Author's note:

Thanks for the support y'all! Means the world :D

"Dirty Job" chapter 18 will upload this weekend :)

The Princess With The Purple Heart

Ten

Whenever Heero looks at him, Duo remembers that night and the way those blue eyes turned to dark storm clouds as he became overwhelmed with pleasure. The memory gets Duo aroused in the most inconvenient moments, but, luckily, the fatigues are forgiving.

He calls his girlfriend more often, as if he is trying to remind himself of another reality that he is starting to lose track of without ever missing it. But his conversations with Hilde bore him. He holds the phone to his hear and lets her whisper sweet nothings to him as he stares across the bank of computer. At the other side, Heero is thoughtlessly scrolling through his emails, while laughing at something his hometown friend is saying to him over the phone. He closes his email account and twists the desk chair he is seated in left and right, back and forth. His eyes are distant. He speaks very little into the receiver, instead he enjoys hearing his friend's voice and getting caught up on the mundane details of the daily grind on the other side of the world.

Every soldier knows they are only being told half-truths by the home front. If anything bad has happened, their family and friends won't volunteer any information, because they don't want them to worry; they don't want them to be distracted. After every tour, Duo has come home to find that people have been laid off, gotten divorced and passed away. Every time he insists to his mother that she shouldn't keep the sad news from him, but secretly, he doesn't mean this and she knows. It's the same for Heero. He assures his friends and family that he can handle it, but honestly, none of them want to hear about the misery that happens at home, because it only makes them feel hopeless and guilty for not being there in a time when they are needed.

Duo wraps up his conversation with Hilde and then makes a quick call to his mother, since he has some time left on the clock. Her voice fades away when his gaze meets Heero's across the room. The Corporal gets up and leaves the tent. They have the rest of the evening off and he is probably heading for their barrack. The eye-contact is intense. It's never not, not anymore.

Duo raises his hand in a half-hearted wave and mouths "later" before forcing himself to focus on the story his mother is telling him about someone she ran into at the mall. It's a boring story, but he likes boring; it's a welcome break. However, when the story drags on, he starts to get antsy. He'd much rather end the conversation and go hang out with Heero. Whatever that may lead to.

He plucks at the folds in his trousers and traces the shapes in the camouflage pattern with his index finger, responding with nothing more than an occasional "Hm".

"Are you tired, darling?" She asks after concluding the account of her adventures.

"Hm? Uh- no. Well, yeah, I guess."

She chuckles at his jumbled answer.

He is not tired, his mind is just elsewhere.

"It's only around eight over there, isn't it? Do you still have to go out on patrol or do you have the night off?"

"We have the night off."

"Then I suggest you head to bed early, sweetheart."

That sounds like a good idea, he concurs, although he doesn't intend on going to sleep right away.

"I'm counting down the days until I can hold my son in my arms again."

He shakes his head, but smiles. "Mom…"

"I still think it's not right that they denied you your leave."

He makes a face at being reminded that he lied to his mother about why he wouldn't be home for leave for two weeks. He knew he couldn't tell her the truth – that he didn't want to come home – because she wouldn't understand and she would be offended and hurt. He didn't want to do that to her. A little white lie seemed best. So he told her that he was denied leave as a disciplinary action; that he had gotten caught with some of the booze Follander had smuggled onto base. She had been very angry at him, but it was better than making her sad.

"Only a few more months mom," he tells her. "It's the home-stretch."

"I know. But stay alert. Stay safe."

"I'll try, mom."

"And stay out of trouble."

He grins. "I'll try."

They say a long goodbye and then Duo disconnects the line, just as one of the techs starts to wave at him to signal that his time is up. He hands the satellite phone over to the soldier waiting to take his place and he struts out of the tent and makes a beeline for the barracks, curious if he's ever going to be able to convince Heero to fool around with him before lights-out.

He pops the door open with his shoulder and he finds Heero lying on his own cot, on top of the sheets. He's reading his French book with a look of concentration that seems overacted. His legs are casually crossed at the ankle, but his body is rigid with tension. "Hey, Purple Heart."

"Princess," he acknowledges without peeling his gaze away from the pages.

It's a game and Duo definitely wants to play. He forces the door shut behind him and toes off his boots. "Whatcha readin'?"

Heero flits his gaze up at him with a quirk of his eyebrow. The title on the cover of the book is bold and obvious.

CONVERSATIONAL FRENCH.

"Humpty Dumpty," the Japanese-American deadpans.

"Read it to me?"

"It's too scary for you."

Duo smirks. He likes their banter. It has never changed, they've always shared a snappy, biting sense of humor, but the vibe between them was different somehow. Every exchange was electrified. It was like they were daring each other to eventually say something raunchy and too-true.

In two steps he is at Heero's bedside and he snatches the book out of Heero's hands. If Heero hadn't wanted Duo to steal the book from him, he wouldn't have been able to, but Duo still jabs: "So much for those reflexes." Rather than walking to his own cot, he sits down on the edge of Heero's, even though there is barely any space. He makes a show of licking his finger and theatrically leafing through the pages with a haughty expression.

Heero waits.

Duo is hyperaware of the warmth that radiates from the body that lies prone next to him. Heero has his hands folded on top of his abdomen and one thumb idly strokes up and down. Duo directs his eyes back to the text in the book, and pretends to read aloud: "Hm. Voulez vous coucher avec moi…" He glances sideways and watches Heero's expression break into a silly smile.

"It doesn't say that!"

Duo snaps the book shut. "Well, it should! It's the only 'conversational French' anybody has any need for." He tosses the book clear across the room.

His disrespect for the item genuinely upsets Heero. "Hey!" He raises himself up in a seated position, but the angry, pinched look to his eyebrows melts away when they both realize how close they are to each other. Heero's gaze drifts down to Duo's lips and he swallows.

Duo isn't sure if the other is going to try to move away, to reestablish some distance between them, but he doesn't wait to find out. He brings an arm around him and takes a hold of the back of his neck. It's not gentle; it's desperate and needy. He feels Heero's tension and his racing pulse. "Sorry," he whispers, referring to how he mistreated Heero's property, although it is obvious the man no longer cares about the book.

"… Make it up to me." He doesn't look nearly as suave as the smooth comeback implies.

Duo lurches forward and slams their mouths together. The kiss is a lot of teeth and tongue and doesn't resemble their previous two lip-locks in any way. For all its imprecision and aggression, it is arousing nonetheless. It's rough in the way Duo had always expected a kiss with another man to be like. It's as chaotic as Duo feels.

In between the kiss they both gasp for air but neither wants to part. Heero first has his fingers twisted into the front of Duo's shirt, but then he drops his hand down onto Duo's thigh and clutches at a handful of his trousers. Realizing that Heero is not going to move that hand up to where he needs it to be, Duo reaches into his lap himself and fondles the hard bulge. He groans into Heero's mouth.

When he is done ravaging the other with his kiss, he pulls back and admires his handiwork. Heero's hair is a mess, falling forward into his face. His cheeks are flushed a bright red. His eyes are dimmed by clouds. His lips are red, swollen and wet. Duo decides it's a good look on him. He imagines he doesn't look much different himself. He's not done yet though, he wants to unravel the perfect soldier further. With a hand against Heero's chest he pushes him back down and instructs him to make room for him on the narrow cot. They barely fit into the bed together, lying on their sides, facing each other, separated by only an inch of space.

Duo holds Heero's gaze and fumbles to push his trousers and underwear down just far enough to expose himself. He can tell Heero is struggling to not steal a glance. Duo smirks at him, but Heero doesn't seem to think it's funny and he kisses that smirk away. During the kiss, Heero shifts too; unzipping his trousers and taking himself out of his underwear.

The closeness, the heated kisses, the daylight – albeit fading – is all new to them, but it doesn't deter them.

Duo takes himself in his hand and strokes himself. Sometimes, his knuckles brush against Heero's as the other man is also working his fist up and down his length. The kiss becomes distracted, but Duo doesn't want to pull away and neither does Heero. The movement of their lips is halfhearted and uncoordinated. At times, they are not even moving at all, just keeping their lips pressed together and panting against the other's mouth.

Duo worms his other hand out from under himself and brings it down between them. Rather than touch himself, he teases the head of Heero's erection with a delicate touch of his thumb and forefinger. Heero lets out a pitiful whine and bucks his hips, causing their arousals to meet. "Holy shit," Duo grounds out and he breaks the kiss for the first time to look down. The head of Heero's cock is pressed up against his and it feels dangerously good. He doesn't think – he acts on instinct and wraps his fingers around both of their erections as much as he can and he rocks his pelvis so their shafts rub together.

"…Oh, God." Heero's breath comes out trembling.

Duo captures his mouth in another kiss and they both rut into Duo's hand. It's a search to find the right rhythm to match the other, but they succeed.

"This is amazing," Duo breathes against the soft lips of his friend.

"Nnnn…"

"Am I crazy? Doesn't this feel amazing?" He thinks back to the end of his last tour and having sex with Hilde on the night of his return. He remembers it as the best sex he's ever had – as the greatest high – and he ascribes that to it having been the end of the longest dry-spell of his life. He doesn't remember it being nearly as good as what he is feeling right now; how Heero is making him feel. Maybe everything is distorted, because that was the past and this is the present and he is unfairly comparing the two, but it is amazing.

"Shut up," Heero orders and licks into Duo's mouth to silence him more effectively.

Duo comes shortly after, with a grunt. He spills his come onto his own hand and spreads it down their lengths. It's filthy but it adds to his rush and as he strokes himself through the aftermath, Heero climaxes as well, biting on Duo's bottom lip a little harder than is pleasant. When his lip is released, Duo smooths over the sore skin with his tongue. He opens his eyes to see Heero has his eyes squeezed shut tightly. His hips are still stuttering as he rides out the wave of his orgasm and Duo releases his own cock, which has become too sensitive to keep touching, so he can continue to stroke Heero until he is completely spent.

Heero opens his eyes again and his expression is nothing but calm as he stares back at Duo.

The taller man brings his hand up, wanting to brush a lock of chocolate brown hair away from Heero's forehead, but Heero takes one look at his hand and recoils.

"Get that away from me!"

He is confused for only a split second and then he realizes the mess they had made of his hand. Come is dripping off his fingers and settling in the lines of his palm. He lets out a hearty laugh and wipes it on his outer thigh, knowing his trousers are due for a wash anyway. "Sorry 'bout that." He grins at him.

Heero rolls onto his back, nearly falling into the gap between the cot and the wall. He braces his heels on the bed and raises his hips to put his underwear and pants back on. Duo follows suit.

Normally, they would just go to sleep afterward, but it is still too early for that. They lay next to each other, sandwiched together, and gaze up at the ceiling. Outside, they can hear a group of guys playing football; scuffling in the dirt, shouting expletives and complaining to a ref that isn't even there.

"Wanna join the game?" Duo absentmindedly inquires.

"…Nah."

He is relieved. He doesn't want to play either. He is not tired, but he is so damn relaxed and at ease and he wants to stay right where he is, when that shouldn't make any sense, given that the cot is definitely too small for the two of them to comfortably fit together. After a few minutes have gone by, he becomes aware of the throbbing pain in his bottom lip and he touches his finger to it. It hurts more when he applies pressure. "You bit me," he states dumbly. It's not exactly a complaint.

"Sorry."

Noting his friend doesn't sound very apologetic at all, he whimpers for effect: "It really hurts." He laughs when Heero smacks his chest.

"Don't be such a fucking baby."

"Don't marginalize," he mock-chastises, "I'm seriously wounded over here!" The bite is probably going to cause a discoloration that he will have to explain away to the other guys come morning.

"You're not getting a Purple Heart for a love-bite, Princess, so quit your whining."

Love-bite? It is, indeed, a love-bite, he just hadn't thought of it in that way yet. He cocks his head to the side and sees that his friend has his eyes closed and looks very peaceful. His chest rises and falls with slow, even breaths. His hands are resting on his hips, fingers slightly curled. Duo focuses on his face; the valleys, slopes and rises of his profile. He likes looking at him.

"How you doin' over there?" Duo wonders after a few minutes. "Are you sleeping?"

Heero's eyebrows pinch together. He hadn't been asleep, but he had been pretty close. "Hmm… Just relaxing."

Duo turns sideways again, causing the cot to shake and Heero's mouth to tighten in dismay. He props his head up in his hand and continues with a childish tone: "Whatcha thinking about?"

"I was thinking about how nice it was that you finally kept your trap shut," Heero deadpans, keeping his eyes closed as he tries to go back to that peaceful, relaxed state.

"You want me to be quiet?"

"Hmm."

"Make me," he teases suggestively.

Heero cracks his eyes open. Slivers of piercing blue peer at him. "I will kill you."

Duo chuckles. "Nah, I ain't worried. You wouldn't. You'd miss me too much."

"If you don't shut up, I will kill you." As an afterthought he adds: "I'd cry at your funeral though."

Duo laughs at the dry joke. He is put at ease knowing everything is still cool between them. There is little in life that Duo cherishes more than his friendship with Heero and he wouldn't want to ruin that – not even in exchange for a mind-blowing orgasm. It is nice that he doesn't have to choose.

He settles back down, resting his head on the pillow, closely to Heero. His chin touches the other man's shoulder. He first keeps his arm draped down his own side but he shifts to make himself more comfortable and lays his arm across Heero's midriff, without being met with protest. Heero turns his face towards Duo ever so slightly, but never opens his eyes. Duo whispers: "I'll shut up. I promise". It makes a smile appear on Heero's kissable lips.

#Foreshadowing ?