Author: Zazu
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Lemon, Yaoi, drabble
Pairings: 1x2x1
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, nor do I own the characters. I have borrowed them here for some fun and creativity, and this is not for profit. I do, however, own the plot mentioned here, and any instances that you may find similar to real life events are purely a coincidence. All of the characters depicted in this story are adults.
Author's Note: Not beta-read. Written for mi-chan, who had a headache on Mon
On The Floor
The floor was hard under my elbows and knees but it was better than cleaning the carpet afterwards. I grimaced as a particularly hard thrust sent me sliding forward, but I pushed back just as hard, arching my back, lowering my head onto the backs of my hands.
His body curved over mine, hot, sweaty, pulsing with his heartbeat as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to my back, my shoulder, my neck. I moaned and he echoed me, whispering my name under his breath.
There was nothing for my hands to grip so they formed fists and I trembled as his hand trailed down my side, fingers flexing and palm caressing until it reached my hip. He pressed that sensitive spot at my hipbone and I arched as he thrust hard into me, rocking his hips. His other hand moved from bracing himself up off the floor, reaching forward to hold my elbow, sliding down my forearm to my wrist. I turned my head and kissed the back of his hand, then pressed my eyes to it as he grasped my fist, gripping tightly.
Then, his hand slid along the crease of my thigh and hip to grasp me, pumping me in time to his thrusts, then a little faster as he pressed deep into me, his mouth by my ear, his breathless voice telling me to let go, to fall, so I reached for what he gave me, trusted him enough to leap as far as he pulled me.
My cry echoed in the space around us. I felt him acutely, thrusting deep into me, hand moving over my sensitive flesh, a solid, firm grip on my fist, his thumb caressing just a little. My muscles flexed and contracted around him; I felt him twitch in me as he pressed his lips to the spot behind my ear.
I shivered then, but I couldn't say whether it was from his lips pressed to that sensitive spot, or the moan that seemed to reverberate in my ears, my head, all over each and every cell, or his tight grip around my waist, or the heat that flooded me soothingly and possessively at the same time. My mouth was open but no sound came out; I knew he could hear me well enough through my body language with his own pressed so closely and intimately.
His thumb caressed my hip bone and I relaxed, feeling him relax against me, our hearts still racing. The only thing I remembered then, in spite of my raw elbows and knees, in spite of the liquid seeping from within me and down the insides of my thighs...
...was that he was, and always will be, the only one who could take my heart and my soul, and make me fly that high.
OWARI
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