Blows
by syrupjunkie
The door swings shut quietly. "Sit down, Heero. I've got some
things to say to you." No movement. Duo watches a taut back and a
faint transparent reflection on the window and sighs. "Just sit
down Heero."
Heero sits, eyes steady like a blizzard in a snow globe. He sits
stubbornly silent.
Duo crosses the bare wood floor, half leaning, half sitting on a
desk. "I want you to answer something for me, Heero. Do you ever
wonder why we're like this? Hot and cold and fucking hard all the
time? You ever wonder why we play cock tease for a week, fuck for
the next and start over again?"
The addressee stays silent, the dart of the eyes the only signal the
question had been heard.
Duo, for his part, merely adjusts his grip and seats himself fully
on the paper strewn desk. "I bet you even think what we have is
normal. Those times in the classroom, on the teacher's desk? In
the gundams? You think it's normal when I bend you over something,
spread those cheeks and shove it in there? Is it normal to feel
like a rapist when I fuck you, to feel wrong to enjoy the best
feeling there is in the world?"
"No." The lips move and close, and the eyes scan across the room to
meet Duo's gaze. And then drag down until they rest on the inviting
bulge between Duo's legs.
"I sometimes wonder why you like it so much. I'm sure it hurts like
a bitch. But every time I force it in, you try to swallow more.
And you beg - you beg me, Heero - with that catch in your voice as if
I'm ripping your insides apart, but you're okay with it because
you're used to carnage. It's amazing like that Heero. But I only
play the villain cause you want it. You ever think how fucked up
that is?"
The eyes stay level and the tongue makes a pass across dry
lips. "No."
Duo is fully aware of what Heero is watching, and what he is doing.
Duo knows this and ignores this. "Didn't think so, Heero. You
don't think about these things. You like getting down on you knees
and sucking me off like there's no tomorrow. But you never wonder
why. You know I hurt you on purpose, but you've never ask about
it. In fact, you've probably never noticed, have you?"
Heero shifts in his seat, settling a lazy hand over his lap, fingers
dipping down and brushing up against himself, playing a slow game
for Duo's sake. There is a coyness in the shadows beneath his
eye. "I notice."
"But you don't care, that it? Jesus Heero, I keep hoping one of us
starts to see how utterly insane everything is. Quatre, who plays
the violin like a fucking virtuoso, the same kid who gets his brain
liquefied by ZERO. Wufei, married before puberty, running around
with sword and some fucking crazy idea about honor. Hell, I'm
walking around with an alter ego that some days I think is
controlling me and not the other way around. But you take the cake,
Heero. A boy who wants to be a machine, who's crazy enough to try
to save the whole damned Earth sphere, who lives barely on the cusp
of humanity. A child Heero, a fifteen year old child, who begs me
to fuck him like a whore, who obeys and submits and doesn't think
about the consequences of getting from point A to point B. I wake
up everyday and hope that the next time I close my eyes and open
them, you'll finally start making sense. But you never do. That's
why it hurts Heero. Every time."
Duo notices the faint outline of
Heero's erection underneath the spandex; Heero is deliberately
drawing attention to it as he massages himself while Duo talks.
Duo's mouth draws rigid and pinched. "Maybe that's where I went
wrong, Heero. I just went ahead and hoped you'd try to figure it
out. Maybe you need to be told."
The fingers slow and stop for a moment. There is a conspicuous spot
on the front of his shorts; it shines differently from the spandex
in the low light escaping into the room from underneath the
door. "Told what?"
"Told why we do what we do. Why I do what I do." Duo slides
himself off the desk and yanks Heero's head upward by his
hair. "Why I hurt you as much as I can. We've been at this for
months, Heero. I don't think you'll ever really figure it out."
Duo's smile is brittle and bitter; he lets go of Heero's hair and
smoothes a dry lip with his thumb. "You'd never even think of
trying to understand, stupid fucking robot."
Heero's hands have stilled completely; his tongue comes out to lick
Duo's passing fingers. A game of tag, a game of chicken. "So why?"
"Because you deserved it Heero. You needed it. I wanted to make
you feel something intense. Not just intense, consuming."
The fingers have abandoned Heero's face and short nails are leaving
white-pink trails down Heero's neck and chest. "I wanted to make
you want to feel, to want it so bad you'd do anything. You'd suffer
for it; you'd break every rule in the book and every bone in your
body. And if I could make you feel like that, and hurt you at the
same time, all the better. Maybe you'd become sane for once, become
a normal kid for while. Maybe you'd realize it hurt so bad when it
didn't have to, and ask me to do it right and love you right. And
then maybe I'll have saved someone's life for a change and wash the
blood off my hands. Maybe I'd feel like a fucking guardian angel
undercover in devil's clothes."
Duo circles around Heero and
crouches down so that his mouth hovers over the shell of Heero's
ear. His hands press into the softening flesh between Heero's
legs. He feels the organ stir and rubs in small circles. "Maybe if
you blew me, you wouldn't blow yourself. Maybe I thought if I came
in your ass, I'd leave some part of me with you, protect you from
yourself, Heero. Maybe love could save you." Duo laughs in
distraction, and gives no relief to Heero's tensing body and the
heat of arousal under his fingertips. "Maybe a lot of things,
Heero.."
Heero shifts slightly and brings himself into Duo's hand more
firmly. Duo has stilled his movement and Heero moves his hips in
circles and screws his cock against Duo's palm. He breathes slowly
for a while and his head becomes light and everything is beautifully
empty. "It's there." He pushes harder, then places both his hands
on Duo's and moves Duo's hand up and down over his cock. It feels
amazing. "It's there, Duo. You put it there." He strains now,
taking the limp hand and rubbing it furiously over himself, sure
that he is giving Duo spandex burn. Heero groans. "You did.
You.." He comes like a virgin, embarrassed for his mess.
Embarrassed for his involuntary admission.
Duo's hands finally stir after a long while. They map out the
extent of the wetness over Heero's crotch and leave Heero's body.
Then Duo stands up and opens the door. The hallway light is
blindingly bright and it washes away his features; his body is only
an indistinct silhouette. His voice is low and careful - it is raw
and painful in way that only desperation can be. "I hope so,
Heero. I fucking hope so."
The door shuts with a whispering sound behind him.
The silence is overpowering. The afterglow of orgasm is gone and so
is Duo. Heero feels an awakening, foreign pain. The fear of
absence is crawling around inside his chest like a writhing snake of
hunger. He touches the wetness of his shorts; his fingers come away
sticky and cold. He wants Duo's breath in his ear again; he wants
Duo's hands in his. He begs to no one with a voice that is hoarse
and unsteady; he feels as if he has been ripped apart and put back
together with someone else's parts. "Felt it, Duo.." he croaks. His
hands fall back to his groin. "Right here Duo; you left it right
here. Here.." It is the first time Heero Yuy, the soldier, cries.
Duo Maxwell hears this from the head of the stairs and is grimly
satisfied. He knows his is not a lost cause.
AN: anyone a little lost? me too. Anyway, on that note, everyone
have a good holiday season.
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