A/N: For Cylina Nightshade, who requested #4, "You know I love you, right? I have every intention of fucking you like I don't." I decided to go with 1x2x5
Warnings: angst, language, sex
Pairings: 1x2x5
I expected anger. Expected rage and the dark, deadly calm I associated with Shinigami out for vengeance
I was wrong.
Duo was silent, his jaw locked and his lips compressed so tightly they disappeared. But he wasn't calm. His entire body seemed to be vibrating, only just held in check.
I wondered why it was Trowa who told him, wondered who had thought that was a good idea.
"Howard's shuttle was ferrying cargo from a debris site back to M234 when a micro-meteorite punctured the hull."
No crew, no remains had been found. Of course. A vacuum breach meant they would have been sucked out into the cold of space, probably through a hole no larger than a hand. It wasn't something Trowa needed to say. Duo could picture it clearly.
"It was quick. He wasn't-"
Duo punched him, the blow staggering Trowa back a few steps, but he didn't go down, just wiped at the blood on his lips and stared back at Duo.
Now I knew why Trowa had been the one to tell him.
Duo threw himself on the bigger man, tackling him and lashing out with his fists and feet, Trowa blocking what he could but making no effort to fight back.
I stared, horrified and transfixed, for too long before I shook myself.
"Maxwell!"
He turned at the sound of my voice, at my disgust. His face twisted into an ugly, angry scowl, and he pushed away from Trowa's prone form, walked past me, past all of the onlookers, and left the building.
Security arrived, too late, with Une at their heels demanding to know what had happened.
"Duo and I were demonstrating a hand-to-hand combat maneuver for the new guy," Trowa said, nodding vaguely at the press of onlookers.
Une sneered at the weak excuse. I wondered how many times she had heard it before - dozens, at least from Trowa or Duo. Though, before, neither had looked like he had just barely survived a round of brass knuckle boxing.
She turned on me.
"Two weeks paid leave - and then he reports to my office," she informed me.
I nodded. I was sure she would have done that anyway, after the news about Hilde.
She left, and I walked Trowa down to the med bay.
"You shouldn't have said-"
"Yeah, I should have," he cut me off, grimacing as he raided the first-aid kit. "Unless you wanted him to attack you or Heero?" He arched an eyebrow in my direction, and then winced as blood trickled into his eye.
It was a fair point, and I hated that he was right.
I didn't want to be the one Duo did that to, and I didn't want to watch him pummel Heero either.
"Thank you," I said.
He shrugged, as if it was nothing, as if he probably wasn't going to have to get stitches for the cut on his cheek, at the very least. I felt a tug of guilt. I was fairly certain the cuts were as deep as they were because of Duo's ring.
"You should probably go find him, before he does something stupid," Trowa suggested.
I raised my eyebrows.
"Something else stupid," he amended, as he finally found the bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
I left him alone and went to find Duo.
I tried calling, on my way to the garage to collect my motorcycle, and I wasn't the least surprised that it went straight to voicemail.
Sighing, I dialed Heero's number. He might have already heard - I was constantly amazed by how fast gossip spread at the Preventers HQ - but if he hadn't, he needed to know.
The call cut off, abruptly, and a second later my phone buzzed with a text.
In a meeting.
I sighed and thought about the best way to word this. Bluntly, I decided.
Howard dead. Duo in bad shape.
I was on my bike, about to put on my helmet, when I got his response.
Keep me posted. Out of here in thirty.
I was a little irritated, but I knew that wasn't fair. It wasn't as if the world stopped just because we needed it to.
I decided to try home first, on the slim chance he had gone there instead of one of the dive bars he liked to lose himself at.
Ten minutes later, I saw his car parked in our driveway.
I pulled up to the side, irritated at being wrong so many times today, and stowed my helmet and gloves.
It felt silly to approach my own home with trepidation, but having just watched Duo beat Trowa, one of his closest friends, into a pulp, didn't exactly inspire confidence.
"Duo?"
The house was empty, the lights off, and I felt uneasy as I moved through the dark hallways.
"Duo?"
He was in the basement, in the small work area he had carved out for himself so that he could tinker with mechanical things, sitting on the rolling stool in front of his work table, and his head was pillowed on his arms, his shoulders shaking.
I walked over and hesitated, an arm's length away from him.
"Duo."
He stilled, his back shuddering as he drew in a deep breath, and then he lifted his head to look at me.
I'd never seen him cry before. After all that we had been through - after nearly dying together - I had never seen him cry.
I felt frozen in place, my natural inclination to leave, to walk away and pretend I had never seen him like this, warred with my need to touch him, to be the partner I had committed myself to becoming.
When I finally reached out, it was too late, the moment had passed, and he batted my hand away angrily.
I felt my eyes narrow in irritation. I did not like being dismissed, and maybe he didn't really care about that at the moment, but I did.
I reached out again, grabbing his shoulder and turning him to fully face me, and he shoved me back, rising from the stool and advancing on me until he had backed me against the tool chest on the opposite wall.
"Walk away," he warned, his eyes dangerous despite the swollen skin surrounding them, the smear of tears on his cheeks.
"No."
He lunged at the same time that I did, and we grappled, fighting for purchase, and I regretted ever becoming his sparring partner.
I managed to shove him backwards, and he tripped on the stool, nearly lost his balance, but then he managed to catch himself and he charged me, forced me against the work table in the center of the room, and he shoved my head down, hard, and I could feel a hex nut under my cheek.
I didn't know what to expect next - violence wasn't something we engaged in, not outside of training sessions, not outside of work.
But this… I knew, intellectually, that Duo would sooner cut off his own hand than strike me. But that didn't stop the thread of fear, of tension, that coiled deep in my belly.
He had me pinned, his hips holding me against the table, and his elbow across my spine keeping me bent over.
"Wufei."
His voice was rough, with tears and emotion, and I twisted my head around to look at him.
"You know I love you, right? I have every intention of fucking you like I don't."
He held my eyes, let me see the darkness in his own, the complete despair.
"Tell me to stop."
Instead, I stretched my arms out to grip the table, to brace myself.
His lips curled and he stepped back, giving me the chance to move even though I had made my decision clear.
He jerked my trousers down, not bothering to unfasten them, and I winced as the fabric made a ripping sound. The quartermaster wasn't going to be too happy with my request for another pair.
Duo gripped my ass, his fingers bruising in their strength, and he spit on me, a warm, wet glob of saliva sliding down the crack of my ass until he stopped its progress with his fingers.
He was rough, perfunctory, so very different from the Duo who had shared my bed for four years.
I was barely stretched when he shoved into me, and I winced but kept silent as he buried himself deep, his cock filling me in a single, impossible thrust of his hips that left up both breathless.
"I hurt you."
His voice was empty, broken, and that sound hurt me far more than any physical discomfort I felt.
"I'm fine," I bit out. It wasn't even a lie. Even when Duo was gentle, as he so often was, his cock was large enough that, unless he was being very careful, I ended up sore.
He started to pull out, but I shoved my ass backwards, impaling myself on him again, and I clenched my cheeks together, holding him in place while he groaned.
"Wufei. I-"
"I know you love me," I insisted, fucking myself on his motionless cock. "I know you do. Now fuck me like you need to."
I didn't curse often, and I knew that Duo loved hearing me say fuck in particular.
"Do it!" I bellowed when he refused to move.
My tone, the sudden volume, spurred him to action, and he gripped my hips in that same punishing hold again.
"You're so fucking bossy," he grunted, and I wondered how genuine his resentment was - how much of it was tied to this moment, this feeling, and how much of it was always there.
"Someone has to tell you what to do," I shot back.
"Fuck you," he snarled. The table screeched, shifted an inch on the concrete floor under the impact of Duo's thrusts into my body.
"I thought that's what you were trying to do."
He growled, the sound raw and primal, and one of his hands moved up to my neck, took hold of my hair and wrenched my head back at an uncomfortable angle.
"Duo."
We turned, Duo releasing his hold on my head, and saw Heero framed in the entrance to the room.
He was scowling, his eyes flickering between us, assessing the situation.
I felt the fingers of Duo's other hand, still holding me, spasm. And I knew he was on the verge of losing it, of breaking down entirely, and that was not something I could cope with.
"Will you tell him to just get on with it?" I hissed between my clenched teeth.
Heero arched an eyebrow in question.
"Maybe he needs some assistance," Heero decided, and pulled off his belt in a smooth gesture.
He approached the work bench, took my hands and wrapped the belt around them, pulling it through the latch when the leather was tight enough to dig into my skin.
"That's good," Duo breathed, and he sounded relieved.
Heero nodded.
"What else?" he asked.
"He keeps talking- keeps-"
"I think we all know the best way to shut Wufei up," Heero interrupted when Duo's voice faltered.
He shed his trousers and briefs before stepping close again. He reached out, grabbed my shoulders and hauled me further onto the table, until my cock was painfully trapped and I could no longer touch the floor with my toes.
My face, however, was just in front of Heero's groin, perfectly positioned to take his cock into my mouth and, without any urging, I did so.
He was soft, and I had to work to arouse him.
"Keep fucking him," Heero ordered Duo, and I couldn't help the small, belligerent voice in the back of my head that noted that Heero got to tell Duo what to do without Duo turning on him.
Duo moved again, and I could feel that he had gone a little soft, though with his cock it didn't matter - he still filled my rectum, still managed to leave me mewling like a pathetic, cock-hungry toy.
"Harder," Heero said, his voice idle, and he shifted, pushed his now-hard cock down my throat, and I gagged.
Heero ran his hands over my jaw, his thumb caressing my cheek in a silent apology.
But then Duo was fucking me in earnest, his flesh pounding into mine, and the momentum carried me forward, onto Heero's cock, and I was speared from both ends.
All I could do was focus on breathing, on keeping my body relaxed, while the two men used me.
"Harder," Heero said again, his voice merciless, and Duo followed the command, snapping his hips, rolling inside me, and I groaned. It felt good, felt so damn good, and I hated how much I was enjoying this, despite everything.
It wasn't like this, ever. Usually, Duo was between us, fucking me while Heero fucked him, or, occasionally, Heero would fuck him while he sucked me off. It was rare that Heero and I were connected, like this. Heero had only fucked me a few times, when Duo had been away, and as good as it had been, there was too much anger, too much between us, for it to be anything but a stone's throw away from violence.
It made sense, of course, that this was happening under Heero's direction, that he was channeling Duo's rage and guiding him.
"Harder," Heero said again, and I wasn't sure there was a harder - and if there was, I didn't think I could handle it.
Duo made a frustrated sound, a cry of rage and something that sounded like agony, and he came, spilling himself deep inside of me, and then he held himself still.
"Duo."
They were looking at each other, above me, and I could see from Heero's tense expression that Duo was not okay.
I used my bound hands to push Heero away, his cock falling from my mouth and trailing saliva, and then I gestured impatiently for Heero to release me.
He loosened the belt, but didn't remove it. Instead, he was moving around the table.
Duo stepped back, pulled out, and I felt a wet trail of come dribble down my thigh.
I struggled with the belt, but it wasn't until I heard Duo draw in a choking, sobbing breath that I turned to see Heero holding him.
They slid to the floor, Duo in Heero's lap, his fingers clutching Heero's dress shirt like it was an EVA tether, and I finally threw off the belt.
And then I stood there, useless and unnecessary, starting down at Heero as he offered Duo the comfort that I hadn't been able to.
Heero looked up at me, hesitated a moment, and then held up his right hand.
I took it, and he pulled me down beside them. Awkwardly, I wrapped my arms around Duo, folding him between our bodies, and his sobs rocked through all of us.
-o-