Blue Forest Banshee Part 59

He's awake.

Dawn is creeping up the mountains, drifting down the skytubes and Duo is awake.

He's doing stretches in the pale circle of illumination from the center tube.

He doesn't realise I'm awake and watching him.

Ah, my revered ancestors and all the gods of all the cultures that ever were and are now...

He's the most exquisite thing I've ever seen.

I am so damn deep in love.

He isn't doing anything special, just bending and reaching, warming his muscles, limbering up for the day ahead.

The scene alone is special. I've never watched him like this before. I never knew that he started his day with these exercises.

He's... dressed, I suppose, in an odd looking garment. It could be called a kilt, but it isn't a plaid. And it's long, nearly to his ankles. I remember the style, from visits with my father's Clan. I believe it's called a skoor. I remember, the first time the IchiBan took me to visit my father's people, being surrounded by skirts like this and petted and hugged and cuddled by members of the Clan. I had no idea that Duo would have such a thing.

I like it.

Seen as he usually is, in leggings, a high-necked shirt and loose overshirt, he looks thin and fragile, a snowflake in the instant before it melts. His alternate costume of jeans and t-shirt is no better.

Like this, though, naked to the waist, moving slowly in complete control, he is strong and hard, every muscle visible. Here he is no fragile snowflake, no delicate blown-glass figurine, no wary child-wraith to be protected. In this silvery light, taut muscles flexing with his exertions, he seems exactly what he is, a wiry, tight-knit male of unlimited potential; dangerous and fearsome.

And my faint groan of desire for that fearsome creature turns his head, and gives me away.

"Heero!" he cries. "I'm sorry! Did I wake you?"

"Not at all," I manage, swallowing my discomfort. "I was just... admiring the view."

His purple eyes grow wide. "Oh!" His face flames and he reaches for his clothing on the bed.

"Don't!" I startle myself with that plea. He turns to look at me uncertainly. "Please; it's very... very..." I nearly said 'erotic'. He would be in the bathroom in a heartbeat, if that slipped out. He's tried hard not to tease me during this trial period, and I've done my best to reciprocate.

"Duo, please... It's... familiar. I remember from my father's Clan."

His expression softens and he sits on his bed. "Really? What do they look like? I've never been to any other Banshee Clans; I thought my Clan might be the only one to wear this."

I shake my head. "I think they were plaid or patterned somehow, but the style, I think, is the same." I have to grin; he looks so pleased with himself. "I have to say, though, that you look better in it than any male I've ever seen."

Duo laughs, and I catch a glimpse of wickedness in those purple eyes. He leans back on his hands and crosses one long leg over the other, causing the skirt to part at the split. His foot waggles back and forth.

After the first few seconds, I am able to keep my eyes off that long leg. It's hard, and I won't be bounding out of this bed any time in the next few minutes.

"That's mean, Banshee," I growled. "It's not nice to tease the Wyvern." He wiggles his toes in my face. I snap at them and he giggles.

Then he leans forward, both feet on the floor again. "I'm sorry, Heero. I'll go and get dressed so I'm not teasing you any more." And he kisses me lightly at the corner of my mouth.

Damn. I am so lost...

~*~

Breakfast was served in the big room that morning. It's a lot less formal; that's for sure. A couple dozen young Were-Pumas bounced around the room while we ate. At least three times, I lost a piece of bacon to a sneaky claw sliding over the table edge. Trowa finally yelled for his sister to come and get them before he made rugs out of the lot of them.

Catherine swept into the room like a galleon under full sail, and began snapping a dishtowel at the laughing, squalling clowder of Puma kits, eventually herding them outside.

"It's a gorgeous day out!" she yelled at them. "Go climb a tree!"

Wufei was trying so hard not to laugh out loud that he almost strangled himself. Heero wound up smacking him on the back with a sharp command to "breathe, dammit!"

"Sorry, guys," she laughed. "It's my week to sit with the little monsters." She sailed back into the kitchen without missing a beat.

Heero smirked, still patting Wufei's back. "Your sister truly amazes me, Trowa. She always seems to have everything under control."

Trowa peeked from behind his thick fall of hair. "She's actually kind of scary when you're living with her."

"So," I said, mostly to hear the sound of my own voice. "She's something high up in the Clan council, you said?"

Trowa nodded. "First Female of the advisory committee. She's one of the Matriarchs-in-training. She could be running the Clan in another twenty years."

"Cool, Trowa! You've got connections!"

We all laughed, and Trowa rolled his eyes.

"She's still scary," he muttered.

Wufei snorted. "All females are scary, especially when you let them run things."

I looked at Heero, mouthing "let them?"

He smirked and winked. I guess Wufei's Clan is not a Matriarchy.

We finished breakfast and headed out for our boat ride.

~*~

Now, I know I should describe our day on the river, but really? I'd just as soon never speak or think of that day as long as I live.

At least not the part of the day I spent in a life jacket and a helmet, with my fingers locked around a skinny bit of rope, being tossed violently up and down, and soaked to the skin and then some, while I alternately screamed my voice away and vomited over the side of the raft.

Boat ride, my shiny Banshee ass!

Whitewater rafting is not a boat ride on the river, thankyouverymuch.

And that's all I have to say on the subject.

Except that I hope to kill them all, once I can walk upright again.

TBC...

 

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