The Vampire Heero
Part One
By Lady AngelFiren
I awoke to the quiet rustling of curtains. Pale moonlight spilled in through the large window which was wide open despite the chill night. Without moving or even breathing heavily, I watched my roommate, co-pilot, and best friend as he climbed effortlessly onto the thick wooden windowsill and sat cross-legged, staring into the crisp night.
As always, his short brown hair was tossed in every direction, but it had taken on an aura of pale blue moonlight that changed the scene to that of a make-believe faeryland. He wore only a pair of plain white boxer shorts, leaving most of his beautifully chiseled body open for me to see; strong arms, rock hard stomach, his back was perfect, the bumps of his spine just barely visible. Thick muscle covered every part of him, but he appeared thin and delicate. It was a confusing balance. How one body could be so strong and hard, while remaining visibly gentle, fine, and even feminine. His skin, at times, had been torn right open, or he would receive a deep wound and I would always think he'd end up with a scar sooner or later, but it never happened. Day in, day out, he remained eternally smooth, virtually flawless, like a great milky stretch of sky, untouched by any cloud. I love his skin. I didn't often touch him, but when I did I was amazed at the satiny quality of him, always pristine and clean, never greasy or sweaty, despite the long hours into the night he would spend, working on his gundam. I don't understand the way we would endure long, hard battles, and when I was near fainting from exhaustion and falling out of my mobile suit, he simply hops to the ground, not so much as breaking a sweat. No, I'm not jealous
What was he doing? Just sitting on the window, not moving, staring at the moon. Why?
/Maybe he's an insomniac or something,/ I thought to myself, staring quietly after him. I just didn't get it. Heero Yuy was a complete mystery to me, and I couldn't get him out of my mind.
/Maybe my dreams would be kinder./ I didn't think he was planning on moving for awhile, so I closed my eyes and went to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
I am not a morning person, and that does not even _begin_ to cover it. I woke up with my face pushed into my pillow, uncomfortably hot sunlight pouring over me. I was lying twisted harshly in my sheets, drenched with sweat, and sporting a nice morning erection to boot. I'd slept absolutely miserably, plagued by dreams that I don't think any sixteen year old boy should have. Ever.
I pulled myself up, hating the morning and the overly cheerful songbirds that just would not shut up. I knew I'd be a happy chappy after I woke all the way up, but for now, it was time to wallow in self pity and detest the world in general. Mornings do that to me.
/Stupid school, stupid homework, stupid getting up at the crack of dawn, stupid homework. God my life sucks! And those are the "normal" things! We can't forget the whole "secret identity" thing, with the giant destructo-bots and the fact that I'm _supposed_ to be worrying about things like girls, not things like saving the world. Oh, and of course I'll be harassed by half the school if I'm hungry enough to go to the Caf today (or any day) and I am very hungry. Wee. Life is great./
I was always being picked on, fondled and beat up by a bunch of guys ten times my size. Its not as if I couldn't defend myself; I mean I was a specially trained terrorist for Chrissakes! I could have every one of them in the hospital, but it'd blow my cover, and it was too important that I not draw any attention to myself. Besides, if I got found out, Heero would can my sorry ass, and he was the very last being on the planet I would ever want to fight. I'd be dead before I could blink at him, and he'd be far, far away on some mission or something. No, fighting Heero is not exactly on my list of "Things I Need to do Today."
I stepped into the shower after carefully unwinding my braid. I was very protective of my hair, and nobody touched it unless I let them, which basically meant that nobody touched my hair. It reached just past my butt, and was honey-streaked chestnut brown, very lustrous and thick. If Heero wanted to touch it, maybe comb it out, I guess I would let him, but no one else. I wouldn't have much of a choice, considering that if he wanted anything from me I'd probably just melt into a happy little puddle on the floor. Yeah, that's me, Duo Maxwell, terrorist, pilot, escape artist, and hopelessly in love with my _male_ co-pilot. That'd look great on any application form or resume. But still, if only he'dnaw, it'd never happen. But what if it did?
I quickly found myself thinking about things that were _so_ not shower related, like Heero, unraveling my hair and running his fingers through it. I could almost feel his tough, however soft hands trailing down my back and tracing patterns on my skin. Hands that were probably strong enough to bend steel, gently kneading and rubbing my shoulders
I sank down in the shower, running my own hands over my torso and pinching sensitive nipples. I grasped my rapidly hardening shaft in one eager palm and pumped slowly, sensuously along its length, feeling my whole body respond with a shiver that ran from between my legs, throughout my form, and then returned whence it'd come, increasing my pleasure threefold. The sensations raced through me in great ripples, pulsing outward from my groin, as I stroked myself harder and faster, now pulling roughly on my stiff erection. The friction was enormously satisfying, and I began to moan under my own ministrations, drawing near to the cliff of passion every time my hand passed over the head of my manhood.
I had to struggle to stay quiet, and the endeavor that this became only fed the heat that was now circling freely through my body. Water from the shower further impassioned me as it slid down my back, through my hair, and rained upon my face and chest. I stopped stroking myself, sliding my hand lower to grasp and massage my balls. A thin whimper escaped my throat as I pictured Heero doing this same thing to me while kissing wet trails all over my skin. /God, Heero!/ I thought, water swiftly rushing down my chest and over my toned stomach to create a maddening waterfall between my legs, where the liquid's tiny frictions excited me, igniting fire anywhere it touched.
I resumed pumping myself. I was thrusting into my hand more so than the hand was acting, my body twitching forward involuntarily. My breathing was heavy, rough now, and I couldn't see straight anymore. The drumming of rasped breaths pushed me ever closer to the brink of madness, like a skydiver just before jumping, or a bungee jumper on a bridge. I thumbed the slit in the tip of my erection, which was already dripping pre-cum, and toppled over the edge of pleasure, Heero's smooth face and impossibly deep blue eyes dancing in my vision. I climaxed into my hand and onto the tile wall of the shower stall.
I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath, as I was panting heavily. The sticky substance slid slowly down the polished tile and into the drain as I got weakly to my feet, knees wobbling a little, and proceeded to scrub myself clean, washing the long chestnut hair I'd spent most of my life growing out with extra care and attention.
Finished and somewhat relieved, I turned off the water and vigorously toweled myself off, pulling the fluffy blue material across my back, legs, arms and chest and eventually securing the tangled mass of dripping locks on top of my head. A second blue towel served as a makeshift skirt, and I left the steamy confines of the tiny bathroom to dress and face the world.
~~~~~~~~~~
The Caf. God I hated it. You'd think a guy as social as me would have enjoyed the throngs of people who were talking and laughing over trays of bearable food, and just generally having a good time. Nuh unh, no way. I would have, maybe, except the people here were just so, I don't know, so barbaric.
I walked through the entryway. The door was held open by a huge burly guy with shaggy, dirty black hair and sallow skin, who winked at me and grabbed my ass when I passed him. My eyes grew dark, and I literally growled at him, making no move, however, to physically defend myself. Couldn't do that, couldn't draw attention.
"Fuck off Karl," I sneered, and continued walking briskly between the rows long tables stuffed with people. Maybe he'd give me a break today and let me go. I was rapidly approaching the point where I would actually defend myself. I can take a lot of bullshit, but there's only so far I'll go before something snaps me into action. Unfortunately, I couldn't really hurt him, but I might bust his face up a little, just so he'll leave me alone. I told myself that if he touched me today I'd hurt him. That was, of course, if I could. Often he wouldn't leave anything open, and I wouldn't be able to escape without seriously injuring him.
/Oh well, a few bruises and hurt feelings aren't gonna do anything./
"Hey Maxwell, is that any way to talk to me? Now I think I'll have to punish
you. Or maybe I'll just fuck you. Little slut, you'd like that, wouldn't you.
Be a good fuck toy, come on."
Karl grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me into his massive arms. Nobody in the huge, crowded room seemed to even notice as I was roughly shoved against a wall. He grabbed my crotch in one gorilla hand and kneaded my balls painfully. Now he had me, I wouldn't be escaping him so easily (or at all) today. When I squirmed and tried to pry myself free of him, his grin widened, showing rows of perfectly straight, however very yellow teeth, and he kneaded harder. I whimpered dejectedly, but quickly bit back and further sounds and vowed my refusal to accept his actions. He began to unbutton my shirt with one hand in a skillful manner that indicated how much practice he'd had with this sort of thing, and I felt a shiver pass through me. Any movement I made that he did not like (and there was no way of telling what he didn't like) was rewarded with a painful, stomach-turning clench, and soon my head swam dizzily with the unpredictable pain.
It was even more sickening and degrading however, because my body, ignoring my mind's screams of displeasure, started to respond to the attentions. My nipples hardened into erect little nubs of flesh, and I grew stiff, sweating profusely. Karl undid my pants with an ecstatic look on his face, and forced his hand inside to stroke me through the thin fabric of my boxers.
"Karl, stop it." I refused to beg. I wouldn't, because I knew that
was what he wanted to hear, but also because my pride wouldn't let me. I always
did have too much pride.
"Shut up, slut. For that I'll leave you like this, and finish you later,
and you won't like it, I can promise that."
He kissed me, forcing his tongue deep into my mouth. His breath was sour and wretched, like the smell of stuffed olives, eggs, and mold all together in one horrible odor/taste. I could understand why his teeth were yellow. He'd probably never brushed them, not once. The thought of him eating rotted earth and bugs filled me; it was absolutely disgusting and I shuddered, trying to push him off of me. I received a strong, very painful pull on my length, but the sound my throat made was swallowed by his suffocating kiss. I could feel bile rising in my throat, but Karl broke off before I actually heaved in his mouth. Good thing, I wonder what he would have done to me if I had. Karl looked at me, eyes sparkling excitedly. My face was twisted in a sick, repulsed grimace. He drew back and punched me in the stomach. Hard. Then he was gone.
I sank down the wall breathless, my shirt and pants wide open so that anyone who cared to look could see the effect his ministrations had had on my body, despite my refusal. Nobody looked, no one offered to help me, and quite obviously, no one cared in the least. So what if one teenager gets sexually assaulted in broad daylight? Gotta go, sorry. Maybe I'll care when I've got time.
I buttoned up my shirt and pants, quickly leaving the Caf. Every time this
happened, I felt a little more used, a little more worthless.
/Maybe I am just a little slut. Maybe I secretly like what he does to me. Is
that it? Am I so sick, perverted and masochistic that I actually like it when
he touches me, hits me, and tells me I'm his slut?
Maybe I am.
But I don't want that! God, this is so confusing. I know he's scum, like so many of the other people around here, so why do I take it? And why am I even here, wasting my life and my efforts on these people? I bet a lot of the Oz soldiers I've so mercilessly destroyed were braver, and more worthy of their lives than any of the people here who live free to painfully destroy other people./
Yeah, its confusing. I can deal with it though, I just try not to think about it, and it doesn't go away, but its better.
~~~~~~~~~~
I returned to my room, finding it dark. The heavy blinds and drapes were pulled
tightly shut over the windows, blocking out any beautiful sunlight that would
have entered.
/Musta been Heero,/ I reflected as I pulled them open. We were lucky, because
our room was on the corner of the building, so we got two windows. I pulled
the thick cloth back from the window that was right over Heero's bed, allowing
warm sunlight to spill inward, illuminating everything in a soft, golden light.
The normally neat blankets on my Japanese co-pilot's bed were crumpled and messy.
/That's strange,/ I wondered, when I realized that Heero was still _in_ the bed. He usually got up before me, although his first class wasn't until well after my day had started, about two hours after. He had fewer classes than me, because he'd already finished as many of them as he could in the other schools we were at. I'd rather have some free time. I guess he's never heard of that whole "relaxing" thing, which is why I was stunned to see him still in bed.
/Is he sick?/ that guy wouldn't let a cold stop him, Hell, he wouldn't let _Death_ stop him! Utterly relentless./Hmmmm/
"Hey Heero, are you still in bed?" I asked in a jovial tone as I began to pull the blankets off of him. He didn't move, obviously he was in deep slumber. He just lay there on his stomach."Get your tired ass outta bed dude." I poked him in the back of the head.
Instant reaction. He whipped around faster than I could react and grabbed my throat in a fierce grip. He pushed me down onto the bed and pulled a Baretta from under his pillow, which he put to my left eye.
My neck hurt and I couldn't breathe, but I just lay there, allowing a smile to spread over my face. This happened all the time, so I waited patiently for Heero to recognize me. He squinted at me, and the strangest thing happened. His eyes looked like they were mirrors for a fleeting second, and then it was gone, but I was kind of set off. He closed them and the shiny, silvery look was gone, he swallowed, then he released me.
My hands went immediately to my sore, injured throat and I coughed for awhile
before I could speak."Thanks there, Heero. I get you out of bed, and you
choke me. You are so friendly. Anyway, I'm hungry. Wanna come to the Caf with
me? I hate it there, so I figured I'd drag you along for the ride. Please!?
There's food and everything!" I smiled hopefully.
"Fine." He said tersely and pulled on a pair of faded jeans and a
green tank top.
We left.
