He couldn't see the man restraining him, couldn't begin to see his face or what he wore. Couldn't tell if he'd ever found a way to tame that messy hair. But the strong bite of fingers clutching his wrists kept him from forgetting just who held on to him.

A rough hand slid around his waist. The warmth of the hand resting over his jeans, covering the button with skilled fingers made Duo's mind start to drift. He didn't speak, just stood there, let his body lean back a bit into the heat of the body so close. This wasn't a new game for him, only some time removed from when he'd been near before.

The hand slid down from his waist band, over the denim to touch, stroke, tease. Duo moaned quietly, forcing most of the sound down with a hard swallow. He could feel the returned interest rocking against him.

The fingers worked their way back up, opened the button, tugged down the zipper, and then the questing hand was inside, stroking eagerly.

"Here?" Duo panted and felt a sharp nip on his shoulder. The reminder that talking wasn't part of the game.

Duo groaned and panted, rested his forehead on his forearm against the wall. His body began to move, to thrust into the firm grip and rock against the hardness against his backside.

He knew he wouldn't last, too long since he'd been touched, since he'd touched himself. Duo gasped, bit his lip to fight crying out the way he wanted to, resisted calling out the name on his lips.

Duo forced his eyes open. He was a little embarrassed to see the proof of his early ending on the wall in front of him. Even more surprised to feel the warm breath puffing on his neck in an amused chuckle as skilled fingers tucked him back inside his jeans.

He'd never been so glad for the rules to this game. The rule against speaking of said encounter seemed like a blessing right now. A chance to forget that he'd not lasted half the time he usually did.