Title: What if #1
Author: Biko no Seishi
Date Writting: 29.5.00
Rating: NC17
Pairing: 2x1
Warning: Lemon. Crossdressing.
Feedback: Yes please! engel@gundamwing.net
Notes: If anyone can think of a better name for this, please email me and tell me!
Disclaimer: I do not own GundamW, or any of the characters associated with GundamW. They belong to someone else. I am not making any profit.
Duo paused midsentance, staring. Wufei sputtered on his coffee, choking and turning a rather interesting shade of red.
Heero crossed his arms, scowling.
Quatre looked up from where he was been reading the morning news via his laptop, and blushed brightly, biting his lip. Trowa glanced at Heero, and a sharp flush crossed his face before the impassive mask slid down again, leaving his face blank and staring. Wufei continued to choke on his coffee.
Heero blushed.
Duo finally broke the sudden silence, and began howling with laughter. He slid from his chair to the floor at Heero's feet, doubled over in wracking, bruising giggles. He looked up from slit eyes at Heero's glowering figure.
Heero yanked his skirt away from his peeping comrade.
It began on a morning normal enough for the group. Duo had woken up with a hangover, stumbling from Heero's bed to the showers, trying to regain awareness from the circus elephants that Trowa had let in his head last night. He slammed into the tile wall, staggered further into the shower, and eventually fell against a very shocked Wufei, who had been showering.
"DUO!" Wufei roared, shoving the sleepy American out of the shower stall. Duo lost his balance and fell on his ass on the tiled floor, and promptly burst into tears, not really understanding why. Wufei shoved his head past the curtain, wrapping the plastic material around himself for modesty, and he stared at the weeping American. Duo looked up, and gulped.
Wufei was dripping wet, his black hair clinging femininely about his face. The shower curtain wasn't hiding much, considering it was mostly transparent, and Wufei hadn't seemed to notice the translucent quality before pulling it about his torso. Duo swiped at his eyes, but the beautiful vision of masculinity remained before him, daring him to reach out and...
Duo blinked, wondering where that thought had come from. Then he whimpered, realising how badly his ass hurt from landing on it, and glared at the Chinese pilot opposite him. "Fei-kun, whaddya do that for?" he whined, shoving at the curtain-clad boy. Wufei evaded him deftly, and scowled, "What are you doing in my shower?!"
Duo shrugged, and replied shamefully, "Eto, I thought it was empty? You coulda made some noise y'know, or said something before I stumbled in, you know how I am in the morning-" Wufei's face was now a bright red, and he turned away, "Go and have your coffee then, Duo. Go!"
Duo meeped and backed out, embarrassed on walking in on Wufei. He scuttled down the stairs, passing a rather violent Heero murmuring something about a mission. Quatre greeted the American cheerfully from the kitchen. Duo gulped. Quatre cooking was never a good idea. Trowa glanced up at him as he stumbled inside, and Duo sighed. Quatre wasn't cooking, he was only watching Trowa cooking.
A fleeting image of Trowa, clad in a frilly apron and little else, flashed through Duo's mind, and he blushed. Quatre peered at him curiously, and asked, "Duo, daijoubu desu ka?" Duo nodded, forcing the blood down, and grinned, "Daijoubu kitto oki, Quatre-kun! Hounto da, I was only thinking about stuff, y'know, Heero-centred stuff..." Quatre blushed prettily, and averted his eyes, nodding. Duo being ecchi regarding the Perfect Soldier wasn't anything new.
Duo sighed in relief as he settled with his coffee, slurping the steaming liquid straight. What was wrong with him, was he going to start thinking about Quatre too? He knew his hormones were increasing curently, Heero had commented on his insatiable behaviour recently. But could that really account for his thoughts straying so much from his chosen, and preferred partner?
It was like he was betraying Heero, somehow cheating on the Japanese boy in his mind. Somehow Heero would know, he knew it. But when he was actually thinking about it, he didn't really want the other pilots. They aroused him, he had enough evidence of that, but as a commitment it was only Heero. Now just if his hormones would listen to his mind!
Wufei stomped into the kitchen, fixing Duo with a murderous glare before grunted a curt 'ohayo' to Quatre and Trowa. Quatre looked questioningly at Duo, who bit his lip, and haltingly began to explain. Wufei groaned, burying his face in his coffee.
Then Heero had walked in.
Duo stared at his lover, raking his eyes unconsciously over the slim soldier's form. He was clad in a school uniform from a prominent Kyoto school for girls only, from what Duo could tell. His hair was pulled back enticingly, the messy mop clipped neatly from the Japanese boy's face with a myriad of colourful, glittering barrettes. He wore a slight dusting of blush over his tan cheekbones, and Duo could have sworn he saw light blue eyeshadow over the glaring cobalt eyes.
The uniform, however, took the attention of the other pilots. It was a formal outfit, a long, kneelength pleated navy skirt revealing freshly shaven legs and Heero's typical sneakers, which did not go with the rest of the outfit at all. His torso was clad in a tailored button down shirt, and it seemed like he was wearing some sort of padding to account for his...lack of chest. A blue bandana wrapped about his neck, and he held a matching navy jacket over his shoulder.
Duo began laughing, watching as silence overtook the room. Wufei spat his coffee back into the mug, flushing violently. Duo rolled to the floor, his chest hurting slightly at the comical sight, and he came to a rest as Heero's feet.
Heero yanked his skirt away before Duo could see enough up the long cloth, and hissed at him, "Omae o korosu!" Duo shook his head, continuing to bubble laughter at his partner. He had seen Heero's omniprescient spandex shorts, but somehow Heero had developed feminine modesty as well.
"Naze?" Quatre asked softly, examining the Japanese boy blushingly. "Ninmu," Heero growled flatly, plunking himself to a chair and downing a mug of coffee quickly. Trowa arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. Duo slowly recovered himself, and glanced Heero's hunched back, the back of his neck red with shame.
Then he exhaled, realising that Heero looked very good in a dress. It just fit him, making the soldier's narrow waist more noticable, and flaring about his hips to give the illusion of feminine curves. Then his face...the blush and eyeshadow brought of the fresh, girlish quality to Heero's face, and accented his gaze, making the intense cobalt orbs seem deeper in shade.
Heero met Duo's examining, slightly awed gaze with a fierce scowl. Duo grinned nervously, and ran off to his room as Heero approached. Heero glowered and followed the American tensely, the skirt flipping behind his angry stride. Quatre swooned at the panty shot, and Wufei dabbed at his nose viciously, wiping away a nosebleed.
Duo sat on his bed, almost completely unused and therefore clean and tightly made up. He wondered why he even had the bed, it wasn't like the other pilots didn't know he snuck into Heero's room every night. They hadn't even bothered to pretend that they slept apart for months, not like Trowa and Quatre. Duo had caught Quatre stealing into Trowa's bunk while on his way to Heero's own, and his suspicions had been cemented.
Then this morning...he had known Heero had a mission, but what new sadistic plot of the scientists would have Heero Yuy, Perfect Soldier and testosterone addict, dressing as a girl? Infiltration of a girl's school, likely the Kyoto one Duo had suspected, but for what purpose?
"I'm assassinating a student, Duo. Now stop it," Heero growled from the doorway. Duo snapped up, a gun aimed at his partner before he could think, then he scowled and relaxed. "Heero, man, don't sneak up on me like that! You scared the shit outta me!" Duo grinned. Heero walked inside, almost smirking at the immaculate room, and sat down properly beside his American partner.
"Oi, so you have to get into the school to kill some girl?" Duo surmised, daring to clutch Heero's hand. The Japanese boy stiffened, but didn't pull away. "Hai, the security's too tight otherwise. What's your problem, anyway? It's humiliating enough to have to wear this...monstrousity," Heero snorted. Duo blinked at him, and smiled slyly.
"I wouldn't call it such names, Heero...it does look rather attractive on you," Duo smirked. Heero's grip on his fingers tightened, and he sputtered, "Nani??! Eto...hounto ni?" Duo grinned, and nodded, "Hai hai! It looks good on you, and the makeup is an excellent touch, brings out your eyes, y'know."
Heero blushed, and turned away coyly. Duo recognised his challenge, and flirted, "It looks wonderful, Heero-chan...I'd like to see you in it, later." Heero shot an eyebrow up, and Duo grinned widely. The Japanese boy stood, returning a slight smile, even if it was accompanied by a blush, and left the house for his mission.
Two weeks later and several news reports about a student being brutally murdered on the streets of Kyoto, Heero returned to the current safehouse, still clad in female dress. He had completed his mission report on the public transport back to the house, and he wondered nervously if Duo was even there, or if he was off on a mission. He was tired enough, and none of the other pilots were there to laugh at him, so he stumbled upstairs to his bedroom, and flopped in the computer chair.
The Japanese pilot winced at the messy room, and contemplated tidying it up somewhat before he went to sleep, then his body decided that it wasn't worth the wait. Heero groaned at an oncoming headache, and opened up his laptop, typing out a mission report quickly and emailing it to Doctor J on the rebel network. He shut down, unwilling to pull new email and possibly new missions. He frowned sharply, recognising a version of laziness in his thoughts.
"Duo must be rubbing off on me," he grunted harshly, toeing his shoes off. The uniform was comfortable enough, after two weeks of wearing little else, and he didn't feel like changing.
A tired smile crossed the perfect soldier's face quickly, reminding him of Duo's enigmatic comment regarding said uniform. Heero smirked evilly, dragging himself across the floor to the bed. "And if he wakes me up, he's in for a surprise..." The young Japanese boy grinned suddenly, sliding underneath a multitude of blankets. He smoothed his skirt down what he could from where it had ridden up, and yawned cutely. Then he collapsed.
Duo danced into the house, teasing Trowa mercilessly. Quatre was blushing, occasisionally joining in on teasing his partner, and Trowa was shooting his lover dirty, if amused looks, or as much as Trowa ever did. Duo laughed loudly, and Wufei stormed off, locking himself in his room to read or some equally boring fate. The braided American had been in an exceptionally good mood all day, likely linked to the fact that Heero's mission had been completed recently, and the other pilot was due home any day now.
Duo waltzed into his bedroom - actually Heero's - and blinked in the semi-darkness of the room. He knew that was his lover's laptop on the desk, and he figured that the dark lump concealed in the darkest shadows of the room in the bed, nestled underneath myriad blankets, would be the owner of said laptop. He wondered if Heero had merely collapsed after returning, and if so, had he changed into normal clothing...?
Duo snorted softly. Of course Heero had, he wouldn't stay in the girl's uniform one minute longer than absolutely necessary for the mission. Duo smiled gently at his friend's slumbering form, wondering if Heero had burnt his skirt or not. It would have been fun...Duo blushed at his thoughts, and turned to leave the room silently as he had come. Or he would have, if the floorboards hadn't squeaked.
Duo froze, cursing under his breath, then whirled, expecting to find a gun under his chin at least. He stared at Heero merely rolled over in the bed, then winced as he met the blazing cobalt eyes. Duo smiled weakly, backing away in fear from disturbing the perfect soldier's beauty sleep, and swiped away a sudden sweatdrop from his forehead. Heero's gaze softened, and Duo swore the Japanese pilot actually smirked underneath the concealing blankets, but with the shadows he couldn't be sure.
Duo watched, frozen in place out of fear or hope as Heero untangled one arm from within the massive comforters, and stretched it out to turn on the bedside lamp. Heero sat up, his torso still swathed in thick blankets, and he arched an eyebrow at Duo. The American blushed again, and bounced back to life, "Oi, Heero-kun! How'd the mission go? I heard about it on the television, did ya send in the report yet?"
Heero nodded, and Duo sauntered over to him, standing before the edge of the bed. Heero pulled his legs underneath him, or that's what it looked like from the slightly moving mass of blankets, and Duo wrinkled his nose, "Heero, man, don't you get hot with all those blankets?" Heero shook his head, and replied, "No. I'm cold when I'm asleep."
"Yare yare, you're awake now, so ditch the threads, ne?" Duo teased, playfully sliding behind Heero's blanket-ensconced body. Heero glared at him, and replied, "I'm still cold. Unless, of course, you would care to warm me up...?" Duo blinked at Heero's change of mood from icy and angry to enticing, and leaned his head against the dark boy's shoulder.
"Mm, are you trying to seduce me, Yuy?" Duo murmured, sliding a hand down Heero's obscured neck into the tangled fabric. Heero smiled darkly, then arched into Duo's touch as the braided pilot brushed his collarbone.
Duo grinned as Heero melted in his arms, and proceeded to stroke the curve of bone and flesh, teasing at the hollow of the youth's throat as he pulled the blankets down to Heero's hips, wrapping his free arm about the Japanese boy's waist. Heero had been wearing some rather formal, stiff shirt, now wrinkled, but true to form, neatly buttoned up to his neck.
Heero suddenly moved, pulling away from Duo's teasing touch. But he had underestimated the force of his movement, and so fell out of the blankets onto the floor. Duo gasped, grinning as Heero caught his roll to land on his feet. Heero's legs were splayed to displace his weight over as large a distance as possible, but all that did was to show off exactly how short the skirt he was apparently still wearing was. Heero saw Duo's flushed face, and the anticipatory gleam in the American's eyes, and smiled slyly, pulling his legs back together modestly to stand femininely, as he had figured out by neccesity at the girls' school.
Duo's breath quickened as Heero self-consciously smoothed out the impossibly short skirt, revealing long, shaven legs and an acquired girlish poise. Duo stared at Heero's face, and the Japanese boy hid a smile as he had learned behind his hand, turning away in mock shyness. Duo caught on to the game, and grinned, pulling himself from the bed. He felt awkward, moving when he knew the bulge in his pants was probably quite obvious to Heero's gaze. Heero glanced at him, his gaze appraising yet somehow almost female.
Duo brushed a hand acros Heero's cheekbone, and leaned in, taking in the remnants of makeup and styling gel used to enhance Heero's appearance at the school. Heero shivered, reminding them both that he was still rather cold, and of Duo's promise to warm him. Duo smiled wickedly, taking advantage of Heero's quiver to slide his arms about his partner, pulling the skirt-clad pilot against his chest. Heero tottered slightly, his balance off from the narrow stance, and he fell into Duo's arms, his face pressed to the American's neck.
Duo exhaled sharply as Heero's tongue flickered out, leaving a wet trail from his soft touch along Duo's neck. Heero pressed a closed kiss to Duo's pulse, then pulled back, drawing himself up to his normal height. Duo smiled gently at him, his violet gaze darkened with arousal. Heero smiled back, a real, kind smile without any evil. Duo could have mooned at his partner's unexpected beauty, but instead leaned forward just enough for him to feel Heero's breath on his lips. Heero closed his eyes, waiting for Duo to kiss him, but Duo held back.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Heero? Or how sexy you look in that skirt, all hiked up...it wasn't that short before you left..." Duo whispered against Heero's lips. Heero trembled, winding his arms about Duo's shoulders, waiting for him. He restrained a moan as Duo's tongue darted out, licking the edge of Heero's upper lip, parted already. The Japanese youth shuddered, flickering his tongue to touch Duo's briefly. Duo's mouth curved, then he completed the embrace, crushing his lips against Heero's. Heero gave in, moaning as Duo's tongue traced the soft wet flesh of his mouth, then trailed lightly along his tongue before retreating, drawing Heero after him.
Duo's hands palmed Heero's back, then slid down, cupping his firm buttocks through the skirt. Heero, distracted by the possessive touch on his rear, pushed his hips back into Duo's hands. Duo smirked, delving deeper into Heero's mouth as he slammed their hips together. The Japanese boy whimpered as he rocked against Duo's arousal, his own hard erection grinding against his lover's.
Duo groaned, his hands clenching Heero's bum at the sharp contact. The American broke free from the kiss, panting, then Heero pulled him into another. Their tongues entwined, Duo slowly pulled up Heero's skirt, eager to have his fingers on the smooth, shaven skin. It would do since his mouth was busy, he supposed. Then Duo blinked his eyes open, startled. Heero drew back, smirking teasingly as Duo's hands froze on bare skin, unhampered by spandex or boxers. Duo's eyes finally focused his violet gaze staring incredulously into Heero's sly blue orbs. Then Heero kissed him teasingly, drawing back enough to begin unbuttoning Duo's jacket. Duo jerked back into action, removing one hand to battle Heero's uniform shirt, mercifully bereft of any padding from the mission, his other hand exploring under Heero's skirt.
Heero removed Duo's jacket carefully, then grumbled about priest's clothing bitterly as he began attacking Duo's shirt, thankfully less difficult. Soon the American's pale chest was open to his gaze, even as he tried to ignore Duo's own assault on his clothing, and his hand under his skirt. Heero gasped loudly as Duo's fingers circled the base of his erection, and threw his head back, his shirt peeling from his skin.
Duo glanced at Heero's bare chest appreciatively, sparing a few burning kisses and nips for his hardened nipples before the braided pilot sank to his knees, bringing his head level with the very edge of Heero's skirt. Heero stared at his lover, his eyes widening and his face flushed, then he dropped the shirt behind him. Duo pulled his own clothing to the floor, stripping his chest, then he opened his pants, pulling his erection out of the restrictive clothing. Heero pursed his lips, wanting to taste the clear drop pooling at the tip of Duo's shaft.
Then Duo's hands returned to caressing the firm globes of his rear, and he clenched uncertainly, his nerves suddenly more sensitive. Duo slowly dragged a finger down the crease, and Heero moaned noisily, his hips bucking. Duo grinned, and removed his hands, stroking one over his own arousal lazily. Heero stared at him, his eyes pleading where his harsh breaths could not explain. Duo played with himself further, tantilising his partner, then took mercy on the immobile pilot above him, giving in to the fantasy that had haunted him since Heero had first shown up in the skirt.
Duo carefully lifted the hem of Heero's skirt with both hands, revealing the Japanese boy's jutting arousal. He leaned forward, wrapping his slim hand about the base of Heero's erection, then smiled up at Heero's trembling stare. He kept the eye contact as he pressed a slow, sultry kiss to Heero's head, and the Japanese boy threw his head back, failing to stifle a groan. Duo grinned, tongueing his lover's slit, and began lavishing kisses and long licks to the pulsing organ. The skirt draped over his head, and he could feel Heero's hands cupping his skull through the fine fabric, trying to push him down further, and hold the fleeting hot caresses Duo preferred to drop on Heero's salty skin.
Duo lowered his head further, trailing a finger along the underside of Heero's member as he cupped the heavy sac, mouthing each teste before nuzzling the sensitive skin. Heero was panting above him, he could hear it through the cloth muffling his ears, and he could feel it in the tight grasp Heero had on his head through the skirt. Duo offered a hot, open kiss to Heero's perinium briefly before pulling back, and proceeding to envelope Heero's throbbing erection in his mouth.
The Japanese pilot grunted, biting his lip fiercely as he pulled Duo's head further down onto him, needing more of the hot velvety mouth on him. Duo struggled briefly, then subsided, proceeding to kill his gag reflex and deep-throat the thick arousal. Heero shouted wordlessly as Duo's throat muscles tightened about him, the American's searching hand hefting his sac. Duo closed his eyes, focusing on pleasuring Heero completely.
Duo rubbed lightly at the Japanese boy's perinium, his nose buried in slight dark curls at the base of Heero's shaft. Then he slid his fingers back towards his mouth, wetting them from the mess of saliva and bitter precum massing about his chin. Heero jerked further into Duo's mouth as the touch of cool, wet fingers at his entrance, then pressed onto the invasion as Duo jabbed into him, flawlessly stroking his prostate. Duo clutched at Heero's rear, the pilot whining at being penetrated, and Heero increased his volume, his hips rocking into Duo's lips then back onto his hand.
Duo added another finger, driving the digits into Heero's tight body mercilessly, despite Heero's cries for completion. Duo writhed from Heero's grasp, struggling to his feet, his face stained with trickles of precum and saliva. Heero kissed him hungrily, his hands fumbling at Duo's pants. Duo stripped them off himself, pulling Heero against his body for another deep, feverish kiss.
Duo pulled himself back from Heero's intoxicating mouth, unsure of Heero's reaction. The Japanese pilot panted in his arms, his face flushed with passion, then looked curiously at his lover. Duo opened his mouth to ask permission, but Heero kissed him first, his mouth sweet with heady desire. Heero drew backwards first, his eyelids fluttering unconsciously after weeks spent as a girl, and he took Duo's hand almost shyly, pulling him over to the messed bed. Heero scowled at the tangle of blankets, and yanked them to the foot of the mattress, kneeling on the bed. He hesitated, then pulled Duo down beside him.
Duo stayed silent, gauging Heero's reaction carefully. "Heero-chan...could I-" Duo began, only to be cut off by Heero's lips on his, pushing him down into the pillows. Heero left him breathless, kissing a fiery path down the American's body, thoroughly attacking every sensitive spot he had ever discovered on Duo's form. Duo groaned loudly, gasping Heero's name as he dissolved into incoherency at the Japanese boy's expert touch, then returned to focus as Heero engulfed his erection.
"Aa, ah! Heero!" Duo cried out, lifting his hips in anticipation of being taken, as usual and not exactly unwelcome...he just wished that Heero would let him occasionally be seme too. The Heero pushed his hips back down, drawing back from the thoroughly wet, glistening organ to smile shyly at Duo. The American gazed, blinking in confusion as Heero pulled him up to his knees on the bed.
"Take me," Heero hissed, rolling onto his hands and knees before Duo. The American panted, his jaw dropping, and he sighed, rubbing his face against Heero's skirt-clad rear before reverently lifting the cloth. Heero spread his legs to accomodate Duo, and the braided boy breathed hotly onto his entrance, still gleaming slightly from being probed. Heero pushed his hips backwards, arching his back, and Duo grinned, getting the hint from his impatient partner.
The American pilot smirked, spreading Heero's cheeks as said youth whined, yanking his legs further apart, desperate for Duo's touch. Duo paused, gazing at Heero's trembling body contemplatively, and Heero whimpered, begging Duo under his breath to hurry, that he needed him. Duo sighed, listening to Heero's cries as he teased the soft flesh of the boy's loin with his lips, then decided to be merciful, and he bent his head. Heero screamed softly as Duo traced his entrance with his lips, then snaked his tongue into the hot opening, tormenting him with a wet penetration, laving only a little of what he needed Duo so desperately to touch, to claim.
Duo pulled back, satisfied that Heero was as prepared as he could be, without having lube on hand, and positioned himself, his erection rubbing the spread cleft of Heero's ass. The Japanese pilot pushed back onto him, pillowing his head on his arms. Duo moaned, thanking whatever gods he still believed in for the opportunity to see his partner spread out, splayed for his touch and begging him to be taken.
Duo grasped Heero's slim hips, winding an arm about the slender boy's waist to wrap about Heero's neglected, painfully hard erection. He pushed forward at Heero's entrance, and the youth yelped, then shoved himself back onto Duo's shaft. Duo's eyes rolled back as Heero impaled himself violently, and his hips rocked into the impossibly tight, deep heat clenching him. Both pilots groaned at the action, and Duo thrust again, withdrawing first for more friction. Heero met his impalement, pushing his ass in the air. Duo thrust again, this time hitting Heero's prostate, and Heero screamed.
Duo angled to brush that sweet spot, and began a cadence of driving thrusts into the normally contained, violent pilot that was now whimpering, and writhing beneath him. Heero's parted lips began emanting a keening wail as Duo's strokes sped, pushing them both towards completion. There was banging from somewhere, but neither of the two boys heard it, or at least acknowledged it.
Duo pounded into his partner, the bed beneath them squeaking obscenely with their movements, but Heero's cries covered the noise easily enough. Duo whimpered Heero's name, his thrusts losing control, slamming into Heero's body until he felt like a puppet, his hips driving into the soft tightness of his lover, his best friend. Heero shoved back into Duo's mindless pounding, then forward into the grasp of Duo's palm, pumping jerkily at his own arousal. Duo yelled, and froze in Heero's body, hot fluid soaking his insides, and leaking from about their joining.
Heero gasped at the feeling, the skirt's fabric suddenly scratching at his back, the soaked cloth itchy, and yet...erotic? He keened as Duo pumped him, bucking into the strong hand clenching him, then he was coming, the skirt was wet and hot on his back, Duo's flesh was in him, on him holding him in the white splashes of light and the burning fluid escaping his organ...
Heero fell to the bed, Duo collapsed beside him, and he groaned, pulling himself from Duo's impaling member. Duo grinned up wearily from beside him, and Heero squirmed, cuddling against Duo's chest. He groaned as the sheets clung to the semen spilled over his legs and stomach, and Duo smirked, rolling off the bed to clean up. He returned with a wet black cloth, and Heero lay back, letting the American wipe him clean. He didn't even remember the skirt wrapped about his waist, it was bunched up thanks to Duo as it was. The braided youth cleaned himself off, and tossed the cloth to the floor nearby, settling against Heero's chest lovingly. He nipped lightly at a still-hard nub, and Heero groaned painfully, his chest arching into the caress. Duo eyed him, an amused smirk crossing his face before he drew the heavy comforters over both of them.
"Are you two quite done in there, damn it?!" Wufei yelled from outside the door. Duo nodded lazily, then realised Wufei probably couldn't see it through the door, and called out, "Hai, we're done, at least for another hour. Did we wake you?" Wufei growled at Duo's tease, and smashed something against the door, storming off down the hall. Heero shrugged, pulling Duo's head to his for a slow, sated kiss.
All works copyrighted 2000 to Engel. Don't steal.
