
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/195968.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Gundam_Wing
  Relationship:
      Duo_Maxwell/Heero_Yuy
  Character:
      Duo_Maxwell, Heero_Yuy
  Additional Tags:
      Canadian_Shack
  Stats:
      Published: 2001-12-21 Words: 532
****** Shack 60 ******
by torch
Summary
     Heero and Duo in a Canadian shack.
He had given some thought to the mechanics of it; it could be seen as a problem
of applied physics. Tender skin and teeth, the best way to breathe — how to fit
an object into a space not really designed for it. He'd considered all these
things, but he hadn't taken into account some factors that he now realized were
important. The smell, the taste, how the balance between slickness and friction
felt on his tongue and all the way down into his throat. He had never thought,
considering the possibility beforehand, that Duo's hand knotting in his hair
would send jolts down his spine.
It was different, because he was on his knees on a cold floor in a dark room,
and Duo was fucking his mouth, and applied physics seemed a secondary
consideration. There was a small beginning pain in his jaw, and he was going to
come in approximately thirty-five seconds. He took his hands away from Duo's
hips before he could grip them too hard, and tried to keep his balance without
any support.
"God," Duo said, the single word ragged and wavering, and his hips pushed in a
new rhythm. Heero found that he didn't really need to breathe. He closed his
eyes. A little saliva ran from the corner of his mouth. A subvocalized hum
tried to work itself free of his throat, and Duo's hand gripped even harder.
The next movements had no rhythm that he could discern, and they were exactly
what he wanted. Duo cried out. Semen was thick and hot and salty, a new taste
that seemed completely natural, and his spine fused, and everything tightened,
and he passed through the whiteout of orgasm.
He'd been wrong. Twenty-seven seconds.
Duo staggered back and leaned against the wall, panting. It took him three
tries to get himself tucked away and zip his pants up. He fingered the end of
his braid, petting it like a living thing. "Why did you do that?"
Heero looked up, surprised. "I wanted to know what it was like." He wiped his
mouth with the back of his hand and got up off the floor. They were here for a
reason, and this was not it. "I think you should attempt to coordinate your
attack on the ground transport with mine on the air transport for maximum
effect."
Duo stared at him. "You cold bastard," he said, and this was a different kind
of ragged. He went to the door and jerked it open, and a flurry of snow spilled
in. "Send coordinates on the usual frequency."
"Duo—"
"Fuck off." He walked out, slamming the door shut. Heero stayed where he was,
waiting for the hum of engines. Science was a dependable, straightforward
thing. In physics, experiments could be repeated to produce the same results.
He wasn't sure he would care to repeat this one, though. He ran his tongue
around his mouth, trying to find the taste again. That part had been good, but
this part was not.
Heero heard Duo's plane take off and went to the door. He'd send the
coordinates, and if they both lived, perhaps he could try a different
experiment next time.
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