Violence+Sex=Love

Title: Violence + Sex = Love

Warnings: AU, OOC,
bastardized Quatre and Heero,
NCS, violence, bondage, S+M, voyeurism, lemon, school fic,
squick, strange, toys.

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: 1x2, 4x2,
references to past 1x6, 4x6, 1x5, 4x5, 1x3, 4x3, slight R+1 (unrequited).

“No Bounce, No Play.”

Prologue

          “Bye, Sister!” Duo called out as he ran out the church
door, long cinnamon braid trailing behind him. Sister Helen, the nun in charge
of the Maxwell Church’s orphanage and the twenty-two orphans that lived in the
orphanage, waved at him from the hallway, her crystal-blue eyes twinkling with
happiness and pride, seeing the fruits of nine years of mothering and hard
work, literally walk out the door. The nun balanced a sleeping five-year-old on
her shoulder, smiling.

          “Have a good day at school, Duo!”

          “I will!” The fifteen-year-old boy called back.

          Nine years ago, in the middle of the night during a
thunderstorm, the worst one in many years, a young blonde boy showed up at the
church’s doorstep carrying a small, brown-haired child wrapped in his jean
jacket, both boys were heavily soaked by the rain. The blonde boy, his blue
t-shirt covered in blood, handed his shivering bundle to Helen.

          “Please, take care of him,” he begged before he collapsed,
dead, having lost too much blood from a single gunshot would in his stomach.
Father Maxwell carried the body into the church and covered it with a blanket,
then called the police. Sister Helen looked down to see scared amethyst eyes
staring at her. The young child clung to her, shaking.

          “It’s okay, honey,” she soothed, running her hand over the
boy’s long, tangled hair. She brought him upstairs to a bathroom and drew him a
bath. As she undressed him, revealing both old and new bruises on his fair
skin, he didn’t resist. It was only when he was in the hot water that he
relaxed. She began to wash his hair, gently, so he wouldn’t be startled. His
hair was actually not nearly as tangled as it had looked, she noted with relief.

          “What’s your name, baby?”

          “Duo. Solo said he’d stay with me.
So’m Duo.” Helen smiled at the cute boy’s loyalty to
his now-dead friend.

          “And how old are you?” He held up his hands.

          “Six.” Helen used a washcloth to rinse the shampoo and soap
off of him.

          “Do you have any parents?” He shook his head.

          “Nu-uh.
Daddy did a bad thing an’ Solo punished him.” Helen froze as she felt a chill
drift up her spine.

          “What bad thing did your daddy do, Duo?”

          “He hit mommy until she couldn’t get up no more.” Helen
picked up a hairbrush with a shaky hand.

          “Is Solo your brother?”

          “Nu-uh.
He lived outside. He di’n’t have parents like me. I’d
make sandwiches for him, though my parents never knew that. Does that make me a
bad person?” She smiled and shook her head, tears in her eyes as she begun to
braid his hair.

          “No, honey. You did a good thing.
You helped out someone who needed your help and I’m sure he appreciated it.
But, Duo, what did Solo do to your Daddy?”

          “He came through my window’n
tried to take me with him, but Daddy shot him. So he took my bat and hit him
until he was bleeding a lot. Daddy didn’t come after us. I think he’s dead like
Solo and Mommy. I miss Solo more than him. Does that make me bad?”

          “Of course not,” she murmured, helping him out of the tub
and wrapped a towel around him. She dressed him in pajamas and handed him over
to the police. He told his story to them and he was handed back to her. For
nine years, she took care of Duo. At first, she worried how the traumatized boy
would be as he grew older, but her worries were unfounded. As Duo grew, he
became a healthy, energetic teenager. He did not anger easily, he always helped
with the younger children. In nine years, Helen had grown to love him like a
mother. And now, on his very first day of school, she couldn’t help but feel a
burst of pride.

          Duo hummed ‘Time to Say Goodbye’ under his breath as he
walked briskly through the town towards the high school. He swung his black
book bag over his shoulder and tried to bury his anxiety deep down inside of
him. In his nine years living at the church, he had never gone to school. Instead,
Sister Helen had home schooled him. He had sensed that Helen worried about how
he would react to other people. He didn’t blame her, though. As a child, he had
been constantly afraid of everything. HE couldn’t trust people. Whenever he had
met someone new, he would flinch away from them, expecting to be yelled at or
hit. He didn’t remember much about his childhood, just enough to understand
that that fear stemmed from his father’s abuse. Because of
his timid ness and distrust, on one had wanted to adopt him. Whenever he
was brought back to the orphanage, Sister Helen looked so mad. He learned early
on that this anger was not directed at him, but at those who had brought him
back. She was angry at the people that didn’t want a child like Duo simply
because they didn’t want to put in any extra effort.

          Despite Duo’s childhood anxieties, in his teens, being surrounded
by kind, patient people, those anxieties slowly disappeared and now he felt
that he was finally ready to take that extra step into the world of public
school. He loved his family at the church, but he missed Solo terribly. He
wanted friends, he wanted to be a part of the world.
There was an alien feeling deep inside of him. A longing for…
something. He didn’t know yet what that feeling was, but he felt that
this was a step in the right direction.

          Duo stood in front of the large, red-brick structure, just
staring at it. He sighed, rubbing one of the straps of his bag in a nervous
gesture. He took a deep breath and entered the school.

End Prologue