Rated: PG-13, or R if you're *really* sensitive; language, some vague non-graphic lemon-lime. (Sorry; I'm just... not good at writing lemons.)
Disclaimer (lite): Not mine. Not yours either, which makes me feel a little better, since we're all in the same boat, paddling upstream with a tennis racquet. No financial gain here. (I wish.)
Blue Forest Banshee Diversions Part 8
Enter the Dragon
I realised that I was back from the Land of Oz a few seconds after essaying the thought that no one would ever believe me if I told them that Heero had neon-purple sheets on his bed.
I blinked, blinked again, and recognised the heavy warmth of Heero's body above me, even as he noticed my return. His fingers crawled down my arm to lace with mine, squeezing gently. His human-form tongue swiped affectionately at my ear and I giggled. An accompanying squirm told me that we weren't done yet; he was still hard, still inside me, waiting patiently for the crazy Banshee to return from whatever walkabout my mind had chosen this time.
I have taken to... well... passing out while in the grip of orgasm. Not always, but often enough that he's stopped freaking out over it. Often enough that I've stopped hyperventilating and hiding under the blankets in embarrassment afterward. We have come to the conclusion that it has something to do with him; with the position we're in and, maybe just a tiny bit, the way I feel about him. It sure as hell never happened to me with anyone before him. I would have warned him, if it had. As it was, the first time I... left the building, so to speak, he nearly had a coronary.
And of course, it happened in the stupidest way possible.
I was on my knees, arms draped over the headboard of his bed - the most gorgeous cherry wood sleigh bed you ever want to see - and my whole world, from toes to nose lit up like Guy Fawlkes, the Fourth of July, May Day and New Years eve, all at once and I blacked out.
Heero, of course, was just a little busy with his own set of fireworks, and wasn't prepared for me to go down like a stone, face-first into the pillows. Not a big thing, you say, and it wouldn't have been, except that I encountered that nice, solid cherry headboard on the way down.
Heero thought he'd killed me. He swears he knew I'd just fainted, but I saw the screaming relief in his eyes when I came back. That, and the fact that he wouldn't let me out of his arms for the next two hours.
Oh yeah; and the painfully swollen blue-green-purple bruise on my cheekbone that refused all efforts at removal, reduction or camouflage for the next three days.
I had to go to work the next day with my face looking like I'd been smacked with a board. More to the point, Heero had to go to work with my face looking like I'd been smacked with a board.
He was a few minutes ahead of me; I'd paused to say hello to Q and to Raia, and to explain that bruises were just a normal part of hot, wild Banshee sex, so I walked into the office alone.
Into the spotlight.
Anticipated by everyone.
Damn.
Trowa was on assignment with Tiffany, but Wufei was there, as were Inazuma, Moira, Enrique and Estaban.
I walked in the door, coffee in hand, and half a smile on my face, trying to pretend I didn't look like a cartoon character.
Moira shrieked. Inazuma dropped a bundle of parchments. Estaban crossed himself reflexively. Enrique swore. Wufei snarled and launched himself over the desks at Heero.
Moira and Estaban rushed to me, both of them babbling unintelligibly. Enrique and Inazuma rushed to try to pull Wufei and Heero apart before Heero made salad out of the Were.
Can you say 'confusion'?
Can you say 'mortified'?
Can you say 'disappeared back into Q's office in a New York minute?'
I couldn't, but I did.
Fat lot of good it did me.
Q must have sensed a disturbance in the Force, as he was on his way out. He caught me in his arms, spun us around and back into his office before I knew what happened. I was babbling like an idiot, trying to explain that it wasn't Heero's fault, when the door slammed open and Heero stalked in, carrying Wufei by the scruff of his neck. Need I say that Heero was in his scary dragon form? Or that Wufei was hissing, spitting and trying to claw Heero worse than any cat? Or that they were being trailed by the rest of our overly concerned coworkers?
Turns out - and you knew this was coming, didn't you - they all thought Heero had beat me up.
Q was initially horrified, but it didn't take but a few minutes before he was laughing so hard he had to sit down.
Heero was very nearly incoherent with rage; Wufei ranted apoplectically in incomprehensible Chinese and the rest of the crew went through some very interesting color changes before slinking off to the office once more.
Raia managed to stifle her own snickers long enough to remove my poor humiliated person from the office so that Q could knock some dragonheads.
I tried the 'none of your business' retort when normalcy finally reared its ugly head back in our office, but that didn't work. I had to tell them at least the bare bones of the truth before they would stop giving Heero the hairy eyeball. Somehow, we got through the rest of the day with no more than a few snorts here and there.
And then, joy of joys, I had to do it all over again the next day for Tiffany and Trowa. Fortunately, Heero had an early meeting, so he wasn't there for the second showing. Thank the Goddess that Tiffany is older than the others and much more pragmatic; all she said was that next time, I should fold a quilt over the headboard as padding. Trowa was horrified more by Wufei's behavior, I think, than my injury. He was filled with sympathy for me, though, and very thoughtfully brought back Chinese fast food when I refused to go to the dining hall at lunch, and sat with me just radiating concern while I ate.
Did that sort of thing ever happen again? Are you kidding?! Heero made damn sure my face was nowhere near anything that solid from then on.
~*~
I figure it's just part of learning about each other. You try things; if they work, you do it again. If it doesn't work, you move on to the next thing. Fortunately, most things we tried didn't end with bruises.
He's careful of me, almost ridiculously so, because he's so damn strong even in his human form. We've finally gotten to where he understands that I don't need to be treated like spun glass; I won't break if he's a little forceful. Hey, I like forceful; tickles something way down deep inside of me. Q says I have a kink. I never thought much about it before Heero.
In the outside world, I made liaisons because I was scared and lonely and just wanted to hear someone tell me I was okay; I was hanging on. It was never about love, though there was always affection. But there weren't any of these fireworks with anyone out there. No one expected me to do anything I didn't want to; hell, most of them were no more experienced than I was. We were just kids looking for comfort and a little caring.
Being with Heero is... just so much more than I ever expected. I think this must be what everyone talks about, when they talk about love; this feeling of safety, comfort and trust. I don't express it very well; I don't think I have a romantic or flowery turn of phrase, but I just feel... together. I feel like all my pieces are in place when I'm with him. I feel like I have a wall between me and the rest of the world, and nothing bad can ever get through it when he's with me. I'm never afraid, never hesitant when we're together. I feel... Okay, this is really stupid and silly, but dammit, when I'm with Heero, I feel like Superman. Totally fucking invincible.
I don't exactly know how he feels; he tells me all the time that he loves me, and shows me just as often, so I kind of take that to mean he likes me too. But you know what really tells me that he cares, and cares a lot, besides all the words, which are easy to say, but might not really mean anything? I'll tell you what convinces me.
The Wyvern swallows like a fuckin' anaconda!
And he can't fake that!
OWARI
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