Contains implied 1x3, self gratification, etc. On a last note, I am a strict 1x2x1 fan, believe me. So should I decide to finish this tale it will end with Duo and Heero forming a relationship. Call me a sap, but I just adore Heero and Duo together. Enjoy!

For the Sake of Pleasure

I was begrudgingly roused from a dream, from which adapt hands were guided along the planes of my torso, warm lips brushed the flesh of my outer thighs, a taunting gesture, teasing skin, keenly tormenting. Yes, I was roused from a dream, from where soft intrepid blue eyes gazed back into my own, searching,with a slight curve of a smile, so subtle but conveying such intense emotion. A dream where your mouth was solely mine, so acutely warm-delivering words of comfort tumbling from lips so supple and smooth, as they trace a moist line down my abdomen. I was roused from this divine place of solace, by the echo of a guttural moan, gradually developing into a crescendo, low groans and cries, filtering into my earshot, from the room down the hall. My eyes flutter open,and for a brief second, I wonder if such utterances had slipped from my own lips. No such luck. There is a faint rumble, the creak of bedsprings, and the light rapping of the wooden bed frame against the dry wall. I wake to an empty bed, cold and uninviting. I sealed my eyes and cursed.

I dispelled a low growl in my throat, and shifted onto my stomach, smashing my face into a pillow, then emitted a dry hiss, as I realize I am pinching my erection beneath my weight and the mattress. Rolling over quickly onto my back once more, I gaze up into darkness, idly watching as the headlights of a passing car dance across the ceiling. I wonder if Heero is on top, I assume he is, since as stubborn as he is, I can't imagine him allowing another to penetrate him without some resistance, for that matter neither would I. No pun intended. I also wonder, if those gruff but exquisite cries belong to him, I can't tell for certain. These thoughts are not going to help me abate mygrowing erection; I am, after all, seventeen, and still a virgin. If that seems pathetic to you, I don't give a damn. Not to say that I have never noticed the vast selection of men my age out there, sleek, sultry beauties, with dark almond shaped eyes and honey colored skin, or blonde locks and crimson lips. But when it comes down to it, and it usually does, there is a certain type of guy I really go for-a man with silky alabaster skin, a taut, muscled frame, and piercing blue eyes. Mysterious though he is, rough around the edges, taciturn.Yeah, My kind of guy.

Since these musings seem only to further remind me of the engorged organ between my legs, I should probably try to fill my mind with things I do not find arousing. Breasts. Another hastened cry erupts from down the hall. Boobs. Squeaking mattress. Stifled groans. Tits. My eyes wandered down, only to greet the sight of my stiffened penis, mocking me, refusing to disappear. This isn't working.

I allow a low sigh to escape my lips, as the feral sounds of sex continue, and I submit, peeling back the sweat soaked sheets from my nude form. I might as well indulge myself now.

I sleep naked, as it's the only way I feel comfortable, and for some reason, I enjoy the feeling of the sheets against my bare skin. I close my eyes, sliding my sweaty palm down my stomach, briefly raking my fingers through pubic hair before I encircle my hand loosely around my hardened penis, directing my fingers in an upward motion, barely grazing skin. I began to lightly massage the head of my erection, my breath quickening, and I open my eyes. Okay, I'm not being arrogant, or bragging, but fully erect, my cock isn't something to be ashamed of. Maybe someday day soon I'll show Heero what I have to offer. I felt the barest indication of a smile ghost over my mouth, as I began sliding my fingertips over my length to build up a rhythm. Momentarily lost in my swoon, I had managed to ignore the grating feral moans, when I was jarred by another hoarse groan. Knitting my brow together, I clamped my fingers around the girth of my penis, almost painfully tight, and began to roughly pump my erection. I felt my lips quiver, my body giving way to slight tremors, and heard a low rasping whimper. Was that really my voice?

Some distance off, I caught the murmur of a moan, only spurring me to increase my speed and the pressure of my grip, approaching culmination. I gave a hushed gasp and felt my body go rigid as I climaxed, ejaculating into my palm. I inhaled, feeling my rib cage expand as my penis went flaccid in my hand. The scarce scent of perspiration and slightly salty fragrance of semen filled my nose. Too bad it's mine. I lied back against the pillows, my body covered in a faint sheen of fresh sweat. I felt a bead of perspiration trickle down my temple, and curve into my collarbone, prompting irritation. I extend my hand and wiped my brow. That's when I discovered I'd just used to hand I shot my wad into wipe my face. Great. I swore, sitting up, feeling the viscous fluid on my skin, and slapped my forehead in reproach, creating more of a mess. Wonderful Duo, be sure to use this sort of finesse and charm when you try to woo the King of Hearts. I realized some of the sticky substance had managed to get smeared into my bangs, and I sneered, as I did my best to rake it out. How do I get into these situations?

Forcing myself to rise, I lowered my feet to the floor, momentarily feeling the dull sting of cold floorboards as I disentangled myself from the blankets, and fumbled in the darkness for my boxers. I stumble only briefly as I searched for the garment, and stepping into it, I swiftly tugged them up to my waist. Why am I not Mr. Smooth Operator today? Mr. Smooth would never falter like a blind man in the dark, or wipe his own cum on his face. I feel addled. Stepping over the shadows cast across the floor, I parted the door wide, cringing as it gave a dull creak. I am welcomed only by eerie silence, and a darkened hall, and moonlight streaming in from the window behind me giving the atmosphere a silver glow. Feeling oddly like an intruder, I meander my way down the hall toward the bathroom, only steps away, when it happened. There came a fresh barrage of groans, and squeaking box springs. I am but a few feet away, and the sounds are magnified. I leaned my back against the wall, and released a heavy emission of air. Why does this remind me of that Simon and Garfunkel song Cecilia? How did the lyrics progress, Cecilia, you're breaking my heart, you're shaking my confidence daily, Oh Cecilia, I'm down on my knees, begging you please. I don't recall the rest. I despise feeling sorry for myself. I was definitely surer of winning him over when I had my penis in my hand. Funny how that goes.

I hadn't really noticed, but gradually I had been drawing nearer toward the door at the end of the hall, numb footfalls, leading me closer. Another low moan, less audible, but it had its effect, stirring my attention, and my groin. A moth transfixed with a flickering flame-A flame that sears. I felt my quaking hands slide to the slit in the front of my boxers, groping blindly to withdraw my penis, as I began to caress the flesh. What would it be like to be the one caught in a tangle of sweat stained sheets with Heero? Warring for dominance, exchanging fervent and firm kisses, getting to know him with my fingertips. A soft smile creased over my lips, though shrouded by the shadows. I remember the rest of the song. Making love in the afternoon with Cecilia, up in my bedroom. I could get lost in that.

In fact, so lost was I in my sexual reverie, I was not aware of the bedroom door being drawn ajar, and abruptly smacking me in the face, until wood blocked out all my vision, and I felt the sharp sting of the impact. Caught off guard I teetered and fell, landing hard on my rear. Oh hell. Heero? I leveled my gaze, groping the darkness with my eyes. No. Worse. Trowa. And speaking of wood, here I was, sprawled out on the hallway floor, my legs parted, and my half hard penis exposed. Shit.