"Iron Fists "

Written By: ELLE and Miss Murdered

Disclaimer: If Gundam Wing was ours, there'd be ONE damned cannon kiss. All for fun, fun for all! :D

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: post EW, physical violence, m/m sexual relations, cursing, you know – the typical angsty stuff!

Pairings: 1x2x1,

Summary: In the world of illegal cage fighting there are no rules and only the strongest survive. It is a world that Duo has been undercover in for over a year and when the Preventers fear he may have gone rogue unexpected back up arrives...

Author's Notes: Miss Murdered mentioned this little inkling to ELLE one day and several weeks later after ELLE's desire to get into a fight peeked, ELLE asked if they might team up and write some delicious, sexy fight scenes. All Duo's chapters are Miss Murdered's, all Heero's are ELLE's. Enjoy!

"Iron Fists "

 

8.

Heero froze completely under Duo's searching kiss. He couldn't meet those lips, couldn't let himself feel or fuck if that dam wouldn't break and he would be bereft in an ocean of sorrow he didn't think he could hold back any longer.

Wade was dead. That was his choice. The consequences were his - but what would they be? An invitation into the inner circle? A successful mission? Wasn't that supposed to fill him with a sense of fulfilment, satisfaction? Duo was right, he'd killed lots of people. But never like this - not like this. Not so unfairly matched, not someone he trained with, not someone who was so innocent, so damned kind-hearted.

Wrong place, wrong time. Just like her all over again. It wasn't that he was tricked - not like those Alliance members. It wasn't that he made a mistake, even. It was just... it was just fate, cruel, hard and demanding. He had a mission and in completing it, someone innocent died. So why did it feel so fucking bad? Why did it have to feel like this?

"Heero?" Duo's concerned whisper brought him to the edge of reality and the damn gentle hand stroking across his cheek felt like an iron leaving a welt across his skin. He didn't deserve this. He wanted Duo to punch him, to scream, to hate him, to never forgive him. He wanted Duo to exact the revenge he obviously couldn't be trusted to exact on himself. Duo knew him so well, every piece of him, he knew what would happen and he needed Duo to punish him now.

Heero twisted away from that touch, burying his face against the mat and hiding from those knowing eyes. But Duo just rested his hand on his upper arm, soft but forceful. "Heero."

"Leave." The command was simple but Heero didn't expect Duo to listen. Duo never fucking listened. But if he wasn't going to punish him, then he just needed to get the fuck out. Let him punish himself.

"Come back with me." It seemed like a seriously bad idea but then the thought of being in the barracks with all those men, all those men he might have to kill, didn't seem like a brilliant fucking idea either. He just needed to be alone. Seeming to sense how Heero felt, Duo continued. "My place is small, but it can give you some space."

Heero sighed and Duo got off of him, standing, offering his hand but Heero ignored it. They wandered though empty twists and turns and Heero found it comforting to be memorizing the path to Duo's apartment, an activity for his mind to focus on that didn't involve Duo or Wade or the mission. But they'd arrived soon enough and once the door was shut and locked on the dingy room Heero felt himself the subject of Duo's pointed stare.

"I had to do it," he said at last, sitting down on the well-worn bed. At least it didn't smell like the copper of blood or the tangy acridness of piss.

Duo just shook his head sadly and suddenly Heero was torn by the wish that Duo would come and embrace him and wrap his body around him and tell him it would be okay - and the pitiful desire to have made the opposite decision and be as far the fuck away from Duo as possible, to hide from him and everyone else once again.

"It was the quickest way to ensure the success of the mission," he continued monotonously, noting how Duo's fists started shaking. Maybe he would finally get the punishment and hatred he deserved. "They know I will kill."

Duo shook his head vehemently. "You didn't have to do it."

"The mission -"

"Don't you fucking get it? You are more than a goddamned mission!" Duo shouted suddenly, crossing the room like a tempest, and Heero thought - finally - and he waited for the punches that never came.

Instead, Duo's hands were buried in his hair, his lips pressed against his, his tongue roving his mouth desperately, as if he was trying to get some reaction, some tiny assurance that he hadn't lost him yet, that there was something there worth saving.

And Heero trembled under his force. He found his hands clinging to Duo's hips with a desperation that surprised him. And he kissed back, finding such comfort in Duo's touch that he couldn't deny it this time. In a strange way it was a different type of punishment - an acknowledgment of his compassion, his heart, his undeniable emotions. They seared through him like a hot knife tearing at every piece of him, twisting his gut in agony. If Duo only knew, he wouldn't touch him. The guilt gnawed away inside but his willpower was so infinitesimal when it came to his lover he would rather fester in remorse and misery than reject that touch.

When neither could breath any longer Heero pulled away and Duo trailed blistering kisses down his neck and across his sweaty shoulders, the heat in the tiny room feeling oppressive and suffocating and they were only making it worse but neither really cared. Duo's hands slid down his body, down his sides, and the sensation of those finger tips on his flesh made his stomach clench and he buried his fingers in Duo's hips, hanging on to him like a lifeline.

"I need you," he whispered, afraid of the sound of his own voice in the small room. Duo's touch quickly became more aggressive and Heero fell into it, unable to fight it, unable to deny it.

As much as he wanted Duo's hate, he realized with a sickening feeling that it was his love he needed most. After the war in a life without training centres and piloting and tactical decisions, Heero had been lost in a sea of posttraumatic stress disorder. If he had been shut down before, there weren't words to describe his self-imposed isolation post-war. No one had heard from him for a few months after the Mariemaia Incident and so Duo sought him out with a realistic amount of reservation. When Heero didn't want to be found, it was usually for a reason. But he sucked it up and was dismayed to find his former comrade holed up in an abandoned bunker with a ridiculous supply of protein bars and bottled water having sustained him for two months with the ability to keep him wallowing in his own paranoia and filth for another sixteen.

It had taken Duo a year to get him to the point where he could interact with people enough to take a job with Preventer and even then they made a deal with Une that he would be able to work with Relena, undergo rigorous therapy, and postpone his psych evaluations for a while. He acknowledged that without Duo's patience, caring, and eventual affection, he would probably have blown his brains out long ago. But that lead him to a direct comparison of his life against Wade's and he wondered - maybe it would've been better had he done it. So many times during those two months he was sealed up in the shelter he stared down the barrel of his 45, wrapped in guilt and loneliness and despair, and he wondered...

Duo's touch had saved him so that he could go on to kill another day. Duo's touch might be able to save him again - ground him, give him purpose - but he would be forced to kill again.

"Heero?" Duo questioned carefully. Heero's eyes stared blankly at the wall, lost in his thoughts, lost in the feeling of Duo's caress on his skin. "Heero, look at me." He placed a firm hand on his jaw and twisted his neck to meet his eyes.

For a moment Duo did nothing but stare down at him and he stared back, wondering if Duo knew, wondering if Duo truly understood what he did to him.

"Heero, one action doesn't define you," he spoke slowly. "You can make a choice. You can choose how to use your hands." But Heero knew Duo was wrong. He'd been trained for one thing, his whole life, that one decisive moment. The killing blow. There was no choice - there was only violence.

Duo pressed his lips to Heero's for a moment before pulling away ever so slightly so that his voice was merely a whisper against his lips. "Come back to me."

Something in Heero snapped for a moment and he gripped Duo's hands, desperately pressing them against his bare chest. In that singular moment he remembered - he remembered the feeling of joy, happiness, warmth - and he begged in a small, hopeless voice, "I need you to touch me."

In one swift motion Duo ripped off his shirt, throwing his arms around Heero and pressing their bare chests together, pushing them back on the bed. Heero's body shook as feeling poured through him. He'd gotten so used to turning it off, protecting himself with Duo gone, that he had almost shut his lover out completely this time and while he acknowledged that might not have been a mistake as far as the mission was concerned, it would've been a mistake in the greater scheme of his life.

Maybe he and Duo didn't have the most functional relationship. Maybe Duo left him for months on end. Maybe Duo had his own apartment still and their time together was limited by their inability to function in a normal chore-wheel and shared-sink tooth-brushing kind of way, but Duo was his anchor, his rock, his ability to interface with the whole fucking world and to cut him off, reject him... he would be acknowledging that it was over. He might as well crawl back into that bunker and curl up with his gun.

And when Duo touched him, he knew beyond a doubt that he didn't want to do that.

Heero's kisses became more passionate as he opened up more and more of himself to his partner in the safety the little room gave them. Duo reciprocated, his hands playing up and down Heero's sides with a gentle kind of roughness. Each well-placed touch burned into Heero, bringing him back, grounding him in the knowledge that there was something here for him still. He could still feel. He could still have fleeting moments of joy if Duo would still have him.

Nimble fingers edged against his waistband and Heero bit back a gasp, surprised by how compliant his body was considering how fortified he thought his barriers against Duo were only moments ago. But then, he never could truly deny the braided man who saved him from the ashes of his former life.

As Duo unfastened his pants, Heero's fingers traced the outline of a black and white eagle on Duo's rib cage, spanning from his hip to his nipple - new and not yet completed, larger than any of the others - and he pondered at the symbolism of it. Eagles had been extinct for over three hundred years - they were practically mythical. Duo seemed somewhat uncomfortable for that brief moment as he shifted to remove Heero's pants as well as his own, forcing Heero's fingers from him by virtue of his distance. In the absence of Duo's skin, his fingers fell to the two thin scars on his own bicep. It wasn't like Duo to be self-conscious of his body, but Heero didn't have time to dwell on it as his partner ran teasing fingers up his thighs, just narrowly skirting across all his sensitive spots but missing the crux of the issue, causing him to inhale sharply and bury his fingers into Duo's flesh.

Without much fanfare Duo kissed him deeply and Heero held him against his body, relishing in the feeling of the other man, the feeling he didn't get to experience in the rush of the locker room, and he felt a sense of completion he didn't realize he was missing.

Duo was here, now. And Duo would take care of him. And he would take care of Duo.

Duo reached into a bag on the floor and pulled out some lube obtained covertly on the black market - the shit you had to get black market on an abandoned resource satellite colony was damn near embarrassing - and he glanced down at Heero once the tube was open, one hand pressed firmly into the centre of his chest.

"You're sure?" he asked. He'd learned the hard way that Heero struggled with letting his guard down, even when he wanted to.

Heero grabbed him by the back of his neck and locked their lips together, dragging his whole body down against him before he finally released him, both of them panting for breath.

"I need to feel you."

And Duo understood. He didn't say a word but Heero knew he understood. He might not have ever listened but he damn well had to know the power his touch had over Heero.

A deep groan escaped Heero's lips as Duo's slickened fingers entered him and Heero buried his head against the other man's shoulder, clinging to him as the sensation overwhelmed his starving body. He felt helpless against the tidal wave of feeling and emotion and need crashing down on him and he clung to Duo as though he were drowning.

Duo shifted and his fingers slid out, leaving Heero a quivering mass of over stimulated nerves and he buried a hand in Duo's hair, forcing his nose to his as Duo deftly lubed himself one-handed, his previous experiences with Heero's unreasonable neediness teaching him the necessary skills to manage it. He met Heero's questioning eyes with steeled resolve and Heero kissed him again, not letting himself blink, wanting to see every dilation of pleasure as Duo pressed into him with firm dedication.

But it was almost more than he could bare and his head snapped to the side as Duo pushed in, filling him, completing him. Sharing with him the essence of primordial humanity. Showing him a piece of himself that was meant to have been removed. Showing him that his own weakness was a strength - that feeling was good and right and - fuck but it was good.

Duo's rhythm was painfully steady, each thrust slow and deliberate, each thrust a contraction of his thighs that Heero felt against the backs of his own thighs, driving him mad with the anticipation of each fluid movement. Kisses fell like rain against his shoulders and his face and Duo's fingers laced through his own, holding his hands over his head, and Heero surrendered completely to his prone captivity, no will to fight the man who showed him what good felt like - the man who opened up a whole piece of himself he had never known existed.

He realized soft moans were escaping him as Duo hit his prostate over and over, his dick twitching and swelling with each hit, his eyes slamming shut and his vision whiting out against the onslaught. And then Heero heard the telltale gasp that indicated Duo was close, he felt it too. A firm hand encircled him and only the barest amount of friction was needed as Duo smashed into him and he was over the edge with an alarming shout, his legs constricting and forcing Duo to bury himself deep inside as he met him there.

Duo collapsed on Heero's chest, Duo's face pressed against Heero's cheek, kisses planted, breathy sighs exchanged. A shaky hand pressed against Heero's face and it felt hot - his whole body felt so hot. Duo sparked an inferno within him, a flame that took weeks to put out.

"Missed this," Duo whispered into the quiet room after a long time of tender, reaffirming touches and gentle camaraderie was shared between them.

It gave Heero the one thing he wanted more than any other thing in the whole damned Earth Sphere - confirmation that Duo was his. That Duo still wanted him. That despite all his running, there was a chance for them.

And that was how he knew why Duo chose him over Wade, why he would forgive him, why he would make such passionate love to him despite his transgressions.

In his bursting moment of clarity he understood what it had been this whole time, something Relena had tried to tell him so many years ago. These long under covers were Duo's bunker. He was hiding, hiding from the things he couldn't deal with, hiding from that affection he only shared in little moments like this. Heero knew, knew too damned well that if he didn't drag him out, fuck if Duo wouldn't be lost to him completely.

And that was how he decided - he would do whatever he had to do to get them home.

 

Chapter 9

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