The Evil Jeans
folder
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,474
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,474
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Evil Jeans
Genre: Gundam Wing
Warning: Yaoi, if you don’t know what the word means, then you need to leave…
Pairing: Heero x Duo
Rating: M, just to be safe. Lots of cussing and talk of sex and dirty things O.o
Feedback: Yes please!
Archives: If you’d like, just give me credit where it’s due.
This is just a silly little one-shot I sat down and wrote. Duo’s POV about evil blue jeans. By the way, I own nothing, they belong to Bandai. If I did own these boys, I sure as hell wouldn’t be writing about them .
---------------
Oh god, he’s wearing THOSE jeans.
By now, you’d think he’d know what THOSE DAMN jeans do to me. We’ve been together for almost three years and he still insists on wearing them in public. It’s that one pair, the one that’s beaten up just enough to be perfectly soft under your fingertips. The pair with the hole that’s scant inches from his crotch; you could see just a glimpse of the tantalizing flesh of his thigh through that hole. They’re the pair that hugs his ass just right, showing off every taut muscle without looking too tight. There’s also a chain hanging from them, a chain I like to pull on when I want his attention. I bought those jeans for him ages ago, never actually expecting him to wear them, and now hate them for all the trouble they cause me… and love them at the same time.
I remember that I’m sitting at a bar, so I close my mouth as I watch him dance. The colorful lights catch on the chain as it bounces off his hip. It also catches my eye, but only for a moment before I drag the disobedient orbs back up his body. I briefly entertain the idea of imagining him naked on the dance floor, his muscular torso slicked with sweat as he moves to the hard beat. I can feel a wicked grin cut across my face as I flick my tongue over my lips and set my beer on the counter behind me.
He knows I’m watching him. He always knows and he always takes advantage of it, the cocky bastard. Heero Yuy, the ultimate cocky bastard. I don’t know how the hell I caught him, or how I have him still, but I’ve got this small inkling that he isn’t going anywhere. He’s never said the words… neither of us have, but I think he knows just like I do.
I slide down a little farther on my bar stool, spreading my legs just a touch as I do so. If he was in the mood to play games then I was going to play too. He had the gall to wear those DAMN JEANS when he came to meet me, so I’m going to push every button I know about. I can foresee him screwing me into the mattress so hard I’ll disappear, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck right now. Besides, I kind of like it when he does that.
I catch one Prussian blue eye flick my way, a sly glance that he passes over his shoulder so quickly I almost miss it. When he looks at me, I can only imagine what he sees: a skinny man, five-foot six with long russet hair that’s in a perpetual braid and amethyst eyes so dark with lust that you can barely see the pupils. I’d say I’m pretty cute, but he makes me feel damn hot when he looks at me. He’s got this way of tilting his head to one side and letting his cold eyes bore into my soul. That may not sound appealing to you, but to be the focus of such an intense gaze can get me so damn worked up that it hurts.
I know I must have him at least a little hot and bothered. I’m wearing a black muscle shirt that clings to me, a studded collar he got me for Christmas, and my hottest pair of leather pants. The last time I wore these pants, we never even got out the door. He pushed me up against the wall and undid the buttons and… well, I guess these pants are my equivalent to what he’s got on.
He tosses his head, flinging some sweat off his hair, and gyrates his hips once, real quick.
How the hell he can keep his features perfectly stoic while he’s bein’ the biggest fucking tease is beyond me. Course, he always looks like that until he’s in bed. Heero’s expressions are a different story when he and I are having at it, and I think I’m the only one who knows it. He gets the greatest look of bliss when we go slow, his eyes closed and his brow tilted upward, with his lips parted like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. I always have to kiss him when he looks like that.
The spell between us breaks when I spot the girl edging towards him. She’s got black hair in some kind of bizarre up-do, way too much make-up and looks like she’s ready to have Heero, MY Heero, for dinner. I feel a flare of dark jealousy and anger well up inside me, but I leave the wicked grin on my face. I push off the bar stool hard enough to knock it over and cut through the writhing throng. The club is set up in a level system that keeps the dancers from being one giant mass. Heero is on the edge of the second tier and I take the stairs three at a time with ease.
When I reach the upper landing, I run a rough hand through my hair and move for the outskirts of the group. The bitch has moved up behind Heero and is doing her best to keep up with him. She’s got some moves… too bad he’s mine. I do have to say, Heero does a great job letting someone know that he’s not interested: he ignores them completely. This is exactly what he’s doing to the girl wriggling near his ass.
I stand back for a moment and watch him. Heero glances back towards the bar, his movements hitching just slightly when he realizes that I’m gone. His brow furrows a little with concern, or maybe confusion, before he turns my way. He stops dancing when our eyes meet and little Miss Hot-Stuff stops too. She follows my lover’s gaze to find me at the end of it, and I give her a demon’s grin.
I move towards them, that smile plastered on my face, and he grabs hold of my hips. He wastes no time, grinding into me. I let out a gasp that’s a little exaggerated and peer at her over Heero’s shoulder. We start moving together in a unison that can only be achieved with years of contact and love-making and I direct the first word I’ve said since I ordered beer hours ago at the black-haired girl who can’t take a hint.
“Shoo.”
With a look of ire dominating her petite features, she disappears into the crowd. I’m pretty sure she shot me the finger before she turned around, but I really don’t give a shit. I smirk at Heero and he gives me the slightest of smiles.
“Well, I think she was going to rape you,” I joke with a wiggle of my eyebrows.
Heero chuckles and leans in to taste the skin just below my ear, whispering as he does so, “Duo, let’s get out of here.”
This actually surprises me. I’d expected at least a little time to push his buttons, but he doesn’t seem like he is willing to wait. “But you just got here,” I point out and slide a hand down to grope his firm butt. The soft material of his jeans reminds me that I need to yell at him about wearing the damn things. “And what did I tell you about wearing these jeans in public! I always want to-”
He cuts me off by claiming my mouth in a hungry kiss. In an instant, I completely forgot what I wanted to say. The only thing I can do is wrap my arms around his neck and slide my tongue against his. Heero pulls away too soon, his cursed control still unbreakable as always, and admits, “I need you.” The words are breathy and almost… vulnerable. It nearly seems like, if I shot him down even after years of being together, that it would be crushing.
Not like I could tell that face no.
“Alright, let’s get out of here.”
He takes my hand and I let him lead me. The man is riddled with uncertainties that I still find everyday, but I’ll never be able to deny him anything. No matter what he does, he’ll always be mine. We don’t have to say the words; we know them in our hearts. We live those words with every caress and every petty argument that ends in kisses. Sure, I’ll give him a hard time about his stupid jeans when we get home, but he’ll wear them out again… and again, but no matter how many eyes check him out in that pair of wonderful blue-jeans, he’ll only wear them for me.
----------
TBC
Warning: Yaoi, if you don’t know what the word means, then you need to leave…
Pairing: Heero x Duo
Rating: M, just to be safe. Lots of cussing and talk of sex and dirty things O.o
Feedback: Yes please!
Archives: If you’d like, just give me credit where it’s due.
This is just a silly little one-shot I sat down and wrote. Duo’s POV about evil blue jeans. By the way, I own nothing, they belong to Bandai. If I did own these boys, I sure as hell wouldn’t be writing about them .
---------------
Oh god, he’s wearing THOSE jeans.
By now, you’d think he’d know what THOSE DAMN jeans do to me. We’ve been together for almost three years and he still insists on wearing them in public. It’s that one pair, the one that’s beaten up just enough to be perfectly soft under your fingertips. The pair with the hole that’s scant inches from his crotch; you could see just a glimpse of the tantalizing flesh of his thigh through that hole. They’re the pair that hugs his ass just right, showing off every taut muscle without looking too tight. There’s also a chain hanging from them, a chain I like to pull on when I want his attention. I bought those jeans for him ages ago, never actually expecting him to wear them, and now hate them for all the trouble they cause me… and love them at the same time.
I remember that I’m sitting at a bar, so I close my mouth as I watch him dance. The colorful lights catch on the chain as it bounces off his hip. It also catches my eye, but only for a moment before I drag the disobedient orbs back up his body. I briefly entertain the idea of imagining him naked on the dance floor, his muscular torso slicked with sweat as he moves to the hard beat. I can feel a wicked grin cut across my face as I flick my tongue over my lips and set my beer on the counter behind me.
He knows I’m watching him. He always knows and he always takes advantage of it, the cocky bastard. Heero Yuy, the ultimate cocky bastard. I don’t know how the hell I caught him, or how I have him still, but I’ve got this small inkling that he isn’t going anywhere. He’s never said the words… neither of us have, but I think he knows just like I do.
I slide down a little farther on my bar stool, spreading my legs just a touch as I do so. If he was in the mood to play games then I was going to play too. He had the gall to wear those DAMN JEANS when he came to meet me, so I’m going to push every button I know about. I can foresee him screwing me into the mattress so hard I’ll disappear, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck right now. Besides, I kind of like it when he does that.
I catch one Prussian blue eye flick my way, a sly glance that he passes over his shoulder so quickly I almost miss it. When he looks at me, I can only imagine what he sees: a skinny man, five-foot six with long russet hair that’s in a perpetual braid and amethyst eyes so dark with lust that you can barely see the pupils. I’d say I’m pretty cute, but he makes me feel damn hot when he looks at me. He’s got this way of tilting his head to one side and letting his cold eyes bore into my soul. That may not sound appealing to you, but to be the focus of such an intense gaze can get me so damn worked up that it hurts.
I know I must have him at least a little hot and bothered. I’m wearing a black muscle shirt that clings to me, a studded collar he got me for Christmas, and my hottest pair of leather pants. The last time I wore these pants, we never even got out the door. He pushed me up against the wall and undid the buttons and… well, I guess these pants are my equivalent to what he’s got on.
He tosses his head, flinging some sweat off his hair, and gyrates his hips once, real quick.
How the hell he can keep his features perfectly stoic while he’s bein’ the biggest fucking tease is beyond me. Course, he always looks like that until he’s in bed. Heero’s expressions are a different story when he and I are having at it, and I think I’m the only one who knows it. He gets the greatest look of bliss when we go slow, his eyes closed and his brow tilted upward, with his lips parted like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. I always have to kiss him when he looks like that.
The spell between us breaks when I spot the girl edging towards him. She’s got black hair in some kind of bizarre up-do, way too much make-up and looks like she’s ready to have Heero, MY Heero, for dinner. I feel a flare of dark jealousy and anger well up inside me, but I leave the wicked grin on my face. I push off the bar stool hard enough to knock it over and cut through the writhing throng. The club is set up in a level system that keeps the dancers from being one giant mass. Heero is on the edge of the second tier and I take the stairs three at a time with ease.
When I reach the upper landing, I run a rough hand through my hair and move for the outskirts of the group. The bitch has moved up behind Heero and is doing her best to keep up with him. She’s got some moves… too bad he’s mine. I do have to say, Heero does a great job letting someone know that he’s not interested: he ignores them completely. This is exactly what he’s doing to the girl wriggling near his ass.
I stand back for a moment and watch him. Heero glances back towards the bar, his movements hitching just slightly when he realizes that I’m gone. His brow furrows a little with concern, or maybe confusion, before he turns my way. He stops dancing when our eyes meet and little Miss Hot-Stuff stops too. She follows my lover’s gaze to find me at the end of it, and I give her a demon’s grin.
I move towards them, that smile plastered on my face, and he grabs hold of my hips. He wastes no time, grinding into me. I let out a gasp that’s a little exaggerated and peer at her over Heero’s shoulder. We start moving together in a unison that can only be achieved with years of contact and love-making and I direct the first word I’ve said since I ordered beer hours ago at the black-haired girl who can’t take a hint.
“Shoo.”
With a look of ire dominating her petite features, she disappears into the crowd. I’m pretty sure she shot me the finger before she turned around, but I really don’t give a shit. I smirk at Heero and he gives me the slightest of smiles.
“Well, I think she was going to rape you,” I joke with a wiggle of my eyebrows.
Heero chuckles and leans in to taste the skin just below my ear, whispering as he does so, “Duo, let’s get out of here.”
This actually surprises me. I’d expected at least a little time to push his buttons, but he doesn’t seem like he is willing to wait. “But you just got here,” I point out and slide a hand down to grope his firm butt. The soft material of his jeans reminds me that I need to yell at him about wearing the damn things. “And what did I tell you about wearing these jeans in public! I always want to-”
He cuts me off by claiming my mouth in a hungry kiss. In an instant, I completely forgot what I wanted to say. The only thing I can do is wrap my arms around his neck and slide my tongue against his. Heero pulls away too soon, his cursed control still unbreakable as always, and admits, “I need you.” The words are breathy and almost… vulnerable. It nearly seems like, if I shot him down even after years of being together, that it would be crushing.
Not like I could tell that face no.
“Alright, let’s get out of here.”
He takes my hand and I let him lead me. The man is riddled with uncertainties that I still find everyday, but I’ll never be able to deny him anything. No matter what he does, he’ll always be mine. We don’t have to say the words; we know them in our hearts. We live those words with every caress and every petty argument that ends in kisses. Sure, I’ll give him a hard time about his stupid jeans when we get home, but he’ll wear them out again… and again, but no matter how many eyes check him out in that pair of wonderful blue-jeans, he’ll only wear them for me.
----------
TBC