Notes: Ah, here comes the angst. In a bushel barrel basket :P More lemon as well, of course...
by: Shoori

Marking it Down to Learning + Chapter 5
The Darkness Closing in

Heero leaned back in his chair, not bothering to hide the scowl that crossed his face.

For one, he hated meetings. Once, he hadn't minded them - he'd accepted them as he'd accepted everything else in his life. If he was supposed to be at a meeting, he was at a meeting. That's just the way it was.

But after the war, especially after he'd moved in with the other pilots, he'd made an astounding revelation - he didn't always have to follow orders. Even if he did follow orders, he didn't have to like it. He didn't even have to pretend to like it.

The day that these revelations had dawned on him had been the most freeing day of his life. It was better than flying Wing, better than hearing that peace had been declared, better than finding that the Bartons were well and truly defeated.

All of those wonderful moments had, in the end, proved fraudulent.

When he flew Wing, however free he had felt he was, he wasn't, really. He was just following someone else's orders, fighting a war that was essentially someone else's fight. As committed as he'd been to his cause, Heero hadn't realized until years later that the people actually in the field were rarely those who had instigated or stood to benefit from a war.

Zechs and Treize had been notable exceptions from that rule. But even they weren't as personally involved or responsible as they had liked to think they were. They'd been run by the old men of Romefeller, just as he and the other pilots had been run by the scientists.

The end to the Gundam wars, he'd thought, would bring peace to everyone, and freedom to him. The scientists were dead, and there was noone left to hold his leash. He wouldn't have to fight again.

But, of course, he had. The Bartons had stepped into the ring, and once again he'd been called to battle.

And again, he'd been sure that that would be the end. Finally, he was free; finally, he could live his life knowing that he would never have to kill again.

It hadn't worked out that way. He'd killed many times since the end of that war. On "official Preventer business," of course... but it was still killing. He didn't very much like it... but at least he could acknowledge now that he didn't like it. He didn't have to pretend to be impervious to it.

So, that was about as free as he got. Being able to be visibly pissed off when he had to do things he didn't like.

That thought deepened his scowl.

He glanced around the table, scowling impartially at the other people gathered around the table.

Preventer brass. What a useless group of people.

His mood darkened as he stared at the collection of upper agents and administrators, all doing their best to look and sound important, and, for the most part, failing miserably. The best that could be said for them was that they usually stayed out of his way.

Most of them had been career military, until suddenly there wasn't much need for the huge standing armies that had been constructed over the course of the last decades. Because of that background, they tended to run the Preventers as though it were a battalion - Heero just knew that deep inside they were longing to build a barracks and send uppity agents into the kitchens to peel potatoes.

Some of them, he had to admit, actually knew what the hell they were doing. But they were mostly the younger ones, or the ones who didn't have the contacts or the pull to get into the upper positions. Heero foresaw a day a decade or so down the road when the Preventers would actually be an astute, well-run force. But that day certainly wasn't here yet.

But, as much as they might hassle other agents, he and the other former pilots were usually left pretty much to their own devices. They were respected as fellow soldiers, and so the officials either pretty much ignored them or made grasping sycophants of themselves. A spiteful few went out of their way to make life difficult for the "Gundam Heroes," but most of them had... well, they'd gotten that out of their systems by now.

Une was really the best of the bunch, if that demonstrated how useless the rest of them were. The woman was perpetually unhinged. She hid it better now that Treize was no longer around to push her buttons, but she wasn't quite right in the head.

Heero was forced to concede, however, that her inability to perceive reality as it actually was made her a very good administrator. He would have had no problem working with her if she hadn't made it her private mission to mold the former Gundam pilots into model agents.

He'd been a model soldier for years. He didn't have any interest in being one again.

But Une couldn't seem to grasp that simple fact. Or, if she did, she refused to accept it. She pushed and pushed, nudged, nagged, made caustic comments and did everything she could to pull the five lovers apart on assignments. She always stopped just short of going too far, and part of Heero almost looked forward to the day that she finally stepped over the line and they would be able to loudly and ostentatiously resign from the force.

He wasn't sure exactly what he would do if he ever left the Preventers. He never really thought of it because... well, just because. But he was sure he'd find something, and it wasn't as though they had to worry about money. Quatre had enough to support them all.

It should bother him, living off Quatre. Even though they all made separate salaries, by and large he, Duo, Wufei and Trowa contributed very little toward their own day-to-day living expenses. He always meant to sit down and work out a budget with the Arab, but when he tried, the blond usually ended up... distracting him, somehow, and they never got around to it.

Heero's scowl lightened, and a small grin touched his lips as he allowed his gaze to drift to his... roommates. Quatre was talking, gesturing at maps on the wall to make some point. Wufei was shuffling through a pile of documents, and Trowa leaned forward, his brow furrowed and an intent look on his face as he followed the argument with his eyes, obviously just waiting for the right moment to insert his own opinion. Duo lounged in his chair, looking for all the world as bored as Heero was.

Duo. Heero stared at the braided man, watching his slight movements as he leaned back in the chair, pulled his braid over his shoulder and played with the end, glanced up at the clock on the conference room wall.

Heero gave Duo a lot of the credit for showing him a new way to live. He'd been so lost after the war. He'd thought it would be so... good to finally be free of orders, but when he had... he didn't know what to do. He wasn't sure how to handle it. He'd drifted for a long time, unsatisfied, bored, with a nervous feeling that he was doing something wrong. He hadn't known what, or how to fix it, but he'd known that things just... weren't right. After a year or two, Duo had contacted him, and suggested that he move back to Sanc to join the Preventers.

He'd jumped at the suggestion, glad to have something, anything, to do with himself.

It had taken a long time for him to realize the... arrangement that the other pilots had come to. He hadn't realized anything was going on between any of them until they'd all moved in together.

Even then, it had taken him a while to pick up the fact that something had happened between his four... friends. It wasn't until he'd heard some comments around headquarters, and noticed a few interactions between them, thought through a few joking remarks that he realized that they were all... together.

He'd been amazed.

Then he'd been furious.

Heero wasn't sure that he'd ever been that angry at other people in his life. He'd been angry at himself and his own mistakes lots of times, and he'd been irritated with people, or abstractly angry about their actions... but he didn't know that he'd ever been that pissed at anyone before.

What the fuck were they thinking? Why had they set that sort of arrangement up, and not invited him?

He'd stewed about it for several days, avoiding them, snapping at people at work. He'd even called in sick two days in a row - two of only three days of work he'd missed in the three years he'd worked for the Preventers - just so that he could stay home and be angry at them.

Finally, he'd worked himself up enough to stamp over to Quatre's, and demand of them why'd they'd never invited him to be part of the group.

He'd expected excuses, explanations, apologies.

He hadn't expected Duo to pull him into the apartment, slam him against the door, and shove his tongue down his throat.

He certainly hadn't expected them to take turns fucking him and letting him fuck them the entire night and into the morning.

That next morning was the third day of work he'd missed in the three years.

He hadn't had much experience with sex at that point, and what little he'd had hadn't been very enjoyable. Not unpleasant, just not... anything good enough to convince him that sex was all that special.

He'd found out that night how wrong he was.

Duo had been the first one to take him. He'd never been touched like the American had touched him that night - inside and out, with fingers and lips and tongue, gently and roughly, tender kisses alternating with deliciously painful bites...

The first time the American had taken him had been the most incredible experience of his life. Heero shifted in his chair, feeling himself harden at the memory of staring up into those violet eyes as Duo slowly slid his whole burning length inside him. It had been the most amazing sensation he'd ever felt. Even now, though he'd experienced the same sensation many times, with all four of the former pilots, the wonder of it still astonished him every time.

The only experience that equaled it was when he took them. He shuddered slightly, hardening further, his eyes still roaming over Duo, the meeting forgotten. In the years he'd spent in training with J, the scientist had emphasized again and again that sex was nothing but a biological urge that was best suppressed. He, Heero, wasn't there to reproduce the species - the other fools in the world had that well in hand. And reproduction, J lectured, was the only reason for sex - all the other hype attached to it was just that - hype, intended to romanticize an act that was, at its best, bestial and messy. He existed for a higher purpose that that.

For years, he'd obediently submitted to that doctrine.

But J had been wrong - so wrong. That first time with Duo had taught him that. Sex was for pleasure - pure, electrifying pleasure. Nothing Heero had ever experienced brought him the same feeling that joining himself with another person did. Feeling that hot tightness around him, squeezing him, holding him, yielding to him, welcoming him... it was indescribable.

The first time he'd really felt the power of that experience was with Duo. He continued to stare at the braided pilot, but Duo didn't feel his gaze, and kept fidgeting in his chair. The first time had been with Duo. If Duo hadn't given him that, he'd never know...

Once he'd realized what he'd been missing all his life, he was eager to make up for lost time. He'd spent more than twenty years without it - he'd be damned if he was wasting any more time. Plus, the others had been together for months - they had a jump on him that he needed to compensate for.

Heero knew dimly that sometimes his appetite for sex eclipsed that of the others. Sometimes they teased him about it, but he usually paid them back for that by fucking them until they were wrapping their legs around him and begging for more. It always surprised him when he had to remind them of what they themselves had shown him - that sex was wonderful, amazing, uplifting... He wanted to feel what they brought him every moment of the day. But sometimes, they themselves forgot what they had taught him, they fell prey to the traps they'd freed him from. They put the unimportant minutia of life ahead of what was important - pleasure, happiness, freedom.

He felt free when he was with them. He knew that in life he really wasn't free, and he rebelled against that. But with them, in their home, in bed, in them, he was. Every time they yielded to him, or took him, or touched him, or let him touch them, they affirmed that. He was free. He wasn't following anyone's orders, only his desires.

"... don't you agree, Heero?"

He jerked his gaze away from Duo as the irritated tone in Une's voice finally penetrated his consciousness.

"Agree with what?" he demanded, his own voice surly, annoyed at having his reverie interrupted.

Une sighed theatrically, glancing wearily around the table as though searching for recognition of her patience at putting up with inattentive subordinates. "Don't you agree that the best plan is to wait a bit before sending more operatives into the field?" she repeated meaningfully.

Damn. Maybe he should have been paying attention.

He glanced at Quatre, and saw that the blond's turquoise eyes were narrowed in irritation. He glanced away, then swayed slightly in his seat as a wave of anger and denial seemed to barrel into his chest from Quatre's direction.

He scowled. Quatre wasn't as subtle as he'd once been. Noone ever discussed Quatre's odd power, but it was one of those things that everybody knew about anyway. Once or twice, when some small argument or disagreement had broken out among them, the blond had let loose, swamping each of them with the other's heightened emotions.

All that anger and frustration swirling around... it had been one hell of a turn-on.

But somehow he doubted that Quatre was trying to excite him at the moment.

"No, I don't agree," he snapped. Immediately, Quatre let up on his mental pressure, and Heero grinned foolishly as a wave of pleasure and approval replaced the irritation that had been building up around him.

Now it was Une's turn to scowl. "Why?" she demanded. "We need more information before... "

"You can't pussyfoot around this kind of thing," Heero insisted flatly. "It's not a game. If you dabble, you arouse suspicion."

"Thank you!" Quatre inserted acerbically, smirking triumphantly at Une. "My point exactly! If you keep moving operatives in and out of the field, you create a steady stream of unknowns in environments where faces change slowly and gradually. By doing that, you... "

Heero tuned out. Everyone knew that Quatre would win in the end - he usually did if he really put his mind to it. The only times he hadn't were when the rest of them didn't agree with his point-of-view, and so didn't give him their support. The blond was usually right on the mark in terms of what strategy the Preventers ought to adopt, but his corporate background, for all that it helped him look at problems from different angles and make decisions with utter ruthlessness, sometimes hindered him. He tended to think of things in terms of material profit and loss, and lose track of the fact that it didn't really matter so much if an investigation used an excessive amount of resources, as long as it was successful.

Bored with the meeting once again, Heero turned his attention back to his perusal of his lovers. He felt himself grow hotter as he watched Trowa. His green eyes were intent, and he was busy taking notes, jotting down suggestions as Quatre tossed them out, sometimes taking note of comments by Une as well. The Japanese man's blue gaze moved hotly over Trowa's long body, his mind's eye seeing him as he had been last night - stretched out on the bed, arms bound over his head, legs splayed and tied down, exposed cock hard and straining, those incredible eyes covered by a blindfold and his mouth open, panting, moaning, begging him for release.

Heero loved that - he loved tying a lover down, receiving license to hold and touch and taste and take him as he wanted, knowing that he had control of that person's desire and pleasure, and that he could grant, deny and direct it however he wanted. Trowa would play that game with him more than anyone else would - the green-eyed man loved being tied down as much as Heero loved tying him down, loved surrendering his body to someone else. Faced with such eager cooperation, Heero found it very hard to control himself when they played that way - he would take Trowa and the others again and again and still be ready and eager for more. Last night's session had gone on so long that none of them had gotten more than a few hours' sleep, and this morning Trowa's movements had a noticeable stiffness to them.

Heero dropped his hand down the side of his chair and clenched his fists - the memory of Trowa's taut, glistening body was making him breathe heavily and tighten with desire and anticipation, and he didn't really want every imbecile at this meeting to realize that he was concentrating more on the thought of fucking Trowa than on the meeting. Not that he particularly cared what any of them thought of him, he just really didn't feel like getting bitched at by Une.

He moved his gaze back to Duo, noting with appreciation how the shorter man's casual posture served to show off the graceful lines of his physique. Duo wasn't tall, but he never really appeared to be that short, either. His structure was slender and almost delicate looking - deceptively so - but that really just added to his overall air of sleekness. Everything about him was proportioned so well, was so lithe and toned, that it was really only when you were standing right next to him that you realized that he was actually fairly short.

Heero continued to stare at Duo, his ponderings on Duo's physical appearance again leading him to thoughts about sex with the violet-eyed man - the memory of Duo's skin against his, the taste of his mouth, the touch of his hands...

Suddenly, Duo glanced up, his gaze meeting Heero's heated one. They stared at each other for a moment, then Duo's mouth curved in a slow smile. He looked away, staring blankly at the opposite wall for a few minutes, then got out of his chair and left the table. He moved unobtrusively to the door of the room, and casually let himself out. The others looked up from their discussion as he moved, but didn't pause, continuing with their arguments and arrangements.

Heero scowled at the door Duo had just exited through, feeling somehow dismissed. Duo had obviously known what he was thinking, but hadn't even bothered to stay and flirt a little.

A moment later Heero started slightly, startled, as the small device in his shirt pocket suddenly started vibrating. He pulled out the wireless communicator and scowled - who could be messaging him? Everyone who usually harassed him was here in the meeting.

He scowled at the small screen as words scrolled through and off the view area.

He was hard pressed from grinning widely at it. That would have given the game away, though.

He hit the button again, and the message scrawled past for a second time.

Conference room 247. Be there, or miss out.