by : Kracken
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).
and Blue Love
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
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
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
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
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, who's 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.
"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'm nervous at the revelation, even 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
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
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
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.
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