Break me down

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Heero smirked; no uncertainty left on his face, turned around, and calmly walked into the bedroom, knowing Trowa was gaining on his every step.

As Heero crossed the threshold of the bedroom, he felt long arms wrap around his waist and his pace increase as Trowa’s inertia increased his own. Heero shivered as those hands traveled up his chest, the thin material of his shirt gathering and rippling, pressed between his skin and Trowa’s.

Heero’s head fell back as Trowa pressed his body against his, chest to thighs. With the taste of the Wing pilot’s mouth still fresh in his mind, the acrobat took advantage of the opening, dropping his lips to his neck, letting his tongue slide over the smooth skin, reveling in the hint of salt here, comparing the different facets of tastes along Heero’s body.

Heero’s head turned, mouth stretching for the other’s lips as his arm reached up and gripped the back of Trowa’s neck. But Trowa tensed at the unexpected touch, and Heero froze for an instant before blue eyes hardened, hand pulling Trowa’s face to his, crushing their mouths together.

Trowa felt heat incase his body and the flow of his blood shift, his cock half hard and growing steadily. Heero pushed backwards, grinding his ass against it, bringing both of their bodies to full attention. Trowa shuddered, just one instant of uncontrolled desire and Heero took advantage, using his strength and surprise; he turned and flung Trowa onto the bed.

Instincts kicked in and Trowa’s arms were up, legs ready to propel himself off even as he landed, but Heero wasn’t attacking. He was slowly crawling onto the other side of the bed, arms up over his head as he stripped his shirt off.

Heero’s eyes were dark with want, pinning green eyes in place, daring him to look away as he tossed his shirt to the floor. “This thing between us, do you want it?”

“Yes.” Trowa let the tension in his body go, melting into the bed where Heero had put him.

“Do you want me?” Heero was steadily crawling toward him as he spoke.

“Yes.” Heero was emphasizing every word, and Trowa wondered what was coming for him to review what was already discussed, what they both already knew.

“Trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Will you let me touch you?” Heero hovered over Trowa now, face above his chest, hands supporting his body weight, sinking into the mattress only inches from Trowa’s leg.

Trowa swallowed visibly, throat tight. “Yes.”

“Then take off your shirt.”

A jolt ran down his spine and his groin clenched, cock jumping in his pants with the order. Trowa had never been submissive in bed, didn’t think he would enjoy it. But with the reaction he just got from Heero’s dominant behavior, maybe he was wrong. Something to explore some other time, maybe…

He leaned up, took his shirt off, and laid back down, arms tense at his sides as Heero closed the distance between them. Heero’s hand hovered over his cheek, and Trowa’s eyes were glued to it as if his life depended on it.

“Close your eyes, Trowa.”

He hesitated but did as he was ordered, expecting the hand to run along his skin any second.

But the touch never came, only the warmth of Heero’s hand hovering mere millimeters away. Trowa felt that caress of warmth travel from his cheek, down to cup over his neck, and pool along his collar bone. He felt the warm breeze of Heero’s breath ripple across his ear, and his whole body flushed with heat, bubbling up his neck and across his scalp.

Trowa felt those hot hands grope the air over his chest, palms floating over him, then single down over the points of his nipples, heat from his fingertips radiating, teasing, nearly touching, almost, almost, but not.

The warmth of his fingers moved lower, settling into the creases of his abs as Heero blew a hot stream of air onto one nipple. Trowa gasped as Heero circled the point of his chest, a whirlpool of hot breath over the sensitive flesh as one of those hands ran a line of heat above the waistband of his jeans, teasing then traveled up again back to his nipples.

Trowa was panting, gasping for air, the sensation causing his breathing to become erratic, chest spasming, which brought him that much closer to the touch.

And he wanted it.

For the first time in his life, Trowa wanted so badly to be touched that he could taste it, but Heero’s hands continued to give him nothing but a heat wave and fiery air.

Trowa felt that warmth of both hands travel down, down, and stop; a wall of heat bearing down over the waistband of his jeans. His skin felt too tight, goosebumps exploding along his flesh from his ankles to his ass; his temperature was steadily rising, jeans entirely too tight for comfort.

Heero’s fingernails scraped across the rough denim Trowa was wearing. The vibrations of nails along the stiff fibers resting against his cock rocked the stoic man; he felt the reverberations travel from his cock, up his spine, and ring in his ears like a gong. The sudden sensation of touch after what felt like years without, and right over the center of his universe, Trowa’s balls tightened, cock jumping, and he almost lost it right there.

Air returned to his lungs, and Trowa realized Heero was talking to him, probably had been, repeating what was said if the laughter in his voice meant anything.

“These need to come off.” His voice showed how amused he was with the situation, but Trowa couldn’t breathe well enough to call him out for it.

Trowa’s hands, normally sure and steady, fumbled at the button, unable to release it for several seconds. Heero watched every one, simultaneously amused and increasingly turned on by how his actions had reduced the most stoic of the pilots to a creature of need.

Finally the pressure on his cock eased as the button slipped and Trowa pushed the zipper down. He slid his hands under the waistbands of his underwear and jeans and pushed, trying to lift his hips and inch the tight pants down at the same time, but his coordination was somewhat hindered right now. He kicked his shoes off with only minor difficulty, but the pants were still stuck, and he felt like he was hyperventilating with every second he stayed clothed, trying harder and harder, breathing harder and harder.

And why the hell did he wear jeans that were this tight?

Heero took hold of the hems of Trowa’s pant-legs and, as Trowa struggled to push them down, Heero gave a yank, causing the denim to shear across the skin of the performer’s hips and down his legs. Trowa gasped as his groin and hips were suddenly exposed to the cool air.

Blue eyes feasted on the body beneath him, Trowa was a fantastic specimen of man. His upper body was toned, cut like a knife due to his line of work, long and lean but built in the chest and shoulders. His stomach rippled with muscles, his balance relying on strong core musculature that drew the eyes downward. Heero’s mouth watered when he saw Trowa’s cock, it was long, proportional to the tall pilot, but thick, and he wondered if he could take it all in one thrust.

Heero’s ass clenched at the thought, respiratory rate elevating, wanting to speed this along in order to find out, but refused.

He would have Trowa begging for his touch before giving in…but the mental visual of Trowa begging made Heero’s temperature skyrocket. Heero thought he might end up begging Trowa to beg him, just so he could end it all, cease the teasing and race each other to climax.

Pants caught at his ankles, boxer briefs hanging out around his knees, hair matted to his forehead, face flushed, mouth gaping with his jagged breathing, Trowa looked a bit of a mess, but he was a vision of perfection to Heero, and his eyes drank in every inch of the exposed man, slowly dragging the clothes off, sliding the differing materials across sensitive skin, wondering if Trowa realized this was the last sensation of touch he was going to get for a while.

Heero reveled in the upcoming torture; he wanted to hear the always composed pilot pleading for his touch. He had to shift his weight to take the growing pressure off his balls; they were aching, but it was worth it for the vision Trowa was currently gifting him with.

Trowa wasn’t thinking much of anything, he was living in the sensations Heero was providing. The slow slide of his underwear grinding down his legs, up over his ankles, kissing his toes as Heero dangled the fabric for half a second then gone, nothing but cool air stimulating his over-heated flesh.

The warmth of his hands skimmed along the arches of his feet, swirled over his toes and back down to swing around the outside of his ankles as a warm stream of air flowed over his toes. Trowa calmed, relaxing into the warm blanket at his feet until Heero’s hands moved up. The non-touch over the smoother skin of his neck and chest changed to the catch and ripple of Heero’s fingers threading through the hair on his legs. He never touched the skin, but the sensation of those hairs folding backwards sent chills up his body which collided with the fire in his groin and caused him to arch up, eyes springing open, panting again as his breath left him at the sensation of pinpricks traveling up his thighs and over his cock.

Heero continued to let his fingers rake through, circling and swirling, watching every jerk and twitch. “I wonder if its possible to make you come without ever touching you.”

“Damn you.” Trowa panted, squeezing his eyes shut, as Heero backed off, only the heat of his hands hovering over the muscles of Trowa’s calves.

“Hn.” Heero blew through the disturbed hair causing them to flutter and fold in the warm the air.

Heero’s hands moved up, coating the inside of his knees with warmth and moving up, sliding up the sensitive skin of Trowa’s inner thighs. The acrobat spread his legs, simultaneously removing any difficulty in reaching his most intimate areas and allowing more space for Heero to continue his game.

Hot breath washed across Trowa’s groin, fingers tickling across the reddish hair at the base of his cock causing it to jump, lifting towards Heero’s mouth. Hands settled right over his balls, letting the warmth of those hands coat them, rocking the heat back and forth like he was rolling them around in his hands.

“Shit.” Trowa breathed; he felt like he was boiling, simmering. His body was shaking, straining towards the touch that was so close, so close, but damn far.

The heat of Heero’s hand wrapped around his shaft, and Trowa broke. “Please.”

Dropping down over that angry, red shaft, Heero exhaled, “Again.”

“Please, Heero.” His voice was strained, like he was choking on the words.

The Wing pilot ran his thumb up his cock then ran his fingers along the ridge of the head; Trowa hissed in response, demanding. “Damnit, Heero!”

Heero swallowed half his length, and Trowa’s back arched up, spasming, mouth gaping open, fists clenched in the sheets. It took every ounce of Trowa’s control not to spill himself into Heero’s mouth right then.

As Trowa’s mind dissolved in the heat of Heero’s mouth surrounding his cock, Heero used his free hand to slide his spandex down.

The acrobat would feel the alternating of that mouth sucking and sliding along his cock then the tight grip and pressure of his hand then his mouth again. And every sensation caused a different reaction, his stomach jumping and spasming, hips thrusting up, nerves burning a path through his body, ears ringing with the pressure.

Trowa felt the bed shift but didn’t really register it until he felt Heero’s mouth on his. Green eyes burned into blue as Trowa poured his frustrations into that kiss, tasting himself on Heero’s tongue, and craving some form of action besides the stasis of lying still, subject to sensation.

One of Heero’s hands had a fierce grip on Trowa’s cock, the other around his neck, buried in his fine hair, pulling his face into his kiss. And Trowa reveled in the feeling until he felt the head of his cock bump against Heero’s ass.

His hands gripped Heero’s hips stalling everything, pulling his mouth from Heero’s. “No.”

Heero stopped, panting. “What’s wrong?”

“I won’t hurt you.” They were both reaching for air, chests struggling to draw it in.

“Its fine; I’m ready.” Heero tried to reclaim his mouth, but Trowa turned away.

“There’s lotion in the nightstand.” Trowa’s eyes directed him the drawer that was out of his reach.

Heero groaned but relented, shifted his weight off the man beneath him to dig in the drawer and came back with a handful of cream which was promptly wrapped around Trowa’s cock, pumping the lubrication along the shaft.

Trowa still stalled. “You…”

But Heero cut him off, “I stretched myself already,” then began pushing his hips back onto Trowa.

The performer’s eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation of Heero’s ass spreading to make room for his cock. He was so tight, like a fist surrounding him, a hot vacuum of sensation.

Heero pulled their mouths together, wanting the intimacy of being locked together in two places. He lowered himself slowly onto Trowa’s length, feeling the slick head against his opening, gasping at the sensation of being parted. He lost sight of everything except the feel of Trowa’s cock pulsing against him, in him, the feeling of that shaft getting thicker and thicker until the head was swallowed, he felt every millimeter as he slid down.

It was amazing, the sensation of Trowa’s cock gliding into his passage. There was a slight burn, and he felt stretched to his limit, so full, but so close to something more, he kept sliding down until he felt his ass come in contact with Trowa’s thighs.

And he could breath again, Heero hadn’t realized he had stopped; every ounce of concentration had gone into feeling and experiencing the joining. Its what he had wanted for so long. And now, here he was, straddling Trowa’s body, feeling the press and pulse of his cock inside him, even breathing felt like too much pressure. The acrobat filled him to the brink, and Heero dare not move yet for fear of losing himself to orgasm and ending it all too soon.

Trowa buried one hand in Heero’s hair, pulling his head back, away from the kiss to watch his face. He watched every nuance, searching for any hint of pain, concerned for his companion. Heero’s face was stripped bare of all training, completely taken by pleasure; he was beautiful, and the performer was in awe of the man before him. He brought both hands to skim over the muscles at his chest, gentle fingertips gliding over his bronzed skin. Just to touch such perfection, Trowa’s throat was tight with the thought.

Heero came back to himself with the tender touch, eyes opening to a look of wonder across Trowa’s face. He lifted himself and lowered, watching as green eyes rolled backward with a groan.

“Are you going to move, or am I doing this by myself?” Heero’s smartass comment brought Trowa’s hands up to grip his hips.

“I don’t know; you’re doing fine on your own.” His response was breathy, but he made his point as his grip hardened, and he thrust up into the next downward slide.

Heero gasped at the sensation of Trowa hitting the end of him, it felt like the echo of a drum beat within him, heartbeat striding to keep up with it.

Trowa bent his legs up, planting his feet into the bed for a better thrust, but the position tipped Heero’s body forward slightly. The modification had Trowa’s cock slamming up into his sweet spot with every other thrust. Heero’s mouth opened in a silent cry as he was plunged into an explosion of sensation, living inside a shockwave of lightning traveling along every nerve, ass grinding down into every thrust to prolong the feeling.

And Trowa felt every spasm of his channel clamping down on his, shoving himself up into heaven and drawing back down to repeat it all over again.

They had been wanting for too long. This position, this pace, this intensity, it couldn’t last long no matter their control.

Heero cried out as Trowa gripped his length, pumping once, twice, in rhythm with his cock, and Heero fell over the edge, skin crawling with sensation; he felt static in his ears, blood pumping white-hot pleasure through his veins as everything narrowed down to the place where they were joined. He could feel his channel spasming around Trowa’s throbbing cock.

The acrobat’s back arched, body convulsing as he climaxed, uncontrolled desire spilling from him as fire ripped through his body, voice not his own as he groaned Heero’s name with every pulse of his seed from his length.

‘Just breathe, just remember how to breathe.’

As they came down from their highs, Heero found enough strength to pull himself off Trowa and fell over, landing beside him on top of the sheets. Trowa turned his head to look at his new lover. “Why did we wait so long to do this?”

Heero chuckled. “We would still be waiting if it wasn’t for me.”

Trowa rolled his eyes. “Details.”

An odd expression overcame Heero’s face. “I’m leaking.” He frowned as he realized the side effect of being a bottom.

Trowa laughed, sitting up, but groaned as soon as his overused legs had to pull him to standing. “I’ll get you a towel.” He spoke as he walked to the bathroom; he needed one himself to wipe Heero’s seed from his stomach and chest.

After the awkwardness of cleaning themselves after the steamy session, they settled into bed. They were both sweaty, sticky, and not at all inclined to cuddle in their current state…but…

Overcoming their aversion to touch was what brought them together, and as their consciousnesses faded into sleep their hands found each other, fingers twining together in a casual embrace, free of the passion they had used to jump the first hurdle.

It wasn’t much, but it was a nice start.

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Edited 11.17.09

Hope you liked it. This fic is the epitome of my thoughts/feelings of how 01 and 03 really feel about each other. This fic is complete, but I may try to write an epilogue in the future. Not sure yet.

Aestas