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Hello! Well, here is my entry for the 2005-06 Competition -- Enjoy! There is a little info about me under this bit. Feel free to read or just go straight on to the story if you want.
Name: Space Heart Angel
Pairing: Heero/Duo -- very, very brief mention of Trowa/Quatre
Never Say Never Again
::Duo's POV:: Just my fucking luck. Never, EVER let Heero have his way. Here I am, stuck in the back of an OZ truck, freezing myself stupid. The wind is howling outside and I can barely see through the frost-covered window to see layer upon layer of pristine white snow piling up on the ground beneath me. My teeth are chattering as I draw my knees up to my chest for (meagre) warmth. Trust me to be the decoy. I would have thought the engine would have been some comfort, but no avail. This tin-can of a fucking truck probably won't last the first mile. The snow is coming down in sheets as I shunt myself in a corner, afraid that any type of movement would cruelly relieve me of my warmth... which is in ridiculously low supply. Ugh. Since when did I become a waxing poetic? Well... as they say, you write the best poetry when you're intensely depressed; or at least heading that way with a runny nose and feeling so incredibly sorry for yourself. (rumble!) Hm... looks like we're moving. Oh, brilliant. The wind's made it even worse. And I've never missed seatbelts so much in my entire fifteen years of existence. I can just imagine myself in a humiliating video for I Fought the Law. Usually, being the God of Death and all, the Law doesn't win... except for this one occasion. The norm is for everything that gets me ticked off or stands in my way gets eliminated. No fuss, no nada. A walk in a park -- one that I absolutely loathe taking. But I have no other choice; not if it means total peace for the colonies. It's kill or be killed. "Ah!! Fucking hell!" I clutch my head in agony, as we hit a particularly nasty bump in the road (however, I'd like to blame it on this OZ soldier's crappy driving, no matter how untruthful that claim may be... idiot.). Ugh... it's throbbing like only God knows what. My eyes are almost streaming with tears, and the pain in my head is so intense I could scream. Instead, I keep it to a low grunt. To add to my shitty luck, the driver still hears me. (whack!) "Shut up back there!" Out of spite for this soldier, I stick my tongue out at him. He looks peeved, but he knows as much as I know that he has to concentrate on the road rather than me. Hehe. I smile as I turn back to face the window, happy with my lowbrow teasing. One more thing hits my mind as I realise that my 'cuffs are digging painfully into my wrists. Unfortunately, they're behind my back, so I can't do anything about it. I'm not like a certain Mr. Yuy who can pop his broken leg back into place without even a fucking peep out of him. I sigh and watch the strangely pretty white mist curl up and disappear into the air. I can remember constantly doing this as a little kid, playing in the snow with Solo and the other war orphans. I've always shoved painful memories into the back of my mind, to leave them there to wither away in obscurity, so that others couldn't see the agony I'd gone through behind my trademark smile. Without that I feel devoid of all humanity and life. I think we've stopped... I can't feel the rumble of the engine anymore. I can also hear the crunching of snow under labouring footsteps coming my way. The doors swing open, bringing a harsh wind with it that hits your face with the ferocity of a hundred knives. I squint my already raw eyes slightly, trying to keep my face straight with as much contempt as I could muster. "Get out." He points with his thumb to the blank, white landscape. I can see in his eyes that something's missing. I can't put my finger on what, but something crucial is missing from his soul. I know that somehow I've managed to keep it, but with no idea how. It's actually pretty frightening now that I think about it. I'm snapped out of my reverie as he repeats the worn-out phrase a second time. Shifting my numb legs out of my sitting position, I swing them over the edge of the storage compartment. We must have been travelling for an hour, at least. I can feel an arm on my elbow, and I have an almost irresistible urge to shake it off and give him a glare to end all glares. Maybe even one that could rival Heero's. Heero... He's been on my mind a lot recently... through all of the hiding, brushes with death, he was always there with me. If I got in a tight spot, he'd get me out. Vice versa for that, too. Sometimes, out of the corner of my eye, I would spot soulful pools of blue, just flickering so slightly between cobalt and Prussian, as he laid his hand on the window of the observation deck. The stars always amazed him... how they could always sparkle with such beauty and sincerity, while such murderous and malicious plans were being carried out on the Earth that it blanketed with its joy and awe. I unconsciously know that he still has some sort of being left inside of him that lets him feel what any ordinary human would feel. Compassion, sympathy, pity, regret... even love. Please come for me, Heero...
::Heero's POV:: Everything's going to plan. I just need to rearrange these two wires and we're ready to go. With more than a little reluctance from Duo, I persuaded him to be the decoy. "Why can't YOU be the decoy for once?" he replied, crossing his arms in a huff. Maybe I should replace 'persuaded' with 'forced him as a last resort'. For some imperceptible reason, I didn't want to make him do it. I didn't particularly want to do it myself, but that wasn't the reason I made him do it. I was only thinking of our mission, our futures. Getting up off the cold, strangely sterile floor, I dust off my knees and calmly walk out. In my head I systematically sift through the stages; what has been done, what needs to be done, and problems are all kept in separate categories. Duo's commented on my way of thinking before. "Man! You're like a fucking robot! What did they TEACH you when you were a kid?!" I often couldn't tell between his playful thinking and his serious thoughts on something. However, this was before I told him about my past... and before he told me about his. The air around me is cold enough to make me shiver. It's even painful to breathe in, but nothing I can't handle. Shit. Guards. I dive back into the shadow, pressing against the metal structure to keep hidden. The darkness of space helps me to meld into the obscurity. I hold my breath as the two guards walk past, chatting idly. One thing that pisses me off immensely is when soldiers don't do their jobs properly. Idiots. Not much of a challenge. I run silently down the dimly lit halls, the scattered light bouncing off the metal like moonlight. It colours me blue, causing a slightly dream-like, surreal atmosphere. I can't get distracted now. I have to keep going. Shaking off my previous thoughts, I keep running down the halls to the shuttle bay. It's eerily silent, the only sound being the machinery that worked deep inside the heart of the colony reverberating against the cold metal. I'm faced with a run-of-the-mill keypad. Heh. I've seen these before -- they don't do jack-shit. All it needs is one good whack with the elbow... Such poor security. It's pitiful how easy it is to break into this place. The pad shatters into pieces as keys fly here and there, electricity discharging every so often. But it does the trick; I shift the giant, Pittsburgh-steel door to the side with a grunt, just enough to slide my frame through. I keep my eye on the outside, just to ensure that I wasn't seen. I mull over my plan in my head. Steal a shuttle, rescue Duo from the Corsican base, blow up OZ base; simple as. Hm... I would have used the word 'retrieve' instead of 'rescue'... why is it that I treat Duo differently from everyone else? I just need to get this door open... I have to think on my feet. With a spark of inspiration, I take out and old, black hairpin that Duo lent me. The impromptu surge of memory causes me to stop and feel the curves, the flecks of rust and tarnished colour. A flood of memory swarms my senses -- his scent, the texture of his skin, his hair... something I'd never really cared to take notice of before. Why now? Why here? To me, this is a sign of almost failure. I can't let my emotions overtake my current objectives. I've known that for years... but why is this feeling overwhelming me now, of all times? And why do I like it? ::Duo's POV:: I'm looking up at the sky. It's clear, dark and beautiful, like a blanket of crushed midnight blue velvet, dotted with stars... A far cry when you're stuck in a rotting cell with a pain in your stomach the size of Texas. That bastard of an OZ Soldier punched me in the stomach when he came at me with a pair of scissors. Threatened to cut my braid off, too. So naturally, I think, "No-one touches Duo's hair!" and kicked him in the vital areas. Easy-peasy, eh? The bars that are fixed against the windows remind me of what a sad, paranoid world we live in. It also reminds me of the countless situations like this one that Heero has been with me. Not a great talker, I can tell you. But then again, a lot of people like him aren't the chatty types. But it would be of some comfort just to have someone in the same boat here with me. I can imagine the moonlight hitting his frame, strengthening and sharpening the definition of his muscles even further, razor-sharp cheekbones aching to be caressed... What am I thinking? Hm... I'm not going to beat around the bush. There's not really much point, not when you're completely alone in a cell with nothing to do. I guess... well, yeah. I guess I have fallen in love with him. I've secretly admired him -- but that was before I realised. I admired his strength, his versatility, his straight-forward thinking... I even got slightly jealous. Not to the point of malice, but I was slightly pissed off that I didn't have that, no matter how hard I tried. It all stemmed from there. I noticed the way he walked, his quirks, how he made this weird funny face when he was thinking or concentrating. His trademark 'baka' that kind of became my nickname, even if it was meant to be an insult. But the insults have kind of dwindled down to playful barter, even if he doesn't realise it. It even took me a while. My heart would race every time his hand brushed against my wrist, and my breath would hitch in my throat if he examined me after a botched mission. Just his hand grazing against my skin, calloused fingers stroking my wounds with soft concern and attention gave me a high that made me feel giddy. Not all the time, but there's content in my heart when he's even in the same room as me, even when I'm not his focus of attention. He's supposed to come for me right about now. He should have stolen a shuttle about ten minutes ago; I'm just crossing my fingers that everything has gone alright. I know that I have to tell him sometime -- maybe it's just the silly human reaction of paranoia, but I feel like I really shouldn't tell him. I'm torn about whether I should listen to my gut or my heart... two sources of conscience that are linked to my brain. Why is each having an equally important say? Why can't I choose one over the other? This is killing me. I feel like I'll die inside if I don't tell him, but I know that I'll feel exactly the same if I do tell him and he rejects me. Fear of rejection! That's it. This is how I should be feeling if I wasn't in this war; if I didn't have to go through this hell every minute of every day. A reflex action that stops anyone from hurting me again. And I know it's just going to start all over again tomorrow. But I feel that I may have to let down that barrier to get my point across... even if it's for a futile cause. Obviously, I really hope not, but I know better than to get my hopes up; doing that just leads to pain for the most part. I may be an idiot for that most part, but I do take pride in my sense of intuition. To be honest, it's one of the few things I take pride in now that I've become the God of Death. Being said killer isn't something you particularly want to shout about. Sometimes, loving someone goes way beyond just being with them. In some cases, being away from them is the best way to love them; to protect them without even touching them. I've made up my mind. When the time is right, I will tell him. If he rejects me, I'll have to learn to live with it and love him the only way I can -- being the person in the background, blurry and inhuman. If he accepts me... Well, I'll do the same, won't I? I'll just be. ::Heero's POV:: I'm en route -- on my way home. Home is a word with many facets of meaning; many that don't apply to me or are somehow tragically skewed with malice. But I now consider Earth my home. I don't care which country I'm in or what language I have to speak, just as long as I'm there. It just feels like a relief to breathe in natural air or feel the effects of natural night and day, watching the sun rise when you wake up and can't go back to sleep. I'm drifting silently through a vacuum of stars, planets and various orbital matter. To the ordinary person, it wouldn't look like anything special. But there is much more depth and meaning to space than you would think... like its history. Scientists in heated debates about how it all started billions of years ago; understanding something that is before and beyond our lifetimes. I often apply this to the people I know; how illogical they are. I was scared of them -- they didn't think like me, didn't agree with me. It scared me fucking stupid. One person that intrigues me and frightens me the most is Duo Maxwell. I know I shouldn't be this way with him. I'm stronger, probably smarter... but I can't get my head around how he is. How he can go through every day with that peculiar smile on his face, without a care in the world. I'm sure that there is at least one thing that tries to throw him off, but he still beams that smile. He's got something higher. I can't quite think of the word, but it's his determination, his... Courage. That's the word. I don't have courage; I have an empty metal shell and a single mechanism that forces me to kill, to follow orders and complete the mission. Courage and mundane process that lead to the same goal are two very different, very unique things. Duo has the better, more special type. Courage. I've decided that I like this word. The things he hangs on to and yet has let go of, while I have let go of everything. All in all, even though we are in this war together and have suffered hardships in the past, I think he has a better life than I do. Why? Because he makes it that way. He makes it that way. Duo, can you make me happy? I need someone to make me feel happy again; it's been such a long time since I felt that. The fluttery feeling in my stomach, a smile spreading across my face so fast that I just can't stop, the urge to laugh and hug the person nearest and dearest to me. I shove the shuttle door open, having taken care of the guard that followed me in. I jump out and crawl into the vent shaft, only vaguely registering the cramped conditions and slight dampness that was causing my tank top to stick to my skin uncomfortably. Pulling myself against the friction of the rusting metal, I look for a place to turn and exit. With considerable difficulty, I turn and exit legs-first into the cell beneath me, wishing myself all the luck in the world that I've landed in the right one. This isn't something that I usually do; but for once, I want my heart's instinct to lead the way. And I think it's lead me to the right one. ::Duo's POV:: He's found me! I have the irresistible urge to fling my arms around his neck and hug him stupid. I try to battle the feeling down, but it's too late by the time I try -- I've already done it. "Whoa! Calm down!" He replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "They'll hear us if you're not careful!" I back down, feeling a little guilty and discomfited. "Sorry... I'm just happy that you've come for me." He looks confused by this. "Why? You knew I was coming for you. You'd be the decoy to support my infiltration, I'd come and rescue you and then we head back to the safehouse to meet Trowa and Quatre." This makes me feel really silly. I look away, feeling embarrassed with myself. To add to that, he completely missed my point. "What makes you think I'd leave you here?" -- Or did he? My head snaps up immediately; a scarlet blush covers my cheeks, but I can't stop looking at him. I am completely stopped in my tracks and can't reply. He walks over to me and tilts my chin up so slightly. For a soldier that's been in war for as long as he can remember, his touch is surprisingly soft, gentle, knowing. It lingers under my chin for a matter of seconds, before relocating to my cheek. The warm palm is a welcome feeling to my skin. "I'd never leave you..." Those four words are music to my ears. The whole atmosphere is still quiet and reserved. I want to react, but my feet are firmly stuck to the floor. My heart is slamming against my ribs almost to the point of pain. "I've never said this before to anyone, but..." He sighed. I could tell that this was difficult for him to say. "There are some things in life that are more important than just tools to what you have to do. You're not just a tool to me, Duo. You're... you're a friend -- a very dear friend. But I need... I want... something bigger. Higher. Better. With you." His eyes are heavy-lidded. I feel something phantom and exciting and terrifying take over me, all at the same time -- and I like it. It's the greatest feeling in the world. His hand leaves my face slowly, but with reluctance. I suppress the urge to whimper my disappointment. I can tell that something has spoken between us; no matter how many spoken languages we know, this type of language cannot be translated so that someone else can understand in a mundane, surfaced way; only the two people who experience feelings for each other can communicate silently, yet fluently. (boom! crash!) My eyes snap out of Heero's gaze as I hear something heavy move, accompanied by footsteps. "Heero! They're checking the cells! We can't let them see you!" I hiss, grabbing his arms frantically. I look around for a hiding place and direct him under the bunk bed. I wince inwardly. Sorry, Heero... I definitely owe you one later for this. From experience, I can tell you it is definitely not pleasant under there. I hurriedly chuck myself any old how on top of the bed, again wincing and feeling awful for Heero, who now has to deal with my extra weight on top of him. I'm not incredibly heavy, but all I have to say is that I'm absolutely not light either. I hope he can breathe... The guard shoves open my door with formidable force and glares with all his might when he catches sight of me. "Oh. You're still here," My eyebrows furrowed in offence to this remark. "I can't be rid of that easily, pal." The guard gave a shrill, monosyllabic laugh to the air. "I wish! I wouldn't have to deal with difficult little fuckers like you who won't take orders." I laugh defiantly. I'm not laughing just out of spite; I'm also pissing myself laughing at the particularly weak retort. A ten-year-old could do better than that. "What's the hold-up, eh? When are you gonna let me out of here?" It's a stupid question, but one I can't resist asking. I relax my back against the cracked, chipped brick wall and close my eyes. "Not something for you to know." He pauses and I open one eye cautiously. "But, then again, I could tell you... at a price," He swaggers over me. I have to swallow down the rapidly rising ball of bile in my throat. "Oh yeah? Give me the currency and it's yours." I reply in monotone. Oh, don't you worry, I'm not that thick that I don't know what he's really getting at -- sex. His hand passes over my leg as he leans over me. I don't even want to look at him, but I'm stuck. I turn my head away to get away from all of this, but he misreads the move and takes advantage of my exposed skin, kissing me longingly. Now, I have to say that my neck has never been a weak spot, and I utterly and thoroughly feel like kicking him now. (squeak! tap! thwack!) "Gaa!!" The pervert falls to the floor with a sickening thud, spots of blood appearing on his lips, spattering the putrid green floor. I look at him, then back at Heero who is standing in front of me, slightly breathless, his face radiating concern and possessive care. I smile my thanks and point to the open vent above us. "Now, why didn't I think of that?" I grin cheekily. ::Heero's POV:: That's the most part of the mission done. Duo was surprisingly pleased to see me, hugging me instantly as soon as I landed on the floor of his cell. I learned that he thought that I wasn't going to come back for him. So I did what that little voice in the back of my mind told me to do -- I followed my emotions. I told him what he is to me. The sick guard is now taken care of, so we climb up into the vent shaft that I entered by. Trowa and Quatre contacted me by vidlink not that long ago to tell me that their part of the mission was a success with little out of the ordinary. I swear, they're joined at the hip these days. Maybe it's their lives that I'm jealous. Even during battle, they're pretty inseparable. Always looking out for each other and not forgetting what they were there for, their sense of duty. Whenever the other was injured, the one remaining would rush to their side. If a bullet was racing towards one, the other would take the shot, effectively risking their lives. I was always stunned, horrified, and ultimately respected them for their sense of intuition and bravery. Then I learned that there was something more -- topping most of this was their love for one another. And I became isolated and lonely knowing that I just wasn't capable of that. But if Trowa can do it, why can't I? I knock a grid-metal vent cover out of the way, not caring to bother about the noise it makes due to no one being there. I hold out my hand to Duo, who is in an awkward position by being on his front, within a space where he can hardly turn left or right. "Here, take my hand," I call up to him, offering my arm in the air. He takes it willingly, gripping my wrist. He jumps down vigorously, landing directly in front of me. My hand slips into his, feeling every crevice and line on his hand, his warmth, the softness of his skin. He strokes the tops of my fingers, his eyes wondering from our hands to my eyes. We eventually have to move, since blowing up an OZ base means that we can't be in it. We sprint down the halls, and I silently thank whatever's out there for the quiet, empty hallways. Ending up in the bright outdoors, I feel thankful for the sun's glow on my face, realising just how much I missed it. It's a deep contrast to space, and also to what we are just about to do. "Ready, Duo?" I ask, slightly breathless from running. He gives me the thumbs-up and his trademark grin brightens his features. "Since the day I was born," He replies. Even in contrast to what we were just about to do, his smile and tenacity is infectious. I press the button as we watch behind cover. Mission complete. ::Duo's POV:: That's it! Over! Kaboom! Finished! Finito! I even make up words for the word 'finished' for the sake of it. The base goes up in a mushroom cloud of delayed sound, actually being quite tidy for a vast explosion in my opinion. But still, we've completed this mission -- still something to celebrate. (beep! beep!) My vidlink is going off. I take out the small, compact screen and answer. "Yo!" My standard greeting. Quatre is there, his sunny smile filling the screen. Trowa is behind him, obviously happy that we've gotten out safely. "Duo! I assume it went well?" I click my fingers and laugh. "Snap! Went off without a hitch. Thanks for your concern. We're on our way home." I say, carefree happiness returning to my voice and my heart. "Great. Have a safe trip -- we'll see you back at the safehouse." I say my goodbyes, turning to Heero. What surprises me is that he's smiling. A true, genuine smile that would make the hardest heart melt. "Home sounds like a excellent idea." I smile back. It feels... indescribable.
We arrive back at the safehouse, greeted by warmth, dryness and Trowa and Quatre. Quatre embraces me in a long-lasting hug and Trowa gives me a curt nod, accompanied by a small smile. It's actually a sign of immense happiness for Trowa, even if he is pretty much a constant mute. They're an odd pair, but at the same time I can't imagine them with anyone else. They're pretty much stuck together like glue these days! Heero trails in with me, not actually looking sullen and reserved like usual. It's like something has opened up inside him, something that I can't get him to explain or show to me, but I know that it's there. "How'd it go on your end?" I ask, a pretty feeble attempt at starting conversation. I can tell that this one won't last very long, even though I feel safest and most at home talking. You can guess how much everyone else's ears hurt. "Okay. Nothing went wrong. I'm just glad that I don't have to do this anymore..." He runs a hand through his impossibly blond hair, sighing in a tired tone. "All the memories come flooding back, y'know?" I know exactly what he feels like. In summation, you feel like shit. Not just physically, but like the whole thing has ripped up your soul into shreds. It's really a horrible feeling. However, I still get a high on knowing that I won't have to do this for much longer. It's always been hard to sleep at night, knowing what I did during the day. The others have told me that I have woken up screaming before -- and it's not one of those horrible dreams that you forget after about three minutes; it's in fact the complete opposite, and you can't shake it off, no matter how hard you try. But that's why I have everyone else -- they're going through exactly the same thing, everyday; and they know that it won't get better if they're on their own. I know that I'm definitely not on my own. ::Heero's POV:: I'm relieved to stop. I look around the safehouse, seeing my friends and my only family. I can't help but smile. Trowa and Quatre go to spend time with each other; I asked why, since they'd been with each other for the whole duration of the mission; they replied that war doesn't let you love someone like when you have all the time in world. Duo looks at me with a quiet curiosity. "Anything wrong?" He asked me tentatively, something that I wouldn't expect from an excessively chatty braided baka. "Nuh-uh." I grunt, not feeling up to replying properly. I can tell that this is one of those times where I expose my small bouts of lousy lying skills. I get on with making hot drinks, just anything to keep me occupied. Duo again eyes me with a certain wonder, an interest that no one else shows. He wants to know what I'm thinking, what makes me tick. To be honest, I don't even know the answers to those questions myself. "What if I wanted to know what you're thinking?" He asked, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes. His hands don't stray from his pockets, where they've been since the moment we got back there. That was an hour ago. "I usually wouldn't let you." I purposely put the 'usually' in there. I glance back at him -- my heart jumps into my throat when I see his look of deflated disappointment. His eyes darken, the sparkle of amethyst disappearing in an instant. I have to walk over. He senses me approaching, and it's like it was choreographed to happen. As I walk over, he walks backwards to rest his back against the wall. The dim light adds to the gradually more relaxing atmosphere as my left hand comes to rest next to his head, the other settling lightly on his hip. He doesn't even flinch -- not once. In fact, everything works in harmony with each other, one thing following the other. He doesn't resist my proximity -- in fact, I think he's welcoming it. My body presses against his, the warm sensation overwhelming my senses. I can feel every curve and characteristic of his body, every stretch of muscle, how we seem to meld together as our bodies fit perfectly into one. I lean in, slowly, and kiss him lightly; just as slowly. He's soft, warm and delicious, each second lasting a lifetime. I feel that this was rapture is meant to be like; although I'm not there yet. I'm just feeling it, touching the gates to paradise. We steadily close our eyes; the world seems obsolete, empty, a passing blur of colours and pictures and memories. His tongue glides over my lips, asking for permission to explore new, previously forbidden territory. Like he needs it. We explore each other, joining and moving as one. A series of short, dazzling, intense kisses are showered over my lips as I inhale sharply -- not out of pain, but out of the opposite; pleasure. Something I haven't experienced in a long time. I move my lips away from his and work my way up his neck, an immense feeling of satisfaction washing over me as I listen intently to his soft, low moans as I trail kisses across and up his neck. He grips the clothing on my back with vigour as my hands roam across my body, thrusting his neck upwards in what I perceive to be pure, untainted bliss. It's happened... and I've never felt happier. ::Duo's POV:: It's happened... and I've never felt happier. He's here, kissing me, ultimately loving me. He kisses me softly at first, tentatively, waiting for my reaction. I don't really show one, but the amount that I show him tells him that it's okay, that I want this as much as he does. Time seems to cease existence, but at the same time speeds up almost unfathomably. Our kissing becomes harder, more urgent. He presses up against me, his hips digging into mine. Whether he means to do that, I don't know. I'm pinned up against the wall, trapped between Heero and a hard place. It's not at all bad. He runs his hands through my hair, his eyes showing a new darkness. His pupils dilate to a mere pinprick of black, while dark, midnight blue takes over. An array of blues -- Prussian, azure, cobalt, sea, sky. I can see lust, tabooed pleasure and love that have glazed them over, just like mine. He runs his tongue along my neck, not quite kissing, just enough to ignite my skin with the flame of passion. I hiss and expose more of my neck to allow him better access. It's the first time and the most that I have ever trusted a person, let alone let them touch my body. He runs his hands down the outer sides of my thighs, surprising me a little when he elevates me to rest on his hips. I wrap my arms around his neck, knowing and relishing where this will probably lead to.
He lays me down, slowly and carefully, onto the bed, crawling over me as he does so. I feel like everything has been delayed, created, prepared for this. Before I know it, I'm stripped of the top half of my clothing. I don't know where I end and Heero begins. His body fuses with mine as we writhe, explore, search. I can feel him touch me, those sensitive spots that need his attention the most. Not around them, or too softly; just right. Perfection. I know that I've been waiting for this. Everything is silent, a place of learning. He kisses all the way down my chest, sparing no time to kiss my sides, each curve and crevice he can find of exposed skin. I notice that his skin tone is slightly different than mine, a little more tanned. I watch all the scars of previous battles twist and stretch in the moonlight, my fingers running over them slowly. Where past hurt has healed. But the memories never go away, leaving scar tissue. I pull him close to me, his chest heaving over mine as we attach to each other, his head resting in the crook of my neck, still kissing me with tired passion. It's been a long day, but boy, it's been worth it. I don't want anything to change, even though that's bound to happen. The planets move slightly more in orbit, tectonic plates shift -- whoever said that the earth is always the same is just ignorant. Naturally, I welcome change; but not this time. He inhales slowly and deeply, a luxurious sound that emanates from his throat. He exhales softly, cuddling into me. He's telling me something. You're so beautiful. I love you so much. Please, don't change. You mean more to me than anything else in the world. I would die for you. I reply. Look who's talking. I love you too. I promise I won't. Same to you. So do you. So would I. We lay there, a tangled mess of bodies and sheets, warmth and the heavy, low-hung haze of passion was still there. I start singing an old song I learned years ago.
Don't let me stray And I'll never say never again.
The End |
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