It sits on the edge of his desk as he struggles with his notebooks – a tantalizing square shaped object nearly bulging at the seams with its contents. It’s a deep brown color. Genuine leather, dear folks. I can almost smell the familiar scent of ‘newness’, of being relatively untouched. It teeters dangerously. It’s bound to fall to the floor, but damn his quick reflexes! He nudges it back into place with a quick flick of his wrist, attention back to his goddamn books.
He’s doing this on purpose. He’s got to be. Why would anyone leave a wallet sitting out just like that? He wants me to notice it. He wants me to see how wealthy he is. Damn show off.
With a light snort, I force my gaze away and stare out the window. Classes have begun and all too soon, the boring lull of our teacher’s voice eventually sends me to sleep.
Tucked in the seat of his pants as he walks down the hallway, and I a few feet away behind him, the brown wallet swells in relief with each stride he takes. I lick my lips and struggle to control myself. My palms are sweaty and I rub them hastily down my slacks, biting my lower lip hard at the thought of reaching out for it. He’s making this way too easy.
But I have changed. Turned over a new leaf. Began life fresh anew and so on and so forth. I’m not a petty thief anymore. And yet…
(The itch)
It’s there. Still there. Never really did go anywhere after all. The thrill of knowing you can take away something from another without them knowing is like a drug to my senses. One minute I’m there. The next minute, I’m gone. Without a trace. Never knowing what hit you until it’s much too late. Some discoveries from things I have stolen were well worth it. A couple of hundred bucks, perhaps a raffle ticket or some food coupon to feed me whenever I get hungry. But that was all in the past. A time when darkness ruled, until the Church dragged my ass in and forced me to change my ways.
Old habits die hard.
Idle hands are the devil’s workshop. Might as well keep my goddamn hands busy.
He reaches behind him to pull out the wallet. Buys himself a boxed lunch and tucks it back in.
(Nice ass by the way)
“Excuse me.”
I blink and step back, smiling as he nods briefly and walks away (brushes right by me) without a second glance.
(Nice blue eyes too)
I watch my prey round the corner and smirk as I hold up my prize. He definitely won’t know what hit him.
“It’s two fifty for the extra box of orange juice, son.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the boy says as he reaches for his wallet behind him. A look of comical surprise flickers across his features for a moment as he pats his left pocket gently….and then a bit harder.
The cafeteria lady is not impressed.
“It must have dropped on the way here,” he’s saying quickly, still patting his pockets, eyes darting towards the floor, just in case.
“Uh huh and I’m the Easter bunny.”
“I swear it.” His voice isn’t raised, but the mild panic and worry is there. If anyone finds that wallet…
(the boy with the long hair!)
…they’ll see. They’ll know!
“Hey, get back here!” she yells from behind the counter as he spins on his heels to run out of the building. “Someone stop him!”
And now to see what ‘Blue-Eyed Wonder’ keeps in his wallet. But first…
I caress the small object, noticing that it’s still slightly warm from his touch. It’s nothing too extravagant on closer inspection, and it’s not as new as I thought either. There’s a line of thread sticking out from the side, an evidence of it being used over time. A small zipper is on its side which I shake a little to know that it contains coins. So predictable.
I hold it to my nose and take a sniff – the mingled smell of old leather and his scent (hot and mildly spicy) overwhelm me. Blushing and hoping no one noticed me do that, I hide behind the large oak tree, safely tucked away from curious gazes that might come my way. I open the clasp with a flick of my finger and I’m met with his picture – his school ID card.
Heero Yuy
Age: 16
Class: 2-A
Address: XXX
Date of Birth: XXX
If found please notify owner at: XXX
Does he ever smile? Not that it’s important.
There’s at least twenty bucks in cash. Bingo. I stash that away in my pocket for a rainy day.
Digging deeper, I pull out a wad of cards – school library card, bus pass, the city library card, a video arcade pass…
Boring.
Tucking those back in, I ply open the other side. Receipts. All neatly folded. What the…?
His dry cleaning receipt. His recent purchase of some video games. Receipts for grocery shopping (he apparently likes his noodles), receipts for getting a new….SEMI-AUTOMATIC?!
No, my eyes do not deceive me. It’s a receipt for an ammunition warehouse, and this kid seems to be a regular customer because he’s got about ten of these stashed in here. Okay, think Duo. You have the wallet of a possible serial killer, or terrorist. What’s a good boy supposed to do? Yes, I ought to go to the administrative office and hand this to them. I ought to let them know that this kid is potentially dangerous and perhaps he has plans to blow up the school and then kill everyone! Jesus fucking Christ! And he acts so innocent too.
But wait! My fingerprints are all over this. If the police ask questions, they might think I’m in cohorts with him. I’m a pickpocket. I shouldn’t have taken this in the first place. Nah, I have to think of another way to let them know that…
Hmm? What’s this? A small photograph of…
ME?
Oh my God! I’m his fucking target! A bad case of the shakes overtakes me and the wallet slips from my fingers to the ground, my picture still clasped between my fingers like a vice. I stare hard at my profile, wondering when and where he had gotten this from. It looks like I’m in my gym shirt…can’t tell since it’s basically my face and not much else. But I’m talking to someone, my head is half-turned, just enough that you can see almost all of my features. Goddamn it! When and how had he gotten this picture? He must have used his cell phone or something!
I’m going to have to leave school now. Run away. Disappear from the face of the Earth. But first I have to give this to the cops and then…
“Finally…found you.”
I think I must have given a breathless squeak of fear as I look up to meet his angry gaze. He’s panting a little (must have run a while) and as he takes another step closer, I rise to my feet on unsteady legs, clenching my hands into fists in readiness for a fight. I’m not going down just like that. If he wants to kill me then-
He moves.
“Take another step and I’ll punch you so hard, you’ll wish you hadn’t messed with me,” I growl. He only rolls his eyes and reaches for his wallet, dusting it off gently to eye it warily…and then me.
“I owe the lunch lady two fifty for an extra box of orange juice,” he states, which I swear, completely throws me off kilter. How can he sound so fucking calm?
Oh yeah, he’s a serial killer or assassin. They’re trained not to act panicked.
“So?” I ask.
“So you seem to have my money. May I at least borrow a five from you to make it up? You can keep the rest if you’re that desperate.”
Ouch. Low blow. The son of a bitch.
“And if I don’t give it to you? Then what? You’re gonna kill me, right? Like sneak up when I’m not looking and shoot me with the semi-automatic you keep in your bag or something, right? Oh, don’t look so surprised now.” I smirk and dangle my picture before him. “I know you’ve been my target all this time, but I’m not going to go down without a fight. You want a piece of me, Yuy? You’ll have to…eh…deal with me first!”
That didn’t quite come out how I wanted it to. So why the hell is he blushing?
“The…picture…” He stammers a little and turns his face away, covering his mouth as if trying not to laugh. Pity it’s only doing more to piss me off.
“Hey, look at me when I’m talking, asshole. I know what you’re up to. I know you buy weapons and keep the receipts and…mmphff!”
One minute I’m yapping, the next, he’s slapped a hand over my mouth and has me pressed against the tree. His body presses tightly against mine, his warm breath tickling my face as he leans even closer until I can see the specks of black within those blue eyes of his. I did mention he had nice eyes, right?
“Shssh, not a word, Duo Maxwell,” he whispers and now it’s my turn to blush. Damn. His voice sounded kinda…hot for a moment. “You are my target, but not in the way you think.”
Say what? Not that I can think much with the way he’s rubbing himself against me. Whether it’s on purpose or not, I don’t know. Don’t give a fuck either. It feels so fantastically good. There’s a name for this though. Having a thing for serial killers and murderers and…
“Mmmpffhrh???” Translation: What the fuck is he now doing with the money in his hands? I hadn’t even noticed…! Oh, he’s good. Not as good as me though, but he’s good all the same.
He smirks and removes his hand – which smelled delicious (maybe it’s because he just had lunch).
“Thank you.”
“Fuck you,” I mutter.
“No, thanks. We don’t know each other that well…yet.”
Did he just make a joke? “I saw receipts,” I begin, noticing he hasn’t really pulled away from me. Good. I want him this close.
“Did you?”
“Gun…weapons…receipts.” Nice going. I can’t even make complete sentences now. His lips look nice too. Not too thick, not too thin. Just right. The lower lip is a bit fuller…kinda moist with the way he darts out a tongue to lick it slowly. Yummy. He speaks.
“Yes, receipts.”
“So…?”
“Hmm?”
He’s staring at me too…well not me exactly…I think he’s watching my mouth move. Kinda embarrassing.
“What are you?”
“A boy like yourself.”
“Who buys weapons.”
He shrugs and moves. Someone groans. Not sure if it’s me. Damn! It’s getting hotter around here. I need to take off my jacket.
“If you insist, Duo.”
Oh man, I love it when he says my name. Oh, but he’s not going to get me that easily. This is a tactic. The ‘Distract your enemy with sexual like innuendos and behavior so he forgets what he’s thinking’ routine.
“Why do you have my picture?”
Ah ha! He looks away a little. His cheeks fill with color again and then he looks back at me. Hard. Piercing. Takes my fucking breath away.
“Because I want to.”
Talk about being floored with a blunt and most unexpected answer. What’s he going to say next? That he’s harbored a crush on me all this time and didn’t quite know how to say it and-
“…and didn’t quite know how to say it.”
I blink. Did he say something? I’m sorry, my mind was so full of impossible scenarios, I could have sworn that he actually confessed to me.
“You’re an assassin,” I say for lack of anything coherent in my thoughts.
He smiles. It’s small. It’s almost beautiful, but doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, I am.”
I swallow. “Who…are you supposed to kill?”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
I nod, must have, because he leans closer to me. His lips caress my ear and he says two words that have me moaning a little. I know the guy and I’m not even going to ask the reason why. He pulls away…not far enough, but his lips hover at the corner of my mouth. His breath is warm…warmer still…goddamn sweet.
“Keep it a secret. Just between you and me.”
“…okay…”
My lashes grow heavier, my breathing ragged as he dares to taste my lower lip. I wish he’d just kiss me already and end my torture. I think I’m about to come in my pants.
“Say it,” he cajoles.
“Say…what?” Barely audible.
“What you want me to do.”
“I don’t…” Dying here.
“…you do.”
“We’re…outside…” Burning the hell up.
“No one can see us from here…”
“Make it quick then.”
He laughs – a low husky sound that….aaaah….bliss.
When did I open my mouth to let his tongue in? Why can I feel his hands cupping my ass and pulling me even closer to him? Why is my head and heart pounding so hard, that it’s all I can hear as we exchange this kiss that seems to last for an eternity, a kiss that’s slowly but surely going to drive me mad. I grunt as I feel his erection rub against mine. How can a kid like this be so good at this kissing business? Is that part of the assassin training program? If so, please sign me up. Oh God… Breathe. Must breathe. My head is beginning to feel light. We need to get some air. We need to…
He pulls away quickly, leaving me a sagging mess against the tree. He’s panting again, eyes alive, features flushed. Trembling a little. Ditto that on my end. I can barely stand.
“The next class,” he manages somehow. “The bell…”
“Yeah…I know…I’ll see you…”
Oh, God, will I see you again.
He nods, tucks his wallet into his pocket, takes a deep breath and with a light wave, he’s gone. Just like that. I close my eyes and try to control myself as well as I can, knowing that there’s no way I can show up in the building without giving my aroused state away. However…it begins. The low bubbling laughter within the pit of my stomach as my fingers tighten around the wad of cash in my hands. I did say he was good, but he can never be as good as me. I told you he wouldn’t know what hit him.
I can’t imagine what he’ll do when he discovers that his money has disappeared again, but boy, I simply can’t wait for him to find me. The chase and the capture is going to be oh so worth it.
-The End-
Gundam Wing Fiction
|
|