Hentai Mission
Gundam Wing
Prologue: Make Love Not War
by Ashura
Challenge details
below!
WARNINGS: Extreme silliness, overuse of stereotypes,
parody, and gratuitous yaoi sex.
PAIRINGS: 1x2/2x1, 3x4/4x3, Computer+1
DISCLAIMER: If they ever were mine, surely after this
incident, CPS will come and take them away.
****
In a dark and
dingy room, on a distant space colony, five old men (and one younger, handsome
one) sat around a table. It was a
secret meeting, a negotiation between the colonies smartest, most dedicated
rebel leaders and their arch-nemesis. The fate of the world, of mankind, of total pacifism rested in their
wrinkled, arthritic--and in one case titanium--hands.
"Hmph!" said the one with the aforementioned
titanium clamp where a hand should have been. "I'll see your power converters, G, and raise you one super vernier
rocket!"
"You only
have an extra one because your kid stole it off my Deathscythe!" the one
with the hook nose and cone-shaped hair retorted, but he took the bet. "That's it. We're running out of things to bet. I call."
The six men--the
brightest minds the world had seen in centuries--lay down their cards.
"NO!! It
can't be!" Dr. J gasped in disbelief.
"And here I
was watching /you/ for cheating," Master O told Professor G, shaking his
head sadly.
Treize
Khushrenada indulged in an extremely self-satisfied smile. "Well, gentlemen," he said
gracefully, "that does seem to be the game. Since I doubt any of you want to raise the stakes any
higher?"
The doctors
grumbled. No, they did not. Treize smiled again.
"Well
then. See that you keep those pilots of
yours out of my hair for a month at least. I'll hold you to it."
"Those are
the terms," the more honourable of the engineers agreed grudgingly.
"But no more
outright attacks on the colonies!" G reminded the Oz leader--he'd had one good hand this game, at least.
Treize inclined
his head. "I wouldn't dream of
it. I honour my debts. Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have a
war to win. Which should be considerably
easier without having to worry about Gundams showing up at inconvenient
times. I'll show myself out."
He left. Not a single one of the booby-traps rigged
in the super-secret passageway went off around him. Dr. J sighed in disgust.
"All right, fine,"
he admitted, growling. "So
inviting him to negotiate during poker night was a bad idea."
Instructor H
smiled. "As long as we have to complete this objective anyway," he
suggested, "care for a little wager between friends...?"
******
Meanwhile, in the
safehouse, the pilots were relaxing and enjoying themselves. It was a lavish, expensive safehouse,
because somewhere long ago in Quatre's family history, someone had decided to
spend a lot of money on it despite the fact no-one intended to live there. They weren't supposed to be staying there,
of course, since Quatre was disinherited, but since his father was dead they
expected nobody would remember the place existed and show up to catch them. And even if someone did, they had five
well-armed Gundams in lieu of rent.
Duo was taking a
very long shower, singing Dead Milkmen songs at the top of his lungs, and using
up a colony's worth of hot water washing his hair. Wufei was kicking things and chatting about strategy and justice
with Heero, who was typing on his laptop and wishing Wufei would go away so he
could sneak off and join Duo. Quatre
had dragged Trowa off to one of the other rooms and was in the process of
making the bed squeak, which nobody
objected to because it was his house, and because sometimes there was a gleam
in Quatre's eyes (especially where Trowa was concerned) that made one think he
wasn't entirely stable and it was just better to let him do as he pleased.
Heero's laptop
beeped. He didn't hear it, because he
was busy paying attention to how red Wufei's face could get right in the middle
of a really good Justice rant.
"BEEP!!!" the laptop said again. Heero ignored it. The laptop shot a jolt of electricity shooting out at Heero's
arm.
"Itai!!" Heero yelped, and turned his attention back
to his computer.
"That's
better," it informed him jealously. "Bad enough when you're paying attention to Duo instead of me, but
/him/--?"
Wufei considered
hitting Heero's over-possessive computer with something hard and solid. Like a broadsword. Or a Gundam. Or maybe a
battleship.
"Omae o korosu!" Heero told the computer angrily.
"Oh,
I love it when you talk dirty," the computer smirked. "You have a mission, cheese-head, you
want to hear the details or not?"
"Heero,"
Wufei remarked, "I don't remember your computer talking before."
Heero
shrugged. "It only does it
sometimes." He leveled a Death
Glare (tm) at the computer. "What's the mission?"
"It's
a secret," the computer crowed in delight.
Wufei
wondered if a battleship would do quite enough damage.
"Oh,
all right, I'll tell you," the computer said. "But you have to go get the others first. This is a mission for all five of you, from
all five of the scientists, and I only want to go over it once!"
Heero
seized this golden opportunity for what it was. "I'll get Duo," he told Wufei, "you get Trowa and
Quatre."
"I'm
giving them twenty minutes," Wufei informed him flatly. "They should be at least ready for a
break by then."
Heero
tried not to grin. "Perfect."
****
Forty-five
minutes later, four sated, happy pilots and one extremely frustrated one
crowded in front of Heero's laptop.
"Okay,
spill it," Duo commanded. "What's this mission about?"
The
laptop said nothing.
Heero
cleared his throat and pointed his gun at the screen.
"Oh,
all right," the computer said, pouting. "Though I still don't see what you see in that--" It broke off, thinking better of insulting
Duo, because Heero's finger was starting to twitch on the trigger. "Fine, fine, here's the mission. For the next month, you're not to do any
fighting. Any of you. You have to team up and win a bet
instead."
"A
bet?" Duo repeated. The computer ignored him.
"Heero
and Duo are one team. Quatre and Trowa
are another team." The pilots
nodded. They had all expected this, and
even if they'd been assigned to other teams they would have found a way around
it eventually. "The bet is to see
who can have the most sex, the most ways, in the most bizarre locations over
the course of that month."
Blood
began to spurt randomly from noses. Five pairs of eyes got very, very wide.
"Uh.../excuse/
me??" Quatre blinked big, blue,
disbelieving eyes at the computer.
Laptops
can't nod, or smirk, otherwise this one would have. "You heard me, loverboy. You and Gumby there have a month to experiment. Play with your fetishes. Invent new ones. Try some different places. Get as creative as you can."
"Oh,"
said Quatre, the wheels in his twisted little not-entirely-sane mind already
spinning away.
"Wait
a minute," said Heero, since Duo was still regaining his voice. "You mean my /mission/ is to have sex
with Duo?"
The
laptop sighed. "Much as it pains
me to admit it, yes. Lots of sex. Lots of creative sex."
"And
you're sure this is for the good of the colonies?" Heero, however hopeful he was, remained
suspicious.
"Look,"
said the computer, "I'm not an ethicist. I just report these things. The
scientists say to pass along the mission profile and tell you to have sex. I'm not happy about it, but I'm not making
it up."
"Hn,"
Heero conceded. It was unlikely that
his jealousy-prone computer would voluntarily tell him to spend more time
with Duo, after all.
"I
have just one question," Wufei interrupted, his face a little green,
"though I admit I may not want to know the answer. Where do I fit into all this?"
The
computer wished to all the electronic gods and calculator saints that it were
possible to grin evilly. And
cackle. And maybe rub its hands
together, if it had had hands. But
alas, all it could do was take great pleasure in telling Wufei, "You get
to be the judge!"
A
strangled noise that might have been trying very hard to be a word garbled in
Wufei's throat.
"Yeah,"
Duo agreed. "/What/?????"
"Wufei
is the judge," the computer repeated. "He has to verify that the rest of you have actually done
everything you said you have. Then he
tallies the scores up at the end and decides who's the winner."
Wufei
began to edge slowly away, even though there was nowhere to go.
"Well,
my work here is done," the computer said, quite pleased with itself. It had not only been the centre of attention
for several minutes, but it had rendered Duo speechless and scared Wufei half
to death. Some days are just productive
that way. "You've got tonight to
plan. Mission starts tomorrow, 0800 hours."
It
shut itself off.
"I
don't know," Duo said after a long moment of silence, "if I should be
ecstatic or terrified."
Quatre
shrugged. "May as well make the
most of it," he said with a suspiciously ZERO-system-ish smile.
End
Prologue
*****
THE
CHALLENGE:
Oh,
I'm sure you can guess.
Write
lemons to fit in somewhere with the...er..."bet." This is a good excuse to write weird
creative kinky sex. There are no rules
except that the pairings remain 1x2/2x1 and 3x4/4x3, otherwise how will poor Wufei know who wins? (You can write him in there too, either as
watcher or participant, if you're feeling particularly sadistic. I don't care.) The challenge can go on forever, kinda like the Blanket Scenario,
if we want it to. Just have fun with
it. That's the idea. Oh, and it'd be nice if when you /do/ write
a fic for it, if you mentioned somewhere that it went along with "Hentai
Mission Gundam Wing," just so I can keep up with who's writing for it.
Well? Mission accepted?
Ashura