Here's another Gundam Wing yaoi story written by Amaranth and I.  It's
titled "Shellshock."  It's alternating POV.  I'm sure you guys can figure
out who says what and when from the format of the story.  When the story
changes POV, I made sure I hit the "Return" key three times so that nobody
will get confused.  BE WARNED!!  THIS IS YAOI/SLASH!!  If you don't like
stories of this type, DO NOT read it.  But believe me, there is a plot as to
why the characters are doing what they are doing in such a violent way but
you'll have to look for it.  Constructive C & C is welcome.  This is by far
my favorite one so far.  Why?  For those who knows me well, you'll know when
you read the content.  Have fun reading.

Shuichi Minamino
============================
SHELLSHOCK
by Amaranth & Shuichi Minamino


	The war is not ending.  This is just another day at war, another evening
after the battle.  Guilt and pain weigh upon me as I watch the last mobile
suit gets destroyed by my own hands.  I think of all the people who may
have died under the hands of Sandrock, and their mourning family's cursing
murderer, wishing him to die.  With a sigh, I park my Sandrock next to your
Heavyarms.  I'm exhausted as I sit in the cockpit for a few more minutes.
Then, seeing that you have not come out of your Gundam, I decide to look
for you myself.
	I know you've expected me to come, for this is what I've been doing
everyday for months.  Meeting you privately whenever I can.  The entrance
to your Gundam opens as I come near.  I enter and see you sitting there,
your eyes staring at the control panel of your Gundam.  I walk toward you
and arrive at your side.  When you have not greeted me, I become worried.
"Trowa..." I say as my hand reaches out to touch you on the shoulder.
	I gasp when you pull me to you suddenly and I stumble onto you.  Your arms
wrap around me as you rain kisses on my face and neck.  Your hands reach
up to unbutton my shirt.  You gently slide it off my body and start to kiss my
shoulders, running your soft hot tongue over my skin, leaving a trail of
wetness that feels cool against the air...



	I push your shirt higher, higher still, forget the buttons, I'm too
engrossed in my passion to bother with them.  I pull your legs so that
you are seated upon my lap, staddling me, your cock pressed against
mine.  I rub against your crotch, moaning, as I rip open your shirt exposing
your erect nipples to my sight.  I look at you with a hungry gaze and you
say. . . Well?  I'm waiting. . . 



	I recognize that look in your eyes, you want it.  I say to you, "Go ahead
Trowa, take them... I want to feel your tongue on me and make me hard from
it."  I kiss you slowly and softly as my body press against yours.  I
too, am turned on.  After a long day at war, I need something to relieve my
fatigue and my guilt for killing.  You are my sanctuary Trowa.  I press
against you even more, wanting to feel heat rising from your body into
mine.  I raise myself from you again, waiting for you to do something
to my exposed chest.  I know you were going to do something from that
look in your eyes.  What are you waiting for?



        I look at that lovely expanse of flesh, your taught belly, I think
of all the death we have seen, and I want to feel so close to you, I want to
crawl inside your body so that we can be one.  I settle for scratching a
straight line down your chest;  I hear you gasp in surprise and look
down.  We both watch as the blood wells up from that scratch, and I lean
down to lick it, following its path all the way to your belly button;  I dip my
tongue into your belly button once, before lifting my head to yours to let
you kiss me and taste your sweat and your blood.  I open my shirt to
you, and I feel your hands on my nipples.  "Trowa. . . " you say,
hesitantly, and I know that there is something on your mind, something that
you wanted to try, maybe?



	My fingers enclose upon your nipples and pinch them lightly.  I hear your
gasp and still, not releasing them, I pull at them.  You snap your head
back as you bite back a moan.  I smile to myself.  It's not over yet.
 I'm gonna get you back for scratching me.  I lean down and kiss you on
your mouth.  Just as you are about to slip your tongue in, I stop.
Instead, my mouth goes to your ear, licking and tracing your ear lope.  I then
start to kiss your neck, lapping at it while hearing your soft groan.  Then,
without warning, I bite down sharply on your shoulder.



	I gasp at the feeling of your sharp little teeth clamping down on my
shoulder.  I turn my head and we look into each other's eyes as you lap at
the blood. . . man you are so sexy.  I moan, my hands undoing your fly,
going down into the back of your pants, gripping your ass and molding your
erection against mine.  I kiss you again, but this time, I bite your lip,
making you bleed, feeling your blood run into my mouth, such a sweet
elixir. . . 
        I grab you by the hair and I pull, hard enough to make you yelp.
Your head goes back and I lick your chin, your neck, nibbling at the chin.
. . one hand still on your ass, my nails digging in, making bloody half
moons in your flesh.  Finally, I put my hands into your fly, grabbing your
cock, squeezing hard, watching you  moan in pleasure/pain, your eyes hazy,
blood on your lip, blood on your belly, blood on my shoulder.  "C'mon,
sexy," I say, "I want more."



	I run my tongue over my lips, licking the blood off my own lip, tasting
the rusty taste of it and smile down at you.  This is the roughest you've
been yet, painful though it is, I like this.  Now that you've gotten me
started, I'm not going to stop.  I bend down and run my tongue over your
shoulder again, nibbling and sucking at the small wound that I've made,
before moving to your neck, then to your collarbone.  I grind my teeth
against your bone, hard.  I bite through that thin layer of skin over the
one and hear you moan.  Not yet, still need to get even with you.  My hand
reaches down to the front of your jeans, undo the button and the zipper,
reaches in and grab your crotch, hard.  You jerk in response to my touch. I
squeeze hard, my fingernails digging into that flesh, hearing your groan
again.  Well, that's going to leave nail marks if not blood marks.
	Still keeping one of my hands on your cock, my mouth moves down, my tongue
traces and explores your exposed flesh.  I come to your nipples, I mouth
one of them while my other hand is on the other.  You arch your back in
response to my ministrations.  Just when you are getting into it, my mouth
clamps down.  I feel a tinge of satisfaction as you gasp in
surprise and pain.



	I gasp and I moan and I scream;  everything that you do to me is an absolute
extremity of violent fucking, of sex and death and starshine and
everything in between.  And I love it all.  But I still want more.
        I grab your shirt and I rip a strip, tying it around the
base of your cock, pulling it tight, so tight that you gasp, your hands coming
down to your crotch.  I lean forward, whispering in your ear, "that should
 keep you nice and hard and ready for anything I give you."  I bite your
earlobe until I taste blood.  
        I push you back until you lean against the console, and I put
your legs over my shoulders, slapping your cock, lightly at first, then
harder and harder, watching it turn red and purple, alternately. . . such
lovely colours.  I lean down and I suck it, hard, hard enough to bruise the
skin; I bite it.  It tastes so good. . . 



	My fingers curl into fists as you bite down on my cock.  That hurts so
much but it feels absolutely erotic.  Such a paradox.  I get up suddenly
and pushes against your seat.  I lean toward you and kiss you hard and
rough on your lips.  You've taught me well.  I suck at your lips, hard
enough to make it turn blue.  I have to keep myself from laughing as I
consider how you're going to explain your blue lips to the rest of them.  I
feel you tongue slipping into my mouth and I let you.  Our tongue spar and
twist against each other, slick and wet.  I wait for the right moment and
clamp my teeth on it, hard.  I hear your muffled cry at the pain and I
taste your blood on your tongue.  Sweet, salty, rusty and metallic all
together.  
	"That's for biting my ear, Trowa." I whisper mischieviously.  I continue
my exploration.  This time with my hands.  One of my hands travel down your
 back, feeling and groping hard at your muscles while I keep my other hand
on your cock, pumping hard at it while digging my nails into it.  My free
hand travels up to the back of your neck again.  Then, I dig all of my
nails deeply into your flesh and draw my hand downward from there, leaving
several trials of long nail scratches down your back.  I can feel blood
swelling up as I do so.  I whisper into your ear again, "Now that's for
biting my cock."



        I bite my now blue lips from exploding;  it's so strange to feel
your usually gentle self doing such violent things.  But it feels oh so
wicked and oh so good. . . it's the perfect way to clear the anger and hurt
from our minds, bodies and souls.  I pull your hair again with one hand,
and pull at the tie on your cock with the other.  I suck hard on your neck,
hard enough to leave a bruise.  I do the same on your chest, on your
stomach. . . I'm marking you, making you mine, staking out my territory.
God, you feel so good and you taste so good. . . Finally I flip you over so
that you are leaning over the console, your rump in the air, your feet on
either side of me on the pilot seat, and I part your ass cheeks roughly, as
if trying to split them apart.  I lick and gnaw at your asshole, thrusting
in more and more fingers, and finally, my fist.  You gasp and scream and
moan and writhe.  My fist still up your ass, I lean over and lick your ear:
"Do you want me to fuck you, baby?  Fuck you hard and long?"



	I writhe helplessly as I feel your fist inside of me.  I can hardly
believe that you can get this rough.  But pain is what I need, I need to
forget, to make myself feel better.  I buck against you and in process
taking more of your fist into me.  I scream at the pain, at the pleasure.
I pant long and hard as I am not able to turn around to do the same to you.
 When you lean over and whisper to my ear, I turn my head around to kiss
you before biting down on your lips and suck at the newly drawn blood.
Yes, I'm copying my teacher.  How stunned you looked for that one fleeting
second.  grin at you but grimace when I feel your fist turns inside of me.
"Do it Trowa," I breath heavily. "hard...and long."



        I flex my fist inside of you, pulling my muscles tight as steel,
feeling your slick passage react to every single little movement.  I fuck
you with my fist, moving it, turning it, your ass in the air, pushing
backwards and forwards with my every movement.  Finally, I pull my fist
from your anus, brutally, and I place my cock against the opening.  
        I ram in, hard, dry except for the fluid at the very tip.  I feel
you convulse around me and I clench my muscles to keep from coming.  I pull
out even the very tip and shove in, hard and long, just the way you wanted
it.  My thrusts come faster, pushing you against the console, my
fingernails raking down your back, making a bloody roadmap as a testament
to our wild fucking.  I pull out to turn you over and push your knees to
your chest, your asshole exposed, and I thrust in once more, pulling the
tie around your dick harder and harder, tighter still. . . 



	I gasp as I feel you tighten the tie around my cock.  I can't come with
 you doing that!  But everything feels so good that I can't do anything
about everything.  My back bangs against the console as you slam into me,
hard and slow, just as I wanted.  My groans and screams echo throughout the
little space that we are crammed in.  My mind is becoming hazy, all I can
feel right now is the excruciating pain and pleasure coming from you.  I
don't even know if I'm bleeding from your thrusting.  I don't care anyway.
"I want it rougher Trowa.  Is this all you can do?"



	I laugh a harsh laugh and I pull my cock out of your ass, leaning over you
still, my hand still holding the tie.  I grab the hair from the top of your
head and pull you so that you are thrust against the back of the seat, and
I pull your legs on either side of me once more.  I shove myself back into
your ass, but this time, the fingers of my free hand (the one not holding
the tie) is thrusting itself into your anus as well, pulling you open,
stretching you apart, my fingernails gouging at the delicate membranes.
"You want rougher?  You want more?"  



	As much as it hurts, I don't care.  This is nothing compare with the
suffering other people have to endure from my killing their family members
in the war.  I know I'm screaming and I know I'm crying but I don't care.
It's you that I'm with right now and that's all that counts.  I can tell
from the wetness seeping down between my legs that I'm bleeding now, but
that's all right, I want you to do it.  I push myself against your shaft
and your fingers as you plunge into me.  Each stab of pain turns to
pleasure as we move together.  You ask if I want it rougher, without
answering, I pull you toward me and kiss you again and again.  On your
mouth, on your ear, your eyes, your neck, your shoulder and your chest.  I
suck hard at them, my frustration, my pain and my love from each of my
intimate movement.  I bite down on your other shoulder and you groan in
response.  I again lick the blood from your shoulder and kiss you again.
Then I say to you, through the tears that are now flowing freely down my
face, "Rough Trowa, I say rough."



        I feel your hurt and your pain, and I want to comfort you, to
caress you gently, but the bloodlust of the battle has not yet fully
subsided and now I find that I use you as a tool to rid myself of excess
energy.  I ram into you, over and over, and my hand comes out of your ass
to slap your cock, to grab it and squeeze it in my fist;  I thrust my
fingernail into the little hole at the tip and I hear your gasps and
screams of pain/ecstacy.  I know I'm going to come, any moment.  I pull out
of you, and I pull you off the chair.  I squat on the pilot seat, my cock
streaked with your blood and our combined sexual fluids.  I pull your head
forward roughly.  "suck me off.  I want you to take the whole thing in your
mouth.  Down to the balls. All of it.  Now."



	My mouth touches your cock lightly as I lean closer to you.  I run my
tongue up the sides experimentally, testing your response.  You jerk
against me suddenly and before I can do anything, you shove your whole
length into my mouth.  I choke on it but I cannot even cough because you
are so big.  I'm having problem breathing as you force your cock into my
mouth.  Panting heavily, I start to suck at it hard and slow.  Your hand
grips my hair and pushes my head even closer until my face is press tightly
between your thighs.  Your fist tighten in my hair as you start to thrust
into my mouth.  Sharp pain shoots down from the base of my skull to my
spine as you pull my hair roughly.  Without slowing down, I keep on sucking
forcefully at your member.  My teeth grazing and biting it all this time.
I know you're coming any minute now.  Then at the last moment before you
climax, I bite down as hard as I can, on your penis.



	I come and I spew my seed into your open mouth, I feel the head of my cock
pushing against the back of your throat.  I know that you're choking, but I
can't stop, and at the moment I don't care.  I thrust my hips forward, I
pull your head towards me, screaming in ecstacy and agony.  I keep your
mouth around my cock while it softens, during the rest phase, until it
begins to harden again.  You scratch against my thighs, begging for release,
I know you can't breathe.  I look down and your cock is turning purple.  I
finally untie the strip of cloth and I pull you down, hard, so that you are
lying on your belly on my lap.  Your cock presses against my thigh.  I look
around the cockpit until I see the gun.  You watch as I grab it, your eyes
slightly fearful, but lustful all the same.  You know what I'm going to do
with this gun, don't you?  I lick the tip, moistening the top half of the
barrel, sticking it into my mouth, and I thrust the nozzle into your anus,
making you cry out and arch your back.



	I've never expected your using the gun on me.  But the danger of it only
makes it even more appealing.  If it goes off, then maybe justice is served
for my killing.  I push my morbid thoughts aside as you thrust it deeper
into me.  I cry out at the intrusion and I bite down at your thigh, trying
to keep myself from screaming.  My hands claw at you, leaving long bloody
marks as I do so.  All I can feel now is the nozzle inside of me and your
merciless thrusting and slamming.  My penis rubs against you as you do so,
I know that I'm going to come any minute now.



	I know you're going to explode any minute. . . I can feel your cock against
my thigh, dripping with pre come, and I egg you on with my words:  "Come on,
you know you want to, I want to feel your semen all over my thigh. . . " I
pull the gun out of your ass and I turn you over, pushing you off so that I
can pull your legs to straddle me, the rest of your body on the ground, your
red shuddering cock sticking straight up in the air.  I take it in my fist
and I *squeeze* hard, and I hear you scream. . . 



	That one squeeze is all I need.  With a scream that doesn't even sounded
like me, I come all over you; my head bangs against the floor, my seeds
shoots into the air, onto your shoulder and your chest while the remaining
drips down my body.  I stay in the same position, breathing hard, and eyes
half closed.  I'm exhausted.  For some reason, I start crying again...
Perhaps it's the war, perhaps it's the pain, or perhaps it's the emptiness
in my heart knowing that both of us as well as the others are nothing but
the tools used for killing in this endless war.  I don't know and I don't
want to think right now.  All I know is that I am dead tired and you're here.



        I gather you to me, holding you close, stroking your hair,
whispering words of comfort.  I apologize profusely for my roughness with
you, I look at the bruises that mar your lovely creamy skin and I feel like
crying myself.  "It's all right little one.  I understand.  Let it out. It
has to all come out."  So strange to say the words over again, for such a
different reason.  I hold you close, trying to block out the world, the
horrors, and for this one moment in time, all that exists is you, and me,
and this incredible thing we share, surpassing sex or love; it feels as if
you are the other half of me, that you had ripped out half my heart and
replaced it with half of yours.  You _are_ me.  And I hope you know that.