Tender
I don't exactly object to the fact that we spend most of our free time laying on the couch making out, I just don't know if I am actually okay with the way he can make me feel. He used to make me angry on purpose to get a reaction-I liked it that way. But now he has me all figured out; he doesn't have to say things to get my temper going, he can just look at me with a certain look in his eye and I am completely under his control. I don't think I can have enough of him.
It isn't the first time that this had happened. There is a grin playing on his lips as he leans across the empty space between us. I can tell from the determined look in his eye he is going to kiss me. I have no intention of stopping him; I have never pushed him away. I guess he assumes that he can do anything he wants-I don't seem to have anything to say otherwise.
His lips are pressing against mine sooner than I had expected. I immediately force my body to relax and let him take control. I'm not comfortable with this lack of control, but I don't know what else to do. All I know is that I don't want him to stop. I wish I knew whether or not he wants me to respond in a different way; whether he wants me to yell at him and take control for myself, or whether he wants me to say his name.
My mind vaguely registers the fact that I should talk to him about this, but his tongue is inside my mouth and I find myself unable to control my own thoughts. His presence around me, on me, in me was too much for my mind; I am completely vulnerable. I blame this tenderness on my naivety after the war. I still can't get myself away from the horrible things that I have experienced throughout my life--even three years after the Mariemaia incident, I can't keep myself from my nightmares.
His hands are untucking the edges of my shirt. A calloused thumb drags in an arc across the softness of my stomach and I can't keep the cringe from my face. He notices and pulls back quickly. A tinge of pink spreads across his face; his voice is rough and shy. "S-sorry, Heero. I didn't realize just-just how for I had gone. I got carried away."
He pulls himself away from me and the couch, almost falling on the floor in his haste. The feelings running through my head are indecipherable. He shouldn't have done that, I'm not comfortable with it. He looks so upset. It felt so good. I don't want him to go.
My hand is on his wrist tugging him back around before my mind catches up with itself. "Don't go," I hear my pathetically small voice say. His eyes search mine for a long moment as if he's trying to read my mind. If that were the case, I think I would let him; I want him to come back.
The grin is back on his face. He settles back down on the couch and the warmth of his body close to mine is comforting. "Alright, Heero, I won't go." His voice is quavering, and his body is almost taunt with anticipation. He lets himself lean toward me, just enough to catch my attetion. It's my turn to read his body language; to look into his soul; to understand what he needs.
With a deep breath, I lean forward and place a timid kiss on his lips.
If you wanted to know, the other person was supposed to be Duo, but I guess it doesn't matter. I am not sure how I feel about this piece--I don't normally write Heero like this (I feel more of a connection with Duo most of the time) and I don't think that this is the character that I normally see him as having.. but I think I like it.
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