by Ashura

For Dark Blaze and Jay, who requested it

Disclaimer:  the usual stuff.  If I owned it, this would be animated

Warnings:  YAOI LEMON, sap, complete PWP




The clock was ticking, Heero was pacing, and every step and ticking second made his anxiety level rise.  The boy who could jump off buildings and blow himself up without so much as a second thought was practically shaking in his skin by the prospect of the mission he had set out for himself.


He was going to seduce Duo Maxwell.


The difficulty in this mission lie in one simple fact:  Heero was not only a virgin, he was clueless.  Somehow, in the vast repertoire of skills he had been trained to perfection in, his teachers had neglected to explain the basics of flirting, or seducing beautiful young men. 


Not easily deterred, Heero had decided to do some research.  His most visible example was Duo himself--the Deathscythe pilot flirted as easily as he breathed, he radiated sensuality, teased and enticed simply by being Duo.  It was an artless seduction Heero quickly realised he could never hope to emulate.  In desperation he'd turned to Trowa, whose advice had been helpful but infuriatingly vague--what Heero wanted was a plan, a chain of events and instructions and mission specifications, which Trowa was utterly unequipped to provide for him. 


"Heero--I can't possibly tell you how to seduce Duo," the Heavyarms pilot had sighed finally.  "I've given you all the help I can--but it has to come from you, or it's not going to do any good.  You don't want to get him into bed with me!"


No, Heero certainly did not, and Trowa was completely content with Quatre.  So he was on his own again.


He was not entirely pleased with the plan he had finally formulated, but incomplete as it was, it was all he had.  And his hormones were demanding action NOW, not a hundred years hence when he finally figured out what it was he wanted and how to get it.  His best hope, he had decided, was to set the wheels in motion and hope that when he reached the end of his limited knowledge, Duo would know enough to take over for him and lead him the rest of the way.


Not the best plan, but it would have to do.  Heero's brain was too clouded by the desires of his body to formulate anything more concrete.


So he was waiting, and it was driving him crazy. 


The situation was common enough.  Duo had been called away on the sort of stealthy infiltration mission that he was by far the best at.  It was simple, and not terribly dangerous or difficult.  He had departed with a cheery wave and a "Back by midnight!" and now that auspicious hour was fast approaching.  Heero had dimmed the lights--either for a romantic atmosphere, or to cover up his awkwardness, he refused to admit which--and donned tight black leather pants with his customary tanktop.  He would have done more with the shirt, too, but it was all he owned besides that ridiculous thing Relena's school used for their uniforms, and he wasn't wearing that!  He had carefully hidden everything he might need in the small drawer of his bedside table, but nervousness bade him hurry back to check on his preparations.  Just one more time.


As soon as he made it to the bedroom, he heard the door open.


"Oi, Heero!  I'm back!  Didja miss me?"  Duo announced his arrival exuberantly, as he always did, his  voice carrying to the corners of the small safehouse and ringing in Heero's soul.  "Man, I am starving!  We got anything to eat in here?"  The sound of the refrigerator opening, of drawers and cupboards banging--everything Duo did was a grand production; there were times Heero still didn't believe this was the stealthy, silent God of Death who could appear out of nowhere in a doorway, or vanish into the shadows as if he'd never been there.  "Heero?  You here?"


"Hai.  Coming."  Satisfied with his preparations, he returned to the kitchen, where Duo was half-inside the fridge, digging out jars and packages and stacking them beside it.  He adopted what he hoped was a sultry pose, resting his chin on his hands and his elbows on the countertop, leaning a little forward as he watched Duo's braid swinging with each movement.  The God of Death had not yet even turned around to see him, preoccupied as he was with creating a sandwich that even he could not possibly fit into his mouth.


"You hungry, Heero?  Want anything?"  Duo asked, still not turning, slathering mayonnaise onto the slab of bread not yet holding the rest of their food supply.  Yes, Heero thought, his mouth watering a little.  You.  I want you.  But he  couldn't have said it--the part of his brain still capable of rational thought was beginning to think better of this entire scheme.  Just take a cold shower.  Again.  You're going to make a complete fool of yourself.  There's still time to back--


"Not real talkative tonight, are you, Heero?" Duo was rambling still--it was more a joke than an observation, even if he himself was the only one who derived humour from it.  He turned around, his customary bright grin sparkling in his face.


*CRASH*.  Duo dropped the plate, sandwich and all.  It shattered, covering the kitchen floor with shards of broken glass and sticky damp tomato slices.  "Heero?"


Heero jumped.  "Gomen!  Here, I'll help--"  He hurried toward Duo and the fallen remains of the sandwich, but the braided boy waved him back.


"No, it's okay, don't worry about it, I'll get it."  Duo sounded a bit shaken himself.  Truthfully, he was, and he refused Heero's help because if the other boy got any closer, he thought he might have a heart attack.  Does he do this to torture me?  No, that isn't  fair, he's not a tease.  But oh GOD.  Heero looked..."delicious" did not begin to describe.  "Stunning" did not quite do him justice.  Duo turned around, and there he was--leaning casually against the counter, his wiry legs coated in liquid black leather, his everpresent green tank top hanging just loose enough to reveal the lines of his muscled chest, his short dark hair tousled endearingly and dangling in his eyes.  Duo hoped the puddle of drool he was sure was forming around his feet could be blamed on the sandwich.


 Heero's strategic brain recognised opportunity for what it was.  "Don't be stupid, I'll help you."  It came out a little harder than he meant it to, but the effect was the same--he knelt next to Duo on the floor, gathering up shards of broken plate, and "accidentally" brushed his hand against Duo's.  He may as well have stuck it in an electrical socket.  A jolt of sensation swept through his body at even that slight touch, clouding his judgement, obscuring thought, flooding his body with a new wave of desire so strong he let out an audible moan.


"Heero?  Are you all right?"  Duo asked quizzically, carefully relieving him of a handful of glass before he injured himself.  When no response was forthcoming, he dumped the broken plate in the wastebasket and brushed his fingers along  Heero's chin, tilting his face upward to peer worriedly into his eyes.  "Seriously, Heero--what's the matter?  Are you sick?  What is it?  You're really out of it."


"Not sick."  Heero could feel his cheeks warming with the blush that most assuredly coloured them--thank whatever God cared to listen that he'd turned down the lights.  Maybe Duo would just think he had a fever, and he could still get out of this--NO!  his body responded, entirely too conscious of the soft touch of Duo's fingers on his face, and the depth of concern in his violet eyes.  He had given himself a mission.  He would not back out!  He reached quickly for the hand that lingered against his cheek, capturing it, and pulled Duo down toward him. 


"Hee--wha--"  Heero cut off the feeble attempts at speech with a hungry, awkward, eager kiss, his tongue diving between Duo's lips to probe his mouth as the Deathscythe pilot stood rigid in shock.


At the lack of response, Heero pulled away, his cheeks burning with shame.  I blew it now.  God, what have I done?  This was a stupid idea.  If he hates me I don't know what I'll do... 


Strong, slender fingers closed around his own, preventing him from pulling any further away.   "Heero...."  Duo's voice was gentle, stunned, wondering.   "What did you do that for?"


Heero's whirling brain attempted to formulate an answer to that question that would not exacerbate the situation further.  "Gomen, Duo...."


"No."  The word was soft and firm.  "Not sorry."  Heero looked up at that, into the intoxicating depths of bottomless violet fixed in utter awe on his face.  "Heero--"  A sigh became a choke as even Duo had trouble forcing out these words.  "If you had  any idea how long I've dreamt of you doing that, you wouldn't be sorry.  But you didn't answer my question.  Why?  Do you really"


Heero, who was having difficulty connecting thoughts and words and brain and mouth, nodded wordlessly.  Duo let out a long sigh and touched his face again.  "What do you want, Heero?  Tell me.  Please."


And Heero, in brutal honesty, answered him.  "I don't know."


The corner of Duo's mouth twitched, quirking upward in a smile he tried to contain.  "Well, we're off to a great start then, aren't we?"


"I hoped--I hoped you'd show me," Heero explained falteringly.


That earned him a look of pure wonderment from a blank-faced Duo.  "You--oh, God."  The last word came out in more of a strangled moan as the braided boy seized Heero by the shoulders and pressed him back against the wall, their mouths colliding in a bruising, electrifying kiss.  Heero felt his knees go weak, closed his eyes against the swirling of his clouding vision, gripped the soft folds of Duo's shirt for everything he was worth.  The other boy's wiry, firm body pressed hungrily against his, every tingling nerve and straining muscle easily felt even beneath the thin layer of clothing that separated them.  Duo's knee bumped his thighs, nudging his legs apart, thrusting the proof of his desire against Heero's groin til the Wing pilot, dizzy with lust, thought he would either cry or scream.


"Shouldn't we...bedroom...?" he managed to gasp, clinging desperately to Duo, not quite trusting his own ability to stand. 


Duo pulled a little away, managing to look amused even through the naked lust that dominated his expression.  "I suppose we should," he agreed breathlessly.  "There's still glass on the floor, and nothin' spoils the mood quite like the wrong kind of pain...."  Heero was not coherent enough to ask him what the "right" kind of pain was, he just stumbled away from the wall, concentrating on keeping himself upright.  Duo was like a drug.  A powerful, incapacitating drug.


"Now that won't do...." The Deathscythe pilot murmured in his ear, wrapping an arm around his waist.  "We'll never make it to the bed at this rate."  The next thing Heero knew, Duo had swung him up into his arms, cradling him against his chest as he carried him toward the bedroom.


Heero, long past the point of embarrassment, merely marveled that the other boy could still walk.


Duo, part of his brain still refusing to believe that any of this was actually happening, deposited his prize onto the bed and paused for a moment to just stare in wonderment.  It was happening.  It was real.  Heero, flushed and hard and more beautiful in his arousal than Duo had even dared to dream, was sprawled on his back in the centre of the bed Duo had wanted for so long to share, reaching for him, gazing at him with unbridled lust in his deep blue eyes.  I hoped you'd show me.  The recollection of the words, of Heero's stumbling through them, of the intoxicating innocence in the Wing pilot's voice--it took all the God of Death's considerable willpower not to just pounce on him and ravish him.  But no, he was going to do this right.  He would make Heero beg, scream, and fly before this night was over.  He felt himself get harder at the mere thought.


Heero propped himself up on his elbows, looking at Duo expectantly.  "You coming?"


Duo giggled.  "Oh yeah.  And so are you.  But not yet."  He crawled over Heero, kissing him fervently, pushing him back down into the bed.  "Now just lie back and enjoy for a while, koi.  Let me play."


Heero could not have been more willing to obey.  Duo straddled his thighs, teasingly close to the erection that strained in its leather confines, and drew his hands down Heero's cotton-clad chest.  Even that touch ached, and the blue-eyed boy arched into him, pleading.  Duo's fingers toyed with his waistband, unfastening, tugging at the hem of his shirt, never quite touching his bare skin or sliding beneath the leather than encased him.  He moaned, and Duo rewarded him by slipping his tank top upward, baring his chest, lightly drawing his fingernails across his tingling skin.  He raised his arms over his head, hopeful, and Duo obliged, ridding him of the unwanted garment and tossing it unceremoniously onto the floor.  Then strong fingers closed around his wrists, pressed his hands into the mattress, and the end of a long braid tickled his chest as Duo bent to swirl his tongue around one taut nipple.  "I said just let me play," he reprimanded gently, accenting his  words with a nip at Heero's chest that made him whimper, his body writhing in urgent need against the slender form stretched atop his own.


The sensation  was unbearable, unbelievable, intoxicating.  Duo's mouth toyed with his nipples, his tongue swirled along flushed skin, drawing a damp trail of teasing kisses down the length of his chest.  Heero's moans and gasps melted together into a long string of incoherent pleading tones as that mouth meticulously set his body aflame.  By the time Duo straightened, peeling Heero's pants slowly from his legs, the Wing pilot was trembling, rendered unable to do any more than watch and obey Duo's gentle instruction to 'just lie back and enjoy.' 


He almost screamed when Duo swallowed him--the hot wetness of the other boy's mouth enveloping his throbbing shaft, his tongue flicking light teasing circles around the head and then the harder, rougher suction that made his cock writhe in Duo's mouth of its own accord.  He watched his lover's head bob and move against him til his vision blurred white at the edges, and he felt warmth gathering in his body, centred at his groin.


"Not yet, lover," Duo admonished gently, lifting his head away, leaving Heero's body straining in disappointment and lust.  Heero wanted to scream, but it came out as a strangled, desperate cry.


"Please--Duo, please, please--"  He babbled, reaching for the boy whose body was even now lifting away from him, capturing the end of a long chestnut braid.


"I'm not goin' anywhere," Duo promised, his voice husky, freeing his hair from Heero's grasp.  "Just gettin' a little hot myself, that's all...."  As the orgasmic fog cleared from Heero's eyes he could watch the god of death--for god he certainly appeared--shedding his shirt, letting it drop from his body, followed not soon enough by black trousers and boxer shorts til he was standing gloriously nude and frustratingly out of Heero's reach.


"Hair?" mumbled Heero, hoping that single syllable communicated the question he hoped to convey. 


A smile broke across Duo's face, and he tugged long chestnut locks free of their confining braid.  "You like it down?" he asked, surprised and pleased, and Heero nodded eagerly.  His fondest fantasies had involved Duo's hair, falling around him, cloaking him, brushing against his skin.... He reached out again in wordless entreaty, and the violet-eyed boy obliged, crawling atop him again and claiming his lips in a fervent kiss.


"Duo?" Heero forced the word out, muffled it in their mouths, thrust his tongue between his lover's lips.   At the other boy's answering moan, he whispered pointedly, "I want you to show me everything...."


Duo's response was an inarticulate moan, as he grabbed Heero's shoulders roughly and pushed himself up over the dizzy Wing pilot.  Maybe I'm dead.  That's it. I'm dead, I'm in Heaven--that mission was harder than I thought.  Or I'm dreaming.  God.  Who cares.  He nudged Heero's legs apart and settled himself between them, still spreading fire-blossom kisses over every inch of flushed, hot skin.  His world was spinning out of control and he didn't want to stop it--didn't even want to try.  He slipped a finger inside Heero and was rewarded with a pleading cry and Heero's erection leaping into his other hand.  He pumped the boy's weeping member roughly, reveling in each urgent moan he elicited from those luscious lips.  Heero was too distracted by pleasure to notice when one finger became two, and then three, his body arcing toward the ceiling, his ragged breathing a testament to his own desire.


"Duo--" It was no more than a gasp, a whispered prayer.  "Fuck me, Duo, please--"  It was also more than the longhaired boy's tattered self-control was capable of withstanding.  He bent forward to kiss Heero tempestuously, the edges of his comprehension blurring as he fumbled for the bedside drawer, coated himself and Heero, then hooked the other boy's legs over his shoulders.  Heero writhed beneath him, trying to impale himself on Duo's pulsing shaft, and Duo wanted nothing more than to oblige him.  But he didn't want to hurt him, either--so mustering his abused willpower once again, he forced himself to drive in slowly, to let his virgin lover's body adjust to his presence.


Heero's body wanted nothing more than to have Duo inside it.  The pain was negligible, the pleasure excruciating.  He rocked against the slow, deliberate movements--too slow, too slow!  "Harder," he whimpered, reaching futilely upward, trying to grab Duo and yank him into action.  "Please."


The last vestiges of Duo's battered control crumbled and fell away.  He thrust against Heero, impaling him.  He drowned in the cries of intense, mind-numbing pleasure that echoed in his ears as he pounded into his lover, rhythm giving way to desperation as they spiraled together into euphoria.


Fog and white fire converged within Heero again, and he screamed Duo's name to the stars as his body convulsed, showering them both in his warm seed, his head thrown back, his arms splayed to his sides.  The sight of Heero's passion, and the sound of his name on those lips, was all it took for Duo to join him, emptying himself into his lover, trembling with the force of his own orgasm.  Heero freed himself, wrapping his arms around Duo and clinging to him, his face more relaxed and peaceful than Duo remembered ever seeing it before.  Their damp, sticky bodies collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, heartbeats gradually slowing, ragged breathing finally easing into the daze of afterglow.


Heero nuzzled into the hollow of Duo's neck, mumbling something.


"Hm?" Duo asked, kissing the tousled mop of dark hair that tickled his chin.


"I said, mission accomplished," Heero slurred sleepily.


A tolerant smile quirked Duo's lips. "So I was a mission, was I?" he said in mock affront, tightening his arms around the body spooned against his own.


Heero twisted in his arms to smile up at him.  Heero seldom smiled, and the sight took Duo's recently-regained breath away.  "Aa.  But if it makes you feel better, I have another mission for tomorrow," he said, pausing expectantly.


Duo recognised the hint for what it was.  "What mission?"


Heero, looking pleased with himself, kissed him before answering.  "Tomorrow I show you  how well I learned," he explained smugly.


Duo laughed in delight, capturing Heero's lips for a lingering kiss.  "Then tomorrow, koi," he teased gently, "I suggest you let me eat first."