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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" Chapter Four Beautiful Thieves The water was hot, almost on the side of being too damn hot as the shower spray harshly thudded against naked skin. Heero knew he'd been in there too long, his head bowed, one hand against the slick tiles but then he assumed Duo would think he was jacking off or something. Though if Duo thought he was doing that then he would at least have wanted to watch if not participate with firm strokes and crude words of encouragement that would make him come hard, panting. He wasn't jerking off - not even half hard as water slid over his skin. He supposed he could say that he was enjoying the luxury of a decent supply of hot water in a shower that he assumed had never been infested with cockroaches or ants. They were at a hotel testing out the new fake ID's - the credit cards, the passports - the entirely new backgrounds and identities they had acquired that hadn't come cheap as they were at the final part of securing that dream of Mexico and beaches. They'd cost the Rolex money - or at least, ten thousand of it, the remaining few hundred bucks Duo insisted on using to test the new docs out on a chain hotel - not a fancy place but better than they usually stayed in with Heero's paranoia. Places with security cameras, that took credit card details at check in and asked for damn ID. Duo had walked in with his usual bravado and confidence, got a room while Heero stood back and observed that there must be a conference in town due to the amount of businessmen and he'd held onto the duffle bag they carried tightly, conscious of the gun inside - illegally obtained and fired recently. It was the gun that was the reason he was standing in the shower, avoiding Duo. Fuck, he loved him with a fierceness that confused him - desire that hadn't dampened down despite the fact it was over four years since they met in juvie. He wanted him, wanted the sexual release he'd offer without any protest, maybe wanted to forget what he'd done, but right now he wanted space. Wanted to be away from him, didn't want soothing words and a sharp tongue and that confidence and belief that they were doing the right thing. Right now he wanted to deal with what he'd done. Yeah, he'd fired a gun before. He'd been taught at a young age - certain when he looked back that Odin had been a hit man for the Russian mob - and he wasn't afraid of guns. He supposed he had every reason to hate them, remembering what it was like to watch a bullet impact the head and the explosion of blood and bone that it produced. Being jerked out of bed in a tank top and shorts by rough men, dragging him to see Odin on his knees and the gun to his head and Odin silently nodding and trying to tell him through eye contact that everything would be okay. Or something. It was bullshit. It wasn't okay. He'd watched and then they'd left him there with the body where he'd numbly tried to decide the best course of action until finally he extracted the cell phone from Odin's jeans' pocket, fumbling slightly at the close proximity to the corpse. He'd dialled a number, the only number he knew might help - the man only known as J and hours later a cleaning crew arrived. The body was moved, the blood was wiped away though the stains remained on the carpet for months and then they left him alone. He had a year. A year until he'd been stupid, beat that snot nosed shit who'd deserved the punch to the face. Maybe not the punch to the gut and then the kicks when he'd reached the ground but it had been a steady stream of abuse that had brought him to that moment. He'd seen the damage that a gun did. And yet he still used one for the first time to actually harm someone. Heero hadn't intended to. It was meant to be simple. They were low on cash after the purchase of the fake ID's - those good enough to get them over the border - and he'd decided to scope out a small gas station surrounded by a whole heap of nothing. Duo was to play wheelman in the current stolen vehicle. It had been simple. He hadn't expected the guy behind the counter to have a shotgun. And he hadn't expected he'd need to fire his own weapon which he'd done with practised efficiency. He remembered Odin's steady hand on his shoulder, his firm and reassuring words as he pointed the gun and fired once, low, avoiding major internal organs but disabling. It had not been the first time he'd fired a gun in a heist. But it was the first time he'd shot someone. He'd completed the robbery, thrown the cash register to the floor and collected the money, kicked the shotgun out of reach and left the guy bleeding. It wasn't a fatal wound, he reasoned, but then how long until someone came that way? Fuck. He didn't want to think about it but then he was - standing in a shower trying to figure out how he felt. If Odin was his father, which he never knew, then it would be following in his footsteps. Becoming a murderer, a killer - meaning if they ever got caught he'd be looking at a fuck ton of jail time. He'd take the jail time, take responsibility for the weapon, Duo wouldn't take that... he'd make sure. He realised his thoughts had spiralled. The guy was probably fine. He'd survive the wound and he'd got the money. He needed to relax and not think about it. Needed something... As if sensing that something, he heard the door open, the bathroom clouded in a fog of steam after all his time stood in the shower. "'Ro," he heard Duo's voice but it sounded distant due to the shower spray. "You ain't drowned in here?" Heero looked over, his dark hair damp in his eyes, at Duo standing in the doorway in only boxers and a t-shirt. He'd left him sitting on the bed flicking through the larger variety of TV stations than their usual places allowed but now he'd obviously sensed something the fuck was up as he leaned against the wooden frame, his head cocked at an angle, his braid trailing downward towards the floor. "You okay?" He didn't answer. He was okay. Yeah, he was always okay. Had to be okay as that was what he was told. That's what Odin had tried to say silently across that room. Words clung in his throat and he could only shake his head a little. He didn't know whether he was confirming or denying that he was okay but it didn't matter either way as Duo climbed into the tub, the shower spray hitting him and he felt a hand on his jaw directing his face upwards to meet big blue eyes. "Heero?" He didn't want to talk. Didn't need to explain to Duo the fucked up thoughts about his past. Didn't want to explain his fucked up relationship with the man who was his father if not in blood, then in everything else, and the reason he ended up juvie. Duo had asked once but Heero had said it didn't matter and he didn't want to go through it all. And he didn't need to explain how he felt about firing a weapon with the intent to harm, how he felt about the blood trailing across the floor and the guy who could be dead now by his hand. "You're thinking," Duo said, his voice quiet against the sound of the shower spray. "Ya know it's always been kinda dangerous." "Then make me stop." It was stupid. Duo was still half damn dressed as he stepped fully into the shower spray, the black t-shirt saturated in seconds and clinging to his skin tightly but Heero didn't say shit as he leaned forward to meet Duo's lips hard, their tongue clashing with open mouths. Maybe Duo understood his neediness, knew that he wouldn't want slow and steady now, that he didn't want fingertips and teasing, he wanted a body slammed tight against his own, wanted that mouth, those closed eyes, that thrusting tongue, those tight hands, that hard dick meeting his own and creating friction. He wanted to forget that he may or may have not killed someone. It was meant to be fun, he remembered that, even as he ran a hand underneath wet, tight fabric. That's what Duo had said - that they'd be outlaws, it'd be like some damn movie and that no one would ever get them - too young and pretty or something. It was meant to be easy, knocking over convenience stores, running Duo's cons, and it wasn't meant to be about guilt and fear and paranoia over the fucking cops. And he had to forget that, that paranoia, and he did the only way he could, by drowning himself in Duo's body, in a hand at the base of the wet braid, threaded through it and pulling him close, in that mouth that promised pleasure, that body plastered tight to his own and rubbing against him, the wet fabric against his naked skin creating ripples of desire and want and need. Even as he damn tried, underneath the hot shower spray, kisses becoming deeper, the friction between them becoming near unbearable, his thoughts still strayed. Maybe the killer thing was in his blood. If Odin was his father, then he'd be the son of a hit man - a hit man that tried to protect him, tried to hide the bruised knuckles, the bloody clothing, the duffle bag with the tiny lock attached to it that he was forbidden to go near. And maybe he was a ticking time bomb - he'd attacked that trust fund kid at school for his fucking comments about ripping up the damn party invitation of some rich chick, he'd broken the hand of the ringleader Trant in juvie who'd tried to fuck around with Duo, and he'd stayed awake every night after the hospital kicked him out from Duo's bedside, trying to find the strength not to go and find the fucks who did that to him - tried not to get a baseball bat and hit and hit and hit until blood flowed. And he still wanted to. Go back and use whatever he could to do what they did to Duo to them as the piece of shit pro-bono lawyer did fuck all and the trial never happened because one of them had connections and a father or something. Though they couldn't go back - he'd hacked the hospital records, creating a fake log of Duo's medical insurance and made it look like his hospital bills were paid and if they went back... maybe it would all unravel. Maybe they'd get caught. Maybe they'd end up in jail and fuck if they were ending there. But if that man was dead... He wanted to damn forget, drown himself in the water from the hot shower and Duo's kiss but he felt Duo pull away, hands on his chest and then that body wasn't against his. "We ain't fucking if you're not even here." "I'm here," he replied, reaching to touch the sodden boxer shorts, to touch the hard cock through them - the moan that answered his touch running through him. He leaned forward to kiss at Duo's neck, to run his tongue and lick up water from the shower along the column of his throat and scrape teeth and wring gasps of pain and pleasure but Duo stepped further back and stilled Heero's hand through the wet fabric. "No. We're not fucking unless you tell me shit." Duo had never said "no" to him. Not like this when he was clearly hard and Heero was hard and all he wanted was him underneath him or pinned against some surface and to hear those words - the "fucks" and the "shits" and "Jesus Christ" and his name said with reverence as he fucked him. And it was a ridiculous situation. Heero naked under the shower spray, Duo standing at the other end of the tub in wet boxers and wet shirt and pissed looking. "What if I killed the guy?" Heero asked quietly. "You didn't." "You don't know." Duo stepped forward and Heero could see the water from the shower on his eyelashes and a flash of tenderness that was uncharacteristic. A hand brushed aside his bangs and then held onto his face, one hand on either of his cheeks. "We'll burn the car. We'll get rid of the gun. The guy'll have phoned the cops. Someone will have gone for damn gas and he'll be in hospital gettin' patched up. You didn't kill him, 'Ro." It was a nice story. Just like the dream of Mexico - the nights in Tijuana and that beach and the life they'd lead where they drank and fucked and sat in the sun and he always wanted to believe in them. Believe in Duo. It was the only person he had left. "I don't want to stay here," Heero said slowly, "we drive for a few more hours and burn the car." "Roger that," Duo said, the sarcasm and the cocky grin sliding back into place and those hands left his face and Duo was moving to leave him in the damn shower again. He didn't want that. Maybe he'd be more comfortable in a piece of shit motel and the car in ashes and the gun wiped and untraceable and gone but they had time. Some time and they were here and he was still hard and naked, the desire of proximity still thrumming through his veins and he reached out and brought Duo forcefully to his body to kiss those smirking lips. The slippery porcelain under their feet didn't allow much purchase and the water got in their faces and between their hurried lips. Heero's fingers slipped underneath the wet t-shirt, pushing it upwards, forcing them to part and Duo to raise his arms, the fabric tight and difficult to remove and it became tempting to rip it but Duo assisted, the shirt finally over his head and thudding wetly against the tub floor. Duo quirked his head slightly. "Here?" Heero thought about it, about the cramped space and the slipperiness and the way he wanted to fuck him hard and he shook his head and Duo stepped out over the tub, Heero following him, his hand fumbling to turn off the shower spray but not succeeding - instead it seemed to have turned the water temperature up and created even more steam in the space. In his haste to get to Duo's body, to do what he needed to, to be lost in sex and in the one person that loved him and wanted him, he pushed him against the fake marble counter and the sink, slipping his hand underneath the boxer shorts and this time not being stopped as he stroked. "Bed?" Heero heard the word but his lips were on Duo's shoulder, his hand tugging his cock and Duo was all he wanted and he wanted him now. "No. Here," he said against the damp skin as he reached for the waistband of those wet shorts, pulling them downwards and now they were both wet and naked, hot and hard. He felt Duo's hands against his back, the light scratches against his skin marking him as he thrust his hips against his, effectively trapping him against the hard cold surface behind him as he trailed his tongue back up from his shoulder to his jaw. Duo's head was thrown back, his soaked braid falling downwards into the sink as he continued the rocking motion until it became too much and he didn't want to come like this even though it would be satisfying. He fumbled for the small bottles of lotions and shampoos by the side of the sink, unable and unwilling to remove his body from Duo's to go and find lube in their bag or in his jeans. It would be too long to be apart even if it was only a few fucking seconds. They had stilled completely against each other, panting, the heat of the bathroom and the steam making skin slick. Heero ran a hand up to move the bangs that nearly covered Duo's eyes to the side carefully before stepping back only a few inches to allow him to move and turn his body 'round, Heero not having to make his intentions clear, and it was then he saw the large fogged mirror in front of them. Duo leaned his body forward against the sink and swiped at the condensation on the glass, the image of them was ever so blurry, little beads of water distorting it, but despite that and Duo having his back to Heero, their eyes could meet through the glass. It was something they'd never fucking done. Yeah, he'd seen Duo's face during sex face to face but he'd never seen what they looked like together. It made him think they needed to try a camera or something. A home movie but it seriously wasn't the time for those thoughts as Duo spoke. "You just gonna stand there?" He didn't answer, instead, chuckled low and opened one of the bottles and coated fingers with the slippery substance before sliding his fingers down Duo's back building anticipation again until he reached his destination, one finger slowly entering. He used the other hand to move over the pale skin of his sides, of his shoulders, watching in the mirror the facial expressions on his lover's face as he moved one finger to the first knuckle and then moved it in and out gradually building up a rhythm until he slid it further inside. Duo's knuckles were white against the edge of the fake marble and Heero saw either a bead of sweat or some of the water from the shower slide down the back of his neck from underneath his braid and leaned forward, licking at it - a sensitive spot that he knew Duo would respond to, a thrust of hips forwards as Heero continued his finger's movement. This was how he could damn forget, Heero knew, as he added another finger, the answering moan and impatient pants making him forget about everything but Duo. It didn't matter that he'd used the gun - he wasn't going to become a killer. It had been necessary. Necessary for this - for their future, for them to get away and leave every bad memory and every fucked up thought. Duo's hand swiped at the glass again, the condensation from the shower or from the heat of their bodies making it foggy again and he felt compelled to lean downwards, another finger now working inside, and kiss awkwardly at his cheek, Duo turning his face to meet his lips sloppily, Heero catching words in his mouth and knowing that he was the only one who could inspire those feelings in the man underneath him. He couldn't help glancing at the mirror versions of them as he moved back to standing behind, sliding a hand down Duo's sides and feeling the sweat and water as he removed fingers and used more of the lotion on his hard dick, the pressure of his own hand sending shock waves through him and making it evident he wasn't going to last long. There had been too much damn build up. He thought this was going to be a quick hard fuck but it had changed as he began the slow slide into heat, trying to keep his eyes open to see the expression on Duo's face through glass, the way their skin contrasted as they became connected in the most primal fucking way. Heero stopped half way, experimentally moving his hips in increments, letting Duo's become used to the feeling - it was a familiar feeling but Heero never wanted to cause him pain and as much as he wanted to snap his hips back sharply, he took deep breaths and ran fingertips down Duo's spine, tracing a few scars gently from what must've been a damn knuckle duster or from rings or something until he felt Duo relax back into him, pushing backwards, making Heero's eyes flutter closed and his body respond. It was the easiest thing in their lives. The only part that was damn easy and didn't come attached to the threat of being caught or the chance that somehow everything could get fucked up. It was the only thing that was damn near perfect. Heero grabbed at Duo's hips, steadying him as he started to thrust his dick in and then back, stopping Duo from colliding into the fake marble and making him stay close, making Heero go deep with each forward movement. A part of him wanted to watch in the mirror but he couldn't, his eyes kept closing at the intense feeling of pleasure, the way Duo slid against his skin, the way he could feel his cock inside that body being gripped and caressed and the way Duo said all those things that made him lose whatever self-control he had. That he was good, that he felt good, that he could go deeper, harder, faster and Duo would take it all - take away all those bad memories and replace them with something better. And he knew that he was reaching climax, that his balls were tightening, that Duo was shuddering with each contact of Heero's hip to ass, that he was hitting prostate with every other hard thrust and he brought his hand round - Duo unable to jerk himself off as now he was holding on so damn tight to the bathroom counter edge as though trying to anchor himself and Heero reached and took his cock in his hand. He knew how Duo liked to be damn touched, how he liked to be sucked, how he liked to fuck him and he used that knowledge, the hard flesh in his hands slippery already from pre-cum or the water from the shower or the dripping condensation in the air and he stroked firmly, his thumb playing around the slit and repeating that as he could barely keep up the rhythm of his hips, each time he pounded forward became less assured until finally he couldn't take anymore as he felt hot cum on his hand and he drove his hips as deeply forward as he could, the repeated use of the word "fuck" being his damn undoing even as he felt spasms around his dick. His release felt intense, hot, white, electric - words seemed pretty damn useless and he knew he only said one as he came. "Duo." The world became hazy for a moment, his legs barely able to hold him and he heard the pounding noise of rain and felt confused. It took a moment to remember that the shower was still on and they were in a hotel room and the haziness was the steam and the distortion of their reflections in the mirror in front of him. It took another to realise they both were in danger of falling to the damn floor and Heero moved back, slipping out of Duo's body and allowed him to move from what had been a pretty awkward position and turned to face him. Duo leaned back against the counter and beckoned Heero towards him, to bring their bodies back together for a languid kiss with open mouths and lazy tongues that said nothing about desire but all about being sated, satisfied. "Did I stop ya thinking?" Duo asked, his hands now idly tracing patterns in the sweat on Heero's back. "Yeah. You always do." He had. And for a few brief minutes, he'd forgotten about the guy bleeding out and the gun and Odin. Heero knew he'd remember - knew when cum was washed away, when they left the damp steamy bathroom, when they were dressed and leaving this hotel, he'd start thinking again but right now, he had Duo's body against his and it felt good and it was better than any other feeling he'd ever had. "No more thinking that shit, 'Ro. Promise?" "Yeah. Promise."
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