By Zapenstap

A month was a long time to wait and speculate. 

At eleven o'clock on a Thursday morning, Relena set aside her notes and tried to relieve her stress by cleaning her desk. Frustration caused her to slam the stapler and she fought back the urge to throw something when she banged her knee against an open drawer. If she had been someone to swear, obscenities would have issued from her mouth, but all she did was stamp her foot on the floor and bite her lip.

Her proposal had been voted down this morning. She had thought it a brilliant proposal, revolutionary even, but maybe she hadn't spent enough time on the details of the assignment, hadn't gone on enough luncheons, paid a visit to enough senators, entertained enough lobbyists. It was reasonable that she would be disappointed that it had been voted down, but she really didn't understand why she was so emotional about it. It wasn't the first time a proposal of hers had been rejected or delayed, and it was certainly not the first obstacle she had run across during her career, but for some reason she had found herself becoming increasingly sentimental the last few weeks… about everything. And she knew if she thought about it that the heart of it had to do more with Heero than her work.

She loved him. He was growing on her, melding to her, and the fusion of her soul with his was both natural and terrifying. She wanted reassurances. She was finding she needed him emotionally in ways she had never needed anyone before. She caught herself unreasonably expecting him to understand every thought in her head and wanting him to share every thought in his. She obsessed about him while she showered and dressed and worked and basically contemplated him whenever and wherever she was alone. She wasn't sure it was natural to be so concerned and inquisitive, but she knew part of it had to do with her uneasiness over their emotional and physical relationship.

If Heero's thoughts and feelings was guarded territory, his sense of personal space around her had changed dramatically during the last month. In the beginning, and in all the days she had known him, Heero had always seemed standoffishness and self-contained, hard to approach and difficult to get close to. As their platonic relationship over the years became more comfortable there had been moments of closeness where he had allowed her to be near to him, but within the past few weeks he had never passed on an opportunity to hold her or cuddle with her or embrace her. At any opportune moment he would bury his head in her shoulder or wrap his arms around her waist, never speaking and usually without warning. His lap was his favorite place for her to sit, he seemed to like hugs more than kisses and that was all quite aside from the times they spent together in bed.

She flushed at that thought, her hand poised above the drawer into which she was depositing some pens. Heero's comfort with sex wasn't at all like she would have anticipated before their relationship had changed. Where she still blushed over what they did, he offered and asked for it shamelessly. Once it was out there, no second thoughts or hesitations seemed to occur to him as it did to her. Almost every night he caressed her in bed until she yielded, touching her and whispering his desires until she responded in kind. His fingertips stirred her blood. His lips seared her skin. When she yielded she did so with pleasure, but she wasn’t always comfortable about it, especially when it came down to what he wanted most often. Giving him oral sex was sometimes empowering in the way it seemed to put him completely in her control, but thinking about it made her either want to smirk or hide her head in embarrassment. On the flip side, it wasn't always successful on her end, but even with the difficulty of her body being harder to please than his, she still couldn't stop desiring him. Her shame wasn't enough to stop; it just annoyed her. In truth, she wanted more. The time between now and the night they had set aside for the full sexual experience seemed to be passing both too quickly and too slowly. There was only a day left.

In the course of the month Relena had lost her fear of Heero's body and her own. She liked getting out of her clothes and stripping him out of his, and she loved the ways he warmed her up when she was cold. It was true that Heero didn't have much experience, but he wasn't young enough to be clumsy out of fear of that inexperience, if Heero had any fears, and Relena was old enough to know what she needed and brave enough to ask for it. They managed to please each other most of the time. However, she was aware that first times were not often glorious. Though she didn't relay her thoughts to Heero out of fear of pressuring him, she had no expectations. She didn't expect to even enjoy it really, but because everything else was so good, this first time where it probably wouldn't be wholly pleasurable didn't bother her. She didn't want to bother Heero with her thoughts on the matter; she didn't want to spoil it for him. She wanted to get that first time over with.

She just wished he were comfortable enough to tell her how he felt, to explain verbally what she sensed in his caresses and smiles and gestures. She wasn't sure what was making her so emotional about it, why she was so needy. Maybe it was just the way she felt about him, the growing feelings that were so scary and so wonderful and confusing as all hell that she wanted to talk them over with him. What with that and the stress she was undergoing at work in conjunction with the mere hours she had left to prepare herself for her big night with Heero… Well, she allowed herself the luxury of over-sensitivity. It would ease her mind to relieve herself of the words she locked in her heart, and also to hear them returned, but she didn't need it right now at his discomfort. The one time she had almost spoken them came the morning after their return from her mother's house. She had felt happy and awkward and shy and even a little ashamed of all that had happened the day before. Perhaps sensing her distress, Heero had repeated the adventure from the night before and then relieved her fears with reassurances, insisting that he had never been happier in his life, and that he fantasized about her too. She remembered then that in her fantasy Heero had told her he loved her, and even suggested marriage. Naked under the sheets, staring up at him while he caressed her back and kissed her body, she was surprised to find herself trembling. Without thinking, she had blurted out in a whisper, "Heero, I think I…." But there had been such bewilderment in his eyes and she had been so scared that she couldn't finish. Love you.

Confession. Someday he would be ready for it. There was still a wildness about Heero that she was afraid to tame; she feared that he might run away if he felt shackled. She wasn't going to let her selfishness ruin all the good they had by demanding that he deal with that all of a sudden. It must be so hard for him, considering how little experience he had with any kind of relationships. She had confidence that he would tell her when he was ready. There was no need for impatience. If Heero could wait for her to be ready to commit physically--and he had been so caring and so patient--she could wait for him to be ready to commit emotionally. It was so much easier for her after all, wanting both sex and love and being afraid of neither. She could do her best to understand where he was coming from. It was only fair.

She just wished that all that reasoning didn't make her feel so fragile and sensitive. Her emotions were up and down. She sometimes felt crazy, emotionally frayed and even the tiniest little disturbances could set her off. She was always weighing and judging him. It was silly. He would laugh if he knew. She would just have to force herself to stop analyzing his behavior in order to guess at his feelings. She brushed tears from her cheeks angrily. She didn't even know what she was crying about.

The knock on her door surprised her.

"Miss Darilan?" her secretary's voice came through pleasantly. "Heero Yuy is here to speak with you. He doesn't have an appointment in my book, but…"

"Oh, it's all right," Relena said professionally, but her heart leapt inside her chest, her misgivings swallowed in sudden, unexplainable elation. "I have a bit of time. Send him in."

For some unfathomable reason, Heero in the flesh banished the Heero of her thoughts like a tropical flashflood through snow. Alone she fretted about him, but when he walked into her eyesight all her sorrows and reservations and troubled musings became as ill-conceived shadows. He looked nothing but delicious to her. She knew she was just over-thinking things. Men always complained that women were too emotional. She wasn't going to be like that. She would just have to learn to stop. Smiling at him, she rose from her seat and he shut the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, stepping out from around her desk and taking several long strides toward him. He caught her up at the waist almost roughly, crinkling the material of her white blouse and pulling her close, tangling his fingers in her hair. It felt so good to be in his arms, to be held tightly to his body, to feel Heero Yuy's hands gripping her so possessively.

"I came to have lunch with you," he said. "I was thinking about you."

She knew what he was thinking about. Running the flat of her hand from his chest to his shoulder, she wrapped her hand around the back of the neck and raised herself up on her toes to kiss him on the mouth. His head lifted as their lips met, his breath exhaling into her as his hands tightened on her waist. She felt his tongue fill her mouth and kissed him back almost desperately, feeling even more possessive of him than he was of her. Without warning, violent emotions welled up in her throat from her chest and tears sprang to her eyes. She didn't know why. Choking, her kiss faltered and she fell from contact, dropping back on her heels. Mortified, she buried her face into his chest and wept, hating herself for it.

His arms went around her instantly and she felt him shift his balance to envelop her, sensing his surprise with nothing but annoyance at herself. "What's wrong?" he asked, thoroughly astonished.

She shook her head mutely, stilling her tears and swallowing her hiccups. She didn't know. All these fragmented feelings were stupid. They were driving her crazy. Idly, she toyed with the buttons on his shirt, relaxing under the pressure of his hands around her shoulders, taking comfort in the warmth and solidarity of his body.

"Relena?" His voice compelled her to speak.

"It's nothing," she said softly, broken by that tone in his voice, feeling so stupid and emotional, worrying about nothing like a hysterical woman. She didn't want to be that way. "I'm just stressed out. My proposal was rejected this morning. I just… I have a lot of thoughts in my head. I'm a little emotional. I'm sorry. I'm glad to see you."

He kissed the top of her head, his lips pressing into her hair. "I don't like to see you cry," he said. "Especially not now." His hands tightened on her waist and then slipped down to her rear, pulling her pelvis against his.

She swallowed, knowing what he meant. Pulling free, she stepped back a little and looked up at him, knowing that they were both thinking the same thing. 'Not now' because of what was soon to happen, what they both wanted to happen. She smiled, feeling a rush of heat flow through her body, and continued to play with his buttons, but in a different way. He touched her hair longingly, running his hand through it and watching it fall away like strands of silk slipping through his fingers. She closed her eyes, loving how it felt when he played with her hair, loving his presence, his quiet, his countenance… loving everything about him. "It's not that," she reassured him.

"You drive me crazy," he whispered. His hands caressed her shoulders and squeezed down her arms.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" she asked, knowing it was a question that would entice him.

"Hmm." His arms snaked around her hips, pulling her off her feet so that she half-crashed into him. His body was muscled and toned for all his slender build, and the ways he had filled out were good ones. His body wasn't perfect, but he was irresistible in spite of any flaws, and she felt the heat in her begin to pulsate as she dreamed of what it would be like to have him fully and completely. His hands explored her from her shoulders to her hips and she had to fight to keep from telling him to keep going. He avoided his favorite places, but she could tell from the catch in his breathing that it was difficult. Tomorrow they wouldn't stop. She didn't want to stop now.

He leaned forward and breathed hot air into her ear. "Are you ready," he whispered more with his breath than his vocal chords. She swallowed and shivered and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck and tantalizing him by pressing her body as close to his as she could get. He closed his eyes, rubbing against her, breathing into her ear, and murmured half-formed phrases about his desires and wants and needs.

"Tomorrow," she insisted, but she kissed his neck again, running her fingertips along his skin. The atmosphere in the room was getting uncomfortably hot.

The month they had waited had seemed like an eternity. The birth control she was on resulted in no noteworthy side effects and her period had ended yesterday. During the last four weeks she had been busy with work, but she had seen Heero every moment she could, and spent the night almost every night. Sometimes they did a lot sexually, but not always. There were many nights when they were just tired and talked in the darkness, or held each other, though Relena found it difficult to actually fall asleep in Heero's arms. She had never imagined that would be a problem before she had tried it, but she was just not used to sleeping so close to someone. Early evening and mornings were still good times for cuddling, and she often awoke to Heero grabbing her or caressing her and a few times that had led to more aggressive sexual activity. They didn't always do a lot sexually, but when they did it was impossible to say no to anything. Once they were naked, aroused and in each other's arms it was best to get each other to climax as quickly as possible. The anticipation for more was driving them both to continually seek out the other in bed. They didn't go out and do as much together as they used to, but she didn't really mind. She just wanted to be near him.

"Tomorrow," she repeated, and kissed him on the mouth with a chaste, fluttery brush of her lips against his.

"I got everything ready for what you want," he told her, and gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand in such a loving gesture that she closed her eyes and smiled.

She had asked for soft lighting, firelight or candles, a nice dinner to alleviate the tension and a clean room. She wanted it to be special, but she didn’t need a hotel or presents or wine or anything except his undivided attention and respect. Though she didn't say so, she didn't expect him to last long or demonstrate competent knowledge. She just wanted him to take his time if he could and not to worry about pleasing her as much as making her comfortable. She wanted low pressure and genuine concern and she wanted him to enjoy himself.

"Eight o'clock," she said, lowering her chin and playing again with his buttons. "Tomorrow I'll come over at eight."

"Not tonight?"

She shook her head. "I think a night of not seeing you will be good. And it will give me time to get all my work done. I don't want to have that to worry about tomorrow."

He nodded and kissed her again. "Lunch?" he suggested, shifting gears to the time he wanted to spend with her today.

She agreed. Knowing what was coming tomorrow, he did not need to pressure her now. And because she had planned it, she really didn't feel as nervous as she thought she might. She just wanted to get it over with. She wished she wasn't feeling like dealing with Heero's emotions was a like walk across eggshells, but at least by tomorrow night her anxieties about intercourse would be over. She took a deep breath at the thought and tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach. It wasn't nerves. It was just…the anticipation of taking things to the next level, of no longer being a virgin.

*****

Heero was on fire with anticipation and shaking with nerves. He calmed himself with routine distractions and tried not to spend all his hours fantasizing about Relena's naked body under his hands. But it was with swelling desire that at seven-thirty on Friday night he lit a fire in the hearth and candles on his shelves. He had aired out the room and changed the sheets, vacuumed and dusted and then closed the windows to trap the heat in so that she wouldn't be cold, as he expected both of them to be naked for as long as possible and she got cold so easily. If it became hot--and he hoped it would--he could open the window then.

He shivered, his stomach fluttering, blood coursing through his veins, tense and excited even before she arrived. She had not mentioned it, but he bought roses for his room, partly for the atmosphere and partly for the scent. He would let her take them home with her tomorrow. She said she wanted it to be special and he made an effort to give her whatever she asked for. He wasn't sure how well he was going to do, so the roses and the room and lightning were easy points it was best to take advantage of.

He put Ted outside, afraid the dog might bark or whine outside the door, and then spent several anxious minutes waiting and dreaming and trying to keep his arousal down to a minimum. Dinner was in the oven. The table was set. He'd taken a shower. The lightning was soft and fluid. Everything was exactly as she wanted. All he needed now was her.

When he heard her car door slam shut on the street, he bounded to his feet and answered the door before she finished walking up the stairs. She was wrapped in a long wool coat and a colorful scarf when he let her inside, her pale cheeks flushed pink with cold and her hair tucked under her coat where he couldn't see it. Welcoming her in, he shut the door lightly, took her coat from her shoulders, gathered her purse, her gloves and her scarf and tucked all of it away neatly in the closet. Underneath her coat she wore a simple skirt and a long-sleeved shirt that was cut to be elegant and modest but was tight across every inch of her upper body. He stared at her breasts and the contours of her stomach and the shape of her arms circumspectly. Her legs were smooth and slender, shining slightly and looking longer from the strappy heels that framed her feet. Sweet smells intoxicated his senses from her lotion and sprays and perfumes; it made him want to taste her skin for the sheer contrast of it.

"Hi," he said softly and darkly, not allowing a hint of his desperation to out him in his tone. She smiled at him, her eyes bright and clear and luminous, like a blue-sky morning after snow and her smile had a strange effect on him. It was like music. He leaned in to kiss her lips, tasting the candy lip-gloss that made them shine, and held her mouth to his for several seconds, jolted by the energy that coursed through him from the contact. He wanted her now, but he forced himself to relax.

He served her dinner by candlelight, having bought his first pair of candlesticks and white candles just for the occasion. His dishes were not nice china and he didn't have a tablecloth or even matching silverware, but he had spent a lot of time cooking dinner--something he was finding enjoyable--and the presentation was pleasing to the eye. He fed Relena french bread with butter, baby red potatoes and lightly salted steak with steamed vegetables and sparkling cider (she didn't want alcohol). He asked about her day and tried to relax into conversation, but instead found himself complimenting her and staring at her and trying to control the rising heat in his blood while she talked about provincial matters than passed him by.

After dinner they cleared the table and Relena abruptly excused herself to use the restroom. While she was gone, he raced to brush his teeth over a different sink and then hurried to meet her when he heard her moving about. They stared at each other for a moment in silence. He knew his face was red, though not from shame, and she was blushing too. Swallowing, he stepped close to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in the sweet scent of her hair. He kissed her throat, immediately aroused, and closed his eyes.

"I want you," she said, and he could hardly contain himself.

"Bedroom?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

She nodded and he led her to the bedroom, shutting the door softly while she exclaimed softly over the candles and the roses. He barely let her finish, stepping in close and stripping her out of her clothes, watched without breathing as her shirt came over her head, revealing the length of her bare body inch by torturous inch. The shadows and candle flame did striking things to her body, and the sight of her curves and straight lines flickering in and out of the light did other things to his. He ran his hands along her ribs and around her stomach before she had flung her shirt away, and then hooked his fingers in the waistband of her skirt in order to slide it down over her hips. Underneath her clothes she was wearing lingerie, and his eyes ate up the sight of her as her breasts heaved under a bra of red satin and lace that was admittedly striking. But after a glance all he wanted was to take it off. His hands massaged her breasts, digging under and around the lace, and then slid behind her back to unclasp the thing and get rid of it. He planted kisses on her collarbone, holding and caressing her, murmuring how soft and smooth she was before taking off her underwear. She didn't object, stepping out of them obediently, and she stood before him naked and waiting while he hurriedly went to work on unbuttoning his own clothes and freeing himself from their confinement. He felt like a furnace and fought to contain himself.

She escaped his embrace long enough to sit down on the bed, slipping under the sheets, and he chased her as soon as he was undressed, wrapping his arms about her shoulders and pulling her back to him, turning her around. His legs tangled with hers as he lined himself up against to her, rubbing her naked body everywhere he could touch. From neck to toes, her bare skin was like silk. His lips touched her breasts and his hands caressed her hips, running along her thighs and then between her legs. She made a soft sound like a plea as he slipped his hand up. She was breathing heavily and he felt her hands on his back, urging him to get closer, insisting for him to lie on top of her. He obliged, driven by the roaring fire that raged through his body. She gasped and called to him in a rising crescendo as he worked his fingers into her, rocking her pelvis against him until eventually she came.

"Are you ready?" he whispered as she settled down. His blood was still hot. He hadn't allowed her to touch him for fear of not being able to make it through. He wanted to be inside her. He had been anticipating it for so long. He didn't think he'd last long enough at this rate. "Relena." It was a desperate petition. He kissed her ear and bit lightly at the lobe, allowing hot breath to stimulate her as he shifted his position. He was hard against her inner thigh, fighting to hold back.

"We're really going to do it," she said, and he noted a slight tremble in her voice. "Go slow."

Bending his head over her shoulder, he kissed her skin and began to push slowly in. He really had to push. Her body was almost cramped, clutched around him so tightly that he couldn't have gone much faster anyway. It felt amazing. It was difficult and he pushed in a little deeper, gasping with the effort.

"Are you…?" she whispered.

"Almost," he said hoarsely. He was about halfway.

"Just do it." It was a breathy but certain request.

Using his hands, he lifted her hips a little to ease his entry and thrust forward. He heard her gasp, followed by a quickly stifled whimper, her body going rigid and tense around him, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. He knew he had hurt her, but he also knew it was not much. She relaxed, still holding him, and he groaned, moving in her automatically, breathing hard, moaning because it felt so good. She was quiet, but it was difficult to think about anything. The pressure was so intense a few strokes were all he could manage before the pleasure built to a degree that he could not contain his orgasm. He didn't try. He gasped, letting himself go. He came and pulled out of her, collapsing over her body, surprised at how quickly it was over. A physical euphoria washed through him as he pulled himself up on his elbows and looked down at the girl whose bodily embrace enfolded him in his exhaustion.

Her eyes were like opals or pearls, wet with unshed tears and glimmering with emotions he did not try to define. She had been watching and listening to him. He knew that much.

"It wasn't the same for you," he said, and it was both a statement and a realization. "Are you hurt?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I think this takes practice. I'm okay."

He kissed her, raising his chest off hers to hover over her face, trapping her head with his hands. "We'll try again. I'll get it perfect," he promised. He meant it.

She laughed then, a light sound that startled him at first and then delighted him on some level he could not identify. "I'm not a virgin anymore," she said softly, but though he was relieved that she seemed happy, he didn't understand why it was funny.