title: Spotlight
fandom: Gundam Wing
characters/pairings: Heero/Duo, Trowa, Quatre, Wu Fei, Relena, Zechs
rating: Teen
warnings: public sex
summary: Heero is compelled to round out his relationship with Duo.
notes: sunhawk made me do it. *pouts* initially written for P.L. Nunn's (and Moments of Rapture's) "Duo as Seme" fanfic contest, but alas, 'twas not meant to be. again, *against* my will!! *pouts harder*

At first, everything is dark. There's a hum in the audience as they wait, fifty thousand people holding their breath and at the edges of their seat.

The spotlight floods down on him, and for a moment, the light is too bright to see anything but shadow. The guitar rips through the stadium, and it's just his fingers on the strings, it's the only thing there is.

Then he lifts his head, his messy bangs now out of the way, his face carved from rock, and he starts to sing.

Sound fills everything.

Light follows, and slowly, the rest of the band is visible. It starts in the back, on Quatre, and he winks at the audience as his hands fly over the keyboards. He has three back there with him, and somehow, he manages to play all of them, at least a bit. Then, to his left, yellow light showcases Trowa, his laconic stance, and his bass. Next, the area off to the side gets illuminated, just in time for Fei's mad drums to start.

Finally, the stage to the right gets flooded, and Duo sings the refrain with him.

Their eyes meet for a second, across the stage, across the sound, and for a second, it's more than just their voices melding, it's them, and they are one.

Then Duo winks at him, and turns to the audience.


And it's one hell of a show.

Gundam Wing has been on the top of the charts for months for a reason, and every screaming, dancing, singing fan knows why.


They just ooze it, onstage, on their cds, in person, everywhere. Quatre is the fashion plate, with his purple leopard print trench with black fur collar, and no shirt. Fei is the dragon, wearing a black leather vest and dog collar. Trowa is the tall, silent one, but he moves like a panther, wearing a shirt made out of stripes of vinyl.

Heero is the lead, and he wears ripped black jeans, and a deadly expression. Everyone wants a piece of him.

His eyes are on Duo as much as possible, on Duo's hair, swinging over his back, only half tied in the familiar brain, the rest just spilling in a long tail, on Duo's agile hips as they keep time with the music with moves that would make a grandmother faint, on Duo's arms, as they cradle his guitar, his fingertips caressing the strings like they would a lover's most sensitive spots.

Watching Duo on stage was like watching Duo have sex, and Heero loved both, as long as he was an active participant.

Heero felt his nerves unjangling by the end of the third song. He was made to be on stage, not because he loved it like Duo did. Not because he soaked up the light and turned every motion into an orgasm of public pleasure, like Duo. Only because it was what he was made for, and he was most complete when he was here, in the spotlight, a hundred thousand eyes on him, and his music filling everything...

By the fifth song, he was feeling in his stride. For the rest of the concert, he could be a god, in control of what everyone thought and felt. He could be the center of a universe he had made.

He could be the music.

And Duo... Duo could be his muse. He could feel it swelling in him, as each song built to it, and then, they were at the ninth song, and Duo danced over to him. Duo slung his guitar behind his back, and put his arms around Heero. For sixteen measures, they rocked back and forth together, while fifty thousand fans screamed.

There was nothing like having sex on stage.

He never watched while Duo and Trowa danced. He lowered his head, and made his guitar into an angel, wailing its lament to the universe.

It never lasted long enough. Even as foreplay went, it was too damn short. Before he could even catch his breath, he was backstage, his hands on Duo, his mouth on Duo, ignoring Relena telling him that it was time to get out there for the encore...

He pulled on Duo's lip as they broke apart, his eyes fixed on Duo's eyes, and the smile that was twinkling there in their inky depth.

Nothing like the second go...

The show ended too quickly. Like a premature climax... Heero was ready to go on for another hour, at least. But it was always like this. They had gotten too big for those go all night bar shows, and not big enough to break all the rules yet, so instead, they did the after concert thing. A party with the press, and nothing could be more boring. Watching Duo pose for pictures with ecstatic fans, watching Duo flirt with that reporter from Rolling Stone who wore her hair too damn short, watching their press agent, Zechs, put his arm around Duo, watching Duo squeeze in next to Trowa for a picture...

He grunted his way through some questions, sipping his Corona with lethal intensity. No, his song "Hands on You" was not about anyone in particular... No, the message in "Mine Never Mind" wasn't for anyone... He wrote from his heart, based on his whole life, so "Cover You" wasn't about any particular ex-girlfriend...

All the questions were pre-planned. That's what people didn't know. They got them all ahead of time, and practiced their answers. They knew them all by heart before they even met the people who would ask them. The crafted their own image carefully.

This way, he never told anyone how he wrote all of his songs for Duo. That his first song, "Break Me In" was intended to woo Duo away from his previous band. That "Torture Chamber" was all about watching Duo break it off with his boyfriend at the time. That every song he wrote was another layer of his obsession, and that he always had to have Duo in his line of sight, that he didn't trust anyone around Duo, and that he would throw it all aside if it ever got in the way of being with his lover...

No one needed to know any of that.

No one wanted to know any of that, according to Relena, and she had taken them from the back alleys to the front page, so they should listen to her. That's what everyone said, even Duo.

But he didn't like being across the whole room from Duo, with all this energy inside of him, and no way to get it out, at least until they could get away here...

Relena marshaled the fans and the press and the roadies made a path for them to get to the bus. As always, Heero was the first one on. Quatre followed, only after Zechs removed the giggling young lady they hoped was at least 18 from his arms. Fei came on next, already on his cell phone to his girlfriend back home. His Mandarin was fast, and musical. Trowa loafed on next, smirking as he passed Heero.

Duo was always last. Heero knew this, and was patient. But this time while he couldn't see Duo always made Heero a little crazy, and he counted the time off between when Trowa entered the bus, and when he finally heard Duo sing-songing goodbye to their loyal fans.

Heero snagged him by the waist as he walked by, and pulled him down into his arms. Duo smiled at him before he kissed him. He loved that smile. It was his smile, damn it, and he loved it, absolutely.

Duo's kisses were his kisses, and Duo's skin was his skin, and if he was made for being on stage, than Duo was made for being his.

Heero pulled Duo down, and slipped his hands under Duo's shirt. His skin, his lips, his tongue, his...

"My god, you are hot tonight..." Duo winked.

"You are," Heero panted. "You. Mine."

"Yes, yes, monosyllabic one... I'm yours, and you... are you mine?" Duo ran his nails over Heero's skin, and Heero felt his blood boil.

"Always yours, my wild one." Heero nearly ate Duo up, he'd been wanting to feast on Duo all night, since the lights first snapped on, until now... Heero started to nibble on Duo's ear. He felt the bus start to move, he knew that Relena was talking, but that wasn't important to him...

Duo was important. Duo was always important.

"I want you in me..." Heero whispered, partly because it was true, he did want to feel it, but mostly because of the way Duo's eyes would widen and his mouth would shrink when Heero said something unexpected.

This was his as well.

Duo started to grin, wickedly, the devil himself would have been proud of that grin, were he savvy enough to ever grin it. "Right now? My god, you are a whore for an audience, aren't you?"

For a moment, Heero is thrown, because he wasn't expecting that, but he never knows what to expect from Duo, and he worked overtime at keeping Duo from expecting anything from him.

Relena is droning on about something. Quatre is pouting about his lack of sex life, making rude comments to Relena about her lack of participation in his efforts to get laid. Trowa is being quiet in a rather conspicuous way, so that everyone knew that he was being quiet. Fei was still on the phone with his woman, his Mandarin sounding much less musical now that he was using it to curse at her.

And Duo was stripping down to his skin, and teasing Heero with his beautiful eyes. Heero touched Duo's skin, and marveled at how lucky he was. People used to call him the Ice Man. People used to say all sorts of things about him. But he sang to Duo, and Duo's eyes sparkled at him, and this is what happened. Four years later, they were going to fuck in a bus with their band mates, their manager, their overeager press agent, and about fifteen roadies.

Duo undid the buttons on Heero's jeans, and peeled them off of him, slowly. He kissed Heero's skin as he bared it, and let his hair touch the inside of Heero's thighs. He leaned down, and chewed on Heero's ear, and told him naughty things that didn't really mean anything, but made Heero's heart pound anyway.

Relena may have cried out, and maybe there was chatter, but Heero was suddenly nervous, and Duo was, too, judging from the way his fingers were shaking as they pushed into Heero's body. And maybe this was the best way to do it, then, because Heero was always better before an audience. He held onto Duo's hair, and stared into Duo's eyes, and fixated on the way Duo was biting his lip as he moved inside of Heero...

Moving inside of him, and it was like the music inside of him, Duo inside of him, and he kept grasping at Duo's face, at his skin, because, because, he needed, damn it, fuck it all and back again, needed all of him, his, his Duo...

He wasn't expecting the climax, wasn't expecting it to hit him so hard. Wasn't sure why he thought it would be so different from this end. Wondered what it felt like for Duo, but from the taste and the heat of Duo's kisses, it couldn't have been that bad. Must have been pretty damned good.

Worth an encore, maybe.

There was cheering, too. He didn't know who was watching, though he could have sworn Duo winked at someone he would assume was Trowa. He wouldn't think about that, though. It wasn't productive, not like burying his fingers in Duo's hair. Not like licking Duo's finger clean after they had slid over his chest.

A blanket fell on top of them, and Duo said something to their benefactor, but Heero blocked it out.

He tightened his arms around Duo, and fell asleep with his face in Duo's hair.

His life on stage. There was nothing better...