Archivist's note: Written for Moments of Rapture's fifth anniversary.

Happy Idling
by MeritJubet

Duo is breathing shallowly, eyes half lidded as he regards Heero with increasing desire. His toes are clenching, and he is almost startled by the cramp that develops. He hasn't moved in a while. He doesn't plan on moving, no -- not for a while.

He's unaware of the deepening of the flush around his inner thighs. How his eyes are darkening, focusing with intensity. His braid is coming undone, loose strands breaking free. The hair paints a spider web pattern across his skin, ending near his hips.

His dick is swollen, purple and is rising with every minute. Fingers, smudged with some oil and nails short and trimmed, rest on his hip. Finger tangling with his hair, the tied off end scratchy and rougher and tougher than the top of his head.

Lips part, wet with bite marks hastily imprinted on pink flesh. His lower lips is fuller than his upper, and blood gushes more freely there, redder and more tart, slick with want.

Teeth mainly hidden by the depths and shadows of his mouth rest on his lower lip for a moment. Press down. Duo swallows then. Adam's apple bobbing in a barred throat, chin lifted defiantly. A trail of sweat sliding, sliding down his throat onto his collar bone, resting there in the shallows and dips.

Heero catches his breath, hands tightening around his pencil. For a moment the pencil wavers, and Heero almost loses his grip. Watching.

Watching Duo lick his lips, a challenging, triumphant glint in his eyes. Staring with increasing lust as Duo's body exhibits his own pleasure. Viewing the want in Duo's body, wanting it more and more.

"One hand grasping a hip, hair caressing skin," Heero begins, not sure of what to say. Mind frantically settling on what he sees. Heero notes that Duo's fingers grip his hip harder, and that he shudders momentarily.

He picks up his pencil and sketches out Duo's hip, the jutting bones, the curves and angles and shadows. "Dipping into a hard muscled stomach," he continues. Eyes narrowing as Duo's stomach muscles clench and release.

The pencil darts across the page, and when Heero looks up, Duo is watching the pencil intently. "Down a leg," and his voice has gotten huskier. "Knees bent, legs wide and open..."

Duo legs stretch, a ripple of muscle from the top of his thighs to his ankles. Toes curl, and Duo has a big grin of his face. Duo's dick is getting harder, bigger.

Heero's eyes rest of Duo's face. Eyes, mouth, nose, cheeks -- everything, everything a normal person has. Not anyone makes Heero hard. Duo gives Heero a welcoming wink, ready, waiting, willing.

The pencil shifts, bangs are drawn in. Sweaty and lopsided, and -- "Are you coming, Heero?"

The pencil and paper is released from his fingers. Heero stands, stretching and nods. "Yeah," because's he's hard and Duo's hard and they have time and a place to fuck.

Duo later frames the picture. Heero hangs it up in their bedroom.