Never Kissed

DiScLaImEr: Gundam Wing (and all the many other Gundam Something characters out there) do NOT belong to me. They belong to
people like Sotsu Agency and Sunrise and Bandai and all the other companies in the world who own a piece of the GW pie. I only like
to borrow them and mthemthem act out weird and very risque stories for my own twisted amusement, and perhaps the amusement of
others. The only thing here I own is the storyline, which is pretty sad. GUNDAM WING IS NOT MINE.

WaRnInG: Let's see... this story contains coarse language, homosexual relationships between luscious boy toys, not to mention graphic sex scenes between luscious boy toys, and general silliness and stupidity. And what the hell, I may even throw in some bloody violence and drug abuse. I'll think about it. Now read on, if you don't have anything better to do, my perverted kin.

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"Never Kissed"
chapter II: The Morning After


The next morning life went on. I don't want to lead the readers to believe that Hiiro was my life, that he consumed all of my thoughts and that if I wasn't pissed or confused at him I was thinking of jumping his bones. Well, that would be lying.

When I woke up, my first thought was how much I needed to pee, actually. It was still early in the morning and hardly getting light, and I didn't want to move and I just knew that if I got up and pissed that I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, so better to lie there and suffer than to take care of something so simple. Well am I the only person who does this?

Finally I made myself come out of my doze so I could get rid of the growing pain in my bladder. By then it was getting bright in my room, andn I n I was clearminded enough to realize I had one more problem: a sleeping Japanese boy in the bed a few feet away from me. The problem was that I'd have to face him. I'd have to look at him, and know he remembered last night, and know that I did too. If I thought that last minute fuck resolved anything, I would be off my rocker.

I couldn't hear him, and I was much too afraid to look over and chance finding him awake, so I lay there. I was still in pain from having to piss. Mentally I kicked myself for being so stupid and obsessed with his reactions, his words, his looks. I really do PROMISE that I don't normally think about him this often usually. But the Morning-After episodes are always exceptions.

Eventually, as casually as I could, I rolled out of bed and stretched, yawning and scratching my favorite places. I was naked, and dirty from the night before, so I made my way to the bathroom. I glanced at his bed out of the corner of my eye, but did not let on my shock as he wasn't there. Hiiro's a ninja; he jumps out of dark corners and sometimes out of corners not so dark. That sounds smart I know. What I mean is... he's a ninja. Let's leave it.

yes yes still behind me, I very nearly pissed on the floor when he swung from behind the doorframe in front of me. I clutched my hair as he swooped in almost nose to nose with me, eyebrow quirked and a smirk on his face. My hand moved to my lower abdomen and the painful throbbing there, as if my spreading my fingers there I could keep the urine from escaping. I hoped I could.

"Wanna take a shower with me? For the conservation of water, of course." No good morning, or how d'ya do, nothing. I bit my lip and pasted on my best flirty smile.

"Why Dr. Pierce, I hardly know you," I replied, twisting one hanging sideburn around my finger. He blinked at me the way he always did when I made a random allusion to something he knew nothing about. Which was everything, when it came to my sense of humor. That's just Hiiro. C'mon, YOU get it don't you?

Instead of asking me to explain it he grabbed me and pulled me towards him and the shower. It was a full three seconds before I felt the urge to resist; and when I felt it, I did. Although he could've easily hauled me in there anyway, he stopped. I imagined he was surprised. I had NEVER defied him before, not ever.

"Stop, I gotta piss like a racehorse. You're going to make me go all over the place." He took my hands and put them around him languidly, and reached his around my waist.

"You know Duo, when the human male becomes aroused, a special valve closes..."

"Which is why I want to go NOW, before one of my vital organs explodes!" I interrupted him, pushing away. Hastily I positioned myself in front of the toilet, and tried to pee. I felt him watching me. Even though I still ached, I couldn't go. Well I CAN'T do it if someone's watching me...!

"Dude, come on." I waited. He didn't move. "I can't pee if someone's watching me, I really can't."

He sidled up behind me, almost touching. I was holding myself, waiting, praying he wouldn't touch me.

After a week of pain in my bladder that must have been worse than the leg wound of our first night, he turned away and left the bathroom. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself to urinate, and it was the most satisfying experience of my life. Finally peeing after waiting so long is better than sex, I'd say. Notice statements like these only come from people gettin' it on a regular basis.

"Too regular," I said aloud as I shook one, two, three times. Didn't really matter, if you thought about it; it wasn't like I was going to get dribble spots on my pants. Did I mention I was naked?

I washed my hands, waiting for Hiiro to step back into the bathroom and harass me again. I turned around and he was right there, leaning against the doorframe, looking cool and miserable and hateful all at the same time. You must understand, this was how he usually appeared. There was something so attractive about that curling frown, his dark severe eyes. I loved to look at him. Even now, I loved to look at him. Especially since he was just as nude as myself, and, once more, completely oblivious to it.

Hiiro was a bit like a drug. Do you remember the first time you got stoned? That was like our first time: utterly amazing, completely revolutionary. Unbelievable. Then, the next weekend yot bat baked again, and it's just as great. Another Friday rolls around and you have to lace it to get the same high. Pretty soon you're doing it all the time and it's getting a little old, but you keep smoking it 'cause you want that feeling again. Now, you can't stop, you're addicted, you don't quite want it to end but you want it to change... that's how it was with Hiiro. I wanted it to change. I wasn't sure what, but he wasn't... uh, getting me fried anymore.

Well, gee, I see we've all received a little piece of insight into MY life, haven't we? Don't worry; the only thing I'm addicted to is him. And maybe pocky.

So, like I said, I wanted something to change. I didn't want to feel what I felt last night anymore. I didn't want to be scared and filled with dread at his reactions, or even the thought of how he might react. Because I really was, you know. I'm not sure exactly what I'm afraid of. Is it that I'm afraid he'll hurt me, or something? No. I've never been frightened of physical confrontation (obviously)... I supposed it had something to do with lust and loneliness and the crush I'd had on him forever. Do crushes end when you become a couple? Because I still had a crush on him. But then, who in the hell would call us a couple?

A crush is when... you want somebody. Depending on when you have it, from grade school to high school or whenever, it could be writing your first name with their last name on your folders, or thinking how nice it'd be to hold his hand or kiss her lips, or even wondering what kind of lay they'd make.

Before sleeping with him, I had thought of all these things. Yeah, I know, right down to the name. Duo Yui. What do you think? Sounds terrible, I know.

Yet, I still thought about them. Well, I didn't exactly wonder how he was in the sack; I knew the answer to that very well by this point, but I still wanted something from him, about him. Actually, I'd never held his hand, you know. And until last night, I did not know what his mouth tasted like. Too bad it was such a horrible kiss.

This deep psychological self-analyzation seems to point all in one direction: that, pure and simple, I want more than a fuck buddy, I want something infinitely more sappy and gooey, something that could be made into a Disney movie, something that would end unerringly with birds singing and mice dancing. And also, flowers. Don't forget the flowers.

Well, I'm not so sure that's true, see. Granted, he makes me feel used and I hate it, but I love it at the same time. I just said I wanted something to change, I don't want him to propose to me, for Death's sake.

I remember when all I wanted from him was a good time. I used to fantasize about him, listening to him breathe either a few feet away from me or right next to me, when the situation arose where we had to share a bed. He always did it begrudgingly, and I pretended to have the same attitude, but secretly I longed to reach for him. I closed my eyes and imagined what I'd do, how he'd respond, first shocked, then willing... I had long daydreams of such scenarios, with only slight variations. I'm a master of slight variations.

Then one day, it was reality. Bam. Perfect. Everything I wanted. And I do mean everything I wanted, for Hiiro was the definition of perfection in everything he did or was. Except what I seemed to want now.

At the first onset of these feelings, I rationalized them off in all kinds of different ways. Let's be realistic here, I am not the first person in a strictly physical relationship to yearn for more. It's normal. It's natural. It's human.

So, of course, it's not Hiiro.

But what it came down to was this: number one, I was not about to throw away what every lusty young teenager wants over silly, confusing, fleeting emotions. Love, or even affection, would seriously complicate an otherwise perfect relationship--sex without strings. Two, the probability to Hiiro's feeling the same way was about equal to a snowball's chance in Hell. And three, if the first two obstacles were overcome, and I let him get close to my heart, he would almost certainly and promptly die. Bad things happen in threes, you know. It's been about seven years. It's nearly time for someone else important to me in my life to buy the farm.

Ok, I've been on a tangent long enough. Hiiro's still leaning there, waiting for something, and I've only been drying my hands on this old rag for about five minutes now.

"Hiiro." I pointed at him. "Did you know you're not wearing any clothes?" Really now. He deserved to know.

He didn't say anything, probably not dignifying something so dumb with a reply, as he always did. He only listened to what I said when it was something close to important... in other words, he didn't hear much of what I said to him.

So he continued to stand there, in that same fixed position, arms crossed, eyes hard and curious, his pretty mouth an unhappy sneer. He puckered his lips, pouted a bit, then opened his mouth.

"Hm... What's gotten into you, can I ask?"

"Why darling. Of course you can *ask*. You can do anything you want, can't you? Don't you always?" I brushed past him, cringing at my own words. Christ, I sounded just like a woman. I was not meaning to give so much away with my brusque little comebacks either. At least if I was a woman I might leave him mystified.

I was thinking about the difference between love and lust, thinking hard, as I walked to my bed and crawled back under the covers. Why should I stay up anyway? I was tired. Activities from the night before were to blame, no doubt. I felt a stab of some unpleasant emotion. Swallowed it, turned over, and started concentrating on how dusty the shutters were on the tiny window on the east wall. My eyes focused on something rumpled on my mattress obstructing my view. I picked it up. My T-shirt. It reeked of sex. Frustrated I threw it on the floor, wishing I could hear something shatter instead of the dull thud of the plain cotton fabric landing on the carpet. I wanted to break something suddenly, smash it into a thousand pieces. I wanted to crush some valuable, fragile object and listen to the splintering cracking of its pieces being destroyed by my own hand. Breaking stuff can relieve stress, you know. You know? I know.

I felt Hiiro watch me as I stood up and ripped the sheets and blankets off my bed. They all reeked of sex; *I* reeked of sex. Too abashed to turn back in his direction and go to the bathroom so I could shower, I settled with putting his nice clean bedclothes on my bed. Then I buried myself underneath the covers. I couldn't take that silent, judgmental glare anymore. It was driving me crazy.

He must've thought I wanted attention. Maybe I did. Maybe, in a way. You know, I'm not really sure of myself sometimes. That's one thing about Hiiro that drives me fucking NUTS. All he has to do is look at me and know what's going on, usually. Just one little glance. I don't know whether to be pleased or pissed when he does that. I mean, does that mean he's attuned to me or something, or is it just another little piece of perfection? Package deal, you know what I'm saying? I was so sick of his perfection. Granted, I could find a million little flaws in his character. But those only seemed to contribute more to this machine-like image he upheld. He was an asshole because he couldn't afford to be anything else. God DAMMIT, I wanted nothing more than to see him break down sometimes, like I did. Didn't it ever get to him? Didn't anything affect him? Hurt him?

So it comes out. I wanted to break something. I wanted Hiiro to hurt. To cry. To break. Did I really? I felt his knee resting on the corner of the mattress again, hesitantly, just like last night.

Yes, I really did.

Calm down. It's not like I wanted to hurt him myself. It may sound like that, but I don't think I really could. Anyway, I'm not talking about pulling a gun on him and blowing his goddam shoulder out. I absolutely knew that even if I wanted to, I could never hurt him that way (again, that is). It'd probably be a bloody favor to him in the first place. No, I wanted desperately for him to hurt like I did: inside. I wanted him to experience the terror, the torture, the dread and confusion, the deep painful sadness and the inherent fear of my curse. I lived with all these things, most of them new additions thanks to you-know-who, and I wanted him to know what it was like. Never before had I doubted the hardship of Hiiro's life, never before had I wondered really at his past, his crosses to bear. But I did then.

Tired of waiting for me to respond, I guess, he went ahead and placed all his weight on my bed. I felt the springs rock gently beneath me and forced myself not to kick my legs backwards and topple him off onto the floor. Not that it would have worked, mind you.

Part of me really wanted him to join me. Part of me wanted desperately for him to slide under the warm shell of those blankets and wriggle up next to me. I DID want the attention, I did. I craved for those warm arms to wrap around me reassuringly, that body to mold itself against mine in a friendly, loving embrace...

But that was just it. Did I really know I wanted it? It's not like I had ever known that feeling before. But don't knock it till you try it, they say. I'm more than willing enough to try, but, unfortunately, two willing parties' consent was needed in this situation. Jesus, what have I gotten myself into? This SUCKS!

He didn’t curl up next to me under the blankets; he didn’t even touch me. He just sat there, on the corner of my bed, and watched me. Thinking hard, I suppose, about his silly little rienriend who for some enigmatic reason did not feel like fucking around right then. Does he understand? I wondered. As amazingly intelligent as he is, I think the world of emotions leaves him a little confused. I reminded myself how different we were. Like it’s that easy to forget in the first place.

“What is it that you want?” He broke the silence, surprisingly. Even more surprising was the plaintive tone in his question. It sounded as if he really wanted to know.

I peeked over the comforter at him. It looked as if he really wanted to know, too. He stared at me, arms crossed, his brows knit in what could only have been honest confusion. I sat up, pulling the blanket around me so that only my head showed.

"I don't know what I want, Hiiro." That was the truth.

He licked his lips and breathed deeply. His mouth formed a word but it didn't come out.

Finally, he murmured, "Do you know if I can give it to you?"

My jaw dropped a little when he asked me that. I appraised him again, more carefully now. His bottomless blue eyes stared back, still wrought with what looked like perplexity and... concern? Had to be. I was stunned.

"How do you know you can give me what I want anyway?" I checked myself hurriedly, remembering not to let myself be swayed so easily. I'm a pretty tough guy, all in all, except when it comes to him. The one who makes my heart ache and my stomach flutter. The one who pats me on the head when he's done with me. I narrowed my eyes at him grimly.

He was getting annoyed with me again, I could see it plainly. In the way his mouth curled and his eyes lowered away from my face. He was giving up.

"Tired of playing games, Duo," he muttered, his tone void of anger but filled with something else, an air of exasperation and impatience, as if he was dealing with an unruly 2 year old. In a few seconds he would turn away, turn away and leave my bed and not much would have changed, because he would still come back to me to take care of his need. And I would welcome him eagerly, desperately, same as always, and afterwards he would pet my head and tell me good night. I didn't know what to do. Suddenly I found myself clutching his arm. I don't know how it got there, but he had moved and my fingers had wrapped around his wrist. I looked up and locked gazes with him.

"No, I don't think you are tired of playing games, because we both play the same one every time we are together." I tried to judge his expression but he gave nothing away; I could only tell that he was listening to me. "Hiiro, this... it can't go on like this." I had no idea how to explain it to him, what I wanted, and needed from him. I didn't even know myself. I closed my eyes and searched for the answer, but before it came, Hiiro interrupted my thoughts with his low, gruff voice.

"Did you know last night was my first kiss?" he said conversationally. My eyes flew open and I was once again confronted by those deep, ice-colored eyes as they peered into mine. I hadn't even thought about it. His first kiss? I wouldn't have thought that something like a first kiss would matter to him.

"I'm sorry." It was all I could think to say. My fingers were still wrapped around his arm, but I didn't let go, and he didn't seem to care. All he did was keep looking into my eyes.

"There's no reason for you to be sorry," he replied in that same casual tone. "Last night I told you not to do it again." He finally broke the stare between us, and instead looked down at my hand, the one that was on his arm. I thought he was finished but he still went on.

"Actually, I didn't mind that much, to tell the truth." He touched my hand, and the contact was electrifying. Touched it, and slipped his rough calloused fingers over my knuckles and stopped, his hand cupping the back of mine. When I raised my eyes again he levelled his gaze at me.
"Duo, over the past few months I have grown very... affectionate of you. Sometimes, I don't know how to show it. Most of the time, actually. And I see you're getting frustrated with me." His eyes swept over me, past my exposed abdomen and chest, over the hair that had unravelled
from its braid and was lying in loose waves over my shoulders and back. I wondered absently where the little black rubber band that had held it was. I lose one of those rubber bands every day, I s to to God.

"Well, I'm glad I could be the one to give you your first kiss." His eyes came back to mine.
"I only wish it hadn't been so terrible. You know, I'm not usually such a sloppy kisser." I
looked at him hopefully, smiling, and he smiled back. It came slowly, almost painfully,
bringing out his dimples and filling his eyes with warm light. Man, he was so beautiful. Maybe
I have just been kidding myself in thinking I never needed him as more than a lover. He
squeezed my hand, and suddenly I was aware of the heat in my face and the ache in my throat and
the hammering in my chest. I swallowed hard. It was such a stronger feeling than lust, I
realized.

Hiiro's eyes twinkled. "Would you... like to try it again?" My eyes widened, and I tried to respond, but all I managed was a dry squeak. All of the moisture was gone from my mouth. I
nodded.

His hand moved from my hand to my shoulder, pressing me back slightly into the pillows. He slided next to me and lowered his face next to mine, close enough so that I could feel his
soft breath on my lip. As I inhaled his scent, I realized his breath wasn't all that great.
It looked as if even the Perfect Soldier suffered from morning breath, just like everyone else.
The thought made me inexplicably happy.

I kissed him gently, so gently, feeling his soft lower lip between mine and hardly able to
believe it. At first his mouth was motionless against my own, then he tentativly began to move
his lips, kissing me back. I shuddered into his mouth and reached my hand up to his face,
brushing my fingers across the peach fuzz of his cheek, then working them up into his hairline,
burying them there into the soft thickness of his hair.

He pulled back, hesitated, then leaned forward again, pushing me back farther and beginning to kiss me with more urgency, and I responded likewise. Funny though that it didn't feel carnal
or primal. It was desire but not libido, passion but not lust. I was hardly even conscious of
the rest of my body. I only wanted to savor his taste.

At last I used my tongue to delicately part his lips and experimentally flicked it across the
inside of his palate. He paused, registering this, and then opened his mouth more to me. I
tasted the silkiness of his mouth and pulled back, nibbling softly on his lip. I was having
a sensory overload, and just from his mouth.

Simultaneously we pulled apart, both of us breathing hard. Hiiro was lying for the most part on
top of me, and I looked up at him.

"Well?" I asked.

He gazed tenderly down at me, his eyes still full of that warm light.

"Better," he returned, feigning indifference, but his face told a different story. He leaned
down and placed a dry kiss on my forehead, a gesture so chaste and full of affection I felt
my heart jump into my throat again.

Suddenly inspiration struck me and I grinned. I sat up and peeled the blankets back from under
him, revealing the linty sheets beneath. After a moment, Hiiro tucked his body in next to mine
and pulled the covers back over us, shifting until he was comfortably beside me. Gingerly I
slid my arm over his torso and laid my head into the hollow between his neck and shoulder.

I guess it's going to be different from now on.