Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Domination and Surrender ( Chapter 8 )

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - Chapter 8/?

~~~~~~~

Note: This fic is a response to Nova Una's challenge to write Gundam Wing/Pretty Woman fusion fic with Heero in the Julia Roberts role and Duo in the Richard Gere role.

Warnings: AU, yaoi, coarse language, violence, angst, citrusy situations, suggestive dialog, significant (major, MAJOR) deviation from Pretty Woman script as I see fit, although it bears enough similarities to still be considered a fusion. Lemon warning for this chapter.

Spoilers: None for GW, oodles for Pretty Woman, to an extent.

Disclaimer: I don't really need to be Captain Obvious here, do I? No ownership, no profit.

Edulcorate (verb)- To free from harshness (as of attitude) or to soften

~~~~~~~

Chapter 8 - Domination and Surrender


Duo's anger had subsided somewhat by the time they got off the elevator, and he let Heero precede him into the room, struggling to regain a sense of calm.

"You seem to be making a habit of disobeying orders, Heero," he said, but his voice had lost much of its hard edge. "A rather maverick approach, considering what you do for a living, don't you think?"

Heero had dropped the now hopelessly wrinkled dressing gown onto the loveseat and was just standing there with his back turned.

Duo's eyes traveled the length of Heero's body. It was obvious that Heero took very good care of it, because there wasn't a trace of excess fat on him. A few scars here and there, but it only emphasized the strength in that rigid form. Like a moth to a flame, Duo approached, reaching out to Heero's shoulder and then changing his mind before his fingers made contact.

"Look at me," he commanded. Heero turned and looked straight into his eyes. It was almost unnerving, looking at someone that intently when they were the same height. He'd always had to look down at Hilde. His left hand reached up and tugged the black wig, meeting with resistance as several bobby pins, some still clipped to Heero's bangs, dangled almost comically from the hairpiece.

Heero reached up and pulled the pins loose, one by one, then let them drop to the floor. The wig was thrown on the loveseat next to the robe.

This time Duo reached for him with his right hand, rubbing his hand through Heero's hair, which was still lying close to his head. It was thick, but felt softer than he'd expected. He inhaled, catching a familiar scent. Heero had obviously used his conditioner.

His hands ran through the hair, over and over, as if he were petting a cat. Eventually Heero's hair fluffed out, once again taking on that tousled, recently pleasured appearance Duo found so appealing.

What would it be like to kiss a man? There would be no bending down to capture Heero's lips, as they were right there in front of him. When he'd first turned to face Duo, they'd been pressed together in a firm line, but during his ministrations, they'd slowly relaxed. They looked incredibly soft. Duo leaned forward, determined to know if a man's lips could possibly be as soft as a woman's.

Heero turned his head away.

Duo pulled his hand from Heero's hair as if he'd been burned, the anger again flaring, made worse by his giving in to the momentary weakness. HE was the one in control here, not Heero. HE called the shots. HE decided what they did, where they did it, and how often. Heero had agreed to be whatever it was he needed for the duration of the week, and he'd be damned if he'd let Heero forget it.

"Strip." Instead of the harsh tone he'd used earlier, this one was cold, dead, emotionless.

Heero reached for the hem of the tank top he'd borrowed, curling his fingers in the fabric before pulling it off and letting it fall to the ground. He peeled the shorts off, then stepped out of them. They pooled at his feet, which were encased in a pair of Duo's sneakers, also borrowed from the closet. Those were toed off, and Heero stood there barefoot and naked. Duo tamped down the slight shock that Heero had used his sneakers without putting socks on first. Compared to what they were about to do, why did that seem like such an invasion of personal space?

Duo didn't know what he was doing, but he'd been in situations like this before. Not exactly like this one, but in ones where he'd had to think on his feet. Heero seemed to recognize this, but did nothing more than turn toward the bedroom. Duo followed him, discarding his own clothes, one article at a time, and dropping them on the floor as each one was removed. He refused to watch the sinuous rippling of skin over muscle as Heero moved. No distractions this time. Except for his socks, he was as naked as Heero when they arrived at the door to the bedroom.

Heero reached into the nightstand and pulled out a tube of lubrication and a condom, then laid them near the end of the bed. He climbed onto the mattress, facing the headboard, then leaned forward on his elbows, raising his ass in the air and waiting.

Just like that.

Duo stared dumbly at the items on the bed.

"Prep me," came Heero's muffled voice. His face was buried in one of the pillows.

"You can't tell me what to do, I'm the one paying," Duo bit out.

Heero turned around then, half on his side, glaring at Duo for all he was worth over his shoulder.

"You don't use lube, it won't feel as good. And maybe you get off on that, but I refuse to let you tear me. The odds of acquiring a sexually transmitted disease are greater when that happens, and you couldn't pay me enough to allow that."

Then Heero turned back around and got into position again, but this time instead of his head being bowed, he stared at the headboard.

Duo picked up the condom and looked at it, then at his limp cock. Heero had called his bluff. The anger hadn't gone away, it had just been temporarily shielded by confusion. He touched himself, holding the soft flesh in his hand, and looked at Heero's inviting ass.

Really looked at it.

Heero had to have his body waxed, because, except for the dark curls Duo had seen the night before, there wasn't a trace of hair anywhere to be found. He fought the urge to wince in imagined sympathy.

He visualized globs of steaming, hot wax being smoothed on those ass cheeks, then the reddish hue the skin would take on as the cloth strips tore off the unwanted hair. Were Japanese men really all that hairy? He didn't know. He still didn't even know if Heero were truly Japanese.

Duo longed to run his hands over Heero's body, along his sides, reaching under to cup his nipples. He didn't know about other men, but Hilde had shown him that he, at least, was sensitive in that area. Until then he'd assumed it was only true for women.

What would it be like to make love to another man? Would he like it? Would it turn him off from women, or would it just be something to add to his list of likes? If he didn't like it, what then?

He pictured himself buried to the hilt in Heero's ass, and felt the answering swell in his hand. He tore open the condom, unrolled it, and covered himself with the clear gel Heero had provided. He climbed up the bed and, on his knees, positioned himself behind Heero.

The head of his cock nudged the space between Heero's buttocks, and he ran it up and down the cleft, searching for the entrance. When he found it, he hesitated.

He stared at Heero's back, then down at his own erection, before reaching under Heero to feel his groin.

Which was just as unresponsive as it had been earlier.

Heero was a hooker. Heero didn't need to enjoy the act. Heero was doing this because Duo was paying him a hell of a lot of money for the privilege.

He gripped Heero's hips and slammed his pelvis forward, thrusting into Heero in one move, feeling the way Heero's body had resisted slightly. It was nothing like entering a woman. Lube slid out of Heero's ass and fell to the sheets, landing inches from Duo's knees.

He drew back and then surged forward again. It had to have hurt Heero, but the only reaction Heero's body gave was swaying slightly with the motion of the bed. He'd expected to see some kind of stiffening in Heero's back, but he was denied that.

He had planned on fucking Heero the way Heero seemed to want him to. He wanted to show Heero that he had to be damn careful what he wished for. He wanted to slam into him repeatedly, hurt him, make him very, very sorry he'd underestimated Duo Maxwell.

He couldn't do it.

He hated Heero very much at that moment.

His dick was still inside Heero, the only barrier between them a thin layer of latex and a generous amount of lube, but it seemed as if something delicate had shattered. Duo would swear he could hear it. He slipped out of Heero. It was much easier than it had been going in, partly because it was now only half the size it had been. He pulled off the condom, let it drop on the bed, and headed for the bathroom, pulling off his socks and throwing them angrily at the wall as he went.

Within seconds, Heero heard the water running in the shower.

What the hell?

Heero remained like that, his ass still dripping, his features drawn into a puzzled frown.

He'd baited Duo. He realized that now. Duo was dangerous. Far more dangerous than Heero could have imagined.

Heero never really cared what his johns looked like. The uglier, the better. He almost welcomed the feel of a relentless pounding, as long as precautions were taken. He couldn't figure out why he was so careful of insuring no one ripped his insides, because that would only go further toward achieving the temporary balm the act provided his soul. The answer was that Heero simply wasn't a masochist. He didn't go out of his way to welcome pain. He didn't climax during a bout of rough sex with a client, although his cock did surge to awareness at times. His body couldn't help reacting to prostate stimulation, assuming any of them bothered to hit it. He preferred when they didn't.

He found himself attracted to Duo. He'd found himself wanting to lean into Duo's touch earlier. He found himself wishing that he'd met Duo another time, another place, where they'd have met and socialized and maybe even been friends.

He fought the wave of panic that threatened to overcome him. He had to fix this.

When Duo came back to the bedroom, he paused in the doorway. Heero was sitting up in bed, the sheet carelessly draped over his body, leaving his left hip, his upper body, and part of his right leg uncovered. Duo couldn't help looking, then he raised his gaze to Heero's face. From across the room, their eyes met.

They were assessing each other, measuring each other's strengths and weaknesses. Duo gave up fighting the pull he felt from Heero and walked to the bed in defeat.

You win again, Heero.

Heero crawled toward him as he stood at the end of the bed, the approach so perfect it was obviously an act meant to entice. He brought himself to his knees, then loosened the towel at Duo's waist, letting it drop to the floor with a heavy thud.

Housekeeping was so going to love them in the morning.

Duo let Heero seduce him, willingly. Let Heero fondle him, let Heero bring him back to a state of arousal, let him roll the condom on. The feel of Heero's lips was both familiar and surprising, and his body couldn't help but respond, his hips surging forward as Heero sucked.

His hands tangled in Heero's hair, doing nothing more than using Heero as his anchor, not forcing Heero's head to do anything more than it was.

He came quickly, without a sound, and Heero calmly removed the condom and disposed of it in the nearby wastebasket. Duo climbed into bed, and they laid down next to each other, Heero facing one wall and Duo facing the opposite wall. Their backs were inches apart, and although the room was warm, Duo had never felt colder.

tbc