Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: It's Christmas Eve!!! This is my present to everyone out there who reads and reviews. I appreciate it oh so much:)
****
Be My Downfall
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
Heero stared up at the gilded molding on the ceiling over Relena's bed. He was frozen, numb with the intensity of self-hatred. What he had done could never be undone.
He had raped her.
It took every bit of his strength to look over at the woman lying next to him. She was in the exact same position she'd been in after he'd rolled off of her. Was she trembling? He couldn't tell, but it didn't seem unlikely. He'd taken her without thought, without care. He hadn't asked her what she wanted; he hadn't spent the time preparing her that he should have. He hadn't even slowed down upon encountering the resistance of her innocence.
"Shit," he muttered, closing his eyes under the pressure of a fresh wave of guilt. She'd cried out in pain because he'd been too far gone to stop. He'd tasted her tears, but still hadn't stopped. It hadn't lasted very long, certainly not long enough for her feel any pleasure. No wonder she was lying next to him, shell-shocked.
Heero rubbed his hands down his face. "Relena," he began. "I'm…"
"Is this how it always is?" she asked in a small voice.
"No." He swallowed back bile that threatened to rise in his throat. "It's supposed to be good."
"It wasn't?"
He sat up and looked down at her. "You couldn't have enjoyed that."
Her eyes filled with fresh tears. "It hurt, yes. A lot." Heero looked away. "But I thought maybe…maybe you at least liked it." When he looked back at her, she'd crossed one arm over her breasts, a shield against him. "I've heard it's supposed to get better. But if you didn't enjoy it, I suppose there won't be another time."
"You're acting like you'd want there to be another time." He shook his head. "Relena, I fucking raped you."
"No." She sat up to face him, letting her arm fall away from her breasts. "You were rough. And you hurt me. But that was going to happen anyway." She reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. "But you didn't rape me. I never said 'no.'"
"Semantics." Heero moved her hand away. "You never said 'yes' either."
"I could have stopped you."
He gave her a look. "How?"
Relena considered this. "Someone would have heard me screaming."
"Not if I'd covered your mouth."
"But you didn't!" She sighed, suddenly exasperated. "Are you trying to condemn yourself so you don't have to deal with the reality that we had sex?"
Heero rubbed his arm across his mouth as if trying to scrub away a bad taste in it. "You'd have every right to kill me after this."
"I guess dying would be easier for you than trying to work out whatever this is between us," she said. Twisting her fingers around the edge of the sheet, she drew it up towards her chest. "You've got a gun; take care of it yourself, if you want."
He watched her roll onto her side away from him, and when she did, the damning bloodstains on the sheets were exposed. Balling up his fist, he pounded the mattress, making her wince. After a moment, his fist relaxed. Relena had pulled herself into a protective fetal position, but all he could think about was the fluid curve of her hip and how soft her skin had felt underneath his bruising hands.
*Sick,* he thought. *I am a sick man.*
He was all set to stand up, put his clothes back on and leave when she spoke. "Why did you come here tonight, Heero?"
It was a question he'd asked himself over and over again, each time he'd thrust into her warmth. But he hadn't been able to come up with a reasonable answer for his own mind, and definitely not one that he could give her. What would he have said? 'I saw you masturbating and got sick of doing it myself'? No. But neither could he voice the very unreasonable explanation that was perhaps the truth.
'I needed you.'
"I don't know," he eventually replied.
"How long were you watching me…?" Although he couldn't see her face, he could tell that she was blushing.
"I'm always watching you, Relena."
"Do you like that better than being with me?" His silence prompted her to roll over again and prop herself up on her elbow to see him better. "You must, or else you wouldn't be fairly dying to get out of here."
If it would have helped, he would have liked to grab her shoulders and shake the truth into her. "I hurt you. I raped you. I don't deserve to be here."
Relena's eyes lowered, and she too noticed the stain her virginity had left behind. It wasn't much, just a smattering of rose, certainly not the scarlet mess her romance novels had led her to believe there would be after her first time. "You could leave and we could go back to playing your games. But I'm so tired of them, Heero. I'm so tired of the dance, the wondering, the ups and downs." She looked back at him; determination had replaced the lost look in her eyes. "You didn't do anything tonight that I haven't imagined you doing a hundred times in my dreams. All right, so those dreams had rose petals and champagne, but they were still just you wanting me." She paused to take a breath. "Do you want me, Heero?"
He couldn't lie; he was naked in front of her in more ways than just one. "Yes," he finally said. "I want you."
She dropped back onto the pillows. "You can have me. Maybe not forever…I need more to last forever. But for right now…" Relena's breath caught in the back of her throat. "I want you, too."
Heero looked up at the ceiling again. She was offering more than just her body; she was even offering more than her heart. She was handing him a chance at redemption. He could make up every wrong he'd committed since bursting in on her without warning. And maybe it wouldn't last forever.
But then, he thought as he covered her body with his and sought out her soft, pliant lips, maybe it would.
****
On the surface, the circus seemed to be the last place possible where someone could be bored. But bored was just how Trowa Barton felt. Bored and stifled and guilty over both.
The lights on L3-24378 were still off for the night, but he was wide awake. It was a rare night that he slept all the way through. Usually it was nightmares that kept him awake. That night, it was a decision he had to make.
He set aside his costume, having finished sewing a quick patch onto the oversized green pants. One of Catherine's knives hadn't quite hit its mark and had sliced a nice hole into the material.
Catherine. What would she say if he told her how he was feeling? After everything she'd done for him, giving him a home when he had absolutely nowhere else to go, getting him a job…he owed her more than just a quick goodbye. Especially now that they shared more than just a circus routine.
He stood up from the metal steps of Catherine's trailer and ducked back inside. She was asleep on the fold-out bed they currently shared; her auburn curls spread over her pillow. Trowa sighed. It was going to be messy. He was going to hurt her. And it couldn't be helped.
Because it wasn't a question of *if* he'd be leaving anymore. As of his late night communication with Preventer Headquarters, it was just a matter of when.
Catherine's eyes opened and she gave him a sleepy, sexy smile. "It's not light yet. Come back to bed."
Trowa remained standing. "It's time, Catherine."
She sat up on her elbows, the sheets dangerously close to slipping down and exposing her breasts. She didn't have to ask; somehow, she'd sensed it all. "They want you back." There was a pause. "When?"
"As soon as possible."
"I see." Despite her best efforts, her lower lip trembled. "You have to go, Trowa. You're not happy here anymore." He opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped him. "I see it in your eyes. There was life in them after the war, but it's faded again."
He hung his head. "You make me happy. You do."
"I know," she whispered. "But it's just not quite enough, is it?"
"You could come with me." There was no pleading in his tone, but she couldn't hate him for that. At least he was asking. "Quit the circus and go to Earth with me."
Catherine shook her head. "No. This colony is my home. The circus is my world. Can you understand that?"
"I can." He walked forward and kneeled down next to the bed. Taking one of her slender hands in his calloused one, he pressed it against the center of his bare chest. "You're the only person who's ever gotten in here."
Because he wanted to believe that so much, Catherine just nodded. "Come here." She held up the sheets; Trowa slid between them and pulled her body against his one last time.
When he made love to her, she found it very easy to forget Quatre Winner even existed.
He left after she fell back asleep, but took a moment to admire her smooth skin flushed with pleasure. It was exactly how he wanted to remember her if they never met again. With only a small bag of his things, Trowa left behind one part of his life to seek out another.
****
The euphoria of being with Heero only lasted two weeks.
He wasn't a tender, patient lover, but in the wake of his initial violence, he molded himself into a generous one. As for Relena, she caught on quick. By dawn's light, her eyes had been opened to the pleasure of the act and by the time the sun went down again, she'd already learned how to make him beg.
Her life went on with all the duties and responsibilities that came with her position, and true to his assignment, he stayed by her side as her bodyguard. She even had dinner with Quatre, in a strictly friends capacity, although not even her powers of negotiation had swayed Heero from joining them. Quatre didn't seem to mind, but he did mention halfway though the evening that his business dealings were heating up, and he had no idea when he'd be able to see her again. At this, Heero smiled.
But at night, their titles were stripped away and they only had to be Heero and Relena until the sun came up again.
She loved touching him. Undressing became pleasure in and of itself as she got to expose every last inch of his powerful body. His skin was only a few shades darker than her own milky-white complexion; he was tan silk over hard muscles. The contrast was stunning, though, when their limbs were entwined. Perhaps the most surprising thing she discovered was the tattoo just below his navel, a twisted mass of thorns. He swore it was Duo's fault for getting him drunk and dragging him into a tattoo parlor two years earlier. She'd merely laughed, kissed it, and kept going until he stopped talking altogether.
He returned the favor a hundred times over; she often got the feeling he was making a mental map of her body. Her ribs are ticklish, this spot makes her whimper when you run your tongue over it, and so on. She didn't mind when he'd lay her out over the sheets and start exploring again. It was easy to forget everything else when he'd find a new place that made her gasp. It was so easy to forget that it couldn't possibly last forever.
And it didn't.
Two weeks later, Relena woke up alone. Heero had warned her that he had an early meeting at Preventer Headquarters, so she wasn't alarmed. She could still see the imprint of his head on the other pillow; she spent the first few minutes of her day with her face buried in it, inhaling his scent.
She could have stayed there all day, but her duties wouldn't wait while she reveled in the aftermath of another amazing night with her lover. Relena smiled and hugged his pillow one last time. As far as she knew right then, there would be another night just like the last around the corner.
Allowing herself a final moment of laziness, she forced herself out of bed, donned a nightgown and robe, and rang down to the kitchen for tea and toast. She stood in front of her dresser's mirror, brushing out her hair while she waited.
The maid entered her room twenty minutes later and screamed. Relena's breakfast tray landed on the carpet in a terrific crash of glass and silver.
The President lay in a similar crumpled heap on the floor.
****
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: It's Christmas Eve!!! This is my present to everyone out there who reads and reviews. I appreciate it oh so much:)
****
Be My Downfall
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
Heero stared up at the gilded molding on the ceiling over Relena's bed. He was frozen, numb with the intensity of self-hatred. What he had done could never be undone.
He had raped her.
It took every bit of his strength to look over at the woman lying next to him. She was in the exact same position she'd been in after he'd rolled off of her. Was she trembling? He couldn't tell, but it didn't seem unlikely. He'd taken her without thought, without care. He hadn't asked her what she wanted; he hadn't spent the time preparing her that he should have. He hadn't even slowed down upon encountering the resistance of her innocence.
"Shit," he muttered, closing his eyes under the pressure of a fresh wave of guilt. She'd cried out in pain because he'd been too far gone to stop. He'd tasted her tears, but still hadn't stopped. It hadn't lasted very long, certainly not long enough for her feel any pleasure. No wonder she was lying next to him, shell-shocked.
Heero rubbed his hands down his face. "Relena," he began. "I'm…"
"Is this how it always is?" she asked in a small voice.
"No." He swallowed back bile that threatened to rise in his throat. "It's supposed to be good."
"It wasn't?"
He sat up and looked down at her. "You couldn't have enjoyed that."
Her eyes filled with fresh tears. "It hurt, yes. A lot." Heero looked away. "But I thought maybe…maybe you at least liked it." When he looked back at her, she'd crossed one arm over her breasts, a shield against him. "I've heard it's supposed to get better. But if you didn't enjoy it, I suppose there won't be another time."
"You're acting like you'd want there to be another time." He shook his head. "Relena, I fucking raped you."
"No." She sat up to face him, letting her arm fall away from her breasts. "You were rough. And you hurt me. But that was going to happen anyway." She reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. "But you didn't rape me. I never said 'no.'"
"Semantics." Heero moved her hand away. "You never said 'yes' either."
"I could have stopped you."
He gave her a look. "How?"
Relena considered this. "Someone would have heard me screaming."
"Not if I'd covered your mouth."
"But you didn't!" She sighed, suddenly exasperated. "Are you trying to condemn yourself so you don't have to deal with the reality that we had sex?"
Heero rubbed his arm across his mouth as if trying to scrub away a bad taste in it. "You'd have every right to kill me after this."
"I guess dying would be easier for you than trying to work out whatever this is between us," she said. Twisting her fingers around the edge of the sheet, she drew it up towards her chest. "You've got a gun; take care of it yourself, if you want."
He watched her roll onto her side away from him, and when she did, the damning bloodstains on the sheets were exposed. Balling up his fist, he pounded the mattress, making her wince. After a moment, his fist relaxed. Relena had pulled herself into a protective fetal position, but all he could think about was the fluid curve of her hip and how soft her skin had felt underneath his bruising hands.
*Sick,* he thought. *I am a sick man.*
He was all set to stand up, put his clothes back on and leave when she spoke. "Why did you come here tonight, Heero?"
It was a question he'd asked himself over and over again, each time he'd thrust into her warmth. But he hadn't been able to come up with a reasonable answer for his own mind, and definitely not one that he could give her. What would he have said? 'I saw you masturbating and got sick of doing it myself'? No. But neither could he voice the very unreasonable explanation that was perhaps the truth.
'I needed you.'
"I don't know," he eventually replied.
"How long were you watching me…?" Although he couldn't see her face, he could tell that she was blushing.
"I'm always watching you, Relena."
"Do you like that better than being with me?" His silence prompted her to roll over again and prop herself up on her elbow to see him better. "You must, or else you wouldn't be fairly dying to get out of here."
If it would have helped, he would have liked to grab her shoulders and shake the truth into her. "I hurt you. I raped you. I don't deserve to be here."
Relena's eyes lowered, and she too noticed the stain her virginity had left behind. It wasn't much, just a smattering of rose, certainly not the scarlet mess her romance novels had led her to believe there would be after her first time. "You could leave and we could go back to playing your games. But I'm so tired of them, Heero. I'm so tired of the dance, the wondering, the ups and downs." She looked back at him; determination had replaced the lost look in her eyes. "You didn't do anything tonight that I haven't imagined you doing a hundred times in my dreams. All right, so those dreams had rose petals and champagne, but they were still just you wanting me." She paused to take a breath. "Do you want me, Heero?"
He couldn't lie; he was naked in front of her in more ways than just one. "Yes," he finally said. "I want you."
She dropped back onto the pillows. "You can have me. Maybe not forever…I need more to last forever. But for right now…" Relena's breath caught in the back of her throat. "I want you, too."
Heero looked up at the ceiling again. She was offering more than just her body; she was even offering more than her heart. She was handing him a chance at redemption. He could make up every wrong he'd committed since bursting in on her without warning. And maybe it wouldn't last forever.
But then, he thought as he covered her body with his and sought out her soft, pliant lips, maybe it would.
****
On the surface, the circus seemed to be the last place possible where someone could be bored. But bored was just how Trowa Barton felt. Bored and stifled and guilty over both.
The lights on L3-24378 were still off for the night, but he was wide awake. It was a rare night that he slept all the way through. Usually it was nightmares that kept him awake. That night, it was a decision he had to make.
He set aside his costume, having finished sewing a quick patch onto the oversized green pants. One of Catherine's knives hadn't quite hit its mark and had sliced a nice hole into the material.
Catherine. What would she say if he told her how he was feeling? After everything she'd done for him, giving him a home when he had absolutely nowhere else to go, getting him a job…he owed her more than just a quick goodbye. Especially now that they shared more than just a circus routine.
He stood up from the metal steps of Catherine's trailer and ducked back inside. She was asleep on the fold-out bed they currently shared; her auburn curls spread over her pillow. Trowa sighed. It was going to be messy. He was going to hurt her. And it couldn't be helped.
Because it wasn't a question of *if* he'd be leaving anymore. As of his late night communication with Preventer Headquarters, it was just a matter of when.
Catherine's eyes opened and she gave him a sleepy, sexy smile. "It's not light yet. Come back to bed."
Trowa remained standing. "It's time, Catherine."
She sat up on her elbows, the sheets dangerously close to slipping down and exposing her breasts. She didn't have to ask; somehow, she'd sensed it all. "They want you back." There was a pause. "When?"
"As soon as possible."
"I see." Despite her best efforts, her lower lip trembled. "You have to go, Trowa. You're not happy here anymore." He opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped him. "I see it in your eyes. There was life in them after the war, but it's faded again."
He hung his head. "You make me happy. You do."
"I know," she whispered. "But it's just not quite enough, is it?"
"You could come with me." There was no pleading in his tone, but she couldn't hate him for that. At least he was asking. "Quit the circus and go to Earth with me."
Catherine shook her head. "No. This colony is my home. The circus is my world. Can you understand that?"
"I can." He walked forward and kneeled down next to the bed. Taking one of her slender hands in his calloused one, he pressed it against the center of his bare chest. "You're the only person who's ever gotten in here."
Because he wanted to believe that so much, Catherine just nodded. "Come here." She held up the sheets; Trowa slid between them and pulled her body against his one last time.
When he made love to her, she found it very easy to forget Quatre Winner even existed.
He left after she fell back asleep, but took a moment to admire her smooth skin flushed with pleasure. It was exactly how he wanted to remember her if they never met again. With only a small bag of his things, Trowa left behind one part of his life to seek out another.
****
The euphoria of being with Heero only lasted two weeks.
He wasn't a tender, patient lover, but in the wake of his initial violence, he molded himself into a generous one. As for Relena, she caught on quick. By dawn's light, her eyes had been opened to the pleasure of the act and by the time the sun went down again, she'd already learned how to make him beg.
Her life went on with all the duties and responsibilities that came with her position, and true to his assignment, he stayed by her side as her bodyguard. She even had dinner with Quatre, in a strictly friends capacity, although not even her powers of negotiation had swayed Heero from joining them. Quatre didn't seem to mind, but he did mention halfway though the evening that his business dealings were heating up, and he had no idea when he'd be able to see her again. At this, Heero smiled.
But at night, their titles were stripped away and they only had to be Heero and Relena until the sun came up again.
She loved touching him. Undressing became pleasure in and of itself as she got to expose every last inch of his powerful body. His skin was only a few shades darker than her own milky-white complexion; he was tan silk over hard muscles. The contrast was stunning, though, when their limbs were entwined. Perhaps the most surprising thing she discovered was the tattoo just below his navel, a twisted mass of thorns. He swore it was Duo's fault for getting him drunk and dragging him into a tattoo parlor two years earlier. She'd merely laughed, kissed it, and kept going until he stopped talking altogether.
He returned the favor a hundred times over; she often got the feeling he was making a mental map of her body. Her ribs are ticklish, this spot makes her whimper when you run your tongue over it, and so on. She didn't mind when he'd lay her out over the sheets and start exploring again. It was easy to forget everything else when he'd find a new place that made her gasp. It was so easy to forget that it couldn't possibly last forever.
And it didn't.
Two weeks later, Relena woke up alone. Heero had warned her that he had an early meeting at Preventer Headquarters, so she wasn't alarmed. She could still see the imprint of his head on the other pillow; she spent the first few minutes of her day with her face buried in it, inhaling his scent.
She could have stayed there all day, but her duties wouldn't wait while she reveled in the aftermath of another amazing night with her lover. Relena smiled and hugged his pillow one last time. As far as she knew right then, there would be another night just like the last around the corner.
Allowing herself a final moment of laziness, she forced herself out of bed, donned a nightgown and robe, and rang down to the kitchen for tea and toast. She stood in front of her dresser's mirror, brushing out her hair while she waited.
The maid entered her room twenty minutes later and screamed. Relena's breakfast tray landed on the carpet in a terrific crash of glass and silver.
The President lay in a similar crumpled heap on the floor.
****
To Be Continued