Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters – am just borrowing to torment for my amusement

Warnings: Swearing, yaoi, violence, general angst, possible OOCness (ages since I've written fanfiction so may be a little bit rusty) additional warning: m/m sexual relations

Pairings: 1x2 , 3x4 a hint of one sided 5+2

A/N: This is probably going to be the last chapter for a while of Domino as the fic will go on month long hiatus – I may end up posting another chapter if I get time but can't guarantee it so if one appears it's a bonus!

The song for this chapter is Many of Horrors by Biffy Clyro – I highly recommend listening to this song out of any of the songs used so far.

Chapter Eight

Broken Fairy Tale

We arrived back at the apartment, Heero's mood still as dark as when we'd left the Black Velvet. My mood was not improved as I was thinking he was doubting my ability. He didn't know what I'd done these past few years. He didn't know what I'd done and what I'd had to become. He stormed, yeah stormed, to the bathroom, I think purely to get away from me. Fine, I thought, as I melodramatically slammed the door behind me. I just stood there for a second and then thought, you know what, I'll just pack my shit up and go.

I grabbed my duffle, throwing in the leather jacket and emptying the backpack of guns and ammo into it and then slung the bag over my shoulder. He appeared again and stopped in his tracks seeing that I was just gonna runaway – his eyes narrowed and I felt the heat of his glare.

"We obviously can't work together. I'm gonna bail."

"Duo, don't."

"Jesus, you can't tell me what to do. You can't order me around. This is my job and fuck it, I'm better than you at this."

He approached me and I backed away from him, I'd already experience enough displays of Yuy strength and anger for one day.

"All you do is run away. It's all your good at," he said, his voice completely monotone.

That's when I punched him, hard, a build-up of everything I guess. His head snapped to the side from the impact, his eyes looked down at the floor and he slowly moved a hand to where my fist had landed on his cheek. I knew what was gonna happen next, I'm not stupid, I fucking knew he would punch back and it would be harder than any punch I could throw. I never would deny the fact he was stronger than I was. His training had been intense, mine was all life experience. I was not built like he was and I knew it would hurt. I braced myself a little but couldn't really do anything about it.

His fist landed on my jaw and the power made me stagger backwards, my back hitting the door behind me. I tasted blood, the metallic coppery taste filling my mouth. We'd done this before when we were young and stupid and I suppose we should be older and wiser now. But fuck it, it was good to feel this, this anger, it was like I could finally let myself feel something that wasn't hidden by identities and undercover ops.

I moved to punch him again but his reflexes were quicker than mine and his hands stopped me, his vice like fingers on my wrists as he pushed me back towards the door again, restraining me pretty damn effectively. His body was close, stopping me from making a run. I had nowhere to go. I struggled trying to free myself, trying to get some purchase to kick out but then our eyes met. I had a split second to think, oh shit before his lips met mine.

It was rough, his lips demanding, our teeth meeting, the taste of blood as he probed my mouth. Fuck, it had been so long since I'd been kissed like that. I didn't need to give him any invitation as he pushed my body against the door, his hands still around my wrists. His body was flush against mine, the heat of it seemed to radiate over me and I wanted my hands free but he held on tight. There would be bruises, that much I knew, but fuck it, that was us all over. It was all about violence and frantic moments.

I moaned into his mouth as he forced his left leg between mine, letting me feel an obvious hardness against my thigh and letting him feel my own, I moved my hips against his, causing friction only made more torturous by the amount of denim between our bodies. Heero must have decided he wanted to touch as his hands left my wrists, his hand tracing over my sides as his tongue continued to fight a battle for dominance with mine. His calloused fingers moved over my abs and traced the scar that marred my flesh. For a second, his lips left mine, his face was slightly flush and his eyes heavy lidded. I knew I was breathing heavily as I felt the blood rushing away from my head to other places.

"New wound," I said. "Got a load more scars since the war."

His lips crashed back into mine and I grabbed the back of his head, threading my hand through his hair, my other hand tracing the skin of his back underneath his shirt, feeling the hundreds of small cuts and lines that made his body. The guy had fucking self-destructed. There was a lot of scar tissue. I moved my hand down to his ass, groping him through the denim being that the jeans were far too skinny to do anything else. I could feel a slight smirk cross his lips into our kiss and my eyes flipped open.

His hands were busy down my sides but then suddenly they were at the waistband of my jeans and he was unbuttoning them. I raised my hands to his chest and pushed away from the kiss, he looked at me in a way that was utterly adorably confused. He didn't know why the fuck I was stopping.

"Fuck, you sure you wanna do this?"

It wasn't so much a question to him but to both of us. Sex complicates shit. It always does. As much as I wanted fuck buddies, I had feelings for him and that was bad. And I couldn't think straight since he took that opportunity to kiss my neck and grab for my hand which he placed over obvious erection in his jeans.

"Does that answer your question?"

I grabbed the back of his head, stopping him from the teasing kisses on my neck and looked him dead in the eye.

"Guess so," I said, a smirk on my lips.

I let him direct me towards the bed, he was the only guy I'd ever bottomed for and the only person I'd ever let dominate me. I knew, deep down, despite all the violence and aggression between us, he wouldn't actually hurt me and he cared in his own dumb way. It also felt good to surrender to someone, to not have to fight and think or do anything. I was in his hands. I didn't want to fight.

I managed to kick off my boots with only briefly leaving his lips to deal with the laces, his trainers were dealt with and then I shrugged off my hooded sweatshirt. I put my fingers underneath his checked shirt as we stepped in unison towards the unmade bed, our lips and tongues frantic, our bodies close. I kinda felt like he was trying to devour me which sounded a weird term in my head but his mouth and tongue were so insistent, his hands touching me, holding me, feeling me so intensely that it felt like that. It felt like he wanted me so badly that my mind was blown and I just was kinda going along with it. Then I remembered, he'd thought I was dead so having me alive, my flesh underneath his hands and my tongue in his mouth was a bit of a mindfuck. I'd believed he was alive at least, though off being an asshole that didn't give a shit about me.

I broke the kiss to remove my t-shirt and threw it down to the floor, he followed my lead and I gazed at his chest, the skin tanned, the muscles taut, the scars criss-crossing. I'd forgotten how goddamn… breath taking he was. His eyes were scanning me with a laser beam look, taking in my body, then my arm. His hand went to the angel wings that spread across my arm and shoulders, running his fingers along the ink, his eyes softened, he licked his lips in a natural but unbelievably sexy way. I couldn't stand it anymore, I reached for him and started to undo the buttons of his jeans, lowering the zipper carefully.

My lips were at his ear, I nibbled at the lobe a second and I whispered as my hands touched him through his boxers, getting a low gasp for my effort. "See, I never hated you."

"I know," he said.

He pushed me back onto the bed, his body on top of mine as I pushed my hands into his jeans and helped him wriggle out, pushing them down with his boxers meaning he was naked but I was still unfortunately clothed. He returned the favour, leaving us both naked, panting and impatient. This wasn't going to be gentle but it didn't matter. I'd take the bruises and the soreness to be this close to him, it had been far too long.

It became kinda awkward as I felt I needed to ask about whether we needed protection – it came with the Preventer package to have medicals and blood tests were included with that. I knew I was clean since my last one prior to the last undercover and having not had sex since that, like I said long time. But it nearly killed off some of the passion by admitting that I had a sexual history now that I hadn't had during the war. It hadn't mattered then being as we were exclusive and never slept with anyone else. We were each other's firsts which seemed kinda pathetic but now I had to admit that I'd had other partners and needed to ask him.

"I'm clean," he said and that was all I needed from him. I trusted him – plus I didn't have any condoms and was not sure if he did. I had no patience to go to a store. Probably should've had the awkward conversation before we got to this point. Fuck it, really, I so didn't care right now.

"Me too… just needed to check."

It maybe helped a little as it slowed us down for a second, enough for Heero to find something to use as lube and prep me a little rather than just go for it. It was a long time for me and he had always been a little bit rough with me, knowing I was strong enough to take it, to deal with the way his hands held on too tight, the way he bit down a little too hard, rough was fine with me. It made it less emotional, it made it seem like fucking which I could handle. If he just started being gentle, if he gazed into my eyes and slowly moved, I don't think I could do it – making love was for other people. Not us.

From the franticness, it all started to go way too slow, as he tried to prep me. My body was demanding more – but he was trying not to hurt me which I could see was costing him all the goddamn restraint he had. He finished prepping me, his fingers then lubing himself up before starting to push into me gently which was driving me a little insane.

"Heero…"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Fuck it…"

He seemed to be feeling some of my impatience as he pushed into me, filling me, causing me to gasp and try to get my body to adjust to the intrusion. He stayed there completely still for what seeemed like forever but I could hear how ragged his breathing was, I looked up at him, that perfect body, those blue eyes looking at me with a kinda reverence. I decided to wrap my legs around his waist, forcing him closer, which made him moan, the moving of my position creating a friction that suggested the pleasure that was about to, eh, come.

"Duo…"

His voice was deep and needy. He wanted permission to move, wanted to know if I was ready and ready to be pounded to the mattress. I flexed my hips a little causing him to grunt.

"Fuck me."

It was all he needed. He gripped my hips tightly and his cock almost left my body entirely before thrusting deep and hard back into me. It proved his intentions straight away. This wasn't romantic. And sure as hell, it wasn't going to be gentle. He thrust, again and again, setting a fast rhythm. I responded, using my position to meet his thrusts, drawing him in deeper, knowing that this was gonna be over quick. I grabbed for his shoulders, my fingers holding on tightly as his thrusts starting hitting that spot and I could feel myself losing it, he was aware how close we were, his hand moving from the bed to pump me in the same frantic rhythm as his body, I arched my back as he did - the pleasure overload stopping me from thinking anything. Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

I could tell when he was close, his eyes fluttering at each thrust, he made this soft sound under his breath, a quiet "yes" that told me everything. He pumped me a few more times letting me find my release first, I closed my eyes letting the sensation ride over me, and I think I probably murmured his name. He followed me, a few hard thrusts and he came, a low moan in the back of his throat as he did. I opened my eyes again, my breathing erratic and looked at him. He looked fucking perfect, tousled hair, sweaty, covered in my bodily fluids, breathing deeply. Fuck.

I unwrapped my legs from his toned waist, earning a moan from him and he lowered his body onto mine, his lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss. Heero broke off the kiss and he reached to touch my face, his hand ghosting where he'd punched me before. He didn't say sorry. Shit, I didn't want him to. For a second it felt like nothing had happened between us. It was like we were fifteen and it was fucking around, our breathing returning to normal, our bodies sticky but it wasn't. I looked away from him not being able to deal with the way he looked at me.

He responded by rolling off me and outta me, lying alongside me as I stared for a second at the ceiling. The smoke stains of the previous tenants had made interesting patterns. It could be like a Rorschach pattern but all I saw were the stains. I moved feeling his eyes all over me as I walked to find where my boxers and t shirt landed, grabbed them and headed over to the bathroom without a word. I closed the door which signalled something and I started running the water to clean up.

I looked in the mirror to see the bruise already starting to develop on my face and feeling like I did the first time. Thinking I was making the same fucking mistake. I must've zoned out a little as I heard a knock on the door – a quiet rapping of knuckles. He didn't need to knock being that the door didn't lock and I was in his fucking apartment but he still did.

"Duo?" I heard the way his voice sounded. Not monotone which was always an improvement. He probably thought he'd hurt me or something.

I opened the door to see him wearing shorts but no shirt, his arms across his chest and looking ever so confused. His feeling and emotions were difficult for other people to see - he didn't wear his emotions on his sleeve but I could tell things. The way he stood, the small quirk of his lips, the way his eyes looked. It was all small but I got it. He was confused. He didn't know what I was doing. He didn't understand. To him it probably seemed like I bolted because something was wrong.

"I'm fine."

He looked over to my face, seeing where the bruise would develop from the punch, but with a bit of pride I could see where his would appear. Yeah, I was physically fine but my mind was fucked.

"I think I should go," I said, my eyes darting to see where my clothes had ended up in the heat of the moment.

Heero moved so that he was blocking my escape, his body, that toned and gorgeous body, creating a barrier between me and freedom.

"No."

"No? Jesus, 'Ro, you can't tell me what to do just because we fucked."

I tried to dart past him but he was being unrelenting, not moving and he was reaching out to stop me. I jerked backwards knowing that if we had skin on skin contact again my resolve would just, you know, disappear.

"I think it does."

"You're shitting me? Seriously, you think that what we just did justifies you saying what I should do?"

I was kinda amazed. Sex was sex, even with him, it didn't mean candles and roses and commitment and love. Or that's what I was trying to keep hold of. Fuck buddies. Just like it was – it doesn't mean anything. I maybe didn't like lying to other people but I was so damn good at lying to myself. I knew my heart was beating out of chest, that my hands were clenched at my sides to stop reaching out and touching him. I knew I wanted more but I couldn't do it. Couldn't be hurt again.

That's when he reached out, his hand forcing my chin up so that I looked straight into his eyes – it was a tactic that was underhand. I couldn't pretend to him when he made me look into those blue eyes, it kinda melted my resistance and I felt my body relax a little.

"Can you shut up for one minute?"

I blinked in response and now I was the one who was damn confused. If we were gonna have a talk about "feelings" I was gonna throw up. I was so not ready for it.

"Duo… it's not all about you and it never has been."

I fucking knew that it wasn't all about me but I was keeping my mouth shut like a good boy.

"Stop pushing me away."

"Huh?"

"Stop pushing me away," he repeated. "It won't work."

"It worked with Quatre."

"It didn't. The whole goddamn L2 Project is for you."

Words kinda failed me. A rare occurrence but it could happen. My mouth opened but nothing came out, I was full on gaping, catching flies but nothing came to my head. Thoughts ran around my head, chasing each other as all the dots connected together and I figured now that everything that had happened between the five of us had all happened because I pushed a wounded Heero away. Ah fuck. Every moment in my life had put into motion this moment – from suggesting fucking to a fifteen year old confused solider, to meeting a blonde kid who I considered the brother I never had, to pushing away the sixteen year old slightly less confused solider and being a nasty piece of work to the best friend I ever had. If I'd just left Heero alone, if I'd just said it wasn't worth pursuing and left him for Relena we wouldn't be here. And it wouldn't be Q's life on the line.

His voice distracted the swirling thoughts. "He felt guilty. He never apologised and then you disappeared. They assumed you were dead."

"Pretty grand gesture for one street punk," I said heavily.

"Not so much for a best friend."

I leaned up to him to brush his lips, all gentle like, and he released my chin. "Shit, how do you know?"

"Trowa."

"You're in touch with Tro – isn't that against the rules, Mr Perfect?"

"I am a very competent hacker and Trowa wouldn't reveal anything."

I snorted. "Yeah because he doesn't fucking talk to anyone 'cept you and Q."

"I kept in touch as Quatre was trying to find you."

My eyes were on the floor, I couldn't stand the way he was looking at me – it made me feel so worthless. And my head was spinning – the L2 Project was all my fault. The terrorists trying to kill Quatre was all my fault. It was a damn good thing I was here to stop it being that it was all my fucking fault.

"Don't think like that."

I looked up. "You a mind reader, Yuy?"

He gently moved a stray bit of hair from around my face.

"Everything isn't your fault. You didn't make Quatre invest in the L2 Project."

"Yeah but if we all just stayed friends it would've been different."

"I disappeared first."

"Then I guess I blame you for everything," I said with a little grin. "But then if I'd not pushed you and said I hated you then maybe…."

"I still might have gone."

"Yeah, you weren't really in the best frame of mind, you know, you kinda scared me more when you were vulnerable than where you were trying to kill me. I just thought…you had the other's, Jesus, Relena was hanging round, they'd all be better at putting you back together than me."

"I didn't want her – I wanted you."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I needed to put my back together first. Still don't know if I'm there."

My hand was unconsciously rubbing at the ink on my left forearm, rubbing at the image on the inside of the arm, the two curved blades crossed – the weapons that Sandrock had been equipped with. Q put my back together once – after Heero's goddamn self-destruction, made me realise there was no point in following him into whichever circle of hell murderers end up in – understood the stupidity of getting involved during a war especially with a fellow Gundam pilot. It made my head hurt realising that all my actions were leading up to some kinda attempt on his life.

"You're quiet."

"I'm thinking."

"Stop thinking… come to bed."

He turned and walked away towards the bed, the sticky sheets now discarded and the blankets from the couch replacing it. My eyes traced his back, all those scars, old and new, I could see where my hands held on too tight as he'd pounded me to the mattress.

I leaned against the bathroom doorframe watching him go. Damn, it wasn't perfect, I wasn't sure if it was love or lust or something else but there was something that always brought us back together. Somehow we were connected. I had this weird feeling that we'd always end up like this – that it was me and him til the end of time.

"Round two, babe?"

He didn't need to say anything in response. Yeah, I still had no clue what the fuck we were doing but right now, it really didn't matter.