Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make any money off of them.
Warnings: Male/Male sex, graphic, language, violence
Soldiers series + Part 1
The sun shone in my face, bright
and obnoxious. I struggled against it's prying rays, squeezing my eyes
shut and slamming my pillow over my head. It's the pillow that reminded
me of last night. It had HIS scent on it, cheap liquor and stale cigarettes.
Shit! I pried an eye open and peeked out from under the concealment of
The space next to me was empty, blankets thrown back, and an impression
of a body still there for me to see. The nightstand beyond that, next
to that side of the bed, held two empty glasses, an ashtray full of cigarette
butts, and a bottle of something ...
"You, Duo Maxwell, are a first class idiot!" I said to myself viciously
as I did a push up off the bed and tossed the pillow away from me.
I stalked to the long, narrow, window, threw back the half open curtain,
and leaned against the sun warmed surface to stare down at the busy street
below. I didn't care that I was nude. I didn't care that everyone and
God could see me. All I cared about was seeing that red sports car out
front gone. It was and I sighed with relief as I thrust away from the
glass and glared at nothing very hard.
That glaring at nothing didn't last long and I was forced to confront
the leftovers of having made a very bad decision. There were three condoms
on the floor, all of them used. A tube of lube was hiding among the sheets.
An undershirt, not mine, was tumbled over a chair. The room smelled of
HIM, was claimed by him through these discarded items of his conquest
and the pain in my backside. He had left, without a word, grinning that
grin of his, probably, and eager to tell someone at work how he had ...
I grunted, yeah, right! How many people could he tell that he had humped
Duo Maxwell, Preventer extraordinaire? I could think of three. One of
them wouldn't care and the other two would be disappointed in me, right
before they smashed HIS face in for talking trash about me.
I'm not a slut, by the way, so stop thinking that right now. I'm picky
as hell and probably not many people even know I'm gay. I AM a guy though,
and for guys, losing one's virginity is something you do early on and
are damned proud of it when you do. Sometimes, I do take a roll in the
sheets when someone strikes my fancy and I can't say I'm sorry about any
of them. This guy though.... He was WRONG, yeah, spelled with capitol
letters, and I couldn't help thinking that last night was going to come
back to bite me in the ass.
Why was he so wrong, you ask? I don't have to think hard about that one.
Making out with your partner on a stake out is a standard joke on any
force, but no one really expects two professionals to do it. I guess I
wasn't very professional last night, and neither was he.
I want to completely blame myself, but it's hard. Gerald Filmore is sex
on two legs. Strong...big... dark.. chiseled chin... steely blue eyes...
rakish, dark hair... shoulders that are wide and rounded... an ass that...
well, you get the picture. A wet dream's dream, basically. When a guy
like that breathes sweet stuff into your ear and sticks a hand down your
pants, you suddenly forget all about that 'professionals don't do that
sort of thing' business. At least we just groped until our shift was over
and I took him back to my place. Bad boy, Duo, right? Yeah, well, I guess
my brain wasn't the one doing the thinking last night.
I cleaned up, threw everything into the garbage, including his undershirt.
I did find a note then, tucked under the ashtray. I won't tell you what
it said. It was pretty damned crude and appreciative of a certain skill
I had prided myself on up until that moment. He made it seem like a prostitute's
trick and I wondered if I could ever do it again without remembering how
sick to my stomach I felt just then.
No, Duo Maxwell did not feel very proud of himself at the moment and it
was hard for me to take the vid clip out of the drawer where I had guiltily
placed it last night. I caressed it, grimacing.
"Sorry about that, Heero," I said softly, "but you didn't need to see
that last night."
I took the vid clip and set it at the center of the tiny table that was
tucked into my bare bones kitchen. There were two chairs there, but the
second one never seemed to get any use. I made a strong pot of coffee,
slathered a copious amount of cream cheese onto a stale bagel, and then,
steaming coffee mug in one hand and a plate of breakfast in the other,
I sat in front of the vid clip.
It was hard to turn it on. I felt guilt and even a bit of fear, as if
the image contained within the clip was going to judge me and judge me
harshly. Stupid, isn't it? Okay, you're thinking 'crazy', I know, but
it gets even better. Wait for it.
I finally turn on the clip, my hands sweaty, and up pops the three D image
of Heero Yuy. I remember the day I took it. Stealthy. That's my middle
name when I want it to be. I snuck up on that perfect, hunk of teenager,
the one I had been, at the time, tossing and turning in my Gundam in absolute
lust and love over, and found him... well, he'd been sitting on the foot
of his Gundam looking, for once, absolutely calm and relaxed. Dressed
in that tight spandex, and wearing that awful green shirt, he had been
leaning forward, chin on fist, elbow propped on one knee, staring off
into space with those deep, intense, blue eyes. He had looked as if he
were thinking about something... maybe thinking of something pleasant
for once. Handsome. My dreams in the flesh. I couldn't resist. I snapped
the photo and here it is, still my most prized possession. Heh, that doesn't
sound so crazy, but, like I said, it gets better.
I'm twenty two now, a career man. Sure I wandered aimlessly for awhile,
working stupid jobs, lacking any real goal or motivation, until Sally
Po called me up one day and told me that she had a sticky situation on
her hands that required the skills of a certain Duo Maxwell. I completed
the mission without a hitch and found my calling at the same time. I have
a reputation now, 'The Can Do MAN'. Think it's impossible? Maxwell will
get it done for you. Yet... here I was, doing what I did every morning...
hell, doing what I did every night too after work, talking and having
a weird relationship with a vid clip with the image of Heero Yuy on it.
Freaked now? Tell me about it! I'm twenty two. He's fifteen in the picture.
How sick is THAT? Knowing he wasn't fifteen now, where ever he was, didn't
make me feel any more comfortable about it, let me tell you. Sometimes,
I consider destroying the thing and getting a pet, or a real live in lover,
but it's always only for a second, before horror sets in at the very thought
of never seeing those intense eyes again, never seeing that soft expression,
never seeing the small upturn of one side of his mouth... Yeah, I've had
years to stare at the thing. I probably know every zit and mole on his
body by now.
"Morning, Heero." I toast the picture with my coffee mug and make small
talk, No, not about last night. I don't want him to know about that, remember?
He listens, just like he always does, and that ghost of a smile looks
like it's for me. I feel better, just like I always do, and I come away
from the conversation feeling like I can handle one more day of catching
the bad guys. I even think I can face a guy I'd rather never see again.
Finishing my breakfast, I throw the dishes into the sink, get dressed,
tighten my tie, grab my car keys, and then turn off the vid clip, but
not without a, "See you tonight, honey."
Go ahead and say it. Who can blame you... but, ya know, who can blame
me? I've had a pretty screwed up life. Everyone I ever cared about died
and I can't seem to find anyone to hang around me for long now, least
not anyone I care a lot about. Why not have a little vid clip teddy bear
that never ages, never gets worn out, or loses it's fuzz? Okay, I could
have said lover, but I won't go that far. I'll fool myself instead and
say 'teddy bear'. I feel less like a loser then... though it's splitting
hairs pretty damned close.
I take a last look around the apartment, wrinkle my nose at the smell
of HIM still lingering in the air, and then go, but not without the same
regret I have every day; that I don't dare take Heero with me and leave
that damned vid clip on all the time. That WOULD be just plain nuts ,
so I just won't go there.
"Long haired freak!"
"Is that all ya got?"
"Just give me the damned two dollars!"
"Just give me the damned hot dog!"
We faced off just like we did every day at lunch time, me and Freddy the
street vendor; gnarly goat of a Hungarian in a pair of shorts and a sweaty,
greasy undershirt. His one good eye squinted at me sourly as he slapped
together my hot dog; chili, relish, ketchup, and hot sauce. He hated homosexuals
and he knew I was one, but he also grudgingly liked me as a person, too,
and he couldn't quite reconcile the two, so we had our little ritual exchange
where I got a hot dog and he got to listen to a few of my jokes and have
my big grin brighten his day a bit. The barrage of insults was just to
keep everything in the manhood department kosher for poor old Freddy.
He didn't really mean them... at least I didn't think he did.
As I turned away and followed my bemused companion, who had witnessed
Freddy's brand of 'customer service' before, to a nearby park bench, we
were shadowed by nervous security guards. My companion was not just anyone,
and he was definitely not the type of man to grab a hot dog from some
dubious merchant on the side of the road. Quatre Winner was my friend
though and he knew that having lunch with me meant grabbing a bite on
the cheap. I made good money, but he knew I was saving for better things.
Ah, you're confused aren't you? Did you think I was satisfied with my
life? Rewind to me getting up after having been screwed stupid by a guy
I shouldn't have touched with a ten foot 'bad idea' stick. Did you also
miss the part where my main squeeze is a vid clip of a fifteen year old
crush? Yeah, things have not been going well on the domestic side of my
life. I had been saving up with some wild idea of retiring obscenely young
and lounging on an Earth beach in front of my own bungalow... Okay, I'm
young enough to still have wild, 'panty raid' and 'toga party' type dreams,
so sue me. Now, especially after reflecting on last night, I had a different
dream entirely... and no, I'm not going to tell you what it is yet. I'm
still trying to figure out a good way to explain it so that it doesn't
sound completely crazy. That may take awhile.
Quatre sat primly on the bench and stared with big blue eyes at my hot
dog. "That looks..."
"Terrible, I know, and it would probably taste awful to you, too," I said
with a grin, "But I happen to think it is heaven on a bun."
"It's going to eat out your stomach," Quatre warned jokingly and then
looked around him. "I don't know why you insist on getting food from that
man and sitting here. It's not very relaxing."
I glanced around. I really hadn't noticed the area. It had a few trees
and a few benches, but it was too close to the busy road and the choking
fumes to really be pleasant. "We can go back to my office, if you want
to." I suggested.
Quatre smiled. "No, this is fine," he replied politely.
He looked out of place in his expensive suit. His blonde hair was still
bright and his eyes were still wide and innocent looking, but his face
had settled into more masculine planes and angles, and his lips were usually
set in a firmer line now. He was the head of the Winner family, its only
male heir, and he had an important position in Relena Peacecraft's government.
He was also an advisor to the Preventers and he had his own office in
the organization's main complex. It was hard to square that important
man with the one that I knew only as the pilot of Sandrock and my war
time buddy. Sitting beside me, I could smell some overly spicy cologne
on Quatre and I could see a pimple just under his chin. Defects; the things
that made him a man just like me. I always looked for them when we hooked
up for one reason or another, so that I wouldn't start seeing him as someone
I didn't belong with. When you're a street child like me, from the slums
of L2, thoughts like that come easy and often.
"Well?" I prompted when Quatre seemed reluctant to go on. There was a
code, I suppose, that was uniquely a part of where Quatre had been raised.
Polite conversation first, a meal second, and then business last. I only
had an hour for lunch. "What did you want to see me about, Qat?"
Quatre blushed and clasped his hands together as if he were about to offer
a prayer. "I wish that I could have waited until a more appropriate time
to ask you this, but I have associates eager for your answer."
I set aside my hot dog, put hands behind my head, sinking back into the
bench in a relaxed pose. I grinned at Quatre. "Shoot."
"This would be outside of Preventer channels," Quatre began.
"Of course," I replied. "Otherwise we'd be in Sally Po's office talking
about this. What I want to know is, why are we out here on a park bench
talking about it? It can't be anything top secret, right?"
Quatre smiled and shook his head, picking at something on his sleeve.
"I have a job for you."
"It's on Earth," Quatre said, and yes, I was hoping with every molecule
in my body for him to say, "In a sleepy coastal city near the Sanq Kingdom."
It took me a moment to realize that he HAD said it. Of course, it was
just too much to hope that a bungalow on the beach would come with the
job, but he was close. "I can provide you with an apartment, a vehicle,
and a modest expense account."
"Near the water?" I asked. Okay, so I dared to be pushy when it came to
having my dreams fulfilled.
"If you like, it can be on the beach," Quatre replied agreeably. He looked
mildly amused. "I didn't know that you liked the water."
"That time that I spent floating around on Howard's barge on Earth, gave
me a chance to fall in love with the ocean," I told him. "I always wanted
to go back and be near it again."
Quatre chuckled. "Not on it? I can get you a house boat."
I shook my head, no, and laughed as well. "I like my feet on land when
I go to sleep, thank you very much. The shore is close enough to the water
Quatre nodded, understanding that, but then he said, "Well, would you
like to know what the job is now?"
"I've been waiting, Qat."
Quatre chuckled and loosened his tie as he turned and leaned close to
me. It looked like we were sharing a lover's secret. His guards were probably
getting nervous and embarrassed.
"I'm forming up an elite group," Quatre said. "I have experts in all fields
training them. Well, in all fields, but one, and that's really the most
important one if they are to be effective."
"Infiltration," I guessed and was intrigued. "Why not just use the Preventers?"
Quatre looked troubled and he glanced around us to make certain that no
one was close enough to hear. "The Preventers has become a large, diverse
organization. Security breaches have become common. There are groups that
still don't acknowledge the peace or Relena Peacecraft's leadership. We've
been able to police them with the Preventer forces, but some of them have
gone deeply underground and they have been strangely one step ahead of
"So, you're going outside of regular channels to do this," I guessed and
felt a thrill. I had always hated regimented authority. Though I had basked
in my position with the Preventers as resident Gundam Hero slash agent
extraordinaire, the day to day grind, and being forced to wear a uniform,
had bothered me a lot.
"I'm your man!" I said without hesitation. "When do I start and do you
have plane tickets ready?"
Quatre blinked, but he then nodded and looked sympathetic. "I suspected
that you weren't very happy here, Duo. Perhaps this will give you a chance
to meet new people and to..." yeah, he went on and on about starting a
new life and meeting new people, but my main reaction was, 'Oh, shit!
He saw me go home with Gerald Filmore!' I wanted to sink through the wooden
slats of the bench. I know my face was red. Quatre was so cultured and
so... so... well, above screwing people for the sake of screwing. I was
too, for the most part, but I'm sure he wasn't aware of that after seeing
me sniffing after Agent Loser.
"Duo...," Quatre said gently and I came back to myself to see him very
close, his spicy cologne overwhelming me and his big blue eyes so soft
and warm right before my face. He patted my hand. "We all make mistakes."
You might think that was pretty damned condescending, or that he was treating
me like a bad little kid, but, well, hell, I deserved it and then some.
"I'm not making THAT one again, " I said and he nodded, relieved. We understood
each other. Quatre was a good friend.
Quatre handed me a book of tickets, an envelope with instructions, and
a credit card. "Everything is on the Winner account, but," He waggled
his finger warningly, even though he softened it with a joking smile,
"Don't take advantage of it, all right? Be at your destination by the
end of this month."
"Will do!" I said as I grabbed the things from him and picked up my hot
dog. I checked my watch and stood up. "Gotta go. Lunch time's almost over.
Thanks for giving me the job, Quatre."
"You're one of the best," Quatre replied as he stood as well and smoothed
his clothes with slim hands. "Who else would I ask to train people who
I want to be the best as well?"
"Aw, shucks!" I laughed, "You're going to give me a swelled head."
"But it's the truth," Quatre replied with a laugh, "and you know it too,
I grinned, "Yeah, I do," I replied cheekily. "See ya around, Qat!"
"Yes, you will," Quatre replied, as if it were a solemn promise, and turned
to join his nervous guards.
A new life, I thought to myself in amazement, delivered nice and neat
in under an hour. How quickly life changed, but I was all too familiar
with that. My life had been full of drastic changes from birth.
"We're going to the beach, Heero," I whispered. "I hope you like sand
Don't look at me that way! I was joking! I don't really think vid clips
have personal preferences, okay?
A place on the beach. Quatre had just given me one of my dreams on a silver
platter. Now I didn't have to keep saving my money to pay for that other
life changing idea I had come up with. What? You want to know what it
was? Hm, well, it's seems pretty stupid now that I think about it, but
what young guy doesn't dream of a penthouse on L4 with a view of the most
decadent fun spot on Earth or in Space? Hey, I am a red blooded, hormone
overloaded young guy. Partying every night, and seeing an endless stream
of scantily clad guys in the spas and resorts, just seemed a pretty damned
good retirement idea to me. I guess I have to put both feet on the ground
though and settle for a working version of that dream based in reality,
still, not too shabby, not too shabby at all.
[back to kracken's fic]