Fic: The Night Before (Gundam Wing, Alex/Mueller, R)

[juushika]

Title: The Night Before
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: Alex/Mueller from episode 13, Catherine’s Tears. So canon.
Rating: Hard R/possible NC-17 for descriptions of sex and some language.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Alex and Mueller celebrate their victory over Zechs Marquise by having sex the night before they die. Tense, angsty, and a bit dark.
Note: This fic hasn't been beta'd, so I would appreciate any spelling/etc corrections. Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Post is unlocked. Enjoy!



Alex and Mueller fuck the night before they die. It is their first and only night together, and they are both thinking about Zechs Marquise, the Lightening Count, and about power.

Alex begins it. Zechs Marquise salutes against the glare of the setting sun, Alex and Mueller leave him in the mobile suite hanger, and then Alex pins Mueller behind the next hanger and kisses him. It is surprising but entirely predictable, and Mueller kisses back. Alex is rough and grinds against Mueller, upsetting their pressed slacks and buttoned jackets. Mueller bites Alex on his neck, his bottom lip. They claw at each other, grab handfuls of hair, they kiss hard and moan into each other.

When they separate they are flushed and breathing hard. The sun, low on the horizon, casts harsh orange light on Alex's face. Alex gives Mueller one last, light kiss and then they return to the crew quarters for supper and room assignments. They are scheduled to leave early the next morning, and then they will die.

That night, they fuck. This time there is no surprise. They are inside Mueller's assigned quarters, undecorated and gray, and Alex catches Mueller against the wall again. They are anxious and determined, and every touch is too hard and too rough. They bite at each other's tongues and they push hard into each other's hips. Alex is thinking about the rigid stance Zechs Marquise had when he stood at attention and saluted them, and he forces Mueller flat against the wall and rips at the curls in Mueller's hair. Mueller is thinking about the tone in Zechs's voice when he said "as your subordinate" and he moans an odd harsh noise into the cavern of Alex's mouth.

They have been partners for years, informally during training under Lucrezia Noin and with rank and privilege now. Alex leads them into battle and Mueller keeps them in one piece, and they are damn good at what they do. They sack bases together. Alex has learned to lead and to trust every move that Mueller makes, and Mueller has learned to think as Alex thinks. They have shared barracks and rank, mission and goal. They know each other like brothers. One day they could be generals.

They breathe together, move together now, and by the frantic but steady work of their hands they are soon nude and pressed against each other in one body of friction and heat. Flesh on flesh burns. They have found the bed. Still, they kiss. On top of the tucked, starched gray sheets Alex presses down on Mueller. Alex fists Mueller's prick in sharp tugs and Mueller gropes at anything he can reach, his hands dark over the untanned skin of Alex's shoulders, sides, waist, and ass.

Their victory over Zechs Marquise is so much like a victory in battle, and now they let the war cries out. Alex can feel his heart burning in his chest, full of pride. He will command Zechs in battle, Zechs, Treize Khushrenada's favorite, Lucrezia Noin's peer. He may even command Zechs to his death. OZ will never look at him in the same way again. He feels as if he can reach out and touch his future. He reaches out and slides a hand between Mueller's legs. Mueller gasps, and he imagines what it will be like to watch Zechs fly off for the front lines at their command, imagines the cracked shell of the Tallgeese after the battle.

They fuck, and they both think about Zechs Marquise. Mueller wraps his legs around Alex's hips and pushes upward, and he swears at the pain. Beneath his closed eyes he sees Zechs absorbed by the burning sun, his straight gloved hand against his temple. He laughs out loud. Alex thrusts and he imagines Zechs is beneath him, bent over the bed, ass tight around his cock. Alex and Mueller kiss again and they are grinning, smirking through their panting breaths, thinking about victory and the battle in the morning, about a future in which they will command armies and win wars. Everything moves so fast. Their sweat slides down their skin and mingles on the bedsheets. Alex thrusts hard and gropes at Mueller's prick and they curse together, they damn the Lightening Count to hell.

Mueller comes first and his tightness triggers Alex, and then everything stops. Mueller's head is back and his hips are high. Alex is arched, tight as a bow string. For a second their hearts still and freeze. Together they are breathless. In the silent room the air is hot and stagnant. The come on Mueller's chest and stomach begins to run into the sheets. Tomorrow morning they will die. They will lead Zechs into battle but then Zechs will kill them both. For a moment they can feel death, and they are flushed and silent. Then their hearts begin to beat again.

Alex collapses and rolls to the side. Mueller scoots over to make room for both of them on the bed. They say nothing and catch their breaths. After a few minutes, Alex wipes his prick down with the bedsheet, finds his clothes, and pulls on his slacks and undershirt. He looks at Mueller and he smiles. "See you in the morning," he says, and there is still a tinge of lust in his voice. Mueller smiles back with narrow eyes, and then Alex leaves. They sleep easily. They depart the next morning at 0400 hours. By noon, they are dead.