Title: The Love Artist
Author: Viridian Magpie
Rating: M
Summary: Talent wasn't needed. Lust made up for that.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.
"What do you need?"
Words spoken brashly, hiding his anxiety. A strange request certainly? It was something like a joke… prank… whatever.
"A present?"
Pause. Yeah, kinda.
"No problem. A canvass?"
Shake of head. No need.
A day passed. It was ready, he fetched it, then waited in the apartment until finally he turned up. Shower first, Duo understood, for it must feel like ages to him since last he's had one. Besides, this was in his interest, as well, he could hold out a little longer.
The water stopped and Heero sauntered by, drying himself with a towel. He paused before the bedroom, one eyebrow raised. Duo nodded that yes, he wanted to (desperately). It might have been a tiring mission, but provided he wasn't in a coma, Heero would always be up to a little bit of fun – a quirk of being the Perfect Soldier, Duo guessed, (and wouldn't that madman throw a fit if he knew what all that careful training and honing was being used for now?).
Duo, on the other hand, always needed a day to rest if the assignment proved especially gruelling, as the one scheduled for tomorrow was likely to be. Heero didn't know yet that he would leave. He'd tell him later, but first he'd make up for his absence in advance. Definitely.
When Duo entered the bedroom, Heero was already lying on the bed, his face expressionless until he noticed the small bag in Duo's hand.
"Turn around. Close your eyes."
Somehow, he had the feeling that his lover just refrained from saying "yes, sir". Okay, they were perhaps not the most romantic words ever spoken, so he had a point. That aside, Heero did present his back to him and he did close his eyes. Trust was a nice thing to share.
And far too easy to lose, harder to even gain, so it did prompt Duo to halt in his advance to the bed, just to reflect on it a little and enjoy the warm and cosy feeling this gave him. Then he continued his way, sitting down finally beside Heero and unzipping the bag.
At the first soft brush, the body of his lover twitched slightly as it always did when coming into contact with Duo's long braid. When he had discovered this, he thought that Heero might be ticklish, but the touch of teasing hands had not yielded quite the same result (a glare and a derisive snort and then retaliation) and neither had feathers or Duo's soft breath or gentle lips (there had been a reaction but it had been different).
It was his hair and only that which elicited that response and Duo had used this find to its fullest or almost, for he had had another idea recently, a better one (he hoped), pleasing to both of them (perhaps).
It had been quite some time since he had last indulged in this, too much going on to find the time and, anyway, he'd been a child back then, playful, not bothered with details. Didn't matter. Duo shook the memories away before returning to his task.
Take the brush, submerge it in water, then colour and finally apply it to your lover's skin. See how he shivers for his body knows that feeling, the sensation his partner's hair.
It had been worth sacrificing these couple of inches. Duo dipped and applied, dipped and applied, and at times he blew gently to make the colour dry faster; and Heero twitched nad shivered and gasped and moaned as he was turned around, as the brush touched yet more sensitive places, covering them with a myriad of colours. Yet, one of them prevailed, because red was their primary colour in that state until, until…. Another breath another brush and now some of Heero's own paint coated Duo like a reverse signing – the drawing leaving its signature on the artist.
He smiled. Cockily. Heh.
Before long he would leave his signature on that masterpiece before him, adding his colour where no other had been applied before.