Lost Soldiers Series #7 (cont)
Zechs wished that life moved as quickly as his thoughts. The decision
to go had been spontaneous. The reality was slower, more detailed, more
mired in preparation. Servants had scrambled for clothing and luggage.
Ground crews had scrambled to prep his shuttle. So much scrambling, but
very little actual speed. Now Zechs had to wait until a crew was assigned
and amenities loaded. Zechs was not expected to travel in anything, but
first class. His people wouldn't allow it.
Duo, stretched out on a couch in an opulent waiting room, was still unconscious,
his doctor just finishing checking his vitals. The doctor had bristled
at Zech's order not to administer medication or fluids, but he was a good
soldier. He followed orders. Unable to do one thing though, he contented
himself with doing another, hovering, checking, and rechecking Duo's vitals.
The constant, repetitive motions grated on Zech's nerves.
"He'll be fine for now," Zech said at last, trying not to snap. "We still
have a half hour before take off. Why don't you go and relax until then?
I'll stay with Duo and watch over him."
"Thank you sir. I would like to check to make certain that all of my medical
supplies are on hand," the doctor agreed and then, still resentful, "I
do hope you will allow me to administer medical attention if the young
man should go critical? He is very close to that, you realize, sir?"
Zechs was quick to reply, "Doctor, I will not allow anyone to die out
of sheer stubbornness. I'm certain that Duo didn't mean to have treatment
withheld if he was near death."
The doctor nodded grimly, accepting Zechs' assurances. "I hope not, sir.
"Borderline suicidal, I know," Zechs replied. "I begin to doubt that diagnosis."
"On what grounds?" The doctor was openly curious, yet skeptical too.
Zechs smiled tightly, replying even though he knew the man wouldn't understand.
"A feeling, doctor, and only that, but, remember, I've spent my life in
command. I know how to judge men."
"Yes, sir." The doctor turned towards the door. "Call me if there is any
The doctor paused half way out of the door. "I was always in awe of the
Gundam pilots, sir. They were so young yet so willing to sacrifice themselves
to help others."
"You're a colonist, then?" Zechs wondered.
"Yes, sir," the doctor replied with a smile. "But I don't think only the
colonists looked on them as heroes."
"I think you are right about that."
The doctor nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Zechs went to
the bed and looked down at Duo. The boy was pale. The binding agent on
his ribs was catching him painfully , even in his sleep, his breathing
shallow and lacking rhythm.
"You should have been awake to hear that," Zechs murmured. "We don't get
to hear it too often anymore. Everyone wants to forget about us, about
the war, about what gave them the peace they are wallowing in. I suppose
I should be grateful. Short memories give me a longer life. At the end
of the war, many people called for my blood, including you, I remember."
Zech was drawn to that handsome, pixie like face. His hand went involuntarily
to touch it, lightly smoothing fingertips over one cheek. It was so soft
for a man's face, lacking even stubble. Zech's hand smoothed the tangle
of Duo's chestnut bangs and then followed the long braid, a hopeless knot
draped over his chest, until he reached Duo's narrow chest and pink nipples.
He should stop, he thought, anyone could walk in, yet he didn't. His fingers
gently squeezed one shell pink bud. It went hard. So did Zechs.
This is what he had wanted from Duo from the beginning, Zechs thought
as he kneeled down by the bed. Only sex. A distraction. A chance to use
Duo up and then toss him aside when he stopped being amusing. In that
hotel room, with a gun to his head, things had changed. Zechs had a strong
urge to change them back. He didn't want to feel. He had been trying for
years to stop feeling. He didn't want to care so much about Duo that he
was now taking him to his Winter estate, promising him his own bungalow,
making room for him in his life, making room for him on his staff when
all common sense, and his life time of military training, screamed that
Duo Maxwell was an irresponsible, half mad, lose cannon.
He was feeling too much and it was too painful and unwanted, Zechs thought,
and too confusing. He didn't understand why Duo was generating such feelings
in him and making him do such unprecedented things. All that Zechs knew
was that he wanted it to stop. Curing his lust was the first step and
he had a perfect opportunity right then and there.
"That's all it is," Zechs murmured as he slipped the blankets down and
slowly untied the front of Duo's medical gown. "Just lust and a fascination
for Duo's personality. One can be gotten rid of and the other can be ignored."
There was a mirror on the wall. The couch was flat, without a back, meant
to let a person rest in comfort while waiting. Zechs could see himself
clearly in the mirror and he watched himself, feeling himself grow harder,
as he closed his lips over Duo's nipple and suckled it. Keeping the blanket
up around Duo's waist to keep him from getting chilled, Zechs let his
hand rove underneath until he found Duo's penis. He closed his hand around
it, fondled it, cherished it, and then cupped it and Duo's balls, holding
them possessively as he continued to suckle and lap at the sweet nipple.
His free hand unzipped his own pants, took out his weeping erection, and
began pumping it.
He needed more. Daring, Zechs went into a crouch, bringing his penis level
with Duo's mouth. He touched it to those warm lips, teased them with precum,
and then began to slide inside Duo's mouth. He paused, staring down at
the sight, feeling Duo's tongue reflexively touch and rasp over the head
of his cock.
It should have been a fulfillment of sexual need and fantasy, Zechs thought
with sudden panic. A quick fuck and Duo would never know. Afterwards,
he could order the boy to be taken to the nearest hospital with some credits
in his hand, never to be seen again. A flawless plan. A way to shut off
the feelings. A way to go back to his old life of not facing the pain
of the past or thinking about a future he didn't think he deserved.
Duo's mouth worked a little and his tongue rasped once more, but Zechs
was going flaccid. He pulled out of Duo and fell to his knees as he zipped
up his pants. His hands, trembling, pulled the blankets up and under Duo's
chin, tucking them in with exaggerated care as his mind fell into turmoil.
Why couldn't he do it? Zechs wondered. Why couldn't he treat Duo Maxwell
like he had treated so many before him? What made him so different? What
was there about him that dusted off the decency and honor that Zechs had
placed up high on a mental shelf and forgotten about?
Zechs looked up at the mirror, at the reflection of himself, at his long
white hair and sad, confused, blue eyes, trying to see the change that
had come over him. Instead, he saw Yates in the reflection, teeth clamped
hard on his cigar and face red with disgust as he raised his gun and aimed,
not at Zechs first, but at Duo.
"Stinking fags!" Yates bellowed. "I'll give you something to put up your
asses; a bunch of hot lead!"
Zechs rolled and pulled out his own gun in one smooth motion. As he had
hoped, Yates tracked towards him, but it was already too late for the
man. Zechs' gun went off first and Yates was suddenly stunned by a bullet
hole appearing in the center of his forehead. Blood and gore splattered
over Zechs and Duo as the man fell over dead, nerves still twitching.
Yates' gun hit the floor and it went off. Zechs felt the sting of the
bullet as it grazed his cheek and went into the wall.
Men burst into the room, alerted to danger by the gunshots. Voices rose
and fell as the men demanded to know what had happened. Zechs shouted
"I cashiered Yates earlier today," Zechs explained. "It seems that it
made him mentally unstable. Please see to his body and call in the doctor
for me. We'll be moving to another room."
Zechs watched Yate's body being carried out. Men still wanted to hover
and scratch their heads in horror and confusion at the violent turn of
events. Zechs knew that he had to allow it. He knew that they needed to
talk and get it out of their systems. He suffered it, sitting gingerly
on the couch beside Duo, staring down at the young man who hadn't stirred
through everything that had just happened. How could such a small, wayward,
irresponsible, and irritating human being have so completely turned his
world upside down? Once at his Winter estate, Zechs was suddenly determined
to find out.
[part 6] [back] [part
8] [back to Kracken's fic]