Notes: Woot! Two updates on the same day! And thus continues the rewrite of As the Rush Comes. This one will probably be the last update for the next two weeks, as I'm trying to get everything caught up. But don't worry! I have another chapter of this one written, half a chapter of Drift on Numbered Days written, and Fall Off the Earth completed plotted out. From this point on, everything should be updating at least once a month.
Warnings: Major Warnings for this Chapter! There is the threat of sexual assault in this chapter. But don't worry! He gets his. Which leads to the next warning: Torture scene!
They were close to a stopping point. Duo's hand was still tight in Trowa's hair, stroking it gently as his lover slept. Trowa's breath on his thigh was warm, the weight of his head a solid reminder that he was there, that they were there. Together. Even if "there" was Russia.
Duo brushed back his mate's bangs, stroking a finger down his cheek. It had been more than a year. And he still woke up at night, turning his head on the pillow to press his face against whatever part of Trowa was closest, inhaling. He'd lie like that, eyes closed, until, lulled by the soft snore of his lover, he slept.
The car jerked, and Duo cursed as it fishtailed. Trowa was awake and alert in an instant, and Duo reached out, resting a hand on his thigh as he pulled the car over.
"Tire blew. No big deal," Duo slipped out of the car. There was no real cover. Just some trees, and a ditch along the side of the road. But it was dark. That would have to be enough. Trowa was by his side immediately, gun drawn.
"Cover me. I can change it faster," Trowa was tense. Duo nodded, pulling his gun from the holster at his back, eyes sweeping along the road. With a curse, Trowa drew Duo back against the car.
"There are nails in it. Lots of them," he growled, scanning the road. There were lights. "Get in the ditch. If it's help, great. If not, run."
"What? No, Trowa—".
"You're faster," Trowa cut Duo off, glaring at him. He looked down in to angry violet eyes.
"I'm not leaving you," Duo growled.
"Do not fight me on this."
"Nashi-" Duo growled deeper, eyes darkening. Trowa pushed him towards the ditch, growling back.
"There's no time.. Get in the fucking ditch," he turned away, grinning at the clod of earth that hit him in the back of the head.
"Don't you fucking leave me, you asshole," Duo snarled, ducking down in to the cover of the ditch, listening as a car approached..
Trowa leaned against the side of the car, green eyes dark, muscles lax. The van's stopped. It's doors opene, and a group of four men stepping out. He knew his mate well enough to know Duo wasn't running. He was going to have to keep their attention on himself. It would only be over his corpse that Duo would be captured.
"Nanashi? Alone? Where is that beautiful bitch of yours?" the man sneered, gun trained on his forehead. Trowa kept his face blank, apologizing to his lover in his head. If Duo could hear this, he was already seething.
"He left me for some Spanish guy. I'm pretty torn up about it," he kept his voice casual, eyes darting over the men. They were all armed, guns pointed at him. He would have to go with them. Trowa held back a growl as they laughed. "Why don't you take me to Nikolai? I'll assume that's why I'm not dead."
The man in charge laughed, waving his men forward. One of them grabbed Trowa's arm. Immediately, a quick succession of shots rang out, two of the men dropping to the ground. Trowa growled, grabbing the gun of the leader and shoving it back and in to his face. Wresting it from his grip, he shot the man. Trowa looked up to find Duo standing by his side.
"Damn it, Shinigami," Trowa growled, grabbing the front of his lover's shirt and glaring at him, eyes flashing dark. Shinigami growled back.
"You asshole," he hissed, face pale, eyes dark and sparking with anger. There were lights coming up the road.
"Run."
"No," Duo growled, barring his teeth. Grabbing on to Duo's shirt, Trowa kissed him, lips bruising, then shoved him away.
"You know I can't keep up. I'll draw them off. Now run!"
"You better fucking find me, you asshole," Shinigami snarled, kissing him and taking off towards the trees. Trowa watched him, then turned to face the approaching vehicle, his heart hammering. Duo-Shinigami-would be okay.
There were five of them this time, and the leader cursed at the bodies littering the road. The men moved quickly, shoving the bodies in the empty car. One of the men climbed in, driving it on as the others grabbed Trowa.
"You did this alone," the leader's voice was tinged with suspicion. Trowa nodded, and the man snorted. "Get him in the van. If Shinigami was here, he's gone now."
The men forced him in to the van and sliding in on either side of him. One of the men turned his face, looking at him with open hunger.
"He's pretty. Maybe we should have some fun before we hand him over to Nikolai," he licked his lips, eyes roaming over Trowa's face and body. Trowa stared coldly at him, face blank. The driver snorted.
"Just knock him out, Peter. Nikolai wants him alive," the driver gave him an ugly grin in the review mirror, and the man on the other side of him brought his gun down on the back of his head. He gave a grunt, falling forward in to Peter's lap.
Trowa kept his eyes shut, breathing shallow. Duo was fast. And a master of stealth. He wasn't going to get caught. He'd be fine. Trowa knew he'd be dealing with his mate's anger later. The thought warmed him. He knew the anger for what it was: worry. Attachment. Even after a year together, Duo still feared waking up in an empty bed.
Around him, the men were talking.
"It would not take long. An hour, two hours, tops. We all get a go," Peter was talking. Trowa opened his mouth slightly, sending a warm breath over his crotch. The man in the passenger seat spoke up.
"Nikolai won't care. And it will make him more likely to talk, if he's already a little broken," the passenger spoke up. The driver snorted, shaking his head as he pulled over.
"One hour. One. So hurry," he growled, watching as Peter dragged Trowa out of the car, slamming him against the side of the van. Trowa kept his body limp, waiting while the Peter pulled his pants down, grabbing his hips. The feeling of steel against the base of his cock made Peter freeze.
"Pretend you are fucking me, or I cut your cock off," Trowa hissed through clenched teeth. Peter swallowed, hips beginning to move steadily.
"Is anyone left in the van?" Trowa's received a grunt as an answer. It was probably the driver. He lowered his voiced further.
"You're going to bend me over, slowly, so I can reach your gun," he ground out. The man bent them, and Trowa reached out, grabbing the gun and shoving Peter back, bringing the butt down on his head. The two other men made sounds of surprise, turning from where they were standing behind the van, and Trowa shot them quickly, years of training allowing him to deliver quick shots to the forehead. Behind him, Peter was groaning, holding his head. Trowa pulled him up by his hair, growling in to his face and setting the gun under his chin. He made a perfect shield. Trowa shot the driver as soon as he rounded the corner, then brought the gun down hard on Peter's head, knocking him out. Quickly unlacing the captive's boots, Trowa used the shoelaces to bind his wrists. He tossed Peter in the van, then climbed in himself, turning it around.
He had no idea where Duo was. It was night, and Russia was cold. He growled. If anyone touched his mate—he shook himself. Duo, with or without Shinigami, could take care of himself. His lover would be fine. His mate would be fine. Trowa smirked, shooting the bound man a glance in the review mirror. And he had a present waiting as an apology.
Duo watched the road carefully, sticking to the tree line. Trowa would be back. Duo had to trust him. They were partners. Lovers. Mates. Trowa wasn't going to abandon him. Trowa loved him. Trowa let himself be kidnapped. Duo took a deep breath. Right now, he needed to focus on shelter.
It was dark, and cold. He was wearing a coat, but it wasn't thick enough to keep out the seeping chill. They'd been in the city, and together, and Duo had been counting on Trowa's steady heat to keep him warm. Out here, with the wind whipping his hair and tugging at his clothing, it was freezing.
There were lights on he road. The car moved slowly, and he made his way in to the ditch, muscles tense. Duo cursed, tightening the grip on his car. It was the car that had left, before, with Trowa. Growling, he raised up slightly, taking aim.
"If you shoot me, you'll have to find a new lover!" a familiar voice called out. Duo's heart jumped. Trowa. With a happy shout, he scrambled out of the ditch, heading for the now stopped car. Trowa threw the door open, pulling his lover tightly against his chest and pressing his face in his hair, inhaling deeply. Nuzzling his chest, Duo wrapped his arms around him. Trowa pressed a kiss to the top of his head and drew back.
"Get in the van. Backseat. There's a present for you," he grinned, watching his mate's face light with curiosity. Duo opened the back passenger door and climbed in, eyeing the man on the seat.
"Baby, doesn't he seem a bit old?" Duo gnawed on his lip. The man wasn't very attractive, either. Trowa laughed.
"He's not that kind of present," he gave his lover a feral grin. "He tried to assault me. I thought you might want to talk to him."
"Oh," Duo growled, eyes going flat and dark. "Thank you, Nashi. I'll make him cry for you."
It was late when they reached Moscow. Trowa drove them to a warehouse outside of town. The place was empty and musty. While he wiped the car clean, Shinigami dragged his present out, suspending him against the wall by his wrists and drawing his knife. And then he waited. Nanashi loved watching him work.
Car clean, his mate drew up a chair and sat, watching eagerly. Shinigami was ruthless and precise. Blood thrumming with pride and desire, Nanashi leaned back, dark eyes glued on his partner. Shinigami blew his mate a kiss, then jolted his prey away with a slap.
"Wha–" the man cut off, flinching as Shinigami leaned in, stroking his cheek with a knife.
"Hush. I'm in charge," he crooned. The man paled and stammered as he approached. Shinigami pressed their cheeks together, pointing to Nanashi with the switchblade.
"He? Is mine. You don't touch him," he turned, slashing at his face with the knife and leaving a thin cut. His toy cried out, drawing a chuckle from Nanashi.
"Fuck, I love you like this," he whispered, readjusting his pants. Shinigami smirked, blade running over the man's throat.
"Now, you have a choice," he teased the blade down Peter's chest, popping a few buttons off his shirt. "You can lose your balls. Or your life."
"Which," the man swallowed, trembling, "which is which?"
"If you don't hurry, he'll take both," Nanashi offered from his chair, eyes intent. "He's not patient."
"Wha—What do you want?" the man whimpered, then cried out as Shinigami drew the knife down his chest, leaving a deep red line.
"Where is Nikolai?" Shinigami cut another line over his chest. The man stammered an address wildly, eyes bulging.
"Very good," Shinigami stroked his cheek with the knife. "Now. Why does he want us?"
"He's trying to—clean house," Peter tried to move away from the cold metal. Snarling, Shinigami grabbed his hair, yanking his head back and pushing the point of the knife against his jugular.
"What does that mean?" he leaned in, their faces inches apart.
"He—wants you out of Russia!" the man sobbed, cringing and closing his eyes. The knife pressed tighter against his turned, and smiled at his mate.
"Do we need anything else?" he grinned, eyes dark and wild, as Nanashi shook his head.
"Finish playing with your toy, love." Shinigami turned back to their captive.
"You didn't really want to live without your balls, did you?" Shinigami tiled his head. He stabbed him quickly, twisting the knife. Peter slumped. Using the dead man's shirt, Shinigami wiped the knife clean, then tossed it on the ground.
"Love watching you work," Nanashi moaned as his lover straddled him. Shinigami yanking his head back by his hair and biting his throat. With his arms wrapped around his lover's neck, he began grinding his hips up, moaning louder at the lips at teeth moving over his neck.
"Let's get back to the hotel," Shinigami dragged his tongue along Nanashi's pulse, grinding back against him. His lover moaned in response, picking him up and lapping at his lower lip, green eyes hot and dark.
"Going to fuck me?" he purred, setting the braided man down on his feet. Shinigami grabbed his ass and growled, pulling their hips tight together.
"Through the floor," he promised, licking Nanashi's ear.