Title: Warm You Up

Author: ELLE

Pairings/Warnings: Heero/Duo, modern day au (I guess), explicit sexual content, explicit language

Notes: Written for Miss Murdered's and I's "Twelve Days of Christmas" prompt challenge. The prompt was "between words." Also, a very happy birthday to Miss M as well! =3

Snow fell gently on the trees, on the railing of the deck, his breath huffing out in little puffs as he stared out at the mountains. It was calm, quiet – Heero liked it. For how many years now had he stood right in that spot, cataloging how the trees changed, how the deck had weathered and the paint chipped?

"Jesus fucking Christ, 'Ro – you must be freezing."

Heero blinked and looked down at himself, the t-shirt, the jersey shorts, the house slippers and the big flannel shirt of Duo's he'd thrown over his shoulders – but he didn't feel cold.

Duo stepped out, holding a big mug of coffee with some stupid saying like 'fuck you' stenciled on it, clearly shivering as he did so.

"This was for me but I think you probably need it more," he offered, stepping up to stand beside him, handing him the cup and muttering something that Heero would've wagered a guess was "fucking hypothermia."

Heero accepted the mug but for a minute they didn't move. Duo leaned into him, resting his chin on his shoulder and looking out at the vista with him. It really was pretty – cloudy and ominous, dark in a secretive, comforting way. It was easy to get lost in.

But Duo was tugging at his pocket, nosing his ear. Whispering. "Let's go inside. Let me warm you up."

He'd started a fire, warm in the homey little wood paneled room. Duo made him sit on the pull out bed, threw the blanket over his legs. For how many years had they sat on this bed together?

It was ridiculous, the first time. Duo had learned of this place from a coworker when they'd only been dating a couple months. Heero thought it was a little fast for a long weekend trip – they had just gotten toothbrushes for each other's apartment – but Duo regaled him with theories of how great it would be and Heero capitulated.

But when they showed up it was woefully underwhelming – a shitty little log room on the edge of a mountain, basically – and though Duo was laughing, Heero was not. It was cold and the drive was long and he didn't enjoy surprises like this but...

Heero took a sip of the coffee, watching Duo as he slipped out of his shirt, muscles flexing, and it was like they were young again, still exploring each other's bodies. Duo smiled and took his coffee from him, took a sip as well and set it on the end table.

Being with Duo was like trying to stand still in a hurricane. The abuse he'd suffered in his past made him violent, prone to mood swings. He could talk himself into a party and out of a speeding ticket but he could never say "I love you." He was captivating and charming and romantic and he knew all ways to push every one of Heero's buttons in the best and most terrible ways. Heero never felt helpless, except with him.

Duo moved to the bed, climbing on carefully, straddling him, pushing the flannel off his shoulders. He didn't say anything but he took Heero's face in his hands and kissed him – deeply, thoroughly – like when they were new, like the first time they were here – like every time they were here.

Heero's arms and legs tingled as they began to warm up again, Duo's body an inferno against his. His hands moved against Duo's waist, cold, causing him to jerk and grin against the contact, but he loved the feeling of Duo's skin.

Wordlessly they shifted, stripped down to nothing, pressed up against each other, kissing with open mouths and little pants, hands roving under the comforter. It was slow, it meant something, reminded him of something. It was the reason they kept coming back.

They fought a lot these days. Or maybe not. Heero never engaged – mute silence against the onslaught of Duo's words. He loved Duo too much. Or maybe not. But he couldn't imagine his life without Duo now and he didn't want to argue. He was tired of words – words Duo said too much of. Words he would never say.

But here? This was their ellipses, the space between. This was a place where Duo didn't need to say anything and yet Heero could hear him better than anywhere else. This was where... Was where Duo handed him a coffee he'd clearly made himself and Heero could hear I love you. Where Duo initiated sex without anger and Heero could hear I love you. Where they would lay in bed together for hours with nothing but a bottle of wine and Heero could hear I love you.

Heero's hands finally felt warm as Duo sucked at his neck, nuzzling little bite marks into the skin. And he took Duo into his hand, felt how hard he was, how hot, how much he wanted him – not for what he was or what he would be, just for that moment. Duo wanted him honestly, wholly, no strings attached. And Heero could hear the words he would never say.

He remembered how Duo cried the first time he'd told him, remembered how he begged him not to say it – that he would lose him, he would lose him, if he admitted how much he... Because everything he loved he lost.

And Heero thought he understood, thought Duo would get over it, but he didn't. He never did. And it wasn't so much resentment as much as – he needed to hear it. And it was hard to hear it underneath the clutter of a 40+ hour work week and social events and bills and an endless number of dinners spent staring into laptops and cellphones. But here...

Heero kissed him as he fucked him – kissed him on the mouth, on the chin, on the cheeks, on the neck. Pressed kisses into every slip of his skin that he could reach, sweat slick against his lips, against his abs and legs and he went slow because they were both raw from days of this but fuck – this was what they had. He wanted to see those words on Duo's face. He wanted to feel it on the strain in his thighs. Wanted to hold him close and have him whisper it against his skin, lips trembling against his shoulder, every thrust bringing him closer to the edge of being able to spill it all and –

Duo cried when he came. Not tears – not like that, not this time – but this gasp, this whimper that he muffled in Heero's flesh and his fingernails dug into Heero's back and he rocked against Heero's hips in this desperate way that drove Heero crazy. He held him close as he came, nose buried in his hair, feeling every inch of his skin against his – so easy, so natural, like there was nothing between them, no time at all. Like they had never left.

For a minute they lay like that, breathing hard, relishing in post-coital bliss. But then Duo rolled away, grin on his face as he looked over at Heero, reaching beneath the sheets for his fingers and twining them together. The fire flickered across his face as the light outside grew dim. His hair was sweaty, bangs plastered to his face, stray hair stuck to his neck and Heero thought he was gorgeous. He'd always thought he was gorgeous, though.

Duo leaned in, pressed his face to the side of Heero's, that unmistakable grin against his cheek.

"I told you I'd warm you up," he whispered – and between the words Heero heard I love you.