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The Internal Seduction of Heero Yuy Confusion seems to be the emotion that runs most rampant in my mind as I walk. My feet are tired from mimicking the motions these weak humans that fill the streets to the brim exert. I pull the collar of my coat up to gaurd my mouth from the stinging winds. It's winter here on Earth and so close to Christmas that I can almost taste the heady pine scent that hovers over this large city. I glare at the backs of those who dare brush elbows with me while I try to sort through the thoughts that resemble the state of the sidewalks I now sort through. My own head threatens to burst against the flow of thoughts. The thoughts are not characteristic of a Perfect Soldier such as myself. A Perfect Soldier that is no longer needed. Wanted, yes. But not needed. I think I'd rather be needed than wanted. Want is hardly ever returned. Need is more often fulfilled than want. For instance, my want is not returned. He doesn't want or need me. Just as I don't want or need the one who wants me. Her lips don't occupy my mind. His do. His lips trailing down my chest. My hands tangled in the eternal length of his hair. His lips pausing at the one identation in my abdomen and traveling farther south. My head thrown back, willing him to relieve me of my internal and external anguish. His lips wrapped around the only thing those soft lips were made for other than my own lips. I can't help but glare at the person who tears my precious fantasy away from me. My skin aches with want. Want that begs his long-fingered hands to press themselves to my skin. Every nerve ending calls out his name. I glance over at him, walking next to me. He's telling me jokes, but I can tell that he doesn't expect a hearty laugh in return. I grunt at oppertune moments, satisfying him enough to continue talking. He has to lean towards me ever so slightly in order to make himself heard. The ever present braid swings behind him, touching me every so often, satisfying my ache temporarily before it starts up again. I know how his hair fights to spring from the elastic band that holds it down. It swings over and brushes against me, taking with it a smalkl piece of my reserve. The reserve that is slowly becoming as jaded as myself and threatens to shatter into millions of splinters of God kows what. 'I must not touch him' quickly becomes a mantra. Echoing, echoing in my mind. The image of him hovering above me attempts to shove my mantra out. He's hovering above me and he only wears a veil of silky chestnut hair that brushes against my own bare skin. My mind's racing now. I'm slowly driving myself crazy with corrupt thoughts of him and I'm quickly losing control of them. I glance over at him again and meet a pair of dark blue eyes that rarely ever look at me. He asks me if I'm okay, I look like I'm in pain. If he only knew what pain I feel. I reply with my usual grunt and he shrugs, resuming his ramblings. He stumbles on some random item of trash and his hand shoots out to grasp my upper arm. My whole body shuts down and I find I cannot move an inch further. Using my immobility to his advantage, he steadies himself and lets go of my arm. He took my gesture as one of kindness, something I never display, catches my eyes with his, immense pools of fractured dark blue light. Once agian he has rendered me immobile with one of his actions. What's wrong? he asks. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. It seems my vocal cords no longer work. He says my name, sending delicious shivers up my spine. Being the concerned affectionate type, he squeezes my shoulder, thinking that might draw anything out of me. We're standing in the midst of a sea of people that's pulsing with life and it begins to snow. I blink, the spell broken, and I look up towards the sky, a former home of mine. I still haven't spoken and he still hasn't tried to draw anything more from me. But we haven't moved from our position. We face each other and his hand still rests on my shoulder. I blink again and return my eyes to him, only to find his eyes still trained on my face with a familiar emotion darkening them. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, which I guess have become as dry as mine. I inhale deeply. An erotic dance is taking place here and we are the only participants. His lips are parted and suddenly I feel hot, hotter than one should feel in the dead of winter. An idea bursts out amidst the haze and I reach behind him to undo the elastic band holding his hair in a braid. His hair is finally free as am I. His hair whips around us, eager to join our dance. He swallows hard, staring at me in a sort of wonderment. He looks as though he feels as I do? I'd never noticed this. A single flake of snow sifts through the curtain his hair makes and falls on his cheek, melting instantly into a suspended drop of water. The drop taunts me from it'd perch and I decide to punish it. As the drop begins its descent I lean forward and catch it with my mouth. I suck gently on the rounded cheek under my lips, determined to remove all moisture there. A soft moan escapes his lips and I feel his hand in my hair. He then maneuvers my mouth to his. As we stand in the snow, locked in a passionate embrace, I realize that I, Heero Yuy, am no longer fanasizing. And as every fiber of my body calls out its pleasure and relief, I realize that I am no longer jaded. -fin- |