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"Iron Fists "Written By: ELLE and Miss Murdered Disclaimer: If Gundam Wing was ours, there'd be ONE damned cannon kiss. All for fun, fun for all! :D Rating: NC 17 Warnings: post EW, physical violence, m/m sexual
relations, cursing, you know – the typical angsty stuff! Pairings: 1x2x1, Summary: In the world of illegal cage fighting there are no rules and only the strongest survive. It is a world that Duo has been undercover in for over a year and when the Preventers fear he may have gone rogue unexpected back up arrives... Author's Notes: Miss Murdered mentioned this little
inkling to ELLE one day and several weeks later after ELLE's desire
to get into a fight peeked, ELLE asked if they might team up and write
some delicious, sexy fight scenes. All Duo's chapters are Miss Murdered's,
all Heero's are ELLE's. Enjoy! "Iron Fists "
10. The fighters' barracks were like a completely different world to Heero now. That night he came back, reeking of sex, he was subject to all kinds of emotional reactions he wasn't expecting. Fear, from some of the less experienced fighters - and some of the more experienced ones who knew damn well they couldn't defeat him after he took down Aziz his first night. Understanding, from men who'd been there too, men who turned to another live body to hide their guilt and shame in and fuck if it was another man, it hardly seemed to matter. Anger, from men who didn't want to be bested, men who wanted to take home the biggest winnings, men who made this shit their lives and didn't need some scrawny little upstart fucking with their standings. The strangest by far was pity. The pity from men who had no other life, no choice but to fight, felt for a kid turned to violence, a kid who felt compelled to kill another kid - a kid who was clearly unequipped to handle his strength. Heero wanted to lash out at them, tell him he didn't need their fucking pity, tell those few, silent men with their sad appraising eyes that he'd killed before and he'd kill again and Wade was just a stupid fucking causality but they already knew and there was nothing he could say. Nothing he wanted to say. But it wasn't until the next day that the challenges started. Never out in the open, never where one of Kerrigan's men could see - certainly not Duo though Heero was damn sure Duo knew what was going to happen - and at first it started innocently enough. Being cut off wherever he was going - fine, Heero had the patience of a saint despite his less than pious past, he took it in stride. An intimidating glare - whatever, Heero could glare back with the best of them and never stood down from a challenge like that, never blinked or averted his eyes. A rough shove into a wall or a locker or a door - well, that Heero couldn't abide. He turned around and decked the first man who'd done it, and the second, and the third. By the third scuffle word got 'round that Heero wasn't taking that shit and things got a little more intense. Heero knew what was about to happen. He wasn't a fucking moron. Sure, he'd never been jumped in a shower before but fuck if Duo didn't surprise him more than once during a late Saturday night at HQ when they were supposed to be home, supposed to be resting with their families or whatever normal people did on normal weekends. But Heero supposed he didn't find any regret in a life where normal was fucking around in the showers at work instead of catering to a couple snotty kids. Anyway, the point was, Duo had a helluva lot more finesse than these lugs who were making a nice attempt at sneaking in on him. Heero smirked. This was going to be far too fucking easy. "Hey ass-fucker." Heero slid up his shorts and rolled his eyes at the wall. Gay insults were always his favourite amongst large packs of men. As if it somehow made a man weaker. If they wanted to try sleeping with the bloody fucking hurricane of fists and rage Duo could be when he was worked up enough, well... Good fucking luck. The thought made Heero chuckle as adrenaline started to hit his bloodstream in his anticipation of a true fight. "What's so damned funny? Think you're a fucking badass now - killed a little boy and now you're a man?" Heero turned to face his attackers. The one speaking was a guy known only as Thumper. Heero wasn't sure if that was his stage name or some weird nickname he garnered here but either way he didn't really care. He wasn't here to play nice with these guys, he was here to take down Kerrigan and get Duo the fuck out. Two other fighters flanked him, a newer guy who was still bracketed pretty low, probably sucking up to Thumper, and someone in the same class as Thumper, Blaze Something. Or Something Blaze. Whatever. Heero didn't care. Heero smirked and walked forward as if to leave, stopping when his shoulder reached the slightly taller man's. He slid his eyes menacingly across to meet Thumper's, narrowing his eyebrows slightly. Thumper squared his shoulders, glaring back, but nothing he could do would ever intimidate Heero. Because Heero didn't play games. Heero just acted. "I'll fucking kill you too," he seethed and quickly, far more quickly than Thumper was anticipating, he threw a punch right into his gut, forcing the other man to double over and back up. Before the other two could even act he was swinging his leg straight into Thumper's head, his foot hooking into his head, his force and momentum dragging his head down into the tile floor with a sharp crack. To their credit, Blaze and the rookie moved quickly to try to take Heero down but he was already moving, anticipating their moves. He blocked Blaze's punch with his left arm and threw one right to his face with his right. He felt the delicate bones in the nose shatter under his fist as the man crumpled in pain, clinging to his face as blood poured down it. Unfortunately, that let the rookie grab a fistful of his hair to drag him backward a step. Heero threw his elbows back and when he reached nothing, he swung with his fist, the palm hitting hard into his side and the rookie grunted but his grip only tightened in Heero's hair. Damned irritating he pegged the rookie as the one with the lowest potential only to have him be the biggest threat. Thumper was getting back up, seeming a bit disoriented but nevertheless still mobile, and he immediately saw the rookie struggling with Heero. His eyes were glazed with rage at being taken down so quickly and Heero saw what was about to happen. He launched towards them and Heero threw a hand out to block the first punch but his block was weak and desperate as he was yanked by his hair. He managed to block the left punch barely but the second right hook slammed into his jaw with a cruel burst of pain. Heero paused, held onto the pain for a moment then let it go, took a brief moment to assess his situation. At least Blaze was still struggling with the pain. For that he was thankful. When Thumper threw his next punch Heero was ready. Despite the pain he threw his body forward, head tucked down, and Thumper smashed his hand right into the surprised rookie's face. Heero's hair was released immediately and Heero rolled his shoulders, shoving forward and slamming into Thumper, forcing him backward into the wall. He gripped Thumper's throat with his left hand and slammed his right fist into his face once, twice, and then he heard the rookie coming and glanced over his shoulder. He threw an elbow backwards with killing force right into the rookie's face and he went down hard. Heero figured if he wasn't dead from his sinus cavity collapsing, he was at least completely incapacitated for the next few hours. When his eyes turned back to Thumper he realized the man had gone slack and he saw real, genuine fear in his eyes but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He was committed to this course of action and fuck if fear wasn't exactly what he was going for. He threw another punch. Saw the other man's eyes roll in his head. Craned back his hand for one more hit to knock him out when the door slammed open and one of Kerrigan's men was shouting at him to stop. He glanced to him, then glanced back at Thumper, then let his hand drop, throwing Thumper to the ground by his neck. "What the goddamned fuck is going on here?!" Kerrigan's men were used to walking into scuffles. They weren't used to walking into murder scenes. "Nobody fucks with me," Heero stated simply as he stepped forward confrontationally. "Fuck man," the guy bitched and shook his head in frustration. "Why the fuck you gotta do me like this? What am I supposed to fuckin' do with this shit? God fucking damn it!" He made a series of guttural grunts and groans as his eyes assessed the situation and his brain tried to supply him with a decent course of action. "Well, you have to come with me. Kerrigan wants to see you." Heero shrugged and followed him out. The guy called to the first person he saw to go get medical attention in the showers and after a no-nonsense glare the man complied. He was led back to the small office of Kerrigan's and once inside the goon practically exploded as he explained the scene he'd walked into in the showers. Kerrigan listened to the accusations, nodded his head, and then told the guy to leave. He was suitably pissed but couldn't really argue. Once he was gone and the door was shut, Kerrigan's cool eyes were pinned straight on Heero. It was a look Heero often used himself. Appraising. Assessing. Surely noting the swelling bruise on his cheek. Noting the look of nothing in his eyes. "What happened?" "If I'm going to get fucking jumped in the showers then I'm going to defend myself." Kerrigan studied him, his lack of apology, his lack of all emotion over beating the shit out of men for no money, no fame, no ulterior motive than his fists pounding into flesh. He had absolutely no respect for the other fighters. "But you weren't defending yourself. You weren't just teaching them a lesson." "It was a defence - just not against them." Heero's voice was cold, devoid of all emotion. "If they died, it would teach everyone a lesson." Kerrigan clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair, running a finger along a scar across his cheek thoughtfully. "You were a solider?" "I was the best solider." No hesitation. Absolute self-confidence. "And you're here, why? For cash?" Heero shook his head. "Can't find a better job?" Heero shook his head. "Because this is what you're good at." Heero hesitated. It was what he was good at, but that wasn't why. "Then what do you want?" Heero chose his words carefully. He felt honesty was important with Kerrigan. He thought he could tell if he were to lie. "Something you can never give me. Someone I can never possess. This is... a means to an end." "A way to forget." Kerrigan hummed thoughtfully. "A way to lose yourself in what you're good at." Then Heero decided to press his advantage before Kerrigan could speculate any further. "I don't want to be pitted against rookies any more," he stated as if he had a choice. "Wade was a mistake. A waste of my time." Kerrigan chuckled. "Good." He turned his head aside to study Heero thoughtfully. "Wade was a test." "I passed." Unconditional confidence. Always confidence. "You did. But I would like you not to fucking kill everyone before you face them in the cage," Kerrigan warned. Heero nodded. He understood. It wasn't profitable to lose fighters to petty infighting. "Has Milliardo told you why he brought you here?" Heero shook his head curtly. They only discussed it from a Preventer's perspective. If Kerrigan suspected that Milliardo wouldn't tell him, there had to be a reason for that suspicion, so it was perfectly reasonable to admit his ignorance and try to get some information out of Kerrigan with an explanation. "I have a little operation going for select, special guests," Kerrigan started and Heero studied him with oblique disinterest as he spoke, although he secretly felt the rush of success he and fully anticipated feeling. It didn't minimize Wade's death - no. It was justified. Wade would help bring Kerrigan down. Wade would help prevent more poor fucks from winding up with his fate. "These fights take place on Fridays and only the most elite of my fighters get the chance to compete. But there is one caveat," Kerrigan's brows furrowed as his scrutiny increased. "These fights are to the death." Heero knew what was coming and didn't flinch. Instead his face contorted into a frown. "There's no one I can't kill." The smile that slipped unfettered across Kerrigan's face made even Heero's iron stomach churn with disgust. Kerrigan loved this. He fucking loved this. Despite his own personal experience to the contrary, Heero wanted to believe in a future free of death and violence and destruction. He desperately wanted to believe in Relena's view of the world. And when he was with her, sitting next to her, listening to her recite a speech or talk to a diplomat, he believed her - hook, line and fucking sinker. He believed her just the way those politicians did. He looked into those soft blue eyes and melted under her idealism, her kind words, her resolute faith in humanity. Even when Duo left again, left him alone, left him to deal with a total absence of the only home he ever knew - tucked away in the other man's wayfaring heart - Relena was there with her faith. And he let himself believe - believe in her notions, her optimism. Believe in her conviction that Duo would come back, that Duo did love him. Believe in everything she said as she tried to help carry his burden. But now he was here. And his belief was in jeopardy. And he realized some part of humanity was always going to want to fucking rip each other's guts out. Always going to want to kill and maim and hurt. Always going to find a way to create a war - even a pathetic, artificial farce of a war on this shit hole colony, forced to the outer dregs of civilization because humanity had said enough was enough and they didn't want any goddamned war any more. And if Relena was wrong about that - Relena with her unwavering belief - then was she wrong about Duo, too...? It didn't matter. No resolution could come here. Heero had to stick to the plan. Heero had to get them out of here, get Duo out of this rotting hunk of junk, and bring him home. Home to where he could share his own heart openly and wrap him so tightly inside of it he would never leave again because if he did he would risk breaking it and Duo could never - But no. He refused to wonder over whether Duo would willingly break his heart or not. He didn't doubt Duo. He wouldn't doubt Duo. The small voice inside him knew the truth though. It wasn't that he didn't doubt him, it wasn't that wouldn't - it was that he couldn't. Couldn't because if he doubted Duo than the illusion was shattered. Then he may as well live this life in the cage, or the one in the bunker, or the one in which he blows his fucking brains out because if Duo, the man who saved him from himself, the man who taught him how to live in a post-war world, would willing do that to him... His understanding of the whole goddamned world would be a lie. So instead he met that smile with a blank stare of imperturbable acceptance. "Good." And with that one word, he was in.
Chapter 11 |
