unrequited

unrequited

disclaimer: owning, something I can’t say
warning: be gentle, cause I won’t
an: Pain, pleasure, anger, exhaustion…sometimes we can’t see clearly because of these things, whether it be internally or physical blindness. That is what this and chapter 11 are all about.

//And you don’t know
the demons in my head
and you don’t know
the pain inside my bed
and you don’t know
what I will do to you
and what you don’t know
will hurt you//

chapter twelve/trowa’s punishment


How he got there, he’ll never know. He was angry, so very angry. In his haze all he could think about were two things, or rather two people; Relena Darlian and Trowa Barton. Together, naked, kissing, touching, fucking. He used to be able to see her, imagine her, perfect, beautiful and pure – attainable. Now she was tainted by Barton and his deceit. Gone was the perfection, the beauty, the purity, she was his. Beyond reach.

“You wanted your angel the moment she fell.” Trowa’s words kept echoing through his mind.

He didn’t want to believe it was true. He didn’t want to put weight into Barton’s words but he found himself trapped in a web of self-doubt and loathing. When he came to Relena tonight his intention was to talk to her, understand her intention and explain his own. But when he saw her naked hot flesh barely contained under those flimsy crumpled sheets something inside him took over, a deep animalistic lust was unleashed and he had to take her. He knew she was tired – her eyes were closed and when they did flutter open her expression was glazed and her expression distant. Almost like she wasn’t even aware of the physical plane of existence. It was almost…ethereal. Her mouth, her skin, her tight heat clamped around him, bringing on a release reminiscent of a volcano in the deadest of winter.

He almost felt alive for about ten seconds when harsh reality sent him spiraling back to hell.

She’d screamed another man’s name.

His foot slammed down onto the gas, his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. That fucking asshole was going to pay for taking the one thing he held dear and tainting it with his evilness. Leave it to the twisted workings of Trowa Barton’s mind to desecrate the one pure, clean thing in the world. And for what, really? Because he was bored? Because she lured him in like a scarlet whore, wet and wanton, a dark seductress?

“You didn’t expect her to bring me into this little circle, now did you?”

The fucking bastard. Even if she had invited him in, she could never had know what he was like or what his real intentions were. No one even knew what to expect from the reclusive Trowa Barton – it was his plague on humanity. Those few who had learned his secret knew he was not a man to be trifled with. Even as a fucking kid his silent, brooding nature had fooled so many into disbelief that the same shy Trowa could be the man behind such horrible crimes and deception. No one knew what he was really like.

That was a fact of life about to change, Heero knew, as he swerved his car into the underground parking lot of Trowa’s apartment building. That bastard was going to be shown for the manipulative fuck he was and Heero was going to be the one to do it.

He slammed on the breaks and threw open his door, slamming it shut. He didn’t even remember locking the door, he just ran to the stairs – the elevator was too slow. He didn’t need a moment to stop and think about what he was doing. He needed to do it. He needed to stay alive and fuelled lest he fall into one of Barton’s traps.

Faster and faster he leapt up the staircase taking two, three at a time, around and around until he was almost dizzy. He refused to give into though, especially with his emotions running so high. His focus impenetrable, he tore through the thirteenth floor like a bat out of hell, kicking open the door to 1306. He rushed in, fists balled, tearing through the bare studio until he found his target and swung his fist, slamming down into Trowa’s jaw and knocking the man to the floor.

All the words he longed to scream failed him as he met Trowa’s even gaze. He was too enraged to speak. He lifted Trowa to his feet by his shirt, knocking another roundhouse into his swollen jaw, his left eye, his nose. Blood splattered across his face as he broke Trowa’s nose – down his shirt and sullied his hands. He threw Trowa against the wall, his hands balled into tight fists pounding into the man’s abdomen again and again, blindly meeting its target.

“Feel better?” Trowa asked hoarsely, spitting blood onto the floor.

Heero growled. The motherfucker wasn’t even fazed. He looked like he was enjoying the pain of being wailed on. Reveled in it. Heero felt his stomach sink and he threw Trowa onto the floor again. “You arrogant fucking prick,” He hissed through his teeth, his tongue dripping with venom. “You’ve ruined everything!”

Trowa said nothing but smiled – his smile of triumph, through the blood and pain. He came and he saw and he conquered.

He was just being toyed with, Heero knew this. Trowa’s smile said one thing – it didn’t matter how much physical pain he caused, didn’t matter how many bones he broke, Heero had lost. Trowa had everything – and was merely allowing Heero’s tantrum for pure sport, a mocking gesture. He knew it and Trowa knew it.

Heero was unaccustomed, to say the very least, to being so powerless. He was used to being in control, being the dominant force – and ultimately Trowa disturbed that fact and disturbed him. He would never regain his semblance of power with Barton there.

“Face it, Heero. You had nothing to begin with.” Trowa retorted, slowly rising to his elbows, one hand absently wiping the blood off his face with the back of his sleeve. “”So go ahead, take it out on me. I relish in your anger. I love it when you get worked up.” Each word seemed to drip from his tongue with such pleasure Heero was temped to rip it from his mouth and see how menacing he would be then.

His fist raised, Heero stopped himself before he slugged Barton again. Something hot had his rage built. Something inside him wanted to destroy Barton beyond the physical, transcend the violent assault into something more intimate and devastating. He was going to hurt Trowa where it mattered. Two could play this sordid little game. His fingers slowly loosened their hold over the fabric of Trowa’s shirt and he fell back to the floor.

“How do you want it, Barton?” He demanded, his voice taking on a sort of seductive undertone that even Trowa appeared surprised.

But Barton recovered as quickly as he was startled. “You’re not going to fight me anymore?”

Heero shook his head. “When I’m fucking done with you Trowa, there will be no need.”

An intrigued expression marked Barton’s cool features, and the smile returned. “What do you have in mind?” He asked coyly, moistening his bottom lip.

Heero pulled Trowa off the floor with gruff hands and onto his feet unsteadily. With his mouth still bitter with vehemence, he thrust his tongue down Trowa’s throat, nearly chocking him on the powerful oral muscle. Barton was quick to recover and attempted to battle Heero’s aching hot mouth against his own with little victory. Heero was mad – and whe wae was mad he had to get his way. They both knew this, so when Heero felt Trowa go somewhat slack beside him he didn’t lessen his assault. Instead, he pushed the man onto his knees.

“You’re going to suck my dick. No teeth, no biting, or I will,” With a slick motion that went unseen by the naked eye, Trowa felt the cold steel muzzle of Heero’s ever trusted glock nine millimeter press into his forehead. “Shoot you. Don’t think your immune. Even you can’t stop a bullet, you arrogant prick.” To back his statement Heero cocked his gun in one hand, a practiced skill meant to intimidate.

Trowa’s head may have been bowed down but his expression of quiet mirth was plainly evident. With slow, lengthy caressed, his long fingers danced along Heero’s zipper fly and belt, in a vain attempt to arouse. Heero pushed the gun further into Trowa’s skull, breaking blood vessels. “Fuck foreplay and just suck it.”

Trowa unfastened Heero’s belt with deliberate touch, his speed increased to a steady flow of movement, free of haste. His fingers parted the zipper’s teeth and pushed the worn denim aside with two hands. Heero was naked underneath, his cock semi-erect, smooth and lightly veined. Trowa met Heero’s eyes only to have the gun pressed into his flesh again. With no only encouragement required, Trowa’s wet mouth opened wide and took Heero in, inch by inch. His mouth was endless – as Heero felt the wet heat engulf him almost completely. He closed his eyes as the sensation of Trowa’s tongue swirled up and down the length of him, wagging back and forth.

Gun still in hand, Heero began to push Trowa’s head up and down his shaft, keeping his dick solid and contained between Barton’s lips. Alternating his swirling tongue with a hard, firm suck – much like he knew Heero liked long ago – he could taste the pre-come wetness envelope the tip of his throbbing penis. Trowa lapped away hungrily, his blowjob so intense Heero literally shoved him away – his erection now painful. He pushed Trowa to the ground, unfastening his trousers with deft, jerky movements. He pushed the pants and briefs down, and then threw Trowa onto his stomach, lifting his smooth, finely cleft ass into the air.

“You wanted it so fucking badly,” Heero retorted, shoving his cock deep inside of his enemy, the butt of his gun resting cold against Trowa’s hip while his other arm held fast around Trowa’s waist for leverage. “Now I’m having you. How does it feel, Barton? How does it feel to be my bitch?” He demanded as he began to thrust violently into Barton’s sore body. He heaved himself forward, again and again, hurling toward climax. Trowa’s mouth had provided apt lubrication, giving Heero a smooth, tight ride.

This wasn’t sex, Heero told himself. This was Trowa’s punishment.

He jerked forward one last time as he came, his body shuddering. His orgasmic bliss was short and bittersweet – he wished it were Relena he was hovering over, not the manipulative Trowa Barton. At least when he was with Relena he felt some impression of being in control, being the dominant. Trowa took it all away, and for that he had to pay. He had to do this, he knew, wiping the newly formed beads of sweat from his brow. It was the only way to teach him not to play with fire.

Heero withdrew himself from Trowa’s limp person and started adjusting himself. “And that is what you get.” He retorted, sheathing his glock into the waistband of his pants. As Trowa slowly pushed himself into a seating position, Heero was out the door, the rage in him ready to be revamped and refocused into winning back a certain female’s favor.



to be continued…


Closing note: This was my first and probably last yaoi/slash sex scene, so I apologize if it seemed to lack heat or was unbalanced or even tasteless. Hell, we’re all uncoordinated and graceless the first time. Also, Ash, I hope your reading carefully, because I want you to go over this w/ me at my house tomorrow!