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Unfathomable KIss

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Day 8. 1400 hours.

Control still hadn't contacted with any alteration. Regrettably, they were delayed here until further notice. The actual mission turned out to be a milk run, nothing but a cargo of ammunition. No microfilm. No diamonds. No Pussy Galore.

All they had was a box of bullets and a disgusted, sweaty, unfriendly sentry.

"Why they fuckin gotta send li'l shits to deliver such high class stuff, anyway? J got one head up his ass."

The unhappy recipient of the high tech shells complained.

Hiro had just handed the goods over and left but Duo took the liberty of at least relieving the pistol from the guy's holster as reparation. He could do to be more respectful to kids who delivered the goddam firepower that would save his ass once OZ landed. Trouble was, no one knew exactly when that would be.

So they were stranded.

 

A box of frozen, sugared-down glucose sat in the near-empty fridge. He'd bought them to replace the defunct air conditioning. Duo's lips and fingertips were stained a careless light pink. He lay on his makeshift bed reading his sticky pink magazine, chewing on his sticky pink wooden popsicle stick. The region's climate was at best disagreeable. Even the long braid at his back had become bothersome, impossible to ignore. He pushed it away as if it were a mink stole in a sauna. The only time he regretted or even noticed his hair was in heat like this.

"Brazil sucks!" The well chewed pith of the popsicle stick was flung across the small room. He got up to get another ice pop and spoke, simply for the sake of speaking.

"Hey Hiro, want one?"

Naturally, Hiro did not. Duo took a grape one, flopped back into his nest and sucked more time way.

 

 

Hiro, without warning, snapped his computer shut and slumped next to his gear.

He removed a package of concentrated protein saturated with vitamins A through Z and ate exactly half of it silently. 6 oz. All that was required to sustain a human body for the next 24 hours. He opened his canteen and drank until it was empty. 18 oz. Exactly the amount needed to prevent dehydration.

Duo sighed. Dry card board protein crap and warm tepid water was becoming worse than hunger. Hiro didn’t seem to mind though. Or worse, he didn’t seem to notice. It was nothing but work, fuel, rest without deviation.

He knew some people who liked to keep things on course but with Hiro, this was masochistic. He was only human when he slept. Everyone had to lie still, they all had to breathe. Hiro collapsed on the floor right next the soft nest Duo had created with blankets and some ripped sofa cushions.

"You can have my bed." Duo offered, always slightly disturbed at the imagined discomfort Hiro always seem to choose in stride. Getting no response, Duo saw that Hiro’s mouth had fallen ever so slightly open. It was the only way he could tell that the stoic pilot, had already drifted off to sleep. Duo sighed again and slumped against the wall.

The shift was all his.

He'd read every outdated issue of Newsweek, National Geographic and Cosmo cover to cover. It was painful not to log on the small laptop for an even remotely possible update. It as always turned into a disappointing waste of battery.

Pressing against the cooler was all he could do to cut the thick, humid heat. God damn, if he could just be anywhere else. Sunlight leaked through the small cracks in the boards that had been haphazardly nailed over the broken windows long ago. Hiro had not moved once and he wondered idly when he would again. There seemed nothing weary about him, lying there motionless he could have been unconscious or even dead. And he knew the difference. More than one thing about Hiro's deceptively frail body disturbed him. It hardly seemed the frame that could take a bullet's impact as easily as a punch, or operate without hiatus for days, not hours. He was thin and harsh as barbed wire, skin drawn tight over a ridiculously elaborate network of muscles which belied the still youthful quality to his face. The fact was, he looked kind of nice even if he was alien.

Duo perked at the small sound he heard Hiro make in his sleep. A sharp intake of breath.

"Hm." Duo chewed at his lip and slid closer as quietly as he could manage, knowing Hiro’s habit of waking upon the slightest, most innocent of sounds. But Hiro had been up for days and his body had done automatically what it had needed to do when Hiro had not.

Crashed.

His body was also doing other things Hiro probably didn’t approve of. Duo’s eyes lingered on the hard definition of an erection pressed against the confines of Hiro's black shorts and along his tensed thigh.

In the small moment Duo had watched Hiro’s body stretched out for the first time, in an unwittingly vulnerable state, he was already moving towards the prone pilot. It had never been a secret, private joke or even a denial. Duo had always cultivated the thought and even the fantasy of such a moment. And moments passed more quickly than it was comfortable to dwell on. How many more, if any, would he get?

Duo ran his tongue along his dry lips and reached out. Considering the odds over and over again helped as he carefully fingered the waist of the shorts before sliding the black spandex down, his heart beating fast enough to make him dizzy. He had them down to Hiro’s hips when he realized that Hiro didn’t wear any underwear. Without any hesitation Duo pulled them down to his smooth hard thighs expecting Hiro to wake at any moment. But amazingly the exhausted pilot was still slumbering.

His skin smelled slightly metallic. Faintly like the sharp tang of his Gundam after it had been worked hard and long, of acrid oil and a fading electric charge. It was as if the residue of gunpowder had settled into his skin, and Duo thought fleetingly of how Hiro always pushed his gun into the front of his shorts. He imagined the hard length of metal pressed on hot flesh the way his own hand was now. He imagined a smoking firearm unyielding and spent, burning against the flesh of Hiro’s lower belly and the soft smooth skin of his hip. Duo thought about how the sharp steel edges must press into Hiro’s skin as he moved, as he escaped death while he brought it to others.

His lips touched the very tip of Hiro’s sex tentatively, looking up anxiously at the still face before opening his mouth and letting the hot swollen tip slide into his even hotter mouth.

All at once, Duo felt the sturdy pressure point to his head before he even saw Hiro move. When he looked up, Hiro was risen onto his elbow, his pistol pressed to Duo’s forehead. Hiro’s breathing was freakishly erratic, his wide-eyed gaze flickering from Duo’s eyes to his warm mouth between his thighs.

With a hard snap, Duo's fist connected with Hiro’s wrist and the gun skittered with a loud whirring across the floor, striking the wall. Duo’s other hand came urgent and unkindly to Hiro’s chest, shoving him back onto the floor. The exhausted, disoriented pilot collapsed with an angry hiss.

Let me, just let me. Duo heard himself think the frantic words, almost on his lips, useless pleas that could shatter the fleeting seconds that Hiro lay confused and angry. Before he could ruin everything by saying any of it out loud, Duo used his mouth to take Hiro’s sex in and down, hot and swollen with some dream Hiro’s body had conjured for release, or perhaps just simple biology that not even Hiro could escape.

Hiro gradually rose again and was watching his mouth move over his sex, with a curious hard sort of detachment. It was almost cold enough to make Duo stop. But then it shifted sharply to something like pain. Hiro’s eyes narrowed and a muscle in his jaw worked.

Duo heard himself make a small noise at his motions became faster and more urgent, his mouth and hands desperate to reach at climax that Hiro’s body was flowing towards, he didn’t want to stop or be stopped, he had to finish. Hiro’s knees raised off the floor and he pushed his hips up in a small motion of confounded surrender. Duo squeezed his eyes shut, it was from pleasure, he knew it.

The body stiffened underneath Duo, and tensed with a violent shudder. Duo felt the hot flash of liquid release flood his mouth and he sat back for a moment as he swallowed it.

Hiro was staring up at him in what may have been panic. His hands quickly went between his legs to examine himself like he would check a wound. The moisture that had escaped Duo’s mouth, Hiro now wiped from his thigh and stared at, blinking once. He didn't say a word.

Duo felt suddenly and inexplicably more tired than he had ever in his life. He crawled, panting, to his bed nest and lay on his side, willing away the heat that throbbed against his stomach with no hope of success. Moments later, he felt a hard poke in the back.

"What?" Duo asked softly.

"Oshiete." Explain. Hiro's voice rasped from above him.

"You just came, I’m tired so good night." Duo shut his eyes, knowing Hiro was sitting not two feet from him, his shorts still around his thighs, his breathing still not steady, his mouth working. Duo still had the taste of him strong in his mouth. Yep, he was going to drop right off to sleep, no problem. Duo groaned.

There was another hard poke.

"Yes??" Duo scowled through an infuriating pause.

"I what?"

Shoving a water stained pillow over his head, Duo left it at that.

 

 

Three days went by and Duo exchanged even fewer words than usual with the stoic pilot. He wouldn't interfere with Hiro's program either. Duo spent his nights humming to the crumbling plaster of the walls and his days haunting the local gambling dens and steamy ill lit bars. The heat rose off the pavement and put everything in wavering slow motion. He walked the streets in a dream, he silently made his way through each daily scene like a ghost, noticed for a moment than gone, forgotten. He wanted to leave the sleepy lull, it made him half conscious and anxious.

He returned late as usual to the dilapidated dwelling they shared and found Hiro sleeping at the table near his open and running computer. It was working while he slept, complying data and comparing it to captured intelligence, it was re writing pass words and encrypting Hiro’s coded exchange with Dr J every hour into something new in case of enemy control. A soft breeze breathed through the slatted shut windows.

Duo sighed as he searched for some water.

It was hard not to do it. Not to stare at him, knowing he couldn’t give an angry glance back or maybe even just leave. In took him several moments to realize, that Hiro was awake and staring back. It was stupid to think he could have sneaked in, but most wishes were pretty stupid.

Hiro sat up slowly and glanced at his computer screen.

He let me do it once. Would he let me again?

Duo pushed the chair back and Hiro shifted his attention quickly and regarded him silently.

Duo knelt slowly, reaching out gingerly to touch Hiro’s knees. Hiro watched him with wary interest and he felt himself shudder inwardly. Duo let his hand stray down to the protected, sweaty heat at the back of the knee and saw Hiro’s expression harden.

Ok, fuck the foreplay. Duo grasped the elastic hem of the shorts at his waist and Hiro jerked back like he had been burned. "Do you want me to do it or not?" Duo managed to feel annoyed.

Hiro said nothing, his chest rising and falling visibly.

Duo tried again, encouraged when Hiro stayed still, taut and observant. He pulled the shorts down his tense thighs and paused to look. He had been too hurried, too overcome to take any of it in the last time. Under the clothes, Hiro wasn't bad. The skin was compact and scarred but smooth and warm. Duo pulled the shorts down past his knees and over the sneakers Hiro wore everyday.

Duo gently placed his hands on Hiro’s knees, waiting for a gun to flash or a fist to explode into his mouth but Hiro remained still, watching Duo intently.

Pushing Hiro’s knees back slowly, parting his thighs in the shadows of the room lit only by the flashing gaze of the computer, plunging them into the rapid transitions of darkness into the semi soft whites and neon greens of frantic information. Hiro’s hands clutched the wooden edges of his seat, his chest rising and falling as fast as Duo’s, as if he'd been running.

He moved between the spread legs and examined Hiro with his hands first, feeling the soft weight of it, the quickly firming hot flesh that lay on his thigh, and the flat tight stomach that lay under the green tank he still wore. Duo let his tongue follow where his hands had gone, taking his time and going slowly, knowing somewhere in the shadow of the desire that this may be the last time. Hiro wasn’t as silent as he had been the last time. He was making small pained sounds, hissing as if he were being wounded again and again.

He recoiled violently when Duo took the delicate heaviness of his balls into his mouth but the grip Duo had on Hiro’s shuddering thighs, held him firm. No Hiro. The silent pilot’s skin had turned moist under his hands.

Red hot and resistant, Duo swallowed Hiro whole, and Hiro’s head rolled to the side in a faint weak gesture of disbelief. Of all the pilot had seen and experienced, it made Duo smirk to think this was what reduced Hiro to shock. It was over almost at once.

Duo was quietly surprised it had even been that long.

With a quick hard yank, Hiro was on the floor with him, dazed and compliant. Duo’s mouth was on his chest and his neck despite the stunned efforts to push him away. His hands were pulling the lean thighs apart and up, his own hard sex pushed urgently against Hiro and finally Hiro came to life.

"Iya," he hissed and wrenched away.

Duo moaned in frustration. Quickly, before Hiro could come to his senses, Duo forced the apprehensive pilot’s face close, fists wrapped tight in the collar of his tank, the heat of his mouth so close to Duo’s own. He could almost feel the world turn inside out with the transition of only a few centimeters. He only had to do it.

Duo slowly released Hiro’s shirt, letting him fall back to the floor.

With that, Duo went to bed without a backwards glance.

 

The next morning came slow and humid, the sun's gold spotting the cool, grey left by the night. Duo had kicked his blankets away during the night but still managed to wake soaking in sweat. With a pained groan, he rolled onto his back. The computer was announcing with a series of loud beeps that the long awaited information that had kept them in this desolate place had arrived. Duo let out a small whimper. Shutting it up would require movement. He was reluctantly trying to rise when he felt a soft tug at his scalp. Hiro lay waking slowly near him, the end of the long braid clasped in one sleepy fist. He felt a corner of his mouth tug into a smile.

"Wake up, the coordinates are in."

Hiro sat up, dropping the braid without a glance and moving compliantly towards the computer. He silenced it with the appropriate code and began downloading their next mission.

"Anything good this time? Fiji? Rome? Martinique?"

Hiro did not turn around. His fingers flew over the keyboard with a feverish tapping.

"Ore Holland e iku."

"You going to Holland? Really? Watch out fer the dykes!" He laughed. "What about me?"

"Cairo e."

Duo sighed.

 

It was midday. Duo had packed what little he had. Hiro had nothing to pack. Duo was receiving the last of his instructions, he would have to catch a plane within the hour.

"Well it’s been great Hiro." Duo feigned normalcy considering he had no other choice. "I’m sure I’ll see you around or whatever."

Hiro turned suddenly in his chair.

"You want something?"

Hiro was on his feet faster than Duo had time to realize he had moved. He only had time to feel a strange, rough hand touch his wrist before the swift reality of Hiro's lips on his hit him. It was not a kiss, this light, intimate touching. It was an anomaly, quick and urgent. A motion from someone who had no idea what a kiss even was. For the boy without words there were smiles for what was good, darkness for what was not, gestures for want and vague shots in the dark for everything else. Kisses were an extravagance.

Hiro snapped the computer shut and disappeared out the door.