Title: Kink

Pairings/Warnings: 1+R, 1x1, 2x2, a very light (and perhaps blatantly incorrect) definition of the word "kink" is being employed coming from a heterosexual vanilla sex perspective, obviously – smut, a little bit of bad language. Not really sure where this idea came from, but here it is nonetheless.

Beta'd by the ever wonderful Miss-Murdered!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing but at least the boys typically get laid. ;-P

Duo and I have a little kink.

I'm not sure exactly how it started. I mean, I know when it started, but I'm not exactly sure how the series of events morphed into what they are today. What they have been for the better part of a year.

It was just after a mission. I knew from prior experience that Duo's adrenaline rush left him wanting more than he usually got and after throwing his things down in the locker room he stormed off to the gym to work out the rest of his aggression. Duo always had a hard time winding down. I couldn't exactly blame him – I did too. Just in a different way.

I glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past midnight and I figured that even if Relena was home, which was somewhat unlikely though for obvious reasons I hadn't thought to look at her calendar before we left on this last minute bomb threat, I knew there was no chance that she would be in the mood, so to speak, when I got home.

So I sighed huffily, ripping off my clothes in frustration, just the act of fabric slipping across my body stimulating oversensitive nerves. If she was home, which was at least a 50/50 chance, I knew she would try to monopolize my time and I would have to wait for her to fall back to sleep before I had any chance to release this tension without some kind of verbal ramification. I can't say that I didn't know from personal experience that after waiting for so long the release would be lack luster and ineffectual.

Shit was easier during the war when whatever J injected me with kept me from being able to feel damn near anything. Now it was like my skin was on fire and everything was electric. Adrenaline didn't help at all.

At some point I guess I just said 'fuck it' and I fell naked onto the bench at the far end of the locker room and began stroking myself. Needless to say, I sure as hell didn't expect Duo to wander in for at least another thirty minutes, but I guess he forgot something. What that something was I'll never know as the words died on his lips as soon as he saw me, hand on dick, jerking myself off, and our eyes met across the way in shock.

And then, much to my surprise, Duo just shrugged and started stripping off his own clothes. I guess he figured beating off would be just as good as beating a punching bag – I don't know. But I couldn't help but note he was already half-hard when he flopped down next to me and a few quick strokes brought him to full arousal.

I didn't really think much of it. You might wonder why, but really, Duo and I had been through more shit together than most people could ever understand. We fought a war together. I stole parts from his Gundam, a machine that was a physical extension of himself, and he forgave me. He broke me out of a hospital. I rescued him from a prison. We partnered on just about every assignment Preventer threw at us. I'd seen him beaten, naked, drunk, angry, scared, overjoyed, and fucking bored as hell. And he'd seen me the same. It really didn't bother me to see him like this and I'm not body conscious in any way that would make me feel shame over him seeing me like this. If anything, it was the vulnerability that would've made it difficult – but I felt no vulnerability with Duo. He was the one person I trusted absolutely.

And anyway, I found it strangely enticing to watch him touch himself so intimately and I assumed he must feel the same. He made a variety of little sounds as he stroked and teased and palmed himself that I found sent shivers down my spine. The illicitness of the whole affair – being as we were at work, being as he was my friend – only heightened the intensity and when I came, I came hard, closing my eyes and groaning as hot cum spilled over my fingers and down my thighs. I was careful, however, not to watch Duo's own ejaculation though I heard the gasp and the sigh and the breathy way he panted afterward, causing an unfamiliar fluttering sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Without a single word, we both got up, showered, and threw each other casual "good byes" as we separated in the parking deck. Nothing changed between us and to be honest I really didn't think of it again.

Well, not until a few weeks later after coming in from an incredibly tense hostage situation. Duo slammed his fist into a locker and I snorted my frustration at his inability to control himself. Yeah, I might've been painfully hard but I was handling it like a man. I heard him make an irritated sound in the back of his throat and he met my eyes and I could tell that he was on the verge of hurling some angry, thoughtless words at me when he hesitated. I guess he must've seen something in my eyes as I returned his stare – I said I was dealing my adrenaline-fueled erection, not that I was hiding it well. But in that moment something clicked and we both started stripping as quickly as possible, hands already on hard dicks as we sat down on that bench once more, fingers moving furiously over flesh in a desperate need for some kind of release.

It felt good that he understood me – felt good that I didn't have to hide or package my neediness in some romantic gesture to have it taken care of. I didn't see any need to tell Relena about it, either, as we didn't touch each other, and I knew from previous experience that she wasn't altogether too fond of the knowledge that there were times I took care of myself when she wasn't willing. Although for the record I'll never understand why. I thought I was doing her a favor and being mindful of her needs while satisfying my own.

But after that our shared ritual became more frequent. At least as frequently as we had missions that had us arriving back to HQ long after everyone else had left. But then at least once a month we'd be stuck on reports, staying late to finish the backlog we'd tend to build up as the most active agents on the force, and so we'd go to the gym to let off a little steam. We'd lift weights and then we'd spar and then we'd find ourselves in the locker room, jacking off together, our needy moans fueled by and simultaneously fueling each other's shared desire.

We had grown more vocal as we became more comfortable with the arrangement. Other things had changed, too. I found I became comfortable watching Duo ejaculate, the vision of it combined with his gasps almost always able to bring me to my own completion. And Duo would stretch himself out sometimes, throwing his other arm behind his head and spreading his legs wide, or he would buck his hips so that his dick would rock back and forth in his hand, so much like sex. I found his playful style intriguing, even if I wasn't eager to try it for myself, it seeming very much more him than it was me. Though watching him I did find ways to prolong and intensify orgasm. And I did let myself moan and curse the way I always wanted to but rarely felt comfortable with during intercourse.

But then one day his head fell into my shoulder and he pressed the bridge of his nose into it and I could hear him hissing and I could feel the slickness of sweat between us and I could feel how much just that little touch turned me on and of course, things changed again. After that, he sat down right next to me, the entire side of our bodies flush against one another, the hot stickiness of his skin and the smell of his sweat fueling my desire in ways I knew were no longer right. He would dig his hand into my thigh or my hair or I would grip his arm with bruising force or paw eagerly at his hip, feeling the way the bone jutted out and curved down towards his crotch.

Although I knew that what we were doing was blurring the lines between friendship and sex, I still found myself justifying not telling Relena. First of all, there was no delicate way to bring this subject up. Especially at this point, where things had been continuing along this route for months and months. Second of all, despite the increase in touching, we still weren't actually touching erogenous zones specifically. Any place Duo touched me was just a place he would touch me if I were clothed or not. He frequently smacked my shoulder or head or grabbed my arm or hell, during sparring we could easily end up pressed against one another in a non-sexual way – even despite the fact we almost always engaged in this mutual masturbation afterwards if I thought about it. And third of all... well, third was a bit of a poor subject really and didn't exactly help my case, but third of all I was finding more sexual pleasure in these self-fulfilled moments between my best friend and I than I was with Relena. I had the freedom to be more experimental with myself than she ever allowed me. And despite their infrequency, these moments were more frequent than sex as we were constantly apart. And as the stress of our relationship drove a wedge between us, I found a comfort and completion in these moments that I hadn't felt for a long time and I am forced to admit I selfishly didn't want to give that up.

Unfortunately, that distance growing between Relena and I is what spurred me on into doing the one thing I really shouldn't have as I strived to get everything I needed from our relationship in ten minutes of jacking off at midnight every other week sitting next to someone else.

I had begun to anticipate it so much that the looks we exchanged as we stripped in the locker room made my dick throb painfully with need. Unable to help myself, I brushed my shoulder against his back as I took that all too familiar seat and he fell in next to me, his body pressed up tight against mine. I could feel his eyes on me as he reached over to thumb one of his nipples, his other hand cupping and teasing his balls as he rocked his hips slightly back and forth, building his anticipation. It was something I could never do – I had no patience for this. My hand was already stroking up and down my length as my other ran up his thigh to his hip and I felt his skin prickle under my touch. I can't pretend it didn't turn me on that I affected him that way.

Moving my hand from his hip, I slid it across my own body and down between my legs, stroking up under my balls, brushing my fingers across all my sensitive areas, feeling my cock twitch in my hand.

"Fuck," I muttered and leaned my head back against the wall, turning to the side so I could watch through half-lidded eyes as his left hand encircled his dick and the fingers of his right tangled in my hair, twisting it, making me bite down on my lower lip. I was always impressed how ambidextrous he was at this. But I suppose when you pilot as well as he does...

I watched as he stroked slowly, tilting his hips up as his hand came down to meet his base. It was always fascinating to me to see his head swell with desire as he did this, pre-cum gathering at the tip, and it made me groan to see it. Women were so different. It was so much more difficult to tell when they were aroused. But with Duo, it was all laid out before me, obvious and visual and accessible. I hesitate to say I liked it better, but I obviously liked it well enough to engage in this kind of behavior for months.

Then Duo sped up, turning his head to the side and pressing his forehead against mine, slick and sweaty, our noses aligned, and he jerked my hair with every one of his thrusts. His breath was hot on my face, and watching the way he bit down on his lower lip as his speed increased made me wonder what else was different about him. His lips made me wonder what it would be like to kiss a man – if I would like it just as well as I liked seeing him pleasure himself.

Before I was even completely cognizant of what I was doing I was pressing forward that half-inch between our lips and was kissing him, open mouthed and needy. He didn't hesitate to kiss me back and the passion and intensity of his kiss released something like fire burning through me, every one of my nerves ablaze with desire, wanton fervor long held down unfurling from my gut and traveling across every pleasure receptor in my body until my hand was moving so quickly I knew I would come too fast but I didn't even care. Although the blood was rushing in my ears so loud I felt like I was drowning I could still faintly make out the sound of his own hand slapping rapidly into flesh with the same fury I employed.

He moaned, low and long, into my mouth and I felt his thigh tense against mine, knowing he found release. The intimacy of our connection with our lips and tongues locked pushed me over the edge and my eyes slammed shut against the heady rush of orgasm. And then Duo's lips were removed from mine far sooner than I would've liked as he leaned back against the wall panting and I cracked open my eyes to look at him, fingers playing over his dick slowly as he wound down, cum across his abs, his skin sheened with sweat, and I guess on some level I realized how attractive I found him – though I'd never thought that thought before and I wondered why. Maybe it was so obvious it wasn't really worth any conscious part of my brain. I'm not sure. But as we got up to shower a new, uncomfortable feeling settled in and I didn't like it.

That – what we did – that was wrong. That crossed the line. It couldn't just be ignored and pushed aside the way our ritual had been up until this point. This was fulfilling something within me that I needed and I acknowledged that – but I needed to figure out what that was and I needed to do something about it. I couldn't put it off any longer.

We showered across from each other, backs turned as usual, and were throwing on shirts before Duo spoke. And when he spoke, I felt my stomach bottom out and my heart squeeze with the reality of his words.

"We can't do this any more."

I stared at him a moment, the way he stared forward into his locker stubbornly, the way he balled his towel in his fists and the way his hands shook, and I shut my locker quietly, silently acknowledging what he said. The idea of these moments being taken away from me was gutting – I felt strangely lost, like I was suddenly alone. I didn't understand that feeling. Duo was my friend. I had Relena too. I wasn't alone. But I guess I knew I fucked up. I broke the rules. I wondered if it hurt him the way it hurt me. It seemed like maybe it did. He didn't look at me. I didn't know what to say.

He followed me out of the building and we waved at one another before separating in the parking deck. The same as it ever was – but also, not. That was it. That was the last time. Everything was different now.

Silence seemed to make the ride longer as I slid through the empty streets. I had moved in with her when I started working at Preventer. Taking our relationship to the next level – or whatever. We were eighteen. Young, but then, it seemed like the right thing to do. We were both more dedicated and mature than the average eighteen year old.

I parked, kicked off my boots in the hall, knowing someone would come along and put them where they were supposed to be. Moonlight impressed weird patterns I was accustomed to across the walls and the priceless artwork hanging throughout the upscale building I had reluctantly come to think of as home.

In the private sitting room I shrugged out of my clothes, making a half-hearted attempt at throwing them into the hamper. It was past midnight. Slack would be cut for my laziness. I found I liked to push the boundaries of Relena's patience with me. It was juvenile but she'd always had so much patience with me and I never felt I deserved that. I was a fuck up. I wished I could make her see that.

I pushed open the door to our bedroom slowly, softly and sat down on the bed. I ran my hands over my face, wondering just what the fuck it was I did. Duo was right. I knew as I turned to look at her, pale moonlight painting her and making her skin glow, implicit trust etched into her resting face, that Duo was just trying to protect her. Maybe even protect me. I was wrong. I was wrong to kiss him. I let my need for...

My brain paused as I groped for a word. What did I need? What was it I needed from those moments with him? Release? If it were just release, I would've never taken it that far, right? If it were just release, I didn't need to kiss him. We'd proven that time after time. Until tonight.

I brought my legs up onto the bed and buried my forehead against my knees. What the fuck was I doing here? This bed was empty and neither my body nor Relena's could fill it with what was missing. She sighed my name and I turned my head to look at her, her brows furrowed with sleep as she looked up at me. She brought a hand to her face and rubbed her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Her voice sounded concerned. I stared at her and I wondered again, what was I doing here? She wasn't beautiful to me. She was pretty and sweet and kind but she evoked none of the feelings within me that Duo had now for months. When our eyes met I felt nothing for her and the way that emptiness twisted my gut hurt and I leaned forward and kissed her, hoping for a moment to feel something, anything, even just a spark to kindle the raging inferno I felt for Duo.

It was soft and sad and I still felt nothing as my lips left hers. She smiled at me and stretched out an arm. I wished she hadn't smiled.

I folded myself into her and she embraced me easily, the way she embraced me so many times, trying to blanket me in her love but I felt nothing. And worse, the way her hands rested gently on me – no weight to them, no conviction – had me wondering if she felt anything at all or if she was just going through the motions too. Convinced she felt something because she always had felt something and if she didn't feel something then what were we doing here?

"We can't do this anymore." I whispered the words against her breastbone, my lips pressing them there, pinning them to her.

"Shhhh," she breathed out, squeezing me for a moment, oblivious to what I had said. The slackness of her body suggested she was on the verge of sleep once more and I knew anything I said would be lost on her anyway. And maybe it was for the best. Maybe in the morning, when the sun shone through the windows and coated everything in that optimistic golden hue, after I slept away the feeling of Duo's lips and they got lost where they belonged in nightmares, I would remember why I was here. Maybe I would remember why I stayed. Maybe I would remember what there was between us.

Maybe in the morning I would remember that I loved her.

But I never slept because remembering Duo's lips kept me up all night. And when the sun rose in the morning it didn't chase those feeling away with the nightmares, it only illuminated them in all their fiery glory until they shone so bright I was blinded with the truth of them.

It was that morning when I realized that I didn't love her at all.