Koji Ma Oshi 21 [FINAL]
18 Jul 2007 04:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kaigouTitle: Koji ma Oshi 21/?
Author: Sol 1056
Rating: NC-17 for sex, violence, and dirty mouths
Warning: BDSM, psychological issues, post-post-EW, edge of dubcon
Pairings: 2x1, 3x5x3, 4xR
Disclaimer: No, don't own 'em... Hey! A sigh of relief from Bandai!
Archived:sweetlysour and gwaddiction ... only here.
Critiques: loved as much as chocolate
There are days in my life that I'd like to do over. Entire months, come to think of it. Contrary to what some journalists might speculate, plummeting to earth in a big honkin' mecha ain't one of them. That's, just maybe, one of the few things I'm truly proud of -- making sure those bastards' original plan didn't go quite as they'd wanted. And I sure wouldn't redo the twenty-four hours after getting Hilde's distress signal, when once and for all, I got to pilot circles around the Heero-based and Trowa-based piloting programs. I don't got a lot to prove, never saw the reason, but that one time, it felt like vindication.
That one time had to work overtime to make up for so many other times in my life. Like discovering that the antidotes imported by the oh-so-caring Alliance doctors and nurses weren't actually antidotes, but particularly virulent strains of the virus. I'd carried frustrated anger for years, after stealing the drugs and accessories -- the boxes of needles and plungers, the rows of little bottles labeled 'antibiotic' -- only to watch my entire gang die within twenty-four hours. All that effort for nothing, and it was G, years afterwards, who told me all I'd done was speed the process planned by the Alliance, of distributing those drugs free of charge to the indigent population. They'd apparently planned to up the speed, because a plague will burn itself out if it kills a host before it can be transmitted to the next host. I've never figured out whether I should feel guilty for murdering my own friends, or furious with people long out of my reach.
Or the time I was promised that if I just stole one last thing, one big thing, my new family would be safe -- and I did, and I did it damn well, too, considering I was maybe nine or ten... and those asshole rebels killed every single one of the orphans, the sisters, Father Maxwell. I did what they wanted, I played my role, and I got kicked in the teeth for it.
Or the time I was the last Gundam pilot through the door -- not counting Trowa, safely undercover -- and it was nothing but shit, shit, shit, on me, even though I was the only one who'd found the scientists, discovered their plans to rebuild our Gundams right under the nose of OZ.
Maybe the reason I said nothing but just took it, by then, was because it was just the way things would always go. Of course I must be incompetent. Of course I might blow the doors off the place and be the first one through the door, but of course I would never get the glory. Of course I would always be one of the ones taken down in flames, too. I was illiterate until the age of thirteen. I didn't have the foggiest about chemistry, physics, calculus, aeronautics, or ballistics, but I could take apart and put together just about any damn security system you threw at me. I just didn't know why, nor could I explain it. I went purely on instinct. Until I turned eighteen, I had two doctor's appointments and one dentist's appointment, in my entire life. Until the war, I'd never bought groceries or driven a civilian vehicle; until peacetime, I'd never paid rent, had a bank account, or opened a post office box. There was just no reason in the entire darkness of space that I should have succeeded at crap, let alone survived, so sometimes my momentary irritation would surprise me, to find anyone else equally surprised.
Oh, well, never said I was the brightest. Just the stubbornest.
Tangents aside -- though all this did flash through my brain as I warily took the seat Quatre waved to, even if I did take my time until Wufei turned with a clear threat in the shift of his weight -- the fact was, I knew the guys had gotten word. How was this any different from the lunar base, really? Other than Quatre and Heero trading places, otherwise it was the same set-up, seemed to me: I was the one who'd found the real dirt, I was the one who really made the progress, I was the one... and now, I was the one who was gonna get to eat crow, while they took advantage of my bruises and hard-won news.
Yeah, well, fuck them.
No one said anything for those long minutes, and I didn't give them any help. I settled into the metal chair, stretched out my legs until I had something of a comfortable angle for my tailbone, crossed my arms, and stared at the wall with all the blankness of any other man claiming the title Gundam Pilot. I'd spent twenty-something years with snappy comebacks, and I was finally, at long last, fresh out.
"Duo," Quatre said.
I ignored him. He'd read me my rights, they'd call for one of the maybe five honest Preventers remaining on the entire colony, and I'd be escorted away.
"We understand you believe you have reason to remain silent on this," he continued, quietly.
That was a bizarre way to read the right. Technically he was supposed to go word-for-word... unless they were going to drag this out by actually interrogating me. Fucking sadistic bastards. I was halfway surprised Heero wasn't there. He'd probably enjoy this part. Think of the photo-ops, Wufei, didn't you try to convince him to be here for when you give the statement? You've cleared out one of the biggest drug-smuggling and police-corruption rings in nearly four decades, there ain't no cap big enough to hold the feather Relena and the Parliament's going to be handing you.
"We just want to understand why you chose this path," Quatre finished.
This would be where I exercise my right to remain silent. Once upon a time, I gave Heero enough information to hurt me, but I'm not doing that again. And maybe it was just some kind of misplaced kindness on their part, like the guard, keeping Heero out. He was probably standing in some room next door, watching all this on closed-circuit, instead. Should I be thanking the guys for sparing me that last humliiation of keeping out someone who knew I consider diapers or piss-play a turn-off? Well, fuck them. I didn't let my expression change, I didn't move a muscle, I just kept my eyes sort of unfocused on that spot in mid-air between Quatre's left shoulder and the wall.
It seemed a long time, or right away, when Wufei turned away from me, looking towards the door. "Maybe we should have Yuy hit him again."
I did my best not to bristle. I wouldn't react. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Bastards.
Quatre didn't grace Wufei's comment with a reply, which startled me, once I thought about it. I mean, technically, Quatre was a businessman. He wasn't even a Preventer, he was just best friends with an Associate Director. Trowa, I could see being there on the basis of overseeing a major operation. But Quatre? And he'd also been the one speaking in the shuttle bay. He was just a businessman... right? He wasn't even supposed to know what Heero had been doing... But I'd forgotten how tenacious Quatre could be, even if his presence made no sense.
"If you'd just talk to us, Duo."
And what would that get me? Locked away faster, with my own words used against me? Fat fucking chance.
"We would've helped."
No, you would've taken it over, just like Heero and Wufei and Trowa did before. Each time, they'd nearly fucked it all up. Wufei heading off to L1. That ridiculous universal tour to visit every major undercover operative group, at Trowa's command. Heero and Wufei ready to charge in with guns blazing and no cares for the snitch in their ranks. Had to wonder if it was their help that nearly got me killed in the shuttle bay. Fuck that, it nearly did.
"Why won't you believe that?"
Because your actions have been so goddamn noisy I can't hear a fucking word you say.
"I'd like to say I know what you're thinking." Quatre's voice grew gentler, more pensive, if that was at all possible. He was almost whispering, and I might've thought he'd wanted to avoid being overheard -- if it weren't for the fact that I knew not only were all listening systems designed and installed by WEI, but that between Trowa, Wufei, and Heero, they probably had enough clearance to shut down every audio and video device on the entire L3 quadrant. Trowa alone could take out two rings, minimum. Maybe three on a good day. My thoughts rambled, but in the background, Quatre never shut up. "But I can't, though I hope I have some kind of insight into what you're feeling. You don't need to be, though."
Yes, because everyone was much happier when I laughed as I got kicked in the teeth. Made you feel a lot less guilty about it, didn't it.
"If you'd just--"
That was it. I'd given them ten minutes, and I didn't care if it'd been two or fifteen, I was bored. I stood up.
Halfway to the door, Quatre's words lashed out at me, sharp as Nataku's whip-crack. "Maxwell, you walk out of this room, you have only two options left."
Boy. Can't wait to hear what those might be. I put my hand on the door knob, but I didn't turn it. After a moment's hesitation, he seemed to get the message.
"You will be stripped of your rank, your clearance, and your right to bear arms under the L2 Settlement Agreement with the ESUN. You will be returned to L2, where the authorities there will deal with you as an ex-Preventer."
My fingers clenched on the doorknob, not about to turn it, no, but more to have something to hold onto. That was his idea of a threat? That they'd fire me from Preventers? An organization I joined solely to use its resources to help me crack the Crow-71 ring? So what if L2, like all colonies, had its own peculiar notions of acceptable career choices for men and women trained to take lives, shoot weapons, and be otherwise nasty in uniform. Being a scrap-man wasn't on the list of no-no's. Not saying I wanted it, but I knew Hilde's cousin would hire me back, if I asked. Big deal, and I could do that and not violate the L2 ex-Preventer rule about leaving the colony without written permission. Whatever.
"You will also lose the right to call any of us friends."
I wanted to laugh at that, really laugh. It just wasn't like Quatre to lob empty threats at someone, and if anyone knows you can't threaten the empty, it'd be Quatre. But on the other hand, I was rather curious to hear the alternate, if this was his idea of a bad thing. Unless he was saying it for someone's benefit. Who knew. I didn't.
"Or." His tone deepened in a way I'd heard only in battle. "You can meet with Heero."
Shit. Of all the people, I didn't want to be one more that Quatre -- wait a damned minute. Hold it right there.
What the fuck did he just say?
I blinked, but I'll admit, putting the words together with his tone, suddenly that first option wasn't looking so bad, after all. I studied the flecking paint along the door frame. Looked like it'd been beaten with a metal chair sometime in the past. The doorknob was warm, damp, and a little dented against my palm. There was no window in the door, no way to see what waited for me on the other side. And not even the hint of breathing from the three men behind me. Heero wasn't here... why? What could he have to say that I'd want to hear, and if I did hear what he had to say, what then?
Yeah, curiosity always was my downfall.
"Just meet with him," I said, enunciating carefully. "That's all."
"Right." Quatre didn't sound pleased. Cold, worried, threatening? I couldn't tell, really. With my back to him, I only had his tone of voice, and it wasn't telling me much other than tweaking something based on years of friendship, that told me I'd probably be better off with the first option. In fact -- once I stopped to chew over it -- it almost sounded like he didn't think I could just 'talk' to Heero. Like I wouldn't make it. Like I couldn't do it, like I'd just fuck it up, somehow.
Yeah, well, fuck you, I wanted to say, but instead I put that in different words. "Here? Now?"
"You have the choice to make yourself presentable, first," Quatre offered, still giving little away in his tone except for... a trace of boredom, almost.
I had the strangest sense I was being played, but maybe my brain was too foggy to figure it out. I turned it over, and I couldn't help but go with gut instinct. Either way, they weren't going to throw me back into the slammer with the general population, no matter what the local Preventers had been told. Either way, I walked out of there, whether I did it with dishonorable discharge from an organization I'd never liked much in the first place, or I did it with dishonorable discharge from a friendship that was already wrecked, judging from Heero's last missive. Nothing to lose, really, and I rather like having the right to carry a gun. Plus, I'm no fuckup. I might have been swallowing teeth since the day I was fucking born, but I always did the best I could with what I had, and I'll go down fighting to defend that truth.
"Fine." I took my hand off the door knob. "Gimme a shower and a change of clothes and something to eat that doesn't taste like cardboard and I'll meet with Treize fucking Kushrenada if you want."
I'm not sure, but I think I heard Trowa snort, very softly. Then the door opened, the Preventer stood there, and I was escorted out. I didn't look back.
- # - # - # -
Showered, shaved, and dressed in clean blue jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt, I wasn't going to complain if the shirt was a size too small. Whatever. I sat in that one-person room, staring at the walls, and tried to figure out the catch. Meet with Heero. Yeah, I wasn't looking forward to it, no joking there, but compared to the alternative -- and given that neither were all that horrendous, I mean, compared to what I'd been expecting -- I couldn't see how either amounted to a punishment. Or anything at all.
Meet with Heero.
I didn't even know how I felt about that. Was this supposed to be us, sitting in a room, so he could glare at me? When had he ever spoken freely about anything, except for when the lights were low and we'd just had dinner and he was feeling half-asleep and uncharacteristically vulnerable? He could yell at me, and what difference would that be? Not much change from all the times he griped at me during the war, when we were rooming together. Okay, so now he could do it while knowing my kinks when it came to sex, but he couldn't throw too much at me. I knew plenty about him in return. Maybe I should mention the devil's tail, if his remarks got too personal.
Then I thought about that night, and the night after, and the night after that... and I never wanted to bring that up. I couldn't. It'd be easier just to see it as a temporary madness, like befriending him in the midst of war, staying close if only because he was the only other teenager with the remotest idea of my true self, out of an entire school of privileged fucks. Just something that happened thanks to the days and months of finding and destroying Hilde's killers, and once that was done, so was everything that came with it. A package deal.
Maybe taking the first option might be the better route, after all. It was a glum thought.
Dinner came, and for once it was something halfway appetizing. The guard was especially solemn, and I had the striking thought that it was rather like giving a doomed man his one favorite dish. Indo-garian. Shrimp, even. I love shrimp. It tasted so much like the dish I'd shared with Heero... I almost couldn't choke it down. I'd not eaten more than a few bites in days, come to think of it, I should've been swallowing the dinner whole and the plate along with it, just for something non-bland. It tasted like ashes, though.
Meet with Heero.
I set down the fork, rubbed my eyes, and felt the energy draining from me. I guessed in a little bit they'd come for me, and it'd be back to the interrogation room. Least this time I wouldn't stink the place up, I was nicely shaved and hadn't even nicked myself, braid done just right and all picks stowed away in the crannies. Shirt tucked in, and no shoes or socks but the concrete was almost warm against my feet. Actually, it was quite warm. Almost comfortably so.
Before I knew it, I had shoved the tray to the side, elbows resting on the little table at the end of the cot. My braid felt heavy down my back, and I rubbed my eyes again. Meal was damn good. Too bad they didn't bring me more, maybe seconds, thirds. Stomach wasn't grumbling, and I had that pleasant post-meal euphoria. I put my head down on the table, so bored, a little anxious, how much longer until they showed up for the tray and walked me out of here? Really rather hot in that room, after all. I tried to get comfortable, though the lights didn't seem quite as bright, and the sudden scattershot clatter of plate and tray and fork hitting the floor just made me grumble, not jump. Didn't mean to hit that with my elbow.
Then my eyes closed one more time. I know I had the thought to pick up my head, keep my wits about me, but it was too late. Sleep seemed like just a good thing right then, and it'd just be for a minute... I drifted until the door opened; two Preventers entered. No handcuffs, no ankle cuffs, and I felt too sated and warm to do more than amble out, strolling along and trying to keep my feet from tripping over each other. I just couldn't seem to care. I'd be meeting with Heero, he'd yell a bunch, probably tell me I wasn't worth shit, and then we could call that useless attempt what it was, shit, and be done with it, and Quatre would still be my friend, and I could go back to ignoring Wufei and Trowa and know they'd probably be much happier for a return to the status quo, and life would be fine.
Yeah.
Peachy.
Outside it was colony night, and I thought for a moment over the lack of our stopping at the booking desk. Didn't they have stuff to give back to me? I couldn't recall. I don't think I had anything of value, anyway, and maybe Quatre had picked all that up already. Probably. Bet it was some car he'd rented, or Wufei. Driver didn't introduce himself, and the backseat was that gray comfry flannel-like kind of fabric. Heat was on high, and we seemed to drive forever. Lights outside the window just glazed over, after a bit, and I settled back. Might as well catch some more sleep-eye... save up my energy. Right. Save it up. Meet with Heero...
- # - # - # -
When I woke up, it was like the hospital room all over again. Except this time I really did have a mouthful of pillow, because I was lying on my stomach, braid lying across my face. Damn heavy, that. Only... no, I wasn't. I was balanced on my stomach, and that wasn't my braid... My knees rested on what felt like pillows, something soft and cushy along my knees and down my shins to my bare feet. And my legs were bare, and my ass was...
I was fucking naked?
I jerked upright, wanting to yell but able to do no more than make loud grunting-muffled sounds through the gag. My entire range of motion wasn't much more than an inch, abruptly halted at the pull of bindings around my wrists -- and my upper arms, and my upper thighs, and my ankles, what the fuck? I wriggled, trying to get more than an inch of motion in any direction. No, I didn't wriggle, I had too much dignity. I yanked with everything I had, more like, and nothing moved. The cuffs weren't too tight, I could tell, but they sure as fuck weren't loose, and there was no quick-release mechanism. I blinked, twisting my head to get a look at my arms, hanging straight down to the floor. Big black leather cuffs, well-padded and padlocked. Fucking padlocks! My ass was in the air, my dick hung down free, and I was laying lengthwise across one of those padded sawhorses. I was going to fucking slaughter someone, the instant I got free.
"Duo."
I froze at Heero's voice, and craned my neck, trying to get a line of sight. The voice had come from behind me. This wasn't meeting anyone, this was fucking -- this was -- I didn't know what it was, but I was gonna have some serious words with Quatre afterwards. The room was dark, and I squinted, trying to get my eyes to adjust, but either the light was too low, or the room too large. The light coming from behind me, maybe over me, didn't stretch very far. I made some more angry sounds, giving up on words but figuring the tone would communicate, and jerked a few more times at the bindings. There had to be a bar between my ankles, I couldn't seem to bring them together. Oh, someone was so fucking dead meat.
"I'm glad you agreed to meet."
Like fuck I did! Not what I had in mind!
Heero only chuckled, and then suddenly he was crouching in front of me. He wore those leather pants I remembered, his feet bare, his chest bare. The light caught his hair falling in his face, shading his eyes. With a quick movement he had the gag unsnapped, but he didn't remove it. I shook my head and he rode with the motion, keeping it in place. Only once I quieted, glaring death at him with everything I had -- then he pulled it away.
"Yuy," I spat, "you let me out of this right this instant, this is not--"
He wrapped the gag around my mouth again. "Perhaps it's best if you're civil," he said, calmly, as though it took no effort at all to hold a velvet-lined gag against my mouth despite the way I jerked and struggled against his hold. Fucking bastard. Always was too strong for his own good. "Then," he continued, still in that even, reasonable tone, "we can discuss the situation at hand."
It didn't help when his gaze slid past me, and I knew, I just knew, he was looking down my body. I was fucking naked, pinned to a fucking sawhorse on my hands and knees, and he wanted to what? Reasonable, like fuck, I was gonna show him reasonable. He waited, crouched before me, balanced on the balls of his feet. One knee down, one raised, and I could see the bulge between his legs. He was getting turned on by this -- a sudden thought occured to me. It wasn't one I wanted to entertain. Ever.
I thrashed, panicked. There was no way I was going to do any of this. I'd not agreed to this. He had to let me up, let me put something on, I didn't want him seeing me like this, I didn't want to be like this. I didn't want to have this happen. This wasn't meeting with someone, this was -- no, I wasn't going to, no, no, was all I could think, thoughts tumbling around and that one terrified word like a gunshot, over and over. Vaguely I realized the gag was in place again, snapped shut for all I'd been writhing and yanking at the shackles, and the head-prop was gone, pulled out from under me so now I could bend my head down and see under the sawhorse through to my legs and jerk my head to crane it up but I couldn't make a sound more than muffled yelling, and I wasn't begging, I just wanted to be free of this bullshit, this humiliating moment, I didn't want--
I didn't want--
I just--
A hand kept running up and down my back, in soothing circles. My muscles ached from the effort; I was panting hard through my nose. I thrashed a few more times, just to prove my point, but I needed to get my breath back, and that hand kept running warm fingers gently across my skin. It did feel kinda good... and the flash of anger came back, and I shuddered, trying to flex myself enough to get away from the hand. But it stayed with me, and I dropped my head. I just didn't... I just wanted to be let up. There wasn't any reason to do this. I'd not agreed to this... the anger washed through me again, leaving me exhausted. Not defeated, not yet, but maybe sheer force wouldn't get me out. If I could get him to take off the gag, I could talk my way out, that I could do, that'd always been my best bet...
But the hand kept moving, long sweeping circles, and my skin shivered despite myself. It was Heero doing that, I knew, and I cursed myself when my cock twitched, no, no. Just take a breath, calm down, and then he'd take off the gag. I could talk my way out, and I'd kill him later. Right. I dropped my head, eyesight going dark, and concentrated on getting more air, deep breaths through the nose, I could do this. My fingers relaxed from fists back to palms flat on the floor, and that damned hand never stopped, just kept moving in large circles.
Across my shoulderblades, down my spine, up one side, across my shoulders, down my spine... over and over, in the same pattern. My head swayed, braid sticking to my skin from the sweat on my neck. The end pooled on the carpet below me; I shook my head once to dislodge it, intensely aware of a developing itch on my neck. I flexed my muscles, annoyed that none of the shackles had budged even an iota, at the same time I rubbed my head against my shoulder, trying to relieve that itch. A second later a hand landed on my neck, rubbing, moving the braid, while the first hand continued its sweep. I wasn't sure whether to be glad of the relief, or twist my head to the side just to catch his fingers between jaw and shoulder. Just to make a point.
Before I could, though, the hand was gone, and it was back to that one smooth motion up and down my spine. I hung my head, waiting, trembling from anger, from exhaustion, from confusion. This was what they'd meant by meet with Heero, hunh? How long was I gonna have to put up with this?
"Good, Duo," Heero said, and his hand stopped, coming to rest at the base of my spine. Palm pressed into that one spot, fingers spread, unmoving. No pressure, just resting. "Breathe."
I jerked a few more times. I didn't need the asshole to tell me to breathe, I just needed him to stop this farce and let me out of these --
The hand had begun its motion again, and after a minute, I quieted. Not much else I could do. Had to remember, if I just let him say whatever he wanted, get the humiliation over with, then we'd be done and I could go back to my life. I just needed to hold onto that. I could go home when the meeting -- or this ridiculous shit passing for a meeting -- was over. Hold onto that. Right. I ended up with my head down again, panting calmed into something deeper, oddly in time with the soothing touch running down my spine, in, out, in, out, long slow stretches. I could do this, just play along...
The hand came to a stop again, same place as before. I braced myself, tension spiking in my muscles, but the hand didn't move. The fingers pressed in, a slight massage, but otherwise remained in place.
"I'm glad you chose this option," Heero said. His other hand landed on the back of my head, and I jerked in surprised, then stilled when he did nothing more than smooth down my hair. It felt kinda good, actually, after all so long of not having him near me, not feeling him against me. If it was going to be the last time he'd touch me, as long as this was the most he did, okay, I could handle that. I'd say goodbye, and walk away free. I could do this.
Then his left hand moved farther down my body, to cup my ass. The tips of his fingers ran down the crease between my cheeks, just brushing the sensitive skin, and I jerked in place, trying like mad to get my body away from his fingers, shake his hand free. His hand slid back up to the small of my back, and I yanked at the bindings a few more times, cursing the motion when I realized that every time I tried to dislodge him, it rubbed my half-hard cock against the sawhorse end -- but not entirely. Just brushed it, more like, barely a touch and enough to feel good and piss me off. And I didn't want either.
Again, when I finally stopped moving, the hand moved, and again I cursed him in muffled grunts and tossed my head and tried to shake him off. Again, and again. I was panting hard by the fifth time, and still that was all he'd done. He was going to drive me insane, I swear. How long were we supposed to play this game? He could let me up now, he'd made his point, whatever that was, and I had at itch at the back of my thigh and my nose itched -- though that I could handle by rubbing my face against my shoulder even if it didn't budge the gag one bit -- and okay, done now. Really!
"Relax," Heero coaxed.
I thrashed once or twice just to make a point.
"Shh," he said, and this time, his hand didn't move away from my ass, fingertips moving just a little, brushing along the inside curve. "We have plenty of time. I've no intention of rushing this. We'll be here as long as this takes."
As long as what takes? What the fuck? Rushing what? I craned my neck, trying to see over my shoulder, but I couldn't turn far and I only had a glimpse of Heero's bare chest. The light seemed to be suspended lower, leaving his face in darkness. I shook my head madly, tried to holler through the gag but it wasn't words anymore. I had no idea what I'd say. His hands wouldn't move away, and I just... I didn't want him to do that. Don't touch me, I wanted to say. I shook, and the shaking became a shudder as I sank down, letting my weight rest on the sawhorse again. Just talk, Heero, get it over with. His hands did leave me then, and I braced myself, only to find him kneeling before me one more time.
Swiftly he undid the gag and pulled it away, and this time he didn't keep it in front of me, but dropped it to the floor. I stared at it, then at him, wary. My throat was parched, my lips dry. I licked them, coughed, and wanted to glare at him but didn't know what to say. I needed a hint before I could figure out how best to talk my way free.
He said nothing, just ran fingers down my cheek, across my lips. I wanted to pull my head away, but it felt good, and I needed him to say something. He wouldn't if I pissed him off, so I just looked at him. He seemed... tired, maybe, but I'd seen him worse. Worn, or just older. Maybe a little sad. It didn't look right on him. My chest ached, but I ignored it. He dropped his hand, then, resting his elbows on his knees, arms out, hands loose at the wrists. A relaxed posture I'd rarely seen on him. Maybe ever, outside a few times in my apartment or his... I wouldn't think of that. I needed to stay focused on the now. What the fuck did he want?
"When we're done," he said, and raised his hands to hold my face, gently, no threat with his strength, but delicate lightness that confused me, really. "You can walk out of here, and whatever you decide, I'll accept."
I frowned, and unwillingly found my voice. "Done?"
"In twenty-four hours," he said, and was that-- the fucker, that was a flicker at the corner of his mouth, he was amused -- but before I could get out something to yell, he'd moved forward, pressing his mouth against mine, taking full advantage to stab his tongue deep, twisting.
Oh, fucking space, how I'd missed the taste of him. I angled my head, I tried best I could, I brought my tongue to his, wanted to suck him dry and the sudden pull of a band around my upper arms reminded me, even as my cock grew hard, head tapping up against the underside of the sawhorse. That was enough to bring me down, and I bit down on his tongue then jerked my head away, lips shut fast.
Heero pulled back, eyebrows raised. His lips were pressed in a firm line, but his tone held no rancor as he told me, "I see you're going to be difficult."
"You want difficult, I'll show you fucking difficult, Yuy," I snapped. "This isn't funny. Let me up, goddamnit, undo me--"
"No." He stood up, walked off into the darkness.
"Yuy!" I hollered, listening for echoes. Either the room wasn't as large as I thought, or baffled with drapes and carpet. I twisted my head around, trying to see him, wherever he was. "Heero!" I couldn't hear anything. Nothing more than my harsh breathing. Where had he gone, did he just leave me here, he better not have left me here -- and I couldn't hide the panic, I didn't try to hide it, not then. I couldn't help it. "Come back here! Don't you fucking dare--" I broke off, barely able to force the words to make sense, other than an inarticulate cry. "Don't-- don't leave me," I said. Nothing. "Please," I added, jerking against the bonds. "Don't. Don't leave me."
His hand landed on my back, a solid weight but not a slap, just bearing down a little right between my shoulderblades. For a second I flinched, confused how he'd done that, had he been right there the entire time? But just as fast, I relaxed, strangely glad he'd not just walked away and left me there. I couldn't take that, not tied down and held open and not after a kiss like that, I just... I wanted him to undo me. I didn't want to be there, but if I had to be there, I didn't want to be alone. I whispered to myself, trying to gather my strength, I could handle this, just not alone, and the fingers began moving again, until I finally sighed and settled my weight onto the padded surface again.
"I'm not leaving," he said. "I don't plan to leave. You left me."
"I didn't have a choice," I bit out. "I had to--"
A quick whistling sound warned me, but not enough time before a sudden crack across my ass, a thin line of pain. I jumped, yelping inarticulately.
"Don't," I told him, "stop that, that's not, I didn't say this was okay, you can't--"
Another sound of slicing air, and a second line of pain formed across my ass, this time in the tender skin where thigh meets ass. I jerked forward, slamming my hips against the sawhorse end. It banged my cock against the underside and I groaned, a shiver running through me as I tried to steady myself. Not doing that again. Shit.
"You always have a choice," Heero said.
"Not really giving me much of one now, are you?" I twisted my head to see him, but he was too quick. Past my line of sight, or directly behind me, and I didn't want to think about that. "Not sure what kind of a lesson you think this is gonna teach me, but I'm not going to learn it if you keep--"
Another minute warning and the sharp line cut at an angle across my ass, up to just a bit of the small of my back. No wrap-around, and a fine cutting pain. The cane, I guessed, and I craned my neck in the opposite direction, where the strike had to have come from, but he was gone, or maybe the hint of movement was his bare hip above the jet-black of his pants. I couldn't tell. My eyes crossed from the effort, and I turned to look forward again. I'd only give myself a headache trying to turn my head all the way around on my neck. Damn it.
"Stop that," I ordered. "This isn't--"
Another strike.
"Goddamnit, Heero, that fucking hurts!"
"Not yet, it doesn't."
"What? What the fuck is that supposed to mean, undo me! Why the fuck are you doing this to me?"
This time, there was no warning, because it was his hand that landed on my ass, open-palmed, straight down on the bolts from the cane. I yelled, the sensation too much, and thrashed, but half-heartedly. I couldn't get away. The only thing I'd managed to do in all my movement was prove that to myself, but it was just the principle of the thing. I was tired in soul, if not in body, and I just... it didn't make any sense. I'd had my reasons, and if anyone might respect that, wouldn't Heero?
"When you understand," Heero said, and this time, his hand landed softer, on the underside of my ass to run fingers down my thigh and back up again. "Then we'll be done."
"I don't get it," I told him, panting choking my words into something too much like a sob. I breathed through my nose, forced myself to calm. "I don't understand."
"We're not done yet," he replied.
The cane whistled a fifth time.
Author: Sol 1056
Rating: NC-17 for sex, violence, and dirty mouths
Warning: BDSM, psychological issues, post-post-EW, edge of dubcon
Pairings: 2x1, 3x5x3, 4xR
Disclaimer: No, don't own 'em... Hey! A sigh of relief from Bandai!
Archived:
Critiques: loved as much as chocolate
There are days in my life that I'd like to do over. Entire months, come to think of it. Contrary to what some journalists might speculate, plummeting to earth in a big honkin' mecha ain't one of them. That's, just maybe, one of the few things I'm truly proud of -- making sure those bastards' original plan didn't go quite as they'd wanted. And I sure wouldn't redo the twenty-four hours after getting Hilde's distress signal, when once and for all, I got to pilot circles around the Heero-based and Trowa-based piloting programs. I don't got a lot to prove, never saw the reason, but that one time, it felt like vindication.
That one time had to work overtime to make up for so many other times in my life. Like discovering that the antidotes imported by the oh-so-caring Alliance doctors and nurses weren't actually antidotes, but particularly virulent strains of the virus. I'd carried frustrated anger for years, after stealing the drugs and accessories -- the boxes of needles and plungers, the rows of little bottles labeled 'antibiotic' -- only to watch my entire gang die within twenty-four hours. All that effort for nothing, and it was G, years afterwards, who told me all I'd done was speed the process planned by the Alliance, of distributing those drugs free of charge to the indigent population. They'd apparently planned to up the speed, because a plague will burn itself out if it kills a host before it can be transmitted to the next host. I've never figured out whether I should feel guilty for murdering my own friends, or furious with people long out of my reach.
Or the time I was promised that if I just stole one last thing, one big thing, my new family would be safe -- and I did, and I did it damn well, too, considering I was maybe nine or ten... and those asshole rebels killed every single one of the orphans, the sisters, Father Maxwell. I did what they wanted, I played my role, and I got kicked in the teeth for it.
Or the time I was the last Gundam pilot through the door -- not counting Trowa, safely undercover -- and it was nothing but shit, shit, shit, on me, even though I was the only one who'd found the scientists, discovered their plans to rebuild our Gundams right under the nose of OZ.
Maybe the reason I said nothing but just took it, by then, was because it was just the way things would always go. Of course I must be incompetent. Of course I might blow the doors off the place and be the first one through the door, but of course I would never get the glory. Of course I would always be one of the ones taken down in flames, too. I was illiterate until the age of thirteen. I didn't have the foggiest about chemistry, physics, calculus, aeronautics, or ballistics, but I could take apart and put together just about any damn security system you threw at me. I just didn't know why, nor could I explain it. I went purely on instinct. Until I turned eighteen, I had two doctor's appointments and one dentist's appointment, in my entire life. Until the war, I'd never bought groceries or driven a civilian vehicle; until peacetime, I'd never paid rent, had a bank account, or opened a post office box. There was just no reason in the entire darkness of space that I should have succeeded at crap, let alone survived, so sometimes my momentary irritation would surprise me, to find anyone else equally surprised.
Oh, well, never said I was the brightest. Just the stubbornest.
Tangents aside -- though all this did flash through my brain as I warily took the seat Quatre waved to, even if I did take my time until Wufei turned with a clear threat in the shift of his weight -- the fact was, I knew the guys had gotten word. How was this any different from the lunar base, really? Other than Quatre and Heero trading places, otherwise it was the same set-up, seemed to me: I was the one who'd found the real dirt, I was the one who really made the progress, I was the one... and now, I was the one who was gonna get to eat crow, while they took advantage of my bruises and hard-won news.
Yeah, well, fuck them.
No one said anything for those long minutes, and I didn't give them any help. I settled into the metal chair, stretched out my legs until I had something of a comfortable angle for my tailbone, crossed my arms, and stared at the wall with all the blankness of any other man claiming the title Gundam Pilot. I'd spent twenty-something years with snappy comebacks, and I was finally, at long last, fresh out.
"Duo," Quatre said.
I ignored him. He'd read me my rights, they'd call for one of the maybe five honest Preventers remaining on the entire colony, and I'd be escorted away.
"We understand you believe you have reason to remain silent on this," he continued, quietly.
That was a bizarre way to read the right. Technically he was supposed to go word-for-word... unless they were going to drag this out by actually interrogating me. Fucking sadistic bastards. I was halfway surprised Heero wasn't there. He'd probably enjoy this part. Think of the photo-ops, Wufei, didn't you try to convince him to be here for when you give the statement? You've cleared out one of the biggest drug-smuggling and police-corruption rings in nearly four decades, there ain't no cap big enough to hold the feather Relena and the Parliament's going to be handing you.
"We just want to understand why you chose this path," Quatre finished.
This would be where I exercise my right to remain silent. Once upon a time, I gave Heero enough information to hurt me, but I'm not doing that again. And maybe it was just some kind of misplaced kindness on their part, like the guard, keeping Heero out. He was probably standing in some room next door, watching all this on closed-circuit, instead. Should I be thanking the guys for sparing me that last humliiation of keeping out someone who knew I consider diapers or piss-play a turn-off? Well, fuck them. I didn't let my expression change, I didn't move a muscle, I just kept my eyes sort of unfocused on that spot in mid-air between Quatre's left shoulder and the wall.
It seemed a long time, or right away, when Wufei turned away from me, looking towards the door. "Maybe we should have Yuy hit him again."
I did my best not to bristle. I wouldn't react. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Bastards.
Quatre didn't grace Wufei's comment with a reply, which startled me, once I thought about it. I mean, technically, Quatre was a businessman. He wasn't even a Preventer, he was just best friends with an Associate Director. Trowa, I could see being there on the basis of overseeing a major operation. But Quatre? And he'd also been the one speaking in the shuttle bay. He was just a businessman... right? He wasn't even supposed to know what Heero had been doing... But I'd forgotten how tenacious Quatre could be, even if his presence made no sense.
"If you'd just talk to us, Duo."
And what would that get me? Locked away faster, with my own words used against me? Fat fucking chance.
"We would've helped."
No, you would've taken it over, just like Heero and Wufei and Trowa did before. Each time, they'd nearly fucked it all up. Wufei heading off to L1. That ridiculous universal tour to visit every major undercover operative group, at Trowa's command. Heero and Wufei ready to charge in with guns blazing and no cares for the snitch in their ranks. Had to wonder if it was their help that nearly got me killed in the shuttle bay. Fuck that, it nearly did.
"Why won't you believe that?"
Because your actions have been so goddamn noisy I can't hear a fucking word you say.
"I'd like to say I know what you're thinking." Quatre's voice grew gentler, more pensive, if that was at all possible. He was almost whispering, and I might've thought he'd wanted to avoid being overheard -- if it weren't for the fact that I knew not only were all listening systems designed and installed by WEI, but that between Trowa, Wufei, and Heero, they probably had enough clearance to shut down every audio and video device on the entire L3 quadrant. Trowa alone could take out two rings, minimum. Maybe three on a good day. My thoughts rambled, but in the background, Quatre never shut up. "But I can't, though I hope I have some kind of insight into what you're feeling. You don't need to be, though."
Yes, because everyone was much happier when I laughed as I got kicked in the teeth. Made you feel a lot less guilty about it, didn't it.
"If you'd just--"
That was it. I'd given them ten minutes, and I didn't care if it'd been two or fifteen, I was bored. I stood up.
Halfway to the door, Quatre's words lashed out at me, sharp as Nataku's whip-crack. "Maxwell, you walk out of this room, you have only two options left."
Boy. Can't wait to hear what those might be. I put my hand on the door knob, but I didn't turn it. After a moment's hesitation, he seemed to get the message.
"You will be stripped of your rank, your clearance, and your right to bear arms under the L2 Settlement Agreement with the ESUN. You will be returned to L2, where the authorities there will deal with you as an ex-Preventer."
My fingers clenched on the doorknob, not about to turn it, no, but more to have something to hold onto. That was his idea of a threat? That they'd fire me from Preventers? An organization I joined solely to use its resources to help me crack the Crow-71 ring? So what if L2, like all colonies, had its own peculiar notions of acceptable career choices for men and women trained to take lives, shoot weapons, and be otherwise nasty in uniform. Being a scrap-man wasn't on the list of no-no's. Not saying I wanted it, but I knew Hilde's cousin would hire me back, if I asked. Big deal, and I could do that and not violate the L2 ex-Preventer rule about leaving the colony without written permission. Whatever.
"You will also lose the right to call any of us friends."
I wanted to laugh at that, really laugh. It just wasn't like Quatre to lob empty threats at someone, and if anyone knows you can't threaten the empty, it'd be Quatre. But on the other hand, I was rather curious to hear the alternate, if this was his idea of a bad thing. Unless he was saying it for someone's benefit. Who knew. I didn't.
"Or." His tone deepened in a way I'd heard only in battle. "You can meet with Heero."
Shit. Of all the people, I didn't want to be one more that Quatre -- wait a damned minute. Hold it right there.
What the fuck did he just say?
I blinked, but I'll admit, putting the words together with his tone, suddenly that first option wasn't looking so bad, after all. I studied the flecking paint along the door frame. Looked like it'd been beaten with a metal chair sometime in the past. The doorknob was warm, damp, and a little dented against my palm. There was no window in the door, no way to see what waited for me on the other side. And not even the hint of breathing from the three men behind me. Heero wasn't here... why? What could he have to say that I'd want to hear, and if I did hear what he had to say, what then?
Yeah, curiosity always was my downfall.
"Just meet with him," I said, enunciating carefully. "That's all."
"Right." Quatre didn't sound pleased. Cold, worried, threatening? I couldn't tell, really. With my back to him, I only had his tone of voice, and it wasn't telling me much other than tweaking something based on years of friendship, that told me I'd probably be better off with the first option. In fact -- once I stopped to chew over it -- it almost sounded like he didn't think I could just 'talk' to Heero. Like I wouldn't make it. Like I couldn't do it, like I'd just fuck it up, somehow.
Yeah, well, fuck you, I wanted to say, but instead I put that in different words. "Here? Now?"
"You have the choice to make yourself presentable, first," Quatre offered, still giving little away in his tone except for... a trace of boredom, almost.
I had the strangest sense I was being played, but maybe my brain was too foggy to figure it out. I turned it over, and I couldn't help but go with gut instinct. Either way, they weren't going to throw me back into the slammer with the general population, no matter what the local Preventers had been told. Either way, I walked out of there, whether I did it with dishonorable discharge from an organization I'd never liked much in the first place, or I did it with dishonorable discharge from a friendship that was already wrecked, judging from Heero's last missive. Nothing to lose, really, and I rather like having the right to carry a gun. Plus, I'm no fuckup. I might have been swallowing teeth since the day I was fucking born, but I always did the best I could with what I had, and I'll go down fighting to defend that truth.
"Fine." I took my hand off the door knob. "Gimme a shower and a change of clothes and something to eat that doesn't taste like cardboard and I'll meet with Treize fucking Kushrenada if you want."
I'm not sure, but I think I heard Trowa snort, very softly. Then the door opened, the Preventer stood there, and I was escorted out. I didn't look back.
Showered, shaved, and dressed in clean blue jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt, I wasn't going to complain if the shirt was a size too small. Whatever. I sat in that one-person room, staring at the walls, and tried to figure out the catch. Meet with Heero. Yeah, I wasn't looking forward to it, no joking there, but compared to the alternative -- and given that neither were all that horrendous, I mean, compared to what I'd been expecting -- I couldn't see how either amounted to a punishment. Or anything at all.
Meet with Heero.
I didn't even know how I felt about that. Was this supposed to be us, sitting in a room, so he could glare at me? When had he ever spoken freely about anything, except for when the lights were low and we'd just had dinner and he was feeling half-asleep and uncharacteristically vulnerable? He could yell at me, and what difference would that be? Not much change from all the times he griped at me during the war, when we were rooming together. Okay, so now he could do it while knowing my kinks when it came to sex, but he couldn't throw too much at me. I knew plenty about him in return. Maybe I should mention the devil's tail, if his remarks got too personal.
Then I thought about that night, and the night after, and the night after that... and I never wanted to bring that up. I couldn't. It'd be easier just to see it as a temporary madness, like befriending him in the midst of war, staying close if only because he was the only other teenager with the remotest idea of my true self, out of an entire school of privileged fucks. Just something that happened thanks to the days and months of finding and destroying Hilde's killers, and once that was done, so was everything that came with it. A package deal.
Maybe taking the first option might be the better route, after all. It was a glum thought.
Dinner came, and for once it was something halfway appetizing. The guard was especially solemn, and I had the striking thought that it was rather like giving a doomed man his one favorite dish. Indo-garian. Shrimp, even. I love shrimp. It tasted so much like the dish I'd shared with Heero... I almost couldn't choke it down. I'd not eaten more than a few bites in days, come to think of it, I should've been swallowing the dinner whole and the plate along with it, just for something non-bland. It tasted like ashes, though.
Meet with Heero.
I set down the fork, rubbed my eyes, and felt the energy draining from me. I guessed in a little bit they'd come for me, and it'd be back to the interrogation room. Least this time I wouldn't stink the place up, I was nicely shaved and hadn't even nicked myself, braid done just right and all picks stowed away in the crannies. Shirt tucked in, and no shoes or socks but the concrete was almost warm against my feet. Actually, it was quite warm. Almost comfortably so.
Before I knew it, I had shoved the tray to the side, elbows resting on the little table at the end of the cot. My braid felt heavy down my back, and I rubbed my eyes again. Meal was damn good. Too bad they didn't bring me more, maybe seconds, thirds. Stomach wasn't grumbling, and I had that pleasant post-meal euphoria. I put my head down on the table, so bored, a little anxious, how much longer until they showed up for the tray and walked me out of here? Really rather hot in that room, after all. I tried to get comfortable, though the lights didn't seem quite as bright, and the sudden scattershot clatter of plate and tray and fork hitting the floor just made me grumble, not jump. Didn't mean to hit that with my elbow.
Then my eyes closed one more time. I know I had the thought to pick up my head, keep my wits about me, but it was too late. Sleep seemed like just a good thing right then, and it'd just be for a minute... I drifted until the door opened; two Preventers entered. No handcuffs, no ankle cuffs, and I felt too sated and warm to do more than amble out, strolling along and trying to keep my feet from tripping over each other. I just couldn't seem to care. I'd be meeting with Heero, he'd yell a bunch, probably tell me I wasn't worth shit, and then we could call that useless attempt what it was, shit, and be done with it, and Quatre would still be my friend, and I could go back to ignoring Wufei and Trowa and know they'd probably be much happier for a return to the status quo, and life would be fine.
Yeah.
Peachy.
Outside it was colony night, and I thought for a moment over the lack of our stopping at the booking desk. Didn't they have stuff to give back to me? I couldn't recall. I don't think I had anything of value, anyway, and maybe Quatre had picked all that up already. Probably. Bet it was some car he'd rented, or Wufei. Driver didn't introduce himself, and the backseat was that gray comfry flannel-like kind of fabric. Heat was on high, and we seemed to drive forever. Lights outside the window just glazed over, after a bit, and I settled back. Might as well catch some more sleep-eye... save up my energy. Right. Save it up. Meet with Heero...
When I woke up, it was like the hospital room all over again. Except this time I really did have a mouthful of pillow, because I was lying on my stomach, braid lying across my face. Damn heavy, that. Only... no, I wasn't. I was balanced on my stomach, and that wasn't my braid... My knees rested on what felt like pillows, something soft and cushy along my knees and down my shins to my bare feet. And my legs were bare, and my ass was...
I was fucking naked?
I jerked upright, wanting to yell but able to do no more than make loud grunting-muffled sounds through the gag. My entire range of motion wasn't much more than an inch, abruptly halted at the pull of bindings around my wrists -- and my upper arms, and my upper thighs, and my ankles, what the fuck? I wriggled, trying to get more than an inch of motion in any direction. No, I didn't wriggle, I had too much dignity. I yanked with everything I had, more like, and nothing moved. The cuffs weren't too tight, I could tell, but they sure as fuck weren't loose, and there was no quick-release mechanism. I blinked, twisting my head to get a look at my arms, hanging straight down to the floor. Big black leather cuffs, well-padded and padlocked. Fucking padlocks! My ass was in the air, my dick hung down free, and I was laying lengthwise across one of those padded sawhorses. I was going to fucking slaughter someone, the instant I got free.
"Duo."
I froze at Heero's voice, and craned my neck, trying to get a line of sight. The voice had come from behind me. This wasn't meeting anyone, this was fucking -- this was -- I didn't know what it was, but I was gonna have some serious words with Quatre afterwards. The room was dark, and I squinted, trying to get my eyes to adjust, but either the light was too low, or the room too large. The light coming from behind me, maybe over me, didn't stretch very far. I made some more angry sounds, giving up on words but figuring the tone would communicate, and jerked a few more times at the bindings. There had to be a bar between my ankles, I couldn't seem to bring them together. Oh, someone was so fucking dead meat.
"I'm glad you agreed to meet."
Like fuck I did! Not what I had in mind!
Heero only chuckled, and then suddenly he was crouching in front of me. He wore those leather pants I remembered, his feet bare, his chest bare. The light caught his hair falling in his face, shading his eyes. With a quick movement he had the gag unsnapped, but he didn't remove it. I shook my head and he rode with the motion, keeping it in place. Only once I quieted, glaring death at him with everything I had -- then he pulled it away.
"Yuy," I spat, "you let me out of this right this instant, this is not--"
He wrapped the gag around my mouth again. "Perhaps it's best if you're civil," he said, calmly, as though it took no effort at all to hold a velvet-lined gag against my mouth despite the way I jerked and struggled against his hold. Fucking bastard. Always was too strong for his own good. "Then," he continued, still in that even, reasonable tone, "we can discuss the situation at hand."
It didn't help when his gaze slid past me, and I knew, I just knew, he was looking down my body. I was fucking naked, pinned to a fucking sawhorse on my hands and knees, and he wanted to what? Reasonable, like fuck, I was gonna show him reasonable. He waited, crouched before me, balanced on the balls of his feet. One knee down, one raised, and I could see the bulge between his legs. He was getting turned on by this -- a sudden thought occured to me. It wasn't one I wanted to entertain. Ever.
I thrashed, panicked. There was no way I was going to do any of this. I'd not agreed to this. He had to let me up, let me put something on, I didn't want him seeing me like this, I didn't want to be like this. I didn't want to have this happen. This wasn't meeting with someone, this was -- no, I wasn't going to, no, no, was all I could think, thoughts tumbling around and that one terrified word like a gunshot, over and over. Vaguely I realized the gag was in place again, snapped shut for all I'd been writhing and yanking at the shackles, and the head-prop was gone, pulled out from under me so now I could bend my head down and see under the sawhorse through to my legs and jerk my head to crane it up but I couldn't make a sound more than muffled yelling, and I wasn't begging, I just wanted to be free of this bullshit, this humiliating moment, I didn't want--
I didn't want--
I just--
A hand kept running up and down my back, in soothing circles. My muscles ached from the effort; I was panting hard through my nose. I thrashed a few more times, just to prove my point, but I needed to get my breath back, and that hand kept running warm fingers gently across my skin. It did feel kinda good... and the flash of anger came back, and I shuddered, trying to flex myself enough to get away from the hand. But it stayed with me, and I dropped my head. I just didn't... I just wanted to be let up. There wasn't any reason to do this. I'd not agreed to this... the anger washed through me again, leaving me exhausted. Not defeated, not yet, but maybe sheer force wouldn't get me out. If I could get him to take off the gag, I could talk my way out, that I could do, that'd always been my best bet...
But the hand kept moving, long sweeping circles, and my skin shivered despite myself. It was Heero doing that, I knew, and I cursed myself when my cock twitched, no, no. Just take a breath, calm down, and then he'd take off the gag. I could talk my way out, and I'd kill him later. Right. I dropped my head, eyesight going dark, and concentrated on getting more air, deep breaths through the nose, I could do this. My fingers relaxed from fists back to palms flat on the floor, and that damned hand never stopped, just kept moving in large circles.
Across my shoulderblades, down my spine, up one side, across my shoulders, down my spine... over and over, in the same pattern. My head swayed, braid sticking to my skin from the sweat on my neck. The end pooled on the carpet below me; I shook my head once to dislodge it, intensely aware of a developing itch on my neck. I flexed my muscles, annoyed that none of the shackles had budged even an iota, at the same time I rubbed my head against my shoulder, trying to relieve that itch. A second later a hand landed on my neck, rubbing, moving the braid, while the first hand continued its sweep. I wasn't sure whether to be glad of the relief, or twist my head to the side just to catch his fingers between jaw and shoulder. Just to make a point.
Before I could, though, the hand was gone, and it was back to that one smooth motion up and down my spine. I hung my head, waiting, trembling from anger, from exhaustion, from confusion. This was what they'd meant by meet with Heero, hunh? How long was I gonna have to put up with this?
"Good, Duo," Heero said, and his hand stopped, coming to rest at the base of my spine. Palm pressed into that one spot, fingers spread, unmoving. No pressure, just resting. "Breathe."
I jerked a few more times. I didn't need the asshole to tell me to breathe, I just needed him to stop this farce and let me out of these --
The hand had begun its motion again, and after a minute, I quieted. Not much else I could do. Had to remember, if I just let him say whatever he wanted, get the humiliation over with, then we'd be done and I could go back to my life. I just needed to hold onto that. I could go home when the meeting -- or this ridiculous shit passing for a meeting -- was over. Hold onto that. Right. I ended up with my head down again, panting calmed into something deeper, oddly in time with the soothing touch running down my spine, in, out, in, out, long slow stretches. I could do this, just play along...
The hand came to a stop again, same place as before. I braced myself, tension spiking in my muscles, but the hand didn't move. The fingers pressed in, a slight massage, but otherwise remained in place.
"I'm glad you chose this option," Heero said. His other hand landed on the back of my head, and I jerked in surprised, then stilled when he did nothing more than smooth down my hair. It felt kinda good, actually, after all so long of not having him near me, not feeling him against me. If it was going to be the last time he'd touch me, as long as this was the most he did, okay, I could handle that. I'd say goodbye, and walk away free. I could do this.
Then his left hand moved farther down my body, to cup my ass. The tips of his fingers ran down the crease between my cheeks, just brushing the sensitive skin, and I jerked in place, trying like mad to get my body away from his fingers, shake his hand free. His hand slid back up to the small of my back, and I yanked at the bindings a few more times, cursing the motion when I realized that every time I tried to dislodge him, it rubbed my half-hard cock against the sawhorse end -- but not entirely. Just brushed it, more like, barely a touch and enough to feel good and piss me off. And I didn't want either.
Again, when I finally stopped moving, the hand moved, and again I cursed him in muffled grunts and tossed my head and tried to shake him off. Again, and again. I was panting hard by the fifth time, and still that was all he'd done. He was going to drive me insane, I swear. How long were we supposed to play this game? He could let me up now, he'd made his point, whatever that was, and I had at itch at the back of my thigh and my nose itched -- though that I could handle by rubbing my face against my shoulder even if it didn't budge the gag one bit -- and okay, done now. Really!
"Relax," Heero coaxed.
I thrashed once or twice just to make a point.
"Shh," he said, and this time, his hand didn't move away from my ass, fingertips moving just a little, brushing along the inside curve. "We have plenty of time. I've no intention of rushing this. We'll be here as long as this takes."
As long as what takes? What the fuck? Rushing what? I craned my neck, trying to see over my shoulder, but I couldn't turn far and I only had a glimpse of Heero's bare chest. The light seemed to be suspended lower, leaving his face in darkness. I shook my head madly, tried to holler through the gag but it wasn't words anymore. I had no idea what I'd say. His hands wouldn't move away, and I just... I didn't want him to do that. Don't touch me, I wanted to say. I shook, and the shaking became a shudder as I sank down, letting my weight rest on the sawhorse again. Just talk, Heero, get it over with. His hands did leave me then, and I braced myself, only to find him kneeling before me one more time.
Swiftly he undid the gag and pulled it away, and this time he didn't keep it in front of me, but dropped it to the floor. I stared at it, then at him, wary. My throat was parched, my lips dry. I licked them, coughed, and wanted to glare at him but didn't know what to say. I needed a hint before I could figure out how best to talk my way free.
He said nothing, just ran fingers down my cheek, across my lips. I wanted to pull my head away, but it felt good, and I needed him to say something. He wouldn't if I pissed him off, so I just looked at him. He seemed... tired, maybe, but I'd seen him worse. Worn, or just older. Maybe a little sad. It didn't look right on him. My chest ached, but I ignored it. He dropped his hand, then, resting his elbows on his knees, arms out, hands loose at the wrists. A relaxed posture I'd rarely seen on him. Maybe ever, outside a few times in my apartment or his... I wouldn't think of that. I needed to stay focused on the now. What the fuck did he want?
"When we're done," he said, and raised his hands to hold my face, gently, no threat with his strength, but delicate lightness that confused me, really. "You can walk out of here, and whatever you decide, I'll accept."
I frowned, and unwillingly found my voice. "Done?"
"In twenty-four hours," he said, and was that-- the fucker, that was a flicker at the corner of his mouth, he was amused -- but before I could get out something to yell, he'd moved forward, pressing his mouth against mine, taking full advantage to stab his tongue deep, twisting.
Oh, fucking space, how I'd missed the taste of him. I angled my head, I tried best I could, I brought my tongue to his, wanted to suck him dry and the sudden pull of a band around my upper arms reminded me, even as my cock grew hard, head tapping up against the underside of the sawhorse. That was enough to bring me down, and I bit down on his tongue then jerked my head away, lips shut fast.
Heero pulled back, eyebrows raised. His lips were pressed in a firm line, but his tone held no rancor as he told me, "I see you're going to be difficult."
"You want difficult, I'll show you fucking difficult, Yuy," I snapped. "This isn't funny. Let me up, goddamnit, undo me--"
"No." He stood up, walked off into the darkness.
"Yuy!" I hollered, listening for echoes. Either the room wasn't as large as I thought, or baffled with drapes and carpet. I twisted my head around, trying to see him, wherever he was. "Heero!" I couldn't hear anything. Nothing more than my harsh breathing. Where had he gone, did he just leave me here, he better not have left me here -- and I couldn't hide the panic, I didn't try to hide it, not then. I couldn't help it. "Come back here! Don't you fucking dare--" I broke off, barely able to force the words to make sense, other than an inarticulate cry. "Don't-- don't leave me," I said. Nothing. "Please," I added, jerking against the bonds. "Don't. Don't leave me."
His hand landed on my back, a solid weight but not a slap, just bearing down a little right between my shoulderblades. For a second I flinched, confused how he'd done that, had he been right there the entire time? But just as fast, I relaxed, strangely glad he'd not just walked away and left me there. I couldn't take that, not tied down and held open and not after a kiss like that, I just... I wanted him to undo me. I didn't want to be there, but if I had to be there, I didn't want to be alone. I whispered to myself, trying to gather my strength, I could handle this, just not alone, and the fingers began moving again, until I finally sighed and settled my weight onto the padded surface again.
"I'm not leaving," he said. "I don't plan to leave. You left me."
"I didn't have a choice," I bit out. "I had to--"
A quick whistling sound warned me, but not enough time before a sudden crack across my ass, a thin line of pain. I jumped, yelping inarticulately.
"Don't," I told him, "stop that, that's not, I didn't say this was okay, you can't--"
Another sound of slicing air, and a second line of pain formed across my ass, this time in the tender skin where thigh meets ass. I jerked forward, slamming my hips against the sawhorse end. It banged my cock against the underside and I groaned, a shiver running through me as I tried to steady myself. Not doing that again. Shit.
"You always have a choice," Heero said.
"Not really giving me much of one now, are you?" I twisted my head to see him, but he was too quick. Past my line of sight, or directly behind me, and I didn't want to think about that. "Not sure what kind of a lesson you think this is gonna teach me, but I'm not going to learn it if you keep--"
Another minute warning and the sharp line cut at an angle across my ass, up to just a bit of the small of my back. No wrap-around, and a fine cutting pain. The cane, I guessed, and I craned my neck in the opposite direction, where the strike had to have come from, but he was gone, or maybe the hint of movement was his bare hip above the jet-black of his pants. I couldn't tell. My eyes crossed from the effort, and I turned to look forward again. I'd only give myself a headache trying to turn my head all the way around on my neck. Damn it.
"Stop that," I ordered. "This isn't--"
Another strike.
"Goddamnit, Heero, that fucking hurts!"
"Not yet, it doesn't."
"What? What the fuck is that supposed to mean, undo me! Why the fuck are you doing this to me?"
This time, there was no warning, because it was his hand that landed on my ass, open-palmed, straight down on the bolts from the cane. I yelled, the sensation too much, and thrashed, but half-heartedly. I couldn't get away. The only thing I'd managed to do in all my movement was prove that to myself, but it was just the principle of the thing. I was tired in soul, if not in body, and I just... it didn't make any sense. I'd had my reasons, and if anyone might respect that, wouldn't Heero?
"When you understand," Heero said, and this time, his hand landed softer, on the underside of my ass to run fingers down my thigh and back up again. "Then we'll be done."
"I don't get it," I told him, panting choking my words into something too much like a sob. I breathed through my nose, forced myself to calm. "I don't understand."
"We're not done yet," he replied.
The cane whistled a fifth time.
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no subject
Date: 18 Jul 2007 10:41 am (UTC)*tries to write coherent review*
*fails*
*re-reads*
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Date: 18 Jul 2007 11:16 am (UTC)... But what Heero is doing makes me feel a little uneasy. Being drugged, and then ending up tied up, and a BDSM scene you didn't consent for... It's really flirting with non-con, even when Duo still wants Heero. Brr. But then I suppose that's the feeling you were aiming for, so yay. XD
Now how is this scene going to end, I wonder. *^^*
no subject
Date: 18 Jul 2007 04:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 18 Jul 2007 05:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 18 Jul 2007 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 18 Jul 2007 05:27 pm (UTC)(I have no idea how the next chapter will work things out... erm, we'll have to see. Ugh.)