Disclaimer: What? Really? People are still confused over this?
Warnings!: This thing is about as M as M can get. I'm testing all the boundaries of my writing abilities, and that means M-rated yaoi scenes. If you don't understand what that means, then leave. Now. There's also underage sex, eventual non-con undertones, more yaoi, language, blood, gore, death, and other nasties. I'll never be able to write war is grotesque and horrifying as it really is, but I'm sure as hell gonna try.
Note: Yes, I remember most of what happens in GW, but I certainly don't remember everything, and I am known for my creative license. -_- Deal with it.
Extra Note: If I remember correctly, this starts on episode 9. We'll work our way through, and I'll try to let you know where we are in the timeline... but please. See above.
Last Note, I Swear: /screams/ I've had it! I was going to wait to try to get extra chapters done so you guys wouldn't have to wait while I struggled over this, but I feel like if I don't send this out, it'll never get done. I ask you to please tell me what you think, because I need some help with this. Thanks, guys!
Memento Mori
Translation: "Remember That You Must Die." Used as a reminder of one's mortality.
Chapter One
Temptation
Instruction in sex is as important as instruction in food; yet not only are our adolescents not taught the physiology of sex, but never warned that the strongest sexual attraction may exist between persons so incompatible in tastes and capacities that they could not endure living together for a week, much less a lifetime.
~George Bernard Shaw
Heero was sitting in front of that damn computer again. Duo stared long and hard at his back. Maybe the guy was addicted to the thing or something? Maybe the good ol' doc Heero had, whoever that may have been, had done something and now Heero couldn't go a full day without staring at that screen and clacking on that keyboard? As for him? When he didn't have to be on his computer, he wasn't. Hell, he'd just returned from basketball practice a little bit ago and was getting ready to use the shower. He'd taken off his shirt and everything.
So why was he stuck watching that idiot's hands jumping around that damn keyboard?
"Hey, Hee-chan. What are you always doing on that?" He pulled off his shorts, too, tossing them on his bed. He'd need to clean those.
"Hn. Classified."
Classified, huh? Duo thought about trying to read the screen, but if he could do it, then Heero could catch him doing it. So he just walked over the the bathroom adjoined to their room and closed the door, only then slipping off his underwear and for once tossing it in the hamper. His hair feathered against the bare skin of his rear, the natural thinness of it making it bounce and swing to Duo's every movement. He pulled it over his shoulder and tugged at its binding, pulling out a small arsenal of items as he did. The bottom few twists pulled out immediately, but the top remained taut. He worked his fingers through until his hair was loose, flowing like a stream over the curves of his shoulders and back and butt. Duo shook his head and scratched at his scalp, feeling the tingling in his scalp that told of the stress of weight. He could see himself in the mirror out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't turn to it. Instead he stepped into the shower stall and pulled the curtain. He turned the water on while he was inside and let the spray of the shower drench him in cold. He shivered but let it go.
Then he leaned against the wall and took one long, deep breath. Maybe it was from when he was a kid – his situation – but he had grown into a hormonal teenager with both hands leaping forward... or, well, curving to the left of political acceptability. Hard left. And playing basketball, while a perfect way to integrate himself with the students on campus and thus keep himself hidden in plain sight, was almost physically painful. A couple of the guys were pretty good, though of course none could hold a candle to him. But those two... one was like Goliath, a huge, hulking mass of dark-skinned muscle that only made his height seem more monstrous, though he could run down the court fast enough to block practically anyone – and create seismic events in the process. The other was more like David from the same story, his dark hair and small stature giving him the speed to bypass his guard and shoot from the three-point line. It was the shorter who grabbed Duo's attention. Sure, he liked muscle, but not when it was popping veins into the skin. If only little David was a bit taller – at least closer to Duo's height. Then he was have the perfect body type.
Except for the nose. That guy's nose was a ginormous.
Duo finally turned the heat up on the water and lifted his head. With one hand he grabbed his shampoo from the shelf, still amazed at the ability to put it somewhere other than a duffel bag. He squirted a huge amount onto his hand and rubbed his palms together, then slapped the mess onto his head. Imagining little David with a couple better features was blurring lines again. He frowned and scrubbed. It was Solo's fault. Duo blamed him.
He hurried after that, letting the shampoo soak into his hair while he lathered himself with soap, then rinsed out his hair and started again with his conditioner. Heero still hadn't put his things up on the shelves. And Duo had been so curious, too. After all, what kind of shampoo was such a guy wearing? But his thoughts turned down a more lascivious path, and Duo had to clear his mind with another shake of his head before rinsing out the conditioner and turning off the water. His hand lingered on the knob, his head hanging. His hair, plastered like paint to his back, dripped water all over him, down his shoulders and legs and chest and face, all to the floor of the tub, dripping, dripping. He closed his eyes. The mission was coming up. He'd been studying the ship often enough to know its every crevice. Tomorrow would probably be the day. After the game...
Oh, crap.
"Hey, Heero!" he shouted, pushing back the shower curtain and wringing out his hair. He didn't wait for a reply; Heero never really gave one. "We need another player, short notice. A few of the guys got sick, and one of them just twisted his ankle this practice." He heard Heero's grunt through the thin wall. It was noncommittal, the kind that told Duo Heero was neither listening nor caring. He continued, anyway, as he grabbed the towel from the rack. "Why don't you play?"
"No."
The answer was quick and curt, and Duo blew right through it. "C'mon, it'll be fun. And it'll help you blend in!" He rose his voice a bit on that one; it was a constant bone of contention between them.
"No."
Duo rubbed the towel over his scalp, then down his long, long hair. "It'll be good for you, Heero. We need some damn down-time before we're in battle again. Especially after that New Edwards disaster." Duo winced as that slipped out of his mouth. Heero had been... well, stony was the kindest word Duo could use to put it, after that mission. After they'd learned they'd been tricked, as that damn Wufei bastard told them. As if he who apparently hadn't given enough of a damn to let them know what they were doing until it was too late deserved to be so damn cocky about it. In the end, though, Heero had been the one to do the deed, so of course he'd been the one hit hardest. The man was even more like a rock than when they'd first met.
Duo wrapped his hair in the towel and swung it over his head just as Heero said, "fine."
Duo blinked. Really? He stepped out of the shower stall and pulled on his dirty underwear. Stupid him, he'd forgotten to bring in a new pair. "Awesome. I'll call the captain, then." Duo stopped in front of the sink and grabbed his brush without looking into the fogged mirror. It took a long time, but Duo had his hair brushed out, and finally he was able to pull the wet strands into three clumps and twist them back into a braid. Last came his lockpicks and needles, which were each placed in specific twists. Finally Duo walked out of the bathroom to make the call.
Heero looked up just as Duo came out, and for a moment their eyes met. Duo had to look away before his poorly hidden cock started showing something that would get him shot. And possibly in a place that may be more important than a fatal area.
He grabbed up his phone as he passed, stopping in front of his bed and twisting his movements until leaning down to his duffel bag meant catching a glance of Heero. Thank goodness, the man had turned away. And in half a moment, Heero was clacking away on that keyboard again.
Duo put down his phone and pulled out a new pair of boxers, and shimmying out of his old before pulling the new up as quickly as possible. He gave Heero another glance as he grabbed his pants and shirt. His two Winchester riot daggers went into his boots, his two krag bowie knives into slips that were placed on his underarms. The only gun he took with him was his Five-seveN, which he hid in the small of his back instead of its usual hip holster.
Lastly, he grabbed his cell phone, which he immediately flipped open. He called the coach's number by memory. "Hey," he said when the man answered, "my roommate agreed to catch Richard's spot." Duo passed Heero a peace sign, though the man was ignoring him for the siren's call of that laptop again. Duo rolled his eyes and grabbed the laundry hamper, dragging it through the room and into the hall. "Yeah," he responded to the coach's question, "he's good. We both got taught similarly."
The coach practically crowed.
Duo grinned, made a little small talk, and signed off. He'd managed to go down the halls, greeting with nods a few fellow classmates. He made one last turn, leading him down the hall that held both the laundry room and, slightly further down, the trash room. The smell was rather rank; the trash would be picked up the next day, but until then, the piles just continued to grow. Duo slid into the laundry room. Another guy was grabbing up his laundry, and Duo and he exchanged a short hello before the guy left and Duo had the room to himself. He pulled open the washer door and stuffed the clothes inside, then hesitated. He would never admit this, not to anyone, but washing machine knowledge eluded him. He'd never really been given training on such things. He'd had two outfits, and one was cleaned by the Sweepers while he wore the other. His days and nights were filled with battles – lockpicking, as if he wasn't good enough, artillery, explosives, stealth, hacking, assassination tricks. He learned them all, without time to spare for cooking or cleaning or laundry. Hell, there were times he'd been taught to fight without having eaten or drunk anything in days. Laundry had been far, far behind any concerns of the time.
So he looked at the knobs and buttons as if the machine were alien. There were buttons asking how hot the temperature could be – and they didn't make any sense! Cold cold, Warm cold, Hot warm, Hot hot? Duo glared at them. What in hell was warm-cold? Either it was warm or it was cold!
Duo frowned and turned the washer to warm-cold, not knowing if the water should be warm or cold and figuring both would work nicely. Then he dumped everything in and looked at the two knobs. One asked things about regular or delicate or whatever, and the other asked how large the load was. How was he supposed to know? It looked like the thing was half-full, so he turned it to 'Average' and just said to hell with it. A couple more button presses – how was it that Gundams were more understandable than these things? – and the thing started making creepy noises and rumbling around a bit. Duo shrugged and took the basket back to the room.
It wasn't surprising to see Heero still on his computer, and Duo did nothing but walk around and grab up his few belongings. Once the clothes were done, everything would be put back into his duffel. Things were going to be changing tomorrow night. Again.
Suddenly that clacking halted. The silence was weird; Duo had finally gotten used to the noise. He looked up to Heero and saw that his entire body was still, his fingers hovering over the keyboard like they were uncertain. The idea of an uncertain Heero put Duo on red alert. "You are sexually active," Heero said. Just like that, Duo's hackles were raised.
"What?"
Heero didn't move. He didn't even blink. "You were trained in sexual advances and interrogation techniques."
Duo scowled. "You mean like rape?"
"Among other things."
Duo dropped the basket in the middle of the room. What the hell was going on now? "Yeah, I got trained, same as you." Though he was pretty sure Heero didn't believe that, anyway. Heero saw Duo as inferior. And since Duo's experience had already been... started, his training had skipped the first few basics. Technically, they hadn't gone through the same training, but like hell Duo would tell Heero he might actually be comparatively lacking in some way. "Why, exactly?"
Heero shook his head and began clacking again. Duo had the sense that he should back out of the room. Instead he stood in that one place, not knowing what would be stupider – walking away and showing a weakness or stepping forward and seeming aggressive. He raked a hand through his hair. Great. Perfectly great. Now he had to hold his gun while he slept.
Finally he managed to pick up the basket and deposit it in the bathroom again. Heero's hands didn't so much as pause on the keys. His head didn't move. For all intents and purposes, it seemed as if he'd never spoken. Maybe it was some sort of warning? But Heero didn't seem the type to give warnings. Heero didn't seem the type to look outside of himself. Did the man even know they had the same mission? If they didn't have the same room, would the man even know he was around?
Well, that one, at least, was a stupid question. Heero was aware of every person in a five mile radius.
The rest of the evening was almost normal; Duo finished the last of his homework and cleaned his guns while Heero... well, Duo listened for the clacking and kept his weapons on-hand. Just in case. The evening stretched into nighttime, with Duo's wash finished and the basket now on his bed, brimming with his and Heero's clothes. He tossed Heero's onto his bed without folding them, more so he wouldn't be caught practically fondling the material than for rudeness' sake. His own clothes he folded and then packed away, save for his school uniform for tomorrow. He'd switch out of the uncomfortable garments once it was time to roll.
The clacking stopped, and Duo tensed like a bow string until he was sure Heero was headed for his unfolded clothes and nothing more. He wasn't surprised to see the man fold everything like a well-oiled robot and neatly place each and every article in what looked like a preordained area in his own duffel. Duo watched out of the corner of his eye as Heero zipped the thing closed. He almost expected Heero to jump at him, just like a viper, reaching out his arms to wrap him in them. He knew how to twist out of them, but right before a mission? He couldn't imagine Heero being easily defeated, and one blow from the guy could mean defeat. The dude's body had survived a fall from a cliff! The man was like rock. Duo's normal skin couldn't really stand up to that kind of strength.
But Heero didn't move toward him. He didn't move much at all. Instead he sat on that bed of his and stared out at nothing, giving a deceptively calm appearance. But Duo could read the lines of steadiness in his seating posture and the looseness of his arms, and he knew better than to think the man was anything other than prepared to kill. And those beautiful eyes were cold and heavy with something Duo couldn't name, an idea that didn't seem to want to take root. Heero shifted then, and a faint twitch of his eyebrows gave a small, almost insignificant sign of something. Annoyance? Frustration? Disgruntlement? Heero stood, looked to his computer, and didn't move. "I will have sex with you."
Duo's jaw dropped.
Heero almost started pacing; there was something in his stance that said he wanted to. His hand twitched, too, as if it wanted to go somewhere, but it was stopped and he was still. "Stress can lead to impaired judgment; impaired judgment leads to death. Before that happens, release your stress. The quickest and most efficient solution is sex, but women get pregnant."
Duo listened to it all and knew Heero was quoting someone. His trainer? The dude must've been a sicko. It would explain a few things. Duo thanked Shinigami he'd been brought up through his training with the Sweepers. They were a cold bunch, but solid and loyal. They, for instance, wouldn't steal parts from an ally. Or tell him to fuck if he was stressed. Wait... why in hell was Heero stressed? "So... what?" Duo's voice was a little squeaky, but really, who could blame him?
"So I will have sex with you." Heero looked at him then, and there was no trace of embarrassment or even remorse. Duo understood then how this would go down. Either he would refuse and have a fight on his hands – one that he wasn't sure he could win – or he could agree, have quick sex with an absolute hotty, and get away from it with nothing more than a sore ass. He considered it for a moment, but only because he was sure there was some sort of stipulation. There always was. But if Heero had any plans to tell him said stipulation, Duo would already have been informed.
Finally he shrugged. "Yeah, fine. I've got a hankering."
Heero didn't wait for anything more than that; he swept past Duo to double-check the locks on the door and then turned on him. The idea of a viper hadn't quite been wrong; the man's hands shot out and pulled Duo into his chest, and those frowning lips crushed on Duo's. It was surprising to feel a small jolt up and down his back, but that only meant it wouldn't be a chore. Heero's hands fumbled for a short millisecond on Duo's shirt. Had the man ever been the one in control before? Duo wondered if he should take the initiative, but Heero growled when he tried to lift the man's shirt up. He was backed into his bed and pushed until his knees bent and he fell onto the mattress, making the old springs creak. Heero wasted no time on foreplay; those hands ripped off Duo's shirt, then his pants, and only stopped for a second as he held himself up over Duo, looking over the newly revealed wares. Something flickered in those eyes again, but Duo didn't get the chance to see it before it disappeared. When Duo made to run his hands down Heero's sides, he was growled at again. Finally he let his hands go limp at his waist and let Heero do everything, as he apparently wanted.
His weapons were taken off, leaving him more vulnerable than just losing his clothes, and only then did Heero take off Duo's boxers and toss them over the side of the bed, within easy reach. Heero, on the other hand, only divested himself of his spandex shorts. Duo frowned, wanting to see everything, but he was content enough to find out that Heero wore a fat wad of nothing under those skintight things. Heero placed his own gun on the corner of the bed and lifted Duo's hips onto his shoulders. Duo grimaced. If they were going to do this dry, then he'd underestimated the cost.
Heero's eyes were bright as he stopped, his breath almost heavy. Duo looked up and saw something like uncertainty for a brief instant. There was no doubt that Duo's interest was high – men couldn't hide that – but Heero could tell it wasn't at enough of a peak, and his eyes lowered to it. Something definitely flickered in then. "Just do whatever, man," Duo said, and grinned up at Heero. The man grunted. Still he didn't move, almost seeming fascinated with what was underneath him. It was definitely Heero's first time in control. Duo would know – he'd never really had that position, himself. "Just go with it. You know what you want – just make sure I'm not fucked over instead of just fucked, okay? I need to be able to fight, same as you."
It seemed to clear something in Heero's head, because he reached up and stuck two of his own fingers into his mouth and sucked. Duo watched those eyes deepen and darken and felt that weird flutter-spark thing. It made his eyesight flash white, and finally Duo was up and ready for action. Heero looked down at the evidence and let his fingers go free. They trailed down from Duo's sac to his hole, just rubbing it for a moment before the first finger plunged in. Duo bucked slightly, his breath hissing a bit in pain. Heero stilled his hand while he spat into his other, rubbing that liquid on his own erection. The time it took was short, and a second finger joined the first, the second one almost dried by then. Duo rode it until it became easier, then nodded. Heero scissored for a moment, stretching, before he obviously thought it was all taking too long and positioned himself. The plunge of cock into hole was painful, greedily so, as Duo silently yelped. Duo could feel the lubrication of his blood finally coming in, and Heero rode the new slickness hard, not forgetting to grab Duo and pump him, too. Duo clenched his fists into the sheets and bit his lip to keep from making noise, and just like that it was over. They both jerked and spasmed to completion and lay for almost a full five seconds before silently getting up and cleaning themselves, Duo carefully keeping his hair out of the shower so he didn't have to deal with that again. Then it was time to clean up the sheets – Duo hardly recognized that they'd done it on his bed, or that he was the one cleaning said sheets, taking another load to the mystery machines in the laundry room.
His body was sore as hell, but hell if any stress he'd felt wasn't gone.
I lie here in the wet patch in the middle of the bed
I'm feeling pretty damn hard done by, I spent ages giving head
Then I remember all the nice things that you ever said to me
Maybe I'm just overreacting, maybe you're the one for me
There's just one thing that's getting in the way
When we go up to bed, you're just no good
It's such a shame
~ "Not Fair," Lily Allen
It splattered onto his face, wet and white. Dodger licked off the worst of it and looked up, his dick pulsing. Solo's hazel eyes opened, and he grinned. "Good job." Solo patted him on the head like he was a mouse and pulled his pants back up. And as Dodger watched, he walked away.
He sat there for a moment, feeling such discomfort he couldn't believe it didn't kill. When he stood, his dick stood against his pants as if putting up a tent. He took a deep breath before pulling his lips back. What the hell? He'd been offered a place beside Solo and all the rewards the position brought. What rewards? This hurt. He'd prefer the touch of the military to this.
Finally he sighed and walked off to his corner of Solo's space. The older rat had his own piece in their nest. Maybe staying in here was a reward, but not if he had to keep doing that. Dodger reached down and tried to hide the strange twist to his ripped tunic, his fingers brushing over the hard flesh beneath his clothing. His breath hitched. That felt good. No wonder Solo had sounded like he'd had such fun. No wonder the body sellers – whores – swaggered. No wonder people took this feeling from those who didn't feel it, too.
He played on his clothing like others played music for the first time, almost afraid of what he might do. It felt like the blood in him was turning white-hot, pooling down to his groin and boiling inside him. He gasped at the feeling. Was this what Solo had felt? Why hadn't he been given anything? Why hadn't Solo done this? It felt really good.
He took off his pants and stepped away from them, finally holding his dick the way Solo had shown him just before. With his whole hand around it, the pounding seemed even harder, the blood even hotter. He bit his lip and felt his hips buck. It made his hand slide a little further up, and the punch of warmth left him moving his hips again, then again. He had to swallow back the noise in his throat. The white-hot furnace in his body got almost painful, and with a breath he felt it explode, covering his hand and the dirt floor of their hideout. He panted. His knees felt weak. His hands shook. He'd made a mess, but it fell around where Solo's had, and he hoped it would all blend in. But maybe he was supposed to clean it up? How?
Finally he decided to dig up the dirt and rearrange it on the floor until the mess was buried. It was almost midday then, far past time for him to get his rest before he worked the evening. He moved back to his corner and lay down in a little ball. It was warm out for once, the heat in the colony finally spurting back on. The problem now would be fires, as the system started spitting sharp, painful lights. There would be smoke. There would be death.
But for now, there was warmth and the promise of safety from those outside the room guarding the area, and Dodger let himself slip into sleep.
The most persistent sound which reverberates through men's history is the beating of war drums.
~Arthur Koestler, Janus: A Summing Up
Heero was as good at basketball as he was with everything else. When Duo had arrived at the game late – teachers apparently didn't appreciate threats to other students, whether they deserved them or not, though it was perfectly okay to pull another guy's hair – he found Heero sitting on the bench. Coach informed Duo that Heero had refused to go on the court without Duo, and the scoreboard had read them behind by almost 50 points. But now they were at the end of the game and only had one more point needed to win. It was almost too easy to pass the ball to Heero and watch that body move to the basket. And of course the man bounced the thing up and off the backboard before slamming the ball into the net. Heero hung there for a few seconds. It was enough to give Duo a nice view of those arms and legs.
The crowd screamed as the buzzer sounded, and all the members crowded around the two of them as Heero finally landed back on the ground. Duo went on autopilot, cheering and high-fiving and laughing. Heero was looking at the net like it had said something dirty to him. Duo guessed the guy hadn't meant to show off his skill to such a level.
It was hard to believe he'd actually felt that flesh on him. Heero, of all people. It was something he hadn't been able to fully twist inside his own head. Heero, Mr. Perfect, Mr. Stoic, somehow felt the need for sex, too. Hormones on such a well-oiled machine, who would have guessed? And it had been so fast, the idea of having done it with Heero seemed dream-like. The only proof of it now was the ache in his ass, a vivid reminder of the blood he'd cleaned from his sheets. But for a moment as he stood in that crowd, he thought he could see those short moments again. And despite the great orgasm and the feel of Heero's hand around his cock, the thing Duo remembered most vividly was that moment of hesitation, that flicker in Heero's eyes as he tried to figure out what to do, as he struggled to accept dominance in a role where he'd clearly played submissive. Those deep blue eyes had looked almost afraid.
Why did that make Heero seem charming?
It was after he'd joked to Heero to wave to the crowd that he became aware of his surroundings in a snap. He felt eyes on him – not the eyes of the crowd or his teammates, but eyes of an enemy. Duo itched. It was impossible to play basketball and carry weapons, and he felt like maybe Heero had been right – this was too large a danger. Heero turned away from him and walked away. Did he not feel it? Were the eyes not on him? Duo couldn't believe it. His cover had been blown and not Heero's? He kept his cocky grin in place as his gaze swept the area. He couldn't see anyon,e but that really wasn't a surprise. He waited until Heero was out of there, heading away from the gym lockers and toward the courtyard. Then he waved off his fans and left the court.
Around the area was field and courtyard, an area made to overlook the ocean – and the military ship docking within. There weren't many places to hide; trees didn't offer much protection when they were thin and sparse, which they were in the field. That left the school buildings. He made to check them when his coach clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey," he said, and Duo turned his grin on the man. "Your friend looks like he could use some cheering up." Coach pointed behind him and grinned his crooked grin. The man had broken his jaw once as a child, and Duo could see the miniscule imperfections the injury had left.
The itching feeling was gone, but Duo knew he hadn't imagined it. Someone was out there. He had to find out who and kill them. He looked toward the courtyard and nodded. "Yeah, sure. He's always been a loner – probably isn't thrilled with all the attention."
Whether Coach had something to say to that or not, Duo didn't stick around to find out. He slipped away from the man and went to Heero, trying to act as if the loner was only a passing acquaintance and not a fellow Gundam pilot. Just down the basketball and tennis courts sat the courtyard, a pretty little place filled to the brim with landscaping. Heero sat on one of the benches at the fenceline, practically sitting on the water, his gaze out at sea. Duo walked up to him with footsteps loud enough to carry, but the teen only turned to look at him once he was close enough to be considered normal. It was a thing of habit, not one of normality. They were the only ones in the courtyard. Looking as soon as he'd heard would have been normal. But Duo just smiled and gave Heero a little wave. The feeling hadn't returned. Duo's little stalker was still MIA. For the moment.
His conversation with Heero wasn't what the coach had expected, Duo was sure. From blending in to eminent military assaults, none of it really constituted average teenage drama. Duo was almost expecting it to go smoothly until a car came up behind them and Heero turned to the sound of a car door shutting. Adrenaline slammed through Duo's veins, but at his turn, a girl stood before them, a horrifically pink limo sitting shamefully behind her. Duo recognized the prim stature and long blond hair. It brought memories of Heero, too, and of the smells of sea and sky. His first moments on Earth had been spent shooting one of his allies.
"Hey, that's..." Duo said, staring at the girl like she had green skin.
"Relena," Heero said, giving the girl a name, a voice, a body. Was that why he'd hesitated when he'd had the gun trained on her? Because he'd had a name?
But then Duo registered the emotion in the man's voice – surprise, obviously, but there was something else. Something deeper. Frustration sat beneath it, but maybe that was caused by that... other tone. Duo hardly recognized it himself; it wasn't like he'd had thousands of opportunities to become acquainted with it.
The girl walked up to them, her hands pressed together, and gave Heero both a respectable berth and a weird, cocked-head, eyes-closed grin. "Heero. I wanted to see you."
Good Lord, he'd stepped in it. Duo took a deep breath. "Well, she's not your average chick, wanting to see the guy trying to kill her." Unless, of course, Heero wasn't planning on killing her anymore. Duo hadn't been with the guy all the time since he'd rescued the man – maybe they'd reconciled. Maybe that was why Heero had needed sex, and not just stress from the job. Duo had thought the New Edwards fiasco had bothered the guy, but maybe this little blond thing was the real culprit.
Heero just humphed and looked away.
No matter how hard Duo looked, he could find no trace of enemies. No one had entered his and Heero's room, and there was no gunpowder, no oddly marked area, no security film – or glitches – that said someone had been around. Duo wanted to think that it was just a sore loser of the game, but the threat of death had been real. Whoever it had been had wanted him dead. He had grabbed his things from his room with Heero, destroyed his cell phone, and made his getaway. The name Duo Jackson couldn't be used again, either. Maybe he couldn't use the name Duo again, ever. That would blow.
His race with Heero over who would blow up the ship first got stolen from him, and he went on his way with Heero's laughter still ringing in his ears. Heero's somewhat maniacal laughter. Maybe Duo had slept with the pretty-but-psychotic type by mistake.
Of course, in the end it didn't really matter. He and Heero only met one more time, in a small safehouse where they played the horizontal hustle only a few more times before they went to Siberia and Heero blew himself up, leaving that beautiful body a wrecked corpse on that bitch Une's battlefield.
A/N: For Cat, ClosetGoth, Starember19, Star and neko, and everybody else who have been faithfully awaiting my next work (LOVE YOU GUYS!), but especially for Gody, who asked that I write a story from when the boys were teens. Hope you like, Gody. ^_^
