It seemed to last forever amid the ache of limbs confined - the relentless thrust of hard flesh driving into him. Heero was raping him. Slick pain that wasn't exactly pain filled him, more a raw sense of invasion, of violation, of... betrayal. Duo grit his teeth and endured. As he'd endured so much for so long; loss, pain, abandonment, starvation. Scorn. The sick shame of his first kill... the first of many. Blunted horror. Bloody battle. Stark terror. And a sense of guilty relief, as he survived each mission, that almost felt like a kind of death...
Smiles and humor had long ago become his shield; his way to spit in the face of his own fears. Not a lie... but a dodge... but not much of dodge in the face of the compulsion Professor G's training had inflicted on him. The old man hadn't seemed to be that much of a crackpot when Duo first encountered him - or even when he first agreed to the cutting-edge intensive and ultimately invasive mobile suit training - but he was going to pop the old pointy- nosed bastard one now the next time he saw him that was for sure.
It was just too much to take anymore. This was too much... His own try at breaking the hated compulsion - by denying it the purge of release it demanded after each battle in which he flew his Gundam - had clearly backfired. If it had been an enemy who had witnessed his vulnerability... but instead it had been Heero... Heero who had incomplete conditioning of his own in his head. Heero who was now... He twisted his thoughts away from what was happening to his body, returning instead to his own part in this. If only he'd not been so close to his limit... the drive so relentless... careless idiot...
He damn well knew to check a location like the hanger more thoroughly before making himself vulnerable... he knew that. It was basic street survival. Beyond that he knew stealth and security and demolitions. War. Revenge. But there were plenty of things he would never know... like what his normal sexual reaction might have been before G's training. If he'd have preferred girls or boys - or both. Because now he could want neither. Instead he lusted after an inanimate suit of armor...
His 'buddy'. His speed. His strength. His... freedom. Piloting the Gundam gave him things he'd never had before; the ability to no longer be helpless, a way to shape his own destiny and the destiny of those around him, a way to defend those who could not - or would not - defend themselves.
It was bitter irony that he honestly loved flying; he loved piloting the huge Gundam. Felt at one with it when he fought with it. Powerful, free and deadly. Unstoppable. Untraceable. Rightfully feared by OZ and failed Alliance alike. He loved every second he spent in Deathscythe's cockpit; until... after the battles ended... until the twisted 'reward' welled up... the need to purge himself... to release himself into or onto his Gundam. That he hated. It was cheap and lowering and demeaning... and it had become a definite liability.
Damn. He might just have to hit G twice now. But Doctor J... J was fucking dead if he ever got his hands on that bastard. Shinigami had a new target now. Heero shifted above him, steely fingers biting into the skin of his hips and making him grunt involuntarily as Heero thrust forward... and his mind spun away again onto something, anything else.
What he resented most of all - loathed, actually - was that he had had no choice; G hadn't told him about the conditioning. Hadn't warned him. Sometimes he wondered why. They'd had a pretty good relationship, he'd thought. The old fart hadn't seemed so crazy to him, until he discovered that unpleasant little side-effect of his pilot training.
Funny how G had never mentioned it later either; he knew he was just too stubborn-proud to bring it up. Admit to the old fuck that his mind-games had worked? Admit that the only thing that let your hormone-ridden teen-age body get it's rocks off was jerking off in the unfeeling presence of your mobile suit? No way. He'd rather surrender himself to OZ and Lady Une's 'tender' mercies.
Giving up his Gundam wasn't an option. He had to use it. But that didn't keep him from longing for some way to break the conditioning - because he wanted to experience the tremble of another's flesh against his own rather than the press of cold armor... feel the brush of another's urgent breath on his lips instead of just the breeze from cockpit fans... hear the groans of response not just the hiss of exotic hydraulics - with a need that daily grew stronger. But there was nothing he could do except deny himself. And that hadn't worked long... it had just eaten away at his control until the compulsion finally drove him in here to recklessly jerk off all over 'Scythe.
But this... fuck no... this wasn't quite what he'd longed for, he mused darkly to himself, trying to stifle another grunt of discomfort as Heero thrust deeper than before into him and his mental focus shattered, bringing him starkly back to reality.
His body was shuddering under the rhythmic assault, pressed back against the scaffolding behind Shenlong until his neck was bent painfully, head trapped by his own knotted braid, arms stretched above. Heero's hands on his hips were still digging in painfully, bruising him, scratching him. His bound legs ached; his thighs tense from the unaccustomed strain of being spread wide by another's hips. That didn't even begin to cover the hard, slick intrusion inside him... no pain, at least, not exactly... oh gods would it never end?
Even though he refused to close his eyes for long, he purposefully didn't look Heero in the face. He stared at his own hands, twisted tightly in green cloth, the knuckles white. No. He didn't want to associate the dark-haired Wing pilot he'd been slowly warming to with this... travesty. Part of him truly understood it wasn't Heero's will that was driving him to this - that Heero was under the same kind of sick geas he was courtesy of Doctor J. Only Heero's apparently had an especially vicious twist to it... he'd been supposed to fix on Relena and seduce her; helpless, hopeless, hapless Relena Darlian- Peacecraft. But instead it had gone wrong... and now, somehow, Heero had fixed on him... Duo shuddered, gasping, mind unable to grasp all the implications... part of him desperately not wanting to...
He grunted again as Heero drove into him again. Thoughts scrambling, hands flexing in taut cloth. Shit shit shit... what a disaster...
It seemed to last forever, but his inner time-sense told him it had really only been a few minutes.
The compulsion, once given in to, at least brought Heero to peak quickly. Heero finally stopped moving; quivering faintly above him, body stilling after one last, especially deep thrust - but this time he struck something inside Duo that make him arch up for a moment in shocked reaction as a new sensation... almost pleasure... ripped through him like lightning ...what the hell? He moaned before he could stop himself, biting his lip fiercely to cut the sound off. He stared wide-eyed now at Heero who leaned above him, head bowed, panting fiercely, sweat dripping off him in a way Duo seldom saw. Heero's body was trembling now too as if he'd just spend the last few hours in intense battle.
And Duo knew he had been fighting this... for months... he'd even fought here, after it was triggered. Heero... he'd gone to get lube when Duo asked... used it, even... Duo's mind whirled in bemused panic. It shouldn't have felt good... none of it... it couldn't... his own conditioning forbade it anyway... he couldn't feel pleasure... no... not while Heero was still hard inside him... inside... unless... could this break it? How... why...
He snapped back into focus when he saw Heero's eyes snap open through the fall of dark bangs, felt the body above his tense subtly. The trembling stopped. Heero was staring with daunting intensity at the place where his body pierced Duo's.
"Are you done?" he heard himself ask, his throat tight with things he could only guess at: resignation, discomfort, disbelief... shock. Ohpleaseohplease...
Heero slowly raised his head. The dark blue eyes scrutinized him from an impassive face. Remote. Distant. Desperately, he looked deeper into those eyes, looking for signs of returning reason, found a brief flicker of emotion. But nothing he recognized; no regret, no remorse, no alarm. But would the Perfect Soldier show those anyway?
Duo sucked in an alarmed breath, unable to stop himself. The stark admission made something inside his chest twist painfully; his body shuddered. He screwed his eyes shut, fighting back the pointless desire to yell, to struggle, to shove Heero off of him. He'd already found out how much good that would do. His head still ached where Heero had pounded it on the floor. His ingrained street instincts were already screaming warnings at him... stay still... resistance was the quick way to death... but he couldn't just keep quiet... submit without protest...
"You... Heero... I can't take it much longer..." Duo gasped, trying communication again. Maybe now words would reach him... Heero said nothing, expression unchanging as he stared at him and Duo subsided. Waiting. Fine tremors ran through him. He wanted to run... to hide... But his hands were trapped, his legs were bound and cramped, his eyes stung - Heero was still inside him... still there... his mind whirled with near-panic. Not sure, now, what alarmed him more... Heero's continuing compulsion or that brief, terrifying brush of pleasure...
Heero's bent thighs were under his hips. He'd been holding him up as he... as he fucked him... arching him back against his bonds. Heero made no attempt to draw out of him now, even though Duo could tell he wasn't as rock-hard as he'd been before. Heero's hands slid up his trembling thighs toward his knees, pressing them together, holding him steady. A surprisingly welcome support for strained muscles.
He opened his eyes again, looking up into deep blue eyes. Heavy lids flickered over them once as Heero's bruised lips parted. "Understood," he said.
Heero leaned forward. He untied Duo's braid from the scaffolding, then reached up and slipped the green tank top off the bolt above, drawing Duo's hands down, lifting Duo's body up effortlessly, his strength so much more than anyone else's. As he did so, Heero's cock shifted within Duo, pressing on new places inside him, until Duo was arching back in shock as spikes of pleasure shot through him, sharp and unexpected.
"Wh-what the hell... oh god!" Duo gasped, struggling weakly as he felt Heero lower his arms down and tuck them between their bodies, his wrists still tangled in cloth. Hard arms closed around his back, pressing him close to the other boy's chest for a moment.
Then Heero rose up on his knees, leaning forward, and braced Duo's shoulders against the scaffolding. One arm looped under his ass, the other wrapped around his upper back, holding him tightly. Trapping him between unyielding metal and the even harder cage of Heero's body. He bit back a groan of dismay, already feeling another building on it's heels. Humiliated, oddly desolate and desperate to ease the strange feeling inside him, he rocked his own hips back trying to escape it, eyes flying wide as lightning-heat struck him again, making him shudder and cry out again despite himself.
"That is your prostate gland," Heero said in a flat tone, his voice only faintly breathless. Half-lidded eyes stared into his own, watching him closely as he panted wildly for breath. "It is sensitive to... stimulation during penetration."
"No shit?" Duo groaned, appalled, trying to shift away. He did understand the mechanics of it after all. His training had covered that, in case of capture and... torture. But the feel of it... he had no experience with the actuality. His mind threatened to blank on him, caught up in the glitter-bright sensation as Heero pumped slowly against that spot again.
And then the hand beneath his shoulders moved, sliding around and down his body to close over his still flaccid penis, warm and heavy. Panic flared high, narrowing his vision even though his eyes were open wide.
"Heero... no... don't..." Duo's breath came shorter. Sharper. Desperate. Heart aching, throat tight. He bit the rest of the words back, still mindful of Heero's earlier admonition not to beg. ...Please don't try to make me help you rape me, he finished silently, pleading with his gaze alone. Impassive eyes stared down at him for a frozen span of heartbeats. Then, to his shock, the hand slid away from his non-responsive organ and Heero lowered him back down to the deck. Hands braced him outside Duo's shoulders. The dark head bent and he felt as well as heard Heero draw several slow, deep breaths.
What was this? Now... now he was listening? Duo's mind reeled. Maybe the compulsion was done after all... maybe...
Heero pushed up, hands rising to hold his knees steady as he drew carefully out of Duo's body. The relief of it at last made him groan even though was no real sting or pain, just an unfamiliar ache and a vague cramping feeling.
Heero's hands were already working at the knotted bootlaces around his legs. Freeing him. He bit his lip to keep back a cry as Heero gently straightened first one leg, then the other, cramped muscles and strained joints protesting the movement. A dark gaze pinned him briefly from beneath that tumbled mass of hair.
"You can free your hands," the low voice said. Duo came back to himself then in a rush. Scrambled to get his wrists free of the heavy fabric. He flung the tank top aside violently, raising his hands to scrub them hard over his hair, his face, rubbing hardest at the places where he had felt Heero's blood drip on him.
"There does not appear to be any external damage. And there is no blood," Heero said quietly. Duo froze, staring out blankly between splayed fingers, aware that Heero was still kneeling between his spread thighs, aware of the warmth of Heero's hands resting on his lowered knees.
"I want my pants," Duo said, his voice shakier than he wanted it to be. Heero nodded once and moved away slowly, making no sudden moves. The barely-restrained brutality of earlier was gone. Duo tried not to look at him, but he rolled onto his side, facing Heero, not able to turn his back on him either. He tugged the tails of his black shirt down, covering himself and feeling stupid for doing it. Heero had already seen everything... been inside of him... But he couldn't help it. It was instinct to cover himself. Flimsy protection...
Heero held out both his underwear and his pants to him, but Duo saw only the pants. He snatched them away from Heero and shimmied himself into them as quickly as he could, zipping them up with reckless speed. Then he sat up, wincing at the ache in his thighs, in his ass, quickly shifting until he was sitting more on his hip, anger flaring for the necessity. His head hurt like hell too, now that he was upright. A dull, heavy throb at the back of his skull to go with the stinging of his scalp from the pulling on his braid.
"Shit... I hurt freakin' everywhere..."
"Duo. Look at me." The firm command startled him and he looked up to find Heero crouched in front of him, hands dangling lax over his knees, a tiny frown on his face. Dark eyes searched his and he realized, with no small sense of shock, that Heero was checking his pupils for signs of concussion. He held Heero's gaze defiantly, letting some of his angry contempt show.
"Hn," was all Heero said when his gaze flickered away at last, apparently satisfied that he was not concussed. Then he turned away and gathered up his shorts, standing up to draw them on with brisk efficiency and Duo only then realized that Heero had been crouched there in front of him naked.
"Heero? Are you done now?" Duo asked as he rose slowly to his own feet, eyeing the dark- haired boy sidelong.
Duo spun, putting all his weight behind the fist that lashed out and connected solidly with Heero's face. The other boy staggered back, head snapping to the side, shoulders twisting to absorb the blow, but he didn't go down. The skin over his cheekbone had split; blood welled and a tiny trickle rolled down his cheek. Heero braced himself for a moment in that position, already bruised mouth held in a grim line, before he slowly lifted his head, gaze tracking over and locking on Duo.
Duo shook his aching hand once, glaring back. Damn, but Heero had a hard head.
"You ever try to jump me like that again and I'll..." he began hotly, braced for retaliation, his throat closing a little with the force of emotions he didn't want to face.
Heero simply watched him, gaze steady and calm. "Understood. I will warn you first."
His hands fisted at his sides in frustration, teeth clenched as he snapped back at him. "You bastard! That's not what I meant!"
Heero moved then, with all the uncanny speed he was capable of - Duo tried to dodge, but hands closed around his face, spread fingers cupped his neck and jaw on both sides, thumbs stopped hard beneath his chin. Trapped. He was trapped again. His pulse jumped wildly. He brought his hands up sharply, fisted, between Heero's arms in a breaking move, but only bruised his forearms and jerked his own head up painfully against that implacable grasp. Heero took a half-step closer to him pressing him back against the scaffolding again, pinning him with a warning glare. Duo caught at Heero's wrists then, tried to simply shove his hands away but it was like trying to bend gundanium - impossible. He could knee him in the groin but he wasn't sure what that would provoke from Heero next... so he settled for glaring into narrowed eyes in return and tried not to wish he had a gun.
"A warning is all I can offer you," Heero said quietly, his voice still inhumanly calm. "Intercourse appears to be a side effect of the programming. I do not know how to circumvent it."
"Yuy... this is... stupid... I don't want you..."
"That does not matter. It is fixed. You are now under my... protection."
Duo blinked at him in disbelief. Aware of the easing of Heero's grasp on his face, enough so a thumb rubbed slowly along the bottom of his chin. Almost a caress...
"You have got to be kidding me," Duo said starkly after a moment of silence spent listening to the blood throb in his ears. "What kind of 'protection' was that?" Heero's gaze didn't even flicker.
"The programming is set now. I will protect you."
Anger and outrage flared at last; they had been slow to rise for some odd reason. "Like hell! I'm a Gundam pilot just like you, Heero! How the fuck do you think you're gonna do that when we go on missions, huh?"
Brief confusion and something that looked almost like pain clouded the dark eyes and Heero frowned at him.
"Agreed. That will present difficulties."
Fury spiked. He glared at Heero, not quite daring to try to twist his face out of his hold again yet. "Really? No shit! This whole mess kinda 'presents difficulties' doncha think?"
Heero stared at him silently for a long moment, meeting his furious glare without blinking. Then, abruptly, he leaned forward, tilting his head slightly to the side so that their noses didn't bump as he pressed his mouth to Duo's. Startled, trapped, Duo gasped in surprise which only opened his mouth to the firm entrance of Heero's tongue. It swept gently through his mouth, brushing against his own tongue, warm and seeking... and something like panic filled him.
What the fuck? Heero was kissing him now... was he completely deranged? Duo dropped one hand from Heero's wrists and found Heero's throat. He pushed sharply against Heero's esophagus; heard the other boy choke slightly until he finally pulled back to prevent his air from being cut off. Dark eyes narrowed in annoyance but he could feel the calm, even throb of Heero's pulse under his fingers. Heero made no move to knock his hand away, instead he simply watched him from hooded eyes, hands still cupping Duo's face and locking them in this odd tableau.
"If you have to protect me now, then I don't have to put up with this kinda shit from you," Duo said at last, breathlessly. As if it was his throat being squeezed instead. Heero's gaze didn't waver.
"You felt pleasure when I was inside you."
Duo's face flamed, his glare narrowed and his fingers stiffened against Heero's throat. "What the hell does that have to do with it?"
"I am not Deathscythe."
Blinking in shock, Duo struggled with the odd statement. "No," he finally said with a harsh laugh. "You are one seriously fucked-up raping bastard, Heero Yuy, but you're certainly not a mobile suit."
Heero frowned at him in faint annoyance. "Duo, your conditioning showed... alteration. Perhaps mine may be altered as well."
Duo gaped at him. Normally, he was a quicker thinker than this. Normally. Which didn't quite cover having just survived an attack by one of his fellow pilots... someone he'd slowly come to trust... to respect in ways, even...
"You want to use this..." He felt thick, slow. Off balance. As if he were dancing near the edge of some dark and deadly precipice inside his head.
"Duo." The hands on his face tightened fractionally. It only fueled his unease, his disorientation. He was shaking. Trembling uncontrollably now. Now, when he hadn't before... during...
Words spilled out in a rush, his voice barely more than a strangled whisper. "You fuckin' tie me up and rape me... and you want to use it..."
"Duo," Heero repeated sternly, silencing him briefly by giving his face a firm shake with an impatient flex of his fingers. "The situation exists. We have no choice. We either use it or it uses us..."
Duo laughed, harshly, feeling hysteria bubbling up from deep within that dark abyss and let his hand fall away from Heero's throat. He released Heero's wrist too and his other hand fell limply at his side as he sagged back against the scaffolding. He found himself staring glassily at the cut he'd put on Heero's cheek, at the drying trickle of blood, at the bruise rising beneath it. Wondering, idly, if Heero's blood tasted the same as his own or if it had been as drastically altered as the rest of Heero.
"...unless you kill me."
Heero's intently spoken words doused his rising hysteria with cold shock. He stared at him, heart thudding painfully in his chest.
"I have wronged you. Hurt you without provocation. Raped you," Heero said flatly, letting his hands fall away from Duo's face at last. Standing before him, shirtless, shoeless, unarmed Heero was still easily the most deadly individual he'd ever met in his entire checkered existence. "I will most probably attempt to do it again unless a way can be found to break this conditioning. The only way to be certain it will not happen again is to kill me."
He blinked at Heero again, anger stirring. But a different kind of anger - exasperated, familiar. He should have guessed Heero would come up with that solution. As often as Heero offered his life to others or tried to take it himself, he'd frankly wondered why Heero was still alive this far into the war. But then a soldier who didn't fear death was a deadly solider indeed... he should know... Duo had to admit he'd already thought of killing him, but when Heero himself suggested it... For a moment - a long, selfish, pained moment - he was tempted. A gun barrel close to one of those deep blue eyes... for that single instant Heero wouldn't fight... a gentle squeeze of the trigger... a spray of blood and bone... over... revenge... no more fear... But... no. No. He understood far too well the false lure of running away from pain and fear. It did no good. And killing Heero would only be running without hope of finding release from the fear ever again... He remembered the warning Heero had tried to give him... knew how easily he could have broken bones... the lube... the way he had checked him for damage...
"No," Duo said out loud, glaring at him, teeth clenched, hands fisted. Feeling fragile and already broken and deadly all at the same time. "That's too damn easy, Heero - you're not getting off that lightly. Aren't you pissed? Aren't you hopping mad at J for doing this to you?" Something flickered in the dark eyes again - a reaction. He bared his teeth at Heero in a silent snarl and jerked his thumb at his own chest. "Well I am! And I'm gonna find that prick and kill him... after I make him fix your head."
Heero actually blinked once at that. "You would trust him to 'fix my head'?'
"No, guess I wouldn't. Okay, I'll just kill the bastard," Duo said after a second's thought, then shrugged, relaxing fractionally when Heero didn't argue with him. "He deserves it already for fucking you up so bad in the first place, much less this demented piece of tripe."
Heero shot him a brief odd look for that. Confused, almost uncertain. It vanished almost immediately into the stony concentration of Heero entering mission mode. The other boy stepped back, scooped up his tank top and shook it out, tugging the creased, stretched cloth briskly over his head. Duo gave him a dark, feral grin. Damn, he hated that tank top even more now...
"Heero," he said after a silent moment spent watching him crouch down beside Duo's lace-less boots and nimbly begin lacing them up again. The dark head lifted. "Don't touch my braid again."
There was a brief nod of acknowledgement, a glitter of intent gaze beneath tumbled bangs before Heero went back to work restoring Duo's boots to full working condition again.
"Heero," he said again, not certain exactly why. Something was running through him like tremors. The other boy paused again in his work, head lifting. "Why did you...stop?"
The dark gaze bored into him. "Because I could."
- - fin - -