Series: Being Duo Maxwell
Summary: Set during Episode 9, after a certain two guys finish a basketball
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing, it's characters, settings, Gundams, etc, do not
belong to me, we all know that.
There is nothing in all the
world that feels better than a shower when you're hot and sweaty. Maybe
this is something that you've known all along, but I only discovered it
about a year ago, when showers become normal aspect of life rather than
a luxury, and after a hard game of basketball, I was looking forward to
basking in all that steamy glory.
As an added bonus, the shower room was empty by now; most of the guys
had gone in while Heero and I were having our little powwow about the
ship in the harbor, and which one of us was going to get at it first.
His name was Heero.
Believe me, the irony of that does not escape me, and not just because
he's named after that leader guy, either. Although I'm starting to wonder
if he really does know -my- name, or if he just doesn't like it because
he has graciously gifted me with a new one.
Shut up Maxwell.
Yup, that's what he always calls me, at least a couple times a day. Aw,
he gave me a pet name, ain't he sweet?
Anyhow, with the showers empty, except for me and Yuy, I could goggle
at his naked butt all I wanted without anyone else getting nervous. For
some reason, naked guys get a little edgy when other naked guys eyeball
their more private parts. Cowards. Eh, they don't know what they're missing,
I say. Heero has a hell of a nice ass.
Just the mental image of that had me humming as we stripped off and I
was into a full-fledged song by the time the water was running. Just recently
I had taken to singing all the time, mostly because it pissed off Heero-boy,
and there are few things in my life that I have enjoyed as much as that.
He gives me this look that I have affectionately titled the Glare O' Death.
It hadn't worked for him yet, but he hasn't given up trying. Maybe he
hopes it'll build up in my system and I'll keel over yet.
Years ago, a kind hearted nun had told me that perhaps it would be best
if I just lip-synched the hymns on Sunday. God had a good ear and surely
He'd hear me, she'd said. I'd still gone on my merry way, belting out
the words, and looking back, I feel sorry for every damn person in that
church. Not enough to stop singing though. I'm stone- tone deaf, but I
still love a good song.
Heero just has no taste for the classics.
"People are strange, 'cause when you're a...ouch! Son of a..."
I turned around with a death glare of my own, but Mr. Yuy had already
turned back to his own shower, probably already making a mental note to
himself that if he ever wanted Mr. Maxwell to shut the hell up, all he
had to do was slap him on the ass with the end of a wet towel.
Humph. Hope he enjoyed it because that's damn well as close as he's getting
to my ass for a while.
Oh, did I forget to mention we're sleeping together?
Well, not sleeping, but we're banging like monkeys whenever we get the
chance. I think I've created a monster. Or at least woken up his inner
horny teenager. Yeah, he's playing the game just the way I want him to,
for now. We'll see how well he keeps up.
I turned back the shower, trying to keep my hair from getting wet because
then I'd have to undo it and comb it out, which is a pain in the ass in
good times, much less in a locker room full of other guys.
Now, you do not get to be a guy with hair as long as mine without taking
a little heat for it. I'm pretty used to all the cracks and girly jokes
by now, and I generally kick ass well enough in both gym and class that
I get left alone.
But for the first few weeks I'm stuck with hearing all the old jokes in
a new voice, and trust me, even if you think you've just thought up a
real zinger, don't bother. I've heard them all.
So, this being the way things are with me, I wasn't surprised when cruising
through on the way to my locker, a low wolf whistle started behind me,
and I would have ignored it if it hadn't been cut off with this weird
choking noise. Glancing behind me, I saw this guy sprawled out on the
floor holding his stomach. Huh. Weird.
Another row down, a guy called out to me, "Hey, aren't you in the
A little warily, I turned around again to find another guy sprawled on
the floor. Déjà vu.
Heero was right behind me and I glanced back at him, but soldier boy just
gave me the blandest look in his repertoire and brushed past me to his
own locker. Twenty other gazes followed him warily, and I noticed a distinct
lack of comments about my hair all of a sudden.
I've said it before, I'm not the brightest guy in the world but I didn't
ride the short bus to school either, when I could attend school anyway.
I can put two and two together and get Heero's fist equals two stomachs.
Way to keep it discreet, pal. And he was bitching at me.
Which is why it is so beyond pathetic how much it thrilled me. Sick, Maxwell,
really sick. Next you'll be asking your boyfriend to carry your books
to class. I shook it off and hurried up to my locker. I don't know who
keeps the locker rooms at arctic temperatures, but right now my boys were
trying to crawl back home and all I wanted in life was a nice pair of
A shame all my wishes aren't granted so quickly.
I had time to reconsider what I wanted as my wish for the day later that
evening, standing in front of Heero's door while I watched him type away
on his laptop. I tell you, this guy has a real obsession with computers.
I bet he gets a stiffy the second he sits down in his Gundam.
Only a few hours from now and we were going to be fighting our way through
a group of mobile suits, risking our lives and fighting the good fight,
and he wanted to...type? He'd informed me when I got here that I was early
and kept right on typing. Who knew that when I'd decided that 11:30 was
a good time for getting nookie that he'd chisel it in a stone tablet?
The 11th commandment, thou shalt not have sex before 11:30. You know,
they never mentioned that one anytime I was in church.
Takes all kinds, I guess. It's a damn shame I just happen to be screwing
one of the mechanically inclined. Or not screwing at this moment, which
was the problem.
Which brought to mind another question that had been bothering me.
"Hey, what was with that girl we saw earlier? Is she following you
around or what?" I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the
Silence. Gee, big shocker, that. No sex before 11:30 and no conversation
before sex. So Sayeth the Mighty Yuy. S'ok, though, that wasn't really
the question I wanted to ask anyway.
"So, are you banging her?" Now, it wasn't that I really cared
if he was getting dirty with the little princess in her Pepto-Bismol mobile,
but I'd rather know if there is a chance I'm going to be picking up any
cooties from him. It's good to keep track of this shit, you know.
He gave me a blank look and I groaned. Did they grow this guy in a test
tube on Mars or what?
"You're sleeping with her?" I clarified, adding in a rather
crude gesture that included poking my index finger into my loosely cupped
hand...and found myself slammed backwards against the door, Heero's hands
fisted in the loose material of my shirt as he actually lifted me off
"Don't talk about her like that," he said softly. "Ever."
I nodded hastily, for once words frozen on my tongue. He let me go and
I dropped back to my feet, nearly falling over as I jarred into the floor,
Heero turned back to his computer and I just stood there like the idiot
I was, my shoulder stinging where it had scraped against the door hinge
and feeling...hurt. Which was stupid, fucking stupid, because I'd asked
for that with a hundred percent of my usual tact. Hell, how was I supposed
to know she was...that she...
That she was someone special.
I turned on heel and left without another word. I'd learned years ago
that it was a bad idea to stay where you weren't wanted. It was a good
way to get your ass dead, and never let it be said that Duo Maxwell doesn't
have a healthy survival instinct.
He showed up at my room a little while later, right on schedule. Well,
surprise, surprise. I could have about timed the bastard by the minute.
Wonder if he wrote it that way in his little fucking day planner. 11:00
PM: kill OZ soldiers. 11:30 PM: fuck pilot #2 through the mattress.
If he did, then soldier boy was going to have to get his ass a bottle
of whiteout, because I was about to make a few permanent changes to his
agenda. Nobody fucking well treats me that way, no matter how good they
are at mattress surfing.
I have to give him a little credit; he didn't just waltz into the room
and start stripping off. Nope. Instead, he stood there in the doorway,
hands in his pockets and looking almost awkward, as if -he- was ever awkward
about anything. Unless it has to do with sex and if he asks me for a blowjob,
so help me God...
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
I didn't say anything, just stayed where I was, sitting on my bed and
reading. Not much to say in my opinion, because I figured if I did actually
say something I might just start to scream at him and that would be the
worst sin I'd ever committed. I was a fucking moron, I already knew that,
for reading between the lines, for making assumptions about him that I
had no right to make, but even I know when to stop pushing and let things
lie. Unfortunately, the spandex kid here was apparently still reading
from a different rulebook.
"Duo..." he sighed, sounding highly put upon. Oh, is the poor
baby suffering? Am I just being a right pain in your prissy little ass?
Should have thought of that before you got on your knees for me, pal,
and suddenly I found my tongue again right quickly. Fuck it. If he was
planning on killing me for what I say or do, then I was damn well going
to earn it.
"I'm trying to study, if you don't mind," I said coldly, wincing
before I'd even finished saying it because -that- was an out and out lie.
I'd been on the same page for about an hour now and like I really needed
to study anyway? We weren't going to be here that much longer.
He frowned at that. Wow, he said my name -and- I earned a facial expression
from him. I feel so important right now, really I do. Maybe if I am a
good boy he'll pat me on the head and give me a fucking dog biscuit.
I could almost feel him losing his patience when he finally stepped into
the room and I braced myself for Hurricane Yuy, clenching my fists so
hard my nails were biting into my palms. He'd gotten his way with me more
than once now with a little judicious use of force, let's see how he likes
it when I'm not so cooperative. I swear, I'll feed him his own balls before
I was so ready for the beginnings of another war (Like the one we were
already fighting wasn't enough? Gluttons for punishment, the both of us),
that it took me a moment to see that he'd stopped, frozen nearly, and
he was staring at me with the weirdest look on his face.
Pissed off or not, I was starting to think I'd broken him without even
doing anything, until I realized that from the angle he was in he could
see my shoulder in all its Technicolor glory. An ugly scratch from the
door hinge that I'd already dabbed antiseptic on, and it probably looked
a lot worse than it was. I've got that pale skin that bruises so easily,
but there was no way for Heero to know that, and he actually looked vaguely
"Duo..." he said again, waking up from his little impromptu
trance, and he reached for me that time. It was pure reflex to flinch
back, a lifetime supply of street instinct forcing me to do an awkward
little crab crawl backwards to avoid his touch. If life had taught me
one thing, it was that if they'd hit you once, they'd do it again. And
again, and again, until you're dead or at least you don't fucking care
whether you are or not. I don't want to play the game badly enough to
die for it.
Now the horror in his expression was very clear, mirrored in those deep
blue eyes of his that had enchanted me so much the first time I'd seen
them. Well, fuck that. I'd been here before and I had no intention of
playing the game this way twice.
I was a little afraid of him and I can admit it without shame. He's stronger
than me and there isn't a damn thing I can do about that. And if he was
planning on using that strength against me then he can damn well find
another fuck toy.
Except...he looked so lost, like a little kid, and he hadn't actually
hurt me himself come to think of it. Sure he'd pushed me into the wall
but not hard enough to actually hurt, it was the hinge that had hurt me
and surely he hadn't meant to...
I was making excuses, stupid fuck that I am, but hadn't I deserved it,
just a little bit? Hell, I know that some things are sacred, could I hold
it against him just because...
Just because I wasn't?
That was my real problem, and I damn well knew it. That she was more important
to him than I was somehow, and who is the real jackass here, Maxwell?
He hadn't hurt me. He'd -insulted- me. How dare he have a thing for some
other person while he was getting cozy between my sheets? How dare he
make me the second-class citizen in his little ménage a trois without
even telling me? Hell, I was the other 'woman' and I didn't even know
As if I had the right to care about that, though. He hadn't exactly gotten
on bended knee for me, and I would have laughed my ass off if he had.
No promise exchanged either way, and what the hell was it with this guy
that I made myself into a grade-A asshole every other day?
He was still standing there, still looking lost and probably feeling way
over his head here, and any second now he was going to turn away and...and
what? Leave me here? Go to his little princess?
Oh, I don't think so.
Now the only problem was digging myself out of this quicksand that I'd
so cheerfully tossed my ass into.
"Heero," I started, trying to think of how the hell I could
fix this, and he blinked, some of the emptiness leaving his eyes. "I...you
scared me this afternoon," I said quietly.
Again with that vaguely horrified look, Jesus, he was breaking my fucking
heart here! "I'm sorry..."
I shook my head hastily, geez, this was the last thing I wanted from him.
"No, wait, let me finish. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said what
I said about...her. But if I say things you don't like, could you just...maybe
say something next time?" I shrugged, feeling a little awkward myself
and I decided I might as well go for broke while I was here. "I've
just had some...bad stuff...in my past, you know?"
His eyes closed up faster than if they'd had shutters, and I knew I'd
pushed it just a step too far. Rule number one, you don't talk about the
past. He wasn't my confidant or my priest, and I sure as hell didn't want
to be his. I'm nutty enough on my own without adding his nightmares into
my fruit cocktail.
So...the score now is my bad, his bad, my bad...maybe we should stop this
before someone gets dead.
"You're fifteen," he said suddenly, calmly, a fact, and I blinked,
"Yeah, so? You are too."
He nodded slightly, and I was still a little lost kid in Disneyland for
this conversation. Why can't I ever sleep with normal guys?
Heero moved again, slowly this time, to sit next to me on the bed. He
lifted a hand to my cheek, again, slowly, giving me every chance to say
no before he stroked my cheek with the tip of one callused finger, and
who would have known such strong hands could be so very gentle?
I felt like an asshole.
Before I could say anything, Heero leaned forward and kissed me, with
all the tenderness that I sure as hell didn't deserve right now before
he murmured against my lips, "I didn't mean to hurt you."
Now, let me just say that whatever problems Heero had had with clothes
removal in the past are long since over. He is now an expert in the field
of undoing buttons, snaps, zippers, ties and various other fasteners.
Even as careful and gentle as he was being, he still had me stripped in
about .003 seconds, give or take, and God help me, I don't think anyone
has been that gentle with me in my whole life. A methodical pilot he may
be, but when it comes to sex he gives way to the more abstract and Da
Vinci gives way to Dali as his tongue paints its way over my stomach and
Fuck, I'm so horny I'm all but writing poetry. I almost wish he had shot
me. Almost, and if giving a blowjob were an Olympic sport, Heero would
have three gold medals and a commercial endorsement contract by now. I've
said it before and I'll say it again, this guy is perfect in everything
All I could do was try not to pull his hair out, as somehow my hands had
gained a side job of holding his head still while I fucked that hot, soft,
oh, god, so hot mouth of his. Trying my damnedest to keep quiet because
generally speaking, the giving and/or receiving of blowjobs, by and for
the student body, was frowned upon by the faculty of this school.
Speaking of giving and receiving...
Haven't heard of 69 yet, have you, spandex boy? I tell you, this guy has
so many cherries to be plucked he's practically his own orchard. Shifting
carefully so I didn't accidentally get my most sensitive parts bitten
off, I managed to maneuver the both of us so we were face to crotch. I
didn't bother stripping off his pants, just unfastened them enough to
slip a hand inside and rescue his poor, trapped erection.
He made a soft, startled noise and I groaned as it vibrated around my
cock. Pulling myself together as much as I could, I wrapped my lips around
the tip of his erection and sucked. He tasted salty, slick against my
tongue, and all the better for the fact that I suddenly knew that I was
the only one who'd ever done this to him. I'd taught him how to suck,
to fuck, to touch and taste, and God, this guy has a mouth on him that
is softer, hotter than my best wet dream.
A few minutes later, it turned out to be a damn good thing the both of
us had our mouths full because the scream I muffled would have woken up
half the staff, and confirmed the suspicions of our classmates about the
two new guys. He swallowed obligingly, and I moaned again, helplessly,
before redoubling my own efforts on him.
Who says those that teach can't do?
Afterward, sweat-dampened skin clinging and our heartbeats slowly dropping
from out of the stratosphere, he played with my hair, unraveling it from
the braid and spreading it all over without my permission. Again. Now,
if Relena Pizzacrust was sacred to him, then my hair was sacred to me,
but -some- of us don't mind sharing our toys.
Plus, it's pretty hard to complain when you are nearly purring. His hands
were almost as good as his mouth, sliding over my scalp and combing through
my hair. I was nearly asleep when he finally stopped and curled up next
to me. We still had a few more hours before we went after that ship, and
I took my turn at the post-coital snugglies, massaging his back and shoulders
with my free hand.
One of his hands accidentally brushed over my shoulder, and I hissed softly,
trying not to let him know. The crisis had been averted and I sure as
hell didn't want to start up the war when we were in the middle of a cease-fire.
No, I was wrong. This was two problems solved because it was -my- bed
he'd come to in the middle of the night. Mine. Damn good thing, too, because
as long as he is bumping uglies with me, there will be no banging of the
princess. One fuckbuddy at a time, pal. Thems the rules of the game.
And I'm not done playing, yet.
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