In all my life, which in all honesty isn't
exactly up there with Methuselah or anything, I've only found one
indisputable truth.
Life sucks.
Oh, sure, you might have your moments where everything is going like
an episode of Sesame Street, just happy cookie breaks and counting,
and then Big Bird steps off a curb in front of the 3:30 bus and
splat, right back to rule number one. Life sucks.
Which would be why I am here right now wearing leather pants that
are about a year too tight on me instead of at home watching the
mid-morning cartoons and eating a bowl of Lucky Charms, or maybe
Froot Loops. Oh, no, instead of sitting in my nice, comfy recliner
that I liberated from someone's front porch a while ago, I'm on a
decrepit old subway train that is making increasingly ominous noises
as it speeds up.
All because of a phone call I got at five this morning, and we all
know that no phone call that come before there is light can possibly
be anything good. And believe me, it wasn't.
In fact, I take it all back. Life doesn't just suck; it sucks hard,
like a fucking Hoover.
The train creaked to a stop at the station and I was so glad that
the damn thing actually did stop that I didn't even mind the way the
brakes shrieked for a good ten seconds first. If you make it out
alive then it's not polite to be too picky.
Now, if you stepped off the 8:00am transfer to the fifth quadrant,
like I am, with the other hundred people who come here for business
transactions you'd see why all of them risk their lives on the train
every day instead of actually living here.
The first thing you notice is the smell, the stench of filth and
unwashed bodies crammed together into a few square miles of living
space. The water shortages now are nothing like what L-2 went
through when I was a kid, but habits are hard to break and the
recyclers in this part of the colony are still shitty pieces of
junk, giving you bowl of gray piss-scented water that's supposed to
be safe to drink.
I walked out of the station and down the trash littered street to
the Ninth and Center crosswalk, and had to make myself keep going.
Just the sight of this place made me sick to my stomach. The greasy,
filthy inhabitants of fifth quadrant, human flotsam that drifted in
and out of existence, repulsed me. Some of them would manage to
scratch out a living, if you could call it that, most of them would
die in a burst of drug-induced happiness, and no one in the rest of
the galaxy would give a shit either way.
A few of them glanced my way, looking at me just a second or so too
long. Not surprising considering what I was wearing, but I wasn't
giving off any signals so no one came over with any offers. It was
just as well, with the mood I was in I would cheerfully hand anyone
who offered me a credit chip his own balls for a souvenir.
It was bad enough to know that a few years ago I would have taken
it, but worse was the fact that I knew I'd nearly stayed one of
them. If I'd been a little less determined to get the hell out, a
little more interested in the chemical dream-life that most of my
friends had been living, if one man of the cloth had been just a
little less caring about a dirty faced, dirty-mouthed little boy,
then this is where I'd still be.
And sometimes, I hate myself for managing to live when all the rest
of them are long dead. So I guess having to see all this again is
really a kind of justice. Chang would be so pleased.
A small group of dirty children were digging through a trash bin
behind a greasy-looking restaurant and I had to force myself to walk
past them as if they didn't even exist, because I'd be broke in a
minute if I said one word to them. If you offered a coin to one of
them there would immediately be another small, grubby hand begging
for a coin of its own. And another, and another until every cent you
have is gone and there would still be empty, pleading hands.
Some things never change.
It only took me a few minutes to get to the intersection, a lot
faster than I remember it being but then, my legs were probably
shorter the last time I was here. I won't ever be playing
professional basketball but even I've sprouted a couple inches in
the past few years. There aren't many cars in the fifth quadrant,
not ones that run anyway, so I didn't even wait for the light to
change before I crossed over and started my way down Center.
It'd been years since I'd been on this street, not since long before
the war, and the day I walked away I had sworn to God and sonny
Jesus that there was nothing in the known universe that could drag
my ass back down here. Nothing.
So much for promises.
It wasn't all that far down Center, and I could smell it before I
saw it. I shivered slightly in recognition and it struck me as
ironically amusing that even after all these years only the faintest
plastic scent of imitation patchouli oil could have an effect on me.
They practically hosed the place down with it, making it the only
building in the fifth quadrant that didn't smell like piss and
rotting garbage.
Mona's.
There was a small, faded sign hanging from rusted hooks on the
outside, but it didn't really matter. If you knew about Mona's then
you sure as hell didn't need a sign to point the way. If you didn't
know then chances were you weren't going in because you wanted to,
and in that case a sign wasn't going to do you a hell of a lot of
good anyway.
I stopped at the front steps and stared mutely at the heavy wood
door, watching the occasional person push through it. A regular
swarm of activity was Mona's door, and I felt repulsed by my own
sour humor. Yeah, some things never change, especially down here.
Sometimes I wonder if I've changed all that much, either.
It occurred to me suddenly while I stood there on the shitty,
crumbling pavement that passed for a sidewalk that I could just walk
away. I could turn around right now without ever putting one foot on
those steps, the wood long ago worn as smooth as glass by the
passing of thousands of feet. I could keep that little promise to
myself and just waltz on back to quadrant one where I belonged, and
tell Une anything I wanted, including a suggestion on exactly how
she could kiss my ass the next time she thought about asking me for
such a stupid fucking favor. I could just...leave.
Another person walked inside and let the door bang shut behind him,
as loud as a gunshot. I jumped and nearly staggered into an old
woman scurrying past, her arms loaded with dirty grocery bags. I
smiled sheepishly in reply to her glare before glancing back at the
door, already feeling as tired as if I'd been awake for a fucking
week.
I could walk away, but I knew I wouldn't. If I'd wanted to hide from
all the little fucked up aspects of my life then I wouldn't have
come back to L-2 in the first place.
After the whole Mariemaia incident, I spent about a year working for
the Preventers. It was good, you know? Good work we were doing, good
people to be with...I haven't seen those people in so long. Une
sends me updates every once in a while. Sometimes I read it,
sometimes I don't. One thing I do appreciate is she's never asked me
to come back to work. She was the only person, out of all of them,
who seemed to really understand.
People seem to think that I'm just this happy, grinning, fucking
moron, that I don't feel pain like others do. Just because I don't
go around screaming about justice or blowing up colonies doesn't
mean I don't hurt.
A whole year working for them, just starting to believe that this
peace shit might actually be working and then I got to watch one of
my closest friends die, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do
about it.
There might not be OZ and enemy armies anymore, but there were still
terrorists who still set bombs. It was my assignment, my
responsibility, but fuck, I've never been any good with bombs,
arming or disarming so I just let...I let...
I let my best friend die.
And I'd snapped, like a cheap rubber band, and I can admit it. One
more person who cared about me was dead, and the blood was still
drying on my hands. Again. I ran back to L-2 and I've been here ever
since.
Quatre was the only person who actually tried to reason with me.
Said it wasn't my fault, and the psychobabble bullshit that you're
supposed to say to people who've had friends die. And it wasn't my
fault. I know it wasn't. It was the bastards who set the bomb and
believe you me they paid for that.
But Hilde is still dead. And it was still my mission. And I've been
hiding on L-2 eating Lucky Charms and Froot Loops for nearly six
months now, until I got a call from Une, who had never asked me to
come back to work. Until now.
Another friend, neck deep in kimchee from a screwed up undercover
assignment and the closest agent she had to the situation was me.
Someone's fragile life was being tossed into my butterfingers again,
for better or for worse, and I took a deep breath, trying to make
that, ‘Jesus, I'm going to puke' feeling go away before I finally
walked up the stairs and through the door, stepping back about four
years into my fucked-up shithole of a life.
***
Everything was nearly exactly how I remembered it, from the tidy
little bar setup in one corner to the faded cushions on the sofas
that were scattered around. Even the people who were draped on those
sofas looked pretty much the same, different faces maybe, but a
whore is a whore, and every one of them had the same hollow cheeks
and too pale skin that didn't see the sun often enough.
A few of them glanced at me as I walked in, sizing up the potential
business and those shadowed eyes with their widened pupils looked
just a little too familiar to me, eyes that I had seen staring out
from a mirror way too fucking often.
I looked away from those eyes, with burning hunger lingering in
their depths, and studied the house instead. It was pretty quiet,
about what you could expect for 8:00am, but not totally. A
businessman or two who came in before they had to be at the office
was the norm for this time of morning. Not as suspicious, you know.
The wife might start wondering if you come home late every night but
leaving early never seemed to set off the warning alarms.
"Well, well, well, look who has ventured back into our little
establishment!"
I nearly jumped out of my pants at that, which would have been quite
a feat considering how tight they were, but I recognized the voice
an instant later. Bracing myself, I turned around to look at the one
familiar face that was still here.
"Hey, Tio," I said, faking pleasure at seeing him. Tio had been
running Mona's for years, long after the grand dame herself had
retired to someplace a little less fragrant than L-2. Nice enough
guy, Tio, but for all his fancy clothes and the airs he tried to put
on, he was just another used-up old slut like the rest of us, only
now all his money came from what other people earned on their backs
instead of his own.
At least that's what I tried to tell my racing heart and suddenly my
pants felt even tighter. From the soft, dark curls of his hair to
his bright green eyes with only the faintest lines around them
betraying his age, Tio hadn't changed enough for my tastes. Or maybe
the trouble was he was still a little too close to my tastes.
He was leaning on the same wooden cane he'd had when I'd left, an
old, nicked-up piece of mahogany that had more sentimental value
than actual worth. Not that he really needed it, but if you asked
about it, Tio would be more than happy to demonstrate its real
purpose. I shivered a little in spite of the sudden heat in the room
at a memory of that cane. Yeah, Tio was a nice enough guy, and
talented besides...he'd taught me a few lessons anyway.
Patting my arm lightly, he gestured for me to follow him into one of
the side parlors. The second he turned around I adjusted the trouser
monster that had sprouted in my pants, ignoring the snicker of the
hookers behind me. Probably half of them would trade their false
eyelashes and maybe a bottle of extra-slick Astroglide to be going
into a private room with Tio; a shame that I'm not really in a
position to appreciate it.
Ignoring the mental images that the word ‘position' stirred up, I
followed Tio into the other room. He was settling himself on one of
the faded chairs and laid his cane on the cushion beside him. He
waited politely until I was sitting on the sofa across from him
before he spoke. "And what brings you here, sweet, business or
pleasure?"
I nearly winced at that old nickname. How much else had I forgotten?
Probably not enough to get me in trouble and sure as hell not as
much as I remembered. I'd been remembering all morning long, since
I'd heard Une say in that little apologetic voice of hers that she
needed me to come here.
"Aren't they the same thing here?" I replied, laughing easily as I
tried to ignore the voice in the back of my head that pleaded with
me to get on my knees, to press openmouthed kisses to the worn wood
of that cane. To beg. I didn't need any of Quatre's little psychic
powers to read Tio, to know he'd take me back if I begged him
prettily enough. He was the only person I'd ever begged for, and,
fuck, if Tio didn't know it. But he'd also let me go, once, and
there was no guaranteeing he'd do it again a second time.
And the way I'd been feeling lately, I was more afraid that this
time I wouldn't want to go.
Tio didn't laugh but he smiled, a little, which was actually a grin
for him. Reminded me of someone else I know, the same person whose
fuck-up was forcing me to be here again. "They are the same here,
sometimes, aren't they, sweet." Not a question and I swallowed hard
as Tio's eyes traced over my body, damning the fact that I'd worn
leathers that Tio would sure as hell remember and damning even more
the fact that I hadn't had a choice. It was like all the years I had
been gone had suddenly melted away and I could almost feel the chafe
of a collar around my neck. Almost.
Tio let me squirm for a minute and then let it go, raising his eyes
back to mine as if everything was just peachy keen. The bastard.
"Tell me," he asked softly, "Does it feel strange to be on the other
side of the equation?"
I felt my mouth twist in a wry smile. Time to remind someone that
the collar was off and had been for some time. "Whatever happened to
respecting the privacy of the paying customers?" I asked lightly.
Not that I can blame him for being a little too familiar. We knew
each other pretty well, or at least we had. At one time I'd been the
best little slave he had. I'd been a whore too, I've never made any
secret of that, but believe me it was better to make people pay for
it than ending up giving it away free on the streets. And people
will pay good money for some strange things.
And after a while, after you learn that you have a little talent for
it, you can enjoy some pretty damn strange things too. Another
tidbit I'd learned working here and it was a lesson I'd been trying
hard to forget.
Tio raised an eyebrow and I knew what he was thinking. If all I'd
wanted was a ten-credit fuck then why had I followed him here? "Ah,
is that what you are tonight? Looking for anything...special?"
I sprawled back on the sofa, stretching in such a way that my shirt
pulled up a little and I didn't bother to hide my smirk as Tio's
eyes darkened. I wasn't the only one with old memories. "Something
young," I said, softly, "Something...exotic."
Yeah, Heero would be something exotic, all right. Tio would see to
that.
I could see Tio was considering what I'd said and I waited, more or
less patiently. Pushing would only hurt me right now and Tio knew my
tastes better than I did. If Yuy was here, I'd get him. Hell, the
black-market sales of the tape he'd make of us together would more
than make up for losing an extra chance to have me between the
sheets and, if nothing else, Tio was a businessman.
"I may have something that you would find appealing," Tio said
finally, quietly, and he picked up his cane. I followed him out into
the main lobby and to the back rooms, ignoring the renewed interest
of the whores. They either thought I was insane or had really low
stamina but it wasn't like I was going to end up chatting with them
later.
Tio unlocked one of the doors and motioned for me to go in ahead of
him. I did, warily. Tio might be an old friend but that didn't mean
I trusted him more than I could throw him uphill while he was
wrapped in a cement kimono.
The first thing that came into what was left of my mind as I stepped
inside was beautiful.
He was nearly naked, which I'd expected, hell, I'd anticipated it,
but seeing him like that was like getting a sucker punch right in
the stomach. Or maybe more like the crotch because that's where all
the blood in my system suddenly decided it needed to be.
He was absolutely fucking beautiful.
Head bowed, with a surprisingly intricate gold-tinted collar buckled
around his neck, he was kneeling on a threadbare rug in the center
of the room. He had small gold hoops piercing both of his nipples
and a chain dangled between them. A third section of the chain
disappeared beneath the waistband of his very nearly transparent
pants, and I'd bet good money that those little trinkets were recent
acquirements. Heero didn't seem to be the type to get drunk and end
up with a pierced ear much less the Prince Albert that I suspected
was beneath the tissue paper disguised as pants that he was wearing.
Heero glanced up for a moment and I caught a glimpse of his eyes
rimmed heavily with black eyeliner and only the thinnest rim of blue
visible around the blackness of his pupils. I wondered with thin
amusement what they'd doped him with. Maybe a few ounces of Rapture,
something to make a new prostitute a little more willing for the
paying clients. Anyway, it was probably nothing too addictive.
Hopefully.
I could taste the sweat beading on my upper lip and I licked it away
before Tio could see it. No use letting the bastard know he had more
of an advantage than he did, but, God, if he didn't know me too
fucking well! A glance at Tio showed me he was discreetly carrying a
leash already, and with one little flick of the wrist he'd have a
sweet, fiery pet on a lead, all ready for the taking. For a price.
Had I really thought I'd changed? That I'd scrubbed away the need
along with the dirt when I'd finally gotten enough sense of
self-preservation to get the hell out while I still could?
Heero looked at me again from beneath his lashes and his eyes didn't
even flicker with recognition. Whether that was from the drugs or
from his legendary superman impersonation, I had no idea, and I
didn't really care.
We'd had something simmering between us for years, both of us
juggling lust and control between us, and after the whole thing with
Hilde, he'd finally just let me go. Was I disappointed? Beats the
hell out of me, but I know that he couldn't have stopped me from
leaving anymore than he could have allowed himself to come with me.
He'd let me go and I'd went without a backwards glance, and now here
we were again with another charade between us. At least our last
little acting job wouldn't have gotten us both killed.
But this time there was no hiding from it anymore, for either of us.
In a few minutes I was going to be fucking Heero Yuy, whether we
wanted to or not. Playing games with Tio was dangerous as hell, and
if you wanted to live through it with all your private parts intact
then you played by the rules.
Still, it'd be easier if I had a little blood left in my other head
for scheming.
"Where did you pick this one up?" I asked, trying to sound careless
and sounding more like a horny Mickey Mouse. So much for scheming.
Tio waved a hand negligently. "Ah, nowhere special. Fresh and barely
used."
Which meant he'd picked Heero up on the black market. Lucky little
soldier boy; if he'd been on the block he could have been sold
anywhere in the solar system. The fact that Tio got him was damn
near the closest thing to a miracle that this church boy has seen.
I made a show of studying him carefully before I made my offer, as
if I wouldn't have taken him if he were dressed in a pink tutu and
ballet slippers. "Twenty credits" I said, finally.
Tio made a strangled noise behind me. "Twenty credits for a specimen
such as this? Dear, I know you're an old friend, but..."
I interrupted him before he could go through the old ‘Woe is me'
spiel. "Tio, cut the bullshit, I'm not a cherry picker. Your version
of ‘fresh' and ‘barely used' usually means someone whose only been
fucked up the ass a hundred times instead of a thousand."
"Still, twenty credits for him?" Tio protested, "Please, at least
fifty!"
"Thirty."
"Forty!"
"Done."
Before he left, Tio slapped the leash into my hand hard enough for
it to sting and I shivered again. Even having Heero on his knees in
front of me wasn't enough to help me forget but it sure as hell cut
the trip down memory lane short.
Heero hadn't taken his eyes off me, and I stepped forward, making a
show of attaching the leash while my eyes flicked over the room,
searching, searching...ah! There we are. For all the money Tio makes
you'd think he'd be able to afford better than a cheap surveillance
system.
Tugging lightly on the leash, I forced Heero to raise his head and
look at me. Much to my annoyance nothing but pure, sweet calm
greeted me. Did he always have to be so damned controlled, even now?
Or was he so doped up he just didn't care? Reaching over, I tweaked
one of his nipples, giving the ring a nice tug and he shuddered,
hard, all his precious control gone with a single touch.
I couldn't help but smile, forcing myself to keep it small so he
didn't think I was too easily pleased. If Heero had been here more
than an hour he'd already had a certain amount of training, which
would probably make this easier. I wondered who else had touched
him; just Tio himself, probably. Heero was perfectly to his tastes,
and instead of pissing me off I felt even more like I was trapped in
a sudden heat wave. Time to hurry this show up before I came in my
pants.
I pulled on the leash again, making Heero tilt his head so I bury my
face against the side of his neck. "They're watching," I murmured
into his ear, tracing the soft curve with the tip of my tongue. "If
we don't make this look good we're both going to lose our balls and
I prefer mine right where they are, thanks."
He nodded, minutely, and I felt a flash of irrational hatred for
him. Sure, he'll fuck me, for the mission, for our lives, but not
just for the plain, simple, sweaty, joy of pinning me down and
screwing my brains out.
Hatred sort of vanished in between me sucking on his neck and the
feeling of his hands sliding up my thighs. He pushed me upright,
warily like a slave should, watching for any sign that this wasn't
acceptable but at that moment I wasn't much for being a hardnosed
master. Something else in my trousers had been hard for way too long
now and I needed...I needed...
I needed those careful, strangely soft hands to unfasten the fly of
my pants and gently coax my erection into their waiting grasp. Not
that it needed much coaxing, it fairly leapt into Heero's face, and,
you know, I take back at least half the things I've said about Heero
not being able to take a hint and I would take back more if my brain
hadn't short-circuited at the feeling of Heero Yuy wrapping his
mouth around my cock.
Hot, oh, my sweet God, his mouth was hot, and he sucked me inside
that heat so damned slowly, and I knew then, dimly, that it had been
Tio who'd been teaching him a few tricks. Then thought became just a
bit too difficult and I found my hands suddenly, conveniently,
clenched in the hair on the sides of his head.
I tightened my grip, holding him still and pushed myself hard into
that dark, wonderful heat. Heero didn't even whimper a protest, just
took everything I had to offer and sucked it deep inside, his soft
tongue flicking little patterns all over my cock, and Jesus, did
Heero even have to be a better hooker than I had been?
Not that I was complaining, it had been so very long since I'd felt
anything like this, hell, I'd never felt anything like this and I
could hear myself making some pretty damn loud noises as I fucked
his mouth harder, almost grimly. Trying to make him gag, trying not
to let him beat me at this and with a loud wail of protest I came,
spilling myself into that heat and then, finally, he choked, just a
little, as he struggled to swallow it all down.
I slumped back against the door, squirming uncomfortably as I
struggled to stay on my feet. Just for reference, leather clothes
are not the most comfortable things to be sweating in. After a few
minutes of learning how to breathe again, I managed to open my eyes
and saw Heero Yuy still kneeling in front of me, serenely.
Oh, now that wouldn't do at all. A slave should be pleased that he
pleased his master, but never, and I mean never, should he try to be
better than the master. Heero Yuy had a lesson to learn, and I was
just the guy to teach it to him. Without a single sound to mark it,
I gave in, just like that, to a the flood of Self that I'd been
trying to make myself forget about for the past four years, and
every second I'd spent unlearning had just been sucked into the
drain of the sweetest mouth I'd ever had the chance to feel wrapped
around my dick.
After I fastening my pants, I leaned over and picked up the leash
again, careful not to let the tremble in my hands show as I slowly
pulled it tight, forcing Heero off-balance as he was caught between
staying on his knees and choking. A flash of uncertainty flickered
through his eyes and I smiled at him slowly.
"Take off your pants," I ordered softly, and Heero obeyed
beautifully, yes, he would obey but he wasn't tamed and I knew it.
It was a little difficult for him since I didn't ease up on the
leash but Heero is a man of many talents, some that he isn't even
aware of, I'm sure.
He was even more beautiful naked, his cock heavy and hard between
his legs with the expected Prince Albert gleaming at the tip. Not as
stoic as he pretended, now was he? I eased down on the leash and
reached forward to unsnap it, holding it loosely in one hand as
Heero looked up at me uncertainly.
"Turn around," I said, not even bothering to be sharp with him. He'd
do whatever I said without protest, mores the pity. "Hands and
knees."
It was an order he understood, I could see that much, but the sight
of his backside was enough to make a guy like me salivate in
anticipation. Not a single mark on that pale little ass, nothing but
smooth, white skin, and maybe Tio hadn't lied to me as much as I
thought. Heero couldn't have been here that long if he hadn't
already gotten the lesson I was about to teach him.
He was expecting me to fuck him, wanted me to do it. I could see
that in the slight arch of his hips, the tiny wiggle of his backside
as he waited, but he was going to have to learn that a slave didn't
always get what they wanted.
There was a good reason all the leashes at Mona's were made out of
leather, and folding mine in half left me with a good, long, doubled
strip to work with. I pulled a pair of gloves out of my back pocket,
an afterthought that I barely allowed myself to consider, the same
way I hadn't thought about it when I'd tucked them into my pocket to
begin with. Tugging them on and the years were gone, and I was
someone I hadn't been, hadn't wanted to be, in a long time.
I ran a single, gloved finger down the curve of Heero's ass, watched
him squirm a little and I smirked, hefting the familiar light weight
of the leash in my hand for just a moment longer before I began.
Heero lurched forward on the first blow, going to his elbows, and I
stopped immediately, stepping forward and jerking him up by his
hair.
"Don't do that again," I hissed in his ear, a thrill going through
me at his slight trembling. Was he actually afraid, I wondered,
sliding my other hand down his face as I said gently, "I promise
I'll hurt you very badly if you do. Do you understand me?"
He nodded jerkily and I let go of his hair. Heero collapsed back to
his hands and knees but not without bracing himself, I saw with
approval, and I began again.
Careful, measure strikes across Heero's backside, aimed to hurt not
to mark permanently and it seemed there were a few more lessons I'd
neglected to forget about all those years ago. The proper angle of
the wrist, the exact amount of force in each blow, the neat
precision required so that every inch of skin glowed brilliantly
red, everything was as clear to me as it ever was. And Heero never
made a single fucking sound.
I hit him harder, hating him more with every stroke, hating him for
being so fucking perfect, for knowing that if it had been his
mission Hilde wouldn't be dead, I hated him, God, I hated him! For
being who and what he was, for everything I had ever been forced to
do for him...for...for...
For letting me go.
I stopped suddenly, feeling my arm ache way more than it should for
a simple discipline beating and through the strange haze that seemed
to be choking me I saw Heero's shoulders were shaking rhythmically.
The leash fell from my nerveless fingers as I moved forward to kneel
next to him, tilting his chin up with one hand.
Tears were streaming down his reddened face, slipping down to drip
off his chin, and I suddenly realized why his collar had looked so
intricate to me. There was a voice inhibiter hidden within the base
of it; Heero couldn't have screamed if I'd been killing him. Worse,
so much worse, was the fact that I couldn't even regret what I had
done, not with beautiful sight of gem-bright tears sliding down
those pretty red cheeks. Not with the prettier red cheeks of his
backside burning against my other hand as I touched him without even
realizing when I'd started.
I wiped at the tears with my thumb, and when that didn't help I
leaned forward to lick them away, tasting his eyeliner. "Beautiful,"
I murmured, nearly choking on the words but obedience like this
deserved a reward. "You're very beautiful," I said again, softly.
Heero raised his damp-lashed eyes to mine and I could have cried
myself at the soft hope shining there. And the need, the heat, oh,
God, the fucking need.
"All right," I said, hearing my voice shake and not really caring.
"All right," I repeated, senselessly, shifting to kneel behind him.
Heero lurched back against me as if he could push right through the
leather of my pants and have my cock inside him just that second. I
let him though, ground myself against him, rubbed my erection in the
cleft of his ass and moaned at the heat I could feel even through my
pants.
Fumbling with the zipper, I jerked my pants down barely past my
hips, my fingers sliding down his backside to test his opening and I
wasn't surprised that he was already loosened and slick to my touch.
Tio was never a man to leave much to chance.
With hardly a pause to position myself, I pushed inside, hard, and
Heero threw his head back in a silent scream, shoving his hips
backwards and I slapped his flank, forcing him to stop.
Hot, so hot, hotter even than his sweet little mouth, hot and tight
and fuck, I wasn't going to last long but that was all right because
he wasn't going to last long and all I could do was hammer into that
tightness, groping awkwardly around Heero's hip to find the hard
heat of his own cock, felt the sudden squeeze of muscles around me
as Heero came from that single touch and then I was coming,
helplessly, screaming, pouring into the tight clench of Heero's body
and tasting blood as bit my lip, hating him for doing this to me
again. Hating him for making me want this so Goddamned much, hating
myself for wanting this...hating myself for loving every second.
**
It seemed a little surreal to see Heero curled up on the crumpled
sheets of my bed only a few hours later. I sat in a ragged chair in
the corner, watching him sleep and wondering what the hell I was
going to do now.
Buying him hadn't been easy and that hadn't been much of a shocker.
Tio wasn't a guy who liked to give up a promising slave; I knew that
much from experience. But the proper amount of money followed by a
very proper blowjob will coax even the most adamant guy into
selling. After all, every man has a price, and Heero's had been
steep but still doable.
I ran my tongue over my teeth lightly, repulsed and horny at the
same time. I'd brushed my teeth probably ten times since we'd gotten
back here and I swore I could still taste it. That was one little
detail I was going to leave out of my report to Une, anyway. Bet
that would look good in it: Agent offers money in exchange for item.
Money is refused until Agent throws in a good cocksucking with the
deal. I'm sure Une would love that.
Heero shifted a little, sighing, and I wondered irritably how much
longer he was going to snooze away. I'd given him another dose of
Rapture myself before we'd left Mona's, enough to keep him subdued
for a little while. I hadn't been in much of a mood to go over the
mission data right then and no one on L-2 would even look twice at
someone with a slave collar on anyway.
He stirred again, blinking, and I watched him silently as he turned
over and took in his surroundings. I doubted he remembered much of
the train ride here, but with Heero Yuy, who knows? Finally, he saw
me and stopped, and we just stared at each other for a long minute,
me not wanting to speak and him not able.
What to do, what to do, isn't that the question of the day? My life
had taken a serious detour since I got Une's phone call, one that I
hadn't even dreamed about for a long time. Because I might be able
to go back in time and be someone I'd been before, but I can't
pretend that I don't know something when I do. Heero can't hide from
me anymore.
Rapture is an interesting little drug, you know. Makes it easier for
a new prostitute, yeah, takes the edge off of your inhibitions but
it doesn't make you give head like an Olympic medallist and it
doesn't make you wriggle your ass in the air like a two-bit fucktoy.
It doesn't make you need.
Heero doesn't know need. But I know someone who can teach him.
He gestured at the collar, impatience shining in those eyes that
were usually so dead of emotion, and that's one thing that Rapture
can do, strip away all the little concrete barriers that you've
walled up around yourself. No, he can't hide from me, yet.
"And what if I don't take it off?" I asked, very softly, speaking
for the first time since I'd gotten back here. "What if I just leave
it there? You know, this is legal on L-2." I had to laugh at the
shock in his eyes. Guess the superman doesn't know everything, after
all.
"Why do you think no one offered to help us during our water
crisis?" I added helpfully. "Maybe they were hoping we'd all die.
But you'll notice they don't try to stop this either. They'll
condemn prostitution to our faces and then slide in the backdoor to
taste the forbidden fruit themselves."
He was just staring at me, and maybe it was just the aftereffects of
the Rapture, but it didn't take a genius to see that Heero Yuy was
sporting a nice piece of wood all of a sudden.
"I could just phone Une up right now and tell her I never found
you," I said softly, taunting him. "Maybe she'd send someone looking
for you, but, you know, maybe she wouldn't."
I stood up, walking around the bed behind him to whisper softly in
his ear, hardly more than a breath. "What if I liked seeing you on
your knees?" He swallowed hard, and I traced his spine with one
finger, felt him shiver beneath my touch.
And then I released the lock on his collar. Heero didn't move for
what was probably the longest minute of my life and then he was on
his feet in an instant, stumbling just a little and that had to be
the Rapture. Heero just wasn't a stumble sort of guy.
He didn't even look at me, instead going over to my closet to find
himself some real clothes, and wasn't he lucky that we were pretty
close to the same size.
"I have to report in to headquarters," he said finally, his voice a
little hoarse from not speaking for God knew how long and he still
wouldn't look at me, pulling a shirt over his head.
"Sure," I said easily. "The phone is in the living room."
He started to walk out, and maybe he really thought it would be that
simple, but it was still his fault that I had a few of my own
memories dredged up for me, and I wasn't about to let him off that
easy.
"And I think you liked being there," I said, loudly, flopping back
on the bed. He stopped at the door, one of his hands tightening into
a white-knuckled fist and then he walked through without even a
thank you. Typical.
I grinned, stretching and groaning loudly as my joints popped
noisily. It was a good thing I never accumulated much junk because
L-2 wasn't going to be a good place for me to stay for a while, not
with Tio knowing I was here. Maybe it was time for me to wander back
to the Preventers, get back into the swing of things. You can't
mourn forever, you know, and it looked like I might just have a new
game to play with an old friend.
Whether he wanted to or not.
-finis-
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