If That\'s What You Want Me to Do

Note: This fanfiction was removed from FF.net due to its previous rating. It contains situations which minors may not enjoy, but I believe that people are not stupid and should be able to read whatever they wish to read. Thank you to all who previously commented on this ‘fic.

Title: Of Suicide
Sequel to: If that’s what you want me to do. (I’m hoping to get better results. I think this one is a lot more entertaining.)
Warnings: Lemon, slight violence, a ton of angst.
Disclaimer: Don’t own characters.

It took a moment before Duo realized what had happened, he let his body fall onto the carpet, expecting a heavy bullet to tear through his skull. Nothing came though, nothing aside the the sound of an empty cartridge; a hollow click of life.

And yet, he commanded his body to be still, lying face down on the carpet. He could feee wee weight of Heero, still standing, gun at ease by his side. The room expanded, and closed briefly. Making the world impossibly small in a bedroom with a gun, but at the same time out the window it seemed infinitely large.

Duo stirred a little as tight arms lifted him up. They slid his jeans off slowly and placed him in the bed. Then they went to hide the gun, and the cartridge. Duo made himself small in the bed. Tears fought their way to his eyes. "Shut up!" His mind commanded. Thoughts were evil things. The room spun a little, just a little as Duo closed his eyes.
Heero sat on the floor, staring up at Duo's sprawled figure on the bed. His mind swayed back and fourth torn between his emotions and his way of life. Duo rescuing him from the hospital resurfaced. Heero stared at Duo’s sleeping form. The light from the moon hit Duo’s pale shoulders making him look sickly, but there was still spunk in him, somewhere. Heero crawled onto the bed. He contemplated Duo's hair, the way it smelled, its texture, drying with its tangles. Sprawled out across a bare shoulder it made him look almost ethereal. Which was un-Duo like. Heero gathered the hair up slowly and began to twist and turn it until it resembled something of a braid. He closed the end of it in his hand and removed his consciousness.

Duo lay on the bed, the horrid bed that had always shown up in his dreams with Heero. Tonight it was different, tonight there was only the bed, in a large dark open space. He glanced around cautiously waiting for the dream to speed up and leave him disgusted and covered in welts and boils. A clock with a soft tick materialized to his right he turned to stare at it. It was normal made of black plastic, a minute hand and an hour hand. He turned back to face the backboard of the bed. Heero lay there, limp, like a broken toy. A gun closed in his right hand, the side of his head blown almost completely away. The wound had cut across Heero’s face at a slight diagonal going from the base of his chin to the middle of his forehead, taking out his right eye, some of his nose, and all of his cheek. Blood poured from the mass of broken skull, red screaming tissue and gray brain matter. Duo’s chest began to hurt, and his vocal chords swelled in his throat. The room seemed to grow a thousand degrees hotter. The heat began to smother him. He crawled towards the body. One clear blue eye cracked open. A smile spread though the remaining portion of the lips, the weak tissue spilling out the open side. Heero raised the gun, and pulled the trigger.

Duo woke up in a cold sweat. The remnants of a dream ran stealthily from his conscious into his subconscious; his brain still pumping panic into his veins. Fearful tears clutched at the corner of Duo's eyes, not recognizing where he was he spun around in the bed only to face--Heero. His heart sunk as he recalled the gun. He shivered, hating himself, hating the things that made him himself, hating everything. The cold attacked his heart, sneaking in through his limbs. He shifted under the blankets, meaning to leave, but he heard something slow, laborless. An exhale, and inhale. Heero's breathing. The sound of life, another being, someone he loved, beside him. His head spun with the weight of his actions. He let his fingertips brush Heero's face and then his lips, but quickly drew away for fear of the blue eyes fluttering up to meet him. Slowly he pulled himself out of bed and smirking at the braid Heero had given him he placed a hair tie around it. He grabbed the first material that his foot, a starch white dress shirt of Heero's, then went off to find the gun.

Duo sighed as he entered the last and final room, the kitchen. While rummaging through the apartment he came to the conclusion that Heero had just recently moved in. He'd only found a few pieces of furniture, and some repair manuals, plus a few unopened boxes, which he had better sense to look through. If he didn't find the gun in the kitchen, he'd go through them last. He cringed a little at the sound the cabinets made, Heero would be up soon. The first two cabinets were empty, the third held a solitary box of crackers. Duo blinked at the solitary red box a moment before reaching his hand inside and grabbing it. Viola: the gun. Duo smiled as he shoved the box back into its dark lonely chamber and closed the door. He moved onto the fourth cabinet. Dusty records and a record player stared back at him, these definitely weren't Heero's. He rummaged through the records.

Beethoven, Rimsky-Korsakov, Bach, Chopin, Vivaldi, Billie Holiday, Ray Charles...

Duo let them flip through his fingers momentarily a few times before closing his eyes and pulling one out. Ray Charles' I Can't Stop Loving You. Duo rolled his eyes at his luck and set up the record player. Soon the sound of crackling needle and the chorus filled the room. Duo searched a few more cabinets only finding a bottle of exquisitely good scotch. The fridge creaked at him as he pulled it open. He stared at the lean contents of the fridge, a carton of milk, and some pickles. Duo was beginning to suspect that this really wasn't Heero's apartment. He took another swig of scotch and closed the refrigerator door. Duo sat on the floor and began to go through the last two remaining cabinets, the scotch renewing his urgency.

Thwas was something undoubtedly sexy about the way the fabric of Heero's own shirt clung to Duo's lithe frame. Duo, hair disheveled, a scotch bottle and an empty gun by his left foot, had yet to realize Heero had woken up and was standing just a few feet away staring at him. His hand shook boxes, looking desperately for an object of value, ever the thief, was oblivious to the set of eyes he so loathed. It was another minute before Duo bent down for another swig of scotch and caught Heero's frame in the doorway in the corner of his eye. Duo picked up the gun.
"Where'd'ya put the bullets?" his speech slightly slurred from sleep and near drunkenness.

Heero opened the refrigerator door, a cartidge slid through the opening of an empty milk carton and landed in his palm.

"Clever." Duo placed the scotch on the table. "Do you like Ray Charles?" He moved slowly over towards Heero. Heero watched the fabric of his shirt slink back and fourth across Duo's almost anorexic stomach, the near drunken sparkle in his eyes gave a warmth to his cheeks. Duo leaned forward placing a hand on Heero's shoulder he drew close, very close, so close that Heero could feel the wetness and smell the alcohol on his breath. "I don't. I like Beethoven better. Do you like Beethoven?" Duo focused in on Heero's mouth, too emotionally disturbed and filled with scotch to care, he slid his tongue easily into it. Warm wet flesh rose up to meet his own, Duo felt his heart race, skyrocket into the unknown, they were moving backwards suddenly. Out into the carpeted hallway. Heero's head hit the back wall, and his teeth nearly clamped down. He pushed his tongue further into Duo's mouth, liking the heat, and the taste, and the way Duo's body was liquid and smooth, and nearly drunk. He swung his body around pinning Duo against the wall. Duo wrapped his legs around Heero's waste, his hands and arms fought to discard Heero of his shirt. He could feel Heero's arousal though his jeans pressing against a soft spot near his groin, he wanted everything off. He wanted to be inside but wouldn't dare let go. He maneuvered them off the wall and they fell to the ground together with a thud. Neither noticed the pain, if there was any at all. Heero's mind ran to Duo curled up in a tight ball asleep beside him, his smiling features, and now his hands; sickly and painful as they clawed at his back in a desperate attempt to remove his shirt. Through much shrugging they managed to successfully get it off together. Duo let his legs slacken a little as he undid Heero's belt, Heero worked quickly on Duo's buttons. Ray Charles' voice floated somewhere above their heads. Duo was barely aware of what was happening, he could only see Heero's eyes, and feel the heat rising around the uncomfortable position of his body on the carpet. He didn't care about the pain. He wanted to be as close as possible, inside, he wanted to be inside Heero's skin, kissing him, fucking him, making love to him. His fingers tore deep into unmarred flesh. A gun flickered into his memory, anger and loneliness raged inside of him.

"I shot you once." he panted into Heero's ear. Heero tore Duo's underwear off, the fabric shrieking and becoming lifeless once thrown to the side with the rest of the clothes. He shoved Duo's body hard into the wall. Duo grunted.
"I know." He hissed. Duo sucked on Heero's ear, while Heero lubricated him.

"Why," He whispered, his teeth bit down into the soft flesh of a lobe. "Didn't you." Blood trickled over hard cartilage. "Kill Me?" His voice: hard, heavy, and dangerous. Warning, pleading, crying all at the same time. Sex began to reach a bodiless point as Heero pounded into him. Through him almost. Falling deep inside him, sending large red blasts of pain up his spinal chord, hurting, hurting. Duo had to concentrate very hard to keep coherent.
"Because." Duo squeaked with pain and bit his lip. He stared up at Heero hating him, wanting to slip beneath his skin and murder him, tear his throat out, eat his heart, make him blow his brains out. His hands clawed into Heero's chest. Desperately seeking to be inside, the pieces of blood covered flesh sticking to his fingernails just made him try to pull it all away faster. They were so far apart now, thousands of miles apart. He had to get inside. "You didn't want me to." Heero moved his body harder and faster in and out of Duo. Heero panted, watching Duo's defiance. "You wanted me to fuck you first." The fuck sounded so heavy and so vr thr that Duo stopped his frantic clawing and punched Heero square and the jaw. Heero was disrupting things, he just wanted inside. Trapping a small cry inside his throat he drove them down onto the carpet again.

"You’re a Bastard…" Duo’s voice was weak, but Heero smirked at him, the light in Duo's eyes was back. Barely a small flicker, it at least existed. Heero pulled their bodies as close together as possible and rammed them into the wall. He came as Duo bit through his own lip. The action renewed his energy, the taste of blood being sucked into his mouth. Duo squirmed in Heero's arms and fought up off his body. Heero struggled to his knees, exhausted. Duo punched him in the face again, this time hitting him in the cheek and sending a new volt of pain through his features. His fist rose into the air again, Heero grabbed Duo's face, blood ran onto his hand as he shoved Duo against the wall again and pinned his hips down. His eyes said to shut up. He moved his mouth closer to Duo’s now half erect penis. Duo squirmed with anger and pleasure, his legs kicking into the air until they grew exhausted. He stared down into Heero's eyes, all his energies confusing his brain. Heero’s eyes stared up at him while constantly moving in accordance to Heero's mouth. Duo froze, the eyes captivating him, drilling through him, yet again knowing everything.

"I hate you." he whimpered, weak, and bloody, and in pain. He screamed when he came, hot liquid rushing fast out of him. Heero swallowed it down and then moved up to Duo's mouth, he kissed him. Duo stopped to breathe, and his chest inhaled to scream again. Everything wanted to run out of him. He wanted to purge hif off of the alcohol and the drugs and the memories, of the guilt, and the pain, and of the hot body that restrained his as lips as it moved up to meet his open screaming ones. He shoved Heero away and pulled the gun and cartidge off the floor inserting it quickly he cocked the gun and aimed it at Heero.

"I'll kill you!" his body shook, almost spasiming with exhaustion. He knew he didn’t mean it, even when the words flopped to the floor like a dying fish. The emptiness inside him rose to deafening heights. Heero inched forward slowly on the fl par parts of his feet, careful with his movements. Duo shakily raised the gun to his own head. "I hate you." He sobbed, the world having nothing to do with Heero at all. His body shook so badly that the gun kept jarring into blank air and then back to solid flesh. Whimpering came from somewhere inside of him, he slammed his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to look at anything. All the moments in his life fluttered to the surface of his mind, he drove deep in them for a new pain, a sick pain. Once, once when robbing he'd been caught, the man knocked him down and kicked him again and again until he coughed up blood. He could feel every kick, the renewed pain, the cold in his chest as he could not even stand. The gun was the only thing that pulled him back, it's cold surface pressed tight against the side of his head. He sobbed at the sex they'd just had, how rough it was, how he only wanted to be held and comforted, but things could never be that way with Heero, or rather with himself. He cried at his life, for all the suffering he'd seen and been through, for his lost optimism, for his horrid life. He sobbed because if he opened his eyes Heero would be there. And that thought stole his voice away. Sucked it back into the nothingness of his soul. He could have these thoughts, he was going to die anyway. His body shook harder.
Bullets themselves are small things. It was merely the speed at which they ripped through flesh that made them dangerous, he opened his eyes and turned to stare at the gun. He let his fingers trace over it, his gun, his old moronic gun. It was a good gun, had always been there for him. Soon his breathing slowed, finally he relaxed.

There was a rapid movement of bare feet on tile as Heero snatched the gun out of his hands. The actual smack of gun against hand so loud that it made him feel ill. All hope flying away simply because he couldn’t pick up that gun again. There were no more thoughts that would pull him through. Nothing worse, than seeing everything like he just had. Duo felt tears approach his eyes, he was tired and defeated. The world was tired and defeated so he sat down on the floor. The tears came, but he couldn't feel them. Damp spots on his chest that didn’t even make his eyes hurt. Nothing existed, nothing at all. Heero opened the window and threw the gun to the ground, it landed with thud and pounced once, twice, bursting into several large pieces then, in respect to its own small death, grew silent. Heero lay against the wall, tired, breathing, thinking while facing Duo's back. He could see how big and uncomfortable the kitchen was. Ray Charles was now fizzing, the record player having reached the end of the song. War was so much simpler than living, there were rules, no, there was one rule. Kill or be killed. Simple as that. Cynicism threatened to break across his face in the upwards arc of a bitter smile, but he fought it back. Exhaustion washed over him and his thoughts reached into the darker recesses of his mind. Heero’s eyes slid closed but fluttered half open when he heard movement. Duo crawled towards him, leaned up towards his face while placing two hands on Heero's thighs, his face moved effortlessly as he kissed him. Then Duo snuggled against Heero back to front and wrapped Heero's arms around him. Heero drew his legs up to encompass Duo's body and wrapped his arms around his shoulders a little more tightly, he pressed his lip to Duo's hair and kissed him. A calmness washed over him as he held his best friend in his arms. Somehow, just somehow it seemed like life would be all right.

and they lived happily ever after! Or did they? Comment!