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He Never Lies	By : NowickiKitty Category: Gundam Wing/AC > General Views: 459 -:- Recommendations : 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.

Chapter List
- 1-He Never Lies
- 1
He Never Lies

2xOC
Angst/Smut/PWP/Deathfic/Romance
~~~~~~~~~~
It’s beautiful, this delicate thing called life. Like baby’s breath. And yet it is so potent. So potent. It changes everything. It is changed by everything. Love. Especially love.
Love. What a novel idea. Such a thing is so simple, yet complex. It has started wars, ended lives. It has ended wars and started lives. It is as driving a force as beliefs. It is a belief. Nothing is as biting and gentle as love. Love is thorned silk. Or is it silken thorns? No matter, it is what it is. Love.
Sunset, the death of the day or birth of the night? It is brilliant in splendor and colour. Demanding all focus and attention on it, draining the colour out of the surroundings of the Earth, enhancing its beauty. It is so bold and yet bleeds out so soon. It dares not remain too long.
It is setting now, the park awash with the golden light, foliage dark against the orange and pink backdrop. The exact same sunset he left me during only six months ago. In the very same park. Time stands still while I await him. He told me he’d be back.
He promised.
Duo Maxwell never lies.
*~*~*FLASHBACK*~*~*
“Duo?”
“I told you, nothing happened. I was just closing up shop. Remember? He runs, he hides, but he never lies-”
“Duo Maxwell…”
Yes, she remembered. He had told her that after she busted him out of OZ’s holding facility. How could she doubt his words?
*~*~* END FLASHBACK *~*~*
The death of the day has ended, the birth of the night smothering out the sun’s rays, bathing silver light from the moon. The bench I sit upon is cold and hard. No one takes the time to sit down anymore. It’s a constant rush from bed to work to bed. It is a luxury that I can, at least for now, afford. I don’t know how long I have left. Does anyone?
A tunnel appears in my vision, focus riveted to the only flower growing in this place; a forget-me-not. He planted it here, when we first celebrated the sensory dance of love on this colony. Our sweat slicked skin glistened and created friction as we moved together. I could almost see us then, how happy we were…
*~*~* *~*~*
“Duo, do you think that the colonies will ever be able to overcome their strife? Will there ever be homeostasis in the Earth Alliance? Or are we just fighting the futile fight of stubborn ass optimists that are just going to end up fucked up the ass?” I wrapped my arms around my bent legs, trying to focus on my line of questioning and not the way his muscles tensed and relaxed while he worked on digging a hole, sweat dripping down from his pores from the heat of that summer day.
He nary paused in his task, only looking at me over his shoulder with a cocked brow. He was amused with how I tried to hide myself from him, uncomfortable with the tight clothes provided by a mutual friend on L2 to combat the faulty weather control. He had told me that the jeans accentuated my long, lean legs -I thought they made my legs look pale and disproportionate to my small-ish frame, riding up my ass uncomfortably. I don’t even want to think about the shirt, if you could call it that. More like a scrap of nylon tied at the back and nape of neck allowing almost everything to show. At that moment I was trying to hide my hardened nipples from him. He didn’t need any inflations to his ego from me.
I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t turned on by him. I was always turned on and ready for him. He was a gentle lover, a gentle person. He hid behind bravado and attitude when on the battlefield, but that was never a lie. He hid behind humour and charm when out and about. He was always hiding, but not so. He was open and accessible as a book. A mystery thriller, filled with action, adventure, sex, explosions and devoid of ending and beginning. A mystery that I was so close to cracking.
“I think,” he was murmured as he packed the soil off to one side, “that you have too much time,” he lowered the small plant to the hole, covered it’s exposed roots with the displaced dirt, “to think.”
I shifted, curious as to why he wanted to take me to that park, and watch him plant a small, scraggly looking twig. He sat back, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his smudged hand, violet eyes rested silently on me, awaiting a rebuttal. Nothing stirred or moved while we sat there, staring at each other.
I broke the trance, scooting to examine his labour. His attempts appeared futile to me, no sprig of green was left on the leaves, no moisture reached by its thirsty roots. It was as dead to me as the grass of the park, the leaves of the elm tree, the control I had over my emotions. “It’s dead.”
He grinned lopsidedly, as if expecting me to state that, “Only on the outside, but inside is a thriving being, all it needs,” he bored holes into my pupils, “is love.”
We were silent, into each other’s eyes we stared. I could see the challenge in them. He was always trying to mentally challenge me, determine my worth. He molded me to think the way I now do. “So with any amount of love even the most decrepit and unworthy object can become a blooming and breathing object once again? Or does the outside slowly become the inside, if only allowed the room to do so?”
His chuckle sent shivers down my spine, “What do you believe?”
“I think-”
“Don’t think. Feel.”
“I believe that we need tst tst this theory. Savvy?”
“You are quite the exhibitionist.”
“Nobody even comes into parks anymore, you know that.”
“Oh? Then why are we here?”
He caught me in faulty logic. I hated that. “Because you brought me and you aren’t everybody.”
“I can live with that.”
“You’d better,” I kept my arms crossed tight against my chest as I leaned into his personal space, not that he minded, “because it’s so.”
“And you trusted me, why?”
“I’ve dragged you all the hell around the Earth Alliance area, colonies and OZ compounds, and you trusted me. So, I returned the favour. Would you rather I didn’t?”
He groaned deep in his throat as my lips devoured his erect nipple, my tongue swirled expertly. My arms uncrossed only to tease his neglected pert ball of flesh. His hands idly stroked my exposed upper thigh, causing me to bite down slightly on my area of focus. “Whoa, that …” he exhaled sharply, “was a turn-on.”
He pressed feather-light kisses to my hair while he drew me to his body, rested my seat on his thighs. I could feel the heat of his erection even though he was inches away from my flesh and wore heavy denim. I switched attentions, traced wet circles on the canvas of his flesh, moaned as his hands groped my body. His pants grew tighter and tighter as my ministrations continued. He removed the nylon top and massaged my breasts tenderly, surprised -yet pleased- with how hard they already were. There was no time for embarrassment, for his unoccupied hand slipped to the waist of my shorts.
I shuddered, the feel of calluses was utterly erotic. I felt a familiar heat growing at my rose, and the kneads from his hand on my breasts stoked the fire. I lifted my mouth from his buds, nibbled on the shell of his ear as his fingers worked to undo the clasps on my garments. He drew his ear from my grasp, trailed a burning path of kisses down my neck, chest and stomach, stopped when he reached the top of the denim.
He smirked coyly, knowing just how much I loved it when he did that to me. His rough hands pushed the shorts down my legs along with my panties. The grass scratched against my exposed epidermis, tickled my back as I laid back, his tongue concentrated on my inner thighs. My hand snaked down to grasp his unruly braidle hle he nipped at the tender skin. At my copious requests -all done in moans- he finally dipped his tongue into me.
While he tongue-fucked me, my hand trailed down to scratch his erogenous zone, the spot of flesh just behind his left ear. He purred against my lips, his attentions sped to twice they had been. The severity astounded me, back arching up to meet him, breath ragged and hollow. My “creative juices” began flowing, gripping into his eager cavity. When I could no longer hold against the feelings, my dam broke, my orgasm spilled forth.
All I saw while regaining control of my heart rate and breathing were stars. My senses restored, I felt him beneath me, hands stroked my hair lazily. When he grinned, I wanted to orgasm again, melt on the spot.
“Brilliant, hey?”
“Narcissist.” I kissed the tip of his nose languidly.
“Mmm… It sounds good when you say it.”
“Hm. Well, it’s time for you to get even more ego engorged.”
“Time to get naked?”
“You betcha.” I answered, straddling his hips. I ran a teasing hand down his chest, tickled the belly button. The other reached to his restraints, undoing them harshly. His boxers were scarcely off, erection freed, when he rolled atop me, kicked his pants off the rest of the way. He always was good about getting on top.
His demanding kisses pulled at my skin, fingers roamed freely, teased here, fulfilled there. I rode the wave of sensations as he read the map of my body. I felt him grasp his own erection, used his hand as a steady guide to slide the head of his cock into my opening. The feeling of stretching was not unfamiliar to me, going much faster than the first time we fucked.
He never started out slow, unless it was anal, and this was no exception. He shoved in to the hilt, drew back slightly, slammed back in and pulled back out, each time varied the pressure and angle of the penetration. He hit the jackpot, repeated the same motion, enjoying how I shuddered beneath him, clawed at his shoulders as I tried to ride the waves of intensifying pleasure.
He growled viciously, leaving his mark on the tender area where my neck and shoulders met, drew blood. With the sensory overload, I came, released as my muscles clenched around his thick member. He followed me shortly after one final thrust, muscles suddenly weakened after it was over. He collapsed atop me.
We laid there, slowly reestablishing homeostasis to our bodies. After redressing, we left the weak plant to continue in the privacy of our flat. We were in such a hurry that when I glanced at the plant by chance, I almost missed the flash of green that crept into the leaves.
*~*~* *~*~*
A truly mind blowing experience. But, all good things must come to an end. Especially love. Nothing is sacred. Nothing is preserved.
He hasn’t come back. He broke his promise. He died in the mission. I’m left alone, waiting. He said he’d be home. He promised.
Duo Maxwell never lies.
Where does that leave me? He gave me his word. He never has lied.
He never lies.
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He Never Lies