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Wayward Souls	By : angelofinnocence Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3090 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Entry 7: Like a Thief

Warnings: Angst, swearing, LEMON, YAOI, OOCNESS, WAFF, prostitution, slight Relena-bashing, possible violence, Heero POV, darkness, violent sex, possible suicide attempts, drug/alcohol abuse, etc...

Disclaimer: I own nothing. God, I wish I did.

(Heero)

I hadn't expected him to show up; not looking like he did, and certainly not with that behind him. I was furious and I couldn't say a thing about it, not until I got him alone and I would without a doubt get him alone. It was inevitable; the possibility of having him so close, but doing nothing was out of the question. I couldn't believe he'd come looking like that and with someone. I couldn't fathom where he'd found the courage, the sheer audacity to bring another man with him, to actually introduce him as his lover in front of me. He'd obviously known how I'd react, even if I couldn't show it outwardly. He'd known that it would piss me off, had probably only done it to spite me in fact, and that made it all the more infuriating.

I had a very strong urge to wrap my hands around the blond man's neck and squeeze until he turned blue and the colour faded from those smug green eyes. I wanted nothing more than to rip that arrogant little smirk off his fucking face. I'd never had such an overwhelming need to murder someone before, to snuff their life out, especially someone who was more or less undeserving of the murderous intent I felt for him. How dare he touch what belonged to me? How dare he flaunt his ability to have Duo in front of me when I could do nothing to stop him? Didn't he know that Duo was mine?

And the compulsion to reclaim the braided man was tangible. I could feel it crawling over my skin, slithering into my blood and making it race, like venom, poisoning me with the unmistakable desire to carve myself into him. I wanted... I needed to scar him, mark him, claim him as my possession, to literally entrap him and lock him away, forcing myself into him until he was unable to move, to escape me. The impulsion to degrade and monopolize was so incredibly strong that I had to remove myself from the vicinity of the three of them, lest I lose control and act on both urges. It was aching, exhausting to hold myself back.

I fumed alone in my office, breaking things in my rage, crushing the meticulous organization beneath the weight of my anguished ferocity. After I had ruined all of the framed photos in a sea of sparkling shards and all of the things from my desk lay strewn in broken disarray, including the computer, printer, fax, and phone, I sat against the wall, head in my hands, shaking. I rocked back and forth surrounded by the wreckage created by the destruction that was me. Tears came then, unbidden and full of angry bitterness at myself, at my own inadequacy; the inability to express myself without violence.

I punched the wall next to me repeatedly in frustration; I didn't know how many times, but it was enough to leave my knuckles bruised and with sufficient force to tear the flesh open, the wall bearing a bloody wound when I was finished. It wasn't enough... I'd never been so frantic and frenzied in my madness before, never had such an inane drive to inflict pain as deeply and as ruthlessly as possible.

After an amount of time I couldn't recount, when my limbs had become so numb that I could no longer feel the throbbing of my fists and all I could hear was the thunderous rush of my own blood in my ears, I stood, leaving the ruins that had once been my office, my refuge, behind. And I ran, and ran, and ran until my legs ached viciously and couldn't continue on, ending my trek in the courtyard.

With no recollection of how I'd come to be in the pristine elegance of the yard, I returned to the mansion, exhausted, drained and dirty, with more bruises than I had had before Duo and his friend had arrived. I went straight to the suite I shared with Relena and stripped out of my sweaty clothing, discarding the articles with no regard for where they landed. I clambered into the shower, turning the water to near scalding, hissing when the steamy water made contact with the ragged flesh of my abused knuckles.

I leaned against the tiles, supporting myself with spread palms, the heated liquid pounding my shoulders and pouring over my chest as I stared at the floor, uncaring of the water running over my cheeks and blurring my vision. My thoughts were no more than a muddled tangle of anger, regret, guilt, and a twisted, dark lust that made me ill. I ran my eyes over my own feet, legs, and caught on the sight of an erection I didn't remember getting.

Not giving it a second thought, I closed the fingers of my left hand around it roughly and stroked furiously, reveling in the tight heat of my own fist, imagining Duo's body instead, his cries, the smell of his skin, sweat and blood. I came with a harsh grunt, semen hitting the wall with a muted splatter and I watched it with a detached kind of fascination as it slid over the tiling down to be swallowed by the ravenous drain.

I clenched my jaw so hard that my teeth ached. I was disgusted... What did that man give Duo that I did not? Was it soft caresses and gentle kisses, whispered desperateness in a dark-lit room, rumpled sheets and admissions of a normal love? A tenderness that I did not possess?

I slammed my fist into the tile wall, reopening the still fresh abrasions on my knuckles as bile rose in my throat. I wasn't able to contain myself as I gagged, heaving as my stomach rebelled raucously at the vulgar imagery my mind supplied. Visions of my own hands slitting that man's throat and using the blood to lubricate my path into Duo's body. I vomited, my own body shaking uncontrollably. What kind of man had such fantasies? The answer, I found, was truly terrifying...

For several more minutes I stood beneath the shower spray, watching the contents previously in my stomach disappearing into the the pipes, gobbled up by the greedy drain. I left the bathroom and dressed, bandaging my hands with a mechanical familiarity before making my way towards the kitchen.

I entered the overly perfect room with it's indecent cleanliness under the intention to get much needed water for my raw throat, only to stumble upon Duo there with Relena, my two lovers. They looked cozy together, the two of them sipping their tea like a pair of lovers having a serene nightcap, as if he belonged there with her as if she had been meant to be at his side and I was the intruder interrupting their midnight tryst. The rage boiled over...

She watched me, eyes accusing and defied me with sharp words on her tongue. I looked at him and I knew... I knew he had given her the tools to defy me, the courage to break the threads of control I'd placed on her. I could feel the glare as I stared at him, resenting him for liberating her from me when he couldn't even release himself from my hold. He couldn't look me in the eye and I knew something had changed. Just like a thief in the night, the thief that was in his nature, he had stolen her, ripped the patch from back and left the flesh raw and bleeding in the open air. And poured salt into the wound....

Didn't he know? Didn't he realize that by doing so, he was leaving himself unguarded, easy prey for the beast that lived inside of me, the one that lusted and hungered to devour his entire existence. I longed to throw him down, tear him apart piece by piece and gorge on the remains until there was nothing left, to swallow him, absorb him into myself so no one would ever be able to take him away from me again. Didn't he know that he was inviting me? Tempting me with his guileless attempts to comfort her in front of me? Did he want to be consumed?

And as they left together, I crumpled to the floor shaking, shivering, unable to breathe as my world shattered, breaking apart around me, the tattered remnants falling like ashes before my eyes, leaving me cold and alone. Somewhere in my mind, a child was crying...

When I opened my eyes again, I noticed that the ground before me was blurred and distorted, and my palms on the cool kitchen tile were wet and throbbing and the quiet wailing had become deafening. I realized that the sound was coming from my own mouth, bitter and crude on my pallet. With unbearable clarity, I knew... I knew that that child was me...

TBC....

Author's Notes: So it's been ages. I know. I was being lazy and a lot of things happened, causing me to lose my motivation. I hope that everyone is happy with this update and there will be more soon. I think there will be maybe ten to twelve more chapter to this depending on how long each one turns out to be. Any feedback will be much appreciated. Thanks for reading.
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Wayward Souls