Warnings: Strong BDSM, Sub/Dom warnings! No messing around here, if you
don't like that sort of thing, please avoid this story.
Summary: Duo left this part of his life behind years ago, but some habits
are hard to break.
In all my life, which in all
honesty isn't exactly up there with Methuselah or anything, I've only
found one indisputable truth.
Oh, sure, you might have your moments where everything is going like an
episode of Sesame Street, just happy cookie breaks and counting, and then
Big Bird steps off a curb in front of the 3:30 bus and splat, right back
to rule number one. Life sucks.
Which would be why I am here right now wearing leather pants that are
about a year too tight on me instead of at home watching the mid- morning
cartoons and eating a bowl of Lucky Charms, or maybe Froot Loops. Oh,
no, instead of sitting in my nice, comfy recliner that I liberated from
someone's front porch a while ago, I'm on a decrepit old subway train
that is making increasingly ominous noises as it speeds up.
All because of a phone call I got at five this morning, and we all know
that no phone call that come before there is light can possibly be anything
good. And believe me, it wasn't.
In fact, I take it all back. Life doesn't just suck; it sucks hard, like
a fucking Hoover.
The train creaked to a stop at the station and I was so glad that the
damn thing actually did stop that I didn't even mind the way the brakes
shrieked for a good ten seconds first. If you make it out alive then it's
not polite to be too picky.
Now, if you stepped off the 8:00am transfer to the fifth quadrant, like
I am, with the other hundred people who come here for business transactions
you'd see why all of them risk their lives on the train every day instead
of actually living here.
The first thing you notice is the smell, the stench of filth and unwashed
bodies crammed together into a few square miles of living space. The water
shortages now are nothing like what L-2 went through when I was a kid,
but habits are hard to break and the recyclers in this part of the colony
are still shitty pieces of junk, giving you bowl of gray piss-scented
water that's supposed to be safe to drink.
I walked out of the station and down the trash littered street to the
Ninth and Center crosswalk, and had to make myself keep going. Just the
sight of this place made me sick to my stomach. The greasy, filthy inhabitants
of fifth quadrant, human flotsam that drifted in and out of existence,
repulsed me. Some of them would manage to scratch out a living, if you
could call it that, most of them would die in a burst of drug-induced
happiness, and no one in the rest of the galaxy would give a shit either
A few of them glanced my way, looking at me just a second or so too long.
Not surprising considering what I was wearing, but I wasn't giving off
any signals so no one came over with any offers. It was just as well;
with the mood I was in I would cheerfully hand anyone who offered me a
credit chip his own balls for a souvenir.
It was bad enough to know that a few years ago I would have taken it,
but worse was the fact that I knew I'd nearly stayed one of them. If I'd
been a little less determined to get the hell out, a little more interested
in the chemical dream-life that most of my friends had been living, if
one man of the cloth had been just a little less caring about a dirty
faced, dirty-mouthed little boy, then this is where I'd still be.
And sometimes, I hate myself for managing to live when all the rest of
them are long dead. So I guess having to see all this again is really
a kind of justice. Chang would be so pleased.
A small group of dirty children were digging through a trash bin behind
a greasy-looking restaurant and I had to force myself to walk past them
as if they didn't even exist, because I'd be broke in a minute if I said
one word to them. If you offered a coin to one of them there would immediately
be another small, grubby hand begging for a coin of its own. And another,
and another until every cent you have is gone and there would still be
empty, pleading hands.
Some things never change.
It only took me a few minutes to get to the intersection, a lot faster
than I remember it being but then, my legs were probably shorter the last
time I was here. I won't ever be playing professional basketball but even
I've sprouted a couple inches in the past few years. There aren't many
cars in the fifth quadrant, not ones that run anyway, so I didn't even
wait for the light to change before I crossed over and started my way
It'd been years since I'd been on this street, not since long before the
war, and the day I walked away I had sworn to God and sonny Jesus that
there was nothing in the known universe that could drag my ass back down
So much for promises.
It wasn't all that far down Center, and I could smell it before I saw
it. I shivered slightly in recognition and it struck me as ironically
amusing that even after all these years only the faintest plastic scent
of imitation patchouli oil could have an effect on me. They practically
hosed the place down with it, making it the only building in the fifth
quadrant that didn't smell like piss and rotting garbage.
There was a small, faded sign hanging from rusted hooks on the outside,
but it didn't really matter. If you knew about Mona's then you sure as
hell didn't need a sign to point the way. If you didn't know then chances
were you weren't going in because you wanted to, and in that case a sign
wasn't going to do you a hell of a lot of good anyway.
I stopped at the front steps and stared mutely at the heavy wood door,
watching the occasional person push through it. A regular swarm of activity
was Mona's door, and I felt repulsed by my own sour humor. Yeah, some
things never change, especially down here.
Sometimes I wonder if I've changed all that much, either.
It occurred to me suddenly while I stood there on the shitty, crumbling
pavement that passed for a sidewalk that I could just walk away. I could
turn around right now without ever putting one foot on those steps, the
wood long ago worn as smooth as glass by the passing of thousands of feet.
I could keep that little promise to myself and just waltz on back to quadrant
one where I belonged, and tell Une anything I wanted, including a suggestion
on exactly how she could kiss my ass the next time she thought about asking
me for such a stupid fucking favor. I could just…leave.
Another person walked inside and let the door bang shut behind him, as
loud as a gunshot. I jumped and nearly staggered into an old woman scurrying
past, her arms loaded with dirty grocery bags. I smiled sheepishly in
reply to her glare before glancing back at the door, already feeling as
tired as if I'd been awake for a fucking week.
I could walk away, but I knew I wouldn't. If I'd wanted to hide from all
the little fucked up aspects of my life then I wouldn't have come back
to L-2 in the first place.
After the whole Meriemeia incident, I spent about a year working for the
Preventers. It was good, you know? Good work we were doing, good people
to be with…I haven't seen those people in so long. Une sends me updates
every once in a while. Sometimes I read it, sometimes I don't. One thing
I do appreciate is she's never asked me to come back to work. She was
the only person, out of all of them, who seemed to really understand.
People seem to think that I'm just this happy, grinning, fucking moron,
that I don't feel pain like others do. Just because I don't go around
screaming about justice or blowing up colonies doesn't mean I don't hurt.
A whole year working for them, just starting to believe that this peace
shit might actually be working and then I got to watch one of my closest
friends die, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.
There might not be OZ and enemy armies anymore, but there were still terrorists
who still set bombs. It was my assignment, my responsibility, but fuck,
I've never been any good with bombs, arming or disarming so I just let…I
I let my best friend die.
And I'd snapped, like a cheap rubber band, and I can admit it. One more
person who cared about me was dead, and the blood was still drying on
my hands. Again. I ran back to L-2 and I've been here ever since.
Quatre was the only person who actually tried to reason with me. Said
it wasn't my fault, and the psychobabble bullshit that you're supposed
to say to people who've had friends die. And it wasn't my fault. I know
it wasn't. It was the bastards who set the bomb and believe you me they
paid for that.
But Hilde is still dead. And it was still my mission. And I've been hiding
on L-2 eating Lucky Charms and Froot Loops for nearly six months now,
until I got a call from Une, who had never asked me to come back to work.
Another friend, neck deep in kimchee from a screwed up undercover assignment
and the closest agent she had to the situation was me. Someone's fragile
life was being tossed into my butterfingers again, for better or for worse,
and I took a deep breath, trying to make that, 'Jesus, I'm going to puke'
feeling go away before I finally walked up the stairs and through the
door, stepping back about four years into my fucked-up shithole of a life.
Everything was nearly exactly how I remembered it, from the tidy little
bar setup in one corner to the faded cushions on the sofas that were scattered
around. Even the people who were draped on those sofas looked pretty much
the same, different faces maybe, but a whore is a whore, and every one
of them had the same hollow cheeks and too pale skin that didn't see the
sun often enough.
A few of them glanced at me as I walked in, sizing up the potential business
and those shadowed eyes with their widened pupils looked just a little
too familiar to me, eyes that I had seen staring out from a mirror way
too fucking often.
I looked away from those eyes, with burning hunger lingering in their
depths, and studied the house instead. It was pretty quiet, about what
you could expect for 8:00am, but not totally. A businessman or two who
came in before they had to be at the office was the norm for this time
of morning. Not as suspicious, you know. The wife might start wondering
if you come home late every night but leaving early never seemed to set
off the warning alarms.
"Well, well, well, look who has ventured back into our little establishment!"
I nearly jumped out of my pants at that, which would have been quite a
feat considering how tight they were, but I recognized the voice an instant
later. Bracing myself, I turned around to look at the one familiar face
that was still here.
"Hey, Tio," I said, faking pleasure at seeing him. Tio had been running
Mona's for years, long after the grand dame herself had retired to someplace
a little less fragrant than L-2. Nice enough guy, Tio, but for all his
fancy clothes and the airs he tried to put on, he was just another used-up
old slut like the rest of us, only now all his money came from what other
people earned on their backs instead of his own.
At least that's what I tried to tell my racing heart and suddenly my pants
felt even tighter. From the soft, dark curls of his hair to his bright
green eyes with only the faintest lines around them betraying his age,
Tio hadn't changed enough for my tastes. Or maybe the trouble was he was
still a little too close to my tastes.
He was leaning on the same wooden cane he'd had when I'd left, an old,
nicked-up piece of mahogany that had more sentimental value than actual
worth. Not that he really needed it, but if you asked about it, Tio would
be more than happy to demonstrate its real purpose. I shivered a little
in spite of the sudden heat in the room at a memory of that cane. Yeah,
Tio was a nice enough guy, and talented besides…he'd taught me a few lessons
Patting my arm lightly, he gestured for me to follow him into one of the
side parlors. The second he turned around I adjusted the trouser monster
that had sprouted in my pants, ignoring the snicker of the hookers behind
me. Probably half of them would trade their false eyelashes and maybe
a bottle of extra-slick Astroglide to be going into a private room with
Tio; a shame that I'm not really in a position to appreciate it.
Ignoring the mental images that the word 'position' stirred up, I followed
Tio into the other room. He was settling himself on one of the faded chairs
and laid his cane on the cushion beside him. He waited politely until
I was sitting on the sofa across from him before he spoke. "And what brings
you here, sweet, business or pleasure?"
I nearly winced at that old nickname. How much else had I forgotten? Probably
not enough to get me in trouble and sure as hell not as much as I remembered.
I'd been remembering all morning long, since I'd heard Une say in that
little apologetic voice of hers that she needed me to come here.
"Aren't they the same thing here?" I replied, laughing easily as I tried
to ignore the voice in the back of my head that pleaded with me to get
on my knees, to press openmouthed kisses to the worn wood of that cane.
To beg. I didn't need any of Quatre's little psychic powers to read Tio,
to know he'd take me back if I begged him prettily enough. He was the
only person I'd ever begged for, and, fuck, if Tio didn't know it. But
he'd also let me go, once, and there was no guaranteeing he'd do it again
a second time.
And the way I'd been feeling lately, I was more afraid that this time
I wouldn't want to go.
Tio didn't laugh but he smiled, a little, which was actually a grin for
him. Reminded me of someone else I know, the same person whose fuck-up
was forcing me to be here again. "They are the same here, sometimes, aren't
they, sweet." Not a question and I swallowed hard as Tio's eyes traced
over my body, damning the fact that I'd worn leathers that Tio would sure
as hell remember and damning even more the fact that I hadn't had a choice.
It was like all the years I had been gone had suddenly melted away and
I could almost feel the chafe of a collar around my neck. Almost.
Tio let me squirm for a minute and then let it go, raising his eyes back
to mine as if everything was just peachy keen. The bastard. "Tell me,"
he asked softly, "Does it feel strange to be on the other side of the
I felt my mouth twist in a wry smile. Time to remind someone that the
collar was off and had been for some time. "Whatever happened to respecting
the privacy of the paying customers?" I asked lightly.
Not that I can blame him for being a little too familiar. We knew each
other pretty well, or at least we had. At one time I'd been the best little
slave he had. I'd been a whore too, I've never made any secret of that,
but believe me it was better to make people pay for it than ending up
giving it away free on the streets. And people will pay good money for
some strange things.
And after a while, after you learn that you have a little talent for it,
you can enjoy some pretty damn strange things too. Another tidbit I'd
learned working here and it was a lesson I'd been trying hard to forget.
Tio raised an eyebrow and I knew what he was thinking. If all I'd wanted
was a ten-credit fuck then why had I followed him here? "Ah, is that what
you are tonight? Looking for anything…special?"
I sprawled back on the sofa, stretching in such a way that my shirt pulled
up a little and I didn't bother to hide my smirk as Tio's eyes darkened.
I wasn't the only one with old memories. "Something young," I said, softly,
Yeah, Heero would be something exotic, all right. Tio would see to that.
I could see Tio was considering what I'd said and I waited, more or less
patiently. Pushing would only hurt me right now and Tio knew my tastes
better than I did. If Yuy was here, I'd get him. Hell, the black-market
sales of the tape he'd make of us together would more than make up for
losing an extra chance to have me between the sheets and, if nothing else,
Tio was a businessman.
"I may have something that you would find appealing," Tio said finally,
quietly, and he picked up his cane. I followed him out into the main lobby
and to the back rooms, ignoring the renewed interest of the whores. They
either thought I was insane or had really low stamina but it wasn't like
I was going to end up chatting with them later.
Tio unlocked one of the doors and motioned for me to go in ahead of him.
I did, warily. Tio might be an old friend but that didn't mean I trusted
him more than I could throw him uphill while he was wrapped in a cement
The first thing that came into what was left of my mind as I stepped inside
He was nearly naked, which I'd expected, hell, I'd anticipated it, but
seeing him like that was like getting a sucker punch right in the stomach.
Or maybe more like the crotch because that's where all the blood in my
system suddenly decided it needed to be.
He was absolutely fucking beautiful.
Head bowed, with a surprisingly intricate gold-tinted collar buckled around
his neck, he was kneeling on a threadbare rug in the center of the room.
He had small gold hoops piercing both of his nipples and a chain dangled
between them. A third section of the chain disappeared beneath the waistband
of his very nearly transparent pants, and I'd bet good money that those
little trinkets were recent acquirements. Heero didn't seem to be the
type to get drunk and end up with a pierced ear much less the Prince Albert
that I suspected was beneath the tissue paper disguised as pants that
he was wearing.
Heero glanced up for a moment and I caught a glimpse of his eyes rimmed
heavily with black eyeliner and only the thinnest rim of blue visible
around the blackness of his pupils. I wondered with thin amusement what
they'd doped him with. Maybe a few ounces of Rapture, something to make
a new prostitute a little more willing for the paying clients. Anyway,
it was probably nothing too addictive. Hopefully.
I could taste the sweat beading on my upper lip and I licked it away before
Tio could see it. No use letting the bastard know he had more of an advantage
than he did, but, God, if he didn't know me too fucking well! A glance
at Tio showed me he was discreetly carrying a leash already, and with
one little flick of the wrist he'd have a sweet, fiery pet on a lead,
all ready for the taking. For a price.
Had I really thought I'd changed? That I'd scrubbed away the need along
with the dirt when I'd finally gotten enough sense of self- preservation
to get the hell out while I still could?
Heero looked at me again from beneath his lashes and his eyes didn't even
flicker with recognition. Whether that was from the drugs or from his
legendary superman impersonation, I had no idea, and I didn't really care.
We'd had something simmering between us for years, both of us juggling
lust and control between us, and after the whole thing with Hilde, he'd
finally just let me go. Was I disappointed? Beats the hell out of me,
but I know that he couldn't have stopped me from leaving anymore than
he could have allowed himself to come with me.
He'd let me go and I'd went without a backwards glance, and now here we
were again with another charade between us. At least our last little acting
job wouldn't have gotten us both killed.
But this time there was no hiding from it anymore, for either of us. In
a few minutes I was going to be fucking Heero Yuy, whether we wanted to
or not. Playing games with Tio was dangerous as hell, and if you wanted
to live through it with all your private parts intact then you played
by the rules.
Still, it'd be easier if I had a little blood left in my other head for
"Where did you pick this one up?" I asked, trying to sound careless and
sounding more like a horny Mickey Mouse. So much for scheming.
Tio waved a hand negligently. "Ah, nowhere special. Fresh and barely used."
Which meant he'd picked Heero up on the black market. Lucky little soldier
boy; if he'd been on the block he could have been sold anywhere in the
solar system. The fact that Tio got him was damn near the closest thing
to a miracle that this church boy has seen.
I made a show of studying him carefully before I made my offer, as if
I wouldn't have taken him if he were dressed in a pink tutu and ballet
slippers. "Twenty credits" I said, finally.
Tio made a strangled noise behind me. "Twenty credits for a specimen such
as this? Dear, I know you're an old friend, but…"
I interrupted him before he could go through the old 'Woe is me' spiel.
"Tio, cut the bullshit, I'm not a cherry picker. Your version of 'fresh'
and 'barely used' usually means someone whose only been fucked up the
ass a hundred times instead of a thousand."
"Still, twenty credits for him?" Tio protested, "Please, at least fifty!"
Before he left, Tio slapped the leash into my hand hard enough for it
to sting and I shivered again. Even having Heero on his knees in front
of me wasn't enough to help me forget but it sure as hell cut the trip
down memory lane short.
Heero hadn't taken his eyes off me, and I stepped forward, making a show
of attaching the leash while my eyes flicked over the room, searching,
searching…ah! There we are. For all the money Tio makes you'd think he'd
be able to afford better than a cheap surveillance system.
Tugging lightly on the leash, I forced Heero to raise his head and look
at me. Much to my annoyance nothing but pure, sweet calm greeted me. Did
he always have to be so damned controlled, even now? Or was he so doped
up he just didn't care? Reaching over, I tweaked one of his nipples, giving
the ring a nice tug and he shuddered, hard, all his precious control gone
with a single touch.
I couldn't help but smile, forcing myself to keep it small so he didn't
think I was too easily pleased. If Heero had been here more than an hour
he'd already had a certain amount of training, which would probably make
this easier. I wondered who else had touched him; just Tio himself, probably.
Heero was perfectly to his tastes, and instead of pissing me off I felt
even more like I was trapped in a sudden heat wave. Time to hurry this
show up before I came in my pants.
I pulled on the leash again, making Heero tilt his head so I bury my face
against the side of his neck. "They're watching," I murmured into his
ear, tracing the soft curve with the tip of my tongue. "If we don't make
this look good we're both going to lose our balls and I prefer mine right
where they are, thanks."
He nodded, minutely, and I felt a flash of irrational hatred for him.
Sure, he'll fuck me, for the mission, for our lives, but not just for
the plain, simple, sweaty, joy of pinning me down and screwing my brains
Hatred sort of vanished in between me sucking on his neck and the feeling
of his hands sliding up my thighs. He pushed me upright, warily like a
slave should, watching for any sign that this wasn't acceptable but at
that moment I wasn't much for being a hardnosed master. Something else
in my trousers had been hard for way too long now and I needed…I needed…
I needed those careful, strangely soft hands to unfasten the fly of my
pants and gently coax my erection into their waiting grasp. Not that it
needed much coaxing, it fairly leapt into Heero's face, and, you know,
I take back at least half the things I've said about Heero not being able
to take a hint and I would take back more if my brain hadn't short-circuited
at the feeling of Heero Yuy wrapping his mouth around my cock.
Hot, oh, my sweet God, his mouth was hot, and he sucked me inside that
heat so damned slowly, and I knew then, dimly, that it had been Tio who'd
been teaching him a few tricks. Then thought became just a bit too difficult
and I found my hands suddenly, conveniently, clenched in the hair on the
sides of his head.
I tightened my grip, holding him still and pushed myself hard into that
dark, wonderful heat. Heero didn't even whimper a protest, just took everything
I had to offer and sucked it deep inside, his soft tongue flicking little
patterns all over my cock, and Jesus, did Heero even have to be a better
hooker than I had been?
Not that I was complaining, it had been so very long since I'd felt anything
like this, hell, I'd never felt anything like this and I could hear myself
making some pretty damn loud noises as I fucked his mouth harder, almost
grimly. Trying to make him gag, trying not to let him beat me at this
and with a loud wail of protest I came, spilling myself into that heat
and then, finally, he choked, just a little, as he struggled to swallow
it all down.
I slumped back against the door, squirming uncomfortably as I struggled
to stay on my feet. Just for reference, leather clothes are not the most
comfortable things to be sweating in. After a few minutes of learning
how to breathe again, I managed to open my eyes and saw Heero Yuy still
kneeling in front of me, serenely.
Oh, now that wouldn't do at all. A slave should be pleased that he pleased
his master, but never, and I mean never, should he try to be better than
the master. Heero Yuy had a lesson to learn, and I was just the guy to
teach it to him. Without a single sound to mark it, I gave in, just like
that, to a the flood of Self that I'd been trying to make myself forget
about for the past four years, and every second I'd spent unlearning had
just been sucked into the drain of the sweetest mouth I'd ever had the
chance to feel wrapped around my dick.
After I fastening my pants, I leaned over and picked up the leash again,
careful not to let the tremble in my hands show as I slowly pulled it
tight, forcing Heero off-balance as he was caught between staying on his
knees and choking. A flash of uncertainty flickered through his eyes and
I smiled at him slowly.
"Take off your pants," I ordered softly, and Heero obeyed beautifully,
yes, he would obey but he wasn't tamed and I knew it. It was a little
difficult for him since I didn't ease up on the leash but Heero is a man
of many talents, some that he isn't even aware of, I'm sure.
He was even more beautiful naked, his cock heavy and hard between his
legs with the expected Prince Albert gleaming at the tip. Not as stoic
as he pretended, now was he? I eased down on the leash and reached forward
to unsnap it, holding it loosely in one hand as Heero looked up at me
"Turn around," I said, not even bothering to be sharp with him. He'd do
whatever I said without protest, mores the pity. "Hands and knees."
It was an order he understood, I could see that much, but the sight of
his backside was enough to make a guy like me salivate in anticipation.
Not a single mark on that pale little ass, nothing but smooth, white skin,
and maybe Tio hadn't lied to me as much as I thought. Heero couldn't have
been here that long if he hadn't already gotten the lesson I was about
to teach him.
He was expecting me to fuck him, wanted me to do it. I could see that
in the slight arch of his hips, the tiny wiggle of his backside as he
waited, but he was going to have to learn that a slave didn't always get
what they wanted.
There was a good reason all the leashes at Mona's were made out of leather,
and folding mine in half left me with a good, long, doubled strip to work
with. I pulled a pair of gloves out of my back pocket, an afterthought
that I barely allowed myself to consider, the same way I hadn't thought
about it when I'd tucked them into my pocket to begin with. Tugging them
on and the years were gone, and I was someone I hadn't been, hadn't wanted
to be, in a long time.
I ran a single, gloved finger down the curve of Heero's ass, watched him
squirm a little and I smirked, hefting the familiar light weight of the
leash in my hand for just a moment longer before I began.
Heero lurched forward on the first blow, going to his elbows, and I stopped
immediately, stepping forward and jerking him up by his hair.
"Don't do that again," I hissed in his ear, a thrill going through me
at his slight trembling. Was he actually afraid, I wondered, sliding my
other hand down his face as I said gently, "I promise I'll hurt you very
badly if you do. Do you understand me?"
He nodded jerkily and I let go of his hair. Heero collapsed back to his
hands and knees but not without bracing himself, I saw with approval,
and I began again.
Careful, measure strikes across Heero's backside, aimed to hurt not to
mark permanently and it seemed there were a few more lessons I'd neglected
to forget about all those years ago. The proper angle of the wrist, the
exact amount of force in each blow, the neat precision required so that
every inch of skin glowed brilliantly red, everything was as clear to
me as it ever was. And Heero never made a single fucking sound.
I hit him harder, hating him more with every stroke, hating him for being
so fucking perfect, for knowing that if it had been his mission Hilde
wouldn't be dead, I hated him, God, I hated him! For being who and what
he was, for everything I had ever been forced to do for him…for…for…
For letting me go.
I stopped suddenly, feeling my arm ache way more than it should for a
simple discipline beating and through the strange haze that seemed to
be choking me I saw Heero's shoulders were shaking rhythmically. The leash
fell from my nerveless fingers as I moved forward to kneel next to him,
tilting his chin up with one hand.
Tears were streaming down his reddened face, slipping down to drip off
his chin, and I suddenly realized why his collar had looked so intricate
to me. There was a voice inhibiter hidden within the base of it; Heero
couldn't have screamed if I'd been killing him. Worse, so much worse,
was the fact that I couldn't even regret what I had done, not with beautiful
sight of gem-bright tears sliding down those pretty red cheeks. Not with
the prettier red cheeks of his backside burning against my other hand
as I touched him without even realizing when I'd started.
I wiped at the tears with my thumb, and when that didn't help I leaned
forward to lick them away, tasting his eyeliner. "Beautiful," I murmured,
nearly choking on the words but obedience like this deserved a reward.
"You're very beautiful," I said again, softly. Heero raised his damp-lashed
eyes to mine and I could have cried myself at the soft hope shining there.
And the need, the heat, oh, God, the fucking need.
"All right," I said, hearing my voice shake and not really caring. "All
right," I repeated, senselessly, shifting to kneel behind him. Heero lurched
back against me as if he could push right through the leather of my pants
and have my cock inside him just that second. I let him though, ground
myself against him, rubbed my erection in the cleft of his ass and moaned
at the heat I could feel even through my pants.
Fumbling with the zipper, I jerked my pants down barely past my hips,
my fingers sliding down his backside to test his opening and I wasn't
surprised that he was already loosened and slick to my touch. Tio was
never a man to leave much to chance.
With hardly a pause to position myself, I pushed inside, hard, and Heero
threw his head back in a silent scream, shoving his hips backwards and
I slapped his flank, forcing him to stop.
Hot, so hot, hotter even than his sweet little mouth, hot and tight and
fuck, I wasn't going to last long but that was all right because he wasn't
going to last long and all I could do was hammer into that tightness,
groping awkwardly around Heero's hip to find the hard heat of his own
cock, felt the sudden squeeze of muscles around me as Heero came from
that single touch and then I was coming, helplessly, screaming, pouring
into the tight clench of Heero's body and tasting blood as bit my lip,
hating him for doing this to me again. Hating him for making me want this
so Goddamned much, hating myself for wanting this…hating myself for loving
It seemed a little surreal to see Heero curled up on the crumpled sheets
of my bed only a few hours later. I sat in a ragged chair in the corner,
watching him sleep and wondering what the hell I was going to do now.
Buying him hadn't been easy and that hadn't been much of a shocker. Tio
wasn't a guy who liked to give up a promising slave; I knew that much
from experience. But the proper amount of money followed by a very proper
blowjob will coax even the most adamant guy into selling. After all, every
man has a price, and Heero's had been steep but still doable.
I ran my tongue over my teeth lightly, repulsed and horny at the same
time. I'd brushed my teeth probably ten times since we'd gotten back here
and I swore I could still taste it. That was one little detail I was going
to leave out of my report to Une, anyway. Bet that would look good in
it: Agent offers money in exchange for item. Money is refused until Agent
throws in a good cocksucking with the deal. I'm sure Une would love that.
Heero shifted a little, sighing, and I wondered irritably how much longer
he was going to snooze away. I'd given him another dose of Rapture myself
before we'd left Mona's, enough to keep him subdued for a little while.
I hadn't been in much of a mood to go over the mission data right then
and no one on L-2 would even look twice at someone with a slave collar
He stirred again, blinking, and I watched him silently as he turned over
and took in his surroundings. I doubted he remembered much of the train
ride here, but with Heero Yuy, who knows? Finally, he saw me and stopped,
and we just stared at each other for a long minute, me not wanting to
speak and him not able.
What to do, what to do, isn't that the question of the day? My life had
taken a serious detour since I got Une's phone call, one that I hadn't
even dreamed about for a long time. Because I might be able to go back
in time and be someone I'd been before, but I can't pretend that I don't
know something when I do. Heero can't hide from me anymore.
Rapture is an interesting little drug, you know. Makes it easier for a
new prostitute, yeah, takes the edge off of your inhibitions but it doesn't
make you give head like an Olympic medallist and it doesn't make you wriggle
your ass in the air like a two-bit fucktoy. It doesn't make you need.
Heero doesn't know need. But I know someone who can teach him.
He gestured at the collar, impatience shining in those eyes that were
usually so dead of emotion, and that's one thing that Rapture can do,
strip away all the little concrete barriers that you've walled up around
yourself. No, he can't hide from me, yet.
"And what if I don't take it off?" I asked, very softly, speaking for
the first time since I'd gotten back here. "What if I just leave it there?
You know, this is legal on L-2." I had to laugh at the shock in his eyes.
Guess the superman doesn't know everything, after all.
"Why do you think no one offered to help us during our water crisis?"
I added helpfully. "Maybe they were hoping we'd all die. But you'll notice
they don't try to stop this either. They'll condemn prostitution to our
faces and then slide in the backdoor to taste the forbidden fruit themselves."
He was just staring at me, and maybe it was just the aftereffects of the
Rapture, but it didn't take a genius to see that Heero Yuy was sporting
a nice piece of wood all of a sudden.
"I could just phone Une up right now and tell her I never found you,"
I said softly, taunting him. "Maybe she'd send someone looking for you,
but, you know, maybe she wouldn't."
I stood up, walking around the bed behind him to whisper softly in his
ear, hardly more than a breath. "What if I liked seeing you on your knees?"
He swallowed hard, and I traced his spine with one finger, felt him shiver
beneath my touch.
And then I released the lock on his collar. Heero didn't move for what
was probably the longest minute of my life and then he was on his feet
in an instant, stumbling just a little and that had to be the Rapture.
Heero just wasn't a stumble sort of guy.
He didn't even look at me, instead going over to my closet to find himself
some real clothes, and wasn't he lucky that we were pretty close to the
"I have to report in to headquarters," he said finally, his voice a little
hoarse from not speaking for God knew how long and he still wouldn't look
at me, pulling a shirt over his head.
"Sure," I said easily. "The phone is in the living room."
He started to walk out, and maybe he really thought it would be that simple,
but it was still his fault that I had a few of my own memories dredged
up for me, and I wasn't about to let him off that easy.
"And I think you liked being there," I said, loudly, flopping back on
the bed. He stopped at the door, one of his hands tightening into a white-knuckled
fist and then he walked through without even a thank you. Typical.
I grinned, stretching and groaning loudly as my joints popped noisily.
It was a good thing I never accumulated much junk because L-2 wasn't going
to be a good place for me to stay for a while, not with Tio knowing I
was here. Maybe it was time for me to wander back to the Preventers, get
back into the swing of things. You can't mourn forever, you know, and
it looked like I might just have a new game to play with an old friend.
Whether he wanted to or not.
[back to Keelywolfe's fic]