Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make any money off them.
Warning: Male/male sex ahead. Language. Graphic. Violence. Bastard Heero
and Wu Fei being a complete jerk!
Lost Soldiers Series #5
Yates, Duo's new boss, looked
the ex Gundam pilot up and down angrily. To him, it was obvious how Duo
had landed such a choice job. Everyone knew that Zechs had an eye for
a pretty ass, man or woman. Well, Yates thought, he'd show this little
piece that he didn't stand for that crap when men's lives were at stake.
"You have five minutes to run through the simulated crash landing," the
big, hairy man growled as he thumped his clipboard against his leg. His
army sergeant expression and crew cut were calculated to intimidate.
Duo was astonished. "Five minutes? Do you want anyone to survive?"
The man chewed hard on an unlit cigar, moving it from one side of his
mouth to the other before barking. "What kind of question is that?!"
Duo shrugged as he opened the simulator door. "You've heard of acceptable
casualties, haven't you?"
Yates closed a hand around Duo's braid, bringing him up short. "In this
outfit, there are no acceptable casualties, got that?"
Duo looked down at the man's hand, hairy fist closed on one of the most
important things he owned, his hair. "Let go or I'll-"
"Are you threatening me?" Yates snarled.
Duo glared. He was much shorter and definitely much slighter than his
boss, but there was an air about Duo, a steely determination and a glint
in his eye that spoke of Shinigami; the killer. Yates found himself letting
go and stepping back. He raised the clipboard as if he thought that he
could defend himself with it.
"No casualties," Yates ordered. "One try. No second chances."
The man fully expected Duo to whine and to bring up Zech's name in his
defense. Duo only shrugged again and stepped into the simulator.
Duo was now in a shuttle mock up coming in for a landing. He settled into
a chair meant for a much bigger man. Looking like a child, he strapped
himself in, as if it were a real flight, knowing that the simulator would
give him just as much turbulence as one. He checked his instrument locations
and then, without even mentally preparing, he hit the switch that started
Jettison fuel so that the shuttle doesn't become a bomb, Duo thought quickly.
Detach wings so that they don't catch and tear up the shuttle on the ground.
Drop engines so that the shuttle will glide better. Deploy stabilizer
stub wings for stability. Belly down beside the hard runway into softer
dirt. Elapsed time; four minutes, fifty nine seconds.
Duo climbed out of the simulator and met the purple face of his boss.
The man was stabbing a finger at the monitor. "Three hundred dead on the
ground!" He shouted at the top of his voice, startling the other workers
in the hanger. "You dropped your engines on an apartment complex, your
wings into the terminal, and dumped your fuel on a city street where it
caught fire! What possible justification can you give me for murdering
Duo narrowed his amethyst eyes. "You told me, ‘No acceptable casualties'.
I assumed you meant in the shuttle. Run any simulation you like, you won't
find another solution that will allow your passengers to survive. I was
just the pilot," he added coldly. "You gave the orders. You told me five
minutes. You murdered those people on the ground, not me."
"You are insane!" Yates exploded.
Duo laughed. Yates was dumbfounded, not having expected that reaction
at all. "You're forgetting who you're talking to," Duo replied mockingly.
Yates threw his clipboard hard at Duo. The edge of it caught Duo in his
still healing ribs. Duo winced, but he refused to show any other indication
that he was hurt.
"You're grounded!" Yates snarled as he spun and strode angrily away, throwing
over his shoulder, "Get used to the grease pits. That's the only place
where you'll be working!"
"So much for second chances," Duo seethed at the retreating man's back
and then carefully sat on the cement hanger floor. Hugging his ribs with
both arms, Duo rode wave after wave of pain.
"Not a good first day, Maxwell?" a voice said nearby.
Duo looked up and saw the familiar face of Chang Wu Fei. Duo grimaced.
"It's just gotten worse," he replied. "What are you doing here? Last I
heard, you had a cushy job with Relena Peacecraft managing her security
"That hasn't changed." Wu Fei gave Duo an arrogant, assessing, once over.
"Looks like you haven't changed either. You're still a waste."
"Still such a ‘people person', aren't you Wufei?" Duo retorted with a
grin, teeth gritted in pain and anger.
"Have some pride," Wu Fei growled, looking quickly about them as if he
was afraid that Duo's behavior would make him look bad. "Get off of the
damned floor and face me like a man when you insult me!"
Duo slowly rose to his feet, arms still wrapped around his middle, his
plastered on smile never faltering. "I have stuff to do, Wufei," he replied
tightly. "Unless you want to have a few drinks and talk about old times-"
Wu Fei snorted derisively, "With you? The worst Gundam pilot? The fool
who soiled our reputation? We are heroes, Maxwell. Our part in the war
is honored. You make a mockery of that; the pilot who works menial jobs,
the pilot who insulted heads of state at our awards ceremony, the pilot
who was so weak he was forced to seek mental help-"
Duo went white, shocked to his core. "Who told you that? Who told you
I was seeing a doctor?"
Wu Fei sneered. "It was in the news, Maxwell. Did you really think that
bit of information wouldn't be picked up by the people who wish to discredit
the war and all those who took part in it?"
"Relena, you mean?" Duo snapped back, feeling a hot, molten flush of anger
seethe through every vein.
"Mustn't glorify war," Wu Fei said without replying to that charge. "
Mustn't have war heroes. You gave them perfect ammunition."
Duo felt a pit open up inside of himself and he felt ready to fall in.
Everyone knew that he had seen a psychologist? Everyone was talking about
it, laughing at him, maybe? Duo blamed the doctor. He knew that Quatre
would never betray his trust, gentle kindness and morals aside, Quatre
knew better than to piss off another Gundam pilot, another killer.
"You look awful, Maxwell, "Wu Fei said, breaking into his thoughts. The
dark haired, young man slitted black eyes at Duo. "You look at the end
of your rope. Why don't you do everyone a favor and hang yourself with
He turned abruptly and walked away, returning to the business he had been
attending to before he had met up with Duo. Duo glared after him and then
slowly limped out of the hanger. Going to the dorm of one room apartments
where the crew lived, where he was now living at the moment, he began
to wonder what Heero was doing.
Zechs stared at the clipboard and then glared at the big man before him.
"Yates, I want everyone to assemble here at the simulator, now."
Yates chewed nervously on his cigar. "Yes, sir," he replied and then began
shouting for his men. As they began to come from all areas of the hanger
to gather around him and Zechs, he angrily began to wonder what exactly
the long haired whore had said to Zechs.
Zechs faced the crowd. "Yates has kindly volunteered to show you his new
simulation and his skill at piloting it."
"Sir?" Yates started. "If this is about that Gundam pilot, I assure you,
anything he said-"
Zechs eyes became like cold, blue, ice chips. Yates closed his mouth.
"I haven't spoken with him," Zechs informed him. "I came to see your evaluations
of All new recruits." He glanced briefly at the clipboard. "I can see
that you used the standard simulation for all of the new recruits, except
for Maxwell. If you've instituted a new simulation, I want to assure myself
that it is up to my standards. A demonstration is in order, I'm sure you
"Yes, sir," was all that Yates could say.
"Very good then." Zechs smiled and it wasn't a pleasant smile. It was
as sharp as glass. "You have five minutes, Yates."
Zechs frowned, playing confusion. "Isn't that the time you gave Maxwell?"
"Yes, sir, but-"
"Five minutes, Yates."
Yates' shoulders slumped. He pocketed his cigar and climbed into the simulator,
knowing exactly what was going to happen and preparing himself for humiliation.
Six minutes later, Yates climbed out and faced the crowd. They were shocked,
having watched him completely destroy the shuttle and everyone on board
on a monitor. Yates said nothing, knowing his sentence before Zechs spoke,
and wincing when he realized that Zechs was going to make it even more
humiliating for him.
As if he were giving a lecture to a classroom, Zechs asked, "Who can tell
me who was at fault in this crash?"
Calls of ‘Yates' peppered the crowd. Zechs waited, ignoring them. Finally,
a middle aged mechanic said as he wiped grease off of his hands, "The
mechanic who should have checked the engines before take off."
Zechs raised eyebrows. "Partly," he said.
"You sir," Another, younger voice said at his elbow.
Zechs looked at a tall, well built man in his late twenties. He had a
shock of white blonde hair and dark green eyes. His uniform was a pilots.
Zechs didn't make it easy for him. "My fault?"
"You gave the order for a five minute landing." The man replied without
hesitation. "That Gundam pilot said the same thing to Yates. It's the
truth. It's your fault that the shuttle crashed."
Zechs watched the young man's eyes. They didn't waver. Zechs nodded finally.
"Excellent, but what possible landing could have saved both shuttle, passengers,
and civilians on the ground, even if more time had been allotted?"
Another young man looked at the screen and the mock up scenery. He pointed
to a farmer's field that was longer than the runway. "There sir. It could
have landed there without any trouble. Plowed dirt is softer than hard
packed runway dirt. Engine, wings, and fuel could have been jettisoned
safely without ground casualties."
Zechs nodded, almost agreeing, but he waited for the blonde to speak.
He could sense him itching for his turn. He broke in hard on the heels
of the last man. "Space, sir," he said to Zechs. He motioned to the monitor.
"Thrusters are still online. The shuttle could have been piloted into
space to await rescue. Need for a crash would have been eliminated."
Zechs found a genuine smile. "Excellent. What's your name, pilot?"
"Riley, sir, Peter Riley."
"Peter Riley," Zechs repeated. "You are now in charge here. Yates," he
didn't look at the man, "You are dismissed. Collect your belongings and
leave. I don't tolerate a man who uses his position to carry out personal
vendettas." He looked around at the others. "Thank you gentlemen, ladies.
You are dismissed."
The crowd broke up, talking excitedly. Yates walked away in a daze.
Zechs cued up Duo's simulation on the monitor and motioned Riley to watch
it with him. The scene was brutal, wild, and ... Zechs sighed as he turned
to Riley. "Evaluation?" he demanded. It was another test. The man surely
knew Duo had been there on his, Zech's recommendation. Would he give an
Riley swallowed, but he stepped up to the plate and told the truth. "His
piloting skills are phenomenal, sir. In a battle, I would definitely want
him fighting beside me. In a civilian situation though, he is clearly
unstable, sir. He killed three hundred people in the simulation to carry
out his orders to the letter, without question, and, I clearly saw, that
he showed no remorse or willingness to consider another alternative. He
should have known, just as I had, that taking the shuttle into space would
have been the better solution. Instead, he chose to follow orders. I recommend
that he be grounded, sir."
Zechs turned off the monitor and said the only thing he could, putting
safety and other men's lives before his personal feelings; his desire
to give Duo some reason for staying and being available to him, "I agree
with your recommendation. I'll inform him myself."
Duo felt chill fingers running up his spine. He lay on his back on his
hard bed and stared up at the ceiling as he talked to the vid phone. The
image was off, but that didn't comfort Duo. It seemed more disturbing
somehow to hear Heero's voice come out of the blackness.
"I know the way you think, Heero," Duo said nervously, twisting the end
of his braid around and around in his hands. "You probably thought that
you were being perfectly reasonable when you tried to-"
"I was," Heero replied, cool and sharp. "It was a logical solution to
both of our problems."
Duo frowned. "I didn't have a problem, Heero."
Heero begged to differ. "We are both males in need of constant sexual
release. The arrangement I proposed would have allowed for us to discharge
that need and continue to concentrate on our work."
Duo wanted to grab the vid screen and hurl it at the wall. He clenched
his hands on his braid and said, "That makes perfect sense to you, I can
tell. The way you were raised, maybe you can't think of it any other way.
What I want to know is, why you didn't stop... I was begging you, Heero."
Duo began to shiver, the memory of it washing over him; Heero pinning
him down, his hands on his ass, the spit, and the sure knowledge that
Heero had been about to thrust himself into him.
"I've often encountered reluctance among inexperienced sexual partners,"
Heero replied. "I concluded that you were experiencing the same reluctance
due to your confusion about your sexual orientation."
Duo bristled, "Dammit, Heero! I'm not a homosexual!"
"That statement is contrary to all of my information and observation,"
Heero replied. He paused and then said something that made the hairs on
the back of Duo's neck stand up. For a moment, he didn't sound like Heero
Yuy. His voice was too stiff, too contrived, uneasy with stating his next
words. "If my proposed arrangement is unacceptable, then we will return
to our previous arrangement. I will not ask for sexual relations with
"No hard feelings, you mean?" Duo translated bitterly. "I can come back
to the apartment?"
Duo let Heero wait. He stared at the four, plain walls of his apartment,
at the very minimal kitchenette, at the table and chairs of metal, and
at the bare, cold floor. He thought of working as a mechanic, greasing
parts and doing basic maintenance. It wasn't a bad job and it paid well.
There wasn't any shame in it, despite what Wu Fei had said, yet Duo couldn't
help a sting of pride, remembering what he had been, Gundam pilot and
hero. That pride wanted Duo to throw aside job and cell like apartment,
even if it meant returning to Heero. It was a strong temptation to fall
back into the old pattern and self destruct rather than be anything less
than what he had been during the war.
But, what had he been living with Heero or even Quatre? Needy, dependent,
and irresponsible to himself and everyone around him. In a hotel room
a few days before, Zechs had shown him the inevitable end of that behavior,
a self loathing so acute that he could only find one solution to cure
"Hey, Heero," Duo said at last.
"Can you send my stuff to me? I think I'll be hanging out on my own for
awhile," Duo told him, trying to sound confident, trying not to cut his
ties all together. "Keep the door unlocked, though. I might need to come
back if things don't work out, k?"
Heero's voice replied without change of emotion, "Of course. Give me your
Duo rattled it off and felt relief. Heero was sounding... odd, but not
angry. "Great! Uh, Heero?"
"Sorry about, ya know, hitting you below the belt and all."
Heero paused as if he had forgotten about it and then he replied matter-
of -factly. "It was a good defense. Very effective."
"Uh, okay. Thanks Heero."
The vid phone clicked off without a goodbye from Heero. Duo lay in the
silence and suddenly thought about the things he had just said to Heero.
His stomach churned on bile. He- He had apologized for fighting Heero
to keep the man from raping him! Why- Duo sat up and put his head in his
hands. His temple throbbed. Why had he done that? He wondered. Was securing
a tried and true safe place for himself so important that he would forgive
Again Duo remembered Heero's weight on him, his hands, that wet spit running
down the crack of his ass, warm and threatening worse to come. Duo sprang
up from the bed, ignoring his protesting ribs and bruises. He had to get
away! It was unreasoning that impulse. What was he getting away from?
It was done, over, the perpetrator half a city away. Still, Duo went to
the door of his apartment and jerked it open, everything inside of him
urging him to get away, run from the memory of what Heero had tried to
do to him.
"Asshole!" Duo cursed at himself, remembering how weak and helpless he
had been. "Worthless! Useless! Waste of Space! Wu Fei was right! Maybe
I should just find a rope!" he shouted in self loathing at himself as
he rushed through the door.
Duo ran straight into a broad chest, face burying into a long fall of
white, silky hair. He smelled a man scent, heady and rich, and a cologne
scent, faint and wonderful. It made his heart race, his face flush, and
some inexplicable part of him deep down, respond in a way he had never
Confused, Duo recoiled, stumbling a little against the door frame. He
blinked stupidly at Zechs. The man looked almost sad, regretful. Uh-oh,
Duo thought, more bad news, but it was at least news he had known was
"Let me guess," Duo bit out. "I didn't make the grade."
"No," Zechs replied.
"Guess I'll be leaving then," Duo snapped and hunched in on himself, feeling
suddenly cold; depression flexing claws, readying them to pull Duo down
into its depths. Suddenly, that emotional pain turned into a purely physical
one. Duo gasped in surprise as his lungs suddenly felt full of liquid
fire. He choked and then bent over, heaving and coughing. Something came
out and splattered on the ground between himself and Zechs. It was blood.
Zechs stared down in shock and then he looked up at Duo. Blue eyes battled
amethyst ones, wills clashing, males instinctively trying to position
themselves as dominate. It seemed to last for ever, but only seconds passed
before Duo sighed and slumped. Zechs caught him under the arms. Zechs
had won the battle and now he gave his first order. "You're not going
[part 4] [part 6] [back
to Kracken's fic]