This is a story that my friend Mary sent me. At the time we had both been anime freaks. Lol. We loved Gundam Wing. Actually, she got me into to it. This is a fanfiction that she sent me. As a joke she changed the names in it to people that I knew and Heero and Relena was a guy that I liked and me. ::shrugs:: It was cute at the time. I still really like this story.
Also to whoever wrote it, I really like your story and would you please not mind if I keep it up here? Lol. I wish I knew who wrote it.
Deep night had settled over the Sank Kingdom. In the slight evening breeze banners attached to spires lazily waved. The full moon shone wanly behind thin clouds. Occasionally the faint light broke through and the great turret-tipped castle that dominated the landscape was bathed in shimmering silver. It was a very fairy-tale-like setting, giving no hint of the tumult the Sank Kingdom had experienced in recent decades. There was little to indicate the country's turmoil unless an observer looked closely enough on the outskirts of the capitol to realize that some of the buildings were still bombed-out shells not yet rebuilt, monuments to the recent history of betrayal, war and resolute pacifism.
He had hoped for such a night when it came time. It fit the specifications of his research material. He had not planned on it, however. Requiring the weather to cooperate before embarking on a mission was foolish. He would have been here, hanging like a spider against the pale stone of the castle's retaining wall, regardless of state of the natural elements. The mission required that it be now, this place, this night.
Nothing mattered but the mission.
He repelled down the side of the retaining wall, releasing the safety latch and falling the last ten feet. He landed quietly on bended knee and listened with a lowered head. No sound of alarm. The security here was as pathetic as ever.
He would have to do something about that if the mission proved successful.
He stood just as the moonlight made one of its sporadic bursts of illumination between wispy clouds. The silvering light revealed a slight young man, small for 18, wearing form-fitting black garments. Briefly, the young man raised his face toward the moon, his eyes glinting dangerously from behind dark, spiky bangs. Hastily, as if properly intimidated, the moonlight winked out and clouds again shrouded the sky.
Using terse, economic movements, the young man removed a coil of rope from a clip at his side. At one end dangled a three-pronged hook the size of his hand. Stealing through the dark pathways and shrubbery of the palace's garden, the young man silently made his way to the smooth wall of the castle itself. Hugging the contours of the building, he moved south, toward the wide bay that the castle faced. As he slipped through the darkness he would occasionally glance up, ticking off the necessary landmarks that let him know how close he was to his destination. The west wing guest quarters, where Duo and Hilde slumbered. Check. The expansive suite next door, where Trowa slept. Check. The first of the family rooms, where the big brother was--
Problem.
Halting as he rounded the turret that connected the west wing to the central portion of the palace, the young man gazed steadily at the rectangle of light that outlined a tall figure leaning forward with elbows braced on the balcony railing. The young man narrowed his eyes as he considered the remaining distance to his goal. Under normal circumstances he would give himself excellent odds at continuing undetected, but the figure overhead was as much a warrior as he, with finely honed instincts--and one could not leave out the 'big brother' component. His research indicated that, of all family members that would be inclined to interfere with the mission, big brothers were likely to be the most bothersome. He briefly considered alternative approaches. A voice in his head that sounded like an exasperated Duo said, "You could just knock, Heero. The party's tomorrow. They are expecting you." The young man squelched the stray thought ruthlessly. 'Knocking' was not within mission parameters.
Clear tones with indistinct words drifted down to him. The man on the balcony turned his head. Long, gleaming hair fell smoothly over one shoulder. "I'm coming, Noine," he said. "I just wanted to look at the sea in the moonlight." With a last, lingering glance at the view, the figure returned to his rooms. Beneath the balcony, the young man waited patiently until the lights within quenched. He counted to one hundred, slowly, just to be sure. Then he continued toward his goal.
For a normal human, the sheer smooth wall he paused beside would seem un-scalable. The young man, however, did not appear intimidated. His eyes traced an invisible path up the wall to the balcony several stories overhead. Truth be told, there were enough fingerholds for him to make the climb without the rope. As far as that went, he possessed a number of mechanisms that could shoot a line to the balcony above, securely attach to one of the balustrades, and haul him up after it, all in complete silence. Once he decided upon this particular approach to the mission, however, his research indicated shimmying up a rope was, for some reason, a desirable skill. And he had accepted the mission.The young man regarded the rope in his hands, shrugged slightly, and began to swing the clawed end back and forth to build up momentum. With more strength than appeared possible from his slim build he flung the three-pronged grappling hook the necessary distance. There was a faint "clang" as the hook struck the stone floor of the balcony. The young man gave a sharp tug. The claws wedged between narrow balustrades. One more tug to test, then the young man silently climbed with a quick, hand-over-hand movement.
He grasped the edge of the balcony and vaulted over with a lightness that suggested the climb had been no exertion. Double French doors confronted him. He tested one of the elaborate wrought-iron handles. Locked. Good. She's far too trusting, sometimes. The young man exerted pressure downward. The locking mechanism strained, then broke with a dull click. She needs stronger locks, though. He glanced back at the rope, debating whether to pull it up after himself. Seeing that in the morning will give Louis heart attack. One corner of the firm mouth twitched up briefly. Ignoring the rope, he turned back to the ajar door and stepped through. He paused a moment, surveying the dark room he had entered with one slow visual sweep. His gaze did not linger on the bed, although that was where his eyes centered once his assessment of the room's defenses was complete. Or perhaps his attention was directed toward the indistinct lump in the middle of the over-large four-poster.
First mission objective: achieved.
Target in sight. Acquisition proceeding.
He moved silently to stand next to the bed, clinically regarding the occupant. Her pale hair was loose, flowing over the pillow. One hand was cast out on the covers, palm up; the other was hidden, along with her body, under the sheets. The young man cocked his head to one side, observing. His hands moved to his pouched belt. He removed items that he set carefully on the bedside table: a box of condoms, fine talc powder, two small bottles of oil. Something propped against the table lamp caught his gaze. He reached out one finger to touch the button nose of a small stuffed bear. Then he turned his attention back to the bed.
He bent over to lightly finger the fair strands spread over the pillow, raising a few to his face and inhaling. A faint herbal fragrance. One of the bottles went back into the belt. Out of a long pouch that ran along his side he pulled a single, thorn-less rose. He held it up to his face, critically. Slightly bruised in the process, releasing some of the faint rose scent, but still serviceable. He leaned over the edge of the bed and, reaching out with the rose, stroked it against the cheek of the sleeping occupant.
She exhaled on a delicate snort and brushed at it with her exposed hand. An unexpected smile chased across the young man's face. He lowered the rose to her fingers and tickled her palm with the petals. Her hand flexed, closed around the petals, opened again. There was a sleepy murmur. The occupant of the bed was beginning to waken. The young man watched critically, preparing for the several scenarios that might play out when the young woman realized there was a shadowy male figure at her bedside.
Possibility 1: lots of panicked screaming, in which case he would abort the mission, throw himself out the window and simply show up as scheduled the next day as if nothing had happened.
Possibility 2: non-panicked-but-alarmed vocalizations, in which case he could quickly identify himself and calm her down, hopefully before any of the "big brother interfering" scenarios played out.
Possibility 3: the most probable--
"Heero?" queried the bed's occupant in a sleep-rough voice, scrubbing the back of her hand across her eyes.
Called it. She had a primal instinct for identification where he was concerned. No matter how invisible he wanted to be, no matter how disguised he thought he was, invariably she would discern he was there and, even through thick crowds that should have rendered him invisible, those serene eyes of hers would meet his.
She hid a delicate yawn behind one graceful hand. "I was having the weirdest dream," she commented. "About Robert Ramas. Ew."
Mission note: Do not use roses in the future.
Research note: Determine which other flowers have rose-soft petals. (Consider tulips.)
Without hurry, Heero put the rose on the bedside table, well away from the bed's occupant.
She squinted at the bedside clock as she sat up. "It's after midnight. If you're going to take me to go to inline, couldn't you wait until a decent hour?"
"It's the correct hour," he replied, cryptically. "It's the correct time, Relena."
He had not planned to actually touch the bed until he had her permission -- permission to continue the mission was very important -- but he had also not allowed for the size of the bed. A slight modification of mission parameters, Heero decided, was acceptable. He slid one knee onto the satin covers. This allowed him the extra few inches he needed to grasp her shoulders. He pulled her toward him with what was, he estimated, a gentle but irresistible force.
He had outlined the next part very carefully. He had tested out appropriate pressures on his forearm, what was too light, what was close to bruising. He had bitten down on the more delicate flesh of his palm, determining how sharp his teeth were, what the difference was between gentle, pleasurable suckling and a painful vacuum-like suction on the skin. He had plotted his plan of attack as well. First the side of her mouth with his own barely parted, flicking the tip of his tongue against her skin. As expected, her lips parted on a surprised intake of breath. He covered her open mouth with his own, gently nibbling at her top lip, then mouthed her lower lip with soft suction. He didn't deepen the kiss. That would come later, after he had permission. This was just -- just --
She wasn't supposed to stick her tongue into his mouth. Not yet. Nor move it around like... that. And she was closer than she was should be at this stage, pressed against his chest, hands tight against his shoulder-blades.
For a few seconds, Heero completely forgot what stage of the mission he was in.
Once he recalled the mission, Heero carefully relaxed his grip on her and pushed her far enough away to look her in the eyes.
"I want you," he said. "That's why I'm here. Are you ready for me, Relena?"
Relena leaned back, looking at him thoughtfully. No false modesty, no pretense at shock, just examining. The way she assessed surprising situations was one of the things he appreciated about her. He found himself also appreciating the single beam of moonlight that seemed to have permanently tangled in her hair--
Stray thoughts about Relenas physical attractiveness are not currently acceptable.
"I understand," she said, finally. She sounded amused. Glancing at the clock, she said again, "I understand. Yes, Heero. Whatever you have planned -- " her mouth quirked as if she were finding it difficult to keep a straight face -- "my answer is 'yes'."
Mission proceeding.
He estimated the chances of her being a virgin at better than 95%. If she were not, the chances of her having lost her virginity through some sort of abuse was nearly 100% since he had not observed any of the young men who lurked around her hopefully getting further than a formal kiss on the hand. Either case meant the next step needed to be handled very carefully. While his research material always favored direct approaches, Heero knew far more about nerve endings and pressure points than any of those authors. It would be -- interesting -- to use his knowledge for pleasure instead of pain.
First things first.
He wanted no surprises or awkwardness. Stepping away from the bed, Heero quickly and efficiently stripped. Each article was carefully folded and set on the bedside table near the rose. When he glanced at Relena, he found her watching silently with wide eyes. She followed the movements as he put the black turtle-neck then the tank top underneath onto the table. Her gaze remained there, noticing his earlier additions to the table. Unlike his own, her senses were not enhanced. In the dark, she probably could not see anything more than vague shapes, certainly could not read the writing (or see the rather ludicrous graphics) on the small box there, but she probably could make an educated guess as to what was contained within. He observed her carefully as he stepped out of his shoes, undid his pants.
No blushing. But then, they had been through war together. It was hard to make someone who had seen war blush.
He reached for the box, opened it, and tore off two of the foil-wrapped packets. He held one out to her. "In case I forget," he said.
Relena took the packet between two fingers. Yes, she was definitely smiling now. "You forget something? That would be the end of the world." She tucked the condom under one of the pillows. Sitting up, she clasped her hands around her bent knees. "What's next on the agenda?"
Folding his pants onto the table, he gazed at her with a touch of wariness. She wasn't acting entirely as he predicted: too much amusement, not a trace of virginal nerves. Perhaps she was more experienced than he estimated. But then, unlike most of the protagonists in his research material, she was a world leader. Composure was natural to her. It took a great deal to shake her. His research suggested that composure was not the most desirable trait at this stage. Not if he wanted her to be utterly mindless later.
Fisting a handful of the cover, Heero stripped it from the bed.
That did it. Relena uttered a soft, surprised yelp, grabbed at the edge of her nightgown to pull it down, tried to tuck her feet under her body. Heero seized her wrists and pushed her back, pinning her hands by her head. He straddled her hips, careful not put too much weight on her. Startled eyes stared up at him. He leaned his face in close to hers, pulling his lips back in his best estimation of a feral grin. "You sure?" he snarled.
Relena giggled.
The smile wiped off his face. Heero stared at her, feeling a little--hurt? Dammit, he had practiced that grimace in front of the mirror for hours. No-one in his research materials ever dissolved into laughter after their mate started with the feral grinning.
The look on his face seemed to set off more giggles. "I'm sure, I'm sure, Heero," she gasped out. "Get off me. I can't do a thing about being sure with you holding me down."
He let go of her wrists. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing close to him. Heero let her as he considered his next move. The forceful-yet-gentle approach was not having the effect he anticipated. She was supposed to melt into a puddle of helpless sexual need that would better prepare her body for invasion, lessening any pain. She was not supposed to be mouthing the side of his face, making little shifting movements under him that teased him with the soft press of her breasts, and definitely NOT twisting her ankles around his in a way that made him feel as if every individual leg hair was completely sensitized--
Focus on the mission.
He pulled her arms from his neck. Lacing his fingers though hers, he held her arms out to the side. "We're not to this part yet," he told her, sternly.
"Heero, for God's sake." Relena was beginning to sound a little exasperated. "Will you just be natural?"
The mission was far too important for him to be "natural".
Heero swung his body off of her, tugged her to a sitting position, and grabbed handfuls of her gown, pulling it over her head. She did not fight him when the barrier between their skins was removed, but tried to press against his chest again. Too distracting. Frowning, he took her by the shoulders and quickly flipped her over, straddling her hips again, ignoring the cut-off exclamation, muffled when her face hit the pillow. She pushed up to her elbows. "Heero--!"
The arch this gave her naked back was ... interesting.
Backs were neglected areas. Backs were where nerves met and combined to send signals to the rest of the body. Backs were -- with precision, Heero pulled his thumbs along either side of her spine from the base of her neck to the curve of her buttocks -- very, very sensitive.
Heero rested his hands against the dimples at the top of her rear, kneading her sides with his fingertips. Already she was breathing in shallow breaths, not quite gasping but getting there. He reached for the collection of objects he had deposited on the bedside table, bypassing the oil -- although recommended by several of his research sources, now that he was here he thought it would make her skin stick to the sheets, which did not sound very comfortable -- for the talc. He stroked a handful of the smooth powder against her sleek back. There were slight twitches along the path his hands took, tiny catches in her breathing. Her head hung down, the long blond hair falling over her shoulders and pooling on the bed. He carefully massaged the base of her neck with his callused thumbs. Suddenly her elbows gave out. Relena wriggled under him, settling flat against the bed with her head pillowed on her crossed arms. He had to pause briefly because that wriggle did -- things -- to him.
To one part of him in particular.
Ahead of schedule.
After a moment of dispassionate consideration, Heero decided he could proceed despite a state of nearly painful arousal. He had carried out previous missions in excruciating pain. So he continued with the carefully choreographed massage, pressing lightly with his fingertips, rotating his palms against the delicate flesh of her backbone, working to ease all tension from her body.
Of course, there was absolute no tension in her body that he could detect. She had always been far too comfortable around him. Yet she did seem to be enjoying his ministrations. And, in spite of the fact that self-enjoyment was not high on the list of priorities for this first time, Heero discovered he liked hearing the soft pleasurable noises that issued from her parted lips. He pushed his thumbs against the base of her spine and paused, debating whether he should work his way back up or go on to the next stage. Her eyes were closed, mouth slackened in pleasure. Good. He would move on.
He pressed his chest against her, letting her feel his weight briefly before sliding his arms under her. Her breast fit naturally into one palm. She was not much taller than she had been at fifteen, but she had filled out in ways that pleased him. Kneading her rounded flesh, he mouthed against the back of her shoulder, using teeth and tongue, sucking the skin gently. She was as mindless as he could want now, writhing and twisting and gasping, thrusting back against his hips. He pulled one knee up, pressing his thigh between her legs. She was very wet; very ready. The packet she had tucked beneath the pillow was the closest of the two he had pulled out of the box. Keeping as much contact with her body as possible, Heero freed up one hand and fumbled blindly toward the top of the bed. He found it under the second pillow he groped beneath. Fortunately he had practiced opening similar packets using one hand and his teeth; otherwise he would have to move the hand currently fondling her breast, and he liked that hand right where it was. He reached down and tugged the protective sheath over his erect sex as his mouth pressed tiny kisses against whatever skin was closest.
She was moaning his name on a pleading keen. "Not yet," he said against her back, the words muffled and unexpectedly hoarse. Reluctantly he pulled the hand cupping her soft breast away. He scooted down the bed, leaving a trail of kisses in the sensitive hollow next to her spine, lightly biting against the flesh of her hip, mouthing and then blowing across her inner thigh. She was twisting, trying to face him. He reached up with his hands, wrapping his fingers around her narrow waist to hold her down. "Shh," he said for no particular reason. "Shh." He kissed her inner thigh again, letting her feel the edge of his teeth. He inhaled slowly. There was something about the musty scent of her--
Concentrate on the mission, Yuy.
Acquisition of target: proceeding.
He placed his mouth against the center of her body. He lapped. He suckled. He blew. He nibbled. He lapped some more. And Jack twisted and bucked and cried out wordlessly, her arms flung wide on either side clawing at the sheets, as out of control as he needed her to be for the next stage to work as he anticipated. Her breath started coming in rhythmic little puffs. Orgasm? Heero lifted his face. Her head was jerking about, drumming against the bed, her brow knitted, her mouth shaped like a perfect "O." Just like in his research material. Orgasm. Perfect. Jack pressed his lips against her thigh to clean them, then sat up and flipped her over to her back. She was still convulsing, not noticing a single thing in the room around her. Perfect. He held her legs apart, fitted himself to her body, and gave one quick, hard push.
Target: acquired.
Relenas eyes flew open. "Heero?" She sounded confused, blinking up at him. She gasped. "You're--when did you--? Oh...oooh..."
He kissed her with a marauding tongue, flicking it against her teeth, sweeping it through her mouth. She moaned again, the sound muffled. He held his body still, his weight on his hands as he leaned over her, teasing at her lips to distract her, waiting for her to be ready, to adjust to the feeling of his sex within hers.
Still moaning, Relena wrapped an arm around his neck nd pulled herself up to him, pressing close against him. Her body flexed around him. Startled, Heero nearly gasped into her mouth, then realized the reason he couldn't gasp was because he didn't have enough air. When had he forgotten to breathe?
Relena rocked her hips against his. This time, he did gasp. He thrust back, hard, before trying to restrain himself. It was too soon, he'd hurt her if they did it like this right away--
She pushed again, this time twisting one leg around his thigh first for leverage.
He had prepared for this, a corner of his mind reminded him. He had practiced, arranging pillows under himself, anticipating every possible which way she could put arms and legs, rehearsing what he would do if the experience pained her or frightened her, timing what he estimated the appropriate amount of time for her body to adjust to her initial sexual experience. He had planned everything, including inducing such pleasure in her that any discomfort should be dulled by the force of her climax--
He had left out one factor. Himself.
He did not expect the tightness of her body to rob him of breath. He did not expect the sound of her labored breathing to make him clench against her thighs in response. He did not expect the low moaning of his name to make him want to bite at her shoulders and nip at her breasts. He did not expect to be so --
"Wanton," he managed to grit out.
"Yes," Relena moaned back, but she wasn't really answering any more than he was really speaking to her.
Control, Heero decided, was not really necessary. Fighting for control was making him crazy. When he lost it, he reasoned (not that he was really reasoning very clearly), then he would be more likely to hurt her. Better to give it up now, voluntarily--better to give himself up to her--better to--
Better to stop thinking and just act on your emotions, Yuy.
He gripped his fingers into her long hair, pulling her head back, mouthing her smooth throat. Relena's hands clutched against his head, pulling his head back so she could seal her lips against his. They grunted and tussled and grinded their sweat-slicked bodies together as they took turns plundering each other's mouth, occasionally ripping away to gulp in air, but always returning to plunder some more. Heero could not even tell that he was approaching the edge; all he knew was that Relena's entire body went taut and suddenly he was over it, gasping and shuddering and feeling her muffled scream in his throat. He completely forgot to hold himself up, collapsing against her in a boneless mass, mindlessly moaning out her name as pleasure washed through him.
"That," said Heero in irritation (or it would have been irritation if he had enough breath to project irritation, which he did not), "went all wrong."
"Did it?" Relena sounded dazed. "I can hardly wait to figure out how to do this right, then."
"I didn't want it to hurt for you."
Thoughtfully, Relena shifted under him, moving slightly. "Um--I guess it did, a little. I didn't really notice, though."
Heero's irritation began to dissipate. "You were busy," he said, smugly. "That part worked, then."
Relena started to chuckle, which, since he was still inside of her, was a very strange sensation. Pleasant, he decided analytically, but strange. "You planned up to that point--? Of course you did." She trailed a finger down his neck. "Well, thank you for being that concerned about me, Heero. And thanks for the best birthday present you've ever given me. Not that I don't love the stuffed bear, but this was a lot better. I think whatever else I get at the party tomorrow;" she glanced at the clock, grinned, and continued; "today, this will be my favorite."
"I have a real present," he told her. "I'll have to go back and get it. What with the rope and the flower and the -- er, paraphernalia, I couldn't carry it as well."
The amusement came back into her face, but at this stage Heero no longer minded. "I think I know where my romance novels keep disappearing to."
"Research," said Heero prosaically. "Inadequate. Things were left out."
She became very earnest all at once, her deep eyes serious. "They're fantasies, Heero. I don't need fantasies. I just want you in my life. Don't vanish on me any more. Stay."
He buried his face against her neck so she wouldn't see the satisfaction on it. "Mission accepted," he murmured. Mission accomplished, he thought in contentment.
