WARNINGS: Occasional triggering, history/mentions of self-harm and suicide ideation. Angst. Dubious consent. Alcohol and drug usage. Gratuitous amounts of sex (some in graphic detail). Explicit language.

In this chapter specifically: explicit sexual content, blood


The motorcycle skids to a stop in front of a nondescript hotel. Perhaps Duo would recognize it, if he had the wherewithal to focus on anything except the scorching heat of Heero's back. The fabric of their clothing is doing nothing to contain the tension rising between their bodies. The rumble of the motor quiets, then vanishes, and Heero snaps the stand down with an impatient jerk from his booted foot. Duo comes back to himself for long enough to realize that he is completely, painfully hard. And as Heero slides from the bike, turning to latch those sapphire eyes onto his face, Duo sees that he'd felt it. An arrogant, knowing smirk is curled across Heero's lips, and Duo shudders violently.

"Come," Heero orders, as he turns to the brightly lit entrance of the hotel.

"Planning on it," Duo mumbles under his breath, and he thinks he hears a low chuckle from the figure in front of him. He climbs off of the bike, nearly falling as his wobbly legs hit the ground. He can't pinpoint whether it's the alcohol flooding his system or the arousal short-circuiting his brain that's gotten him completely off balance. Probably a combination of both, he muses, as he staggers after Heero.

Heero sweeps past the reception desk without a second glance, no shyness in the evidence of his plans. He vanishes into the dimly lit hallway without checking to see if Duo is following. Duo trails behind him like an abandoned child, ducking his head beneath the knowing stare of the man sitting behind the desk. Reeking of alcohol as he is, it's clear that he's Heero's most recent (or only? The thought that he doesn't know bothers him for a moment) plaything. A hint of shame penetrates the sweet, fuzzy haze of tipsiness and arousal surrounding him, and for a moment he wonders what exactly he's doing. With the moment of clarity, a bloody face arises in his memory, his name on its lips, betrayal in its eyes.

Shaking his head, he quickens his steps and reaches Heero just as the other man is pushing open the door to a room. Heero pushes the door closed behind him and reaches out to turn on the light. Duo's heart stutters quickly, knowing that there will be too much revealed in the harsh brightness of fluorescent lights. The multitude of scars, the bruising from his battle harness, the desperation in his violet eyes. He catches Heero's hand, bringing it to his lips, and nips at the knuckles.

"It's better in the darkness, isn't it?"

Heero doesn't answer, but Duo senses the heavy weight of his eyes. Just as Duo is about to break the silence, chafing under the slight disapproval wafting off of Heero, the other man jerks his hand away and stalks to the window. His steps are light and nearly silent, the padding of a man used to going unheard. He twitches open the curtains, allowing slivers of moonlight to spear through the blinds and lighten the room.

"I like to see what I'm doing," Heero growls, and there's a hint of reproach in his tone.

Duo's skin crawls beneath the chastising words, and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy hair. "Right, of course."

He is seconds away from apologizing when Heero steps out of the shadows beside him and crushes his lips to Duo's. It's like no kiss Duo has ever experienced. Heero's lips are soft, delightfully so, and skilled, but the kiss is more teeth and demanding tongue than the caress of lips meeting. Even so, it is exactly what he craves. He arches into Heero, his hands clutching at the rough fabric of Heero's shirt, and his mouth parts on a moan. Heero's tongue instantly slips into his mouth, exploring with a fierce possessiveness that stuns him. He is suddenly and violently hard, shame of the lobby forgotten beneath the onslaught. Heero pulls back slightly, tongue withdrawing, and bites down on Duo's lip. This is no love bite, more of a claiming, a mark. Heero's hand laces into the hair at the nape of Duo's neck and Duo shivers, paralyzed. He licks his lips, nervously, and tastes blood.

Heero's hand tightens and a jolt of mingled fear and arousal shoots through Duo's body. A quiet whimper escapes his lips, and he swallows a groan as Heero's dark chuckle echoes through the room. That laugh skips his brain altogether and arrows straight to his groin. The fingers in his hair twist, and Duo finds himself being turned toward the bed. He stumbles as Heero shoves him, pressing him down into the mattress. He turns his face to the side, breathing in the musty scent of hotel sheets, and struggles to draw in a full breath. Heero is barely touching him, their only connection the hand in his hair, but he can feel the overpowering presence of the other man like a leaden weight.

Heero presses himself over Duo's back, blanketing him. His breath flutters across Duo's ear as he leans in close, and he can feel a shiver run through Duo's slim frame. Rolling his hips, he grinds himself against Duo's ass, a hiss of pleasure escaping from between his lips. Duo's pleading whimper is muffled against the rough cotton sheets, and he shifts himself into the mattress, trying to find some kind of relief for the overwhelming arousal flooding his body.

Heero's voices slips over him like sin incarnate. "How would you like me to take you?"

Duo swallows audibly, knowing that his answer is probably irrelevant. At this point, he is so desperate to find release that he'd agree to just about anything. "However you'd like."

There is a twitch against his backside to match Heero's sharply indrawn breath, and Duo arches off of the bed as he is dragged up by his hair. His mouth opens in protest, tears springing to his eyes, but he clamps his teeth around the complaint. He needs this pain.

"On your back then. I want to see your face when you scream."

Duo quakes at the words, dropped carelessly into the silence of the room. He is trembling beneath the molten heat of Heero's touch, coming apart at the seams with alarming rapidity. Heero's hands are all over him, sure and unhesitating. His coat drops to the ground in a forgotten puddle, and a searing warmth lights up his chest as Heero's hands slip beneath his shirt. He shivers a little in the chill of the room as his shirt joins his coat, and again as Heero's hands move deftly to the buckle of his belt. Duo almost reaches out to touch Heero, but a soft snarl stops him in his tracks. He allows himself to be shoved back onto the bed, landing this time on his back.

Heero yanks Duo's pants off unceremoniously, discarding his boxers as well. Duo barely has time to register the cool air on his uncomfortably hard cock before Heero's hand is wrapped around it, calluses scraping the soft skin. Duo's back bows as the pleasure overwhelms him, and a pitiful whine grates into the still room. Heero's thumb runs over the tip, collecting the evidence of Duo's loss of control, fingers just a little too rough for pure pleasure. Duo's hands grip the sheets, cotton clenched tightly into his fists. His eyes are clamped closed, whole being narrowed into the almost painful strokes of Heero's hand.

Cool air hits him as a zipper rattles, the metallic noise melding with Duo's groan of frustration. He cracks open his eyes to find Heero pulling himself out of his pants, leaving himself fully clothed. Heero strokes himself slowly, his eyes pinning Duo to the bed. In the moonlight, they look like endless pits, lit with a searing intensity. Heero's mouth falls open with the movements of his hand, a murmur of pleasure low in his throat. Duo's heart is pounding, pulse fluttering rapidly in his throat as he lays exposed on the bed. He shifts impatiently, tidal waves of need swamping him with every passing moment.

"Please," Duo begs, and a nearly feral snarl rumbles out of Heero's chest.

Heero's hands drop to his hips, lifting them off of the bed, and he obediently spreads his knees, offering himself to the other man. The blunt pressure shoves at his opening, and his eyes widen as he realizes that Heero has no intention of readying him. Still, he reminds himself, he asked for this. He grits his teeth as the force intensifies, his unprepared muscles protesting the invasion of hard flesh into his body. He gasps at the unrelenting demand, the low burn, the tearing feeling, and his head thrashes as agony swamps him. Heero's hand fists him again and a howl erupts from his throat as, on the second stroke of those talented fingers, Heero sheaths himself completely.

Without a moment for adjustment, Heero begins rolling his hips, rocking himself in and out of Duo's body. Duo can feel the slickness around Heero's cock, knows that the lubricant is his own blood. The pain is almost overwhelming, but Heero's hand is centering him in the agonizing duality of the only forgiveness he knows how to accept. Each sinfully parallel blow from fingers and shaft bring Duo closer to the edge, every second of torment another face erased from his memory. His muscles are trembling beneath the onslaught, his body screaming for and drawing away from the oncoming storm of his climax. Heero's motions increase in speed, slamming into Duo's hips with bruising force. The bed is creaking beneath their exertions, sheets damp with blood.

Sweat beads on his body, moans growing suspiciously closer to screams. He is meeting Heero thrust for thrust, part and parcel of his own destruction. He can feel himself being shredded with every plunge, can taste the blood on the air like pennies on his tongue. His eyes fly open and latch onto Heero's face, find the other man's features grown tense with pleasure. He is losing himself in Duo, eyebrows drawn down in concentration, irises completely wiped out. His hand tightens around Duo's dick, and Duo's head slams back against the bed. His head ricochets off the headboard, and it is the sudden burst of menace against his skull that tips him over the edge. His back arches painfully, hands ripping through the fragile hotel sheets, and his throat tears on an unholy howl. Tears streak down his face as the peak ruptures his mind, and he fights for consciousness in the wake of the overwhelming sensation.

The burst of heat spurs Heero over the edge as well, and he stills as he empties himself into Duo's prone form. His teeth are bared in a satisfied grimace as he rocks ever so slightly, rubbing out the last of his climax. Duo shudders with the last shocks of his pleasure and, as the endorphins begin to fade, settles into an unnatural stillness. His vision is edged in darkness, head throbbing from the intensity of the experience. He turns his face away as Heero pulls out of his body, dropping his hips to the sheets, instantly removing himself from the stained surface. Duo sits up slowly, shame creeping up into consciousness as he struggles to the edge of the mattress. Heero disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and Duo finds his clothing in the beam of light that creeps out from the doorframe. The stiffness is already settling into his bones, blood drying sticky and sickening on his thighs. His own seed lingers on his shaft and belly, cloying and damp as his body chills. Still, he can feel the sated languor of orgasm calming him, the lingering pain silencing the demons. He dons his clothing like armor, fingers trembling as he fights to button his pants, to buckle his belt. He is shrugging into his coat when Heero steps back into the room, leaving the bathroom door ajar.

The light floods the room, revealing Heero's impossibly composed face. He looks nothing like the man who was just lost in pleasure, lost in Duo's body. In fact, he wears his face like a death mask, utterly apathetic in the presence of someone who he just fucked. Duo shuffles his feet, knowing himself to be considerably more affected by their encounter. He already feels the restlessness, the irresistible urge to run from any reminder of his flaws.

"I have to go. But maybe if you're in the area again…" Duo trails off, voice quiet.

Heero stares at him, implacable, unimpressed. Duo shifts uneasily beneath the gaze, glancing longingly at the door.

"I travel," Heero replies dismissively. "But if I am here again, you were sufficient for my needs."

Duo rocks back on his heels, stung. He wasn't expecting an emotional connection from a quick fuck at a bar, but Heero's words seem callous and unnecessary. Despite the fact that Duo used Heero to sate his desperate masochism, he wasn't expecting such an abject rejection.

"Yeah, I travel too. I'm a bit of a wanderer. Never in one place too long. Reckon I won't see you again." Duo bites off the sentences, fighting down the shame, choking down the nausea that's rising in his stomach. He hates this familiar sensation, the sickness of being used, of failing to control himself again.

Heero flicks a card at him, and Duo catches it out of impulse. A string of numbers cross the surface, and Duo raises an inquiring brow at Heero, whose expression never changes.

"You suit my needs. That's not easy to find. Contact me."

With that, Heero turns neatly on his heel and strides from the room. Duo stands in the center of the room, hands falling slowly to his sides, head bowed in shame and misery. He can feel the heavy eyes of his ghosts, disappointment palpable in their empty gazes. He turns, abruptly, and slams his fist into the wall. The plaster and his knuckles crack under the force of the blow, crumbles of white and streaks of red trickling down the wall. His throat closes on a helpless scream as he collapses to the carpet, sobs wracking his body. Curling around his bleeding hand, he bows his head against the wall. It's never enough. He chokes back another shriek and jabs his other hand into the wall, pounding at the blank surface until he hears a crack in his knuckles, until the plaster is dark with his blood. It's still not enough, and the tears that glitter on his cheeks are nothing compared to the aching void of his soul.