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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 "
5. Duo slammed the metallic door of locker room with more force than necessary and made his way across the spectator area, an obviously pissed expression on his face. A few glances in his direction but most people let him go by without notice. The fights were going to start in half an hour and the fighters and gang members had better shit to be dealing with than one irate trainer. Kerrigan would have better shit to do for that matter but right now Duo didn't fucking care. The rolling anger of the last few days was not good for him - the torturous time he'd spent around Heero and the damn knowing that all was not right with him and the stupid attempt he was making to get Wade back up to something resembling fighting form all had made him pissed. And now there was this. He'd only wanted to see the board. Only wanted to know who Wade was fighting. Heero could fight whoever the fuck Kerrigan wanted him to - Duo had little concern about him but Wade was too damn injured to be fighting and his wrist wasn't quite right and his stitches were too obvious and it was all like letting a lamb go to the fucking slaughter. And then he'd talked to Colton. The tablet had the list on and on one glance down at it... Duo felt his stomach clench and his mood take a dramatic turn for the worst. Damn. Kerrigan was fucking heartless as he read the words. Heero "The Iron Fist" versus Wade "The Farm Boy" - W Next to the words sat the letter that made him even more pissed - the capital W at the side in red and bold. He hadn't trained Wade for a weapons fight - hadn't got that far with him being that Wade was a kid and as green as they came and weapons fights were special occasions. Kerrigan told people when it was weapons night. Got everyone excited. Got the tension rolling off everyone in waves - meant there was a guarantee of gore and blood and broken bones and teeth. The crowds loved it. Some of the fighters did too. Knew Heero wouldn't have a problem with it - probably could make anything into a weapon but there was that feeling in the pit of his stomach that Heero maybe didn't know - didn't remember, maybe - when he had to stop and putting him up against Wade who was weak anyway seemed brutal. Wade, the kid who didn't even have a tough name - the Farm Boy versus the Iron Fist, the kid versus a man who'd been trained to kill since childhood. Duo didn't want to doubt Heero, not in any way, as relationships - even fucked up and complicated ones - were built on trust and not fucking doubting the one you're with but Heero was as cold as he could remember him being and Duo couldn't get him alone. Needed to get him alone and not for five minutes for a cold hard fuck - needed to look into his eyes and get something back and talk and not be all about aggression and fighting and violence. Just needed to touch him gently, run his fingers over his face, down his sides and remember what they could be like together. How, while they were never normal, they had something that meant that they always had the other to go back to. They had blind faith. They had trust. And now Duo doubted Heero. Doubting when Heero hadn't doubted him - didn't question that he wouldn't have gone rogue. Kerrigan was in the VIP bar area suspended above the cage as there were those rumours again, damn rumours, that someone important was visiting and really Duo should be thinking about the mission and thinking that this someone important could give him some intel that might help him. The intel, the in and the death fights and the rich and powerful who liked to watch people die is what he should be focusing on but the whole blindside of Heero had totally fucked up his focus in this shithole. And right now, he wasn't thinking - just thinking that Wade was fucked and Heero was too strong for the kid and this was something he was not willing to stand by and watch. There was nothing worse than watching an unfair fight. Maybe the fucking guest was a sadist who enjoyed the whole idea of seeing people being beaten death with a pipe or a crowbar or a brick or cut up with a switchblade. His own shoulder blade was sliced in half by a switchblade as he dived away from Javez the Juggernaut in a weapons fight. Lost that one, he thought, bitterly, bleeding too much from his shoulder and a cut above his eye and couldn't see and couldn't do much as Javez had reach and he was cut too deep. Duo hated the weapons fights. Too much blood. A step too far. He barged his way through the crowd. It was early still, music blaring and people arriving and first drinks being consumed but he didn't look at the crowd like he usually did. Didn't try and see the mood or the type of lowlifes around him as he arrived at the stairs and the two grunts let him past. Kerrigan was sitting at a table near the edge, the prime location for viewing and the only seating in the whole damn place. His back was turned, his body obscuring his "guest" and Duo just started talking. Right now, the whole notion of deference to the boss was lost and quite frankly, he didn't give a shit. He'd done this to Une - stormed into her office and made a scene and justified his psyche evals about his "temperamental" personality and his "issues" with authority. Made him a hero among fellow Preventer agents as the notorious ball breaker was not exactly popular with the rank and file agents and many had their shit with her. Duo included. "I've seen the board - no fucking way is Wade -" He started his rant but it was stalled by a wave of the hand as Kerrigan turned to look at him and his eyes drifted from Kerrigan to the man on his left and a familiar head of ice blonde hair. Zechs Merquise or whatever the fuck he was going by these days. Milliardo fucking Peacecraft. The Lightening Count. Agent Wind. The cunt had too many names and considering Duo had never really had claim to one it always seemed like a stroke of narcissism or greed to have that many ways to refer to one damn person. Duo's eyes narrowed at the man, all that long blonde hair and height and piercing eyes - Milliardo, Agent Wind, whatever - and tried not to react with hostility. Like most people who'd fought against White Fang, against the whole idea of dropping Libra onto earth and killing a shit load of people, and especially a Gundam pilot who who'd spent what he thought might be his last moments destroying bits of Libra - Milliardo's return to the Preventers had been one that had riled. The fact he had walked back in, not once, but twice, damn it, and the second time returned to a position of authority was grating. That all could be forgotten. Yeah, Duo knew that he'd done his share of shit during the war and killed countless people but he hadn't gone bat shit crazy and threatened to destroy the earth. Plus he was a lowly agent, a huge personnel file of all his faults and all his psyche evals and then there was the vague feeling that Duo had, always had, that there was only one real reason they let people like him and Heero into the Preventers. Duo always thought they wanted them because it was safer that way - could keep tabs on them. Keep them under close watch. Ensure they weren't plotting some diabolical terrorist scheme. There was no other way they were suitable agents and would've been recruited if they were ordinary Joes. Heero was a walking time bomb and Duo knew he wasn't much better. He'd have become a hardened criminal if he'd remained on L2 - drug dealer, gun runner, gang banger, murderer, thief - those were his great career options. International terrorist had been one rung up the ladder. And Milliardo had come back from Mars - minus Noin - and everyone had speculated and rumoured and wondered what made him come back but he'd just walked into Une's office and got a job as some kind of supervisor or something of field agents and that was that. Higher salary. Corner office. Not subjected to psychologists and extensive medical examinations. Seemed the one way to get ahead in the Preventers was to have fucked Treize Khushrenada. Duo had only seen, Zechs, Milliardo - whatever - a few times, a few times around HQ and at compulsory functions but only really talked to him once. At one of those soirees of the Princess' that Heero had made him attend as Heero always felt so damn obligated to her and so Duo went with him and stayed around the edges of the room and tried not to look sour as Relena wanted Heero on her arm all night and somehow, for some, stupid fucking reason, Heero would do that for her. Let her. And that's when he'd first met Milliardo Peacecraft. "You're the one fucking Yuy." For an opening line, it had been impressive and perhaps intended to be insulting but Duo just smirked. "You'd prefer him to fuck your sister?" "Touché." That was the only time they'd spoken, a million miles from a banged up colony on the edge of a cluster, it had been a Sanc ballroom, champagne on silver trays and not the sweat and grime of the place they were in now. "This is one of our trainers," Kerrigan said smoothly. "You may remember him from the cages..." Milliardo stood and reached out his hand in some version of mock civility. It was out of place for the world they were in now and Duo didn't return the favour, keeping his arms at his sides, hands balled into fists looking at him with suspicion that wasn't entirely out of a place for a low ranking lackey in a criminal gang. "I don't shake hands." "Duo... play nice... this man is Milliardo Peacecraft and a significant benefactor of our little operation." Grudgingly, Duo took the offered hand and noted the use of the name - his actual name - and wondered what the fuck was going on. It didn't make sense for him to be here in Preventer capacity when they had him. They'd sent Heero, damn it. They didn't need a third Preventer as that would compromise the whole thing. And that could mean only one other option. That the guy was crooked or just damn near wanted to see the poor and hopeless beat the shit out of each other. They weren't cheery thoughts. "I saw you fight once... you were quite impressive. The Demon, was it? I think that was quite, appropriate, was is not?" There was a look in those pale blue eyes that implied more - the reference to the shadow of Deathscythe and when Duo had been pilot 02 to OZ and fuck all more. Thorn in their side. His side. Merquise or Peacecraft or whoever the fuck he was meant to be now. Milliardo held his hand a little longer than needed and Duo couldn't tell if he was trying to communicate something and shit if he knew what it was. He released his hand and Duo returned it to his side, briefly swiping it against black denim as Milliardo sat back alongside Kerrigan. "I didn't pick my name." "Well... with your style it suited you." The word style was drawn out and if Kerrigan figured there was something more happening here, more in the implied words and the looks between the pair and Duo's open hostility, he did not betray it. Duo figured style could be the black he clung to like a second skin or the braid or the tattoos or it could be the fact that in his time in the cages he'd had no damn style - been like a demon, he guessed, or that's what someone had said and thus his name was born. Ironic, really, that he was named independently of his past as the pilot of a Gundam that looked like the Grim Reaper. Kerrigan motioned towards the bar to request another drink and then looked closely at Duo. "The board stays as it is... I wanted something, special, for my guest and we ain't had a weapons fight in some time... so I figured your boys were more than capable." "Heero is. Wade ain't. It's not a fair match up." The laugh that answered his protest was cold and chilling. "I thought you'd have learnt that life ain't fair by now." The noise of the first fight announcement and the countdown to the first bout was heard over the PA as drinks were delivered to the circular table. "Join us and watch... I'm sure you'll get a better view than down by the cages. You know how the crowd gets during weapons fights." Duo gritted his teeth, grinding his jaw. Knew how it got - people baying for blood, more so than usual and it was all so nasty and depraved. His gaze flashed back to Milliardo who was taking a sip of his drink without any indication of anything beyond mild curiosity and Duo felt his shoulders slump ever so slightly in defeat. "I gotta talk to my boys." He turned to the stairs and stopped as Kerrigan spoke, looking back over his shoulder. "Tell Wade good luck." The words were harsh and it hit Duo that Kerrigan wanted this - an unfair match, a weapons fight when the kid wasn't fucking ready and against an opponent who outclassed him totally and then another thought hit him like a punch to the gut. Kerrigan probably had watched Heero - seen him in the gym and realised the lethal potential in that body. Did he want this to be a fight to the death? A little preview for the important guest or some shit? It all felt wrong. Bad. Fuck. The crowd had built up in the bar area even in the short period of time Duo had been in the box. People were getting prime locations and the board and odds were brightly showing on a large screen on one wall - the bookies getting their first bets in as a current of electricity seemed to be running through the air. Weapons fights. Always brought out the worst in everyone involved - the crowd, the gang, the fighters. Wade was in the "red" locker room. The two locker rooms of the opposing fighters were separated by little distance but the red locker room had an atmosphere that clung to the skin - all perspiration and anxiety and unleashed violence. Wade knew his opponent by now. Colton had pasted it up - a paper copy written in jerky block capitals and the large W's next to those fights that included weapons. It seemed to be randomly selected - not every fight was weapons to break up the entertainment, to make the bloody, damn near brutal fights more impressive in the cage when alongside those tame fist fights. Funny to think of the fist fights as less brutal. The kid looked nervy, more so than before his first fight, his baggy shorts seemed ill fitting and the kid had gone for a tight tank over his pale chest hiding some of those bruises from his first bout. Also from Heero's fists in the training. From Duo's fists. He'd not babied Wade this week - tried to lift his spirits maybe, tried to make him act like a real fighter and real fighters got back up and fought back. "Never back down. You can be down but not out, understand, kid?" He'd said it over and over again. Down but not out. Like some cliché. And now he had no advice that was worth shit. Knew a little how to beat Heero from his own experience but then a lot of that advice was dependent on a fight leading to fucking and how a light touch and a tongue over the collarbone, the biting of skin, the flick of a nipple and a hand on a hardening dick could work as a distraction to get the upper hand. Most of his advice was fucking useless. Then some of it wasn't - as the only way to get around Heero and his training and his damn precision was to be completely and totally unexpected. Cheap shots. Dirty tactics. Unfair fight. No flair and no attempt to play nice. It was the only damn advice Duo could give. "I ain't gonna win," Wade said. "You don't have to, kiddo, just give 'em hell." Wade's eyes looked wide. Duo was close enough to see the freckles on his pale skin and he looked every inch the farm boy he'd been nicknamed. A name that said cannon fodder. "You've fought Heero this week... you just gotta do unexpected shit. Hit him in the face. Go for the groin. Do what the fuck you have to do. Don't play fair. Fight dirty, kiddo. Only chance you got." He attempted to be reassuring but it was weird to be telling Wade how to fight Heero and even as he was talking he knew his advice was worth shit - Heero had schooled Duo in the gym, made all his training and fighting and honing of his body in their time apart seem worthless when he still could dominate. Yeah, it was no longer as damn easy for him but still, Heero could beat him and even with dirty tactics, Wade had no chance. Colton came in and with a heavy realisation, Wade knew it was his turn. "Dead man walking," said one of the fighters to a chorus of sniggers. Duo spun to see who had said shit, knowing the fighters and their opinions and their attitudes but he had no time to lash out on Wade's behalf. Plus the kid was fucked. Heero couldn't go easy on the kid - had to be a fighter for cover, had to want it and want the glory and guts and cash. Wade walked out and Duo followed only to detour to the "blue" locker room, bypassing Colton to try to speak to Heero before this went down. Heero had already left the locker room and was about to make his way towards the cage when Duo stopped him, noting the hard, calculating look in those blue eyes as they traversed the venue, the large crowd, took in the stench and density of the air. Duo wrapped his hand tightly around Heero's wrist feeling fabric rather than skin, the touch, the brief moment of contact making Heero jolt and his eyes meet Duo's own. He needed to be able to do something more than that, give him some moment of comfort, jog some memory in his brain of who they were together, who they could be in those quiet moments when their kisses were gentle and bruising force wasn't necessary. Needed to remind him what it was like to feel. But he couldn't. He could only offer some stupid ass words Heero probably wouldn't hear anyway. "Don't kill him. Be careful. He's weak. You know this. Just stop, yanno?" he said, quietly. There was a flash in Heero's eyes that betrayed emotions but it was too brief and the room was too full and the sound of the announcement was ringing and there was nothing left to say. Duo felt more words cling to the back of his throat and felt somewhere that this was a damn betrayal, that he should have faith in Heero that he knew the line and he knew that Wade was fucked - but it was too late. He'd said it now. And his fingers started to slip away, the moment of warmth through the wraps gone, and Heero was walking out as he should and Duo could only sit back and watch the fight from behind mesh.
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