Action and Consequence
by Kim Gasper

Heero shifted, changing his position on the bed. He'd been brooding since they left Siberia; nothing Trowa did or said seemed to make a difference. The other young man shook his head and pushed his bangs out of the way, wondering if anything would help. Or change Heero's attitude, even a little. He didn't think so, but he wasn't quite ready to give up trying yet.

'What a way for a battle to have to end - by not ending. Even a fight that wasn't going anywhere...a fight in vain. Why, Heero? What was it, exactly, you were wanting to find...to prove?'

They were holed up in a tiny hotel room, in a minute town called Staadt. Neither boy was sure where exactly they were, but for now, they were safely out of the way of OZ agents and Federation soldiers alike.

Heero shifted again, turning onto his stomach, his face turned away from Trowa. His arm was still wrapped in stained gauze, as if he didn't even care any more about treating it. It had to be uncomfortable; he'd torn it open again during the battle with Zechs.

"Heero?"

No answer. Trowa sighed and blew his hair out of his eyes. "Heero."

"Hnn."

He had a response; now he couldn't remember what he'd wanted to say. Or should say. Or could say. How do you start conversation with someone when you're not good at small talk yourself, and the other barely speaks when addressed?

"You need your arm tended."

"It's not bothering me any."

Trowa almost reeled from the shock of an entire sentence. Heero hadn't said that much to him at once in the last twenty-four hours.

"You don't want it infected."

"Leave it. It's fine."

"Baka." Why was he being so stubborn? Loosening up a little wouldn't hurt - either of them. Would it? Or was he, Trowa, letting emotion get in the way again? He sighed and turned his own back to Heero, trying to decide what to do. Usually he had no need for a lot in the way of social skills; around Heero, he found himself wishing sometimes that his were better, so he could draw the other boy out. He turned his head back for a moment. "D'you want something to eat?"

The slender shoulders moved slightly, as if indicating a shrug. Trowa sighed and hoisted himself off the bed. He wasn't hungry, exactly, but he was thirsty, and his belly felt chilled. 'I don't think food, or even coffee is going to help. Getting drunk might...if there was any rum around.' Someone who would talk back - answer - once in a while wouldn't be too bad, either. Or just a someone who would sit in companionable silence. Quatre had done that - he'd chattered some, but then he'd been quiet, too. A comfortable kind of quiet.

He wanted that. Comfortable quiet. Not this brooding silence that made the hurts inside his soul that much more pronounced.

Not for the first time Trowa wished he knew how to reach out to people - even if Heero wasn't receptive, maybe someone around would be. There was no one else though, and he didn't know how to. Didn't want to. He'd been alone a long time; he didn't need anyone now. Did he?

He stood beside the door to their room, and cast one last look at the other boy lying silent on the bed, before blinking away an unexpected salt-sting. No, he didn't need anyone.


Heero was in the exact same position when he returned, and Trowa sighed in quiet defeat. He'd been hoping maybe...*maybe*...his - friend? - would be sitting up, ready to...what? What had he been hoping for? This wasn't Catherine, who would talk regardless of his responses. This wasn't Quatre, who could be quiet with him, who was like a balm to his soul. This wasn't even Wufei, who'd been quiet, but drawn him out a bit. This was Heero.

And Heero was...different.

He was like him.

Mostly.

'I know he regrets what happened over New Edwards...but does he feel? Does he hurt? Does he...have friends? Anyone who cares about him?' Trowa's stomach tightened when he remembered a distant, smiling face, and a laugh that even now sounded like the tinkling of bells, jostling in a gentle wind. He didn't remember the person, but the faint, soft memory was one he guarded almost jealously, sharing with no one.

He hardly shared it with himself.

Trowa shook his head to clear it, then set the sandwiches and pot of coffee on the one small table between their beds. The cups were stacked neatly, and he set them beside the pot. Memories of other nights, of sharing cups of coffee over a campfire, of watching...always watching...stirred inside of him, and his hand shook as it raised the pot. Warm fingers surprised him, wrapping around his own.

"Steady. Don't want to spill it, do you?"

He looked up into eyes that were dark, unreadable - and into a face that showed just as much. Nothing. "No." He poured coffee into both cups, then raised an eyebrow, and passed a sandwich when Heero nodded.

They ate in silence, but it wasn't quite companionable. Not the brooding of before, exactly, but a far cry from relaxing. When was the last time he'd relaxed? Trowa couldn't remember for certain. He'd relaxed a bit, here and there, off and on, but not a total relaxation of body and soul, spirit and mind for - longer than he cared to try and imagine. He wasn't entirely certain he'd ever been that at ease.

It would be nice. Just for a day, an hour; just for the span of time it would take to feel.

He'd like to relax enough to talk to Heero, to make the other boy want to talk back.

He'd like to relax enough to ask Heero to hold him.

Trowa sat fully upright, choking on the swallow of coffee he'd just taken. Where in the hell had that come from?

"Daijoubu ka, Trowa?" A low, dark voice from beside him; Heero had unraveled himself enough to look at Trowa, one eyebrow raised in question.

"I'll live," Trowa waved the slight concern away, setting his cup back on the table. He turned his thought around, over and over, examining it critically, taking care not to look over at Heero. Where had that come from? Why did he feel like that? He didn't need anyone to hold him - he wasn't a child who needed things like that.

'No, just someone who's lonely.'

Goddamn, where were these thoughts coming from?

His own brain was trying to sabotage him.

If he were honest with himself, though...brutally honest...he could admit that he'd felt like that for a while. Heero had been around the longest, which might be why he felt that way about the other boy. With Heero he felt...not alone. There was someone else like him; someone who was driven for the cause, dedicated...someone who was also... Alone.

And maybe, if they were together...they wouldn't be so...alone.

Maybe.

Trowa sighed and closed his eyes. Being held - especially by Heero - wasn't going to happen. The other boy was in less need of companionship, or comfort, than even the front that Trowa projected. It was a dream that was as unattainable as...peace.

Maybe if he slept for a bit, then he could dream. And if he dreamed, he could dream about being held; about not being alone.

He could dream about Heero.


Tallgeese had the upper hand; Heero was falling back, failing in his effort to beat Zechs. The newly-rebuilt Gundam had taken a severe beating by the other machine, and the boy inside was hurt, bleeding badly again from not-yet-healed wounds. Trowa watched from the control booth, yet he was inside the Gundam with Heero, feeling his pain, feeling his emotions - the nearly-overwhelming relief at knowing that it was finally, nearly over.

Trowa's pain was almost as great now as when he'd watched Heero self-destruct. Then, it had been the bitter taste of defeat, of knowing a mission had failed. Of knowing *they* had failed. Now, it was...personal. This boy was his friend, after a fashion. He'd nursed him back to health after that horrific moment; he'd talked to him; he'd watched him as he slept. He'd followed him around the planet, watching as Heero tried in vain to find a way to make amends for his mistake; to heal the pain that festered inside.

A pain not unlike Trowa's own. Alone, but not alone; wanting something he couldn't have. And now, watching, knowing it would end soon. That he'd never have it.

Tallgeese struck yet another blow, and the Trowa inside with Heero winced, watching blood leak from an injured arm. Another heavy blow, and Heero's head crashed back, blood spurting from his nose, from his ears... He could hear himself shout...NOOOOO!!!--

"Trowa!"

"Aie!" Trowa came full awake, sitting up so suddenly he banged his nose against Heero's, who was sitting on the edge of his bed. "What're you doing?"

"You woke me up. What's wrong?" Heero rubbed his nose, the tone in his voice indicating he was asking because he thought he should, not because he wanted to - or cared.

"Just a--just dreams. No concern." Trowa couldn't breathe. Heero was so close; he could almost pretend the other boy was here because he wanted - the same thing. To be held. To not be alone. He thought about reaching out. Just a moment of thought, a whisper inside his head before he dismissed it. Every action had a consequence, and while Trowa might want, deep inside himself, to be held - touched - that didn't mean Heero did. And he felt responsible for the other pilot, since Heero was still injured.

"They were enough to bother you," Heero muttered grumpily, still rubbing the bridge of his nose. Trowa watched him under heavy lids, wishing he'd go to his own bed. His nearness was...disturbing.

It was fully dark outside, with a small ribbon of light from the moon reflecting off the snow, and shining into their room through a break in the curtain. Outside was pure, bone-chilling cold; the moonlight was a lot like that. Pure and cold, and so beautiful, but not entirely of this world. A lot like the young man sitting here beside Trowa.

The light played over Heero's face, outlining the complete lack of tension, of concern, of anything.

"Do you hurt?" Trowa mumbled quietly, his eyes continuing to watch that still face.

"Eh?" Dark, questioning eyes glinting with white light turned toward him, and Trowa felt his heart turn over inside his chest. He hadn't meant to speak out loud; he didn't want Heero to know the thoughts he guarded so secretly. He shook his head and shifted, ready to roll over, to shut the other boy out. Daylight, when it came, would be the place to hide - and he'd take care for the next darkness then.

"Nothing. Go back to bed, Heero."

Hard fingers clutched at his shoulder once, then pulled away, and Trowa nearly embarrassed himself by turning back over to beg Heero to touch him.

"I don't...know. If I hurt. I don't know what I feel inside. I don't think I feel...anything."

"Why?" If he didn't move, didn't open his eyes, it made this conversation surreal, and he could pretend it was a dream. Nothing he did in a dream mattered, right? It was make-believe.

"Why, what?"

"Why don't you feel anything?"

"Do you?"

"I...feel. I just don't know what to do with them." Trowa moved his fingers restlessly against the bedspread.

"Emotions are human," Heero muttered quietly, still not moving, not giving indication he thought he should.

"Hai. And you're human, you have them." He could hear the faint tinge of exasperation in his voice; where was this going? He wanted to go back to sleep - maybe he could forget dreams of death, and have one of *life* this time.

"I don't think so." The flat, emotionless tone to Heero's voice made Trowa turn over, his eyes flicking over the other boy. There was nothing on his face; in the chilling light moving into their room, there was nothing there.

"You don't think what? That you're human? Or that you have emotions?" Trowa barked out a short, choppy laugh. "You're nearly indestructible, yes. But definitely human, Heero. I've watched you bleed." He reached up and tapped a gentle finger on the dirty bandage around one biceps. "You have emotions too - you've just buried them far, far deeper than I've managed yet. But they're there."

"Maybe." With one word, Heero ceded the conversation, shifting as if to get up. And Trowa knew, with a flash of insight that startled him, that he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let Heero go away from here; he'd lose the tenuous connection they'd made, and then they'd both be truly alone.

He reached up, shifting awkwardly, and grasped Heero by the shoulders. The other boy made a surprised noise, but didn't move, didn't try to pull away. Or the resistance, if any, was so slight, that Trowa could dismiss it. He pulled the other boy closer, wondering what the hell he was doing.

'Actions have consequences. Actions...have consequences.' Consequences be damned, he wanted to do this. He needed to do this. As alone as he could be, he couldn't be alone right now, and something made him think that Heero couldn't, either.

And Heero...wouldn't reach out.

He had to.

The other boy's eyes were wide, startled, with a flare of something burning deep inside them. Trowa watched him until the moment their lips met, then his eyes slid shut. His mouth opened slightly to take in as much of the experience - as much of Heero - as possible, each nerve ending in his body firing, proclaiming loudly within himself that he needed this. He hadn't kissed anyone in a long, long time, and the warm pressure of Heero's mouth against his made his eyes prickle. He heard a soft sigh - a groan? - and the pressure increased, just barely. He wondered if Heero had ever kissed anyone before, and drew back slowly, breaking the tenuous contact.

Heero's eyes were still open, staring at him in wide-eyed disbelief. "W-why?"

Trowa shrugged, not sure he could articulate it. He couldn't put it into words inside himself; he surely wouldn't be able to explain it. The moonlight dripped tiny puddles of liquid ice across Heero's face, adding endless depth to the dark eyes peering at him. Trowa shook his head, muttering hoarsely, "I don't know why. I don't know..." He paused a heartbeat, then asked quietly, "Have you done this before?" Heero shook his head briskly. "Do you...want to?" Silently he cursed himself, wondering again where this need came from, why he had to be so weak as to give into it. There was a long, silent pause, then Heero whispered quietly...

"Hai."

His heart leapt inside his chest, sending small quakes all through him. Anticipation, fear, nervousness like none he'd ever experienced before all curled through him, knotting his stomach. One look at Heero's face told him that he wasn't the only one afraid. The other boy looked like he was carved from stone, his face was so still, but his eyes - god, those eyes! They glittered with the cool light that shone behind them, and deep inside, hiding in their depths, unseen except by one who could understand, was fear...fear of the unknown...fear of feeling.

"Heero." Trowa tried a small smile, then leaned in closer, his hands rising again to hold the warm, leanly-muscled arms. Those muscles jumped under his fingers, bunching lightly before subsiding. The other boy held himself stiffly, mouth closed, until Trowa touched the tip of his tongue there. Heero jumped, as if startled, his mouth opening. Warm breath caressed Trowa's face, and he shivered as he opened his mouth wider, too. When Heero's tongue reached out to touch his, a surge of heated pleasure rushed through him. He groaned softly into the other boy's mouth, "Ahhh, Heero." He loosed his grip on one arm, and slid his hand up to touch the wild hair that looked soft and spiky all at once.

"Trowa..." Heero's voice trembled, his lips soft against Trowa's. "I--"

"Shh. It's okay." He touched his lips to Heero's again, letting the other boy get used to the sensation. When Heero relaxed a little he moved his mouth, kissing next to the soft, tempting lips, then at a spot just beneath Heero's jaw. A small intake of air made him smile, and he kissed there again, touching the skin with his tongue. The sound this time was a soft inhalation, a tiny whimper. "Is this--"

"Just...kiss me." The words were tight, the gritty tone behind them might have been fear, desire, shock - or all of them. Trowa didn't know which, and didn't care. Heero's words echoed in his head, screamed through his nervous system. Kissmekissmekissmekissme...

Not alone any more; at least, not for this moment. With a soft, agonized groan of need, of want, of hunger he barely recognized, Trowa lowered his mouth onto Heero's, opening the soft lips with his own, letting his tongue push gently, then harder, until it gained entrance to the warm slickness inside.

It crossed his mind that he'd never kissed anyone quite like this; the warmth, the plush, slick softness of the inside of Heero's cheeks, and the hard, unyielding surface of his teeth, of the roof of his mouth, they combined to create something he instantly wanted more of. His hands slid up to cup his friend's face, stroking the soft skin under Heero's jaw with his thumbs while his fingers reveled in the silky black hair brushing over them.

He tipped Heero's head back a little, deepening the kiss, feeling heat moving over him slow and thick, like hot honey. When the other boy's hands touched his chest, then his arms, fingers brushing slowly, tentatively, Trowa groaned low and deep, the sound lush and rich with need, rising around them, combating the chill both had felt earlier.

His groan was answered by another, lower one; it echoed into their joined mouths, reverberating through them before fading into silence.

Heero's hands insinuated themselves into his hair, combing through the short strands, tugging gently, until Trowa's head tilted back, and Heero's followed, the wide, warm mouth moving over his, taking, rather than accepting.

Trowa moaned again, softly, and leaned backward, pulling Heero over onto him. Hands touched him, stroking gently at first, then harder, as Heero became a little more sure of himself; as he gave in to the sensations sparking through him. The kiss lengthened, soft wet noises rising around them, until the need for air was greater than any hunger either was feeling. They separated with a quiet gasp, then leaned together, foreheads touching. Heero rubbed his fingers down the side of Trowa's neck, and over the vein pulsing rapidly in the hollow of his throat.

"Feels good," he whispered against Trowa's neck. "You feel good."

"Yeah..." Trowa raised his hand and twined their fingers together. "It gets better, yuushi. Much better." He felt Heero's jerk at the quasi-endearment, then the other boy settled back down again, lips still nuzzling at his neck. A soft shiver worked its way through him, and Trowa smiled.

'This is one way to not be alone. Mind, body, spirit - all focused. On pleasing, on pleasure, on giving.' His belly wasn't cold any longer, either.

"How...better?" Heero's fingers were stroking his neck, his throat, and Trowa felt the purr rumble out of him, filling the dark, quiet space around them.

"Like this." He ran his fingers down the lean length of the other boy's torso, and up under the black cotton of the ever-present tank top. Heero's skin was warm, and so soft, and Trowa sucked in a deep breath as desire climbed higher inside him. Was he soft everywhere? There was one area that wasn't - it was nearly rigid against him now; a burning hot column pressed against his thigh.

He ignored Heero's cock for now; however turned-on the other boy was, he was still nervous, jittery - skittish like the animals at the circus. 'Slowly, Trowa. Slow is best; it makes everything better.'

That memory was accompanied by another, older and darker, of hands holding him down, holding him open - not giving him a chance to say yea or nay. He shuddered and pushed that away, preferring the memories of tenderness, pleasure and joy over the others. Those had no place here; they had no place anywhere.

His fingers found small, hard nipples, and he teased and petted them with the pads of his thumbs and forefingers, pinching lightly in between strokes. Heero stiffened against him, then groaned and rubbed his hard-on against Trowa's hip. "Yes...oh, yeah..."

"You can touch me too. Anything that feels good to you, I'll like." His lips touched Heero's ear, then his neck, and Trowa flicked his tongue over the small indentation behind one ear. When Heero slid a hand under his shirt and teased one nipple into a hard, throbbing bud, Trowa moaned and panted quietly, riding out the pleasure fizzing through his veins in hot, intense bursts.

Heero's mouth covered his then, tongue pushing slickly past his lips to sweep around the interior of his mouth with a ferocious hunger that left Trowa breathless, his body arching upwards. Oh, it felt so good, this sharing! It felt good to not be alone in the dark and the cold; to know that they could share - could save - the small flame burning between them.

He shifted again, moving them to the center of the small bed and threading his fingers through Heero's, then drawing his arms up and back, letting the other boy loom over him. Heero pulled back, breaking their kiss, to stare down at Trowa. His eyes were dark, but not cold any longer. There was a heat there that Trowa had seldom seen before; it was the heat of hunger, of desire. There was fear there, still - the needs burning inside were fierce, and frightening in their intensity - but it was tempered by pleasure. Trowa wiggled a little, pushing up to rub his cock against the other boy. Blue gave way to Prussian, the color so dark, so deep, that Trowa had trouble telling it from the black of the pupil, and the depth of the night surrounding them. He pulled Heero closer, nuzzling at neck, lips, throat, licking over the other boy's lips.

"This," he whispered, his voice tight and rough, "is what I feel...what I can't show. It's...too much. Too strong." He tightened his fingers on Heero's, then moved his legs apart, letting the other boy slide into the heated space opened for him. "Feel...me," he whispered again, voice thicker now, colored with desire.

Something cracked deep in Heero's eyes; Trowa could almost see the split. Eyes darkened further, indistinguishable now from the night, and eyelids lowered, giving Heero a sleepy, sexy look. "Because...of me?" He squeezed Trowa's fingers harder, his hips moving slowly against the other boy.

"Yes," Trowa gritted out, his own hips moving up, a deep, startled groan thundering through him when his cock rubbed against Heero's.

"You...want--" Surprise was shining in the dark eyes; it was almost like morning dawning. Trowa growled low, and nipped at Heero's neck, tasting tender flesh.

"You. I want you, yuushi."

"Why...call me that?" Heero panted lightly, lowering his head to kiss Trowa roughly, stopping his answer momentarily. When he released Trowa, both were breathing faster, sweat dotting their foreheads.

Trowa pulled one of his hands loose and ran a finger over slightly-swollen lips, his belly clenching when Heero licked the tip of it. "Brave warrior," he whispered huskily. "In so many ways - facing it, even when you don't have to...when you could turn your back and move on--"

"Not brave," Heero whispered back. His eyes glistened momentarily, then deepened, heated. "Have to...do those things. My missions."

"This isn't a mission." Trowa raised his legs and wrapped them around Heero's, rubbing slowly, rhythmically.

"No." Heero paused, his mouth working silently for a minute. "Take...your clothes off?"

Trowa regarded him, eyes flicking over the serious face. "You want to?" He swallowed roughly, his stomach clenching again.

"I--yeah." Heero let go of Trowa's other hand and sat back, smoothing his palms down the other boy, rubbing slowly. He paused just above the fastening to Trowa's pants, his fingers rubbing lightly, restlessly.

Trowa lifted his hips silently in invitation.

Trembling fingers skittered over the button that held his pants together, and a soft puff of air caressed his face when Heero cursed under his breath. "Shimatta..."

The button gave then, and the sound of the zipper following, it's metal teeth parting, was loud in the stillness of the room. There was a long pause, and Trowa opened eyes that had slid shut to see Heero staring down at him, almost mesmerized. He groaned quietly when gentle fingers rubbed over his tented underwear, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. "Touch me...just like that..."

Heero rubbed his hand down the length of Trowa's cock, caressing through the thin cotton. Trowa spread his fingers over Heero's and stroked himself through his shorts, trying not to gasp and pant with each touch. When Heero had the rhythm steady, he reached out and touched the other boy, feathering his fingers over the tight black biker shorts, rubbing at the hard bulge concealed there. Heero gasped and clutched his fingers in, pulling a smothered grunt of almost-pain from Trowa.

"Oi!" He started, his free hand clutching the other boy's shoulder, fingers digging in briefly.

"Gomen," Heero panted softly.

"Nnnn...s'okay...I startled you..." Trowa pushed Heero back gently and reached for the bottom of his tank. "Wanna see you." Heero's hands stopped his, gripping tightly, then relaxing. Something that looked like a very small smile worked across the serious face.

"You too, kitsune." This time it was a smile, and Trowa felt his lips curving upward, too.

"Kitsune, eh?" Trowa pulled the tank over Heero's head, then stroked his hands down the slender torso, pulling on hard, erect nipples.

"Ohhh...h-hai." Heero closed his eyes, the words stumbling off his tongue when Trowa leaned in and sucked one small, hard nub into his mouth.

'God, this is good... He's good...hot, sweet...' The thought swirled through his head that he needed to find something to use as lube; it'd been a long time since he'd been with anyone, and Heero could hurt him if they tried it dry. Swift on the heels of that thought was the strong desire to show Heero how good it felt to take someone; to move hard and strong inside them, the feelings so intense they could consume you if you weren't careful.

He wanted to be consumed.

He wanted it like he'd never wanted it before.

The realization was so strong he stopped his suckling, sitting up straight to look the other young man in the eye. "I was...I want to show you, yuushi...how it can feel--" Two spots of color burned high on his cheekbones, and Trowa flinched from the sensation. He didn't have to say another word, he could just strip his clothes off now, and roll over for this young man...his lover. Or lie back and spread his legs-- The flush of embarrassment turned to a different heat that moved through him slowly. Or he could just...just... Trowa lowered his eyes, not sure what to do or say.

Soft fingers touched his cheek, stroked down to his lips, teased along them. "Daijoubu ka?"

Trowa nodded roughly, not trusting himself to speak yet. He couldn't. He wanted to make this special for Heero; wanted it special for them both. Give back a little of life, where only coldness and blackness were right now. He wanted the fire between them to burn away any lingering chill, to ease the hurts in both their souls.

He wanted to feel...

...and he wanted Heero to feel, as well.

Warm hands touched him, then gripped the edge of his shirt, tugging gently. He raised his arms, letting Heero undress him, shuddering at the sparks edging through him now. He touched Heero's face, the serious, intense eyes watching him. "Heero--"

"Ne." Heero shook his head, then stood and shucked his shorts off, neatly as you please. "I--don't know much...about this, Trowa...but I--" He swallowed harshly; Trowa could almost hear his throat working. "I want you."

"Ja." It was a whisper; hardly even that - a soft expulsion of breath, letting out what he hadn't thought he could express. His vision went fuzzy for a minute, then Trowa reached out and touched the slender, hard body in front of him, his fingers dipping to stroke the small indent of navel, then down to circle the warm shaft standing proudly. "Want you, too - hard inside me. Make me...make me feel."

He shifted off the bed to stand before Heero, and pushed his pants all the way down and off, kicking them out of the way. Heero watched him solemnly, then pulled him close, mouth already open and searching for Trowa's warmth. A soft groan rose around them; two groans, the sounds nearly identical--pleasure, need, and a pain that burned deep inside both of them, looking for an outlet.

'So good, to touch him...to be touched. I've wanted this; wanted him for a while now, I think. I need this. I need...him. Need someone. Need to not feel dead, and cold inside. LifeŠneeds life.'

"We need...stuff," he whispered hoarsely against Heero's mouth. "Something slippery...."

"There's hand-lotion in the bathroom; I saw it earlier." Heero's breathing was ragged, unsteady, and Trowa felt desire stab him again when the other boy rubbed hard against him.

"Lemme go get it...we're gonna need it." Trowa laughed breathlessly and squeezed Heero's erection, his fingers stroking slowly over the hard flesh.

Heero groaned his agreement, and pressed one more hard kiss onto Trowa's mouth before stepping back. The room was tiny; it wasn't more than a dozen steps from the bed to the door into the even smaller bath; Trowa was back in a minute - if it was that long.

And every one of those sixty seconds felt like an eternity to a body that was burning with need and a soul that was crying out for comfort.

He sat down on the side of the bed, squirted some of the lotion into the palm of his hand, then looked up at Heero. The handsome face was drawn up tight, riddled with anxiety, anticipation, desire. "Relax," he said quietly. "It'll feel good, I promise."

"For you, too?" The young pilot narrowed his eyes. "I don't...don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Trowa said, shaking his head convincingly. 'At least not beyond the first minute or so - and then it'll feel so good I won't care.' He slathered the lotion onto Heero's cock, stroking his fingers lovingly over the hard, hot flesh. When the changes in the other boy's breathing told him Heero was close to as much stimulation as he could handle, Trowa lifted one hand and squirted some lotion onto the pads of Heero's fingers. "Now me, yuushi," he said quietly, lying back. He shifted his legs, drawing them up, letting Heero see all of him.

"K'so..." The other boy shifted onto the mattress, staring, his eyes wide with shock. "I...won't fit, Trowa - it's not possible."

"It's very possible. Trust me." Trowa leaned forward and guided slippery fingers to touch him. The lotion was cool, and felt good against his heated skin. He groaned once when an almost-too-gentle finger pushed against him, breaching the tight muscle, and his eyes slid closed. "Oi..."

"Trowa--"

"Do it," he grunted, body clamoring for more of those touches. "Please...touch me."

Another finger slid into him, and Trowa grunted again, reaching to stroke his cock, his fingers trembling in time with his stomach. It felt so good, those gentle touches. He moved his hips in time and opened his eyes to see Heero watching him, those solemn eyes dark with...hunger? It made his stomach tighten to think. The proud erection springing from the other boy's body hadn't wavered any; if anything, he'd swear he could see it throbbing from here. "Fuck me," he whispered, daring the words for the first time. "Please...I want to feel you inside me."

No words answered him, but Heero's eyes grew darker, almost like obsidian tinged with the warm blue of the ocean, and he nodded. He withdrew his fingers and smeared the rest of the lotion around the outside of the small hole, making Trowa wiggle with anticipation.

Then his body was warm and well-covered, wearing a layer of Heero. The friction between his legs made him shift, drawing them back further, widening the space between. He reached down and helped his friend, a deep groan rumbling out of his chest when the heated length pressed against him, then slowly into him, stretching his body wide. Heero paused, his face frozen into a look of pleasure so intense that Trowa felt it move through him. Then the other boy raised one trembling hand to smooth over Trowa's face, touching his eyelids, his mouth, moving to cup his chin and tilt Trowa's head back some. His mouth moved slowly over the path his fingers had just taken, his breath whispering over Trowa's face. "Trowa...daijoubu ka?"

Trowa gritted his teeth; Heero's insertion was slow and gentle - almost too much so. He managed a strangled "Hai!", and pushed himself up hard, burying the other boy deep inside him, gasping once at the spike of pain/pleasure that shot through him.

"AIEE! Trowa!" Heero's groan spilled out around them, echoing within both bodies. Trowa opened his eyes enough to see the surprised, shocked face and grinned, moving his hips slowly.

"Fuck me," he enunciated, his voice a thick whisper. Heat passed through Heero's eyes, burning into him, exploding within when Heero ground his mouth down, plunging his tongue inside Trowa, matching the rhythm with his cock.

'He's got it...finally, he's got it...' The thought was muzzy; Trowa had other things to do with his brain, like feel the pleasure that was burning through him like a ribbon of molten lava, but it was there. He'd been afraid Heero would stay too gentle - and he didn't want gentle. There was plenty of time for slow and gentle, later. Right now, he wanted rough; hard and fast, to make it burn into his soul. He wrapped his arms around Heero and pulled him closer, opening his mouth wider. Their bodies jerked and moved together, falling into a rhythm that built up heat and sent sweat rolling down arms and legs, dripping off of foreheads.

It was incredible, how good this felt. Not just the joining of their bodies, but the feeling of friendship, of comfort, of...not being alone. Of someone who felt like him, and locked it away like him, opening up and feeling so much pleasure. He reached in between them and rubbed his cock; the friction it was getting between their bellies was great, but only enough to keep him poised on the edge of orgasm; it wasn't enough to send him flying over. And over was where he wanted to go with it.

Heero pumped harder, his motions a little more desperate. He had a wild, faraway look on his face that Trowa hadn't seen before, not once during their travels together, and the young pilot decided he liked it. He liked knowing he'd put it there. He slipped his free hand down Heero's back to stroke hot, sweaty skin. Now the moonlight shining in their room wasn't cool; it was the heat of pure desire; like rays of white-hot sunshine. It melded with the night-black shining from Heero's eyes, showing him pools of indigo that were deep enough to drown in and never surface.

Indigo that caught his eyes and held him while the body thrusting into his jerked once, then again, then a third time, filling him with more heat, chasing away the last bit of chill that had lingered. Heero threw his head back and groaned, a sound like nothing Trowa had ever heard before. It raised the hair on the back of his neck, and sent goosebumps chasing down him. It made his own cock ache, the kind of ache that was quickly turning to absolute need. He stroked himself faster, groaning when that need expanded within him, the tingling in his stomach and pelvis turning to something that thundered through him like a tsunami.

He arched upward into Heero, his back bowing as he cried out his pleasure, gasping and panting against the bolts of pleasure that seared through him. "Aiiiii...Heero..."

Heero snuggled in close to him, his voice hot and whispery, his lips warm and soft, sending more shivers chasing down Trowa's spine - nice, warming shivers. "Arigatou...arigatou, Trowa..."

"Oi, Heero...my pleasure too, yuushi. Mine, too..."

He smoothed his hands over the fine, soft skin of Heero's back, spreading the thin moisture of sweatdrops in random, expanding patterns. The bump of Heero's spine tickled his fingertips, and he traced the shallow groove up and down, feeling small shivers and quakes chasing goosebumps in his wake.

Gentle hands smoothed through his hair as Heero tipped them over onto their sides. "Can you...not dream now?"

Trowa considered the question before nodding decisively. "Hai." He swallowed once, his fingers closing convulsively - possessively - on Heero's arms. "Can you...feel?"

There was a long pause, and Trowa worried that Heero would close up, shut him out again. Then slender shoulders shrugged once, and warm hands spread over his arms, curving to hold him just as possessively. "Hai."

They curled together tightly on the small bed, and Trowa pulled the blankets up over them, shadowing them from reality for just a little while longer. What morning would bring, he didn't know. What the future held in store for them was a huge question mark, as well. Action, and consequence. But for now...they weren't alone, and they could both feel.

And for now, that was enough.

The End


Find more of Kim Gasper at Infinite Passions.