Author: CleverYoungThief
Rating: R
Warnings: Shounen ai, yaoi, light violence, light bondage, Duo POV
Pairing: 2x1
Archive: Gundam Wing Addiction
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Don't sue. College kids are like L2 kids; we got nothin'.
Note: There's probably going to be one more piece to this little series (a 1x2) from Heero's POV; it's going to be called "Dominance Shift", so look out for it. ^_~
"And you would knock me to the floor if I wasn't there already, if only I could hunt the hunter...."
--- 'What I Really Want', Alanis Morissette
Hunt the Hunter
Trust Issues...
I have him now. He kissed me back.
I shouldn't have expected it to last. After all, I probably know him better than anyone. After that first rainy afternoon, he became even more cold and distant than before, as if he thought he could push me far enough away, it would erase what happened that day. But it can't. Nothing he does can change the way I feel. Or the way he feels about me.
I'm hunting him.
He knows I'm watching his every move. He proved to me that he's human, because I see the way he watches me back. Watches me watching him. He acts like nothing has changed. He's back to working on that stupid laptop, which I am very close to throwing out the window, just to see what he does.
I push him, and he pushes back. One day I'm going to push him too hard, like that first day, when he came very, very close to hurting me. But that's okay. It was that first push that got us to where we are now.
So close...
I'm not going to let him get away. In class, after school, after the lights go out, I'm always watching him. Stalking my prey. I've never missed a target before. And I certainly don't intend to start now. He's mine, and I'm going to mark him.
I'm not totally stupid, you know. I tried to talk to him about it. But he won't hear a damned word I say. Those cobalt eyes just look at me as if I'm stupid. He's pretty much quit speaking English unless he has to since that day. He lost his trust for me, no matter what he said when he kissed me. I haven't gained that trust back yet. I broke the boundaries of our relationship. I did something that was way outside parameters. I took advantage of his emotions, pissed him off, and he's sure as hell going to let me know about it.
And he avoids me. I can't decide whether he's embarrassed about wanting me the same way I want him, or whether that methodical, clockwork mind of his just doesn't know how to compute the situation yet.
Or maybe he's just scared.
But I won't be ignored. I'm not going to disappear if he pushes me away. If anything, it's going to make me close in. I can taste the weakness in him, just like that a ticklish spot right beneath his ribs where I can incapacitate him without landing a blow. It's only a matter of time.
I'm stalking him now. Just waiting in the same position I had gotten him on that first rainy afternoon, listening to him type at his laptop. But even more than before, he feels my eyes at his back. I can see it in the tense set of his shoulders, the way he stops typing every couple of minutes, not to gather his thoughts, but to listen to see if I've left yet.
There's an American comic book spread in front of me, but I'm not looking at it. It's really just for show. An excuse for me to sprawl across my bed in nothing but a pair of black boxers, watching the rain sheet down the dormitory window and the light from the laptop throwing Heero into a dim silhouette.
He's working on our Mission objectives right now, still clacking away at that laptop. So, Heero, you like the follow orders, huh? That's an interesting concept. I intend to explore it to the fullest. Don't worry, bud. You'll enjoy it.
I rummage through my pack at the foot of the bed and grab a rumpled pack of cigarettes and my lighter. I make sure my hair is well out of the way before I strike the lighter; I just brushed it, so it's not braided, and it's all over the place, cascading down my shoulders.
I light a cigarette, take a deep draw on it, then blow the smoke at the back of his head in a long, satisfying exhalation. Ignore me will you? I don't think so.
Finally, he turns around and glares at me. Even when he's glowering at me, he is some kind of sexy. I fight back the urge to jump him just at the sight of that sultry, sullen, sulking glance.
"What in the hell are you looking at, baka?"
I sit up on my elbows, arms crossed at the wrists, letting my back stretch and pop through the shoulders, giving him the most heated look I could muster. I reveal my desire for him in every movement and glance. If do say so myself, I'm very, very good at it communicating exactly what I want. And I usually get it, one way or another.
"You."
The answer disconcerts him a little. That's why I believe in being blunt. He shivers a little. There we go, Heero. Come to me. So beautiful, even when he's angry or confused. I love it when he looks like that. When he looks like the prey, instead of the predator.
"Well... stop," he answers curtly, turning back to his work.
"Why?"
He falters. I can see his shoulders tensing up. I guess he hadn't thought of an answer to that particular question. He doesn't turn back to look at me, but I can tell he's thinking about it. I know the only reason he doesn't give in is because he thinks that whatever happens between us will fuck with the Missions.
Don't I know him? I can read him like a god-damned book. Or an instruction manual, only one that's really hard to read in places because the ink is all smudgy and it's in a language you can't read, and even if you could there's a different dialect for every village in the country. Kind of like that.
That's my Heero.
"Don't you have something better to do?" he says finally, turning around to look at me. I meet his eyes steadily, even yawning a little, like I was bored, and nothing he says is in the least bit of interest to me. The best predators are the ones who don't look like they're hunting. Trowa taught me that.
"Nope. Still rainin', Heero, if you haven't noticed. At least it's raining here in the real world, not in that little electronic screen you're currently swimming around in."
He looks at me hard, as if he can see what I'm thinking if he glowers intensely enough into my eyes. I don't look away. You never look away. It's a sign of fear. If I looked away, he would know I was afraid. But I'm not afraid. I know what I want. And I'm not afraid to take it.
"Why do you look at me like that?" he asks softly, his voice deadpan and dangerous.
"Because I want you," I whisper. "I want to have you lying beneath me again, without anything in between us. I want to hear you beg under my hands, not because you're being tortured, but because I touch you and you like it. And I want to do it again. And I know you do too. You want it and you hate that."
I can see him flush as I talk, his breath coming a little faster. Something flares in those cobalt blue eyes, and his mouth kind of drops open in an expression I can't really read. He closes his eyes a moment, his eyebrows furrowing together in that look he gets when he's trying to decide between two courses of action in battle.
His hands are shaking a little. I want to take him here, but he needs just a little more time. Almost there, buddy. That's the kid. Just a little further.
Heero...
Surrender. Give it up. You're mine.
He does something totally unexpected now. He closes the laptop with a snap, gets up without meeting my eyes.
And he runs away. Walks through the door and closes it softly behind him with a click. I can hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway. Where he's going, I have no idea. I don't think he does, either. He's just trying to escape. But there's no way to get away.
I smile and take another drag on the cigarette, grabbing a pillow and gathering it beneath my chin, grinning softly. I roll over on the pillow and blow bluish smoke up at the ceiling, watching it circle under the fan. I've already won.
He has to come back eventually.
And that's when I'll have him.
~*~
He comes back in after nightfall. He relaxes when he comes in, because he doesn't immediately see me. But I'm there. As soon as he closes the door behind him, I attack. I pounce with a bloodcurdling banzai rebel yell, dragging him to the floor.
I have to gain the advantage quickly. If Heero gains the upper hand, there's a good chance he might kill me before I'd have a chance to counteract him. So I hold him down with all my weight, straddling him, pinning his hands over his head by the wrists.
"Duo! Kisama! Get off me! What in the hell-"
I cut off his protest by covering his mouth with mine forcefully, almost hard enough to bruise. At first, he's tense and unyielding beneath me at first, but eventually, he struggles less and less. Finally, he's not struggling at all. It doesn't take very long.
He isn't struggling now, but he isn't helping me out any, either. He's just lying beneath me, like he had that first afternoon. I opened my eyes and saw his own looking back at me. He was watching me, just like that other time.
I pull back. Looking at him. But I don't get off. If I get off him now, if I stop, I don't know what he'll do. And I don't know if I'll be able to stop him this time.
"What in the hell are you doing, Duo?" he whispers, finishing what he had been trying to say from before.
He struggles again under me, almost rearing up. I hold him down, lowering my head to nuzzle at his neck tenderly. He leans his head back, and I can feel him swallow hard. I gently kissed his throat, putting my lips over the pulse there. He sighs, going limp under me again.
I whisper against his neck. "Heero, tell me you really want me to stop, and I will. But you can't lie. I'll know if you lie. So look at me and tell me you don't want it." I look up, meeting his eyes. "What do you want?"
He knows. But he doesn't know how to say it. And he's too proud, even if he knew the words. Heero isn't the type to submit so easily. That's what I love the most about him. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, exposing his throat to me. It's the only submission he knows, I think. But it's good enough for me.
I trace kisses over his throat, feeling his pulse beneath my lips, feeling him gasp under my touch. If I was a real predator, I could have killed him by now. As it is, I'm going to bring him the next best thing.
I move up his body for a moment to whisper in his ear. "Trust me, Heero. You said you would, so trust me. Don't hurt me, please. And I won't hurt you. Don't move your arms."I bit his earlobe gently before moving back down his torso, and he made a choked little sound between a whimper and a moan.
I slowly let go of his wrists and moved my hands down his arms in a gentle caress, hopefully fervently that my speculations were accurate, and that I hadn't been misreading his reactions. If I was wrong, I probably wasn't going to survive the night.
Yes! He does just like I tell him. His arms are still above his head, wrists crossed and relaxed. His eyes are open again, his face is flushed, and he's watching me. I almost grin like an idiot when he surrenders. But that would ruin it. Instead, I lean down and catch his lips in a kiss, trying to show him how careful I'm being. How much he can trust me.
My hands move farther down, slipping down beneath that awful forest green tank top. You know, the one that smells like gunpowder, the one with the bullet holes in it that everyone thinks is moth-eaten by giant rabid radioactive killer moths because of said bullet holes.
Anyway, getting distracted.
It's what's underneath that's important. He gasps when my hands come in contact with the bare skin of his stomach. I think it's because they're cold. And he's most definitely warm. Flushed, and hot, and not just because he's been struggling against me.
I slid down his body to press trace my tongue across the rim over his navel. His hips buck, and he makes that choked sound again, like a dog who has had the bark beaten out of him. Don't hold back, pally. Don't swallow it back as if you were being tortured and aren't allowed to show emotion or feeling.
This isn't pain.
I want you to scream.
When I move back up, I pull the tank top with me, pulling it over his head and his limp arms. I stretch it a little (not like it needs much help, the damned thing looks like it has been to hell and back) and before he knows what I'm doing, I have it tied around his wrists. Binding him.
Something flashes in his eyes, fear surfacing behind the lust, and I nuzzle his cheek before touching my forehead to his. "I promised. You know I don't lie. I'm not going to hurt you. But you're always blocking yourself off from me. I trust you, Heero. But you have to show you know I'm not going to hurt you."
The thunder rolls loudly outside, and lightning paints the room in a strobe of crazy shadows, even with the desk lamp on, emitting a warm glow from the other side of the room. He looks up at me, and speaks for the first time in a couple of minutes. I was afraid he had forgotten his English to sensation and touch.
"You don't trust me. You have me tied up. You're afraid of me." His voice is soft.
I shake my head. "You think if you really wanted to hurt me, this stupid raggedy tank top is gonna stop you from busting me up? I know better and so do you. Don't even pretend to underestimate yourself. I know I don't underestimate you."
Enough talk. I hope he locked the door behind him. Otherwise, if someone walks in on us, this is going to look very, very bad.
Of course, you can't rape the willing. And spandex doesn't really hide a lot.
Taking his mouth again, I move one hand down to rest between his legs, squeezing the bulge there gently, rhythmically, before I slipped my hand down his shorts. I moved my mouth down to his chest so my free hand could get to work sliding those damned things to his ankles, which is a lot harder than it sounds when you're trying to kiss someone and give them a handjob at the same time.
What can I say? I'm flexible.
It doesn't really surprise me that the lack of control gets him off more than anything else. He has control over the life and death of hundreds of soldiers. Just like me. Must feel good for him to just let go and let someone else take responsibility for a change.
And the moan as my hand closes around him, beginning to pump slowly. So slowly. Ah, there it is. A muffled sound that wants to be a scream. That's what I want, Heero. Now let's make it a little louder. Let's get expelled, whaddaya say?
I bring my mouth down to suckle one nipple gently, flicking my tongue over it. His hips are jerking beneath my hand as he tries to keep from rocking them up. He's biting his lip to keep from crying out now.
Oh no no no, Heero. That's so not gonna work. The whole point is to make you beg and cry, not see how long you can keep from doing it.
I whisper again against his chest as I continue to stroke him, speeding up, playing his body like a violin, as if I've known all along just where to touch him to drive him insane. My voice is a little more hoarse than before. "Just let go, Heero. Make some noise for me."
He's moaning something very softly under his breath in Japanese, eyes closed tightly shut, as if he concentrates hard enough, he won't cry out. His hips are bucking now, whether he wants them to or not.
Don't underestimate me either, bud.
He's just so damned quiet during sex. C'mon, Heero. Give me a sign.
But he's close now. His whole frame is shaking under me. His fists are clenched over his head, and his head is thrown back, mouth hanging open in a quick, feverish pant. He's almost there. So close...I'm just waiting for my cue to drive him over the edge. I'm almost there myself, just from watching him writhe under me.
Time to make you forget that damned training, Heero.
My hand stops and squeezes in one long last stroke before I pull it away. I bring my hips against his, grinding against him as I move my mouth to the sensitive juncture between his shoulder and neck and bite down. Hard.
"D-Duo!"
"Heero..." I let myself go at that primal scream, release wracking my body. He's coming too. With my name on his lips.
That's why you make a little bit of noise at a time, Heero.
So when you orgasm, you don't wake the whole damned school up thinking that I'm chopping you into little pieces with an ax.
Exhausted, I drop down, half on top of him, half off, so I don't smother him while he tries to catch his breath. He's still trembling a little, and I reach up to cup his face.
"You okay, buddy?"
No answer, but I can feel his head nodding under my hand jerkily, as if he can't stop. His breathing is ragged.
I put a soft kiss against his breastbone, tasting sweat and his skin and myself on him. He smells so good I want to roll around in it. I want to always wake up with that musky scent on my skin that is only Heero, and nothing else.
I look up and inspect the mark on his neck. Didn't break the skin, but it would bruise. There was an almost perfect imprint of my teeth there. I felt a kind of savage satisfaction at that.
I marked him. I stalked him and pulled him down and made him mine. Now nobody else can touch him. Not Relena, not OZ. No one. He's mine alone.
We just lay there, not caring if anyone came in and saw us, me in nothing but a pair of boxers with a wet spot on the front, him almost naked, with his shorts around his ankles and his shirt binding his wrists.
I laid my head over the bruise I made on him, kissing the line of his jaw. His arms come down around me, hands still bound at the wrist.
That's when I know I've caught him.
And the hunt was only half the fun.
OWARI
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