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What Heero's REALLY Been Typing

Rhiannon

 


Duo tossed and turned restlessly on his bunk, bored completely out of his mind.  Their mission was at a standstill, with OZ lying low, so he had nothing to blow up, and he’d perused his meager collection of manga (as yet unconfiscated by the Dean) enough to memorize it all.  Two of his primary means of amusement therefore unavailable to him, that left just one thing.

Talking.

To Heero.

Ha! Mission: Impossible!

For some reason, the talkative pilot of Deathscythe just kept getting paired up with Heero for missions.  Duo still wasn’t sure if having to spend so much time alone with the silent and antisocial, yet infernally handsome, Japanese was a good thing or a bad thing.  On one hand, Duo hated not having anyone to talk to.  On the other hand, it was slowly but surely driving him mad to be able to gaze, and to imagine, yet never be able to reach out and touch… tell the other boy how he felt…

So near, and yet so far… baka!  Keep your hormones under control!

Still, it would be nice to have someone to - er, something to do.  Er, someone to talk to?  Whatever.

“Hey, Heero!” he called over to the form seated at the desk, hunched over the keyboard, typing madly away, utterly absorbed.  Briefly, Duo wondered why he even bothered to try to talk to his surly companion.  One usually got warmer responses from a wall.  Besides, it wasn’t like there was any way the Perfect Soldier could feel the way he did - he was so… masculine.  At any rate, he had Relena.  Perfection herself.  Beautiful, smart, well liked, Queen of the World… female.  Duo knew all the words for people like him.  Knew how Sister Helen and Father Maxwell would have felt about the way he’d turned out.  With regard to his… occupation… as well as his sexual preferences.

Disappointed.

“Hn.”

Duo resolutely shook himself out of the self-pity he’d been allowing himself to slip into, plastered a grin on his face, and seized upon the tiny opportunity Heero’d given him.  Hey, with Heero, you took what you could get!

“Watcha doin', Heero-chan?”

“Don’t call me that.”  The Prussian eyes did not so much as flicker from the screen. With a sigh, Duo heaved himself the bed and began to pace the tiny dorm room clad only in his favorite smiley face boxers.  Well, it was after lights out. And the lights were.  No one should come waltzing in on them. Hmm… too bad we’re not actually doing anything that it would be bad to get caught doing…

Even Duo could only stay awake for so long under such boring circumstances.  Jeez, he thought as he plunked back down on his bunk after near half an hour of fruitless pacing. Sometimes I think biology class is more interesting than time alone with Heero There is definitely something wrong with that, was his last conscious thought before slipping into a tortured sleep.

* * * * * * *

It was well past midnight when Heero finally saved his work and pushed his chair out from the desk.  He wryly reflected that he probably shouldn’t spend quite so much time sitting like that as he stretched out his cramped muscles with a quite moan.  He stripped off his self-imposed uniform of black spandex and green tanktop, having already exchanged it for the school’s uniform the instant class let out, and slid into the bunk across from his chatty companion.  The screensaver came on the computer screen, obscuring the recently typed text from view; Heero didn’t even notice, a measure of just how exhausted he truly was.  Normally, merely staying up a bit late would not be in the least bit taxing on Heero, but he wasn’t getting hardly any sleep of late.

Thoughts of Duo kept him awake at nights…

The young soldier took this rare moment with the longhaired pilot still, and also not in any position to notice his staring, to admire his deceptively gentle, beautiful features, his silky chestnut locks… his little pink toes poking out of his covers.

For a moment, Heero nearly reached out to cover up those toes, prevent them from becoming chilled - but then training kicked in, and as usual, Heero refrained from doing what his heart urged him to do.  Duo was tempting enough when he was fully clothed; Heero didn’t trust himself to touch the American like this.

Still, before he went to sleep, he tucked Duo’s unconscious erotic pose away in his mind for future writing material.

* * * * * * *

Unusually for him, Heero slept soundly for some time.  The clock flashed just after four a.m. when he awoke.

The room was not silent, as it should have been at that hour.  Duo tossed and turned in his bunk with restless dreams, and he was murmuring something underneath his breath.  It sounded like a name.  Knowing he wasn’t likely to get back to sleep tonight anyways, and curious in spite of himself, Heero stood and crossed the room to perch gingerly on the foot of Duo’s bed.

“Oh… yes!”  Duo moaned softly in his sleep.  He arched his back and dug his fingers into the sweat soaked sheets, and Heero smirked as he realized just what kind of dreams Duo was having.  Humor ebbed rather quickly, however, as longing set in.

“Ahhh…” Duo flipped over once more, long limbs and unbound hair dangling ominously off the side of the bed on which Heero sat.  The Japanese held stock-still, fearing the slightest movement would awaken the sleeping Death Angel.

“Mm…” the boy continued to purr, sounding as contented as the cat that ate the cream. Or… whatever. “Heero…”

“Nani?!” Heero yelped, startled.  The loud, sudden noise shook Duo out of his slumber, and he jumped, every bit as startled as Heero.  Unfortunately, his position on the bed had been so precarious that the movement sent him tumbling off the bed.  He landed hard on the floor with a heavy thump, bumping his head against the metal frame on the way down. He managed a single faint, “Itai,” before losing consciousness.

For a few moments, Heero stood above Duo, staring, in shocked silence.  Then he shook himself and bent over Duo’s still form to check for any injuries.  He pushed his surprise, his emotions, and his questions over Duo’s emotions aside for now; they would have to be dealt with, but now this was not the time.

His cursory examination revealed nothing more serious than a bruised shoulder, and although there was a slight goose-egg forming on Duo’s head, it wasn’t bad.  Heero suspected Duo’s fainting had been due more to being startled than head trauma.  Still, that was going to be painful if it wasn’t seen to.  It would probably be best to get some ice on it.

Since it didn’t look as though Duo was going to be going anywhere anytime soon, Heero picked up the other boy in his arms and gently placed him back on his own bed.  He was about to exit the room to go get an ice pack when something compelled him to turn back and tuck the covers up around Duo lovingly and to place a swift, fleeting kiss on his forehead.  With that, he hurried from the room.

* * * * * * *

Duo came to with a groan of pain.  He distinctly remembered falling out of his bed and landing hard on the floor - so what the hell was he doing tucked up cozily beneath his covers?!  “Aw, shit,” he mumbled, wondering just how much damage to his brain that implied.  Shaking his head once, vigorously, set off another fresh wash of pain, but it did clear his senses a little.

The events of minutes before seeped back to him, and he buried his head in his hands with another muffled curse.

No wonder Heero was gone.  He’d probably fled the room in disgust the very instant he’d gotten over the shock of Duo’s little… ah, slip of the tongue.  Well, Duo thought bitterly, I can hardly blame him.  Who in their right mind wouldn’t be disgusted?

Well then, that sure meant he wasn’t in his right mind.  Because despite it all, he still wanted Heero.

All of a sudden, getting out of this room, this room that felt so very much of Heero, and going for a very long walk to get his mixed up thoughts together, seemed like an excellent idea.  Getting caught wouldn’t have been much of a concern even if he wasn’t so distraught: you didn’t survive as an orphan on the L2 Colony without learning a trick or two about breaking and entering.  He pulled on his preferred raiment of all black, not really as good for skulking about in the shadows as, say, charcoal grey, but it would do.

Just about to exit the already open door, he noticed a green light flickering on Heero’s beloved laptop.  It had been left on.  Hope surged in Duo’s heart; Heero must not have left for good… maybe he could still salvage their friendship, at least.  Unable to resist the urge to do something kind and unnoticed for Heero, Duo crept over to the desk and prepared to shut down the mission assignments page when he froze dead in his tracks.

This was nothing even close to a mission assignment and coordinates page - it was the writing program, and it was a… story.  Heero writes stories?  Duo nearly choked in surprise.

He didn’t mean to read it, really, if Heero was writing something, that was private.  But the title caught his eyes…

Shadow Lover

Duo stopped.  What on earth?!  H-Heero was writing pornogra… er, erotic scenes?  Duo couldn’t believe it, and pressed on eagerly.

Duo stood clad in -

“Did he just say my name?” Duo wondered aloud.  Sure enough, the first words remained the same, even as he reread them.  In a shocked daze, he continued.

Duo stood clad in his black silk boxers, hovering over my shoulder, trying to see what I was working on.  His warm breath slid over my shoulder, making me shiver inside, while on the outside I struggled desperately to maintain my ever present sold veneer.  Just as I thought perhaps he would give up and leave me alone, he bent down, and, grinning mischievously, ruffled my hair.

That was the last straw!  He had been teasing and taunting me ever since we met.  Tonight had been no exception - and it had begun to wear upon me, having this violet-eyed beauty near me, and so seemingly willing, and yet being unable to do what I truly wanted.  I grabbed him by the braid and slammed him against the wall, murder in my eyes.  At least, I hoped it was murder, and not the lust coursing so strongly through my veins.

The sultry gamin-grin had not left his face.  “Heero,” he breathed, feigning shock, “wadaya wanna be mean for?”  And with that he planted his lips on mine.

If that kiss was meant to shock me into dropping my hold on him, it certainly fulfilled its purpose.  If it was meant to be chaste, or brotherly, or even just a joke, it fell somewhat short.  I tasted in him, felt in him, the same desire that I had been holding back for so long.

Not wanting this opportunity to escape me, I plunged my own tongue deep into his mouth, to be met by his own tongue, eagerly twining about my own in a sensual dance.  I could taste cherry cola bubble-gum, and beneath that, tequila.  We melted into each other, lost in the beauty and pleasure of the moment.  It was some time before we finally broke apart for breath.  As we did, Duo looked me straight in the eye, his gaze saying everything that I was too afraid to ever speak.

With nothing more than a simple nod, he took me by the hand and led me over to his bed.   Spinning me around, he pushed me down onto the bed on my back, clearly expecting to gain the upper hand.  I wouldn’t let him; with a smile I just couldn’t seem to suppress, I pulled him down alongside me.  He did not resist, instead wriggling about in my arms to pull my tanktop over my head.  It was discarded on the floor in a messy heap, in typical Duo fashion.  My hands traced the muscular lines of his body, down to his boxers.  Slowly, hesitatingly, I removed them.  My trepidation elicited a warm chuckle from Duo; in one deft movement, he kicked the offending garment out of the bed and on to the floor and whipped my own shorts and boxers off my visibly eager body.

Taking the lead once again, my hand reached up to bury deep in his long chestnut locks.  I trailed along the braid, and upon reaching the band that held it in place, I looked him in the eye and fingered the band, asking him the question silently.  With a sweet smile he nodded, and I proceeded to remove the band from his hair.  The strands of his braid came apart easily, sliding smoothly together as they fell through my fingers.  Gathering a handful of the liquid gold to my face, I inhaled deeply the scent of coconut shampoo.

“How does he know what kind of shampoo I use?” Duo wondered absently as he resumed reading.

Aiming my attentions at his lower body, I stretched my hand down and grasped his erection, thumb and forefinger gently caressing it.  I grazed my lips along his chest, and darted my tongue out to tease at the rapidly hardening nipples.  His back arched, pushing his body into mine, and he let out a soft moan.  His hard, throbbing length was insistent in my hand and I lowered my mouth to suck at his cock, all the while continuing to rub circles on his chest with-

Before Duo had a chance to read any more, he flew across the room, landing in a heap by the wall.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing on my laptop?”  Heero demanded.  He slammed the screen down, obscuring it from view once again.  His cheeks flamed, but in the dubious lighting of the room, Duo didn’t notice.

“Well… I… well… you left it on, Heero… and I went to… to turn it off and…well I saw your…uh… um, story… and I didn’t mean to read it, honest, I just…” Duo shrunk back against the wall, terrified.

“You have no right to read my personal things,” Heero growled, but his tone was a little bit softer.  His insides twisted in guilt for what he was doing to Duo; the other boy was clearly convinced he was going to be hurt.

“Gomen,” Duo apologized after some moments consideration.  “Heh, Heero, how come you’ve got that ice pack in your hand?  Huh?”

“Oh.  It’s for you, but it seems as though maybe you don’t need it now,” he replied, as he finally remembered to close the door to their dorm.  Duo gulped; now no one would be able to hear his screams.  Heero advanced upon him, an expression on his face that Duo did not at first recognize.  It was… concern?

“Nani?”  Duo yelped, as Heero pushed him into the computer chair and pressed the ice pack into his hand.

“Keep that on your head,” Heero ordered, taking a seat a few feet away on his own bed.  He gazed at the ground for a few moments.  When he spoke again, Duo jumped in surprise.  “You banged you head pretty bad when you fell out of your bed earlier.”  Duo looked over at him, and much to his surprise, Heero’s face wore an expression every bit as unexpected as his earlier concern - a smile.

Duo flushed a brilliant beet red at the allusion to the cause for his sudden tumble from the bed.  “Ano… Heero, I uh… I guess I owe you an apology…”

“How do you figure?”  Heero interrupted.  “I wrote the story about you.  I did not have your permission to do so, and I sincerely hope I haven’t ruined our friendship.”

A shock ran through Duo; he hadn’t been sure his surly companion had ever counted him a friend.  He stared at Heero, who sat looking off into the distance, not even willing to meet him in the eye.  His own feelings of shame and fear of rejection came flooding back to Duo in a sudden rush of understanding, and he sat the ice pack down on the computer desk.  Heero raised his eyes to look uncertainly at him.  The look in his eyes reminded Duo painfully of a puppy that had been whipped and beaten every time a human being had come near it, and now expected no better form any sort of human touch.

Duo summoned up every bit of courage he had and cupped Heero’s face in his hands, forcing cobalt eyes to meet amethyst ones.  “What you heard me say when I was dreaming…” Duo began awkwardly, “I just hope that I didn’t… that I didn’t scare you off.”  His voice had dipped low, and was now husky with suppressed feeling.  “I don’t mind that story, Heero… but I’d like an explanation.”

Well, Heero sure seems to be doing a lot of blushing tonight, Duo observed the Japanese boy’s reaction with amusement.  It took him a minute to recover from his blushing fit and speak, but Heero never once tried to tear his gaze away form Duo’s.  He was like a moth, caught in the flame.  He gulped once, nervously, then spoke.

“I’ve always been taught to act on my emotions,” he explained.  “But I can’t when doing so might mean hurting someone.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Duo murmured softly.  They fell back onto the bed simultaneously, bodies moving together.

“Uh, Duo,” Heero said reluctantly after a moment. “What about your head?”

“Kiss it and make it better!” Duo ordered, trying to sound commanding but instead sounding more like a pouting child.

Heero snorted. “Baka.”

But he willingly obliged Duo, and in a short time the American pilot felt much better indeed.  And in retrospect, he was very glad that Heero had shut that door so that no one could hear his screams…

*end*

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