Everyone Loves Duo
Author: Gina Lin
Genre: Romance/ Minor Angst/WAFF
Pairing: DM/HS
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, lemon, het
(AN: Ever read a story from Hilde's pov? Me neither. So, I'm writing one. Never written a first person perspective piece either, either so bear with me. Oh, and my first 'real' lemon too. I feel like a damn virgin, so be kind, okay? )
I'm watching him climb down from the top of the scrap heap. Sexy, huh? Well, you wouldn't think so. It's hard and dirty work, sometimes.
Hot, too. Although I don't mind that. Especially right now.
When he gets hot, he strips off the top of his coveralls and ties them around his waist. I get a nice view of the flat lean muscles of his torso, and the nice tan he's getting from doing this every day. That sheen of sweat accents all the right things, as far as I'm concerned.
All right, I'm lusting. Not that that's a bad thing. Lust is good, especially when you love someone.
But, everyone loves Duo, right? How could you not?
The walk, the attitude, the smile, the hair, all of it.
Okay, there are probably some OZ soldiers that fail to see his charm. Especially the dead ones.
I've seen the way people react to him, look at him. Women and some men, even. He's gorgeous. The best part about it is, he doesn't give a damn.
It's like everything else about him. Natural, easy and out in the open.
I wonder when I'll get the courage to be the same.
What am I waiting for? On the other hand, why would he want me?
Maybe if I were beautiful. Oh, I'm not bad to look at. I've been told I'm cute. God, I hate that word. Who wants to be cute? I want to be gorgeous, seductive and sophisticated. Irresistible.
Maybe then, huh? We're friends. Except I don't want to be just friends. Or treated like his little sister. The way I feel is definitely not sisterly.
He's coming over, and I drop my gaze. It won't do to be staring and drooling now, will it?
"Hey, babe," he greets me as usual. He's holding up an oily part of some sort.
"Finally found that coil adapter I was lookin for," he says. I nod dumbly. I don't give a shit about the coil adapter right now.
"Sumthin wrong?" he asks me, cocking his head and giving me a puzzled look.
"Ah, no," I say. God I feel stupid. All I can think about is running my hands over his shoulders and down inside his coveralls to squeeze his..
"Well, gonna go put this to good use," he says, walking off. I'd give 5 years of my life to be that blasted braid, slapping against his perfect ass.
"I'll see you later," I call after his retreating form.
I start thinking to myself that this just isn't going to work. How can I keep living with someone who I'm this in love with and not go insane? I'm absolutely miserable. What am I going to do? I can't ask him to leave. He's been homeless all his life. I can't do that to him, it'd be too cruel. If I tell him how I feel, then he'll want to leave too. The only home he's ever known. I can't do it. I can't.
I feel a tear leaking out of my eye. Pure frustration. I start to wonder if a person can die from it.
My chest hurts, choking me. I try to imagine comforting arms around me and that only makes it worse.
I have to get away. Get away and think.
I walk inside the garage area.
"I'm going out for awhile, keep an eye on things, will you?" I ask, walking up to him. All I can see are his long legs, sticking out from under a moisture collector.
"Where ya goin?" he asks, sliding out from under the machine.
Oops, forgot to think of a good excuse. "Just out," I finally say. "I need to get out of here, is that okay?" I sound bitchy, I know.
"Sure, whatever," he says, but there's a little frown between his eyebrows.
I should apologize, but for some reason, I'm pissed at him. It's his fault I need to run away!
"How long you gonna be gone?" he asks. He has no idea how that casual question affects me. I feel something give way inside.
"None of your fucking business!" I'm yelling at him. His eyes widen and he looks confused. "Just go back to work. What do you care where I go? It's not as though.." I shut my mouth over the last of it.
"Not as though what?" he prompts, starting to look a little angry.
"Nothing. Maybe I need to just go get a drink, get out, put on a dress, have someone stare at my legs, try to pick me up, what's it to you?"
He looks away. "Do what you need to do," he says quietly, and pushes himself under the machine again.
I stand there feeling like a total asshole. "Hey, I'm sorry," I blurt out. "I'm just in a bad mood."
"No shit," he says from under the machine.
"Hey, I said I was sorry," I say again.
He rolls out on the mechanics dolly again. "I heard," he says. "I don't know what crawled up your butt, but if you wanna talk about it, go ahead."
"I can't talk about this with you," I say.
He sits up, looking at me. "Must be bad if you can't tell ol' Duo."
"I just can't," my voice drops almost to a whisper. I feel tears threaten and I do that thing where you bite the inside of your cheek to distract yourself.
"Quit being so nice to me when I'm being such a bitch," I tell him.
He chuckles. "Okay, what do you want me to do, hit you?"
"It might help," I say, smiling in spite of myself.
"Nah, can't bring myself to do it," he says to me, standing up and folding his arms. "Besides, you wanna look pretty if yer goin' out. A black eye won't do much for ya."
The banter has the effect of taking the edge off my mood, just as I'm sure he intended.
"I need to go," I say. "Don't wait up for me," I add.
He nods, but looks concerned. "Be careful," he tells me, reaching out to touch my arm. I flinch away, because if he touches me, I'll lose it. I try to cover the reaction but he notices. He frowns again at me.
"Did I do sumthin wrong?" he asks.
YES! I want to scream. You made me fall in love with you, you jerk!
"No," I say shortly. "It's just me." I turn to go.
"Hilde," he says to my back. I keep walking, trying not to break into a run.
I go inside the house, and run to my room, flinging myself on the bed.
I thought I was going to cry, but nothing happens. Just this dull ache behind my eyes and suddenly, I feel exhausted.
I huddle myself around a pillow and close my eyes. I'll get up and get ready to go in a few minutes. After I just close my eyes for a second.
When I open my eyes again, it's dark. I hear sounds coming from the kitchen and smells of cooking.
I sit up and rub my eyes. I can't believe I fell asleep.
I hear footsteps coming down the hallway, stopping in front of my bedroom door.
"Hilde?" he asks through the door.
I run a hand through my short shaggy hair. I must look like hell, but I say, "Come in."
He opens the door. "Hey, feel better, babe?" he asks. He's smiling at me, his arms folded across his chest. He's had a shower, his hair still looks damp. He smells like lavender soap and heaven.
"Why do you call me that?" I ask suddenly.
"What, 'babe'"? he asks.
I nod.
"Don't ya like it?" he asks. "I won't do it anymore if you don't like it," he says, but I've hurt his feelings again, I can tell. He can't hide the way he feels about anything.
"I'm not your 'babe'," I hear myself say. "I'm just your friend."
"It's just an expression," he says defensively, holding up his hands and grinning. "Don't get pissed again."
"When you find someone you really love, you can call her that," I say.
He looks like I just slapped him. "What?" he asks.
"Quit calling me that, people will think there's something between us."
"Isn't there?" he asks. "Something between us?"
I don't know what to say. "I think you've made it pretty clear we're just friends. Or I'm your little sister, or something." My voice sounds shaky in my ears.
"I guess I'll take that as a no, then," he says. He's trying to grin again, but it comes out looking like a grimace.
Its only when I start to feel lightheaded that I realize I've been holding my breath. I suck in some badly needed oxygen.
"Duo," I say. "I didn't know."
"Me neither," he says.
I can't think of a thing to say, and apparently neither can he for a change.
Finally, the light dawns. His eyes widen and he shakes his head.
"This is what's been buggin you?" he asks, shaking his head. He starts to laugh a little.
I feel myself turn red. "I feel like an idiot already, that's not helping," I tell him, looking for something to throw at him.
"Well, if you're an idiot, I'm one too," he says.
"That makes me feel SO much better," I say. But, I feel like someone just drove a truck off my chest. I can breath again.
He looks at me, not laughing anymore. There's a look in his eyes I haven't seen before. "Come here," he says, his voice low and husky.
"No, you come here," I pat the bed next to me.
He crosses the room in a few long strides and suddenly, I'm being pressed down against the mattress, his voice is growling in my ear.
"Damn, babe, I've been wanting to do this forever."
His mouth tickles my ear, and his lips slide down to my throat, leaving small wet kisses. I hear myself whimper a little. A needy little sound. It's like one of my fantasies coming to life and I'm still not sure it's real.
"Duo," I say, trying to get his attention. His hands are pulling up my t- shirt and I need to say something before I forget my name.
"What?" he asks in a distracted tone, fiddling with the waistband on my pants.
"Say it."
"What?" he asks, snaking his hands across my bare stomach.
I sit up, pushing his hands away. "I want to hear you say it."
He looks at me in faint consternation. "What do you want me to say?"
"How you feel about me."
He gives me a lopsided grin. "Well, I don't feel like your brother, or else this is incest," he jokes.
I smack him lightly on the head. "No jokes!" I command. But, I'm smiling. I can't help myself.
"Okay, no jokes," he agrees. I'm pinned by his eyes. Blue with streaks of deeper violet tones. Gazing at me hungrily. Long lashes. Like a girls, almost, but he'd hate me saying that.
"I love ya, Hilde." His cheeks suddenly are tinged pink.
"You're blushing," I say, teasing him a little.
"Am not," he says softly.
"Are too," I whisper.
"I wanna kiss ya," he says, lowering his eyes.
"Please," I tell him. "Do it."
By no means is this a smooth endeavor at first. We fumble around each other's lips a bit until we figure out where the noses fit, but eventually it all comes together and our mouths and tongues find each other. I'm breathing so hard, I can't think and wondering if I did it "right".
I've never done this before and I'm sure it shows.
"Sorry," I mumble as we break apart, finally.
"It's fine," I hear him whisper. "No big deal."
"I've never, you know," I say, leaving the obvious unsaid.
"Then we'd better make sure it's good," he says in my ear.
I shiver at the warm breath across my neck, tickling my ear.
"We'll go slow," he says.
"What about dinner?" I ask, trying to sit up.
"It's fine," he says, pushing me back gently. "Don't worry about it."
He looks down at me, raising an eyebrow. "We don't have to do this, ya know." He runs a long finger down my upper arm in a soothing gesture.
I realized how clenched I am, then and exhale loudly, trying to relax. "I'm nervous."
"Hey, me too," he says. "I'm just better at hiding it." He gives me that grin again, only it's rueful.
He rolls over and stretches out alongside me on the double bed and closes his eyes, one arm behind his neck. I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, it relaxes me further.
I put my head on his chest so his heart is thudding comfortingly against my ear.
"You must think I'm a rotten tease," I finally say.
"Nah," he says. When he talks, vibrations rumble against my face. It's an interesting sensation.
"You're just bein' honest. I can handle that."
"I really do love you, Duo. For a long time now."
"You should have said something," he says, running his hand through my short curls. It makes me want to purr.
"You didn't," I point out.
"Got me," he sighs. "But, I didn't want to screw up the closest thing I've had to a home in my whole life."
"That's important," I say to him. "I understand. I promise, you'll always have a home here. With me. No matter what."
His arms tighten around me at I say it.
"It's only home if you're here," he says hoarsely.
I reach up and pull his face down to mine. "I'd feel sort of stupid sealing our promise with a handshake, wouldn't you?" I say in a slightly teasing voice.
Before he can react, I straddle his hips and bend down to kiss him wantonly on the mouth, pushing my tongue against his teeth until he responds, opening his mouth with a groan to receive the thrusts of my tongue.
"I'm not nervous anymore," I tell him, as I run tongue around the edge of his jaw and down his neck. I find a spot below his ear that makes his breath catch in his chest a little, so I start to suck and nibble it.
"Oh goody," he says, throwing back his head to give me more access to the spot. Feeling bold, I bite down a little harder and he gasps loudly. Giggling a little, I soothe the mark with my tongue, blowing on it.
"So, you wanna play rough, huh?" He grabs my wrists and flips me over onto my back. He does it so easily. I've forgotten how strong he is. A mildly predatory look enters his eyes, as he pins my arms down along my sides and proceeds to kiss me senseless.
I suck in a much-needed breath afterwards and wonder if my eyes are as glazed over as his are.
"Duo," I say. I don't even recognize my voice. It's rough and throaty with passion. "Help me."
"What?" he asks, his voice equally rough. "What do you want?"
I realize he's asking permission.
"I want you."
"How?" he asks, panting as he releases my wrists. I reach around his neck and pull him down.
"Everywhere," is all I can think of to say.
He pulls off his shirt over his head, and throws it behind him somewhere.
"Sit," he says, scooting back on my legs and pulling me up.
He takes the bottom of my t-shirt and pulls it over my head. I don't have anything on underneath. He grabs my hands as I instinctively try to fold my arms to cover my breasts.
"Don't," he says. I drop my arms, trying not to feel embarrassed.
I wonder if he's aware of his tongue licking his lips at the moment, and I give a little shiver.
He pulls me to him and the feeling of my nipples against his bare chest is exquisite. I find myself squirming against him, enjoying the friction.
He says my name and I'm pushed down again, as he begins to nuzzle one breast then another. When he takes a nipple between his lips, I gasp loudly and my vision blacks around the edges as I squeeze my eyes shut.
White heat runs along my limbs and down between my legs.
Duo whispers something I can't quite understand, but I grab his head and hear myself beg, "More."
He gives the other nipple equal attention and I'm making incoherent noises of satisfaction.
"Off," I manage to say after a few moments. He pulls back his head, giving me a quizzical look for a second.
"Pants." He nods, grinning rather wolfishly as he understands my request.
I reach down to unfasten my jeans, but he beats me to the buttons and zippers and deftly undoes them. I raise my butt up so he can work them down and before I know it, I'm naked to his gaze. He tosses my clothes somewhere behind him, not looking at anything but me.
"Now you," I say next. I'm past all embarrassment, overwhelmed with the need to press naked flesh against naked flesh.
I reach up and fumbling a little, unfastening his black jeans. I suddenly realize he has nothing on underneath. I raise my brows.
"I forgot to do the laundry," he says, shrugging. I shake my head, and lay back on the bed, hugging myself as I giggle.
"I don't mind, this time," I finally say, as I raise up on my elbows.
He stands up quickly and slides off the jeans, and I suddenly get an acute attack of shyness. I've never seen a naked man before, and I'm entranced.
I feel my face flush, but I can't quit looking.
"Don't be nervous," he says, laying down next to me and reaching over to gently rub my bare stomach.
"Oh my god," I say.
"You can call me Duo," he jokes, and I roll my eyes.
"No, it's nice," I tell him. "I want to touch you."
"Me too," he says, lowering his hand to the dark curls between my legs.
I open my thighs to give him access, and he runs one finger down the moist seam there. The touch only makes me want more, and I push against his hand. I forget everything but that, I'm lost in the sensation.
The universe narrows to that one point as he continues to stroke the wet nub of flesh he finds there. Finally, I feel pressure at the entrance to my body and I almost scream as two fingers enter me.
I'm chanting his name as the fingers gently thrust into me, and I arch my back as pant and writhe against his hand. "Harder," I whisper.
He obliges and I open my eyes to lock with his. He's watching my pleasure and I suddenly realize that his own need is pressing hard against my thigh.
"Come for me, baby," he whispers, thrusting hard and fast inside of me, and I suddenly feel a tingle up my spine that makes my vision sparkle and my whole body spasms up to meet his hand. A soundless scream comes from me, and I shudder violently.
I pull him close to ride out the waves of the orgasm and he strokes my back and hair. "Good, huh?" he asks quietly.
I can only nod dumbly, the power of speech hasn't returned yet.
"There's more," he says, "I need you."
"I need you too," I finally am able to say.
He moans and bends down to kiss me again and I run my hands down his hips, pulling him to me. I feel his desire hot and wet. I reach down to touch him there and he shivers.
"Oh god yes," he mutters. I wrap my hand around him gently and he can't help but thrust against my hand.
"Not too much," he says, gasping.
"Please," I say, guiding him to me. "It won't hurt," I say, "Don't worry."
"You sure?" I look up at him and he's biting his lip to hang on.
"Positive," I assure him. I smile and he gently lowers himself, and I feel him enter me slowly, filling me, and it's amazing, better than anything I've ever felt before.
"You're so tight," he mutters and I tell him, "Move, baby, move."
He moves. "Ah, so good," he moans, and I can tell after a few hard thrusts that I've seen the last of his control. I feel my own desire rising again and I know I'm going to come again with him at the end. Just hearing his pleasure and feeling it is bringing me to the brink again.
"YES!" I scream, and a few moments later, he stiffens and I feel his release.
He collapses against me and we're gasping, sweaty and sated.
My limbs feel heavy and drugged and my mind is a blank.
I don't mind his weight, it's comforting, but before I can say, he rolls to one side, and pulls me close, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"Good," I say, it's the only word that comes to mind. We lay there spooned together. It's the most quiet he's ever been, I think. I can feel him smiling against my neck.
"I'm starving," he then says in a sleepy voice, and I reach around to swat his hip.
"Mr. Romance," I say, stretching languorously.
"Sorry," he says, chuckling. "I can't help it."
"I'm hungry too," I say. "What're we having?" I pull the bed sheet around me, but he's totally comfortable lying there naked.
"Maxwell's Famous Casserole," he says, and I groan. "What's that?"
"Whatever I find in the fridge," he says, grinning.
"I'd eat anything right now," I say.
"Well, that's good, because you won't be disappointed."
"You never disappoint me," I say and I see him realize we're not talking about food anymore.
"I love you, babe," he says, and we wrap our arms around each other, holding each other tight.
"I like that," I say softly into his shoulder.
"What?" he asks gently.
"Babe."
The End
Author: Gina Lin
Genre: Romance/ Minor Angst/WAFF
Pairing: DM/HS
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, lemon, het
(AN: Ever read a story from Hilde's pov? Me neither. So, I'm writing one. Never written a first person perspective piece either, either so bear with me. Oh, and my first 'real' lemon too. I feel like a damn virgin, so be kind, okay? )
I'm watching him climb down from the top of the scrap heap. Sexy, huh? Well, you wouldn't think so. It's hard and dirty work, sometimes.
Hot, too. Although I don't mind that. Especially right now.
When he gets hot, he strips off the top of his coveralls and ties them around his waist. I get a nice view of the flat lean muscles of his torso, and the nice tan he's getting from doing this every day. That sheen of sweat accents all the right things, as far as I'm concerned.
All right, I'm lusting. Not that that's a bad thing. Lust is good, especially when you love someone.
But, everyone loves Duo, right? How could you not?
The walk, the attitude, the smile, the hair, all of it.
Okay, there are probably some OZ soldiers that fail to see his charm. Especially the dead ones.
I've seen the way people react to him, look at him. Women and some men, even. He's gorgeous. The best part about it is, he doesn't give a damn.
It's like everything else about him. Natural, easy and out in the open.
I wonder when I'll get the courage to be the same.
What am I waiting for? On the other hand, why would he want me?
Maybe if I were beautiful. Oh, I'm not bad to look at. I've been told I'm cute. God, I hate that word. Who wants to be cute? I want to be gorgeous, seductive and sophisticated. Irresistible.
Maybe then, huh? We're friends. Except I don't want to be just friends. Or treated like his little sister. The way I feel is definitely not sisterly.
He's coming over, and I drop my gaze. It won't do to be staring and drooling now, will it?
"Hey, babe," he greets me as usual. He's holding up an oily part of some sort.
"Finally found that coil adapter I was lookin for," he says. I nod dumbly. I don't give a shit about the coil adapter right now.
"Sumthin wrong?" he asks me, cocking his head and giving me a puzzled look.
"Ah, no," I say. God I feel stupid. All I can think about is running my hands over his shoulders and down inside his coveralls to squeeze his..
"Well, gonna go put this to good use," he says, walking off. I'd give 5 years of my life to be that blasted braid, slapping against his perfect ass.
"I'll see you later," I call after his retreating form.
I start thinking to myself that this just isn't going to work. How can I keep living with someone who I'm this in love with and not go insane? I'm absolutely miserable. What am I going to do? I can't ask him to leave. He's been homeless all his life. I can't do that to him, it'd be too cruel. If I tell him how I feel, then he'll want to leave too. The only home he's ever known. I can't do it. I can't.
I feel a tear leaking out of my eye. Pure frustration. I start to wonder if a person can die from it.
My chest hurts, choking me. I try to imagine comforting arms around me and that only makes it worse.
I have to get away. Get away and think.
I walk inside the garage area.
"I'm going out for awhile, keep an eye on things, will you?" I ask, walking up to him. All I can see are his long legs, sticking out from under a moisture collector.
"Where ya goin?" he asks, sliding out from under the machine.
Oops, forgot to think of a good excuse. "Just out," I finally say. "I need to get out of here, is that okay?" I sound bitchy, I know.
"Sure, whatever," he says, but there's a little frown between his eyebrows.
I should apologize, but for some reason, I'm pissed at him. It's his fault I need to run away!
"How long you gonna be gone?" he asks. He has no idea how that casual question affects me. I feel something give way inside.
"None of your fucking business!" I'm yelling at him. His eyes widen and he looks confused. "Just go back to work. What do you care where I go? It's not as though.." I shut my mouth over the last of it.
"Not as though what?" he prompts, starting to look a little angry.
"Nothing. Maybe I need to just go get a drink, get out, put on a dress, have someone stare at my legs, try to pick me up, what's it to you?"
He looks away. "Do what you need to do," he says quietly, and pushes himself under the machine again.
I stand there feeling like a total asshole. "Hey, I'm sorry," I blurt out. "I'm just in a bad mood."
"No shit," he says from under the machine.
"Hey, I said I was sorry," I say again.
He rolls out on the mechanics dolly again. "I heard," he says. "I don't know what crawled up your butt, but if you wanna talk about it, go ahead."
"I can't talk about this with you," I say.
He sits up, looking at me. "Must be bad if you can't tell ol' Duo."
"I just can't," my voice drops almost to a whisper. I feel tears threaten and I do that thing where you bite the inside of your cheek to distract yourself.
"Quit being so nice to me when I'm being such a bitch," I tell him.
He chuckles. "Okay, what do you want me to do, hit you?"
"It might help," I say, smiling in spite of myself.
"Nah, can't bring myself to do it," he says to me, standing up and folding his arms. "Besides, you wanna look pretty if yer goin' out. A black eye won't do much for ya."
The banter has the effect of taking the edge off my mood, just as I'm sure he intended.
"I need to go," I say. "Don't wait up for me," I add.
He nods, but looks concerned. "Be careful," he tells me, reaching out to touch my arm. I flinch away, because if he touches me, I'll lose it. I try to cover the reaction but he notices. He frowns again at me.
"Did I do sumthin wrong?" he asks.
YES! I want to scream. You made me fall in love with you, you jerk!
"No," I say shortly. "It's just me." I turn to go.
"Hilde," he says to my back. I keep walking, trying not to break into a run.
I go inside the house, and run to my room, flinging myself on the bed.
I thought I was going to cry, but nothing happens. Just this dull ache behind my eyes and suddenly, I feel exhausted.
I huddle myself around a pillow and close my eyes. I'll get up and get ready to go in a few minutes. After I just close my eyes for a second.
When I open my eyes again, it's dark. I hear sounds coming from the kitchen and smells of cooking.
I sit up and rub my eyes. I can't believe I fell asleep.
I hear footsteps coming down the hallway, stopping in front of my bedroom door.
"Hilde?" he asks through the door.
I run a hand through my short shaggy hair. I must look like hell, but I say, "Come in."
He opens the door. "Hey, feel better, babe?" he asks. He's smiling at me, his arms folded across his chest. He's had a shower, his hair still looks damp. He smells like lavender soap and heaven.
"Why do you call me that?" I ask suddenly.
"What, 'babe'"? he asks.
I nod.
"Don't ya like it?" he asks. "I won't do it anymore if you don't like it," he says, but I've hurt his feelings again, I can tell. He can't hide the way he feels about anything.
"I'm not your 'babe'," I hear myself say. "I'm just your friend."
"It's just an expression," he says defensively, holding up his hands and grinning. "Don't get pissed again."
"When you find someone you really love, you can call her that," I say.
He looks like I just slapped him. "What?" he asks.
"Quit calling me that, people will think there's something between us."
"Isn't there?" he asks. "Something between us?"
I don't know what to say. "I think you've made it pretty clear we're just friends. Or I'm your little sister, or something." My voice sounds shaky in my ears.
"I guess I'll take that as a no, then," he says. He's trying to grin again, but it comes out looking like a grimace.
Its only when I start to feel lightheaded that I realize I've been holding my breath. I suck in some badly needed oxygen.
"Duo," I say. "I didn't know."
"Me neither," he says.
I can't think of a thing to say, and apparently neither can he for a change.
Finally, the light dawns. His eyes widen and he shakes his head.
"This is what's been buggin you?" he asks, shaking his head. He starts to laugh a little.
I feel myself turn red. "I feel like an idiot already, that's not helping," I tell him, looking for something to throw at him.
"Well, if you're an idiot, I'm one too," he says.
"That makes me feel SO much better," I say. But, I feel like someone just drove a truck off my chest. I can breath again.
He looks at me, not laughing anymore. There's a look in his eyes I haven't seen before. "Come here," he says, his voice low and husky.
"No, you come here," I pat the bed next to me.
He crosses the room in a few long strides and suddenly, I'm being pressed down against the mattress, his voice is growling in my ear.
"Damn, babe, I've been wanting to do this forever."
His mouth tickles my ear, and his lips slide down to my throat, leaving small wet kisses. I hear myself whimper a little. A needy little sound. It's like one of my fantasies coming to life and I'm still not sure it's real.
"Duo," I say, trying to get his attention. His hands are pulling up my t- shirt and I need to say something before I forget my name.
"What?" he asks in a distracted tone, fiddling with the waistband on my pants.
"Say it."
"What?" he asks, snaking his hands across my bare stomach.
I sit up, pushing his hands away. "I want to hear you say it."
He looks at me in faint consternation. "What do you want me to say?"
"How you feel about me."
He gives me a lopsided grin. "Well, I don't feel like your brother, or else this is incest," he jokes.
I smack him lightly on the head. "No jokes!" I command. But, I'm smiling. I can't help myself.
"Okay, no jokes," he agrees. I'm pinned by his eyes. Blue with streaks of deeper violet tones. Gazing at me hungrily. Long lashes. Like a girls, almost, but he'd hate me saying that.
"I love ya, Hilde." His cheeks suddenly are tinged pink.
"You're blushing," I say, teasing him a little.
"Am not," he says softly.
"Are too," I whisper.
"I wanna kiss ya," he says, lowering his eyes.
"Please," I tell him. "Do it."
By no means is this a smooth endeavor at first. We fumble around each other's lips a bit until we figure out where the noses fit, but eventually it all comes together and our mouths and tongues find each other. I'm breathing so hard, I can't think and wondering if I did it "right".
I've never done this before and I'm sure it shows.
"Sorry," I mumble as we break apart, finally.
"It's fine," I hear him whisper. "No big deal."
"I've never, you know," I say, leaving the obvious unsaid.
"Then we'd better make sure it's good," he says in my ear.
I shiver at the warm breath across my neck, tickling my ear.
"We'll go slow," he says.
"What about dinner?" I ask, trying to sit up.
"It's fine," he says, pushing me back gently. "Don't worry about it."
He looks down at me, raising an eyebrow. "We don't have to do this, ya know." He runs a long finger down my upper arm in a soothing gesture.
I realized how clenched I am, then and exhale loudly, trying to relax. "I'm nervous."
"Hey, me too," he says. "I'm just better at hiding it." He gives me that grin again, only it's rueful.
He rolls over and stretches out alongside me on the double bed and closes his eyes, one arm behind his neck. I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, it relaxes me further.
I put my head on his chest so his heart is thudding comfortingly against my ear.
"You must think I'm a rotten tease," I finally say.
"Nah," he says. When he talks, vibrations rumble against my face. It's an interesting sensation.
"You're just bein' honest. I can handle that."
"I really do love you, Duo. For a long time now."
"You should have said something," he says, running his hand through my short curls. It makes me want to purr.
"You didn't," I point out.
"Got me," he sighs. "But, I didn't want to screw up the closest thing I've had to a home in my whole life."
"That's important," I say to him. "I understand. I promise, you'll always have a home here. With me. No matter what."
His arms tighten around me at I say it.
"It's only home if you're here," he says hoarsely.
I reach up and pull his face down to mine. "I'd feel sort of stupid sealing our promise with a handshake, wouldn't you?" I say in a slightly teasing voice.
Before he can react, I straddle his hips and bend down to kiss him wantonly on the mouth, pushing my tongue against his teeth until he responds, opening his mouth with a groan to receive the thrusts of my tongue.
"I'm not nervous anymore," I tell him, as I run tongue around the edge of his jaw and down his neck. I find a spot below his ear that makes his breath catch in his chest a little, so I start to suck and nibble it.
"Oh goody," he says, throwing back his head to give me more access to the spot. Feeling bold, I bite down a little harder and he gasps loudly. Giggling a little, I soothe the mark with my tongue, blowing on it.
"So, you wanna play rough, huh?" He grabs my wrists and flips me over onto my back. He does it so easily. I've forgotten how strong he is. A mildly predatory look enters his eyes, as he pins my arms down along my sides and proceeds to kiss me senseless.
I suck in a much-needed breath afterwards and wonder if my eyes are as glazed over as his are.
"Duo," I say. I don't even recognize my voice. It's rough and throaty with passion. "Help me."
"What?" he asks, his voice equally rough. "What do you want?"
I realize he's asking permission.
"I want you."
"How?" he asks, panting as he releases my wrists. I reach around his neck and pull him down.
"Everywhere," is all I can think of to say.
He pulls off his shirt over his head, and throws it behind him somewhere.
"Sit," he says, scooting back on my legs and pulling me up.
He takes the bottom of my t-shirt and pulls it over my head. I don't have anything on underneath. He grabs my hands as I instinctively try to fold my arms to cover my breasts.
"Don't," he says. I drop my arms, trying not to feel embarrassed.
I wonder if he's aware of his tongue licking his lips at the moment, and I give a little shiver.
He pulls me to him and the feeling of my nipples against his bare chest is exquisite. I find myself squirming against him, enjoying the friction.
He says my name and I'm pushed down again, as he begins to nuzzle one breast then another. When he takes a nipple between his lips, I gasp loudly and my vision blacks around the edges as I squeeze my eyes shut.
White heat runs along my limbs and down between my legs.
Duo whispers something I can't quite understand, but I grab his head and hear myself beg, "More."
He gives the other nipple equal attention and I'm making incoherent noises of satisfaction.
"Off," I manage to say after a few moments. He pulls back his head, giving me a quizzical look for a second.
"Pants." He nods, grinning rather wolfishly as he understands my request.
I reach down to unfasten my jeans, but he beats me to the buttons and zippers and deftly undoes them. I raise my butt up so he can work them down and before I know it, I'm naked to his gaze. He tosses my clothes somewhere behind him, not looking at anything but me.
"Now you," I say next. I'm past all embarrassment, overwhelmed with the need to press naked flesh against naked flesh.
I reach up and fumbling a little, unfastening his black jeans. I suddenly realize he has nothing on underneath. I raise my brows.
"I forgot to do the laundry," he says, shrugging. I shake my head, and lay back on the bed, hugging myself as I giggle.
"I don't mind, this time," I finally say, as I raise up on my elbows.
He stands up quickly and slides off the jeans, and I suddenly get an acute attack of shyness. I've never seen a naked man before, and I'm entranced.
I feel my face flush, but I can't quit looking.
"Don't be nervous," he says, laying down next to me and reaching over to gently rub my bare stomach.
"Oh my god," I say.
"You can call me Duo," he jokes, and I roll my eyes.
"No, it's nice," I tell him. "I want to touch you."
"Me too," he says, lowering his hand to the dark curls between my legs.
I open my thighs to give him access, and he runs one finger down the moist seam there. The touch only makes me want more, and I push against his hand. I forget everything but that, I'm lost in the sensation.
The universe narrows to that one point as he continues to stroke the wet nub of flesh he finds there. Finally, I feel pressure at the entrance to my body and I almost scream as two fingers enter me.
I'm chanting his name as the fingers gently thrust into me, and I arch my back as pant and writhe against his hand. "Harder," I whisper.
He obliges and I open my eyes to lock with his. He's watching my pleasure and I suddenly realize that his own need is pressing hard against my thigh.
"Come for me, baby," he whispers, thrusting hard and fast inside of me, and I suddenly feel a tingle up my spine that makes my vision sparkle and my whole body spasms up to meet his hand. A soundless scream comes from me, and I shudder violently.
I pull him close to ride out the waves of the orgasm and he strokes my back and hair. "Good, huh?" he asks quietly.
I can only nod dumbly, the power of speech hasn't returned yet.
"There's more," he says, "I need you."
"I need you too," I finally am able to say.
He moans and bends down to kiss me again and I run my hands down his hips, pulling him to me. I feel his desire hot and wet. I reach down to touch him there and he shivers.
"Oh god yes," he mutters. I wrap my hand around him gently and he can't help but thrust against my hand.
"Not too much," he says, gasping.
"Please," I say, guiding him to me. "It won't hurt," I say, "Don't worry."
"You sure?" I look up at him and he's biting his lip to hang on.
"Positive," I assure him. I smile and he gently lowers himself, and I feel him enter me slowly, filling me, and it's amazing, better than anything I've ever felt before.
"You're so tight," he mutters and I tell him, "Move, baby, move."
He moves. "Ah, so good," he moans, and I can tell after a few hard thrusts that I've seen the last of his control. I feel my own desire rising again and I know I'm going to come again with him at the end. Just hearing his pleasure and feeling it is bringing me to the brink again.
"YES!" I scream, and a few moments later, he stiffens and I feel his release.
He collapses against me and we're gasping, sweaty and sated.
My limbs feel heavy and drugged and my mind is a blank.
I don't mind his weight, it's comforting, but before I can say, he rolls to one side, and pulls me close, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"Good," I say, it's the only word that comes to mind. We lay there spooned together. It's the most quiet he's ever been, I think. I can feel him smiling against my neck.
"I'm starving," he then says in a sleepy voice, and I reach around to swat his hip.
"Mr. Romance," I say, stretching languorously.
"Sorry," he says, chuckling. "I can't help it."
"I'm hungry too," I say. "What're we having?" I pull the bed sheet around me, but he's totally comfortable lying there naked.
"Maxwell's Famous Casserole," he says, and I groan. "What's that?"
"Whatever I find in the fridge," he says, grinning.
"I'd eat anything right now," I say.
"Well, that's good, because you won't be disappointed."
"You never disappoint me," I say and I see him realize we're not talking about food anymore.
"I love you, babe," he says, and we wrap our arms around each other, holding each other tight.
"I like that," I say softly into his shoulder.
"What?" he asks gently.
"Babe."
The End