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The Perfect Weapon
Chapter Two: Sweat Surrender
By Loyce
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Relena threw her bedroom door back into the frame. But even the loud, satisfying crash of the wood, could not quell her anger.

It still burned deep inside, fueled by the very idea of 'him'.

Trowa arched an eyebrow over his one visible eye, then started to follow her down the hallway. She sent him away with a sharp look. She was sure it rivaled the famous Yuy death glare, considering he held up his hands and drifted back into the shadows.

She felt her hair bob from side to side as she marched down towards the exercise room. It was too late for her to take out her aggravation by doing laps in the pool, so she would have to vent her frustration another way.

Relena slid down the banister of the main staircase, something that if Pagan would have been awake to see, would have elicited a censuring look from him. Rolling her eyes, she passed by the grand banquet hall and main study. She rounded the corner, and passed the library before she came to a small door, tucked away from the rest of the mansion. Pulling open the latch, Relena flicked on the lights and strode into the room.

It couldn't quite be called a gym, but it had all the equipment she needed. One wall was nothing but mirror, flanked with a ballet bar. A television hung in one corner of the room, while the stair stepper, treadmill, and an all-in-one weight machine were gathered around it, so she could keep updated on the latest news during her work out. But her favorite piece of equipment was the punching bag. Placing the water bottle on a nearby stool, she picked up the roll of athletic tape and began wrapping it around her wrists.

Did he need a special invitation? Should I have called up to the booth and said 'Come down here and make love to me.'? Taking off all her clothing, basically in front of him, should have gotten some type of response, but he had remained silent. Was he really that stubborn that he'd refuse a wanton woman?

Apparently.

She could just picture him sitting up there, laughing - well, smirking - knowing damn well that he wasn't going to give in to her desires. Everything she had done was for naught. The only response she had gotten out of him was that stupid smirk the day after she bought her first piece of lingerie.

Never in her life had she been more embarrassed.

Relena picked up the old boxing gloves and slipped her hands into the soft leather. Hitting the button on her stereo, she cranked up the volume and let the comforting sounds of heavy metal music bounce of the walls. She strolled over to the bag, and like so many times before, his face appeared on the heavy canvas – with blue eyes gleaming above a condescending smile. She drew her right arm back like she was compressing a spring, then let it loose. Relena threw her whole body into the force of the punch, then swung with her left arm. She began to beat the unsuspecting bag within an inch of its life.

Her leg connected with the side of the target and sent it off to her right. She blocked the return swing with a straight arm. Both of her fists hit the hard canvas of the punching bag at the same time, sending the powder covering the bag dancing across the floor and herself.

'Lingerie is the answer to your problems.'

The 'advice' that Dorothy had uttered came back to haunt her. Fate had meddled enough in her life when she locked them in the shelter together, allowing them to give into the base needs that had been stewing below the surface for so long. And then Fate struck again when she delivered the sliver-tongued woman into her office later that week - with a knowing smile on her face. It made Relena think of how many times Dorothy had used the closet in her workspace for just the same thing.

So when Relena had arrived into the office the next day, she found a catalogue lying on top of an important draft stopping a diplomatic trade embargo. At first she tossed it aside; but then its glossy cover called her name. That night, she found herself with enough courage to flip through the pages and dared to order at first, one thing and then more. And more.

A bunch of nothing is what it turned out to be. The game had gone on long enough and she was no longer willing to play.

Pulling her attention off her thoughts, Relena focused on the punching bag, determined to vent the anger that had built up inside of her. She attacked the sack with a vengeance, her muscles screaming in protest as she continued her workout. Covered in sweat, wayward strands of hair plastered to her neck and face, Relena leaned against the bag for support as she tried to catch her breath. Once she had calmed her breathing, she moved over to the stool, pulled off her gloves, grabbed the bottle, and chugged the rest of the cool water.

She wiped a few stray drops of water from her mouth with the back of her hand and crushed the thin, plastic bottle with her fingers. The crinkling noises it made were drowned out by the music still pouring from the stereo. Frustration, mainly sexual, still flowed through her veins. It surged when she felt the tiny hairs at the base of her head stand up on end. She hurled the deformed bottle in the direction of the door. Just as she expected: it never hit the floor.

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of turning around. Instead, Relena lifted the towel to her face, wiping the thin layer of sweat from her brow. "I don't have anything to say to you."

"Relena."

Her hold on the towel tightened and linen strained under the pressure she exerted. Relena sent a disapproving look over her shoulder. "I'm busy at the moment, Mr. Yuy. I'm sure any issues you have can be discussed tomorrow morning." Dismissing him with the turn of her head, she continued to wipe the sweat from her neck and shoulders.

She could feel those blue eyes caressing the curves of her back, causing her blood to pump faster. Whether it was anger or arousal, she wasn't exactly sure. She bent over and rubbed the terry cloth fabric lightly over her legs, but had to stop herself from looking out of the corner of her eye to see if she was having any affect on him. Even if she was still mad at him, Relena couldn't stop herself from torturing him a little more.

The CD ended and the stereo whirred as it switched disks. The room was filled with a pregnant silence between them. During that time, she heard him drop the water bottle in the trashcan and then the sound of his heavy boots treading across the hard wood floor. Growling, she straightened her posture; the muscles along her cheek flexed as she ground her teeth. She didn't want to have this confrontation here, or now - not when she hadn't thought of a plan of attack and her emotions were still running hot.

A loud guitar rift shattered the heavy silence. She jumped back, accidentally closing the small distance between them. Her back pressed against a very hard and warm body. Every fiber in her body went on alert at the feel of him so close to her. Parts of her wanted to melt into him, give into that heat he was producing, while the part that was still mad wanted to punish him - by rubbing up against him and arousing him even further.

Instead, she denied both warring factions within her traitorous body and moved away from him, heading back over to the punching bag. She was about to toss the towel at the stool when she heard him, barely above the blaring rock music: "I should have taken Trowa's advice and brought the handcuffs."

Spinning on her heel, she launched the sweat-drenched towel at him instead. The assault caught him off guard and Relena couldn't help her smug smile of satisfaction as it hit him square in the face.

He sputtered, but Relena ignored him and turned up the stereo. Then she returned to pounding out her frustration on the canvas bag, forgoing the use of her gloves.

"You're dropping your arm too much. Lowering your defense is a mistake in strategy. You'll get hurt."

Lifting her eyes off her focal point, she narrowed her gaze towards him and blew at a stray piece of her hair. " I didn't ask for your opinion..." Her right fist connected with the bag. "I remember asking you to leave..." Powder flew from the bag and sprayed his uniform jacket with fine particles of resin. "But you just don't listen do you?" Bringing up her knee, she slammed it into the secondary 'X' that had been taped down at a lower level on the bag, and sent it directly at Heero.

He caught the bag with minimal effort, though his eyes had widened when he saw her hit 'below the belt.' "I listen. And observe." Heero paused. "What exactly have you been trying to prove, Relena?"

"Prove?" Her voice took on an innocent air. "I'm not trying to prove anything." Tearing the bag from his hands, she reset her stance and went back to ignoring him while punching the bag.

The room crackled with the tension between them and, out of spite, she kicked the bag towards him again.

This time, instead of catching the bag, he let it swing back at her, making her block the back swing and take her attention off him. With the stealth like speed she'd come to know from him, he rounded the bag and caught her arm, his eyes blazing. She'd once been told that when a fire got too hot, the flames would turn from orange to blue. If that was true, it was surprising that she hadn't been burnt from the scowl he was sending her.

"Let go, Heero. Or I'll do something we'll both regret..." Turning her face away, she hoped to regain some of her composure. But failed miserably.

"Then what is it you're trying to do to me?"

Rounding on him, she gave him the full weight of her anger and frustration. "Do to you?!" She ripped her arm from his ironclad grasp and rubbed the slight red imprint of his hand. "The same damn thing you did to me! Do you think it was any fun, standing there, watching you walk away from me after..."

"I've had to watch you gradually become less and less clothed over the last 2 weeks." The tone of his voice frightened and excited her at the same time. "And then there was last night. What kind of games are you playing?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared back at him. "You started this war. I'm only playing by your rules."

His eyes narrowed and the muscle along his jaw flexed. "There is no war, Relena."

Throwing her hands up in the air, she advanced on him. "Then what you do you call the past three years? A walk in the park? We've been trying out-do each other since you took on the duty of being my bodyguard. Only recently, the war took on a sexual tone."

"Fine. If we're at war, Relena, then end it."

"What do you think I was trying to do last night?!"

Blocking the arm he tried to grab her with, she took hold of his wrist and twisted it behind him. Her leg shot out and tripped him, sending Heero face first into the mat. It appeared to knock the wind out of him. Relena bent over and flipped her bodyguard onto his back. She couldn't believe that she had managed to catch him off his guard. Sometimes, she was still able to amaze
herself.

"At least, I know you've been paying attention to my lessons."

Relena straddled his body, sank down and sat on his chest. "I told you that you would regret it." Her tennis shoes bit into the fabric of his uniform jacket as she applied a little amount of pressure to his outstretched arms, pinning him beneath her. "Even a blind man could have seen that I was giving you an open invitation, Heero." She hung her head. "Maybe I should've opened the door last night and asked Trowa to offer me some sort of release."

For the slightest moment, she could have sworn the colors of jealousy and rage mingled in his blue eyes. He growled through his clenched teeth, while his hands balled into tight fists. "Like Hell."

Shaking her head, she glanced at the mirrors on the far wall. Their position was laughable, though too many nights had been plagued with dreams with him pinned to the floor. And then it struck her: He wasn't making her move or struggling to get out from underneath her.

In the reflection of the mirror, she caught sight of him. His eyes were focused on one of her legs, and she watched his gaze traveled up its length. The weight of his stare felt like a lover's caress.

She turned back to face him, waiting for his eyes to stop their torturous journey along her body. Finally, his gaze locked with hers, and his cheeks glowed with a hint of color.

Scooting back, Relena repositioned her body; the bulge in his pants rubbed against her inner thigh. Her hands plastered themselves against his jacket. She leaned forward, never breaking eye contact as she inched closer to his face. Her nose brushed against the tip of his, and yet, he still didn't stir from beneath her.

'Tell me you want me.' Her eyes silently demanded.

Even though his body contradicted him, his narrowed gaze spoke volumes. 'Never.'

Sending him a challenging look, she pulled back and reached for the zipper on his jacket. Her feet moved back to their original position, pinning his arms at his sides as the room was filled with the metal teeth being rent apart.

There was something to be said about a man in uniform. In the glaring light of the gym, the white shirt that was buried behind the jacket blinded her, especially against his dark colored skin. Not a sound was uttered in protest as she ran her fingers along his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles through the material. Slowly, she worked her hands down towards the waistband of his pants, and began pulling the t-shirt free.

She edged it up his body, exposing his skin an inch at a time. When she had cleared the expanse of his sculpted chest, her fingers released their unsteady grip on his shirt, and touched his warm skin. Heero hissed at the contact of her cool fingers as they trailed up and down his body, as if memorizing each line, scar, and ticklish spot along her way.

Relena's hands roamed down his stomach; she smiled as she slid her thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, teasing the sensitive skin hidden just beneath the clothing. Fingers that had fumbled with the button and zipper on his pants only weeks before, now unfastened them with practiced ease. As she crept down his legs, Heero lifted his hips to allow Relena to work at the rough material and pushing them down further. While she freed him from the confines of his pants, she leaned forward to place whisper soft kisses down the length of his torso.

A ragged breath escaped from his throat as Relena took him into her mouth. Her tongue and mouth danced along his rigid arousal, sending an overload of sensations throughout his body. His hands fisted in her silky hair as she continued her sweet torture, pulling strands out of the ponytail. The corners of her mouth turned upward, forming the beginnings of a devilish smile. Taking a deep breath, she leaned farther forward, swallowing him deeper. The harsh whisper of her name echoed in the small room.

She continued the pleasing torment, until Heero grabbed hold of her ponytail and dragged her away from his body. Glancing at him from under heavy eyelids, she took in his features. His eyes were clenched shut and his chest rose and fell with every ragged breath; his mouth was parted, an open invitation to plunder what he offered.

Like a panther on the prowl, Relena crawled back up his body, making contact with his skin whenever she could; be it a touch or a kiss. When she finally reached his face, she took her hands and ran them the length of his arms, pulling them up over his head. She smiled - he wasn't protesting or fighting against the somewhat submissive stance.

Her knees hugged his hips, her chest pressed to his, and she could feel the hard length of his erection through the thin material. Relena held her lips just above his, waiting for him to open his eyes before she continued any further. She could already feel him giving in to the power she held. Shifting her weight and tilting her hips, she demonstrated just how much control she had over his aroused body. A groan washed over her lips as his lids opened, revealing blue eyes that were nearly black with pent-up passion.

Heero lifted his wrists, and tried to force himself up, but she dug her heels deeper into his hips and ground her body against him. When he stopped struggling, she lessened the pressure. His hips arched off the floor, seeking to maintain their contact. Her mouth descended, and teased kisses from his lips - stopping only for a quick nibble now and then. Heero tried to capture her mouth with his own, but failed each time to make the kiss last longer than a fleeting second. A dangerous growl rumbled deep in his throat.

Her tongue darted out, licking his lips, causing him to groan under the assault. Taking advantage of his response, she closed her mouth on his, invading his warmth. Relena could feel the muscles in his arms bunch and constrict under her hands, and squeezing his wrists, she continued to keep him subdued. The kiss was bruising and consuming, but she wielded her control when she bit his bottom lip and pulled back - to his protest.

A blissful sigh escaped his lips as she moved back into a seated position, her full weight resting directly on top of him. Her hands released their firm grip on his wrists to trail along his stomach. Relena couldn't help but revisit the ticklish spots she had found with caresses as light as butterfly wings. The solid wall of muscle rippled with her touch.

While she was lost in watching his responses play upon his face, Heero moved his arms down to his sides. Relena felt his hands running up and down the soft skin of her legs. It was the first time since that afternoon in the closet that he had touched her, and Relena had to stop herself from melting against his hands.

Pushing his hands aside, she ignored his feral growl and started to toy with the hem of her tank top. At first, she gave him a small glance of the pale, hidden skin; but then she lifted the top higher, exposing the bottom swells of her breast. His eyes widened, as she started to pull the flimsy material up over her head – while keeping time with the music blaring in the background.

Her body responded to the blast of cool air, or was it the look flashing in his eyes?

This time she didn't stop his hands from moving up her legs, along the sides of her body, and finally cupping her breasts. He held them with such care, as if each one was a soap bubble, liable to break under the gentlest of touches. But his touch didn't remain gentle for long; soon he was molding the soft mounds, his battle roughened fingers biting into her. Each touch of his hand scalded her skin, leaving marks that would forever be embedded in her mind.

She craved his touch, needed it, desired it. This was what she had been missing since their seven minutes in that shelter. Heero massaged her hardened peaks between his fingers, and every once in a while he'd gently squeeze the sensitive flesh, making her moan - more out of pleasure than pain. Relena gasped when she felt his stomach contract under her hands as he forced himself up into a sitting position; his head fell against her collarbone. Warm, ragged breathes washed over her shoulder and ignited tingling sensations that ran throughout her body. In a matter of seconds, his lips covered the same skin his breath had tickled, trailing passionate kisses along the delicate area.

His head moved lower, his teeth scraping and nipping at her along the way, and left small red welts in his wake. A deep sigh echoed in the close space between them, and she wasn't sure if it had been her or Heero that moaned when he captured one of her nipples with this teeth. He lavished the swell with the attention of his mouth, licking and suckling her into a heated frenzy, while his hand continued to knead her other breast. She arched her back, demanding more, allowing his every action to stir the fires that burned inside.

Supported by his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, Relena's hands snaked over the cords of muscles hidden under his jacket sleeves, moving towards his neck. She played with the collar of his uniform, than she slipped her hands inside the heavy material and worked it off his shoulders then pushed it down to his elbows. A rumble of protest resounded in the back of his throat as she pushed him away from her body, long enough to rid him not only of his jacket, but the t-shirt as well.

The shirt had barely brushed against the hard wood floor before Heero's hungry mouth descended back onto her body. She caught a glimpse of her glazed expression in the mirror, as she watched her fingernails scour his back, heightening her arousal. The only barrier that remained between them was a damp, thin layer of fabric, which did little to stop the wild sensations from rocketing through her body as Heero thrust his hips against her.

Her hands fisted in the dark hair at the base of his head, and pulling him back, she broke the contact. With her firm grip still in place, Relena smiled and lowered her mouth back down to his. Unlike the possessive kisses they shared earlier, this one was motivated with a slow seduction. She'd never be able to forget the way he tasted; it was like champagne: sweet and heady at the same time, with bubbles that tickled your senses and an underlying hint of alcohol to further the addiction for more.

Tilting her head, Relena let her eyes close and reveled in the power of the sensations crashing over her. His hands roamed up and down her back, tracing her spine and each rib with his fingers, as if he was committing each inch of her to memory. Slowly, his hands moved lower, making her pulse skip when he took hold of the elastic band of her shorts and started pushing them off her hips.

He didn't get them far, considering their current position, but he was able to move them down enough so his callused fingers could caress the small of her back. Impatience won out and soon he was tugging at the material of her shorts. The tiny threads groaned and snapped along the seams under the pressure exerted by his strong hands. With deft movements, Heero pulled the shredded shorts from between them, allowing heat to spread through the lower part of her body.

How many nights in the past three weeks had she been teased with the idea of being pushed up against him, with no clothes and handcuffs to inhibit them? Every night.

His erection lay against her wet folds and she rocked her hips back and forth, testing the new position, eliciting a moan with each teasing movement. It was then that she heard his whispered plea, and decided to give them both what they had been craving and needing from the moment he walked into the gym.

She leaned forward on her knees, and brought her face down to his. Taking his lips with her own, she slowly pushed herself back onto his length. Relena could feel herself stretching to accommodate the intrusion of his body into hers. Her eyes held his the entire time she coaxed her body into accepting his.

Heero's hands fisted at his sides as she began moving up and down, working more of him into her body. Sitting up, she laid her hands flat against his chest to use his body for support. She continued to move over him, adding more fuel to the raging wildfire that consumed every inch of her being.

Nothing else in the world existed beyond the small space they occupied, though the feelings coursing through her made her feel like she owned the entire planet. He hissed as her body finally accepted every inch of his hardened shaft, leaving them fused together. Her legs hugged his body, while his hands clenched onto her hips; his fingers firm, but not painful, he held her body firm against him. Unable to control herself, she answered each of his thrusts with one of her own, as both of their bodies strained together for the final release.

It came upon her so fast and hard, she hadn't been prepared for its onslaught. Her head snapped back, her nails bit into the skin of his chest as quaking tremors passed through her, like lightning bolts during a summer storm. He continued to drive deeper and faster, and the familiar pressure swelled inside her once again. Heero twisted underneath her body and surged into her one more time. With a shout, he filled the room with the sounds of his surrender. And with his, she found her climax for the second time, shattering her world into a thousand fragmented pieces.

As if planned by Fate herself, the music ended. The gym fell into an eerie silence that was only interrupted by the occasional gasp, sigh or gulp of air. It took her a few moments to collect her breath, and her thoughts. After her second orgasm, she had collapsed against him, the sweat of his body mingling with hers. Most of her hair covered them like a blanket, having come loose during their frantic bout of sex.

Lifting her head, she reached up with an unsteady hand and brushed the hair from her face. "You owe me a new pair of shorts."

"Take it out of my paycheck."