Sequel to Asphyxiated.

Of course, that didn't stop Heero from indulging himself, especially since it seemed very unlikely that he'd manage to do much better. It was strange, considering that he'd always assumed that desires such as this were trivial things he didn't need to concern himself with. He had seen Relena relentlessly throw herself at him many times, only to find such behavior flummoxing and grotesque. Perhaps that was the reason he was reluctant to make his needs more apparent to Duo.

Or maybe there was just something wrong with him entirely.

That had to be it, he figured -- and not even because it was apparently not normal for one boy to yearn for another. Some kind of paranoia within him warned that he was incapable of going about common things such as interpersonal relationships, and because of that, he worked extra hard to repress himself in public lest he do something thoroughly embarrassing. Especially after seeing how easy Duo made that kind of thing look, Heero was certain he was destined for failure at it. He was determined not to fall into the same trap Relena had: he thought she was far too free with her affections, and, frankly, it was probably going to get her killed.

So when Duo approached Heero one day while they were lying low, and casually asked him to help with some programming errors he'd been having with Deathscythe's mainframe, Heero was so painfully overwhelmed by the request, he practically froze on the spot. Damn Duo for acting like favours could be handed out like free candy!

"Aw, you mean I have to troubleshoot it myself?" Duo drooped when Heero automatically refused his first plea. He quickly readjusted his tactics, knowing that Heero only pretended like he was a bad ass half the time. Flinging an arm around Heero's very tense shoulders, he dragged their torsos together and knocked their foreheads together as he whispered loudly, "But what if something happens before I get a chance to fix the problem, and then Deathscythe can't keep up with you? I mean" -- here he squeezed Heero's shoulder and dropped the volume of his voice slightly -- "even modest Heero Yuy has to be able to admit that he's the fastest computer whiz this side of Mars...."

"Don't get cute with me," Heero growled, prying Duo's arm off and flinging it away. He took a giant step away from the longhaired pilot to further emphasize his decision, though it had more to do with saving his own ass than any concern as to whether or not he could do what Duo had asked. It was bad enough having to share sleeping space with Duo, but being asked to spend even a few hours in Deathscythe's cockpit was too much: Duo came to life -- became himself -- in that pilot's seat, and Heero hated to think how he'd react if he was left to his own devices there.

Frustrated, Duo furrowed his eyebrows and puffed out his cheeks. "Oh come on," he protested. "I know you did the exact same shit to Sandrock less than a week ago. I don't see why you're so selective with your douchiness."

"Respect. I'm selective with my respect," Heero retorted, crossing his arms. "I respect you enough to be able to do it without any help from me."

Duo let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he scratched the skin just behind his left ear. "Should have figured as much," he muttered to himself as he sent a wayward glance in the direction of the hangar where the Gundams were docked. "Just when I thought you were starting to like me, too...."

The comment really hit home with Heero, and he clenched his teeth behind his pursed lips, knowing full well that he'd been beaten. He couldn't tell if Duo did these things to him on purpose, or if it was just the full effect of his charm -- or further still, Heero's infatuation. "Fine," he agreed staunchly, though he refused to meet Duo's eyes when he did so. "Show me what's wrong."

The problem turned out to be just as much of a tribulation as Heero expected -- and then some.

Not the problem with Deathscythe's mainframe, though: that was a simple error that occurred in conjunction with some of the mechanical upgrades that had been added to Deathscythe recently, and it was only a matter of rewriting the code to fit the new modifications to get everything running smoothly once again.

No, Heero's trials were of a more visceral nature, and though he'd known to expect it even before he'd entered Deathscythe's cockpit, he hadn't realized just how heady the sensation would be until he got there. It had been bad enough that Duo had insisted on lingering on the Gundam's open hatch at first, curious to observe Heero's methods as he went about rewriting the software, the proximity of his warmth and sound -- his scent -- only adding to the situation.

Heero eventually found a good excuse to keep Duo out of the cockpit and relatively busy, telling him to work on rewiring some of the outer hardware that seemed to be factoring into the problems with the mainframe. It was with great relief that Heero closed the hatch and sealed Duo outside, though the fact that he was now alone almost made it worse than it had been before. If the emotional and physical trials he had experienced himself in Wing's cockpit were any indicator, Heero knew that it was in this very place that Duo was at his most raw and vulnerable.

The intimacy of it was driving Heero wild.

He remembered how excited he had been to simply sit on Duo's bed, where he knew Duo would routinely touch himself when he was alone. Being there in Deathscythe's cockpit, inappropriate or otherwise, seemed to incur a similar reaction in Heero, and before he even realized it, he was getting hard. Here, he was closer to Duo and the secrets of his person than he could ever hope to be. As his free hand slid over the hard muscles of his inner thigh, it made him wonder if Duo would ever realize that their spirits were so kindred -- that Heero was hardly the stiff curmudgeon Duo seemed to think he was.

At first, Heero's touching was a secondary thought as he continued to work on Deathscythe's system, his right hand flying over the console with ease. But before long, his idle strokes against the fabric of his spandex shorts felt more like cruel teasing than anything, and he had to pause in his work to focus more steadily on rubbing the bulge in his pants. The hand that had once been so diligently tapping away at the terminal's keys had deviated to the nearby joystick that controlled Deathscythe's right arm unit. Seizing it as he might have held his naked dick, his fingers wrapped forcibly around its rubber grip, he ran his thumb across the red button adorning its top and stroked its length with a growing fantasy in mind, hoping that it would keep him from needing to intensify his ministrations between his legs.

He pretended he was stroking Duo's dick, helping him get hard enough to give Heero the fuck he yearned so longingly for, but his imagination was as insatiable as his libido. Before long, the hand that had been so eagerly fisting at the control stick had been relieved of its duty, only to be reassigned near Heero's face as he slid two fingers into his mouth, mimicking yet another desire he had for Duo's cock. The two digits glistened with a string of spit as he pulled them from his mouth and sucked them back in again, wondering what it would be like to suffocate on Duo's cock as he fucked his mouth. The thought left his spandex shorts dampened as his trapped erection tried to stand at full attention inside the constricting fabric. With practiced ease, he pulled at the elastic waistband, shimmying out of his biker shorts just enough so that his dick didn't have to suffer such imprisonment.

So caught up in his fantasy was Heero that he didn't notice the fact that Duo was trying to check up on the status of the reprogramming via Deathscythe's communications link. In fact, it wasn't until Duo had climbed back up to the cockpit and manually reopened the hatch to get Heero's attention that he even realized he was being sought after. But when Heero realized that he was no longer by himself and that Duo was sitting in the open mouth of the cockpit, eying his naked lap with an arched eyebrow and a smirk, he froze, his hand still wrapped around his penis, while the other fell limply from his parted lips.

"Oh, don't let me stop you. Please, continue," said Duo, making a little shooing motion with his hand at Heero's untimely pause, while his other idly wandered over one thigh and down between his legs, casually pawing at his crotch like it was a mere itch.

But Heero was hardly amused that he had been caught so easily -- a prospect he had clearly never envisioned, even after months of filthy thoughts and wet dreams. "How long have you been there?" he asked in a flat, unamused voice, though he still had made no physical movements since Duo's untimely arrival.

"Eh, long enough," Duo replied with a shrug, hardly trying to hide the fact that he was getting aroused by the situation. He had since yanked his shirt out of his pants and undone the fly so that he might get it up a little faster. "Though I have to admit," he added, that damn smirk still in place, "I'm a little surprised by your choice in locale."

Heero grit his teeth, momentarily lost for words. He wasn't sure he had the wherewithal to admit that his surroundings were half the reason he'd felt the need to stick his hand down his pants in the first place. And yet, here he was, caught red handed like a child whose chocolate-stained hand was thrust deep into the cookie jar. The best he could come up with was, "It's your fault." He felt stupid even as he said it, though.

"My fault? Why, whatever could that mean?" Now Duo was just stringing Heero along, and it was painfully obvious.

The teasing, coupled with the way Duo was still petting himself, was more than Heero could bear, and he was unable to stop himself from snapping back automatically: "Yes, your fault -- you and the shameless way you carry yourself, walking around shared quarters practically naked all the time, and your foul, dirty mouth, and... and the way you do... that" -- he nodded fervently at Duo's unabashed masturbating, his face too red and flustered to even define the other pilot's actions with a word.

"What, this?" Duo was still playing innocent as he spread his legs a little wider so that the bulge in his exposed, red boxers was in clear view. "You trying to tell me you've seen me whack off before? Who knew you were such a voyeur, Heero."

The irony of Duo's comment was not lost on Heero, but his pride kept him from allowing Duo the victory. And yet, there, before him in the flesh, was everything that Heero had craved since the moment he'd first seen the pistol-toting Duo Maxwell swagger into his life. Heero's dick was starting to leak with precum inside his tight fist as he thought about how much he wanted to belong to Duo, to be his toy and playmate in a way that expanded him beyond his predisposed duty. Doctor J wanted Heero to be a weapon, and Relena wanted him to be a saviour; Trowa wanted a role model, Quatre a hope and Wufei a rival. But Duo -- Duo just wanted to be his friend, and that notion alone was enough to awaken things within Heero that he'd never even thought possible. Duo like him as a person -- liked him.

Duo's vulgarity drew Heero back to the present. "So, were you sitting in here thinking about my dick, buddy? Thinking about how big it is when it's hard?" he asked, unabashedly yanking the waistband of his boxers over his erection so that it might spring free. Pumping it languidly, he added, "Here, look as long as you want. Don't be shy."

Heero wanted to refuse the offer, but he was absolutely unable to, subconsciously wetting his dry lips as he drank in the way Duo handled his hardened penis like an expert. God, how he wanted to offer such a service to Duo, or perhaps indulge in a lesson at the mercy of those experienced hands. The hand he still had wrapped around his own erection started to move again, driven by the carnal sight before him.

All the while, Duo was grinning like a mad man, clearly enjoying this newfound power over an individual he'd previously thought immune to such sins. "Tell me what makes you hard, Heero," he pressed, actually rather curious to know the answer. He could feel Heero's eyes on his dick, which actually turned Duo on more, but also begged the question, "See something you like?"

Heero thought the response to that was more than obvious, but he still found himself unable to even nod his head. The torment Duo was bestowing upon him was growing unbearable, and it was only with a surge of his usual directness that Heero overcame it, shifting forward enough so that he might reach between Duo's legs and take over. His grip was even more sure than the one he had on his own dick, far more concerned with whether or not he was satisfying Duo. He managed to rasp breathlessly, "Something I want," before throwing caution to the wind and leaning forward to gag himself with Duo's cock.

Duo's devilish laughter filled the tiny cockpit as Heero swallowed his erection. He reached down and grabbed the loose fabric of Heero's shirt, jerking him out of the pilot's chair and forcing him down onto his knees in the cramped space between the seat and the hatch. Duo edged further into the cockpit as well, propping his boots up against the front lip of the pilot's seat so that he might accommodate Heero better. He thought he'd be long dead before Heero Yuy would ever blow him, and yet, here he was: clearly, God was going to strike him dead in the next thirty seconds, because such a thing was way too good to be true. Heero's mouth was small and hot, his lips plush and his audacity incredible: Duo loved the way Heero boldly deep throated his dick, even though he clearly couldn't fit all of it down his throat without suffocating; he loved the way his cum was already dribbling down Heero's chin as he swallowed his ejaculate like an eager virgin. Which made Duo wonder if Heero was, a thought that kept him hard even after he'd relieved Heero's bruised mouth of his cock.

For his part, Heero also thought that he was living a dream that couldn't possibly be reality, a notion that was only dispelled by the fact that his own erection was so painful and engorged that there was no way he could have been peacefully sleeping. His face still smeared with Duo's drying cum, Heero looked up at Duo's flushed face from the floor, panting with need. He was so horny, there was no way he'd be able to leave this cockpit without getting Duo to fuck him, though he lacked the nerve to voice such a desire out loud. He admittedly also liked the notion of being used at Duo's whims and not his own, though it didn't make him want it with any less urgency or ardour.

A hand slipped around Heero's face as Duo lifted his chin so that their eyes might meet. There was a moment where Duo seemed to be silently asking Heero if what they were doing was really okay, which Heero felt comfortable with acknowledging only because no words needed to be said. Even when Duo crudely broke the spell by asking if Heero was still thinking about his dick, Heero now knew that even if his wildest fantasies of servitude were realized, Duo would never take advantage of him. It was almost paradox how the symbiosis between them worked, and yet, it was a balance that Heero had yet to find in any other person.

"It's funny," Duo was saying as he eased further into the cockpit and edged Heero back into the pilot's seat, "here, all this time, I was thinking you were into princesses and that sort of thing, but I guess that was wrong." He lifted a knee and slid it between Heero's legs as he clambered into the chair after him, positioning his body of Heero's so that the other aviator was effectively trapped beneath him. "So tell me then," he went on, his voice a harsh whisper against Heero's ear, "what exactly is your type?"

This was another question Heero knew the obvious answer to but was afraid to voice out loud. He wasn't naive enough to assume that just because he and Duo had an understanding that Duo would totally reciprocate the kinds of feelings Heero had for him. He also wasn't dumb enough to assume that he wasn't just another notch in Duo's belt, especially considering that Duo had very little trouble gaining the affections of others. Being clear on such things from the beginning would probably be the only thing that would allow Heero to look Duo in the eye once all of this was said and done.

He was drawn out of his morose thoughts rather jarringly when he realized that Duo had pulled his spandex much further down his legs and was now grinding his bare erection against his, lifting his ass off the seat by wedging his bent knee beneath him as he did so. "Come on, blue eyes, tell me what you really think about when you got your hand around your cock?" he pressed, fishing for information to satisfy his own worries. "Or maybe you're just out for a little experimental romp before you commit to that princess type after all...."

The allusion was all too much for Heero to take, and, unable to repress himself any longer, he burst out, "It's you! You're the one I...!" Gasping, he arched his back and strained against Duo as the other pilot drove his hips viciously into Heero's and driving both their arousals to new peaks at the mere friction.

Truth be told, even after Heero said it, Duo wasn't sure he quite believed it. Heero was way too good at everything to want anything less than a princess like Relena as his partner, despite the fact that it was his dick that Heero was spreading his legs for. Even as he pressed his wet fingers between Heero's ass cheeks without protest from the other pilot, he had trouble believing that the one person he had an interest in had been harbouring a similar one as well. Shit like that just didn't happen to Duo Maxwell: if it did, he might have actually considered himself lucky....

Heero was caught breathless as the first of Duo's fingers pressed into him, whimpering when the second soon joined it, and then outright moaning when he was given a third. The intrusion was painful, and it made Heero curl his fingers into Duo's back as the other pilot stretched and toyed with him. "You really want my big, American dick, huh, boy?" he hissed, though he was met only with a series of voiceless gasps from Heero. "Prove it to me -- make me believe you deserve it. Tell me your dark fantasies, your needs -- your desires...."

Heero was overwhelmed at such a demand, especially since he could feel the wet head of Duo's penis against his ass. Duo continued to finger him, his face buried in the crook of Heero's neck as Heero tried to find the courage and the words to bring their coupling to its most soaring height. "I... I... ahh!" He threw his head back, panting as Duo started to finger fuck him harder, his mind saturated with every erotic fantasy he had modeled around his lust for Duo.

"I want to hear something kinky," Duo growled against Heero's neck, his teeth nipping at flesh as he spoke. "Tell me the things you want me to do to you."

"I... I...! Ahh -- nng!"

"If you want me to fuck you, tell me now!"

"I... I want...." Heero was grasping for words, far beyond the breaking point of any other endurance test he'd ever gone through in his life before. He squinted his eyes shut and visualized the devious things he had dreamt up in the past, allowing his lips to babble the images that came to mind without a thought as to whether or not they made sense as they did. "I want to be your slave -- your dog, even!" he finally managed to burst out. "I want to lay at your feet, to be allowed to lap at your cock when you reward me, and to be caged when I'm to be punished. I want you to use me when I'm confined, to be collared and cuffed and indentured to you, and you alone. Make me wait for you, naked; abuse my body for your amusement, make me yours -- yours alone -- ahh!"

At the last, Duo ripped his fingers from Heero to forcefully replace them with his aching arousal, which had grown even more swollen with every word that had poured from Heero's mouth. He braced himself against the back of the pilot's seat and sunk his teeth into Heero's neck to keep himself from screaming his pleasure as he claimed Heero as his own. The Japanese was tight -- virginal as Duo has guessed earlier -- and Duo found himself overwhelmed with pleasure and sensations he had never before experienced, despite having been around the block a few times before. He tried to conceal such vulnerability with all manner of obscenities, calling Heero slut and whore to satiate both their needs, holding Heero's face tightly in one hand as he demanded that he call him 'Master', which Heero readily obeyed until they both climaxed with a chorus of wild screams.

Duo slumped against Heero, exhausted, breathing heavily in the other pilot's arms. The whole cockpit smelled like sex. "If... if this is for real, and not a dream," he gasped, nuzzling Heero's chest through his sweat-soaked shirt, "I better see you in my bunk tonight, and you better be waiting for me naked."

For the first time, Heero smirked as he glanced down at the crumpled pilot in his arms, idly running his fingers along the unraveling braid that was draped over his forearm. He gave Duo a reassuring squeeze as an answer, now certain he hadn't imagined the sync he'd noted between them before.

"And Heero," Duo continued as if he knew there was a look worth wiping off Heero's face: "Feel free to jerk off as much as you want until I get there."