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Wufei stands in the brightly lit bathroom, a paddle brush in one hand, an elastic hair tie in the other, and an utterly perplexed expression on his face.
“But why?” he is asking, unprepared as he is for Duo’s change of mind. “I thought you usually just stuck to the regular braid.”
“I do,” agrees Duo, blithely, “But today I just wanted something different. And since you’ve already offered to help any time I needed it… well…” He trails off, a self-satisfied smile on his face. “I need it.”
The only thing moving on Wufei’s body is his chest as he breathes in and out again. Why had he agreed to help Duo with his hair again? Because it’s so soft, whispers a little voice inside his head. And because you can’t turn down an opportunity to run your fingers through those thick strands, to watch him come undone as you brush along his scalp and all the way down, as you press your fingertips to his scalp, maybe even smooth out the stress from his neck… He realizes that Duo is looking at him, and that he is staring at Duo’s hair, and that Duo is bringing up one hand to cover his mouth, a titter escaping those insolent lips.
Wufei pulls himself together, straightens his back, and glares at Duo. “Fine. I’ll do your stupid hairstyle,” he snaps. “Turn around. Sit still.”
Duo swivels around on the tall stool, watching Wufei in the large bathroom mirror they put in when they had the bathroom remodeled last year, shortly after they moved in. He crouches, starting at the bottom of Duo’s long hair; it almost reaches the ground when he’s sitting like this. The brush runs smoothly through the light orangey-brown strands, of course, because Duo has already brushed most of the tangles out. Occasionally it snags on a hidden tangle, and then Wufei rocks the brush in a semi-circle as he brushes down, carefully smoothing out the knots.
Wufei switches to the boar-bristle brush. He knows which hair oil Duo likes to use most often and grabs it from the shelf, catching Duo’s little satisfied smile out of the corner of his eye, but refuses to acknowledge it. That’s not how they do this. He pours out a quarter-sized amount of the serum into his palm and flips the cap closed one-handed. He sets the bottle on the sink. Then he rubs his palms together, spreading the oil in a thin layer onto both hands, which he then pats lightly over Duo’s crown and plunges his fingers through the cascade of hair. He finger-combs Duo’s mane, rolling his palms over thick strands, spreading the serum around on Duo’s hair. Then he wipes his oily hands on a paper towel and picks up the boar bristle brush. Beginning at the top of Duo’s head, Wufei draws the brush smoothly down, working the oil evenly through his hair. He takes care with this part of the task, making sure he brushes through every inch of Duo’s incredible hair, sometimes slipping the fingers of his other hand through the hair to massage small circles into Duo’s scalp. He can hear Duo’s breath deepening; if he was a cat, he would be purring.
When this part is done, Wufei imagines spending a few minutes just running his hands over Duo’s head, petting him, finger-combing through his mane, pressing kisses to Duo’s crown. Duo would lean back into his hands, little noises and sighs making their way to his greedy ears. Finally, after a scant eternity, he stands straight again, gathers the hair into one thick tail, lets it fall free again.
Reaching into a small container, he pulls out a few more elastic hair ties and drops them on the counter surface next to the sink. He grabs the rat tail comb, the one with the thin pointed end that's designed to help create sectioned hair with straight parts, from the bin with the brushes and combs, and sets to work dividing Duo’s hair, first into two sections with a part down the middle, and then into four, by creating a horizontal part near the outside edge of Duo’s crown, creating two smaller sections toward the top of his head and two larger ones. He ties off three of the sections and begins working on the bottom left.
“Bend over,” Wufei says, flushing slightly because of the double entendre, and sure enough, though he obeys, Duo turns his head a little to look up at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Wufei scowls, because that’s what he does every time Duo gives him that look.
With Duo leaning over the bathroom vanity, his forehead resting on his crossed arms, Wufei can take the section of hair and begin braiding it upwards, starting with a small section at Duo’s nape and gradually adding sections of hair, like a Dutch braid only upside down. He reaches the place where the upper section of hair begins and ties off the braid.
Then he moves around to Duo’s other side and does the same with the left-hand bottom section, tying the upside-down Dutch braid close to Duo’s scalp where it meets the horizontal part.
“You can sit up now,” he tells Duo, and Duo does, twisting his head to try and see in the mirror what Wufei has accomplished so far.
“Stop that,” admonishes Wufei. “You’ll see it when I’m done.”
Duo makes a frustrated noise and rolls his eyes, but he stills and allows Wufei to position his head where he needs it. He pulls out his phone and scrolls idly through messages, social media, and a few news articles and blog posts as Wufei works.
Now it’s time for the top sections. Wufei tilts his head, considering. He could do a double braid, or work the two sections together, but Duo had been hinting about leaving some of his hair down next time, so Wufei takes the brush and brushes the hair smoothly into a ponytail on that side, high up and slightly toward the back of the head. He pulls the elastic off of the braid and, telling Duo to bend his head forward, he continues braiding the section of hair until it’s long enough that Duo can unbend his neck. Wufei finishes the braid and ties it off, leaving a loose tail of about four or five inches. Then he pulls the elastic on the top section out a small distance, maybe one inch at most, from Duo’s scalp and separates the hair, pulling it apart to allow him to thread the braid up and through. Finally he retightens the ponytail by pulling the loose hair in opposite directions. He combs his fingers through the top of the ponytail, smoothing out some errant strands and runs the brush through the loose hair of the ponytail, holding the braid out of the way so it doesn’t get snagged by the bristles. He examines the style critically.
“Hm,” he comments, enigmatically, and though Duo tries to get him to expound on his thoughts, he remains tight-lipped.
He must be satisfied, though, because he repeats the motions on the opposite side of Duo’s head. At last, he pulls two deep purply blue velvet scrunchies from another bin and wraps them around the smaller black elastic cloth bands that are holding Duo’s hair up. He rummages in the bin for a pair of matching blue hair clips, and uses them to contain a few fly-away hairs from around Duo’s ears.
He steps away, looking at Duo from both sides, up and down.
“It’ll do,” he says, grudgingly, and hands Duo the hand mirror. Duo turns around and uses the hand mirror to see what the larger bathroom mirror reflects: two high ponytails, with Dutch braids climbing the back of his head up to where the ponytails are fastened and then snaking underneath the hair ties to flow up and over the ponytail, hanging down his back with the rest of the loose hair. He loves it.
“Fei, it’s incredible! Oh my god, thank you!” Duo hops down from the stool and wraps Wufei in a tight hug, which Wufei returns, if stiffly. He has only been learning how to braid hair for a few months, and only because he heard Duo complaining about how the only good hair stylists cost an arm and a leg, and with the cheap ones, you get what you pay for. They've been living together for barely a year, but now that Duo knows Wufei has been learning how to do hair, he asks him more often for “favors,” and Wufei is helpless to refuse. He wishes he had the courage to ask for something in return, but he knows Heero will be returning soon from where he was studying in Japan, and he knows the two are close. Very close, if some of the pictures Duo has in his phone are indicative, and Wufei has no desire to be the person to make either of them unhappy. In fact, they're all good friends, which is why Duo and Wufei had bought a four-bedroom house, so that if Heero or Trowa ever decided they wanted to move back to Europe, they’d have a place to go. Quatre is welcome too, of course, but he’s pretty much settled into the family business, and has said as much, so it’s unlikely he would be making any permanent moves any time soon.
“It’s nothing, Maxwell,” he grumbles. “No big deal. Go have fun.” He commences cleaning up all the hair products and tools, which doesn’t actually take long, and accidentally shuts the cabinet a little too hard. It makes a loud bang! and they both jump.
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
Duo is picking up the stool to carry it back out to the kitchen island, but he pauses in the doorway, turns halfway to look back. “I’m not going out,” he says, suddenly.
Wufei’s head snaps up. “What? Why? Aren’t you supposed to meet your friends at that artsy fartsy club you like?”
Duo’s lips kind of slip sideways and up into a lopsided smile, like his mouth is migrating west. It's just too endearing and Wufei scowls to cover the expression his face wants to make.
“I wanna see you tell Dorothy that The Place is ‘artsy fartsy.’ To her face,” snickers Duo as he turns back out of the bathroom to replace the stool.
As he turns on the hot water and lathers up his hands, Wufei calls after him, “Only an artsy fartsy club would call itself ‘The Place,’ I swear to god. I mean, come on.”
Duo is grinning when he pops his head back around the door frame. “Well, anyway, I'm not going. I decided.” His entire body becomes visible in the doorway, and he leans casually against the frame.
Wufei rinses his hands and feels trapped. “So. Uh. What are you going to do then?”
“Stay here,” come the dreaded words. And even worse: “Hang out with you. Unless you've got a hot date with the latest biography you checked out from the library? Or is it that detailed analysis of The Effects of the Eve Wars on the Colony Clusters that I saw on your night stand the other day? Why do you even read that shit anyway?” Duo is grinning, same as he always does, but there's a weird glimmer in his eyes that Wufei has never seen before. It makes him uneasy. He dries his hands on the towel hanging from a hook that looks like a parrot with a boner (a Duo purchase, of course), and avoids looking at Duo.
A shiver runs through his body. Wufei isn't sure how much longer he'll be able to handle this situation he's gotten himself into, and he's seriously regretting purchasing property with Duo Maxwell, no matter how good of a deal they had found. They couldn't have rented? It would've been cheaper on the maintenance side of things, that's for sure. And he wouldn't be stuck here with Duo all dolled up and pretty. Pretty. What is wrong with him?
“Fine,” he says at last, picking at his cuticles. “I’ll make dinner in an hour. Got any ideas for what you wanna do after?”
Wufei has some ideas, but he wouldn’t speak them out loud, even under torture. Eventually, he looks up at Duo, who is still watching him with those eyes, and it sends a bolt of searing hot lightning down to his stomach. “What?” he asks, defensively.
Duo seems to switch back to his usual self then, and shrugs, saying, “I’m sure we’ll figure something out. I’d like to help with dinner, though. What are you making?”
Wufei narrows his eyes a little and his brows crinkle in a puzzled frown. “Since when do you cook, Maxwell?”
Duo makes a kind of dip with his knees and shrugs again, seeming weirdly shy all of a sudden. “I just thought… you did my hair, and you always cook, and I just… I wanna help. Is that okay?” The last three words get a burst of emphasis, a challenge.
“Fine,” agrees Wufei again, curtly, “I was going to make curry. You can peel the potatoes.”
The smile Duo gives him makes his knees weak, and he needs to get out of there.
“Excuse me,” he says, briskly, stepping towards the door.
Duo moves automatically out of his way, though he still has to brush against his shoulder as he passes. Wufei makes his way to his bedroom and closes the door deliberately and softly, then immediately flops face down on the bed.
When has this become such a major problem? He’s been intrigued by the long-haired pilot ever since the war, though they hadn’t really spent much time together during those years, and he’s actively held a candle for Duo since shortly after Duo moved to Brussels to join the Preventers. The way the man looks in uniform combined with his unflappable enthusiasm, his undeniable competency and his incomprehensible desire to be friends with Wufei, who is, without a doubt, the most sarcastic and bitchy agent on the force, had combined to draw Wufei’s well-protected heart out of its shell. But he has been able to keep it under control until now. What changed? He’s still not sure.
Wufei closes his eyes and rests his forehead on his arms, concentrating on his breathing. He thinks about what they’ll need for dinner that evening. Broccoli, potatoes, carrots, chicken. Curry sauce in the cabinet. Rice for the rice cooker. Just… don’t think about it. It’ll be fine.
Preparing dinner turns out to go much more smoothly than he had imagined. Duo, it seems, has had a bit more cooking practice than he had been aware of, or at the very least, food prep, and the potatoes are quickly peeled and cut up. They go into a pot of cold water to parcook while Wufei rinses the rice and sets up the rice cooker. Duo washes and chops the rest of the vegetables, with surprisingly little oversight needed from Wufei.
He finds himself with a little smile on his face as he watches Duo peel the carrots with the speed and efficiency of a machine while bouncing on his feet to a song in his head. As Duo looks to the side, Wufei spins around, horrified that Duo might have seen his face like that. He covers it by putting the wide pan with a dollop of vegetable oil on the stove and turning on the burner to get it heating up. He goes to the fridge and pulls the chicken thighs from the drawer, drains them into the sink and dumps them on the cutting board, cutting them into large chunks. They sizzle nicely as they hit the hot oil, and Wufei adds salt and pepper, then goes to wash out the sink from the chicken juice as the chicken sears. He breaks up the sauce block into pieces; they are doing Japanese curry tonight, since the sauce doesn’t take any work, and it’s a household favorite.
Once the chicken is nearly cooked through, he adds the vegetables, water, broth, and sauce chunks. Once the liquid has started to simmer, he turns down the flame and sets a timer on the stove and a lid on the pan. Then he turns around and nearly goes into cardiac arrest.
“Duo! Jesus fucking christ. What the fuck?”
Duo is standing there, right there, right behind him. Thank goodness he’s not holding the kitchen knife or Wufei would actually have been concerned. That look in Duo’s eyes is back, the glimmer of something, and he’s just… not moving, though one of his ponytails has swept over one shoulder and is rising and falling with each breath.
“Duo?” Wufei repeats, and reaches tentatively for Duo’s other shoulder. The touch jolts him into movement, however slight. His eyes refocus on Wufei’s face and he smiles an apology.
“Oh, sorry Wu… guess I just got… uh, caught up in my thoughts.”
Wufei raises an eyebrow. “Well, can you bring the cutting board to the sink? I want to wash up before the rice is done.”
“Uh, yeah, yeah, sure,” says Duo. He quickly fetches the cutting board and chef’s knife and brings them carefully over to the sink. Wufei is already washing out the mixing bowls that had held the curry ingredients.
“We have a few minutes until the curry is ready,” said Wufei, not looking up from the dishes. “Why don’t you set the table?”
Duo stands at the counter next to Wufei for a moment, not moving. Wufei turns, his mouth open, ready with some sharp remark, some barbed inquiry or cutting observation, only for Duo to move suddenly, to freeze Wufei with his piercing amethyst gaze for the split second it takes for their lips to meet. Duo doesn't lean; he teleports into Wufei's space and lays electrified hands on his cheeks, sizzling his skin and drawing him in as certainly as if they had been magnets.
Wufei finds his breath again, but it comes in a gasp. Duo is– Duo is–
Duo is fireworks and explosions and pressure and heat and–
Duo is kissing him.
Duo is kissing him.
Wufei distantly hears a soft moan and starts when he realizes it's his own voice. He pulls back, spooked, and knows he must look as shocked as he feels. His mouth hangs open, his lips already lonely.
Duo’s expression is afraid, then mortified. He starts to spin, to flee, but Wufei is quicker. His hand shoots out and grabs Duo's wrist, flicking droplets of dish water and soap suds everywhere.
“Wait,” he says. “Don't go.”
Duo doesn't pull away, but neither does he relax. The electricity that had crackled through his hands seemed to freeze him in place now, as though he were getting electrocuted. Wufei can almost see him trembling.
“Please,” he says, softly. “You won't run?”
Duo stares for a few more seconds before taking a deep breath and shaking his head.
They hold each other's gaze as Wufei slowly lets go of Duo's wrist. He reaches blindly for a dish towel and pulls it off the rod to dry his hands. Then he reaches out and dries a few foamy drops of water on Duo's cheek. Duo's eyelashes flutter closed but snap open again when the dish towel is drawn back and dropped unceremoniously on the counter. He watches Wufei, and Wufei watches him back.
And then Wufei is kissing him this time. He slides one hand along Duo’s jaw and curls calloused fingertips below his ear. Duo whimpers against his lips. Wufei knows he’s not very experienced, but that doesn’t seem to matter right now, or at least he hopes it doesn’t. Besides, Duo kissed him first.
Duo kissed him.
Wufei thinks he could stay like this forever but then Duo shifts and Wufei immediately begins worrying he’s not doing it right, or isn't good enough, or – he pulls back, lifts his head with the questions in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m not – I mean, I can’t – I mean, I –”
Duo’s shoulders slump and he smiles ruefully. “Hey man, it’s cool. I, uh, well, just thought I’d try. Thought I’d seen some cues, y'know? But I’ve been wrong before, so no worries, ‘kay? We’ll just… chalk it up to, I dunno, uh… lack of sleep. Yeah, that.” Duo starts to step backwards, getting ready to turn around.
“No!” Wufei feels almost frightened of the inexplicable terror he heard in his voice. He gains control over his voice again. “Um, no. Wait. Please.” He stares at the floor, fists tight against his sides. Duo is still directly in front of him. He can still feel the press of Duo's thighs, hips, belly against his body. “That's not… what I meant,” he grits out, stiffly. The scowl is because he doesn't know what other expression to use here.
Fortunately, Duo seems to get it, or at the very least he's not being as obtuse as he sometimes pretends to be. “You… don't want me to go,” he says as much as asks.
Wufei shakes his head, rubbing his knuckles against his pants, feeling the smoothness of the fabric slide over the rough skin.
Duo shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and rocks up onto the balls of his feet.
“So, uh…” he says, nonchalant in the same way a drunk person tries to feign sobriety, “what… does that mean? For us? You… wanna have dinner together? You wanna keep, uh, k-kissing? What?”
Wufei hates this part. He wishes for telepathy, or that it would be acceptable to have this conversation via email. Do they even need to have this conversation? He's never heard Duo stutter before and it's weird.
Fuck it, he decides. Conversations are for losers. He looks up and Duo actually takes a step back. Wufei stalks up to him; Duo tenses like he's getting ready to take a punch and Wufei can feel the tension when he leans forward and kisses Duo on the mouth. He wraps his arm around Duo's shoulder and cups the nape of his stiff neck, squeezing lightly until the muscles ease. He's still not very good at kissing, but fortunately, Duo seems to regain his mental function at this point and takes back the lead. Wufei finds himself stepping backwards as Duo presses forwards, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hip, as though they were dancing. Wufei opens his mouth, gasps Duo’s name. Then their tongues join them in the tango, the mamba, and the cha-cha-cha. Wufei’s ass is suddenly pressed up against the kitchen sink again and Duo adjusts the angle of his head and that is so much better. The churning emotions in his belly coalesce into a gentle warmth, an embrace of hope and desire. He grabs onto Duo’s shirt to keep his balance, even though he’s apparently pinned between a sink and a hard place, or maybe because of that. He can feel his own “place” getting harder and it’s making him want more… just more. He’s not innocent, really, but he can’t think of how to take this to the next level.
Duo saves the day once more as the hand at his hip slides up and under his shirt. It seems like such a simple move, a natural choice, but fuck if he couldn’t have come up with the idea had it been the only option in the world. Duo’s hand feels warm on his skin, exciting. His belly tightens with eagerness and he stops kissing Duo just long enough to look into his eyes, the serious stare infused with desire.
“Should I take it off?” He means his shirt, and wonders if he should specify that, but Duo only smirks and slides his other hand up under Wufei’s shirt. He keeps going upwards until Wufei is forced to raise his arms, and then his shirt is off and Duo kisses his neck and palms his belly and chest and the spark of a fingernail catching on his nipple–
Wufei gasps, his fingers tightening on Duo’s waist. “Duo!” The word comes out louder than he’d expected though it’s still not loud, not really.
Duo ignores him and pinches the nipple, eliciting another gasp. He bites at Wufei’s neck. No one has ever been this rough with him, not that he’s had that many partners, just a couple of times making out with another kid in school, a bit of groping here and there. He feels his arousal intensify, the dull ache of Duo’s bite and the subsequent suction over the area causing his breath to speed up again. He moans and trembles.
“Duo…” he says again, and Duo straightens up. He looks at Wufei, concerned.
“Are you okay? Is everything– Do you want to stop?”
“No!” Wufei protests. “I just… here?” He gestures around them, the sink still full of soapy water. The curry is still simmering away.
Duo reaches over to the stove and turns the curry on low. “Well, come on then,” he purrs, and tugs Wufei by the hand.
“Wait, where–?” he breaks himself off, because they live here. There are only a few places Duo would be taking him and he will doubtless find out soon enough. Besides, it’s a stupid question. Who cares where Duo is taking him, as long as it has some place soft and horizontal?
“Where” turns out to be Duo’s room, which Wufei doesn’t really enter much, due to the fact that a) it’s usually messy and that makes him anxious and b) much of the mess is often Duo’s underwear and that also makes him anxious, but for different reasons. Now, he figures, he’ll be too distracted to be anxious. He hopes so, anyway.
Duo’s room is still messy, but his bed is surprisingly clear, if not made. Before they reach it, however, Duo stops and turns to Wufei.
“Um,” he starts, “I just wanted to make sure, you know…”
“Yes!” blurts Wufei. And then, more softly, “yes. I’m sure. I want to, uh…” He gestures towards the bed. “Whatever you wanna do.”
Duo smiles, a little subdued now, almost apprehensive. “You wanna have sex? Have you ever, uh…”
Wufei looks down, embarrassed. “No. I haven’t. You?” He figured he knew the answer but thought it best to ask.
“Yeah,” says Duo, and leans in for another, softer, kiss, coaxing Wufei’s face up to meet his. “Do you wanna? It’s ok if you don’t.”
“No, I do. Really. You’re so gorgeous.” Wufei hadn’t planned on saying the last three words.
Duo blushes at that, averting his eyes. “Nah, I’m not that special.”
Wufei grabs Duo’s cheeks in both hands, brings his face up until they are mere inches apart. “Duo Maxwell, you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life.”
Duo actually gasps at that and then he leans in again for more, more kissing, more contact. His hands are all over Wufei’s back, his shoulders, his neck. He pulls off the elastic band from Wufei’s ponytail and lets it fall carelessly to the ground. Wufei spares a half-second to wonder if he’ll ever see it again before Duo’s hands are in his hair and it feels amazing. He knows what it feels like to card his fingers through Duo’s hair but he had never really thought about what it might feel like to have someone else touch his own hair.
Wufei wants to touch Duo’s skin more, so he tugs at the hem of Duo’s t-shirt until it rides high enough for him to slide his hands up underneath. Duo’s skin is warm and Wufei can feel the bumps and ridges of scars from the war, but in between it is soft and hard in turn, soft belly, hard ribs, firm pecs. Wufei thinks Duo still needs to eat more; he can feel the man’s ribs, and resolves to cook so that there will be leftovers.
“Want me to take it off?” Duo asks in Wufei’s ear, and Wufei can only nod.
Then Duo steps back, all the way back so they aren’t touching at all and he grins cheekily at his housemate. He sways his hips a little as he crosses his arms in front of him and slowly pulls his t-shirt off, giving Wufei a bit of a strip tease.
Wufei lifts his hand, isn’t sure what he was going to do with it, puts it down again. He watches as Duo tosses the shirt off to the side; it lands on the floor, next to a pile of books and a single sock. Wufei hides a wince and ignores the floor, concentrating on Duo and only Duo.
Duo smirks again, reaching for the waist of his jeans. “I saw that, you know. I’m a slob, I know it. Not gonna change, though, sorry.”
Wufei swallows. He heard Duo, he knows what he said, but he can’t bring himself to care at this point. His eyes are glued to Duo’s fingers, pulling the corner of one side over the button on the other, then the same fingers reach for the zipper pull and bring it down inch… by… inch…
Wufei glances up at Duo, who is watching him hungrily. His lips are slightly parted and Wufei can see his abdomen expand and contract as he breathes. His eyes return to Duo’s zipper, which is most of the way down now, revealing his boxers – sky blue, with cartoon pictures of sloths hanging from gym equipment. Wufei coughs a laugh; he hasn’t seen this pair yet, so it must be new.
Duo chuckles and Wufei glances back up for a second. But his eyes are drawn back down as Duo hooks his thumb under the waistband of the jeans and begins to push them downwards.
“Fuck, Duo,” he half-whispers. “Hurry it the fuck up.”
Duo’s chuckle grows heartier and he shakes his head. “Uh uh. You want the goods, you gotta pay for the goods,” he says, grinning.
“What the fuck am I paying for them with?” Wufei snaps, flexing his fingers. He wants to just step forward and yank but he knows that won’t be a good idea.
“Your pa~tience,” says Duo, drawing out the word. “I wanna see you suffer.”
“Screw you, I’ve been suffering for the last year!” retorts Wufei, and then gasps, freezing as he realizes what he just admitted to.
Duo pauses too, but recovers more quickly, his grin widening so much that his eyes are almost shut. “A year, ey?” he asks, his voice dripping with innuendo. “You’ve wanted me for that long?”
Wufei’s face was red this time, and his hands were clenched into embarrassed fists at his side. “Whatever. Not important right now.”
“Ah, but it is…“ insists Duo, as he bends down to push the jeans all the way down and step out of them. He tosses them in the same direction that the shirt went. Wufei doesn’t even look at them, his eyes fixed on Duo’s body, flitting from face to chest to hips to groin and back up again. He wants to move, wants to do something, wants to take off his pants, wants to push Duo backwards onto the bed.
“Duo,” he growls, and finally Duo meets his gaze and, holding it steady, pushes his boxers down off his hips in one swift movement.
Wufei lets a breath out as though he had been holding it. He wants… he wants. He fumbles at his own jeans and pushes them down grabbing his underwear on the way down and steps out of them, practically tripping on them in his haste.
Duo is laughing as he is pushed backwards into the bed, falling easily back onto it. His hair, pulled up into the two ponytails with the braids alongside each one flips up and out, fanning on either side of him. He looks silly and he looks hot and he looks like a fucking snack and Wufei has not had dinner yet. Duo crab walks backwards until his head rests on the pillow and Wufei follows, leaning down to kiss Duo again. Their cocks bump into each other and Wufei has to fight the urge to just hump Duo’s leg. He groans into Duo’s mouth.
For a few moments, they kiss and they kiss; they begin to learn how to touch each other and how to be touched. Duo already knows that Wufei is obsessed with his hair, but Wufei is surprised to find that Duo is fascinated with his own straight black hair, longer than when he was a teenager, and thicker now that he is eating properly and getting enough nutrients. While Wufei worships Duo’s nipples, Duo’s fingers play through the strands of his hair. While Duo sucks on Wufei’s neck. Wufei clutches one braid with each hand, trying not to pull Duo off of him.
Finally, Duo lifts his head. “Well,” he says. “Do you wanna?”
“What?” asks Wufei, breathless.
“Do you wanna fuck me?”
Wufei feels his response in his cock. “Yes,” he breathes. “Please.”
Duo’s eyes go dark and he has to take a breath before he rolls to the side, reaching into the drawer of his night stand. He pulls out a small bottle of personal lubricant and squeezes some out onto Wufei’s hand.
“You gotta prep me,” he says. “Do you… uh… do you know how?”
Wufei’s tanned face flushes darker and he looks down. “I mean, I’ve never done it myself,” he mutters, “but I know the principle of the matter.”
After lying back, spreading his legs and bending his knees in a position that, to Wufei, looks incredibly lurid and exposed and wanton, Duo grins and says, “Well, go nuts. I’ll let you know if, you know, you do it wrong, or whatever.”
Embarrassment and desire flood Wufei’s senses in equal measure and he scowls, pushing away his instinctive flight response. He would never forgive himself if he ran away now. “Fine,” he grunts, and doesn’t meet Duo’s eyes. Instead he focuses on his task, dipping a finger in the lube and coating it liberally. He is thankful he trimmed his fingernails that morning after his shower.
Cautiously, he touches his finger to Duo’s opening and hears Duo take in a breath. He rubs his finger around the puckered skin, coating it with the slick substance, and finally pushes inside. Duo is taking measured breaths. He moves his finger around, getting accustomed to the feel of the passageway. He has never tried this, even on himself, so the experience is entirely new. The walls feel smooth, a bit lumpy, with plenty of give if he presses to the side. He pulls the finger out and gets more lube, adds a second finger. He knows he needs to stretch the tight muscle of the sphincter, so he spreads his fingers apart, a little at a time, using Duo’s little sighs and whimpers and other inexplicably hot noises as guidance for whether or not he is going in the right direction.
He takes his fingers out to get more lube, but Duo lowers his legs.
“What’s wrong?” Wufei asks, immediately. He assumes he must have done something. Why else…?
Duo laughs, and he feels heat creep back into his cheeks and across his forehead. He pulls back, gets ready to vault himself off the bed and out of Duo’s life.
“Stop that!” scolds Duo, a fond grin on his face as he catches his wrist.
“....Stop what?” asks Wufei, his voice smaller than he’d like.
“Running away, dumbass. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Shit. Duo knows him better than Wufei had thought. But he stops edging towards the side of the bed.
“I’m just changing positions.”
“Oh.” Wufei feels like a fool, but he stays where he is while Duo turns over and gets on his hands and knees. His ponytails fall past each shoulder and pool on the sheets below, and his ass sticks out behind his arched back and it’s just… “Fuck…”
Wufei doesn’t realize the word actually came out of his mouth until Duo looks back at him over his shoulder and wiggles his ass. “Well, lover boy? You said it… let’s go!”
Wufei scowls again, but he kneels back up and coats his fingers in the rest of the lube, wiping his still slick palm on his leg and then resting it on Duo’s hip to steady him as he goes back to stretching Duo’s ass. After a moment, Duo is pushing back onto his fingers and making the most wanton, lascivious, utterly hot noises that Wufei has ever heard in his life. He is red in the face and his cock is harder than it has ever been in his life. Duo has gone down from his hands onto his elbows, making his ass seem like it’s even more on display, and with Duo’s forehead resting on his forearms, all he can look at is the hairstyle he braided earlier in the afternoon and the long flowing hair set in twin tails high on his head. It’s like his fantasies have come to life in front of him.
“God, Duo, I can’t… are you ready?” Wufei asks, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat.
“Yeah,” breathes Duo, a little muffled, “I’m ready. Go on.” And then, after a beat, “put some more on your dick. Makes it… huh… a bit easier.”
Wufei does so, hurriedly, and almost comes the moment his hand closes, wet and slippery, around his cock. With a groan, he quickly pinches the base, his head falling backwards with his eyes screwed shut, until the imminent quickening in his belly subsides. Then he positions the tip, lines it up with Duo’s opening and begins to push inside.
Duo is breathing out, then in, deep breaths, pushing steadily back against Wufei’s cock. Wufei can’t take his eyes off of the sight of it, disappearing inside Duo’s body like that. It feels like absolutely nothing he’s felt before in his life, not a toy, not his hand, nothing, and Wufei thinks he might actually have died and gone to heaven, or… wherever you go where you get to fuck Duo Maxwell. He groans, deep in his throat, and finally bottoms out, his groin hitting Duo’s ass cheeks.
“Fuck, ‘Fei. Fuck. Feels so good,” whimpers Duo, and Wufei wants to hear nothing else in his life in this moment than that voice coming from Duo’s mouth. But then Duo continues, and his voice is a bit more normal now, still breathless but with a bit more teasing than when he’s in the throes of pleasure: “You gotta move, Fei… I’m not gonna do all the work here.”
Snapping back to reality, Wufei pulls out halfway and shoves his cock back in, annoyed at both himself and Duo. Duo lets out a cry and stops talking, then, and soon he and Wufei find a rhythm together.
“Fei…”
Wufei lifts his head, slows his thrusts. “What?” he breathes. He has been fascinated with the different sounds Duo is making, little whimpers and high-pitched whining and the sighs and breaths that come out with each push of his hips.
“Pull my hair,” says Duo, and Wufei does a double take.
“What?” He isn’t entirely sure he heard Duo right.
“Pull my hair, Wu, please… Come on… you did it perfect earlier… For this… I want you to pull them while you’re fucking me.”
Wufei is so surprised that he doesn’t even think to correct Duo’s grammar mistake or wonder what he did perfectly that Duo’s referring to. But he can guess, and he’s not about to protest, either. He reaches forwards, curls his fingers around each ponytail, slides his hands down the length of each, pulling each tail all the way back over Duo’s shoulders. Then he reaches forward again and grabs tight an inch or so back from the elastic band.
When he begins to thrust again, pulling backwards on Duo’s hair with each thrust, the noises that come out of Duo’s mouth are positively unholy. He moans and wails and throws his head back, making Wufei clutch tighter and pull harder, like he was riding a horse. It’s incredible and sexy and Wufei is feeling his climax approaching. He opens his mouth and with a nearly silent groan, his face screws up and he thrusts erratically a few more times until the sparks overtake his body. He shudders, pumping a few more times into Duo’s body before he stills. Panting, he slumps down over Duo’s back, holding himself up with his hands.
He rests his cheek on Duo’s back for a moment while he recovers his mental faculties, but realizes that Duo hasn’t come yet. So he reaches around and wraps strong fingers around Duo’s cock and begins to stroke and tug. He pushes himself upright again and grabs both of Duo’s ponytails up in one hand, pulling backwards as he jerks Duo until he too is shuddering and moaning beneath him.
Afterwards, Wufei pulls carefully out of Duo and looks around for something he can use as a towel.
“Shirt,” mumbles Duo, face down against the sheets, and flaps his hand vaguely in the direction of the laundry on the floor.
Wufei rolls his eyes and leans down to grab his own shirt, which at least he knows is reasonably clean, and resolves next time to bring a towel into the bedroom first.
Then his breath catches and he realizes what just meandered casually through his thoughts like it belonged there.
Next time?
Wufei methodically cleans his dick off, then uses a clean portion of the cotton fabric to wipe Duo’s ass where his cum was still leaking out onto his thighs. He wipes up as much of Duo’s cum as he can off of the sheets and then rolls the shirt up and tosses it onto a pile of Duo’s laundry before gently coaxing Duo onto his side, avoiding the wet spot. Then he carefully kneels on the bed next to Duo.
Duo looks up from where he is lying. He has been watching Wufei, a bit sleepily, or maybe it’s just the haze of post-coital bliss, but now he opens his eyes with a bit more clarity and looks up at Wufei.
“What?” asks Duo, the question echoing in his eyes.
Wufei doesn’t really want to ask, but he doesn’t really want to not know, either. “I… I just don’t know… What is this? To you? What are we?” He isn’t sure if it’s the fact that they just had sex or something else, but once the words start flowing, Wufei can’t seem to stop them until he’s gotten every uncertainty out, which is definitely uncharacteristic for him, though the way he gets more and more negative and in his head is not. “Does this even mean anything to you? Will there be a next time? Why did you even start this? Do you even feel anything for me? Why–”
He is cut off by a finger across his lips and he closes his eyes tightly against the shame he feels. How could he have been so stupid?
“Wufei,” comes the quiet voice. It’s the same voice that is usually loud and carefree, but now it’s soft and gentle. Caring. He looks up. Duo is propped up on his elbow, the other hand reaching out for his cheek. “Come here.”
Duo is reaching out for him and Wufei can’t resist that look, those eyes. He shifts his weight and gingerly lies down next to Duo, resting his head on Duo’s shoulder as Duo curls his arm around Wufei.
“I really really like you, Fei, and you’re an idiot if you’re thinking that I’d kiss you like that if it weren’t for something real.”
Wufei huffs a laugh out of his nose, the self-ridiculing kind. He knows he’s an idiot.
Duo continues. “Not to mention that we’re already friends. Do you think I’d willingly let you sleep with a guy who didn’t have good intentions?” Wufei is curled inwards so he can’t see Duo’s face, but he hears the affectionate smile in his voice and can’t help but relax a little. A tiny smile makes its way onto his lips.
“You have to know that I’d kick the ass of any thundercunt that makes you unhappy, right?”
This gets an actual chuckle out of Wufei, and he uncurls enough to reach out and wrap an arm around Duo’s middle.
“Thundercunt, eh?” he murmurs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Duo’s arm tightens around Wufei’s shoulder. “You’d better. You’re a moron, but you’re a hot, sweet, smart, thoughtful and fucking sexy as hell moron, so I’d like to maybe keep doing this for a while. That’s what got your panties all twisted, right? You started thinking this was just a one time thing for me. Right?”
Wufei nods, once.
“I mean, first of all,” says Duo, and it’s in that tone of voice where you know he’s just getting started, “think about it. We live together. Do you really think I’d wanna one night stand my fuckin’ roommate?! Fuck no! I mean, unless we agree on, like, a friends with bennies situation, but we definitely did not talk about that beforehand, and besides, something tells me you’re not really a friends with bennies type. You want commitment. Or, you know, at least something close to commitment. But yeah, a one night stand would only end up being super awkward and I know how you get when you feel awkward so, uh, yeah, no thanks. And second of all, I know you think I’m fucking Heero, which I’m not, obviously, since he’s in Japan, but like, I also wasn’t planning on fucking him when he comes back, unless, like, he’s ok with it, and you’re ok with it, and I don’t even know how that would work because the two of you are literally the worst conversationalists in the entire Earth Sphere–”
“Duo,” says Wufei, softly, looking up.
Duo pauses and glances down, a fond, only slightly devious smile on his lips. “Yes?”
“I get it.”
“You get it?” asks Duo, feigned innocence heavy in his tone.
“I get it,” repeats Wufei.
“And what do you get?” asks Duo, his voice practically grinning with delight, though outwardly, he’s only smiling.
“I get that you like me, you ‘like like’ me, and I ‘like like’ you, too. And that you’ll kick the ass of any thundercunt who makes me sad.”
“Well,” says Duo, squeezing Wufei’s shoulders again. “Glad you were paying attention.”
Wufei laughs softly and squeezes Duo’s torso back. “That said,” he continues, “I think we should probably go back downstairs and check on the curry.”
Duo gasps loudly and sits up, dumping Wufei’s head unceremoniously on the mattress. “Oh shit, yeah! I’m starving, let’s go!”
And as Duo leaps off the bed, Wufei just starts laughing, a loud, deep, joyful belly laugh that has Duo turning back and laughing with him. Duo reaches out with both hands and pulls Wufei to his feet.
As they kiss, Wufei ignores the little grumble from his stomach. It can wait.