(Gritty NC-17 for sexuality
Gritty Romance and fanon nose-thumbing. yeah.
Special thanks to ixnos for beta and awkward scene help.
+ Part 1
They have to stop in Nairobi
to wait out one of the immense sandstorms spreading out from the Sahara.
Duo complains about the "fucking impassible region of Northern Africa,"
and sand in general. Heero don't say anything and instead begins to calculate
the quickest trajectory over Chad, Niger, and Algeria. They have to meet
Quatre at the Gibraltar base in a week -mission time 23:00 hours. Duo
should know that.
In the East part of the city they manage to rent a room which is basically
metal siding nailed over the skin and bones frame of wood beams and cement
blocks. Before he agrees to pay he has to go in and press the studs with
the heels of his hands, tap the nail heads with a fingernail, and test
out the house. In the end he brushes his knuckles against one of the sheet
metal sides -the one that looked as if it had been torn from the side
of a Coca Cola stand. It's the coldest most unyielding thing he's felt
since the last time he touched his gundam.
He gives the landlord 450 extra Kenyan shillings not to talk.
"Well, we've managed to find ourselves quite the shithole,"
Duo says when he comes through the door, but he doesn't complain and stashes
his bag carefully under the milk crates they'd been using as chairs. There's
no electricity, and in order for them to run the computers and crappy
plastic fan, they have to run a line from the street lamp through a hole
in the siding and into the house. They can only do this at night or they
risk being caught by the police or the neighbors. So when they finish
for the night Heero has to go out and wind out the cable and Duo teases
the lamp wires back together. There's no light inside the shack so its
pitch black except for the fine moth glow under the door.
There aren't even enough malaria pills for both of them. So they split
them up and take one every other day. But even though all standing water
evaporates in the space of an hour, it still gets to him. Heero wakes
up in the middle of the night feverish and shaky for the first time in
By the end of the second day they've managed to steal a car battery and
rig it up to power the computers on low and at night the fan. Duo does
all the wiring himself: sparking the frosty green acid crust at the negative
feed just for the hell of it. Heero's altering Wing's schematics when
he glances over and shivers not at the blue sizzle, but the way Duo licks
the edge of his thumb where he's been burned.
There was an influx of refugees from former Pakistan a few years back
so it's a little easier for Duo and him to walk around the city, but they
still draw notice. They all have foraged papers saying they're so-and-so
from China, Romania, Uzbekistan, a medical student, an engineer -Duo even
has one that says he's a Peace Core worker which he finds immensely funny-
but it's still not a good idea for them to go outside. They will draw
too much attention. When Heero tries to reiterate this to Duo he snorts
and says, "Well we can't really blend in with the natives now
can we. At least not with your fucking awful sense of humor."
A little while later he comes back with 2 gallon bucket (the kind people
keep paint and bleach in) filled to the brim with water. Heero's standing
in the shelter of the doorway and Duo sort of pushes him in -forearm on
his chest- then shuts the door behind himself.
There aren't many showers or places to wash in the little complex. There's
grass in the back with some great flat bricks, but mostly there's some
pipes a few blocks down that tend to work most of the time. Heero hasn't
bathed in days, but then he's had worse. So he's a little surprised when
Duo hands him a strip of towel and pulls his shirt off over his head.
It's humid inside the little shack, so humid it feels like breathing underwater,
but he knows this has absolutely nothing to do with the sweat that breaks
out on his neck and flat stomach as Duo brushes elbows with him over and
over both their knees braced on the bucket.
On the 4th day he looks out one of the holes in the metal siding sees
the reds, blacks and yellows of the landlord's chickens, the grainy mercury
of the water pump, and the deep hollow places of cinder blocks that nothing
That night Duo punches him in the shoulder and tells him to "Move
the hell over." Turning to look at him, Heero can only see a sliver
of tan shoulder and rib like some disembodied man stepping out of the
dark, but it's enough. So much more than enough, that his hand is clenched
in a fist until morning so he can't touch himself.
On the 5th day, Duo calls him a "fucking coward chicken." He
spars with him on the dirt floor, in about 12x13 feet of space. Duo fights
by keeping his hands up in a guard around his face until the last second,
then letting them drop and punches him in the shoulder, elbow, kidney.
Both of them stopped wearing shirts days ago and each time Heero brushes
against him he can feel Duo's sweat on his shoulders, neck, elbows -warm-
the way blood wells up from a cut. There's dust everywhere. Inside his
mouth. The soles of his feet are coated. When Duo cuts a sharp jab to
his throat Heero coughs once, then spits on him before sitting up and
breaking his nose with a lazy flick of his wrist.
"Fuck," Duo says then laughs.
Heero's about to stop here and get the medkit when Duo slams a fist into
the side of his jaw and he can feel the way the bones pop against each
other. Suddenly he's right up in his face inches from his mouth. Duo's
wiped most of the blood off with the back of his hand and he realizes
he must have dodged, because besides a spectacular nose bleed and split
lip he's mostly okay. Heero's about to close his hand over the trachea
and end this when Duo makes the winning move. His knee comes up and traces
the inside of his thigh. The most vulnerable part of him laid open.
"Jesus, would you just-" Duo has to cross his elbows
and arms across his collarbones to hold him back against the wall. He
pushes Heero back so hard his head bangs against the siding and he swears
he's going to fucking kill him when Duo spits out, "Christ,
you're so, so-. Just let me, please, just-."
Then he brushes Heero's hair back from his face one-handed, and scrapes
his mouth down his jawbone, kisses his hairline. Duo tongues his navel
and licks downward rolling Heero's shorts down in abrupt, worshipful movements,
everything underneath damp and sweat slick. He presses his face into the
crook of his hip until Heero can feel the bridge of his nose and inhales,
drags his tongue all the way up from his calf muscle to the edge of his
pubic hair. He pulls back for a moment gasping, wipes a salty flow of
blood from his upper lip where it had started to dry and cake up. When
Duo puts his mouth on his cock, he thinks about shorting out like the
lamp circuit, thinks about the blue sizzle heat of the battery in his
In the end he looks down at his naked legs and sees a smear of red on
his inside thigh. Duo wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and comes
away with mostly blood then goes outside to spit and take a piss against
the side of the shed. When he comes back inside he crouches down next
to him and rubs his knuckles in the dirt. Heero's head is turned to the
side so he can rest his forehead against the cold waves of aluminum.
In the dark they're so close, he's like one of his fever-dreams and so
hot it's cloying. Duo smells like sharp edges and salt. Heero's never
smelled a razor blade, but he'd imagine it would be something like this.
A/N: I sorta wanted to do an unromanticised version of the mission-hook-up
fic. I've actually been to Nairobi, Kenya and I am not just making things
up. I have nothing against Nairobi and in fact the Kenyan people are some
of the nicest I've met. The countries mentioned in this fic were chosen
randomly and have no political connections of any kind (except china,
they have a treaty thingy with kenya). This might actually warrent 3 parts.
[part 2] [back to Singles l - z]