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"Sharpest Lives"Written By: Miss Murdered Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing – just
enjoy playing with the characters far too much Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, yaoi, m/m sexual relations of the
lemon variety, as near as a series of PWP as I can get (which is not
*that* near), bad language, violence, angst, sap, creative license
regarding law Pairings: 1x2x1 Summary: Heero and Duo are criminals travelling and committing crimes to escape their pasts and build a future over the Mexican border. A story of young love, sex and crime in a series of connected one-shots. This fic is a series of one-shots so they do not
feature direct continuity and were meant to be smutty and fun but
kinda transformed into something a bit more complicated as I wrote
them… The title is taken from the My Chemical Romance
song Sharpest Lives and each chapter is inspired by a particular song
(though I guess you all know that by now!) As always, this fic was beta-d by ELLE and it
is all down to her encouragement that a 5000 word one-shot morphed
into the 30k fic that it is today. " Sharpest Lives" Part One
Duo noticed that he was looking at the bills too closely
and brought up a fact about how ninety percent of bills had traces
of cocaine on them – a fact that Heero was not so sure was true
but Duo had said it with a smile, put a hand on the small of his back
to ease that tension and the guy behind the desk nodded. Heard that
too, he said, like they were co-conspirators, and asked if they were
interested in something as there was a guy who lived permanently in
room 104 and he had good shit. Heero only shook his head at how the
potentially awkward situation had been diffused and the two keys were
handed over and the guy returned to some reruns of old baseball games
on ESPN Classic. Duo waved and said thanks for tip – being overly
friendly as always – supposed it worked. Not that they needed
any good shit. The booze and the money and the mounting tension since
knocking over the convenience store would be enough tonight. Heero moved from the dirty window to the bathroom. Turned
on the light and expected cockroaches to move. None did but it wasn't
the cleanest. They didn't do hotels with maid service. Did weekly
places, all cash, or hourly places, all cash or sleeping in the latest
car they stole or bought with stolen money. They dropped cars, burnt
them sometimes just to watch them go up, making out and drinking as
they burnt. He left the bathroom, walked over to one of the double
beds where the duffle of cash was, the gun sitting on top of it –
newly acquired. They'd not used a gun at first. Knives to the throat.
Picking old diners at closing without anyone around or old gas stations
not taken over by Exxon or Shell with one solitary employee. He'd
never been afraid of guns – knew how to shoot one and seen the
extreme violence of a shot to the head. But they'd not used them until
this last robbery. Guns were traceable. Bullets were. The point of the
constant movement, shit motels and burning and dumping vehicles was
that they were not traceable so that they could continue their small
time crimes and dream of Mexico. The sound of the lock put Heero back on alert. Duo was
too relaxed but he knew he overcompensated by being far too cautious
– but then there were times he just lost it. Encouraged by a
wild look in blue eyes and hands that pulled him close in the middle
of what they were doing – kissing him hard as the employees were
bound in duct tape or hardware store rope and cash registers were
already emptied and thrown to the floor. He went for the gun, the
cool metal of it, remembering how it felt to be fired for the first
time in a heist. Odin had taught him with tin cans. A cheap version
of hunting in a city and he knew the correct posture but he'd never
used a gun apart from that. He'd wanted to at thirteen when the local
mob caught up with Odin, made to watch the bullet go into his head
– left alone then. His mother long gone and the man who may or
may not have been his father bloody on the floor. Managed to avoid
foster care and the system for a year through the invaluable hacking
skills until he'd beaten that kid and the principle had wanted to
see his father… all came out then. And he'd been alone. Forced
between homes until he'd inevitably ended up in juvie and then not
alone. Not since then. Not since Duo. The door opened and Duo walked in, locking it behind
him, pulling the metal chain across it and carrying the supplies he'd
gone to get. The heat in the room seemed to rise as Heero watched
him walk. "Hey, you were really gonna shoot me?" Heero hadn't realised he was still holding the gun so
he put it down on the bed and watched as snacks of the sweet, unhealthy
and salty kind were put on the circular table – nothing healthy
but then if he'd wanted anything that wouldn't rot his teeth or clog
his arteries he'd have had to go. "Have to be careful," he answered. That store had a security camera. He'd shot it out but
maybe it had recorded their images long enough for them to be recognisable.
Should tell Duo to get rid of the braid – all that easy to recognise
hair – but he'd seen that image of a three year old little boy
holding onto a junkie mother with a braid and knew he wouldn't do
it. Neither would Heero make him – as Duo moved closer, taking
long slow strides across the worn carpet, t-shirt riding ever so slightly
upwards as he did, the ripped old jeans far too low slung and those
thrift store t-shirts thin and tight but Heero didn't complain as
he reached out for the braid and the body he wanted. "Yeah but we're one state over and there's been
nothin' on the news yet… just chill, 'Ro. You worry far too much…" Duo nipped at his ear, a tongue darting out and he felt
the roughness of it against his skin – he felt like Duo had been
teasing him all day – since they'd left another town and during
their robbery with the kiss that seemed gratuitous and stupid but
irresistible and in the car, swigging on the stolen Jack Daniels and
working the top of the bottle in his mouth with a slight hint of tease.
Then there had been the fucking Tootsie Pop he'd swiped for no other
reason than Heero's personal torment as he'd driven. It had been a
relief for him to fall asleep – cross state lines and find the
first shitty enough motel as now he could do what he'd wanted to do. The heat in the room rose a little more as Heero's hand
went to the back pocket of black jeans, pushing him close, totally
flush and their scorching hot bodies making contact that was beyond
lust, and the other hand went to the back of Duo's head, pulling at
the braid and forcing their lips to meet. A little crime always made them horny. There was a rush to this kiss. Heero would make it up
to him later, be gentler or just not rush it but the tease had been
too much and there was the high from getting the cash and using the
gun and it all made him want Duo now – though Duo didn't seem
to be reluctant. Despite the hint of aggression, the way that Heero
forced his tongue deep into his mouth, Duo opened his wide, his own
tongue entwining, tilting his head to allow the kiss to be ripped
from him. Heero's hand moved from the back pocket of the jeans and
ran up to the small of the back, the firm muscles rippling and pushing
the t-shirt up. He felt Duo's hands making their own explorations
and Heero couldn't help the muted moan when he touched the front of
the pale blue jeans, rubbing over where his dick began to become painful
against the restricting fabric. This moment of surprise proved that
the young man in his arms was his fucking equal even as he tried to
maintain some control and he felt himself be pushed forward towards
the bed, the back of his legs meeting it and he sat on the edge. Duo
followed him, his legs on either side of his, straddling him and his
lips left Heero's – allowing him a moment to rake his teeth down
his throat. "Fuck," he heard Duo breathe and Heero felt
a level of satisfaction. Gentle would be for later. Not now and there had always
been something about marking him that was an unbelievable turn on
– that this fierce, violent and dangerous young man was his
and he was the one fucking him. He intended to bite down but he felt
a hand on his jaw, forceful and then Duo made him to look up into
lust filled blue eyes. "Did it turn you on today?" Heero blinked and decided right now was not the time
for that question considering he had a raging hard on and that evidence
was against Duo's own ass. "You turn me on," he said and tried to pull
Duo's head back down for another heated kiss but it was blocked. "I ain't asking you that as I know I do,"
he said, the teasing back as he ground his hips downwards against
Heero's and it was hard to concentrate on anything but the burning
need in his jeans and the hot, hard body pressed against his. "Did
this turn you on?" The gun was in Duo's hand and Heero had no idea how
he had it. They were on the bed with the duffle, the money but Heero
had been concentrating on the body and Duo was fucking crafty. Made
him a better thief – it was him that had shown him to get around
the security at the Noventa house and got them a supply of jewellery
that they'd had to fence at much lower prices than it was worth. But
there was something exciting about breaking into a rich persons home
and fucking on the bed while a party went on downstairs and they could
walk away without repercussions and have a couple of thousand dollars'
worth of sparklers. All by just flirting with a lonely little rich
girl – Duo always had an angle. "It's not a toy," Heero said. He rolled his eyes in response. "I know that, babe…
I'm just having a lil fun…" Heero sometimes worried about his lover's idea of fun
as he felt the barrel against his chest in a close approximation of
where his heart would be – the cold metal against hot skin even
through the material of the t-shirt. Duo moved it in a slow circle
over his chest, to nipples, the cold being pleasurable on his overheated
skin. He didn't want to think whether it was a turn on – there
had always been something about their crimes, about the danger and
living close to the edge and the life perched on the edge of a knife
blade that was so fucking exciting. They were always too close to
the edge – that they could fuck up and be caught and end up in
jail. And they swore they never would end up jail. They'd take suicide by cop rather than be separated – Heero had promised that to Duo when they started this – promised it when he'd stood over his hospital bed when he'd been beaten within an inch of his life before the cash and the violence and the heists. They'd never be separated. Never be apart. Always them against the world. Maybe nineteen was a little young to promise that but fuck if he cared. Fuck if he wanted anyone else. "Stop." Heero grabbed the wrist holding the gun, tight, tight
enough to hurt but Duo didn't give indication of the pain, the cool
metal slipping from his fingers and falling towards the floor. He
released the wrist, conscious that he could've left bruises and looked
up into blue eyes. "Stop teasing me," he said. He received a cocky smirk in response but Heero leaned
upwards, wiping that smirk off his face with a tongue across the lips
and then delving into that mouth, claiming, possessing. Duo's body
responded, creating friction, heating up, burning like it always did. His fingers finally touched Duo like he'd wanted all
day, sliding up the soft material of t-shirt, scraping nails down
sides, up to erect nipples and down across firm abdominal muscles
that fluttered under his fingers. He left those lips, taking the bottom
lip with his teeth before releasing it and pushed up the fabric, Duo
moving his arms, aiding in its removal and for a second it stalled
the intense passion. Still made him pissed when he saw the scars scattered
across Duo's chest – still hated to see them and for a second
he just leaned his head against his shoulder, breathing him in –
breathing in that scent and remembering how he thought he was watching
him die. "Heero." He heard the voice, none of the joking, none of the
sarcasm and humour – a gentle, hell, maybe loving tone. Then
there was movement and it took him a second to realise the intention
of his lover, who slid down between his legs, pushing them apart firmly
and he felt the movement of a button being popped and a zipper being
pulled downwards. "Duo…" he murmured, unable to help his
name slipping out as a skilled hand sought out his hard cock and tugged
it out of boxers and jeans. Their eyes met and Heero could tell him that he didn't
need it right now, that they should fuck instead, but he was nineteen
and he had a willing fuckable guy offering to suck him off and he
wasn't going to deny him fucking anything. He could have all the cash,
the gun as long as that tongue – that flicked out, swiping the
tip, making him shudder – and that mouth went down on him. He
leaned back on the bed, on his elbows, and let Duo do whatever he
wanted. Seen the techniques today on the Tootsie Pop, on the tip of
the Jack Daniels bottle and now on his dick as a tongue swirled round
the head, and then a mouth sucked the tip, barely daring to look down
as the technique changed and he felt lips take more, a hand at the
base, another on his thigh, gripping into flesh through denim. "Shit…" He couldn't stop the moan, the incoherent words, looking
up at the cracked motel ceiling rather than Duo, head between his
legs, head bobbing, alternating between tongue and a the tiniest hint
of teeth, and then taking his cock in further than he thought possible.
Bypassing gag reflexes and he felt the swallowing around his dick,
tried to still his hips and not make the instinctual movement as he
felt the white hot feeling building and he made a noise to warn Duo
and then it was fucking it. He was coming hard and that mouth was
still hot around him. "Don't think about any of that shit," Duo
said, "we're ain't there anymore and ain't nobody gonna hurt
us." No, those thugs were cities away, states away, miles
away, in the pouring rain of the northwest and they were heading south
– always heading south, to the border, eventually, and to beaches
and hot sweaty nights and tequila. "I know." Heero knew but it didn't stop him thinking even as he
ran his fingers down Duo's chest, reaching for the waistband of jeans,
finding the zipper. "Off," he commanded. "You think ya got another round in ya?" He didn't answer, instead, he made his intention clear,
hands forcing the zipper down and then Duo stepped out of his reach,
not letting him have any more contact as he slid those tight, tight
jeans down, removed sneakers and socks but left boxer shorts on and
returned to within touching distance. "No fair. You're still fully dressed...well, not
totally," Duo smirked, eyes drifted down to his spent cock. "Do something about it." Heero knew he shouldn't encourage Duo – could already
see that it was a bad idea to offer it like a challenge as he was
pushed from his reclining position to down fully on the bed and talented
hands were underneath his own thrift store t-shirt, not as tight but
pushing it up and a tongue licked at the skin revealed and he could
already feel the stirrings of arousal at the body above him –
he always responded to Duo. Lost since that first day in juvie –
boy with a fucking braid taking shit and for some reason he'd stepped
in and that was it. Before he offered anything in thanks… before
the hand job and before he'd sworn he'd never leave him. He moved to allow Duo to get his shirt off and then
felt hands at the already open jeans, a hand brushing over his cock
that was beginning to respond. Maybe they came too quickly –
part of the problem of being nineteen – but then their recovery
times were impressive. Heero wriggled his hips to help remove his
jeans, kicked off sneakers and felt Duo remove socks leaving him completely
naked. He shifted back onto the bed, pushing away the duffle that
fell to the floor, the bundles of cash and loose bills joining the
weapon. "No fair," Heero said, repeating Duo's own
words as now he was naked and his lover was not – the tenting
of boxers reminding him that he'd not come. That could be remedied. He grabbed at hips, impatiently removing the last strip
of clothing between them and Duo kicked them off before returning
to straddling Heero. He felt unable to breathe for a moment, that
it was too fucking intense, that this was too much – but
regained whatever brain cells he needed and pulled at the braid, wrapping
it tight around his fist to bring Duo's body in direct contact. "Lube?" Heero heard the words, felt them playing across his
mouth but in their current tangle of limbs it seemed like it'd be
hell to separate. Instead, he rolled them over, the sudden movement
and force of it eliciting a murmured "fuck" from Duo's lips
as the positions were reversed and it allowed Heero to lean down to
retrieve his jeans and find a tube without the total loss of bodily
contact. "Always prepared, 'Ro?" Duo teased as Heero
returned to his position directly on top, perfect alignment of bodies He smirked. "Always have to be when you fucking
tease me all day," he said, opening the tube with practiced skill
as tongues warred. Desperate for breath, their lips parted and Heero leaned
his head downwards, and felt a hand stroke the back of his head then
that hand clutched at his hair in a sudden spasm as he hit prostate
and the desperate little moan made him aware that Duo would be fucking
close too. And he inserted another finger, scissoring, stretching
and preparing him with care that contrasted against the violent life
he'd led and the things that he'd done. "Stop fucking around," Duo said, breathy,
and he felt a hand pull up his head so that they made eye contact. Duo would say something clever to that – he thought
– something about how he'd be fucking him but Heero didn't have
that way with the words or those thought processes as he moved back
onto his heels, and raised one leg over his shoulder, lapping a tongue
against ankle before bringing the other around his waist and lubed
his hard dick before beginning the slow push in. Everything about their life was frantic and quick and
violent. But this wasn't going to be. Blue eyes squeezed shut as he
focused on heat and the point of contact between bodies. Tried to
control every instinct and the desire to just pound knowing Duo would
take it rough and hard. Wanted it that way sometimes just as he did
when they reversed positions, when it was Duo's cock up his ass and
they were low on time or just too fucking horny for anything but he
paused, enveloped in tightness and taking deep breaths, maintaining
some control. "Jesus fucking Christ…" His eyes flipped open to see Duo underneath him –
the sheen of sweat, the braid dishevelled, his own marks from the
scraping of teeth and nails over his chest as though trying to erase
those other marks. And he leaned forward, taking one more kiss from
those lips, taking the "oh fucks" and "shits"
and "Heero's" from them as he pulled out and then back in
at a slow pace. He took it as slow as he could but he soon felt Duo's
impatience, both legs now around his waist pulling him tighter in
and the hips meeting his harder, the colliding of sweaty bodies increasing
in pace till it would be over soon in a rush of cum. Duo suddenly moved, he felt a push on his shoulders
and his legs lowered, it stilled his thrusts, confused, as they were
too damn close and it was not the time to be fucking around, in Duo's
words. It took a second to realise the intent as he slipped out, his
cock burning in the air as he let hands and a strong body force him
onto his back and could only look up and process the change in position
as Duo lowered onto him and he let his hands drift to hips. "Felt bad letting you do all the work…" "Fuck," was the only word Heero could manage
as he felt deeper inside, so fucking deep and he could only lie back
and let this happen – let Duo ride him and hold firmly onto hips
to assist each thrust up and down, the braid brushing against the
skin of his thighs. It didn't need to last long now and he watched through
lidded eyes as Duo's hand deliberately made its way down to his own
cock, dripping, and jerked off to the time of each downward thrust.
He reached up and wrapped his own hand around Duo's, both of them
bringing him to completion, thick cum splattering over hands and Heero's
chest and the deep groaned "Heero – fuck" and the head
thrown back and the tightening around his own dick making him come,
his hips twitching up. If the blow job had taken time to come down from, the
fuck took longer as Duo's body relaxed onto his, the heavy breathing
on his shoulder and the tongue that licked out to taste sweat being
the only lifeline to reality as Heero felt the aftershocks of orgasm
shuddering through him. "Fuck, 'Ro." He chuckled at the first words spoken – no comeback
for it as it became apparent they were both damn sticky – sweat
and cum starting to dry and Heero felt his cock slip out. "Shit, think I need to tease you every fucking
day… or maybe use the gun in every heist – you were somethin'
else…" With the reminder of the gun, Heero looked over to the
floor to see the duffle and the bundles of cash and some of the loose
bills spread out. They needed to count it and make sure none was left
in the room in case any bills were traceable. His thoughts were interrupted. "Stop thinking, Heero." "Yeah," he answered, a slight distracted tone
to his voice. He groaned as he moved. "Shower?" "Naw, too fucking sleepy. Bed?" He nodded and Duo managed to disentangle limbs enough
to separate and Heero decided right now he didn't give a shit about
being covered in Duo's cum or his own sweat – and moved to settle
himself against the headboard of the bed, forgetting about the cash,
and slid his legs into the thin rough sheets. Heero watched through lazy eyes, open to slits, exhausted
from fucking and coming twice in quick succession as Duo left the
bed and reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels. He took a deep swig
and passed it over and then he watched as Duo bent over, the image
still erotic despite his exhaustion and saw him reach for his jeans.
From the pocket he got out the worn, brown wallet and Heero took a
long drag from the bottle as Duo came back and sat alongside him,
leaning his head against his sweaty shoulder. He knew what he was doing. That stupid piece of a magazine.
He watched as Duo opened it slowly, the image creased in four and
it was white from the amount of times it had been damn folded in those
creases. The picture of a beach, the sunset, cocktails – a million
miles from the world they'd come from. Heero kissed his neck and looked
at the picture. "Tell me again." Duo's body rumbled against his own, that small chuckle,
and he enjoyed the skin on skin contact now as much as their passionate
fucking. "You're so sick of this shit." "No. Tell me again." "This is where we're going, babe, that we pull
a few more jobs and we make some more dough… we keep travelling
south and then we cross over the border…" Heero made a low "hmm" in the back of his
throat at the story, ran his hand over muscled thighs and buried his
head against Duo's shoulder. "Then we get to Tijuana and we drink and we fuck
and we smoke and we do whatever the fuck we want for a few weeks…" "And then?" "We travel to the coast and we put our toes in
the ocean and it's just you and me and nothin' else. Forever. And
it don't matter all that shit that we left behind and it don't matter
all the things we done." Duo folded the picture up, putting it back in the wallet
as though it was something sacred and it probably was – from
that time before juvie, before they met – and placed it on the
table beside the bed. "I like that story," Heero said. "Yeah, me too." They shared one more swig from the Jack Daniels bottle,
a deep kiss, before turning off motel lights and lying down to sleep
entangled in each other's sweaty limbs. Heero felt Duo's body relax
against his own but he couldn't sleep, instead stayed awake in the
dark, running fingers lightly over his lovers back who probably dreamt
about Mexico and beaches while he thought of ways to make sure they
got there. And finally, when he felt sleep start to claim him,
he smiled against damp skin, his lips against Duo's shoulders and
murmured "forever" before letting himself relax into dreamless
oblivion. tbc |
