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 2
Well, it wasn't everything
that I had dreamed about, and it really wasn't what I had expected from
Quatre Winner: a plain, one room bungalow with a ceiling fan, a kitchenette,
a narrow bathroom with a tiny tub, and a queen sized bed. As I flung my
bags on the bed though, making the rock hard mattress hardly bounce, and
turned to swing open a sizable picture window with a view of the sun soaked
beach, I shrugged mentally and smiled. Bubbling hot tubs and thong clad
man servants waiting on my every pleasure had been a pretty big dream
to fulfill any way. It was stupid of me, I thought, to feel disappointed.
A sea breeze smelling of salt and surf washed over me. I unzipped my jacket
and flung it aside. I was still dressed for the cooler Northern climate.
I had grown up on L2, used to faulty climate controls that had kept the
temperature of the colony scorching hot and bone dry. I felt almost guilty
for that feeling of 'familiar' that washed over me with the hot breeze.
L2 was a place that I wanted to forget and a place I had determined never
to visit again, even mentally.
I turned back to the room. I was having my few belongings shipped to me.
I didn't like the atmosphere of 'just visiting' being in a place that
was now my home. I opened my bags and dragged out my clothes and my toiletries.
I filled the closets and the drawers of a plain dresser with my clothes,
put shampoo, soap, and razor in the bathroom, and set out my hairbrush,
hair ties, car keys, and pass cards. It helped, but the room still felt
empty of 'Duo Maxwell'. It didn't take me long to figure out why.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in the one chair and carefully putting
the vid clip of Heero on the dresser. I turned it on, smiled, and sat
back in my chair, bare feet coming up to rest on top of the dresser while
I tilted back the chair and made a lounger out of it. Heero's thoughtful
face stared back at me. I imagined that he was frowning, critical of my
My underwear, jeans, and socks lay on the floor, draped over a lamp shade,
and littered the top of the dresser. A few fast food boxes and a tower
of empty soda cans would complete the decor, I thought, but I had to save
that part for later. The room felt more comfortable, a little broken in,
and not like it belonged to someone else now. I had 'marked' my territory.
The thought made me snicker, but it did sum up how I felt just then.
Bare assed naked from the waist down, I lounged in front of my best friend,
Heero Yuy, the vid clip, and congratulated myself on trashing my room.
I really needed to get a life. A new home, a new job, and a chance to
meet new people, I had high hopes that it would add up to a better life
for Duo Maxwell. It might even save me a trip to a shrink, or a trip to
the home for Gundam pilots who thought that three dimensional holograms
It was a lot easier to ignore not having a life when I had been trying
to score one for the colonists during the war. It had even been easy while
I had learned to be a Preventer, burying myself in procedure manuals and
taking every mission that had come my way. As things had slowed down to
routine though, it had become harder and harder to ignore that things,
personally, weren't any better for me than they had been at the start
of the war. I still battled the bad guys, I still had friends who put
up with me, and I was still all alone when I closed my door at the end
of the day.
Leave it to Quatre to see the warning signs that I had done everything
in my power to avoid seeing. It probably sounds stupid, even strange,
but he sometimes came off like my father, or what I imagined a father
would be like, since I really didn't have any personal experience with
one of my own. Quatre looked out for me, was happy and proud of my accomplishments,
and wasn't shy of telling me when I was wrong. I should have wanted him
to be my lover, but, aside from his being with Trowa, I can honestly say
that Quatre wasn't even a blip on my sexual radar scope. For some reason,
the caring, beautiful, rich man didn't appeal to me. In fact, even contemplating
sex with the blonde heir of the Winner dynasty seemed as wrong to me as
thinking about sleeping with a brother.
"No," I said aloud to the bare bones room, as if it cared, "I'd rather
bend over for a stupid fuck of a partner who wouldn't give a rat's ass
if a truck ran over me the next morning." Do you think I'm being hard
on poor Gerald? Maybe I should tell you what it had said in the note that
he had left me. Do you want to know? Are you sure? I guess I can tell
you, now that it doesn't make me angry enough to want to hunt the guy
down and give him a sex change with a rusty butter knife. The note had
said, 'Thanks for the great fuck and the really top dollar blow job, buddy.
Nobody ever sucked me off like that for less than a fifty.' Nice, right?
I can sure pick 'em, can't I?
Thinking about the episode again made me feel suddenly hot with nausea
and shame. I slapped the control on the vid clip and carefully placed
it in a drawer. Heero didn't need to see how much I hated myself just
then. Standing up, I snagged my bathing suit, ignored the fact that I
was as white as a ghost from being out of the sun for a long time, and
put it on. I needed to get out of there, clear my memory of dates gone
horribly wrong, take in the nice scenery, and get my head straight again.
The past was the past and kicking myself in the balls over it repeatedly
wasn't going to undo it. Quatre had given me a second chance. I wasn't
going to blow it with another Gerald Filmore. As far as those type of
people were concerned, Duo Maxwell was closed for business, opening again
only when Mr. Right, whoever he was, showed up.
Getting out into the sunshine, and exploring my surroundings, didn't last
long, though. I was having major jet lag and it caught up with me just
when I spotted a chikee hut with a bartender and a stool with a fine view
of a men's volleyball game on the sand. Suddenly, the sight of bronzed
young studs leaping and diving for a white ball didn't seem as appealing
as it should have been. My eyes drooped, I felt dizzy, and my stomach
informed me in no uncertain terms that a drink was the last thing it wanted.
As I walked up to the bar, the smell of mixed, tropical drinks brought
on a bought of nausea.
"Got any snacks?" I wondered.
The bartender, an older man in an outfit that seemed more suitable for
a country club than a beach side bar, frowned and gave me a slow appraisal.
He put out a bowl of salty peanuts and dried fruit reluctantly. I scooped
up a large handful, winked at him, and said "Thanks," as I walked away.
An annoyed sniff followed me and I kept grinning as I popped peanuts into
my mouth. I almost felt like I was on the streets of L2 again and expertly
filching food from street vendors.
Mouth full of peanuts, and a grin on my face, I must have looked like
a cheerful lunatic as I ran straight into a very solid chest. Starting
back, I spit up some of the peanuts and then, with the usual Maxwell luck,
I tried to apologize around the remainder in my mouth and accidentally
sucked one into my windpipe.
When you suddenly feel something jam into the place where you draw in
air to live, you stop thinking in any coherent manner. All I could do
was bend over and hack, trying to dislodge the peanut. The guy I had bumped
into, came up with a better plan. I felt his strong arms grab me from
behind and his fist thrust upwards into my diaphragm. The peanut, and
everything else I had in my mouth, went flying and splattered on the sand.
Shit! Could it get any more embarrassing?
Apparently it could. As I choked and tried to draw in air, I turned to
thank my rescuer and found myself facing a bronzed, toned, Adonis in a
thong bathing suit. He had sun bleached ringlets for hair that fell to
his shoulders, light blue eyes, and a drop dead, gorgeous smile that didn't
seem to notice that I was wide eyed and gaping at him like a complete
dumb shit. I can honestly say that I've never seen a heterosexual man
in a thong bathing suit. I didn't think to second guess the part of my
brain that cheered.
"Are you all right?" Adonis asked in a voice that was as beautiful as
the rest of him.
I scrambled for my brain, found it, swallowed hard, and then managed a
lame reply. "Uh... yeah... uh... thanks."
Adonis reached out, fascinated, and lightly touched my braid. "Jeez, that's
so long, dude!"
'Dude'. Okay, that word really turned off part of my brain. 'Dude'? Who
the hell said 'dude' any more? Unfortunately, it wasn't my brain that
was doing the thinking. The part of me that was, didn't give a damned
what Adonis said as long as he kept standing there and looking like the
ultimate wet dream.
I'm not a slut! Stop thinking that right now. I wasn't about to jump in
the sack with 'Sunshine' there. Remember? Closed for business. I did intend
to spent some quality, 'ogling eye candy' time with him though. Who knows,
maybe he might even turn out to be someone special? The intelligent part
of my brain rolled it's eyes. Me, and the part of me that was in the pilot
seat, ignored it.
"I don't feel so good," I said, and really didn't, so most of it wasn't
an act. "Do you mind walking me back to my place?"
"Sure," he replied good naturedly and granted me another blinding, sparkling
I know, I know! Don't invite people to the homestead unless you're expecting
him to help you plow the north forty. Like that? I had heard it from an
old soldier during the war. I keep it for special occasions. That guy
had been full of sayings like that, but that one in particularly had stuck
in my mind. Well, I wasn't going to invite Adonis in, so stop worrying.
I just needed time to try and recover from a incredibly bad first impression
so that I could ask if we could hang out together at another time.
So, I wiped the peanuts off of my face and proceeded to dazzle the guy
with the old Maxwell charm. He was reeled in; hook, line, and sinker.
By the time we reached my bungalow, we were laughing together and well
on our way to... well, I could say a meeting of the minds, but minds didn't
have much to do with it.
I stopped at the door and turned with a definite body signal that things
were not going any further. "Thanks again for saving my life," I told
Adonis. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get together again soon and get
to know you better."
Adonis grinned and looked me slowly up and down with obvious lust. "Aren't
you forgetting something?" he almost purred it.
I blinked, faking ignorance. "What?"
"Well...," Adonis drawled, "You could thank me with a kiss."
I wasn't going to do it. I even opened my mouth to tell him so. Adonis
took advantage of that and leaned forward to jam his tongue inside. We
were suddenly lip locking, french kissing, my tonsils being treated like
the main course at a meal. Hands cupped my ass and squeezed while a bulging
crotch ground against my own.
"Maxwell! Maxwell!" The little voice in my head wanted my attention. It
was very hard to give it. "Bad idea! Bad idea!" It just kept repeating
itself in a mournful wail while the lower part of my body was shouting,
almost drowning it out, "Oh, yeah! Let's do it!"
When Adonis leaned and began fumbling at the doorknob while continuing
to suck at my mouth and grind against me, I had this sudden mental image
of Gerald Filmore, his cheap cigarettes, cheaper whisky, and his used
condoms on my floor. The voice in my head was playing dirty now, but it
had the desired effect. I put my hands on Adonis's solid chest and pushed
him back. Our lips parted with a wet sound and I looked at him apologetically.
"Sorry about that, but you're a little hard to resist," I said with a
smile I hoped would excuse giving the man a case of blue balls. "I'm not
really looking for anything intimate right now, okay? We'll hook up later,
have a few drinks, talk, and get to know each other better."
Adonis turned ugly in oh-point-one second. His voice suddenly wasn't so
beautiful as he snarled, "Look, you cock tease! You owe me! If you think
I'm going to just walk away now..."
I glared. He didn't frighten me. I'm a trained killer, remember? Adonis
was just an over stimulated beach bum. "That's exactly what you're going
to do," I told him, "That is, if you know what's good for you."
He almost decked me. He was fast. Luckily, I was faster. I simply turned
my body and his blow passed by me and he stumbled. Having my back to a
door, was a bad situation, so I moved, intending to give myself some open
sand so I could proceed to kick his butt. I never got the chance.
Adonis had been about to lunge after me, but a hand had suddenly closed
on his throat while another had grabbed his hair. Adonis's eyes bulged
and he struggled to knock away the hands. He didn't have any success.
Those hands were stronger than the hands of most people. I knew from experience
that they could bend steel. As I looked on, stunned by recognition, Heero
Yuy pulled Adonis around and then shoved him towards the beach. Adonis
went down in an ungainly sprawl on the sand, scrambled back up, and then
stood like a stunned deer staring into Heero's intense, blue eyes.
"Go away," Heero said in a low, dangerous voice that made me shiver.
Adonis looked ready to pee himself. He didn't hesitate to turn tail and
run, sand flying as he disappeared into the dunes. I stared after him,
swallowed hard, and then looked at Heero. The man was glaring back at
me and said, as if he were tasting something unpleasant, "Quatre shouldn't
have given you the job."
I blinked. "Excuse me?" the retort was automatic, but my mind wasn't on
it. Instead, I was staring at Heero and trying to adjust the mental picture
of him, that I had carried with me since the war, to match this older,
self assured man standing in front of me.
Heero was taller and broader. The lanky youth that had been all whip cord
muscles, had filled out and his face had lost it's little boy, sullen
poutiness. He was still handsome, though, and he still had that dark,
intense gaze that I remembered, the one that spelled 'killer' as clear
as mile high writing in the sky. He was wearing blue jeans, a button down
shirt, and black, steel toed boots. He didn't look as if he had been casually
strolling the beach.
"You were always breaking the rules," Heero continued in biting tones,
"but you were capable of carrying out your missions. This 'incident' is
proof that you are not the person that you were during the war and that
your abilities have suffered and, perhaps, atrophied during your days
of peace. I intend to inform Quatre that you were unable to subdue one
untrained individual. He will agree with me-"
Okay, I'll admit that the Heero I had known during the war hadn't been
the most personable guy, but I had it in my mind that we had been at least
uneasy friends. Hell, he even let me see him laugh a few times! Having
that vid clip had served to blur the memory of the real Heero even further.
My vid clip Heero listened when I talked and never complained. He had
certainly never called me unfit for duty!
I could have gotten mad and kicked Heero's ass, but I was still too stunned,
too off balance by having run into him in the first place. My mind was
scrambling, trying to switch gears and accept a real Heero when fantasy
Heero had been my constant companion and comfort for years.
Heero made a noise and old times washed over me. "Hn," and then he was
turning on his heel and walking away, the set of his shoulders managing
to express his contempt. Whatever he had come to see me about, I thought,
must have gotten stuck in a mental round file as soon as he had decided
that Duo Maxwell couldn't cut it.
"Fuck!" I said it aloud. I don't know if Heero heard me. He was already
far down the beach.
My hands turned into fists suddenly and my mind decided that it had been
shocked long enough. Now it was deciding to get angry in a major way.
I turned and stormed into my home. Jet lag was overwhelming me, but my
emotions were pumping enough adrenalin to keep me charged despite it.
I grabbed the phone and dialed Quatre's number. As I waited to pass through
the many channels that stood between me and having a phone conversation
with the heir of the Winner fortune, I turned Heero's vid clip on and
placed it carefully on the dresser top. I stared at it morosely as I answered
question after question put to me by Quatre's staff.
Heero looked so 'understanding', thoughtful', and 'knowing' in that picture.
I turned it this way and that, looking at it from all angles, and then
set it before me close enough where I could look into the vid clips eyes.
They were dark, brooding, intense, but, in that picture, there wasn't
the contempt, the dislike, and the anger that I had seen in the present
time Heero Yuy's eyes. There was something going on beside me not taking
that beach bum out, I thought, any idiot would have known that I had been
positioning myself for an attack and Heero wasn't an idiot.
"How the hell did I piss him off in the few seconds we were together?"
I wondered aloud to my empty home. "Or maybe he has some grudge against
me from the war? What the hell, Heero..."
"Duo, is that you?" Quatre's voice said in my ear.
I started. I had the visual off and I kept it that way. I didn't want
Quatre seeing how off balance I was.
"Did Heero find you all right? I sent him to brief you and to give you
your schedule," Quatre continued.
"Yeah, he was here," I replied, "and I guess I make lousy first impressions
because he's on his way back to you to tell you that I'm a loser and to
cut me loose."
Quatre gave a long suffering sigh. "I think a meeting is in order sooner
than I had planned. Don't worry, Duo, Heero isn't going to change my mind
about having you on my staff. I know your record."
That was a relief. I rubbed between my eyes, feeling a headache coming
on. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Qat. If you don't mind, I need
at least a day of down time to adjust to the time and then I'll be ready
to sit through any tedious meeting that you can cook up, all right?"
Quatre chuckled, but then said thoughtfully. "Heero is probably suffering
from jet lag as well. It might account for any irritability he might have
shown towards you."
I thought about that. I wanted to believe it. "Could be," I replied. "I
guess we'll find out when we get together later."
"I'll have my staff call you when everything is arranged, "Quatre told
me and then added reassuringly, "Don't let Heero rattle you. You were
a good team during the war. I think you can be one again."
"I'd like that," I replied and then kicked myself mentally for not being
able to stop the 'neediness' in my tone. Quatre asked about my new home
and indulged in some small talk, but I could tell that he was anxious
to get back to what ever he had been doing before I had interrupted him.
We said our goodbyes and then I was left with the soulful eyes of my vid
clip Heero and the bitter taste still in my mouth from meeting the real
one. When exhaustion had dulled my emotions somewhat, I stood up and began
to make my way to the bed.
A thought brought me up short and I asked myself, feeling a flush of embarrassment
and trepidation, 'exactly how much of my little altercation with Adonis
had Heero seen?' If he'd seen Adonis sticking his tongue in, and my dubious
'objection' , then it was possible that Heero now knew that I was gay,
if he hadn't guessed before.
Can life get any better for me? Not only is the real Heero NOT like my
dream Heero, but he hates me for being gay! Okay, so I was guessing here,
but you can understand why I would come to that conclusion?
I turned and looked back at the vid clip of Heero. He was still there.
I had left him on, ageless and always ready to listen. It hurt, it really
did, and on so many different levels too. I wondered aloud, with a sick
twisting in my gut, "What the hell am I going to say to you when I see
[part 3] [back to