Disclaimer: I don't own the g-boys, I just worship them from afar. Don't sue, I have nothing! Nothing!
Pairings: 1x2, Duo's P.O.V.
Warning: Bondage (He deserved it), language, angst, Yaoi, lemon, violence, Mooshy Mooshy love between two guys. (Peril
sensitive sunglasses not included).
Black and blue. That describes me. Usually, it was just a punch; a few cracked ribs, a broken arm, time to heal and laugh it off, and then everything was back to normal... well, as normal as it could be with a guy like Heero Yuy as a partner. We played our parts perfectly, I, the demented, fun loving Baka and Heero, the grim, emotionless soldier. I liked to push his buttons. I really didn't blame him for fighting back once in awhile.
When he came home, I had already worked halfway through a bottle of vodka, drowning my own sorrows, so what happened next was pretty much my fault. My tongue was loose, my temper up, and I was ready to defend him against anything and anyone. The words that slipped out were completely unintentional, but I meant every word. Heero knew it too.
"That bitch! Did she really say that, Heero? Just forget her! She could never love you as much as I do!"
Heero was standing in the doorway of our room, leaning wearily against the jam, soaked from a downpour and heart weary. He'd just come from hearing another one of Relena's 'Queen of the World' sessions, where she looked down at him and demanded that he devote his life to her, sans marriage of course. I think she really just wanted a bodyguard, the best in the Universe; Heero the trained killer.
"What?" Heero blinked at me, wiping at the rain on his forehead and looking like a deer in headlights.
"I uh...," I stood there stupidly, the towel I had been going to dry him off with, held tight in my hands. I stood only two feet from him. I quickly backed up a step. I was only dressed in a bathrobe, my hair loose and drying from a shower. I wasn't dressed or prepared for hand to hand combat. That's why I went down so quickly.
I'm trained to kill, just like Heero. We practiced together, honing our skills. I knew I was a match for him... still, I was so shocked by my own revelation, that I didn't get my guard up fast enough. Anyone will tell you, the guy who gets in the first punches usually wins. This wasn't any exception.
I was stunned by the complete brutality. Well, stunned until I began to understand what was behind it. Heero's face, hanging above mine as he pinned me to the floor and beat the hell out of me, was twisted in a wild mixture of grief, longing, and.... I stared hard until he blacked out both my eyes. I wasn't wrong. I saw love in Heero's blue eyes right before I couldn't see anything else. Heero Yuy loved me back, only, he couldn't deal with it. Emotions were a threat to him. He knew only one way to deal with threats. He eliminated them. That was why Relena had been the perfect, unattainable girlfriend for him. With her, he didn't have to mess with those dangerous emotions because he'd never loved Relena. I wish that he did, then it would be Relena getting the crap beat out of her right now instead of me.
It was over. Heero finally backed away, panting. I heard the creak of his chair as he sat down in front of his laptop and began to type as if nothing had happened. He had closed me out, deleted my presence, downloaded another reality where Duo Maxwell didn't love him. He knew I wouldn't dare say it to him ever again. If I lived, which I sorely doubted at the moment, I didn't think I would either. I'm crazy Maxwell, but not that crazy!
I coughed blood. Ribs burned. My arm was twisted. My face. I didn't want to see my face. I whimpered as I tried to sit up. I could feel things inside of my body move the wrong way. The pain was incredible; white, hot, searing, and completely unbearable. I bit my lips to stop myself from crying like a wounded puppy. I had my pride!
"Hey!" Quatre poked his head through the door. The blonde Arabian sounded relaxed and pleasant. "What do you guys want me to make for dinner?" His next words were almost a shriek and spouted only a second after the word 'dinner', "God! Heero! What have you done!"
Good ol' Quatre! I feel his small hands touching my body anxiously and then he was running, shouting down stairs for help. He'd take care of everything. I didn't have any worries from then on... at least nothing but that big worry, whether I was going to survive Heero's brand of love or not.
Is he ever going to say anything? Everyone left after bringing me my favorite junk food, a few flowers to brighten up the hospital room, and a few off color jokes about not groping the nurses. Heero stayed behind. He was right next to the bed, just staring at me with those deep set, blue eyes and that blank slate he calls a face. I wonder if he's going to ask why I didn't accuse him, why I told everyone that I had been on a mission and been roughed up by Oz security. Heero didn't like anyone lying about missions. He was as anal retentive about facts as any man can get. He lived and breathed them. I know, somewhere in his laptop, he keeps a log. I know, in that log, that there's a new entry. Time, date: beat up fag. Well, I'm not a fag, actually. I just love whom I love. When you've grown up on L2, and been forced to be a prostitute, gender stops being an important consideration.
You take what you can get when you're Shinigami and always surrounded by death and destruction. I guess that's why I don't spit at him and try to hit him right then and there. Instead, I just stare back, wondering how to at least salvage our friendship. If that's all I can have, well, I can live on that. Being alone sucks. Being alone without Heero sucks even more. In case you're blaming me, calling me Baka, and worse, it's something to remember that Heero could have killed me, easily, and didn't. If that isn't proof of his love, then I don't know what is.
"You should have rolled and kicked. That would have given you enough room to escape," Heero growls.
An apology? Well, it was, for Heero. I pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. "Yeah," I grin through the fog of painkillers and bandages. "I need to practice more. Will you help me out with that, Heero? Show me how you did that lower chop to my back. It really numbed my legs. I couldn't do a thing after that."
"Hai," Heero agrees. He stares at me again. Something in his eyes flickers. I brace myself for another beating. The emotion, whatever it is, doesn't bother him enough to make him lash out. A little guilt maybe. When he suddenly presses his gun into my hand and helps me tuck it under the covers, I can hardly believe it. For Heero, whose gun is his most prized possession, an extension of his body he can't do without, it is a declaration of marriage. I feel tears in my eyes. I struggle to hold them back. "To keep you safe." Heero grunts in way of explanation and then leaves without another word.
"You're mine now, Heero," I say to the empty room, grinning from ear to ear despite the pain it causes my face. "Now, I just have to figure out how to love a man who's a ticking time bomb, a rabid grizzly bear, and a cold blooded killer all rolled into one."
Why try? Why court such a deadly relationship? The truth is hard to hear. I'm not an innocent. I'm as much a cold blooded killer as Heero, I just feel bad about it afterwards. My life is violent. I'm never going to have a nice house, a white picket fence, a dog, two kids, and a gentle lover. Hell, I'll probably be dead before I'm sixteen, shooting Oz soldiers from the seat of my Gundam. When you live like that, Heero's just a challenge, a fortress to infiltrate, a system to hack, a good fuck, hopefully, pure and simple. I try never to think about tomorrow. I probably won't have one. I'm certainly never going to have to worry about a lifetime dodging Heero's fists. Knowing that, it's easy to forgive and forget. Life IS really too short to hold a grudge for someone in my position. Besides, I really love Heero and I won't give him up now that I know he feels the same way. First things first though. I have to heal, heal enough to deal with the Perfect Soldier.
"Hn?"
"Sleeping pills in your tea," I say in Heero's ear and grin.
Heero thrashes. He's naked and disoriented, tied hand and foot to the bed frame of my bed. He has enough slack to just come up on all fours, but not enough to bring arms or legs into hitting positions. I'm safe, at least safe until he figures out how to get loose.
"Perfect. Now we can get a few things straight," I say and slide myself under him, intending the pun. Heero thrashes, glaring at me in a way I recognize. I'm going to die, those chilly eyes promise, which is why I had hid both our guns and my knife before I attempted this stunt.
"I love you, Heero," I tell him, coming close enough to his face to kiss his lips. He has them set hard together. I run my tongue over them. He jerks his head away. "I love you, Heero," I repeat and tickle his lips again, chasing him no matter how he turns his head. "I've always loved you, always wanted you."
I'm naked too, of course, and I stroke my hard on in anticipation, staring at Heero's angry, sweating face above mine. "I know you'll never say you love me back. I know you won't hold me, or touch me, or even be pleasant to me. That's not Heero. I know it never will be. This, though, we can have. I'll stalk you... I know you like it... and I'll capture you, my tiger, when you least expect it. Here, like this, we'll forget about the Perfect Soldier and Shinigami. Here, you can fuck me silly, feel a body against yours, allow some emotion to slip out, without being afraid that your training will kick in and you'll kill the object of your affections. Here, life will be perfect, just for a little while. Promise me...promise me one thing, though, for this that I'm about to give you, Heero. Promise not to kill me when it's over, K? Just chalk it up to some weirdo training session that you have to learn to endure?"
Heero nods, once.
I smile and it is soft and inviting. "I'm not a virgin, Heero. I'm a hot- blooded teenager, ex-whore. I'm wide enough to drive a truck into." I giggle, nervous at the revelation, knowing Heero doesn't care, that he isn't going to think less of me. He has his own horrible past. Chances are, knowing Dr. J's evil too well, Heero isn't a virgin either. Still, I'm Uke (Submissive) and Heero is definitely Seme (dominant). We both know who's going to do the fucking in our relationship.
"K," I say, going sultry. "Time to start the training session."
I still have bruises and contusions from my last battle with Heero. I'm cautious as I crawl between his legs, watching him pull at the ropes, hearing the bed frame creak as he tests the strength of the metal frame. He isn't giving in as easily as he pretends. It kills the excitement between my legs, until I see what he had between his. Heero is already standing at attention. He's large. I feel my mouth water and my own body stiffens again.
I tease him, stroking the underside of his cock with my rough tongue. Heero groans and twitches. I bet Dr. J never did anything like that! I lap into the opening, sucking just the hole, and taste pre-cum already drooling out. Going further under him, I nuzzle his balls gently, rolling my tongue around their hair covered sack and nipping at the space between it and his cock. Heero jumps and curses. I laugh and suck at the spot. Heero's curse turns into a moan as I stroke hard and rough all the way to the tip of his cock again. He is definitely getting blue balls. His cock thrusts, trying to get into my mouth.
"I'm not going to waste it there," I laugh, retrieving the tube of lube. Stroking him as little as possible, I apply it liberally. That big cock was going to hurt even me if I wasn't careful.
Spreading the lube onto my fingers, I stroke my own ass and prepare myself, sinking the lube and my fingers inside of me as deep as I can go. I almost make myself come before I relax enough to take the monster bobbing and twitching between Heero's legs. Eagerly, I turn on my stomach and back up until my ass is under Heero's belly.
I feel almost embarrassed, taking the 'bitch in heat' position. If Heero refuses to follow through now, I don't think I can ever face him man to man again.
I shouldn't have worried. Heero is as much a teenager as I am, with the same hormones, too, though I'm sure he denies it to himself. As soon as he feels my ass brush his python, he jams it into me like a stallion mounting a mare, violent, just as I expected, and so full of need that it doesn't last long. He pistons in and out of me, grunting, digging his bound hands into the sheets of the bed as he shoves that monster as far as it will go into my ass.
I rip. I cry. I endure. One. Two. Three... Five. Six. I'm going to die! Seven. Eight. I can't take any more! Nine. Please! ...Eleven. Twelve...
Heero cries out, "Fuck!" and comes inside of me, shooting hot cum against my prostate. I reach under myself then, as he finally holds still and the pain stops, and I jerk myself until I come. That doesn't take long either. I'm ready, had been ready since I first met him.
Heero flexes his butt muscles and pulls that monster, covered in my blood, out of me. I hiss and the world wavers. I lay flat underneath him, face resting in soft sheets as I try just to breathe. I'd lied to Heero. I wasn't as wide as a truck. I hadn't been with anyone after I fell in love with him. No one had seemed good enough.
I roll over as Heero moves against the ropes impatiently. It's over now. He wants to get back to work. I just want a soft cushion and something to numb my aching ass. I reach up and stroke his face. He glares down at me. I kiss his lips, stroke them one last time, and then reluctantly get out of bed. I eye the distance between the bed and the bathroom. It's my only hope if I want to live.
"Love you, Heero," I whisper as I loosen the knot of one wrist.
Heero moves with the speed of a striking snake to get free. I run for the bathroom. I hear the bed springs creak. I know he's already off the bed, chasing me. He doesn't need a weapon to kill me. He is a fucking weapon! I make it into the bathroom before he gets me, just, and slam the door in his face. I lock it and sink to the floor in exhaustion. Heero slams his fists against it halfheartedly. After awhile, he goes away. He only has to wait for me to open the door. I can't stay in the bathroom forever.
I take a shower, tend my wounds, gather my courage, and, after several hours, open the door.
Heero is sitting at his desk, typing on his laptop. He doesn't look at me as I slowly sidle towards the door of our room, ready to run for it. I nervously look over at my bed, expecting to see blood, disordered sheets, and the ropes hanging from the frame. Instead, I see that Heero has cleaned everything up, my bed made with military precision. A declaration of his love the only way he can make it. I feel my heart flying. I'd found a way to love and make love to the Perfect Soldier. I'm not going to die, not today and, hopefully, black and blue won't be my color any longer.
Owari