Agony. Love. Helplessness. Love. Terror love agony lovehatelovepainlove…
Quatre jerked awake, his scream dying on his lips as he registered the feeling of being held. He opened his eyes and saw the relief in Trowa’s face, and he could see in those green eyes that he was forcibly restraining himself from crushing Quatre in his embrace by hugging too tightly.
“Quatre?” Trowa murmured. “Are you alright?”
“I’m –” He coughed, then cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m fine. Duo isn’t, though…”
Shuddering, Quatre remembered the exact moment when he’d seen the inevitable outcome of things and had been helpless to stop it. The exact moment when he’d felt Duo break, felt him give in to the emotions screaming to be let out. He remembered the despairing, desperate love, and the horrifying agony. Oh, the pain Duo was in… he should have known. Duo pretended everything was fine, he even comforted Quatre, but he should have known! What kind of friend was he?
“Where’s Duo?” he asked, panic rising, struggling to sit up. “Why am I in Heavyarms? Where’s Heero? I need to see Duo. Trowa –”
“What now?” he said warily, seeing the torn look on Trowa’s face.
“On the way back to the safe house we received orders. The two of us.”
“It’s urgent, an immediate mission… we have to go. I already spent too much time trying to wake you up, and if we don’t go now, we won’t make it.”
Quatre bit his lip. “Alright, I’ll contact Duo via radio –”
“He’s still unconscious. Heero’s taking care of him.”
Light blue eyes narrowed. “I don’t like the idea of leaving Duo with those two –”
“Wufei’s on another mission. I asked. S said that he’d be gone for the next month or so. Ours lasts a couple of weeks.”
“So he’s in a house alone with Heero?” Quatre cried, dismayed.
“Better than with Wufei, too. We can’t do anything about it, love.”
Blue eyes narrowed. “Fine,” the Arabian said finally. He got to his feet with Trowa’s help, scowling. “But I’m going to talk to Heero on the way, if nothing else!”
Trowa’s lips quirked in a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of stopping you.”
Duo listened to Heero sigh as Quatre disconnected the line after a good ten minutes of warning him not to hurt Duo and threatening him bodily harm in various creative ways if he did, with a few furious insults thrown in. Heero hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise, right up to the end of the call. It was sweet, in a detached sort of way, that Quatre cared like that, but it meant that his control wasn’t good enough, and he’d made Quatre worry. It was probably that little outburst of his just before he’d gone suicidal between Wing and that Leo.
It wouldn’t happen again.
He heard Heero come into the room – judging by the feel of the surface he was on, he’d been placed in his own bed. His stomach hurt, but it was a tight pain that told him the wound had been stitched. One knee ached dully, but seemed to be fine, the other – broken, but not yet set. His shirt was gone, but the pants weren’t. Good. Heero hadn’t seen.
“I know you’re awake, Duo.”
Damn, how did he do that? “Yeah.”
“I need to check your knee, I think it’s broken.”
A weight lowering the bed on his right, hands on his hips, no not the pants! If he finds out about the cuts he’ll feel guilty and stay with me because he feels guilty and I don’t want that, I don’t want that at all… Duo’s eyes flew open to see Heero leaning over him, and instinctively he reached up and yanked Heero down for an open-mouthed kiss, all tongue and teeth and bruising.
Heero groaned, low, deep in his throat, and in the first few stunned seconds tried to pull away but Duo wouldn’t let him, because he had the feeling that if he let Heero get over the surprise, he wouldn’t get a second chance again. He used all the tricks he knew until Heero gave in, kissing back with equal ferocity, mouth open against his and tongues clashing in each other’s mouths until they were both breathless and had to pull apart, only to dive back in again after a quick harsh breath. Heero slipped his hands behind Duo’s head, gripping, trapping, and Duo let him, submissive under the possessive attack as tongue and teeth and lips laid claim to his.
Duo’s lips felt thoroughly, wonderfully violated, his lips painfully yet deliciously swollen, his cock hard and needing more, when Heero finally pulled back. The Japanese boy lay his head on Duo’s chest as they both got their breath back; the only sound in the room that of their panting.
And when Heero raised his head to speak, Duo beat him to it. “That was nice,” he purred, using his most seductive look, knowing that lust darkened his eyes to a deep purple. His hands, too, were busy; one rubbing the bulge pressed against his side and the other teasing one of Heero’s nipples though the thin tank top. The Japanese bucked helplessly into those hands.
“I know you want me, Heero. I can feel it, could feel it before. You meant everything you said. You want to take me, pound me deep into the mattress, hear me plead, hear me scream and groan and moan your name. You want to watch me writhe and arch under you, bucking and grinding. You want to lick every inch of me and suck me dry. You want me helpless and painfully aroused under you, shamelessly begging to be your slut. You want me on my knees, ass thrusting into the air, begging you to fuck me and make me yours. You want me.”
Heero was whimpering slightly as Duo’s hand slipped inside the stretchy spandex and cupped his leaking erection, and he let out a helpless moan when one thumb began rubbing slowly over the head. With Duo’s body undulating against his, Heero was in no condition to think clearly. If he was, he might remember that Duo’s knee was broken. He might realize that Duo had just repeated almost the exact same words he’d thrown out just a day ago, in the same order, the same tone. He might realize Duo was watching him intently, his every move and his every reaction, with eyes that were lust-filled yet also shone with a clarity, a kind of a painful hopeless love.
But he saw and heard none of that, he could only feel the pleasure he was receiving under skilled hands of a kind he’d never, ever felt before and had no idea how to deal with, how to fight, how to resist. He couldn’t think. And Duo would not have it any other way. He’d been trained for the art of seduction, the good doctor making full use of his natural good looks and body, and an inexperienced partner like Heero was all too easy to manipulate and bring to the point of mindless pleasure.
“Do you feel how good it is, Heero? I bet you’ve never pleasured yourself before. I bet yesterday was the first time you’ve ever said words like fuck and slut. I bet someone else touching you is so new that you can’t control your reactions, can you? I’ve received training, you know, about sexual pleasure and how to give it. I can make you feel good, Heero, and I already am, aren’t I?”
Words were just sounds, meaningless except for the way his groin wept at the feeling of being tortured by skilled hands and the husky lust in every syllable, the seduction in every nuance. Heero moaned again and thrust down against the hand that stroked him. “More…” he managed to choke out.
And Duo obeyed, loving each helpless moan and dying each time he heard it. He didn’t want this – didn’t want his first time in some dingy safe house that they would probably never see again – but this was for Heero. Because Heero needed this, needed some way to let go yet take control, calm his hormones and vent his pent-up emotions. He’d told the truth just now – yesterday he’d seen the want in Heero’s eyes, and he’d felt Heero’s need to rival his own, even if Heero himself didn’t seem to realize it. For all Heero might think himself in control, Duo could recognize lust when he saw it, and he was the only one who could take the brunt of Heero’s uncontrolled passions; the only one Heero trusted enough, wanted enough to do it with.
No. That wasn’t it, was it?
I make it sound so noble, so good, he thought helplessly to himself as he used one hand to tug Heero into straddling his chest, the other hand still stroking that erect cock under confining spandex. But the truth is… I’m selfish. I want him. I want him to be my first; I want to be his first. And if I let him go now, I won’t ever have a chance to touch him like this again.
Because the Perfect Soldier didn’t feel emotions, didn’t form attachments. He’d made it so clear, time and again. And there was only one choice left for Duo, now. He would take this from Heero, just this once, and consequences be damned.
Mouths devouring each other, feverish skin sliding, arousing, Duo released Heero’s cock, now wet with his own leaking cum, and lay passively on the bed, letting Heero take whatever he wanted, but careful to guide those bruising fingers and that carnal mouth above his waistline, always above. And Heero never noticed through his lust, gripping and biting and scraping American-pale skin without a care, leaving bruises and angry red streaks that he ignored in favour of feeling every inch of Duo, the little voice that pointed out Duo’s face tasted slightly saltier, felt just that little bit wetter, going unheeded.
And Duo didn’t stop him, even though every time Heero ground against him, his knee felt like it was on fire and the cuts on his thighs, having been re-opened, were bleeding through the thin wrapping, and he had numerous abrasions on his skin from Heero’s rough handling. He gritted his teeth and bore the pain mutely, since Heero didn’t seem to notice that he wasn’t showing any indication of enjoying this; hadn’t been ever since Heero had stretched out full-length on top of him and taken control. As long as Heero was happy, he wouldn’t stop this; no matter how painful it was physically… and mentally, since Heero showed no signs of caring about his enjoyment. And that was what made the tears slide from under his closed eyelids and down his cheek, and he prayed that Heero would not notice.
And even if he notices, would he care? a small voice whispered in his mind.
He would, Duo thought back fiercely. He has to.
He has to.
A hand rubbed at his cock, another at his nipple, and his other nipple was being sucked and nibbled gently by a hot, wet mouth. Gasping, not expecting such tender treatment, Duo felt himself getting a little hard as he entertained the idea that perhaps Heero cared, after all. He let Heero unzip his pant and slip a hand under his boxers, and whimpered a little at the feeling of the Japanese boy’s callused fingers take hold of his cock. It was enough to make him fully hard; he’d wanted this for so long. He’d wished, and hoped, gotten close to Heero whenever possible, and perhaps, perhaps it was finally paying off.
Heero… can you possibly, really do care?
A thumb swiped roughly along the slit at the top of his cock and he whimpered, freezing with the sensation. Heero did it again; his eyes flew open as he bucked a little into the warm hand around his cock, and he stared up into cobalt shadowed with lust and need and – no trace of anything else.
Duo’s breath caught.
Then the hand was gone, and he was roughly shoved over onto his front, Heero’s hands yanking at the waistband of his pants and boxers. Even in his dazed state, Duo managed to slap those hands away and pull the cloth down just enough to bare his ass yet cover his bandages. Wasting no time, Heero pulled his cheeks apart, and Duo reflexively tried to clench them, but only succeeding in making his hole tighten. He heard a growl behind him, an animalistic sound, and then he almost screamed but caught himself in time as Heero shoved a saliva-slicked finger in. One thrust, two thrusts, and then Heero let go of him and he was about to turn to see what he was doing –
Unbearable pain screamed along his spine, originating from the large, thick cock rammed into him without care, without preparation, only Heero’s own cum and Duo’s own sudden blood for lube. He clenched his fists in the sheets, praying he wouldn’t rip them as his eyes watered, biting clear through his lip to keep from making any noise, and chanted mentally this is Heero, it’s fine, it’s Heero and Heero doesn’t know, you can’t blame him as that cock rammed into him again and again, managing to hit his sweet spot a few times but even that couldn’t override the pain. He could hear Heero moaning, grunting, gasping as he set a hard and fast and furious pace, fingers like steep traps grabbing Duo’s hips and pulling, pushing Duo to meet his own thrusts –
It doesn’t hurt it doesn’t hurt it’s Heero it doesn’t hurt Heero won’t hurt me it doesn’t hurt oh god oh god oh god it –
– and his knee was shattering into a million fiery pieces and his thighs were wet with blood spilling from his cuts and his entrance –
– and then Heero froze, and cum was filling him, and for a second he felt saw heard tasted smelt everything around him, memorized the instant with crystalline clarity when Heero marked him, when Heero came –
– and it was over.
Heero slumped down on top of Duo, knocking the breath out of him, and the few seconds it took for Duo to get his breath back was apparently enough time for Heero to get his wits back after his first orgasm. Enough time for Duo’s blossoming hope to crumble and die.
Disgust. Clear, pure disgust in Heero’s tenor-baritone, slightly nasal, to all appearances emotionless but actually full of tiny inflections that Duo nevertheless understood because he’d analyzed every bit of that faintly accented speech. An understanding that told him this disgust wasn’t slight and it manifested itself blatantly in one syllable, along with undiluted fury.
The weight was gone, cool air suddenly washing over his back, and he heard Heero striding into the adjoining bathroom, muttering under his breath. Duo slowly flipped over onto his back, flinching, and pulled his knees up to his chest, snagging a blanket to cover himself and all the blood as he did so. A few agonizing minutes ticked past, and then the bathroom door was flung open so hard it rebounded against the wall, and Heero came out.
Some part of Duo cried out at the utterly emotionless face.
Heero stopped at the foot of the bed. His gaze slowly travelled from the blood-stained, crumpled blankets up to Duo’s pale face. “You planned this,” he said calmly, too-calmly. “You did, didn’t you? Did you want me to feel guilty about it? You purposely made me lose my head, made use of my inexperience to make yourself into the victim so that I would be the aggressor. You can’t be a virgin, you’re too good at it – you lied to Quatre, didn’t you? He trusted you. We all did. You made yourself out to be so pure and good, but it’s all a lie. How many times have you lied to us all?”
Lying is a sin, Duo. One of the worst. You not only betray your conscience, but you betray your friends and those who brought you up to be good. If there’s one thing you learn from here, my child, let that be not lying. Let that be not betraying those who trust you and love you.
“Wufei’s right, you were a whore. L2 is infamous for that, isn’t it? It’s said no one can grow up there without resorting to whoring, and that those who do eventually grow to like it, to become experts. You’re one of them, aren’t you? You must be.”
If ya meets some’un who wants yer body, run like hell, hear me? We may be rats, but we all still have limits t’ how far we’ll go. So never, ever sell yerself. If ya live to that age, save it fer th’one ya love.
“I wondered about it at first, you know. I had the nagging feeling that something was wrong, that I shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t play such a joke on you. But it was Relena’s idea, and women are supposed to be more sensitive to such things, so I thought it would be alright. Wufei agreed. And now I see that they’re right. It’s all so clear, when I think about it now. I’m just worried that you might have transferred some sort of disease to me. I hope you’re not as selfish as that. I’ll assume whatever you have, it’s non-transmittable.”
Duo sat there numbly, watching the blank expression on Heero’s face, the calm, reasonable words that nevertheless hurt like nothing he’d felt before. His eyes saw that perfect body without registering it, the glistening skin, the strong, lean, slim build that only a Gundam pilot would have with their unique training. The body he’d ruined with his selfish wants, his tainted touches.
He realized that Heero had stopped speaking and slowly raised his eyes to blank cobalt blue. Heero’s eyes were terrifyingly emotionless. And then without another word he turned, ignoring his scattered clothes, and strode out of the room, leaving Duo sitting perfectly still on the bed, gaze still fixed on the air where the man he loved had just been standing.
His throat was tight, his eyes blurring – to his horror, he realized he was about to cry. No no, boys don’t cry, he told himself, raising a heavy hand to wipe the tears away, but then he let the arm drop as they trickled down his face silently. Damn. Sorry Solo… I can’t control it. I know I’m weak, but can’t you forgive me just this once? I royally screwed up this time. Just this once, let me be weak.
Heero, I’m sorry. I’m so very, very sorry. Can I ever make it up to you? Is there any way? Gods, if there’s a way… I’ll do it. I’ll do it.
He blindly felt for the knife strapped to his calf and pulled it out, then pushed his pants down to his knees. The white bandages had become red, and he peeled them off, biting his lip to keep from screaming when he had to tear the cloth off his open wounds. Tears blurred and dripped, the salt like acid on his torn flesh, as he lay the knife against his thigh again and savagely pushed. Deeper, deeper, for this was nothing compared to the magnitude of his sin…
The cuts before were to remind him never to be weak again, never to let others affect him so much. He knew now, though, that he’d been naïve before – what he felt for Heero was too deep to be forgotten. It was a weakness too ingrained in him to be defeated. He accepted it, understood that he would never be able to have Heero, and never be able to leave him. He understood that he wasn’t worthy to love Heero, to have his love.
Before, he cut as a reminder. Now, it was punishment.
The knife drove deep, over and over again.
Father. Solo. I’ve let you down, let you both down. I keep lying to myself, and I keep being so weak, so very weak. I’ve been selfish to the point of hurting others for my own sake. I hurt Heero and lied to myself about why I was doing it. So what if I hurt, too? He had the right. I took away his control, knowing that he didn’t know what to do, and I can only blame myself for what he did.
He curled up into a tight ball around the knife, staring bleakly at the metal blood-dulled blade. I can’t really do anything to make up for this, can I? I’ll just have to stay away from Heero forever, that’s all. I’ll have to love him and protect him in secret, from afar, so that I won’t be tempted and he won’t have to suffer seeing me. I’ll do whatever he wants; give him whatever he needs, without letting him know it’s me. I’ll serve him till the day I die, and when I die it’ll be for him, because I can’t imagine anything else. For him, I’ll do anything.
He bound his thighs tightly with strips of bedsheet, knowing and ignoring the fact that the cloth would stick to the wounds and cause untold agony when removed because I deserve it, deserve the pain and then, exhausted, fell asleep to the burn of bone-deep wounds and a bleeding ache in his chest.
The next time Heero saw Duo was three days later, when they met each other in the hallway as the afternoon faded into evening. They both stopped in their tracks, and then Heero’s jaw tightened in a way that told Duo he’d come to some sort of hard decision.
“You owe me.”
Duo blinked. “What?”
“I… touched myself, but it did not satisfy me. You owe me, Maxwell. I don’t know how you did it, but I cannot control my body anymore. Nothing satisfies this, this hunger. I keep seeing your face in my mind. I have come to the conclusion that my body needs yours.”
“Societal norms dictate of people who have sex that they become couples. This I cannot allow between us. You stand out. You are unnatural. If I am with you I will become unnatural as well. I cannot risk that. I will settle down with Relena if I survive the war, and I will not need you any more. Yet I need you now, as Relena is currently a threat to our security. Do you understand?”
Duo bowed his head. He understood, all too well; he had no right to refuse, to protest, if that was what Heero wanted. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I owe you. You can take me whenever you want on one condition – you only do it from the back, and you never ask anything about my body or what you see on it.”
“Why would I ask anything? It’s not as if it’s important to me. I accept your conditions. Do we have an agreement?”
It hurt so much to hear those words, but he deserved it. He knew that. “Yes.”
Heero slammed Duo against the wall with his trained speed, startling a gasp from the American, and took advantage of that open mouth to plunder it. Duo closed his eyes, willing his knee not to give out. It was hard, and fast, and brutal, and when Heero was done he stepped back and waited for Duo to pull up his pants and turn, and then he nodded at Duo, went into his room, and shut and locked the door firmly behind him. Duo stood there for a second, a silent black figure in the fading amber glow of the setting sun, then slowly slid down onto the floor, where he silently jerked himself off, watching images of Heero behind closed lids.
It was the same the next time.
And the next.
And the next…
“Quat! How are ya! Long time no see!”
“Duo! Oh, it’s wonderful to see you again!”
“So, how are things with you and bang-boy?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking that of you and Heero? I can’t feel your emotions, Duo. Why are you hiding –”
“Q, my dear, you worry too much! Heero and I have an – agreement. I don’t pester him, and he considers letting me be on top the next time! Ooh, you blushing, Quat-kitty?”
“Duo! Still, that doesn’t explain –”
“Do you honestly want to keep feeling lust all the time, Quat?”
“Yes, oh. So don’t worry, wipe that charming blush off your face and tell me all about you and loverboy, hmm?”
“Are you sure –”
“Come on, details, details!”
“Well… oh, you wouldn’t believe how sweet Trowa is. You really wouldn’t expect it from him…”
Those who normally do not read my fics? DO NOT read this. It's one of the most disturbing chapters I've writen. I am very, very serious about this.
Again, this post is for organisational purposes. Decided that it was too troublesome to edit my website.
Oh yes. I've edited Joke 1 to 5, which is what was there previously, and am writing Joke 6.