asked, his voice small and uncertain.

"Do you want it to be just that?" Duo asked.

"Not really..."

"Good," he replied, shifting again, as if he would climb into Heero's skin as they cuddled together on the low futon, "'Cause I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

Heero's arms tightened around his shoulders.

"'Bout damned time you caught up, though," Duo said with a smile.

"Caught up?"

"Kidnapping the rest of me. You nabbed my heart a while back. The rest of me was getting lonely."

"That was corny," Heero sighed, although his arms didn't release their tight hold.

"Yeah, probably," Duo agreed unrepentantly.

"So what now?"

Duo considered this for a long moment before shrugging.

"Even the score, I guess," he answered with a wicked chuckle.


The braided pilot smiled to himself. Had that been a note of anticipation in Heero's voice?

"In that case, Duo... Do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Find a different kind of sedative... Phenobarbital gives me a headache."

The laugh bubbled out of him, and he leaned up to drop a kiss on the boy who'd caught his heart so very long ago.

"Mission accepted."

Return to Reiko-chan's Dirty Books