19 Mar 2000
Hi hi...Here's the sequel to "Shinigami." "Pity Game" is a sort of unhappy blurb about Duo trying to live with everything that happened in "Shinigami." He's not doing so well...as Quatre knows. Eeeeek I'm destroying Duo's charcter yet again...I do that a lot.
Title: Pity Game
Author: Erin Cayce
Warnings... um. Language, lemon, yaoi, dark
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and God forbid this should ever have happened in the series...
Feedback appreciated, Thanks for reading!
I will start posting the next fic in the
series, "Once Was Lost", a 5x2, soon, I think. Hee hee kind of nervous about its reception... I get weirder and weirder. Thanks again! ~TB
Duo sat up abruptly, gasping. Startled into wakefulness, Quatre was half off the bed and had a hand on his gun before he realised that the noise came from his companion. He eased back on the bed, willing his heart beat to slow down to normal, and laid a hand on Duo's shoulder.
"Are you alright?" he asked gently.
Duo shuddered, again, three times. He couldn't stop it. He got up and lurched to the window, threw it open, gulping in the faint light from the distant stars as if it were air.
*He's dreaming again.* Quatre couldn't remember exactly when he'd realised that the nightmares came in patterns--the longer he was away from Heero, the worse they were; the longer he was with Heero, the more frequent. The longer he woke up with someone beside him in the bed, the more nights he spent guzzling coffee to stay awake.
The Arab joined Duo at the window, and silently slid his arms around Duo's waist, pulling him close and tucking Duo's head under his chin. He stroked Duo's stomach, tenderly, warmly.
Duo turned to face him, and pressed his cheek against Quatre's chest. Quatre didn't even notice when the sobbing began.
But when it ended, he led Duo back to the bed, got him to sit, sat rubbing his shoulders and stroking his sunken cheeks and whispering platitudes. Duo leaned into each caress.
"Thank you," he said dimly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"All right." Quatre rubbed two fingers feather-light over the indentation at the base of Duo's skull, a sensitive spot, a soothing touch. He didn't pay much attention when Duo subtly moved closer, pressing against him for that touch, and drew his own long-boned fingers up Quatre's thigh.
"Quatre."
"Hmm?" He felt it then, the unexpected, expected, hesitation at his hip bone, the pause before the jump. "Duo?"
"It'll be good. You've done it before, don't say you haven't."
"This isn't the way to get over it, Duo."
"How do you know?"
"What about Heero then?" But the hand had already begun its attack, sliding between his legs and brushing over the mound of flesh hidden by boxers. Quatre shivered now, hating the lust that suddenly raged through him, and caught Duo's wrist. "Won't he be angry?"
He probably would be. Heero hated Duo's faithlessness. It didn't reflect Duo's inability to commit, Quatre thought, as the wet tongue invaded his mouth. When he straddled the other boy to rock between Duo's thighs he thought that it was the result of having been taught that sex was unsacred. Spread 'em. For anyone who asks. Heero asked more than the others, that was all.
Despite the fleeting pleasure, neither one was pleased.
Duo lay beside him, and his hand played with Quatre's flesh; his eyes, wide, dead, stared up into wiser blue ones, and Quatre thought.
"Do you love him?"
"He needs me."
All Duo ever said. "I love Trowa."
"I know you do." Duo's hand, unsuccessful, stilled, then swept up over his belly and lay listless on Quatre's chest. "Thank you."
"Duo, there has to be another way."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Have you talked to Professor G?"
"No."
"Maybe medicines. You would sleep better."
"Or I could drink, yes? I don't think so, Quatre."
Duo drunk was a disaster. They'd all learned things about him that decency forbade even discussing. Duo didn't care what they knew. It only confirmed his own perception of his worthlessness. Quatre sighed, and reciprocated the insistent fingering. Duo squirmed, thrusting against his palm half-heartedly, too tired to really manage release. Quatre wished for him to go back to sleep.
Sex didn't help. Never did. But it was all Duo knew, nowadays.
Zechs had said, No will to deny anyone access to his body, his soul. No will to withstand rejection, either. Relena Peacecraft called him "whore" and avoided him like plague. Duo screamed at Heero to get on with loving her and leave him alone, since it was obviously his future intention anyway.
Heero fucked him senseless, and went to lunch with the Queen of the World.
Quatre prayed for sleep. Duo was quiet, anyway, and closed the gaping violet pits of anguish and self-loathing.
Quatre prayed for death. In his heart of hearts, secretly, so even he wouldn't know he was doing it--prayed for those awful eyes to permanently close, because it was the only end that would ever come to Duo that accorded any dignity.
Fuck Heero Yuy. Fuck Duo Maxwell.
Fuck an unnamed soldier who'd started it all.
Fuck war, spawning violence and rape and leaving no time for battered souls lost in hell. Confessional was censored. God was inspecting arms bunkers somewhere else, and didn't have the time of day for wronged sinners.
Fuck it all.
Duo Maxwell slept.
End Part 2
(:./erin/still2)
