Breaking a Sweat
by Merith
Duo slammed the office door shut behind him, and stalked across the room in his partner's wake. "Alright asshole, just what the fuck were you thinking pulling the plug on the mission?" he shouted, veins standing out on his neck.
The asshole dropped the message note he held half crumpled in his hand. His tone terse, he said, "At least you've acknowledged we were on a mission."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Duo had come to a stop, his hands clenching into fists.
"The last time I checked, you were supposed to be my date but had your fucking tongue so far down the suspect's throat, it wasn't information you were hunting but his Goddamn dinner!" Heero snapped, his own hands fisting at his sides.
Near shaking in his anger, Duo raised his hand and gave Heero a little push with the tips of his fingers. "I told you! I was keeping him occupied while you were running around!"
"I was tagging his car with a transmitter. You knew that," Heero stated from between gritted teeth.
"Yeah, and the four other times you left me fucking stranded at the bar?" His hand pushed high on the shoulder. "You think someone's gonna believe we were together with you never fuckin' with me?" His lips had thinned to a grim white line.
"And playing tonsil hockey with an assassin does?" Heero backed up a step.
"I was working the mission! Keeping the man in sight!" Duo's arm jerked upward, stopping open handed by his face. "Fuck! Give me a break!"
Eyes dark, skin taut across his cheeks. "Since when does mission translate to your Saturday fuck fests?"
Duo's lips twisted in a cruel mockery of a smile. "Jealous, Heero?"
His head thrust forward, he shouted, "Fuck you!"
"You'd have to remove that stick first, asshole," words spat, bitten off sharply.
Heero sneered. "You score a thousand yet?"
Until his fist met flesh, Duo hadn't realized he was throwing a punch. Heero stumbled back, his hand at his cheek. From stunned to furious, his own fist swung. Duo blocked, legs braced, and Heero threw himself on his longhaired partner.
"Fuckin' son-of-a-bitch!" Duo yelled, even as his butt slid on the desk's surface, his arms flailed failing to find purchase, scattering folders, papers, and pens. The desk lamp went flying - shattering against the wall. Heero's hands were locked on his shoulders, determined to either shake him or pin him to the desk.
Duo bent his knees up, wedging them between their bodies and shoved, boots in Heero's solar plexus. Heero staggered backward, arms outstretched, and Duo shot off the desk following. His first punch was blocked, his second landed low on Heero's right side. With a whoosh of breath, Heero shoved. The force pushed Duo over a wooden ladder-back chair, and the shattering crack loud in the small room - agent and chair collapsed to the floor.
Even as he fell, his leg thrust out, catching Heero on the knee. Springing to his feet, Duo swung part of a chair leg. Heero blocked it with a forearm, grunting with the blow. His right hand met Duo's cheek with a resounding smack and Duo staggered, falling with his back against the wall.
Instantly Heero was there, body pressed to his. Heero cupped Duo's head, as if he'd crush the skull between his hands. Duo's fingers dug into Heero's arms, attempting to break the hold; it wasn't happening. His boot landed with extensive force on Heero's instep. The hold broke and Duo shoved with the strength of both arms behind it.
Heero gripped his fingers tight into the mesh of Duo's shirt, dragging the man with him as he spun back away from the wall. He hooked a foot behind Duo's ankle and the longhaired man went down, Heero on top of him.
Landing with a loud cry, his head cracked on the carpeted floor. Duo's eyelids fluttered, his hands clenched into fists around the tanktop straps. He had a moment to weigh options, and Heero recovered, lowering his face. For a wild second, Duo thought Heero'd taken up biting. And then lips were on his, demanding, harsh and brutal. He shuddered, felt his shirt released as fingers climbed higher, threading themselves deep behind his braid.
He met the kiss, putting the anger charging through his veins into it. Legs tangled, shifted and Duo's legs bent, dropping Heero between them. He slid his hand down, worked it under the tank's hem and raked blunted nails down Heero's back. Heero rumbled deep in his chest, the vibration felt through shirt layers. Duo wanted to laugh at the petulant sound, but the tongue in his mouth stifled the impulse.
Duo hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until they flew open in shock; Heero had rocked his hips. Duo arched up, meeting the thrust but breaking the kiss. His gasp loud and strangled, his fingers dug into flesh on Heero's shoulder, in his back. "Fuck," the word was released in a lengthening breath.
Mouth moved over his jaw, sucked on his chin and nipped at his neck. A hand slid down over his shoulder, along his waist to wedge its way between carpet and back; its fingers spanned low, supporting the arch as another thrust rocked into him. Roused, and aroused, he pulled Heero's head up by a handful of hair.
"What the fuck, Heero?" he demanded.
Breathing harsh, strained, and with eyes bluer than Duo had ever imagined looking down on him, Heero Yuy, his Preventers partner of six years, smiled. "Isn't that what we're about to do?"
Duo swallowed, his eyes darting over the man's face. Of the many times he'd envisioned this moment, never had it been after a fight. Slowly his swollen lips curved upward. Lifting his head just far enough, he caught Heero's mouth in a quick demanding kiss. Falling back, he pushed gently on the man's chest.
"Go lock the door."
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