Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine.
Why am I doing this anyway? For Pete's sake, I'm a mechanic, not a carpenter. I deal with metal, not wood. Give me a welding job any day and I'd take it, but not this.
My fingers are shaking. Damn. How am I supposed to do this with my fingers shaking? I close my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself and, hopefully, to steady my hands as well. It doesn't work though.
This is stupid. I can do this. I've been through two wars and survived. The thought of me being defeated by this is just embarrassing.
If I get through this alive, I swear, I would never let my hands feel the weight of a hammer again.
Never. Ever.
Here goes.
Tap.
Well, that was easy.
Tap. Tap.
Too easy.
Tap. Tap. Ta-
"Fuck!"
I snatch my hand away to bring my finger to my mouth, but a hand suddenly clamps itself into my wrist. I look up only to see this cute blue-eyed guy kneeling beside me, with hair that must never have known the existence of a comb ever since its birth.
"Allow me."
I could only watch, stunned, as the vision in front of me brought my injured hand closer to his mouth. He opened his lips and for a second, hovered inches above my injured finger. Then a small pink tongue darted out and licked the tip.
I swallowed hard.
My eyes followed the little pink flesh as it came out again and gently teased a moist path across those soft lips. Then, those very same lips parted fully and closed upon the tip of my finger. Slowly, he lowered his head and proceeded to engulf my finger inch by aching inch, his tongue sliding and moving to caress the entirety of its length. Near the base, he stopped and raised his head a little to look at me.
The intensity of his gaze was heating me up all over, burning me, and making me painfully hard somewhere down.
He closed his eyes and moaned deep in his throat as he, with aching slowness, raised his head. I saw my finger emerge inch by inch, felt the strength of the suction he applied as my finger slipped through the slick warm cavern that was his mouth, that tantalizing little tongue doing wonders all the way.
"Better?"
He was still holding my hand, my injured digit erect and slick with his saliva. I grinned.
"Hell yeah."
In one swift movement he stood, pulling me up with him, and made his way towards our bedroom. I stood there for a moment and let my hand drift down to the front of my jeans, palming myself as my eyes traveled all over the lean physique, appreciating the well-muscled thighs and calves, and that taught, tight ass…
"Coming, lover?"
He turned his head to me and winked.
"Not without you,"
I said reassuringly and hurry over to join him.
Maybe carpentry ain't that bad after all.
AN: Hope you liked...