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Title: Raft * On that summer day, Quatre had taken Trowa shopping in the town. Duo had gone with them, still huffy with rage and casting baleful glares at Heero all the while, so it was utter silence on the raft drifting in the middle of nowhere. The sun just a little past prime, but the heat of a full afternoon was bearing down on them, and no rudder, no wind for the sail, no paddle because Duo'd lost the only one and because Heero hadn't gotten around to making another. He'd gone out to the boathouse with every intention of making it on the lathe out there, but then Wufei had been sunning on the raft. . . Heero was too busy now drawing his wet mouth across the fine, strong lines of Wufei's shoulder blade, relishing the fine sheen of sweat mixed with the taste of his kisses, all rubbed into skin lazy with sun. Wufei lay underneath and across the raft, heels, head and fingers dipping into water with his hair trailing after them like a flag in the current, nearly lost in the black, black water. At a caress, though, Wufei sighs and rubs himself against Heero. He's careful, though, because their skin is stuck together with sweat and come, and he does it lazily, because he's tired, and smoothly because his eyes are half lidded with lust and his mouth pulls warm and hot and tastes like Heero -- Later, it's dinner with Quatre cracking jokes and Trowa murmuring reassurances. Their hands when Heero passes Wufei the hot dogs. Heero doesn't look at him at all, and Wufei leaves the table as soon as he's done eating. Later, back in the bedroom with Duo, though, Heero finds Maxwell hiding underneath a blanket with that blank look he always has when he's just about to explode. Heero climbs onto the bed and draws Duo to his shoulder and kisses him. Duo tries to say something, then settles back into Heero's arms and they lie there for an hour, two hours. The only sound is Heero's hand going through Duo's hair, and other than that, it's soft, still silence until Duo falls asleep. And then Heero's out the door. He climbs over the sleeping body and picks his way out to the pier by moonlight. There, he backs Wufei against the wall and probes Wufei's mouth first with his tongue, then his fingers, and when Wufei's wriggling against him, moaning with impatience, Heero drops down onto his knees, slips between Wufei's legs and slides onto him with fingers still wet from his own mouth. He writes long, wet kanji on the inside of Wufei's legs, putting 'sweet' the little crease between thigh and ass, scraping 'mine' on tender flesh until Wufei sobs and writhes against Heero's mouth, Wufei's hands digging into Heero's scalp so hard little runnels of blood flow over his ears. And they come together, Heero still in his pants and Wufei in Heero's hand -- It's the middle of summer. They're having a barbeque outside, lying on a slope by the lake and waiting for the fireworks put out by a nearby town. Trowa is acting as chef, and Quatre's talking to Duo about the fireworks show that the Winners used to put on every year on the anniversary of the first Winner factory. That leaves Heero alone on the grassy slope in the fuzzy twilight until Wufei steals up to him. "You've come just in time for dinner." Heero says, looking up at Wufei. Wufei simply blinks at Heero, his face barely visible in the approaching darkness, but his eyes enormous and velvety black in the twilight. But when Heero turns back around to watch Quatre and Duo argue about just how much gunpowder you can put in a M-54, Wufei drops down to his knees and touches Heero's cheek, just the faintest brush of warmth. He's gone by the time Heero turns around. And then-- Long nights coming into Duo's mouth and wishing it was Wufei moaning underneath him. Longer nights waking and going out onto the pier and taking the raft into the middle of the lake. Achingly long nights trying to fall asleep, hoping against hope that when he opens his eyes, Wufei will be lying there next to him, silent as the stars and twice as beautiful -- The pilots bomb this air base where Treize just happens to be inaugurating a new line of long-range mobile suits. After they reduce the runway strips to rubble and turn the launch pads into smoking ruins, Heero swoops by the ceremonies, where Treize sits unperturbed and alone, attended only by Une and this other person. The rest of the dignitaries have fled, but Treize is drinking champagne from a long-stemmed glass, and he toasts Heero as he goes by. The person handing pouring the champagne is a slim, startlingly beautiful creature with the biggest, darkest eyes that Heero has ever seen, and they watch him go by with utter unconcern. * It's fall now. Wufei is still gone. The mountains are on fire, as is the sky, and Heero and Duo go back to the house by the lake. They drive back up to the cabin in utter silence, and Heero parks the car in the driveway, then walks down to the dock where he looks at the sky, blue as heartbreak. He goes into the little storage shed and brings out douses the raft in a can of kerosene from the trunk of the car, drops a match on it, and shoves it out into the middle of the lake. Duo sits in the car and watches, smiling. * end * Comments to anasile@aol.com |