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"Wicked Game "Written By: Miss Murdered Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters - am
just borrowing to torment for my amusement Rating: NC 17 Warnings: m/m sex, angst, bad language, implied
drug use, cheating, some violence of the not too explicit variety Pairings: 2x3x2 Summary: Trowa knows that he risks everything playing a dangerous game with Duo. He just wishes he knew how to quit it. A/N: Apologies for an extra update from me this week as today is one of my good friends, Amberly's, birthday and I promised her a little 2x3 fic. However… I wrote her a little 2x3 one-shot that then became a 5 part multipart. So happy birthday Amberly! And thanks to ELLE
for her super speedy beta-ing as this got out of hand… *shakes
head at muse*
"Wicked Game " Chapter Five Give Me All of It The glass elevator overlooks the city and as I ascend
I see the sprawl of the city of Shanghai illuminated by the lights
of skyscrapers. It feels exposed but I know no one can see me, the
lighting off, the security cameras jammed, and all internal and external
lines of communication down in the headquarters of Yeung Enterprises.
I'm dressed in black ops gear, Kevlar over my chest, though I don't
expect much resistance. I know there are bodyguards but I don't anticipate
them being an issue – my body, my knife, my reflexes honed as
I've been doing this too damn long not to be one of the best. It's been years since I was a Preventer, years since
I saw him last and I sometimes forget that life. Our apartment on
L3, the place where I threw what belongings I gave a damn about into
a duffle and left – leaving my gun, my badge, my uniform and
all traces of my past. So I could walk once again nameless through
airports and spaceports, bus stations and train terminals, travelling
around from job to job, working in cash and fake passports. It was just as long since I'd seen you, though I thought
about you more – thought about if I'd said yes and where we would
be now. Whether I'd be with you still or if you'd have gotten bored
of me. I had fleeting affairs, quick fucks, but I still dreamt of
you, thought about where you damn were but now with no way to find
me, we were both ghosts, nameless identities, and we'd never damn
find each other again. The elevator stops at the top floor and it chimes loudly.
I curse, knowing that the noise would likely draw Yeung's bodyguards
and I reach for my knife, my preferred weapon of choice for infiltration.
I walk slowly out, each careful foot in front of the other. And then
I spot a pair of feet, the shiny expensive loafers sticking out in
the air, and I step closer to see the body sprawled, a thin trail
of blood from a slash to the throat. Quick. Silent. My eyes narrow and I take it in, remember the blueprints
of the top floor of Yeung Enterprises HQ and continue my path, walking
slowly over plush carpeting in the darkness, coming across another
body, this time on his front and I kick it over to see the blood staining
a white shirt, the entry wound accurately in the heart. I look up,
raise my blade and continue along the corridor, passing doors to conference
rooms and other executive's offices. There's another body as I reach
the door to Yeung's office and the corpse keeps the door opened a
little, an arm damn jamming it. I glance down to see another perfect
execution and step over the dead man, avoiding stepping on his flesh,
and I push through the door into the darkened office. As soon as I'm in, I sense the attack – yet it
is quick, quicker than even my reflexes anticipate. I feel the hand
swipe at the back of my neck as I duck, a glancing blow across my
shoulders, hard, hard enough to take me to the ground. I use the momentum
to swipe my legs around, to take the feet from my assailant and they
are on the floor too as I spring to attack, straddling the man and
bringing out my blade, glinting in the low light of the office. "Trowa?" The voice is disbelieving, as disbelieving as my murmured
response as I feel you underneath me for the first time in two fucking
years and you have a gun in your hand and there's a knife in mine. Your name feels weird on my tongue, I haven't said it
in so damn long, even when I thought about you, even when I jerked
off remembering your lips, your hair, hands, every damn scar and every
cocky grin. I never said it when I imagined it was you – when
I was with someone, anyone, anonymous sex in cities across the earth
sphere that I wanted to be you – and I didn't say your name when
I came, even when a part of me damn wanted to. I hadn't said it in
so fucking long. "Duo," I breathe. Instinct kicks in. One of us, both of us, I don't fucking
know but there is no question as our lips press together, the blade
dropping from my hand, the gun from yours. I don't think about whether
the room is secure as its you and there will be nothing left
to chance and instead, I kiss you like I thought about alone, our
tongues warring, our teeth clashing, our noses bumping – years
and adrenalin making it impatient and perfect in its own damn way. There's a cough and I release your mouth reluctantly,
sit back up and look to where Yeung is strapped to a chair, to see
another bodyguard sprawled across the floor. "You interrupted," you say and I move to stand,
offering you a hand and pulling you towards me for another lingering
kiss, unable to stop the rush of having you close, of your skin, your
lips, wrapping my hand around your braid. You push away from me, separating from me, and you give
me that smirk that I still dreamt about. "Guess you found a new
occupation?" You laugh and my heart skips a beat. "Yeah, I heard
that somewhere too… Who hired you?" you ask and then shake
your head, murmuring something that sounds like 'it doesn't matter'
in low tones and you cock your head, point your gun at the guy who
looks between us in horror. "You wanna split this cash? One of
us claim it?" "Generous since you did all the work," I retort
and you chuckle. "What can I say? I'm a generous guy." Your
hand touches mine and then I realise you're handing me the gun. "Plus,
I'll let ya finish it and all." I raise the gun, feeling little about the man in front
of me, knowing his criminal dealings, knowing his investment in weapons,
knowing his attempts to discredit Quatre and WEI and I shoot point
blank in the head, the kill efficient to show the mark of a professional.
You are already starting to walk away as I turn to give you back the
gun and I watch the way you move, the tight black gear, the way your
braid is a little bit longer than before. I try to think of all the
questions I want to ask but instead you look over your shoulder, smile. "The offer still stands, Trowa." And this time I accept and follow you as I wish I'd
done years ago. |
