************************
      Duo's Pain
      Chapter One: Commoditization
      ************************

 'It's never me you're looking at.' Heero stared at Duo, eyes empty and glazed
 with pain. Duo's fist lashed out again, catching him under the chin, sending 
him crashing into the wall.
     
 'It's never me you see.' Duo caught him as he fell, kissing him roughly, twisting
 his nipples though the thin cotton tank with brutal hands. 
     
 "Who was that, Heero?" Duo breathed, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
 Heero sighed, back arching into the feel of Duo's erection pressing into his thigh. 
     
 "Who?" He asked, dazed with pleasure and pain. Duo slapped him again, 
eliciting a thin whine from the perfect soldier.
     
 "That bitch at the mall. Staring at your ass."

"I don't know." Heero protested, before Duo's lips covered his again, tongue 
plundering, teeth scraping, cock pressed urgently against his own.
      
"You'd better not. 'Cause it's my ass. You get me?" For emphasis, he ground his 
length against Heero's, reveling in the panted moan that caused.
     
 "H- Hai."
      
"I thought so." Duo pulled him from the wall and tossed him unresisting on the 
bed, falling on top of him to grind suggestively into his groin. He shoved that tank 
above Heero's head, leaving his arms tangled in fabric, his mouth wrapping 
around one erect nipple. His hands wandered down, tugging at spandex until the
 perfect soldier was bare. 

Duo pulled back to look at him, licking his lips unconsciously. Heero's head was 
thrown back, the combination of pleasure and pain stimulating him unmercifully; 
the arch of his vulnerable throat trembled with each gasping breath. Duo leaned
forward to bite the spot where neck met shoulder; Heero pressed against him, 
urging his teeth deeper, cock spasming against Duo's hip. Duo's head came up,
ignoring Heero's whine of protest; he snuffled down that perfect body, licking at a 
ridge of muscle here, a stinging cut there. 

Heero writhed under him, eyes nearly blind with lust. Duo paused at his groin,
teasingly, meeting Heero's blind eyes over the evidence of his lust. He moved
lower, searching for that puckered entrance to paradise. Heero's back arched as 
Duo's tongue penetrated him, a shout of surprise escaping his torn lips; he was 
panting heavily, the sensation of being skewered on that lithe muscle filling him 
with a rushing fear of losing control. 

Duo was so good to him. 

Duo came back up to kiss his lover, sharing the slightly bitter taste between them,
 moving his own erection to Heero's anus, paused just before the opening; Heero 
whined with frustration, bucking his hips impatiently against the head of Duo's cock. 
      

Duo smothered him with a kiss, and slammed in to the hilt. Heero screamed into
his throat as Duo rocked back out, leaning back to admire the look of pleasure/pain 
contorting Heero's lovely face. Heero gripped him from the   inside, a heated, silken 
cavern that was carressing his cock like a vise, each muscle milking him as he 
rammed in and out. Heero thrust up onto his length, his own cock dripping precum 
with each blow; he wrapped his legs around Duo's waist and strained against him,
 trying to get him in deeper, harder, faster.
     
He screamed, and Duo shoved one hand over his mouth, cursing as strong 
white teeth closed over his flesh. He thrust into that spot again, feeling Heero 
spasm underneath him, all the muscles in his body clenching at once  with 
each brush against his prostate. Duo pulled away, and Heero's head fell 
back against the pillow, too exhausted to strain further; the braided pilot 
grinned wickedly, and proceeded to thrust in a painfully slow rhythm. Each 
movement dragged against Heero's prostate, an agonising jolt of pleasure 
crackling through him, in and out. His head began to toss frantically, and his 
hand came up, creeping toward his own neglected cock. Duo grabbed his 
wrists, pinning the strung-out boy to the bed, teasing him with iron control.
     
 With a shout, Heero came, spurting into Duo's stomach, the muscles in his 
ass dancing wildly; this sent Duo over the edge, and he came as well, 
spending deep into Heero with a final thrust.
      
He fell onto his lover, breath coming harshly, eyes tightly closed. Heero
was very still, except for his inner muscles which were clenching and 
releasing the cock still inside of him rhythmically, trying to hold onto 
that sensation of being filled. 
     
 "Mine." Duo murmured sleepily into Heero's neck; Heero nodded, staring 
at the ceiling as Duo drifted into sleep, wondering if the pilot of Deathscythe 
would feel like going again before his next mission.



****
Heero staggered to the door of the safehouse, leaning heavily against the
 wood as he raised one hand to thump limply on the glassed-in panel; there 
was a dull chink, unheard by the sleeping pilots within. Heero groaned, blood 
trickling from beneath his elbow, clamped tightly to his side, holding in his life; 
with a burst of desperate strength, he crashed his fist into the glass, sending 
blood spurting from his hand, gashed to the elbow.
     
 Duo opened the door just as he fell; the braided pilot caught him, and eased
 him to the floor as he screamed for help.




******************************
 Duo's Pain 
Chapter Two: Epiphany
******************************
     
 'Is it me your looking at now?'
     
 "Dammit, Heero, what were you trying to do? Get yourself killed?" Duo applied
 the antiseptic with a bit more force than neccessary, grimacing as Heero 
sighed and leaned into the touch.
     
 'Who do you see?' 
     
 Heero was painfully erect, even though black ate at his vision and sucked at 
his mind; the pain felt good, but threatened to become too much even for him. 
      
"Heero, why do you do this to yourself?" Duo was . . . crying? But Duo liked to 
hurt him. Didn't he? Heero scowled, confused, unable to work out the difference 
between foreplay and real danger according to Duo; he closed his eyes, reveling 
in the wash of agony. It hurt; he felt the pain as he imagined others might, but
in him it was twisted into something else, something different. Whenever he
 felt pain he could close his eyes and see Dr. J leaning over him, a small, bitter
 smirk twisting his thin lips, his metallic hand coming up to ---
      
The memory always cut off there, washed out in the flush of pleasure that would 
spread over him; the perfect soldier enjoyed the pain, enjoyed having others use 
him, abuse him. 
     
 Only Duo knew. Duo and Dr. J, that ominous, insane figure who'd ruined their
 relationship before it even started. Heero sighed, looking up at his fretting lover,
 feeling the pleasurable slap and throb of hands on wounds; Duo was straddling 
him, and he pumped his hips, insistantly shoving his erection into the juncture
between his legs. Duo started, and leaned back, peering at him curiously as 
though from a great distance.
     
"This really turns you on, doesn't it." It wasn't a question; Heero sighed and nodded, 
stretching against the binding feel of tears and scrapes along his skin. "You really 
*are* fucked up."
      
"Duo." He breathed, wanting his lover to shut up and hurt him some more; and as 
good as the pain felt, the pleasure this boy could bring felt even better, and his hips 
thrust upward at the thought.
      
"One of these days--" Duo caught his mouth in a bruising kiss, nibbling at torn flesh, 
drawing the blood like wine.  "Soon." He breathed, moving to Heero's neck to leave 
his mark there, teeth piercing the tender flesh with ease. "You are going to tell me why 
you like pain." On the word 'pain' he drew back and struck Heero across the face, 
laughing at the deep, sensual moan the move provoked; Heero's hair was damp 
with sweat and stuck to his face and neck, and his breath came in great heaving 
gasps. He was utterly beautiful, and about to pass out, from pain and pleasure 
both.
     
 Duo took pity on him, placing one hand on his eager cock, the other worming 
between his buttocks to find the entrance there; he slipped in two fingers, startled 
at the ease with which he penetrated that tight opening. Heero was wide open, ready 
and whimpering for it, thrusting into Duo's palm with desperate urgency. 
      
The braided pilot slipped out his fingers, wincing at the moan that their removal 
caused, and stripped off his pants with one hand, the other still working at Heero's 
frantic erection; he'd been on the edge for a while, but still hadn't come, and Duo 
bit his lip, worried for his friend and lover.

"Duo." Heero gasped out, all the plea he could manage just then; his head was 
tossed back, neck open and vulnerable, corded with the effort of staying still. Duo 
soothed him with a kiss, drinking roughly from his mouth, plundering that cavern 
with his tongue, and forced his way inside.
      
Heero's body bucked wildly as Duo hit his prostate, injuries screaming as he 
screamed into Duo's open mouth; his inner muscles clamped down hard onto 
the braided pilot, not wanting him to move from there, ever.
     
 Duo grunted, needing to move as much as Heero needed him to stay; Heero 
brought up his legs to wrap them tightly around Duo's waist, blood from his 
gashed thigh trickling between them as he pressed Duo even closer, forcing 
his butt into Duo's groin, grinding it in little circles that  tickled his prostate 
relentlessly. He groaned loudly, and fell back, letting Duo move; Duo grunted 
as he felt himself released, and drove in further as Heero fell back. 
      
Cobalt eyes flicked open wildly, feeling the rhythm begin to grow with the pain
in his side and back, Duo pressed against him, in him, perfectly; Duo's maniacal 
grin flitted across his lips as he devoured Heero's nipples, gnawing on the 
helpless buds of flesh as he thrust into the helpless body. Heero's head was
tossing from side to side, and, as Duo came inside him,  scalding him, his body 
bucked to keep him in, his own cock spasming against that corded belly; he froze, 
eyes wide open, mouth gaping just a  bit with the need for air, all of him soft with 
astonished pleasure.
      
Duo fell, barely missing him to land with a spent grunt at his side; his hand trailed 
lazily over Heero's flat stomach, carressing his lax muscles.

"Why?" Duo breathed, blowing into his ear. Heero stirred, but didn't turn to look 
at him.
      
"Nani?"
      
"Why do you like pain?"
     
 "Training." He admitted softly, eyes fixed determinedly on the ceiling; Duo propped 
himself up on one elbow to look at his closed face, hoping to decipher the 
expressions there.
      
"Okay, I can see that sick fuck J doing something like that, but why? What good 
does it do if you seek your own destruction?"
      
"I don't fear death." His voice was like his usual monotone, but there was 
something there, something like a memory, something that sent shivers up
 Duo's naked spine.
      
"Neither do I, and I don't try to die, either. Wasn't there a better way?"
      
"Hn." I'm a soldier, I don't think. Duo sighed, recognizing the thought without
it having to be spoken. He nodded wearily.
      
"Okay, alright, I get it. You don't want to talk about it. But how can you keep 
fighting when all you want is to lose?"
     
 Heero looked at him for the first time, eyes sparking angrily.
     
 "I do not fail." His voice was deadly quiet; Duo nodded sincerly, but didn't 
back down.
      
"So, he replaced natural self-preservation with the need for success?" He 
asked, grinning wryly. Heero grunted, uncaring; he turned his eyes back 
to the ceiling, trying to decide if Duo was becoming a liability. Oh, but the 
pain . . . . He provided pain like no one else.

"Are you listening to me?!" He'd been talking; Heero grunted, displeased. 
     
 Duo slapped him, demanding his attention. "Heero!"
     
 Heero turned his dead eyes to his lover, freezing his raised hand with that 
look of empty despair. 
      
"I don't want to talk about it." He grated mechanically, and turned away again. 
     
 Duo sighed, defeated, and scrambled up to finish taking care of his  
wounds, the blood staining his sheets and leaking to the floor.

****
     
Duo staggered to the kitchen, hunger having forced him up at the ungodly 
hour of ten AM; he made a beeline for the fridge, leaning into its coolness 
with a sigh. He sorted though the food, piling a carton of orange juice and 
a bag of Lender's bagels in one hand. He turned around, humming happily, 
and froze.
      
Trowa, Wufei, and Quatre were arrayed before him, all determined and 
angry; it was Quatre who spoke, the little Arabian glaring from his position 
between his two lovers.
      
"Duo, we have to talk."
      
"Hehe, about what?" He smirked, and moved to set down the food, 
trying to avoid the inevitable.
      
"About Heero."



***************************
Duo's Pain 
Chapter 3: Ours Not to Reason Why, aka Intervention
***************************

They gathered around the kitchen table, Duo alone on one side, the other 
three facing him like interrogators. Or executioners. The god of death watched
them with nervous lilac eyes, peering from behind his bangs with a small, 
placatory smirk.

     
 "So, what exactly did you want to talk about?" He rasped in that burnt-honey 
voice of his, diction over-careful in the face of accusation. 

      
"You can't think we haven't noticed." Of course Quatre would be the ring leader 
in this; his two lovers would both rather pull teeth than talk about emotions. 

      
"Noticed what, exactly?" He was just stalling for time, now. It wasn't a reluctance 
to talk, not really; he just didn't want to have to act on this discussion later. 
     
 "Heero. His behavior. Your behavior." 
     
 Still waltzing around the issue. Quatre always was an accomplished dancer, 
when he wasn't the one providing the music.
     
 "I don't see it making any difference." He studied the tip of his braid nonchalantly, 
hoping they wouldn't notice the drying streak of blood. "We both complete our 
missions, as usual."
     
 Quatre looked to his lovers helplessly; to Wufei, who looked ready to explode; 
to Trowa, who looked even more implacable than usual. He met Duo's glittered-
violet gaze, and sighed.
      
"My Space Heart cries for him constantly, now."
      
"What?!" Duo gasped, actually surprised; he'd thought . . .
     
"He's in so much pain, Duo. And you're a part of that."
     
 "And at night? How does he feel to you at night?" he asked anxiously, suddenly 
reinterpreting every plea, every sigh, every scream. Quatre met his eyes gravely.
     
 "At first, the pain gets worse. But then, after you both go to . . . after the 
screaming stops, he radiates . . . contentment. He's almost happy, after. T
hat's the only reason I haven't said anything until now, but, Duo, the pain
before . . .? It's getting worse."
      
Any relief he might have felt at Quatre's words was immediately washed away 
by worry; it *had* been getting worse, Heero needing more and more just  to come, 
returning from that mission covered in blood and ready to explode.
     
 "Quatre, Wufei, Trowa, I'm going to tell you something that . . . Heero wouldn't 
want me to mention, but . . . I don't know what to do. Nothing I've tried has 
helped, hell, he's getting worse. . . ." he trailed off, saddened, remembering 
their first time . . . 

****
Duo's POV
It was at school, at that damn school after a mission to destroy a carrier, the 
night before Relena's party, and I just knew he'd leave the next morning, early, 
before anyone was awake. I'd met him twice, now, and already I knew it was 
his way. Heh heh, I've always been a sucker for the Lone Ranger type. Guess 
that makes me Tonto . . . heh.

Maybe I never lie, but I'm pretty good at deception; I did get to that carrier first, 
after all, which must have pissed him off pretty badly since he refused to 
speak to me at first. I waltzed into his room like . .  . well, like Quatre negotiates 
a touchy subject. Heh. He was on his computer, of course, that damn laptop 
that goes everywhere with him, but  when he heard the door latch he shoved a
way from the table, and before I  could speak he had a gun pointed at me. 

"Easy there!" I said, throwing up my hands in mock surrender. I was back in 
my usual garb, having noticed that gym gear had little or no effect on the perfect 
soldier. He eased up, I like to think, when he saw it was me; with the gun still 
pointed at my face, he growled out his usual question.

"Ne, I just thought a little celebration was in order. We did complete a mission, 
and I know you gotta leave soon . . ." I said, as persuasively as I knew how, 
easing just a bit closer in an effort to see those pretty cobalt eyes. Those 
eyes narrowed, and he dropped the gun back to wherever it goes (yeah, I've 
been in his pants, but I still don't know anything about Spandexspace. 
Total mystery.), sitting at his laptop to ignore me as thoroughly as the 
sounds from the party below. Did I say it was the night before the party? 
Whatever, stuff was going on, and he was up here, alone, no doubt erasing 
his files from the school's hard drive. God, I love a good hacker. 

That clacking started up again, and I moved closer, tossing in a sway to my 
hips I knew he'd hear even if he didn't see; he froze when I touched him 
that first time, just locked up when he felt my hand on his shoulder. 
     
 He was so beautiful.

I turned him around in the chair, thanking god that his didn't have a squeak, 
and lowered my lips to his.
    
His mouth softened a little, in surprise, I think, and I dove right in, drinking 
from those lips like I wanted his soul, tasting him to his very core; I got an arm 
around his neck, stroking the silky skin in its play over muscle, wondering 
at the velvet-sheathed steel of his entire body,  wondering what his cock 
must feel like.

The thought sent a bolt of arousal straight to my groin, and I tilted his head 
back, nibbling on those lush, silky lips, feeling him jerk a bit beneath me. I 
knew that if I pulled back, he'd just go back to his mission, pretend that it never 
happened. So, I didn't pull back.

I leaned forward, pressing his back into his own desk, fumbling for and finding 
the shut-off button on his laptop, running that hand through his  wild, soft hair 
to cup his skull with my fingers. And I still couldn't figure out why he wouldn't
push me away if he didn't want this too. It never occurred to me that it had 
been *trained* into him . . .

He was surprisingly quiescent, which I suppose should've been the first sign 
that something was wrong, but when I accidently nipped too hard and drew 
blood from that poutylower lip, I knew something was off. He whined. Heero 
Yuy, perfect soldier and operative extroardinaire, let out this maddening, 
arousing, sexy-as-hell sound of pure need that clenched my hands in his 
flesh and drove me forward, clashing my teeth against his, gnawing at that
pretty mouth, never letting him up for air. He'd learn soon enough to breathe 
while kissing.

I was rubbing against him, trying to get one hand under that damn uniform 
shirt he was still wearing, the same uniform that made his ass look too 
small for fucking and too perfect to leave alone. I could feel his arousal 
against me, his cock hard and long beneath thin Spandex/wool blend, 
and hot against my searching hand. He was beautiful. He felt beautiful.
 Hell, he even tasted beautiful. And this was one invitation he hadn't 
ripped up and thrown in *my* face.

I moved to his neck, letting him up for air as he kept making those needy
sounds, feeling the hum through his voicebox as I tongued a line down his 
jugular, nibbled on a collarbone. I nipped him again, feeling him buck 
beneath me, and I began working a hand down the back of his pants.

His ass was just as nice as I'd thought it would be, and I levered us up 
to our feet in order to appreciate it better; once we were up, it was a 
short trip to the bed, where I pinned him with my aching flesh and tore 
into the bared chest revealed by each bitten button. 

I bit down on one nub of a nipple, my finger circling his anus at the same 
time; he was whining and mumbling almost constantly, making more 
noise than I'd thought possible, his gorgeous eyes luminous in the harsh     
lighting when they weren't squeezed just. I brought the finger up and
 placed it between his lips, my breath harshening as he sucked it in, 
all the time watching me intently, almost studying me. 

I used my free hand to strip off those pants, keeping my chin pressed 
into his lower belly where I could kiss his flexing groin muscles as I freed 
his cock; the wettened finger I pulled from his mouth, ignoring his sounds 
of protest, to press between his legs, slipping past tight muscle as I 
sucked his cockhead into my mouth.

He made the Heero-equivalent of a shriek, and bucked up off the bed 
as I unerringly found his prostate; wiggling my finger to press that gland, I 
kept his back nearly rigid up off the bed with some heavy suction, 
nibbling just a bit to keep him interested. When I bobbed up to check on him, 
his usually glass-sharp eyes were glazed over with need, and his thin fingers 
were tangled in the bed sheets, ripping furrows in the cheap cloth. 

I released him from my mouth with a pop and, leaving the teasing finger 
in place, I worked my way back up his body, sharing his taste in that beautiful 
mouth; his tongue ventured out to lap at his own saltiness, and I nearly 
came right there. Shuddering, I pulled away just long enough to slick up 
my own cock with his spit, and press into his barely-stretched hole.

The head of my cock popped past the sphincter with an ominous sound, 
and I winced and froze, but Heero writhed under me like a cat, eyes 
pleading, hips bucking impatiently as his cock brushed against my 
belly, leaving a sticky trail of precum. I grabbed his wrists, needing to
feel the thin bones grinding in my hands, pushing us forward to slowly 
sheathe myself in him.

He was tight, incredibly tight, and I suddenly realized that he'd either never 
done this before, or his last time had been long enough ago to have been 
illegal; the second option I didn't even want to think about, and the first . . .

The first . . . 

He was making those sounds, and I didn't question it, just pressing forward, 
rocking slowly out to slide smoothly back in, hitting his prostate on the 
downstroke and scraping it on the way out, setting up a rhythm that
was probably faster than was good for him. But he was so beautiful, 
and he was whining enough to make me crazy, lips pursed with 
concentration, hair even more tousled than usual and damp with 
sweat, his pale skin gleaming. . .

All that time, he never touched me. I never thought anything of it, not really, 
and at the time I just remember coming harder than I ever had before in 
my life, feeling his own orgasm spurting beneath me, his internal muscles 
clenching me in a painful grip as he spasmed helplessly. His lip was bleeding 
and he'd managed to scratch himself at some point, and I'd definately left 
bruises on his slender hips, but he had this glazed, satisfied look in his 
eyes. It was like the hurt, the loneliness  I'd sensed in him earlier was 
gone. Exhausted, I lowered my head to his chest, never withdrawing 
from his warm interior even when it became slightly uncomfortable, 
finally falling into a dreamless sleep for the first time in years.

Of course, when I woke up, he was gone and I was alone.

*****
Duo sighed, violet eyes weary with remembered emotion, and he regarded 
Quatre with a slightly resentful gaze, like a junkie who actually knows that 
intervention is necessary, but resists help out of habit alone.

"Okay, I'll start at the beginning. He's mentioned . . . experiments. 
Something about what Dr J did to him, all those years ago . . ."


******************

Mwahahaha! There is no chapter four as of yet, but i might
be persuaded to write one! Flame if you have to, but tell me 
*something*! 

Chapter Four: I Lie Here Charmed(tentative)