((Okay, because I should have done this ages ago!!!!

Ahanchan: hee hee - I like how you think.

Ost-drauka: Thankya! S

Lil' Princess: (I love that name) I hope it continues to be of worth. And yes, thirrrrty! Old gal. I don't hold it against me though. [w]

Gil-galad: Hrmm... I think I've not the guts to go into such detail just yet. I fear for the length and patience of my readers if I let go. I will build up to it, kay? S

Andrea: Shhhhh... no telling tales. Hee.

Aaannnd Anissa: Thank you! Gotta admit, getting a review is helping keep the writing spirit alive. I'm dying to find out how Duo will explore things as well, and just what Heero has up his sleeve (considering he's over there in the corner staring at me and making "Die Woman" faces at me cause I am talking too much. Heh)

Okay. Yaoi, of course. this one a bit more hard core. And this is outside of the general story line. This time we get to read exactly what it is that is making Duo so darn happy. Forgive me. I've never written anything like this and I know I can't do justice to what Howe is actually writing. But the muse, she is a hard task master, no?

WARNING: Please be advised, I had to change the rating on this, due to Howe here. We are now in the R rating. Feel free to skip this chapter and go on to the next chapters. This is not plot specific. At least, not really.

Also, I own Howard's Boi's fic. It's not taken from any other writer. In case that was a concern. Now you all know.)


Submission by Howard's Boi 06:32 EMT 12/3

::The Collector:: [AU - DuoxHiro PWP]

"Mr. Yuy, we have another mission for you. Please advise."

The man standing against the door jamb takes his cigarette from his lips and stalks within the small dank room, the cloud of smoke whirling behind before dissipating. No words pass his lips as he thumbs the edge of the file and pulls it closer to him, flipping it open with a forefinger.

There is none in the room beyond himself and his usual contact, so there is none who would know the Collector well enough to see the expression flicker over his face, so subtle it is but a ripple on an unchanging face of deep water. Then the folder is closed and he looks up. "Dead or alive?" the soft dangerous cut of tone seems to hold more menace than usual and the contact shivers despite himself.

"Dead, please. This particular thief has taken something which can never be returned. My client does not wish for him to see another sundown."

"Of course."

And with nothing behind but the prevailing sense that a living weapon had stood there but moments before, the Collector is gone.

- - -

Duo Maxwell, son of Lance Maxwell, medical student and lover of women (much to the despair of women kind), is sick. Very sick. He's been sick on the bed covers, having to clean them up because he lived alone. Then he was sick in his trash bucket, and glad that it wasn't his floor. Now he was busy being sick in his toilet bowl. The reason? Simple enough, he had some blasted flu virus which was knocking him down and out. It wasn't something he liked to accept, for he so rarely was ill. But seeing as how he had no other choice.

Then again, two days into his hols, he wasn't going to be that upset about it. One had to figure in a bit of let down illness after the finals from the last quarter. It simply meant he wouldn't be going home for Christmas. "Not that I mind.." he coughs against the vomit laden spit in his throat and spits into the bowl. "Damn, someone should clean this thing.."

He's been vomiting now for a day and a half. He would have been worried had he thought it might last longer. But he kept some water down three hours ago and until now, was on the mend. Then this. At first he'd even thought it was food poisoning, it had come on so quickly. But no food poisoning will last so long.

Or would it? Shaking, he stands, clinging to the back chamber of the toilet bowl and then transferring his grip to the sink. With a grimace, he reaches for the bathroom door, opens it, and staggers out into his room once again. Reaching for the bed, he almost doesn't notice the dark shape sitting at it's foot.

"SHIT!" eyes widened, he draws back as if burned, staring at the menace there. For what other word could be given to a man like that? Dark hair which was dyed black, golden cream skin, and eyes like blue lasers, all around a pair of lips that put any lips he'd ever tasted (and he'd supped on a few) to shame. The man was a walking wet dream. If you were into men, that is. But even not being so, Duo was more than willing to concede that before him was something of exquisite and unworldly beauty.

The man stands then, lithe and radiating danger as he does so. Slipping a pair of sunglasses from his pocket he opens them and stares at his prey with a steady, unyielding glare. Then as slowly as if he were doing this every day, he slips them over those mesmerizing eyes and Duo finds himself looking into his own startled violet depths, reflected in the lenses that stare down at him.

"I - I - I..." Duo's mouth dries with each successive attempt to speak and when the menace reaches out to capture his braid between two slender fingertips, the ends callused in ways that did not mean hard work, but something else, for Duo had seen them many a time on his own father's hands, his father a policeman and well acquainted with wielding a gun before he ever learned to wield a hammer. "You're... you're going to kill me... aren't you?" Duo knows this, without thinking too hard about it. He knows too, that the man before him could do it just as easily with his bare hands. And while he's not entirely sure who would want him dead, nor why, he knows the type, the dark tailored suit of brackish grey hinted through with dark blue threads that would pull the blue out of those eyes, the slow, calculating movements, the expressionless mask.

And the fact that the man does not answer, only runs his thumb over the end of his braid, until overcome with both the sickness and fear, Duo Maxwell faints dead away.

- - -

Hiro Yuy is, indeed, a dangerous man. And yet here he is, flummoxed by a dark golden brown braid between his fingertips, silken and ropelike, and wanting nothing more than to unbind the tresses and watch them spill over his palms. Yes, he had seen the picture. At first, it had shocked him, seeing something so beautiful on paper. But the photograph left much to be desired. Where the photo had shocked him, the real thing, even tattered about the edges with sickness and smelling terrible, was a kick in the gut. Had Du-Mr. Maxwell been at top form, there was no telling what Hiro might have done or felt. Perhaps he would have been the one to faint.

He stares down at his empty fingers, then to the figure on the floor. Falling had taken the braid's tip from him and he considers his options. He could tie the young man up and hold his head next time he vomited. Certain bindings would leave little trace. Then let others think he had come to his demise due to inhalation of his own vomit. It was rare, but it did happen. And even more likely to happen if Du-Mr. Maxwell had not taken in much fluid due to his illness. There were no tell tale signs yet of dehydration, but considering the amount of fluid in the toilet, he was certain it would only be a matter of a day or so.

He could shoot him, make a martyr of him. Someone so beautiful would make a beautiful martyr.

He kneels beside the body of the young man and plucking him easily from the ground, deposits him into the bedding. Then sits for the braid has wound itself about his arm and he hasn't the heart to move it from his skin just yet.

Or... or... blast! Wasn't there another plan? Hiro stares down at the braid on his forearm and traces it with his forefinger. Then silently stands and goes to the bathroom to run a bath. Drowning. That was always an easy one. Wasn't it?

- - -

Duo wakes as warmth breaks around him and softness runs over his chest. His stomach tight from vomiting, he groans softly. Then opens his eyes and stares upwards at the shadowy figure overhead.

The man.. the menace, is bending over him, no longer in the suit jacket or vest or tie. His chest bare, he works carefully over Duo's body with a white washcloth, cleansing away the sickness from his skin. His dark blue eyes do not deter from their task though Duo realizes rather quickly that his own body is naked.

"Ahhh.." he means to ask a question but when those eyes flicker up to him and he is subjected to the heat which flares across his soul and burns out all resistance, there is nothing he can say nor do. And still, that hand and the cloth work, along the rounded edges of his arms and across the cords of muscle on his back. Yet as strong as Duo is in body, there is nothing to compare to the lithesome velvet strength in the slender muscles which bind the chest of the menace. Duo whimpers, surprised at the growing pool of heat in his groin. And he flushes deeply as those flaming eyes trail down his form and find where he is slowly growing under the gentle ministrations of dangerous beauty.

- - -

Hiro had not meant to wash his prey. His subject. He had meant instead, to simply lay him in the water. But then he had thought that anyone with hair like that would either not get it wet or would clean it. And sickness might lead the young man to clean it, therefore it needed to be free of it's binding. And somewhere in the process of unwhirling the softened locks, he'd forgotten his mission. The plait was far more silky outside of it's braid than it was in, and each rush of hair across the back of his hand or the inner heart of his palm or the edge of his wrist, sent shivers of desire through his body. And by the time he was finished, he could give himself a million reasons to let this moment extend, just a little longer. He'd wondered at the satin of the skin on that bare chest and by way of excuse had set out to cleanse it, leaving the golden drapery of hair spread across the upper edge of the tub like a great fan of coppery golden earth. The scent of soap was in his nostrils and his brain felt as if it were running from between his ears into his feet. No longer of any use to him, he followed instincts.

Then, a soft sound and he blinks out of his reverent study of the perfect body beneath him to meet the eyes he'd feared the first time he met them. Violet as spring, with sun shot glints running rampant throughout. Beautiful beyond compare and wide with innocence. It is the awakening that fuels his desire even more than the rest, for while there is fear in those eyes, there is also a spark of something else, a shock of ignition for his own lust. He does not stop himself, but allows his eyes to raze down the slender body, meeting with a shock that is so supreme he cannot breathe, the evidence that he is not alone in the sensations assailing him.

That is all he needs to know. With a groan so primal that he does not even notice the sound, he grabs the young man's neck as if to push him under the water and free himself from this, but instead of pushing him further under, he loops his fingers around to the back, under the damp hairs at the nape of the perfection's neck, and drags those lips up to his own, bruising them and taking what he wishes, what he wants... no - what he needs.

Hands not his own, reach up and grasp his hair, as if to pull him away, but instead, hesitate and then draw him closer and with the triumphant inner yell of the conqueror, those lips part under his and he plunders the inner sanctum of perfection, drinking deeply of his victory. His free arm reaching around and gathering the nude body to his own, wet chest to his own dry, gasping into that mouth as he feels the silken warm skin pressing to his.

Needing breath, he drops his head and buries his face into that sweetly smelling neck, and with a guttural groan he cannot recognize as his own, whispers out, "D-Duo..."

"Wha-at?" comes the broken answer as those fingers which had so tightly held his mouth to those lips under his suddenly smooth and run through his hair. A delicious sensation.

"I.. I want you." And Hiro, knowing this to be more true than anything he's ever said in his life, raises his head and looks over the man's expression under him. There is a sweetness there, a vulnerability that Hiro cannot take from the world. What he will do instead, he is not entirely sure. But he cannot complete this mission. Not if he wished to risk his own heart, what was left of it. Those words, wrung from the depths of his soul, they were everything of himself, said in so few words, all of what he would have said otherwise. 'I love you. I do not know why. But I love you. I cannot help myself. I cannot stop myself. I only know that I must have you in my life, forever. From this moment on, I will not be able to let you go without letting my very heart leave my body. I have been waiting for you, wanting you, needing you, from the day I took my first breath. But I did not know it until this moment. Please, do not deny me. Do not leave me to this hunger which will eat me alive. Do not abandon me after I've found the sole reason for my life, to live for you and to make you happy. I love you. I do not know why. But I love you. I cannot help myself. I cannot stop myself. I only know that I must have you in my life, forever.'

He is drowning in those violet depths when the fingers tighten about his skull once more and draw his lips down. It is answer enough and Hiro, blinded to everything but his need, this overwhelming need, draws his Duo from the water, stalking out of the bathroom to the small twin dorm bed. There, laying out the pale form, he worships what is before him with his hands, his mouth, nipping at collar bones, swallowing sighs, feasting on a neck which has never been touched by his lips before. There is no doubt then, that Duo has loved before. He is too perfect, too beautiful, to have gone so long untouched. But never has he been loved so completely or with such a brightly burning passion. This Hiro knows, for Hiro can sense that the love pouring from him is special, different, and greater in its intensity than any other, being as it is, given to but one other soul on the earth's surface, all which is possible is concentrated into this giving of all that he is to his lover.

He is not sure of how he manages his pants without ripping them, for he does not watch his fingers, his gaze glued onto the vision spread out upon that small bed. Golden beams of hair radiating out in long curling waves from Duo's head, the heat of violet centers in those eyes, and the pink bruised lips, parted and panting, wanting what he cannot understand, no one can understand, least of all, Hiro himself. But he is very aware as he kneels between Duo's legs and using his arms, creeps forward until he is propped above that body. And then, with a soft groan, lowers himself slowly upon the table of his lover, a feast to be served and devoured. A gasp breaks from Duo's lips and is captured in the moan from Hiro's as ache meets ache, and Hiro, unmindful of his own wish to simply take his new lover, tilts his hips and lovingly, oh so slowly, presses them even more together, closer and with more heat. It is a perfect moment, for at the push of hips forward, Duo arches his back and cries out unintelligible words of desire.

He drops his head then, tasting skin and lowering his mouth until he is able to find one of the dusky nipples upon that pale surface. Again, a cry, this time even more primal as Duo is forced into the same heaven Hiro inhabits. Hiro's lover sighs and then purrs under the ministrations even as a gasp is dragged from him once more by the sudden flick of a tongue against his other nipple.

A smile breaks a moment later, when Hiro lifts his head away and sees Duo's form, tense with want. He did not mean to take this so quickly, yet he was not sure he could wait much longer. Still, a nagging fear is at the back of his mind and he grimaces, afraid to break the mood because Duo's mood may change swiftly, at the discovery of what is to come. But he wants to have a repeat of this moment, not to take and then leave, so he groans in reaction as Duo's hips swirl upwards in a tantalizing brush against his ache and he pushes down in response even as he cries out that name again.

"D-Duo... no... wait.."

Duo's eyes open then, looking up at him, trust and beauty in those violet eyes. "Hmmmm? What is it, my Menace?"

Hiro's lips twitch. "Menace?"

"Yes..." Duo's laughter erupts and Hiro finds himself falling in love all over again. "You are a menace aren't you? Come to kill me and now taking me places I've never been? Will you kill me when this is over? I don't mind, I think. Not if it's you killing me. Because I know that I have to die and I'm not afraid of death, but I mmmmmmrrrfffmm" Duo's words stopped as horror spreads over Hiro and he descends upon those lips once more, silencing them.

A moment after, catching their breath, Hiro tries again. "You've never done this before?"

Duo smiles, shakes his head without speaking. Almost as if he realizes the importance of what it going to happen.

"I will show you. If you'll let me?" Hiro's fingers caress Duo's kiss swollen mouth in long sloping circles.

"Yes, please.." And Duo giggles, burying his face into Hiro's chest. Hiro feeling at the action that everything he'd ever dreamed has come more true than he had even dreamed it.

Wrapping his arms around his new lover, Hiro breathes lightly into that perfect ear, "And I won't let anyone hurt you.." even as he slowly begins to set up a slow rhythm against Duo's hips, stoking the fire of their desire once more.

"Not even you?" the reply is considering, yet light, so joyful.

"No, not even me..." and he kisses the mouth once more before working his way down the slope of Duo's jaw, then across the long neck, bent to allow him access. He is working his way, inexorably, toward what Duo has evidenced, unsure of how to go about this. But needing to try.

Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder and a prick of cold. "Here.." a gasp as his tongue lathes the cup of Duo's navel. "Here!" insistence. Hiro looks up and smirks, taking from Duo's grasp the KY that Duo must keep by his bed for whatever purposes or lovers, Hiro does not care. There will be only one purpose and only one lover from this moment on.

He places a generous amount in his palm and runs it over his fingers. Then trailing fingers over Duo's desire, he fists his hand and brings it fully, hot and certain, upon the length that is begging for touch. As his hand works, his lips nibble at Duo's thigh and stomach. Then a groan and Duo arches. Fearful he's missed his chance, Hiro stops, pulling away and Duo screams in agony. "NO! Anh.. keep.. keep going... "

A small smile curves the lips above Duo and Hiro looks down at his lover as he climbs back above him, not touching despite the fact that Duo seeks repeatedly to press his hips upwards. "No, something better... something better, my sweet.." his low voice drawls out in an infuriating manner, one which Duo can only moan in response to.

Hiro drops his mouth and curving his back, hovers above Duo as he kisses those panting lips, waiting for Duo to come down just slightly from the high he is too close to. Just watching him is almost enough for Hiro and he can barely contain himself. Then, sure that the pair of them are able to last longer than two seconds, he reaches underneath his body and with his slickened hand, grabs Duo's arousal and growls out, "Hiro.."

Duo's eyes open wide. "What?"

"My name... it's..." and he lowers himself slowly upon Duo's aching body.

"HIIIIIIRRROOOOO!" The sound all the more beautiful that it is Duo's voice calling his name.

- Owari -

x x x x x

Howe's Boi sits back with a groan and pops an aching back. "There..." a soft smile as the file is sent. "Just for you, Kittin. I hope you like it." Then, chewing on a lower lip, Howe stands up and heads to the bathroom to get ready for work.


((Hee hee. Hope you like it! I'm not entirely sure about the ratings. I think this is okay for a 17 year old, which is the age which is appropriate. But if not, please let me know and I can certainly tame it down. ))