One More Chance - Part 1
By: Teej
Noise. Such a high level of noise always manages to release high doses of adrenaline. It didn't matter whether the noise were bombs and bullets, or a high volumed melodic beat, but it always brought such a high rush. With the melodic beat, though, it was a bit easier to dance to. Especially in such a place as this.
A couple hundred or so men swarming about, enjoying what may be their last night on this Earth before they are sent to war. A dark, thickly heated atmosphere, promoting the passion being exchanged between the glistening bodies, constrained to such a degree that even a straight man would consider going gay. Blinding colors of purple, silver, blue, black, gold, and every other color adored the curving bodies, and the dance floor beneath them.
The smell of smoke, alcohol, and the noise combined may have been enough to discourage a few at first, but a single step into the appetizing swarm of bodies was enough to make a boy lose his mind. The beat would grow into you quickly, and before you knew it, you were lost in the flood of heated bodies. Within seconds you would be hard and helpless, molding yourself to the bodies around you. There was no way to escape it, no way to evade it once you entered the place. It was far more enticing a thing than any other, especially for a young boy preparing for his death. Such enticements had drawn Duo Maxwell himself into such a God forbidden place.
His mission was to destroy the military base nearby. His deadline was two days away. Two days he could spend relaxing and being a human again. The place had appeared alluring at first, quite interesting to say the least. The smell had caused his stomach to cringe, but the beat had drawn him in before he could even say hello. Within minutes his moves were perfectly formed to the beat. His body had begun to react to sensations he could never imagine. And before he knew it, he was drunk on the erotic passion, urging himself into each body to clearly display his need, and to invite any to help him out of such a thing.
At first he had not noted the form that had moved closer to his backside, that had begun to match every single twist, every single curve of the hips that he had. When he had felt his softly rounded, velvet clad bum grinded into by someone he had guessed was a touch taller then he, the figure had instantly attained his attention. He wanted to jerk himself around, though his nerves told him to calm back into the beat and to enjoy the moment as it had begun to play out.
A soft breeze of air touch his inner ear, lightly warmer then the thick atmosphere that surrounded them. A voice reached to his ear soon after, soft with a seductive sense of care, yet deep all at the same time. If he'd not known better, he would've sworn it could have belonged to Heero, or even Trowa. He knew better then to believe either of them would have come to this place, let alone to have been sent to a mission any of the five could have easily handled. It took what felt like forever, to him, to make out the words that were being personally delivered to his ear, "May I have this dance?"
He could not think, nor did he dare to even begin attempting such a feit. With the gyrations of the hips into his bum, and the lips that had begun to nibble gently at his ear, there was no chance of such an action taking place. He continued to work his body as much as he could into the hips so kindly offered, but his twists were faltering beyond a rapid pace. His breath had become heated, his lungs far more desperate to draw air into them.
He didn't detect the movement of a hand so slim, yet trained to be elite in strength. He could only catch a glimpse of the movement around his waist, and from what he could detect in his position, the body that had begun to press closer to his own had to have been well muscled, well trained in all combat skills. There was no doubt, though the thoughts did not register dangerous to him in such a place. All weapons were checked at the door, there was no possible danger that a few quick actions on his behalf could not prevent.
His mind had become even drunker on the hot passion, that it took him a few moments to register just where that hand was heading. So perhaps his thoughts of quick actions saving him were that much more false? Duo's breath could only quicken when he felt an even greater warm surround one of his most sensitive organs. He didn't even consider allowing the sensation of the long strands feathering out between the two bodies to register, for the sensation between his legs seemed to overload his receptors. His legs, legs strong and trained for the toughest of conditions could not help but to desperately wish turning to butter beneath him, which only worsened his condition by helping to press himself further into the comforting hand.
Nimble digits of the hand that held him had begun to practically knead into his groin, practically pleading for him to grow within that hand. He was certainly not going to be one to displease in the matter. He was ready to fall forward into the floor, but another unregistered hand had taken the liberty in finding its way up beneath the thin layer of silk that helped to cover his chest. Two digits belonging to that particular appendage had begun to caress his every muscle, to gently tease each nipple, helping the first hand to draw out each and every moan, deeper than the last, that the more experienced boy could from the braided Shinigami.
Though at first he barely registered the sensation, sweetly thin lips had sought out poor Duo's neck. At first they had started behind his ear, but had lead down along the vein that was just behind it, and soon discovered an even sweeter neck. The added sensation was barely recognized at first, but soon had played as vital a part as either of those hands did.
He was lost in his own world, and quite doubtful that he would ever be able to regain any sense before the moment could close. The sensations, one added on to the other, drew out moans that were forcibly wrenched from a heart that thought it could stand no more. Little did he know, though, that the sensations he felt then would only be the beginning of his experience.
He never woke until after the sharp pain entered his body through his abdomen. It'd been given enough force to cause his body to curl instinctively about his injury. Despite his grogginess, not to mention the pain in regions he cared not to say, the voice was crystal clear to his ear, "Get up and get out, drunken drugged-up little fag."
It was quite certain that if he'd not reached his senses from the kick, that he certainly had with those words. Snapping his hand out, he grabbed and pulled the man's foot from beneath him, tripping him to the floor. "See how you like it, fool." Rotating his body, he brought the tip of his boot down into the worker's gut, satisfied only when he heard the groan of an intolerable pain. "First of all, never wake up an Angel of Death." Raising to his full height, he reached his arms high above his head, to help stretch out stiffened muscles. "Secondly, don't accuse a Shinigami of that crap." Allowing the blanket that had been tucked in about his body to fall from his form, he rested each hand to black clothed hips. "And thirdly, us little 'fags'? We're the ones that pay your salary. I suggest you grow a little more respect for your customers."
Without another word, he pivoted upon a heel to face the door. He walked from the place, ignoring the soar muscles deep within him whilst he contemplated just what had happened, and most of all, ignoring any further inciting slurs that may have been spoken. It seemed the old fool learned a lesson though, for not a single peep had been spit past the elder man's lips.
By: Teej
Noise. Such a high level of noise always manages to release high doses of adrenaline. It didn't matter whether the noise were bombs and bullets, or a high volumed melodic beat, but it always brought such a high rush. With the melodic beat, though, it was a bit easier to dance to. Especially in such a place as this.
A couple hundred or so men swarming about, enjoying what may be their last night on this Earth before they are sent to war. A dark, thickly heated atmosphere, promoting the passion being exchanged between the glistening bodies, constrained to such a degree that even a straight man would consider going gay. Blinding colors of purple, silver, blue, black, gold, and every other color adored the curving bodies, and the dance floor beneath them.
The smell of smoke, alcohol, and the noise combined may have been enough to discourage a few at first, but a single step into the appetizing swarm of bodies was enough to make a boy lose his mind. The beat would grow into you quickly, and before you knew it, you were lost in the flood of heated bodies. Within seconds you would be hard and helpless, molding yourself to the bodies around you. There was no way to escape it, no way to evade it once you entered the place. It was far more enticing a thing than any other, especially for a young boy preparing for his death. Such enticements had drawn Duo Maxwell himself into such a God forbidden place.
His mission was to destroy the military base nearby. His deadline was two days away. Two days he could spend relaxing and being a human again. The place had appeared alluring at first, quite interesting to say the least. The smell had caused his stomach to cringe, but the beat had drawn him in before he could even say hello. Within minutes his moves were perfectly formed to the beat. His body had begun to react to sensations he could never imagine. And before he knew it, he was drunk on the erotic passion, urging himself into each body to clearly display his need, and to invite any to help him out of such a thing.
At first he had not noted the form that had moved closer to his backside, that had begun to match every single twist, every single curve of the hips that he had. When he had felt his softly rounded, velvet clad bum grinded into by someone he had guessed was a touch taller then he, the figure had instantly attained his attention. He wanted to jerk himself around, though his nerves told him to calm back into the beat and to enjoy the moment as it had begun to play out.
A soft breeze of air touch his inner ear, lightly warmer then the thick atmosphere that surrounded them. A voice reached to his ear soon after, soft with a seductive sense of care, yet deep all at the same time. If he'd not known better, he would've sworn it could have belonged to Heero, or even Trowa. He knew better then to believe either of them would have come to this place, let alone to have been sent to a mission any of the five could have easily handled. It took what felt like forever, to him, to make out the words that were being personally delivered to his ear, "May I have this dance?"
He could not think, nor did he dare to even begin attempting such a feit. With the gyrations of the hips into his bum, and the lips that had begun to nibble gently at his ear, there was no chance of such an action taking place. He continued to work his body as much as he could into the hips so kindly offered, but his twists were faltering beyond a rapid pace. His breath had become heated, his lungs far more desperate to draw air into them.
He didn't detect the movement of a hand so slim, yet trained to be elite in strength. He could only catch a glimpse of the movement around his waist, and from what he could detect in his position, the body that had begun to press closer to his own had to have been well muscled, well trained in all combat skills. There was no doubt, though the thoughts did not register dangerous to him in such a place. All weapons were checked at the door, there was no possible danger that a few quick actions on his behalf could not prevent.
His mind had become even drunker on the hot passion, that it took him a few moments to register just where that hand was heading. So perhaps his thoughts of quick actions saving him were that much more false? Duo's breath could only quicken when he felt an even greater warm surround one of his most sensitive organs. He didn't even consider allowing the sensation of the long strands feathering out between the two bodies to register, for the sensation between his legs seemed to overload his receptors. His legs, legs strong and trained for the toughest of conditions could not help but to desperately wish turning to butter beneath him, which only worsened his condition by helping to press himself further into the comforting hand.
Nimble digits of the hand that held him had begun to practically knead into his groin, practically pleading for him to grow within that hand. He was certainly not going to be one to displease in the matter. He was ready to fall forward into the floor, but another unregistered hand had taken the liberty in finding its way up beneath the thin layer of silk that helped to cover his chest. Two digits belonging to that particular appendage had begun to caress his every muscle, to gently tease each nipple, helping the first hand to draw out each and every moan, deeper than the last, that the more experienced boy could from the braided Shinigami.
Though at first he barely registered the sensation, sweetly thin lips had sought out poor Duo's neck. At first they had started behind his ear, but had lead down along the vein that was just behind it, and soon discovered an even sweeter neck. The added sensation was barely recognized at first, but soon had played as vital a part as either of those hands did.
He was lost in his own world, and quite doubtful that he would ever be able to regain any sense before the moment could close. The sensations, one added on to the other, drew out moans that were forcibly wrenched from a heart that thought it could stand no more. Little did he know, though, that the sensations he felt then would only be the beginning of his experience.
He never woke until after the sharp pain entered his body through his abdomen. It'd been given enough force to cause his body to curl instinctively about his injury. Despite his grogginess, not to mention the pain in regions he cared not to say, the voice was crystal clear to his ear, "Get up and get out, drunken drugged-up little fag."
It was quite certain that if he'd not reached his senses from the kick, that he certainly had with those words. Snapping his hand out, he grabbed and pulled the man's foot from beneath him, tripping him to the floor. "See how you like it, fool." Rotating his body, he brought the tip of his boot down into the worker's gut, satisfied only when he heard the groan of an intolerable pain. "First of all, never wake up an Angel of Death." Raising to his full height, he reached his arms high above his head, to help stretch out stiffened muscles. "Secondly, don't accuse a Shinigami of that crap." Allowing the blanket that had been tucked in about his body to fall from his form, he rested each hand to black clothed hips. "And thirdly, us little 'fags'? We're the ones that pay your salary. I suggest you grow a little more respect for your customers."
Without another word, he pivoted upon a heel to face the door. He walked from the place, ignoring the soar muscles deep within him whilst he contemplated just what had happened, and most of all, ignoring any further inciting slurs that may have been spoken. It seemed the old fool learned a lesson though, for not a single peep had been spit past the elder man's lips.