[fic] Interlopers
Stream of consciousness masturbation fic written at 2am? Why yes, I have one of those!
Title: Interlopers
Pairing: 2x2, 2+1
Rating: NC-17?
Warnings: post-EW, Duo POV
You know what's weird? Staring up at the ceiling fan when you're trying to jerk off. I mean, it's not like my ceiling fan is particularly sexy, or anything. It's kind of ugly, to be perfectly honest. Put it this way: whoever designed this apartment was a big fan of wicker rattan. You'd think I was living in the former abode of the President of the goddamn Wicker Fan Club. Medicine cabinets in the bathroom? Wicker. Deck chairs on the patio? You guessed it. I think the toilet seats would be wicker if they'd thought they could get away with it. Assholes.
Shit, where was I? Oh yeah, trying to jerk off while staring at the nasty ceiling fan.
Why don't I just close my eyes and think of something else besides goddamn wicker, you ask? Well, smart guy, it's not that simple. You know how sometimes, you'll be getting into it, thinking of, I don't know, some hot babe you saw at the gym that week or that chick on the one TV show with the huge boobs, and all of a sudden something you absolutely don't find attractive sneaks its way into your fantasy and ruins everything? Like this: hot girl on the treadmill, hot TV girl, Mildred-the-middle-aged-Preventers-receptionist! And now, your jerk-off session is ruined by the knowledge that you were thinking about Mildred, who is probably old enough to be your grandmother, you perv.
I call those thoughts 'interlopers'. They just sneak up on you, and trying not to think about them only makes them stronger.
No, I'm not staring at my ceiling fan because I'm thinking about Mildred, Christ. It was just an example. Actually, the truth might be even worse. Lately, I've found myself unable to even begin to do the dirty deed without thinking of one particular person, no matter how much I don't want to.
Who is that person, you ask? Of course you'd want to know, wouldn't you? Shit. I'm embarrassed to even say it.
Look, I know it doesn't make sense, okay? I am surrounded by beautiful women at my job. Have you seen Agent Noin? On a one to ten scale, she is at least a twelve. I mean, the way that uniform fits on those hips... yeah, those broad shoulders... how that messy brown hair falls into those deep blue eyes... wait, stop!
Damn it, see what I mean? I have no control over it! Through no fault of my own, the only thoughts that come to my head are about none other than my partner at the agency and begrudging buddy, Heero Yuy.
I don't even know how it started, really. I swear, I didn't used to be like this. I used to be all about the ladies. So you can imagine my dismay when thoughts of Heero began unwillingly popping up in the middle of totally innocent masturbation fantasies. I mean, the guy is about as dudely as they come, long, lean lines all over his body, strong, lithe muscles running down his arms...
Damn it! There it goes again. It ain't right, I tell you. The guy is my best friend, for God's sake! What would he think if he knew I was thinking about him during times like this?
What would he think? He'd probably be mortified. Actually, hell, I don't know, maybe he wouldn't care.
Maybe he'd like it. Hm... maybe he'd ask if he could join in next time... yeah...
Shit, that was a close one. Almost lost it there. That would be awkward, huh? I'd never be able to look him in the eye again.
It's not like I, you know, like the guy or anything. Sure, we're friends, but sometimes it's like I'm talking to a damn wall. I'll make a joke, a real zinger, and he'll just look at me like I sneezed right on him or something. No sense of humor at all.
All right, I'm being a little unfair. Despite what some people may think, he's not a total wax statue, though he can do a damn good impression of one sometimes. He has emotions, he just doesn't betray them with facial expressions all too often. It can be a little difficult to be his friend, but hell, I like a challenge. And when I actually get him to smile, rare though it may be, and all those frowny lines in his forehead go away and his blue eyes crinkle up at the corners and he flashes those pearly whites at me, it feels like I just won the freaking lottery! It feels awesome, I've gotta say. It feels so... right.
Woah. Shit. I was trying to argue I wasn't attracted to him, wasn't I? Hm. Well.
Christ.
This is bad, isn't it? I mean, Heero doesn't have problems with things like this. He would never freak out over a little thing like jerking off thinking about his best buddy. Who would be... me.
Wonder if he's ever done it. Thought about me while touching himself, that is.
No way, I shouldn't go there. These are supposed to be thoughts I don't want. I'm supposed to be fantasizing about the boobs on the TV and Noin at the gym. Or was it Noin on the TV and boobs at the gym? In any case, I shouldn't be encouraging the interlopers.
But still... what if he has? What if he has laid down on his bed, just like this, Heero Jr. in hand, and thought about me?
Nah, no way. Not Heero. He'd never think about me while he slid his hand up and down, slowly working up a rhythm, bringing himself closer and closer to climax... my name definitely wouldn't be on his lips as he panted from the exertion, body taut and trembling, hand pumping faster and faster... Mmm... he definitely wouldn't imagine that it was my hands touching him, working him, expertly bringing him to the absolute brink before sending him hurtling into orgasmic ecstacy... oh God... Heero...!
Damn. That was... uh... intense. And fast. Wow. I... uh... yeah. I think I need a minute.
Well, I think it's safe to say that the cat is out of the bag. That was no mere interloper. That was a full blown fantasy. And wow, what a fantasy. Christ. Even the wicker fan looks kind of sexy in the afterglow.
I guess it's not the worst thing in the world. Sure, it'll be a little embarrassing tomorrow at the office, but it's not hurting anyone, right? Right? I like the guy. There, I said it. I like Heero. Like I said, I'm a sucker for a challenge. Besides, he has a nice smile. And nice eyes. And a nice ass. A really nice ass. I can appreciate all of that in secret, right?
It's not like I'm ever going to tell Heero any of this.
Well...
'Ever' is kind of a strong choice of words. A little too final, in my humble opinion. You know me, I never lie. So, I'll just say this.
I won't tell him any of this.
Not yet, at least.
The End
I am maybe 3/5 through this horror fic, in terms of pacing, probably 1/2 :( But I have to start this other fic I agreed to write for the advent calendar, which means I have to put the horror one on hold with the other one on hold. SIGH. I need a better rate of return than ~4 pages a day.
Title: Interlopers
Pairing: 2x2, 2+1
Rating: NC-17?
Warnings: post-EW, Duo POV
You know what's weird? Staring up at the ceiling fan when you're trying to jerk off. I mean, it's not like my ceiling fan is particularly sexy, or anything. It's kind of ugly, to be perfectly honest. Put it this way: whoever designed this apartment was a big fan of wicker rattan. You'd think I was living in the former abode of the President of the goddamn Wicker Fan Club. Medicine cabinets in the bathroom? Wicker. Deck chairs on the patio? You guessed it. I think the toilet seats would be wicker if they'd thought they could get away with it. Assholes.
Shit, where was I? Oh yeah, trying to jerk off while staring at the nasty ceiling fan.
Why don't I just close my eyes and think of something else besides goddamn wicker, you ask? Well, smart guy, it's not that simple. You know how sometimes, you'll be getting into it, thinking of, I don't know, some hot babe you saw at the gym that week or that chick on the one TV show with the huge boobs, and all of a sudden something you absolutely don't find attractive sneaks its way into your fantasy and ruins everything? Like this: hot girl on the treadmill, hot TV girl, Mildred-the-middle-aged-Preventers-receptionist! And now, your jerk-off session is ruined by the knowledge that you were thinking about Mildred, who is probably old enough to be your grandmother, you perv.
I call those thoughts 'interlopers'. They just sneak up on you, and trying not to think about them only makes them stronger.
No, I'm not staring at my ceiling fan because I'm thinking about Mildred, Christ. It was just an example. Actually, the truth might be even worse. Lately, I've found myself unable to even begin to do the dirty deed without thinking of one particular person, no matter how much I don't want to.
Who is that person, you ask? Of course you'd want to know, wouldn't you? Shit. I'm embarrassed to even say it.
Look, I know it doesn't make sense, okay? I am surrounded by beautiful women at my job. Have you seen Agent Noin? On a one to ten scale, she is at least a twelve. I mean, the way that uniform fits on those hips... yeah, those broad shoulders... how that messy brown hair falls into those deep blue eyes... wait, stop!
Damn it, see what I mean? I have no control over it! Through no fault of my own, the only thoughts that come to my head are about none other than my partner at the agency and begrudging buddy, Heero Yuy.
I don't even know how it started, really. I swear, I didn't used to be like this. I used to be all about the ladies. So you can imagine my dismay when thoughts of Heero began unwillingly popping up in the middle of totally innocent masturbation fantasies. I mean, the guy is about as dudely as they come, long, lean lines all over his body, strong, lithe muscles running down his arms...
Damn it! There it goes again. It ain't right, I tell you. The guy is my best friend, for God's sake! What would he think if he knew I was thinking about him during times like this?
What would he think? He'd probably be mortified. Actually, hell, I don't know, maybe he wouldn't care.
Maybe he'd like it. Hm... maybe he'd ask if he could join in next time... yeah...
Shit, that was a close one. Almost lost it there. That would be awkward, huh? I'd never be able to look him in the eye again.
It's not like I, you know, like the guy or anything. Sure, we're friends, but sometimes it's like I'm talking to a damn wall. I'll make a joke, a real zinger, and he'll just look at me like I sneezed right on him or something. No sense of humor at all.
All right, I'm being a little unfair. Despite what some people may think, he's not a total wax statue, though he can do a damn good impression of one sometimes. He has emotions, he just doesn't betray them with facial expressions all too often. It can be a little difficult to be his friend, but hell, I like a challenge. And when I actually get him to smile, rare though it may be, and all those frowny lines in his forehead go away and his blue eyes crinkle up at the corners and he flashes those pearly whites at me, it feels like I just won the freaking lottery! It feels awesome, I've gotta say. It feels so... right.
Woah. Shit. I was trying to argue I wasn't attracted to him, wasn't I? Hm. Well.
Christ.
This is bad, isn't it? I mean, Heero doesn't have problems with things like this. He would never freak out over a little thing like jerking off thinking about his best buddy. Who would be... me.
Wonder if he's ever done it. Thought about me while touching himself, that is.
No way, I shouldn't go there. These are supposed to be thoughts I don't want. I'm supposed to be fantasizing about the boobs on the TV and Noin at the gym. Or was it Noin on the TV and boobs at the gym? In any case, I shouldn't be encouraging the interlopers.
But still... what if he has? What if he has laid down on his bed, just like this, Heero Jr. in hand, and thought about me?
Nah, no way. Not Heero. He'd never think about me while he slid his hand up and down, slowly working up a rhythm, bringing himself closer and closer to climax... my name definitely wouldn't be on his lips as he panted from the exertion, body taut and trembling, hand pumping faster and faster... Mmm... he definitely wouldn't imagine that it was my hands touching him, working him, expertly bringing him to the absolute brink before sending him hurtling into orgasmic ecstacy... oh God... Heero...!
Damn. That was... uh... intense. And fast. Wow. I... uh... yeah. I think I need a minute.
Well, I think it's safe to say that the cat is out of the bag. That was no mere interloper. That was a full blown fantasy. And wow, what a fantasy. Christ. Even the wicker fan looks kind of sexy in the afterglow.
I guess it's not the worst thing in the world. Sure, it'll be a little embarrassing tomorrow at the office, but it's not hurting anyone, right? Right? I like the guy. There, I said it. I like Heero. Like I said, I'm a sucker for a challenge. Besides, he has a nice smile. And nice eyes. And a nice ass. A really nice ass. I can appreciate all of that in secret, right?
It's not like I'm ever going to tell Heero any of this.
Well...
'Ever' is kind of a strong choice of words. A little too final, in my humble opinion. You know me, I never lie. So, I'll just say this.
I won't tell him any of this.
Not yet, at least.
The End
I am maybe 3/5 through this horror fic, in terms of pacing, probably 1/2 :( But I have to start this other fic I agreed to write for the advent calendar, which means I have to put the horror one on hold with the other one on hold. SIGH. I need a better rate of return than ~4 pages a day.