Warnings and such: This fanfic uses characters without permission from the anime series Gundam Wing. I don't own these characters. The scene takes place on the Peacemillion after Hilde is injured smuggling diagrams to the Gundam pilots. This fanfic has graphic sexual material and is not to be read by anyone under the age of 18. If you're under 18 and reading this, then your parents need to monitor your internet time more carefully.

She was out of immediate danger, healed enough to be moved from Peacemillion's sick bay to private quarters. The move was as much practical as anything else, since the looming battle the crew prepared for and dreaded would soon have sick bay overflowing with wounded.

She was not, however, well. Not by any stretch of the imagination. She was stronger for the transfusion of blood and the day of rest, but not strong enough to crawl to the bathroom by herself or to get her own meals.

Which was why Death sat next to the bed, slouched forward with his elbows braced against his knees, chin propped over laced fingers. It was an ungainly, graceless pose; but then, Death was not especially interested in how he appeared at the moment. His concentration was centered on the occupant of the narrow bed, watching for any twitch in the resting form that might indicate she needed help (maybe another trip to the bathroom, even), watching for signals that would indicate life was yet present in the still body...

There was a rumbling sound.

"I'm hungry," Hilde complained without opening her eyes, her young voice still hoarse from the shouting she had done the previous day. "And I'm tired of listening to you breathe. Don't tell me you've run out of words, Duo."

Death blinked -- and sixteen-year-old Duo Maxwell straightened in his chair, grinning sheepishly. "Just dozin' a bit," he claimed, illustrating his supposed somnolent state with a joint-popping stretch of long arms overhead and a jaw-splitting yawn. Hilde did open a single eye then which, although squinted against the too-bright light of the impersonal stark-white room, managed to convey skepticism. Duo dropped his arms, looking at her with concern. "You feeling better, Hilde?"

In what was meant to be an answer the young woman propped herself up on her elbows. She promptly winced and collapsed back against the pillows, the impact bringing another wince. "I've been better," she conceded. "Been worse," she added quietly, shadows chasing across her face as she recalled the two powerful mechs she had squared off against in her determination to get the needed specs to the Gundam pilots--to one Gundam pilot in particular--

Duo got out of his chair, reaching for a small cylinder propped on top of a nondescript dresser. "They were busy in the commissary, but I got them to send some soup," he said, bringing it back to the bed. He was brought up short by what he saw: Hilde with her eyes closed again, a hint of moisture marking her cheek.

It was just a single tear, but it tore at him. He couldn't stand to see her cry. It was too much like --

She couldn't stop sobbing, and he didn't know what to do for her. They both knew, vaguely, that the first time was supposed to hurt, but it was supposed to stop hurting at some point and, somehow, whatever he did, however he moved, it just intensified her discomfort until she couldn't bite her lips hard enough to hold back the tears anymore. He'd never felt less like finishing something he'd started in his entire short life. So he just held her, awkwardly patting at her bare back and shoulders with flat hands, and once her sobs faded to sniffles they had both agreed that they didn't see what the big deal was about sex and that the entire bizarre embarrassing process was WAY over-rated...

"Soup?" he asked abruptly, thrusting the thermos at her.

She struggled slowly to a sitting position. He set the thermos down to help her arrange pillows, trying not to think about anything other than making her comfortable, definitely not thinking about what happened the last time they were alone together. Nope. He wasn't thinking about that at all. Not one little bit.

"Hold me." She held her arms up to him.

Hold her...?! Gingerly Duo sat on the very edge of the narrow bed, facing her. She started to lean forward, winced again. He scooted a little closer. Uncertainly he touched her shoulders. The hospital gown was coarse against his palms. He gently shifted his hands to her shoulder blades, cautiously embracing her. She burrowed into his arms, her bandaged cheek pressed against his chest. There was still a strong smell of chemicals in the room, a reminder of how close she had come to meeting his namesake.

She shivered against him. Was she remembering the battle...? How to distract her? "Shh," he whispered in what he hoped was a comforting manner, stroking hands through her short hair, trailing fingers down her slim neck. Of course, she might be remembering the last time -- the first time -- he had been this close to her rather than the near-fatal battle he had almost been too late to save her from. God knew he got the creeps when he thought about it--

As if on cue, she pulled away. Duo loosened his arms, breathing a silent sigh of relief. Even though he knew they were no good at it, holding her caused sensual stirrings in his body that were best ignored. Teenage male hormones, he supposed. But Hilde hooked her fingers in the dark cloth of his tunic, pulling him down with her as she settled back against the pillows.

"Don't let go," she murmured into his ear.

Duo found himself pressed against her side, half on top of her. He stared down at her with startled eyes that took up most of his face. Hadn't they agreed that the physical stuff just wasn't what they were meant for? And (his mind continued, inanely) wasn't her soup going to get cold? She needed her strength... "Babe," he asked hoarsely, "what do you want?"

Hilde's response was muffled against his shoulder. "You ask really stupid questions sometimes, Duo."

In spite of his uncertainty about the situation, Duo grinned wryly. She wasn't alone in thinking him a complete moron. He'd been called that and more just last night--

He really never meant to tell anyone what happened between him and Hilde. Ever. But he didn't wear the priest's outfit just for shock value; he believed in some of the trappings that came with the costume. He wasn't always sure he had a soul, but he did think that confession was good for those that did. Waiting for the coming conflict with Zech Marquis' Libra, wondering what Trieze's forces mustering on Earth were going to do, trying to figure out where the Gundams fit in the entire mess, made him want to confess the one recent act he felt guilty about. So in the small room with the two bunks that he shared with Heero, Duo found himself telling the taciturn pilot of Wing that he didn't get sex, that he and Hilde had tried it and that it went really, really bad really, really fast.

Heero gave him a cold, level stare -- the only sort of stare Heero seemed to know -- walked over to his bunk, and pulled out something flimsy from under the mattress. He tossed it at Duo with deadly accuracy. Duo snatched at it, but Heero had correctly compensated for the other pilot's reaction time. It hit Duo square on the nose. "Ow!" Rubbing at his face, Duo bent to pick up-- "'Love's Torrid Passion'?!" He looked at the Living Weapon that was Heero Yuy in appalled amusement. "Um...this is a whole 'nother side of you, Heero."

"Know the enemy," said Heero flatly. "Inside and out."

Holding the paperback novel away from himself as if to prevent contamination, Duo eyed the florid illustration on the front cover with fascinated revulsion. "Well, if she loses much more of her top I'm going to know every single mole ... "

"Moron. Women read stuff like that."

It still took a minute for Duo to catch his meaning. "Heero, you mean, if you read this stuff, you'll know what women think?"

There was the bare tightening of the mouth that indicated Heero was about to lose patience with the conversation. Duo eyed him warily and gingerly held the book out to him. Heero ignored the offering. "You'll know what women want, sexually," the Perfect Weapon said. "You can't know what anyone thinks."

You don't want know what I'm thinking, Duo said to himself, then jumped as Heero's eyes narrowed at him, insanely afraid that the most dangerous of the Gundam pilots had picked up on his thoughts. That was Quatre's gig, surely...

But Heero merely turned away, back to his own bunk.

"Hey," said Duo after another incredulous glance at the book cover, "what are you doing with this? Planning on trying some of this stuff on Relena?"

"If you tell Relena I have that, I will kill you. Slowly." Then Heero turned toward him once more and uttered a few more cutting words before plunging the room into darkness. "If you had done a little research, you would have nothing to reproach yourself for now."

Duo had scowled and slapped the book down on the bedside table, studiously ignoring it as he groped for his own bunk and tried to force himself to sleep. He meant to sneak back during the day cycle on Peacemillion and glance at some of the juicier parts, but the battle had started before he had the opportunity. Then came Hilde's call for help, which he almost didn't answer in time. She had been so cold to the touch when he pulled her out of her battered mech, so pale when they wheeled her away to sick bay. Watching her vanish in the sea of medical technicians, he knew he might never see her again. So much suddenly seemed unimportant. Grimly, Duo had turned to Heero and told him where to find Relena.

And Heero had vanished himself, undoubtedly heading for the Libra and Relena, although Duo frankly boggled at the idea of him trying any of that bodice-ripping stuff on the former Queen of the World. Pacifist though she was, Relena would slap him silly.

Speaking of unexpected people indulging in bodice-ripping--

She wasn't moving much, Duo thought she might still be in too much pain, but she had pulled off his priest's collar and tugged his black shirt free of his pants, running her hands up and down the skin of his back. This doesn't work for us, he wanted to remind her, then her palms pressed against his spine right as her mouth found the base of his throat and some instinct dropped his head back to give her better access as his body arched into the curve of her legs. Suddenly he couldn't stand the cloth against his skin. He sat up, pulling his shirt over his head, only remembering his shoes when he lay beside her again. He toed them off, making Hilde giggle as his legs brushed against hers. Her fingers moved to the neck of her own gown, but she winced and dropped her hand. "It's tied at the back," she told him. "Could you--?"

He tugged the single bow at the back of her neck, then simply peeled the gown from her. The harsh light was unrelenting. Her ribs were tightly bound just under her breasts. Pale bruises were beginning to erupt on the pale skin, marks from the battle. She flushed under his stare and crossed one arm over her chest, defensively. "What are you staring at?" she said, trying for a light tone and failing, simply sounding vulnerable. "You've seen it all before, idiot."

She's so fragile. Heart-wrenchingly fragile. "You're beautiful," he said hoarsely as he followed the line of bruises down her shoulders with one finger. The safety harness, he realized. The edges of the restraining device had dug into her soft skin even through the space suit and the protective insulating layers. A day later the skin was just beginning to discolor, turning shades of yellow and green. The bruises would be more vivid and tender in a few more days. He bent his head, tracing the faint marks with his mouth, hoping he would be around to take care of her in a few more days...

She made a soft little noise he remembered from that night. It stopped him cold, brought his head up. I shouldn't be laying on her. He sat up, kneeling between her knees as he studied her pale face with concern. One of her knees moved enough to touch the bare flesh above his waistband, making him jump a little. "You can't do this with your pants on," Hilde said without opening her eyes.

Feeling as if he were in a dream, Duo undid his pants and struggled to get them off without moving around on the bed too much, not wanting to do anything that might jar one of her injuries. He managed to get them to his knees then pitched forward, barely catching himself on his elbows. Hilde opened her eyes and looked into his slightly flushed face. She giggled. Duo glared at her. "Hey, I'm doing the best I can. Stop laughing at me!"

"But you look so funny," she protested between giggles.

Grumbling, Duo reached down and wretched the pants off. All this activity was certainly doing a number on his body; his briefs were damned confining, his erect sex uncomfortable being constrained. He shucked them off as well. Hilde giggled again. Duo resumed his kneeling position between her legs, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at her. "Hilde, I know I not any good at this, but it isn't funny."

Her giggles stifled. "I'm just nervous," she said, reaching down with a hand to touch her nails against his lean-muscled thigh. Startled, he jerked, and her hand came into contact with his jutting sex. He took in a breath and held it. "Doesn't look like you mind being laughed at a little." She ran the tips of her fingers up and down his length, and he closed his eyes and thought he would melt. "Duo," she said, "I was so scared. I thought I was going to die, that I wouldn't be able to get to you. Make me feel alive again, Duo."

More than ever, he wished he had read that damned book. Although how to make love to a woman with broken ribs was probably not in there... He cupped one of her breasts in his palm, touching the nipple with his thumb, watching the flesh pucker. Her fingertips created random patterns across his abdomen, dropping again to pluck at his manhood. He moaned with the touch, unconsciously kneading her breast in response. When did she figure out to do that? "I don't want to wait," she said, her voice all thready.

He wasn't sure how to go about this coupling. Having one disastrous experience with sex was not conducive to self-confidence. But she was so needy. He pulled her legs up, bracing them against his chest, only thinking that he wanted to do this with as little discomfort to her as possible. He rubbed against her, and almost stopped thinking. She was so wet. Steeling himself should he need to stop in a hurry, Duo carefully pushed into her.

She made a tiny noise again, almost a sigh. He watched her carefully, absently stroking his hands down her long smooth thighs. There was a sharp intake of breath. Was he hurting her? She's been hurt enough. I've hurt her enough... He started to pull away, but her legs bent and flexed around him, holding him tight (so tight) against her body. Gasping, Duo thrust once automatically, then held himself still when she seemed to flinch. "Hilde..."

Her eyes didn't open, but "don't stop," she murmured, reaching out and gripping her fingers against his ribs. Duo was torn between giving into what his body wanted to do and terror that he was hurting her again. He didn't think she could take his weight right now. Carefully he braced his arms by her shoulders, taking his weight on his palms. She moaned again as he adjusted his position, digging her nails into his skin. The slight pain felt...weirdly good. "Babe," he whispered hoarsely, hoping it was true, "I can quit."

She shook her head back and forth on the pillow.

"Don' wanna hurt you," he insisted, complete sentences suddenly beyond him.

"Then move," she growled. "Move, Duo. Inside me, please, just move."

He bent down to kiss her. He meant it to be a comforting brush of lips, but she opened her mouth and thrust her tongue against his and he forgot to straighten back up. When she latched onto his lower lip and sucked on it, he gasped against her face and, involuntarily, thrust again. "More," she moaned, "more."

Gently was his last conscious thought. Then he gave into her strange hunger, flexing his hips to make small, steady thrusts, moving his open mouth across her face. Hilde pressed her knees against the tops of his legs and folded her ankles behind his knees, making him groan with the increased pressure, making the struggle for control that much harder. It wasn't anything like last time but he wasn't thinking of last time because he could feel her breasts brush against his chest and her hands on his back clenching and unclenching at his braid and her leg rubbing up and down his and no it didn't hurt didn't hurt at all--

Then he gulped and almost closed his eyes because it felt so good, but if he closed his eyes he couldn't watch her and watching her as her head thrashed and strange gasps and moans came from her wide-open mouth was the most important thing in his entire life. There was a long shudder as her back arched and Hilde forgot to breathe, her face intent as she thrust her chin up, exposing the white throat. Duo lowered his head to nip at the base of her neck, making her shudder again, then lifted one hand to touch her cheek. "Hilde...?"

Under him, her lean body relaxed. Hilde blinked her fluttering lids open. "Ow," she remarked. She stared up at him with wide eyes.

"You okay?"

"Duo," she breathed, "that was it." She released her death-grip on his sides, put her arms overhead, and started to stretch. "Ow," she said again with a small grimace as she quickly brought her arms back down. "That's hard on the ribs." She shifted again, this time stretching out her legs, her thighs and calves brushing against his. It brought him out of his stupor as he suddenly became aware of a few things. Like the unsatisfied state of his own body...

So did she. Hilde grinned up at him. "Um...forget something, did you?"

"I was watching you," Duo told her. He went to one elbow, gently running his other hand down her throat, her breast, to the top of her bandaged ribs. He carefully put his arm behind her shoulders as he lowered himself to her, taking all of his weight on his forearm. Her small hands tangled in the loose hair next to his face. He could feel her breasts flatten against his chest, the nipples pressing into his skin, her soft lips traveling across his cheek. Finally closing his eyes he tucked his face against her neck, gently suckling and mouthing the flesh there, and began to move. He was already so close to the edge it only took a few thrusts. Before his senses blanked out he felt her tremble again, calling his name in low moans.

For long moments the only sounds were shuddering gasps as the two young lovers tried to pull air back into their lungs. Duo rolled to his side and started to gather Hilde in his arms, but settled for pressing close against her when she yipped. "Now I really can't move," she complained, but she didn't sound like she minded. "I'm all sweaty," she added in surprise.

"Me, too." Duo rested his hand on her lower abdomen and nuzzled against her ear. "I'm gonna have to wash my hair. You have any idea what kinda chore that is? You didn't even let me unbraid it first."

"I was in a hurry," she admitted, airily. There was a rumble. Duo hastily snatched his hand back from her stomach, but Hilde just grinned. "And I'm still hungry. Hungrier than ever, even."

Duo kissed her on the nose and stood up, stretching. He caught her staring at him and dropped his arms, flushing lightly. He grabbed the sheet, kicked to the foot of the bed during their coupling, and pulled it around her, tucking it carefully next her body. Before reaching for the thermos of soup, though, he sat on the bed, reaching one arm across her as he looked seriously into her eyes. "Hilde; why this, why now? It was such a disaster before, we weren't going to bother with it again."

"Oh, I think we know what we're doing now," said Hilde with that infectious grin of hers. "Besides," she dropped her eyes, "well, I talked to Relena when we were on the Libra together. And she, um, loaned me this book..."