Author: A-chan
Pairing: 1x2
Warnings: Lemon warning
Rating: NC-17
Author's Note: I'm stuck on the title. Rhapsody in June sounds nice, but isn't really fitting of the fic. Sure, it takes place in June, but I have no idea where rhapsody came from. If you have any suggestions, please don't hesitate to tell me.
Rhapsody In June
The shadow of Mount Augustine crept slowly over the darkening sweep of a nameless meadow, announcing the progress of the dying sun as it disappeared over the horizon. The chatter of birds was beginning to reach quiescence as they settled down for slumber. In fact, everything was preparing to retire before the arrival of the darkness that would soon swallow them whole. Well, almost everything.
A lone figure crouched atop the roof of a twentieth century style villa, clad in black from head to toe and perfectly still but for a pair of blue eyes darting about sharply. He had been there since early that afternoon, watching for any changes in the guards' routines. The pattern of their movements would have left any other person baffled and discouraged, but had taken him only eight days to figure out. Heero allowed a tiny smile to offset the deep frown of his lips and replace it with a flat line of neutrality.
//At least he's taking care of himself.//
Any form of defense against HIM would be futile, of course. By the end of the second day, he had labeled the guards by numbers and memorized their zones. The day before his mission, he had found a flaw in the otherwise perfectly choreographed patrol plan. There would always be a time span of five seconds or so during which Four would round the massive oak tree behind which Heero hid -- thus obscuring his view of the open window a little ways from the nightvisitor's perch -- and Three would finish his round before turning in the intruder's direction. A risky chance to take, but he should be able to make it.
He glanced up at the sky and a few scattered stars winked back at him, teasing him with a secret he would never apprehend. A crescent moon broke free of day's restraints to cast its own dull glow over the slumbering Earth. He nodded in satisfaction. Night had fallen.
The mission could now commence.
Heero tensed his muscles in preparation for dashing across the roof and swinging himself through the window. His progress was jolted to a halt, however, when a silver-hued limousine slid to a stop before the grand iron gates of the villa and an extravagantly dressed woman was helped out of the car by a suit-clad man. The first limo was followed by others, one after another, as they formed an assembly line before the villa.
What the--?
Prominent brown eyebrows furrowed. A party? The ex-pilot watched as guests chattered their way through the front door, a dark, dangerous look on his face. This was not planned, and nothing happens without a plan. So therefore, this was not supposed to take place. Not this night.
He was angry with himself. How did this come about? Why didn't he catch it beforehand? Whatever the explanation, it would have to wait. He considered his options.
Option A: Abort mission and reattempt at another time.
Option B: Continue with mission as previously planned.
Heero nodded, lips compressed into a grim line. He would have to go with A; the outcome of the other would be far too uncertain. The last of the guests had just arrived and he studied them through the main window above the door. They seemed of high social standards, clad in fur and numerous jewels. He snorted, not seeing the purpose of such frivolous weight. Heero replaced his hood and tightened his belt.
Then he froze.
Blood drained from his face as he watched, hypnotized. A braided figure had stepped out of the double doors and exchanged a few words with Three, then disappeared back into the main house.
Option A has just been omitted, his calculating mind told him. But what could he do?
Option C: Modify plan to accommodate interference.
Unequivocally against the rules, but he would have to break them just this once. Heero was pleased to note that the brief interruption of Three's routine now offered him an extra two seconds to secure his timing. Hand bracing against one of the branches, he waited stiffly for the opening, then leapt into action.
The wind swept through his hair as he flickered across the flat roof like a flash of lightning and ducked into the attic window he had targeted. He was hardly out of breath as he rose from bended knees and reviewed his next move. Acqu--
Footsteps were ascending the staircase, and he tucked himself into the crevice between the cabinet and bookshelf. A thump caused him to twitch one eyebrow and step out of his hiding place.
The body of what appeared to be a servant lay on the ground. As the Japanese boy approached cautiously, the strong odor of vodka wafted to his nostrils, and he shrugged. Nothing serious, he decided, just stole too much wine...far too common as of late. Eying the servant's form, he mentally made another adjustment to the plan. He stripped out of his black spandex attire and pulled on the servant's suit. Although he had grown a pleasing nine inches since the end of the war, the clothes were still a little big. He nodded briskly. It will have to do.
He picked up the silver tray and balanced it in one hand. He stepped over the pieces of a broken champagne bottle and made his way down the stairs to the main reception room, carefully keeping to the shadows. Heero smirked. So, those floor plans were accurate after all. He'd had doubts about them, considering that they were sent by a rather unreliable source.
There were many familiar faces -- Relena, Trowa, Quatre, Noin, Sally. Even the anti-social Wufei and Milliardo were present. A wistful little smile came unbidden to his lips.
//He still has a way with people. But where is he?//
As if on cue, the butler stepped onto the stage where some musicians sat and the crowd hushed when he clapped his hands.
"Apologies from our master, ladies and gentlemen. But Mr. Maxwell is not feeling well, and the doctor has advised him to retire early for the night."
Murmurs of concern rose from the guests.
"He is most regretful and hopes you will enjoy the music, dinner, and dancing without him." The butler bowed stiffly and retreated.
Well, this certainly had not been expected. Had Heero not reverted to his war-time self in time for the mission, he would have cursed. But as it was, he merely growled. A penguin-suited guest waved at him impatiently.
"Can I get another whiskey over here?" His words were slightly marred, and an empty glass hung limply from his pudgy fingers.
"Yes, sir," Heero replied quietly. He moved forward towards the kitchen, and the man, satisfied, turned back to his cards. Heero's steps were silent but quick as he approached the double doors swinging actively with the entrance and exit of each servant. But instead of going in, he sidestepped and disappeared through the hidden door on the left.
There weren't many people beyond that point. Just a couple of servants here and there, but no one to earn any special attention from him. His pace quickened almost undetectably. Although there were numerous turns and empty halls to travel, it was an easy task for him, because it was a path he had ran over so many times in his mind. The door leading to his target was at the end of a long corridor. He peered around the wall, and was dismayed to see that there were no guards in sight.
//A careless security action to leave out. Inadequate.//
His progress was careful, his footsteps silent should he have underestimated the guards. Apparently not. Heero stood before the door. The humming of the sensor beams would have gone unnoticed to anyone but him, and it drew a curt nod from the experienced soldier. Better than nothing, he decided even as he reached into the package he carried and pulled out a white canister. The powder he poured from the container was a florescent silver, and he flung a small amount against the door. The beams flared to visibility for a brief moment before flickering into nonexistence.
The soldier stood still for another few seconds, just to make sure. He then returned the canister to the pouch and removed another tool. The protruding wire slid neatly between the door and its frame, and Heero twisted it until its curved end peeked out from under the lock. He pinched the thin wire with a pair of metal clampers and pulled at it firmly. The gundanium lock broke in half with a faint click.
He carefully removed the cutter and put that away, too. Heero inhaled deeply, gathering his wits, then pushed at the wooden obstacle keeping him from his quarry. It opened quite smoothly, giving only one low groan before going silent. [1]
His eyes adjusted to the dark quickly and immediately fastened on a lean form stretched out on the four poster bed, one long arm flung over its head and one knee drawn up. From the meager glow of the moon, it was also evident to Heero's night-enhanced vision that the bed's occupant was nude, undoubtedly to cope with the heat of approaching summer.
His blue eyes burned at such familiarity, and a husky tenor echoed in his mind.
"We're young, Heero, so I'll give you six years. If you still can't make up your mind as to who or what you want to spend your life with, then I'm moving on. Without you."
It had taken him four years, eleven months, eight days, and four hours to make up his mind, and another two weeks to plan his mission. He could only hope that the words still rang true.
His footsteps were dragging as he approached the bed, almost as if he was afraid -- scared to death of the slender boy lying peacefully on top of the covers. Glowing mahogany hair tumbled over the side of the bed, free of its usual restraint during the day. Heero felt his fingers twitch eagerly at the idea of sinking his hands into the rich lock and never letting go. He stood over the occupation of his dreams and allowed his eyes feast on the glorious vision before him.
The skin was still as fair as it had been at seventeen, and just as smooth. But the roundness of his face had disappeared, and with it went the last traces of a childhood that had rejected them all. The sprite was gone, and Duo Maxwell was now a young god.
A sleepy murmur escaped the American's full lips. Apparently, the boy had not lost all of his warrior instincts. Heero laid his palm against one velvety cheek and stroked the bone with his thumb. That earned him a happy sigh and he was forced to catch his breath when Duo leaned into his caress.
Midnight blue eyes widened on their own accord when a soft puff of breath washed over his hand.
//Did he just say my name...?//
Heero hesitated before settling beside its occupant in the oversized bed and burying his face in the elegant curve of Duo's neck. His tongue flicked out to taste the other, and he sighed against the tender skin. A low groan emanated from the boy beneath him and Duo shifted.
Heero grunted and pushed himself off of that warm body he had become comfortable half-lying on. "You can stop with the Sleeping Beauty act now." His voice was low and perfectly serious if not slightly exasperated.
Bare shoulders shook with mirth as lyrical peels of laughter rolled over them. "What took you so long to figure it out?"
Heero didn't answer, as the truth would be too harsh on his ego. He *wouldn't* have realized that Duo was awake had the American not stirred AFTER he groaned, instead the other way round as was his wont. "Duo." He grasped the deceptively slender arms of his quarry, the pressure of his hands firm but gentle. "You know why I'm here." His eyes smoldered in the darkness.
Duo met his intense gaze calmly then cocked his head, a familiar gesture Heero had found odd at first, but had morphed into endearment. "Yes," he said finally, his voice devoid of any traces of his earlier humor or light-heartedness. "Yes," he repeated after a pause, "I do."
Silence hung over the room and drowned the pair in tension. Heero continued to stare into the same violet pools that had been full of fire at their last meeting. In his mind, the ex-Wing pilot could hear his perfectly planned and rehearsed monologue, reciting to Duo how wrong he had been, how much he needed the American's brightness in his life, and of how hard he had been trying during the past few years to change himself so he would be worthy of Duo's love. So why couldn't he even think clearly now that he was mere inches from the one reason he had bothered living through the war?
"Duo, I...we..." Heero stopped, unwilling to set free the words that were sure to come out wrong.
"I know." He always did, and for that Heero was thankful.
Time passed between them, breath poured form their mouths and became one. Duo's expression was one of "Well?" as he regarded his former lover with a critical eye.
"I should've known," Heero said finally in place of an apology... He hoped Duo would understand.
Duo's lips tightened and his words were filled with undecided emotions. "That's a start," he said slowly; his way of forgiveness. He laughed suddenly. "This isn't quite how I'd imagined it to be, though I can hardly say I was surprised when one of my guards recognized you."
Heero's arm was starting to feel the strain, so he rolled to the side. "Someone saw me?" He frowned, disturbed by the revelation.
Duo slithered closer to him and purred in his ear, "I trained them myself, and I hope you realize that I know your tactics better than even you do."
Heero stiffened, his body responding to Duo's proximity. The feeling of the American molded to his body was painfully familiar and his groan was almost audible. Duo laid his cheek sweetly against one toned shoulder and reached down with his left hand. The ex Wing pilot's stomach muscles jolted involuntarily when touched by the young man beside him. His tuxedo, which was too big just seconds ago, now felt ten sizes too tight.
"S-Stop." He grasped the American's wandering hand, halting its progress to one particular area.
Duo's cherubic face took on an innocent look. "What's the matter, Heero?" He wormed even closer to his nightvisitor, fitting himself to the hard, lean body and rolling partially onto it.
"Wait..." Heero tried. They couldn't, not just yet. There were so many things to talk about... But oh gods, he could feel it, that burning hardness pressed against his midriff. His starving hands longed for Duo even more and they were reverent as he gripped the other's narrow waist and slid downward to his lover's pert behind. He arched up to taste those tantalizing lips again, wanting to devour the angel whole but knowing that he should take his time.
Duo squirmed on top of him, silken waves of mahogany tumbling onto his face. Heero gasped as Duo's naked arousal ground against his own clothed one, deliberate and taunting. He was unable to hold back the answering thrust of his hips and Duo's breathy laugh blew against his ear.
Slender hands pushed aside the confining material of his dress shirt and warm lips brushed against his collarbone. Tiny, sweet kisses marked a path up his throat to his jaw, then back again down his chest. A choked sound escaped his clamped lips as slender fingers teased his recently exposed left nipple, rolling it gently and pinching lightly.
Duo's tongue flicked out to taste his navel, then grazed the sensitized flesh around it with deliberately painful teeth, sucking, biting, marking...
It was sudden, perhaps too sudden, when the American's thumb caressed the slit at the head of Heero's manhood. A breathy exclamation forced its way out of the ex-Wing pilot's throat and he wondered, just when had Duo devoid him of his trousers?
All the time, violet eyes were trained on his face, reading pinched expressions in the dark, watching for signs of displeasure. So far so good. He bent down and took an experimental taste of precum gathered at the tip in an opalescent drop.
Heero regarded his lover through half-lidded eyes and ground his teeth, feeling that odd combination of raw need and fulfillment that only Duo could bring about in him. Such familiarity... He grunted when the American did not do more than tease the head of his erection with his lips, but sat back on his heels instead. There was a slight smile on Duo's face, a tremendous contrast with his usual open grin.
"Heero." By the lord he would never tire of that voice whispering his name in the dark, amidst waves of passion and secrecy that would only be revealed to each other.
Duo tilted his head, and in a tone that was almost embarrassed, he said, "I'm glad you made this decision."
Heero's breath left him in a nearly audible puff. "Yeah," he agreed simply. Even afterwards, he wasn't exactly sure how he was able to act so calm and collected when blood roared in his ears and his heart thundered in his chest. Only unlike mere seconds before, it wasn't just sex.
The ex-Wing pilot sat up and reached out to the other, pulling him into a kiss as his hands roamed the expanse of white flesh possessively. He held Duo against him so closely that he was sure the American could feel his heart beating wildly. Heero nuzzled the long neck, lips striving to return the pleasure that had been given to him. They finally fastened on one copper-colored nipple, sucking and feeding. The response was most pleasing, as Duo threw back his head and hissed, his mane of chestnut cascading down his back over the side of the bed.
There was no resistance when Heero pushed his love back onto the mattress, settling his weight on top of Duo. His mouth once again locked onto a hard nub on Duo's chest. Shinigami let out a moan and began squirming when the sucking on his nipple increased. Heero's hands at his sides were gentle but firm, stilling him of any sort of movement as he continued his torment.
Heero shifted upwards, leaving a wet trail on Duo's inner thigh, and pressed his arousal to Duo's. The American panted, jaw going slack and Heero took full advantage of that, brutally plundering his mouth and thrusting his tongue deep inside that warm cavern while his grip on the hairs at the base of Duo's neck kept him immobile and defenseless against the onslaught.
When Heero finally pulled back, Duo's lips were swollen and bruised from the force of the kiss, as were his own. He brushed Duo's mouth softly with his in apology and relaxed his hold on his hair.
Duo smiled and kissed the back of his lover's hand before placing it where he needed it the most. Heero did not disappoint, working the burning shaft with experienced fingers while trying to ignore the ache between his own legs. Duo threw back his head and gave in to pleasure, setting his hips free to thrust into Heero's hand, trying to create friction -- anything to satisfy that urge to abandon civilization and become a wild creature of lust.
His violet eyes flew wide open when he felt release approach rapidly. Heero read the signs given off by his lover and placed one of Duo's hands on his just as the American flooded them both with hot fluid.
"Christ!" The hoarse cry of completion hung in the air as waves of white, milky seed splashed against Heero's chest and the ex-Wing pilot felt a rush of pride.
Duo sagged back into the pillows piled on his bed, breath heavy and still clinging to Heero.
"By the gods you must've had practice."
Heero snorted. "Just with myself."
Duo let out a husky laugh even as he felt his recently satisfied manhood begin to spring to life again. Heero was amused.
Both had a sense of déjà vu when they laid there, gazing at each other without a word. Then Duo whispered, "Top drawer."
It took only seconds for Heero's groping fingers to find a tube that brought back memories of lust and sinful play. His pause did not pass by Duo unnoticed, but the American said nothing. He plucked the lube out of his lover's hand instead and twisted off the cap to remove the foil cover. He squeezed some onto his palm and wrapped his fingers around Heero's neglected erection without hesitation. He was rewarded with a hiss as the cool gel was warmed by heated blood pulsing through the shaft. He stroked longer than was necessary to smooth the lube over the straining arousal, but finally turned it over to Heero.
Duo's preparation was somewhat quicker than usual, as Heero was aching to take him, longing for the most intimate of connections. But when he had positioned himself with Duo's legs over his shoulders, he suddenly couldn't move. His lover's purple eyes sparkled like the stars that had guided him into the villa and words spun in his mind, yet to be spoken.
The American maneuvered himself another millimeter closer to that part of Heero he so wanted inside of him, pleading. Heero obliged, bending down to kiss him and pushing in while doing so. He groaned low in his chest as velvet walls enveloped him and he couldn't help but push another inch deeper, and another until he was buried in Duo's tight, tight channel. The urge to just ram himself into that willing body over and over until the blood raging in the veins settled nearly overwhelmed him, but he managed to control it, forcing himself to take it slow.
He gave Duo time to adjust to the invasion before pulling out slightly and pushing back in. And again, but this time further in. And again, deeper still. This time, it was Heero who let out a low groan that he felt more than heard.
"Gods..."
Duo was displeased with the tempo, so he began rocking against Heero, trying to increase the speed. His words also encouraged Heero, who held him by the hips and began driving into him with longer strokes, falling into a rhythm as old as the pounding waves of the sea.
Duo intertwined their fingers with one hand and held himself with the other. It was only a short while before Heero was ramming into him, their cries mingling in the dark, his nightvisitor's thrusts taking him deeper than either thought possible.
Heero held off his release, not wanting to come without seeing Duo's face bathed in moonlight as it twisted into a mask of ecstasy. When it did happen, Duo's inner muscles clamped down on his trapped manhood, and he came so far up his lover's secret passage that the American shuddered violently in addition to his own release.
When Heero collapsed on top of him, neither wanted to break the joining just yet, so they stayed like that for some time, panting and trying to calm his heart rate. Duo's legs fell away from their jackknifed position on Heero's shoulders to drape loosely over his hips instead.
"Duo..." Heero pushed himself up to his hands.
"Sh..." Duo placed two fingers across his love's lips. "We'll talk. Just...not now. But we will talk, and you can tell me just how much you missed me, and how much you need me. Though I think you just showed me that." He winced playfully. "I don't think I'll be able to sit for a month."
Heero snorted and withdrew, somehow managing to keep from growling as he did so. "Should've guessed you'd know what I have in store for you."
"You're too damn predictable sometimes, Yuy. I bet you have a ten-page speech written haven't you? Typed, rather. Gray on black background."
To deny it would have a been an outright lie, so Heero opted to take the indirect approach, something he'd secretly learned from Quatre. "Even if that was the case, someone was too horny for me recite it. I can't believe you had unopened KY ready."
Duo's laugh was silvery, a light peel that Heero doubted would have been so years ago. Shinigami's pilot seemed to sense his thoughts.
"We're not idiotic kids running around like chickens with our heads cut off anymore." For once, it was Duo who broke the light bantering. "If I'm really what you want, then stay with me a while and we can...get to know each other again."
Heero nodded wordlessly.
"Now, we better shower before we stink up the entire house."
"Good idea...?" There was bewilderment in Heero's voice, and Duo grinned happily.
"By the way," said the American as he stood, "I'm surprised you didn't recognize my guards' routines earlier. After all, it's my version of one of Dr. J's plans."
Heero froze, wide-eyed and disbelieving. How could Duo have hacked his files...? "How--"
Duo winked. "Shinigami's got his secrets too, you know."
"Duo..."
"Hehe, love you too, Heero."
OWARI
[1] Remember, it's twentieth century, meaning old doors and stuff. ^_~
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