Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Crossing Paths Arc ❯ Advances ( Chapter 9 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Kracken

Disclaimer: Don't own them and Don't make any money off of this.
Warnings: Male/male sex, graphic, violence, language, drug addiction, Maladjusted Gundam Boys.

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Crossing Paths Arc
Sequel to Sparks#8

Advances #9

Sighing contentedly, Duo snuggled into down comforters, a gel
mattress, and fresh linen covered pillows. He ignored the troubled voice inside
of himself that said 'this is wrong', for as long as he could, hiding
underneath a flap of comforter from the rising sun streaming through
picture windows. When the sun reached midmorning, Duo finally began to
question the very fact that he was in a bed.

Opening his amethyst eyes, Duo blinked at his bedroom and the bright
light pooling over the well appointed furnishings. He remembered... Duo
sat up, rubbing at his eyes and then pushing his hair out of his face
by raking it back impatiently with his fingers. He had fallen asleep
last night in the solarium.

He still had his clothes on, and for that Duo was grateful. That meant
that someone had carried him to bed, but had not treated him completely
like a child by performing the embarrassing duty of undressing him and
tucking him in. It still bothered Duo that he hadn't noticed those
ministrations, but had slept through it. He was trained to have a hair
trigger, conditioned to wake and respond to the slightest abnormality in
his surroundings. That he hadn't was an indication of his condition. The
stressful revelations, tension, and travel, had left him exhausted to
the point where he was both not thinking clearly and not being alert.

Soldier mode, Duo reminded himself and squinted at the rising sun. He
had grown used to sleeping late, having nothing to wake up to unless it
was one of his infrequent doctor appointments. Laziness, both
intentional and a by-product of the drugs, had to be stopped. Duo didn't have
time to sleep. Things were coming to a head, he felt, and he needed all
the time he could get to figure things out before... before what?

Duo forced himself out of the warm bed and padded across the cold
floor to a table and chair by the window. He blinked at his bottles of
pills lined up there and a glass of water. Sitting down heavily, the ritual
kicked in and Duo had a mindless minute where he accomplished the task
of taking his pills. Ritual completed, Duo's mind took control again as
if it hadn't occurred and Duo picked up exactly where he had left off
in his thoughts.

Duo frowned and rubbed at his eyes, the sun stinging them. He needed
to identify his danger before he could protect himself against it, he
reasoned. That in itself, he knew, was going to be a hard task. There
were levels of omissions, lies, and enemies. Sorting them out, and putting
them in a list of posing the most danger, was going to be difficult, if
not impossible, considering his lack of facts.

Problem Heero had been, or was, part of the Tiger Cell, the fanatic
mercenaries that had given Oz, natives of Earth, and the Colonists,
nightmares. Their past atrocities were a fact. Duo had seen some of them
himself. Heero was claiming that there had been factions and that he had
been a part of the good faction, if such a term could be used to
describe the men who had made the wholesale slaughter of Oz troops their
mission in life. Heero had come to Duo to evaluate him for his superiors,
Finding out what he had been evaluated for, and who those superiors
were, went on Duo's mental list. Until he had the facts of Heero's
innocence. Duo couldn't trust him.

Duo felt a pang in his heart. He rubbed his chest and bowed his head,
remembering Heero's warm lips on his. In the war, they had all learned
the cost of personal entanglements. When a person might have violently
died at any time, when self sacrifice had been the order of the day,
and subterfuge had been the only way to survive, having to worry about
another individual could, not only cost a soldier his life, but the lives
of those depending on him. Heero had held to that philosophy like a
zealot. If he was still doing missions, for whatever reason, it didn't
seem likely that he would try to advance some sort of relationship with
Duo now. It seemed even less likely that he would ignore his mission,
and, perhaps, his superiors, to take the time to help Duo. Knowing that,
the motivation for the kiss became even more suspect. Duo had found out
Heero's secret. Distraction, like an unexpected kiss, and
misinformation, would have been Duo's first choice during the war as well.

Duo's hands squeezed his knobby knees hard and he glared at nothing
for a very long time, hating himself, hating his weakness, and hating his
heart that was hurting so much when he needed it to be hard and cold.
He needed to be like Heero had been during the war. He needed to forget
personal entanglements, forget his heart, and center his entire being
on figuring out what the hell was going on in his life.

Next problem, Duo thought, forcing himself with a tremendous effort to
go on with his mental list. How sick was he, how much was caused by the
drugs, and how much of his health could be corrected after four years?
Those question were almost as anxiety inducing as whether Heero was
duping him or not. What would he do if Quatre's doctors told him that the
drugs were causing his difficulties? What would he do if they weren't?
What might happen if Quatre's psychologist were to make the same
diagnosis as the supposed Oz sympathizer? How would he, Duo, cope if he found
out that he really was paranoid and that Heero was only feeding on that
paranoia for his own reasons? Worse yet, how much could he trust
Quatre's doctors? Duo shook his head sharply at that, refusing to fall into
complete paranoia. At some point, he had to trust, and he felt more
comfortable trusting Quatre and his hand picked staff, rather than any
alternative.

Yet another problem; if there was a plot against him, then why? Old
enemies from the war seemed the best bet, but Duo, cringing inwardly, had
only to recall that he had killed most of them. The exception was
Milliardo Peacecraft. Also known as Zechs, Duo knew that the man could be a
cold-blooded killer when the need arose. A soldier through and through,
Zechs' honor and his own morals, had never stood in the way of his
duty. Duo recalled his hot tongue, his searching hands, and his very
handsome face smiling with eager lust, tempered by a commanding, aristocratic
bearing. Unfortunately, Duo could recall little else. His dealings with
Zechs had been minimal to none during the war. It was true he had
helped thwart Zechs from harming the Earth, but so had others. If the man
had been looking for revenge, Heero would have been a more likely target.
Duo didn't think that tumbling the virginity of, what had been, the
least known of the Gundam pilots, much of a substitute or a starting point
in any vendetta.

Duo was left with a more reasonable conclusion in the end and one that
he felt inclined to settle on. He, and the other Gundam pilots, had
been a problem for the government. Heero had disappeared. Quatre had been,
and was still, the untouchable head of the Winner name and all that
went with it. Wu Fei had retired to an eccentric, scholar's life. Trowa
had wisely attached himself to Quatre and, therefore, had made himself
just as untouchable. Only Duo had neglected to 'fit in' completely into
society. He had accepted awards, tried to attend parties, and had
attempted to live up to the name of war hero while celebrating peace in a
string of rather wild and exuberant ways. He had been so young, Duo
remembered, and there had never been a time in his life when he had been
free, and monetarily able, to live a comfortable life full of
possibilities. It had been like being drunk, he recalled; happy, full of
anticipation, and ready to stretch his wings and be something great. Duo had
wanted to live up to his reputation, had wanted to be the war hero, and had
wanted people to look up to him and admire him. He had also wanted to
forget his terrible life on L2 and to be the kind of man that children
would want to grow up to be.

Duo put his face in his hands, elbows braced on the tabletop. He felt
black misery overcome him and he wallowed in it, remembering the metal
ward, the endless questions, the drugs, the therapy that had left him
confused and doubting; doubting himself enough to do what ever he was
told, take what ever he was given no matter what it did to him. By the
time they had denied him space, called him a menace, issued their endless
demands, and began creating the false image of an unstable,
party-whore, freak, menace to society Duo Maxwell, Duo had lacked the will or the
health to fight back.

Duo's hands gripped his own face hard, fingers digging into flesh. If
he discovered that they had lied to him, that his paranoia was
justified, that four years of 'treatment' had been a coordinated effort with
the people who had smeared his good name to bring him down and control
him, Duo felt that the sky was the limit for what he would do then.

There was a brief knock on the door and it opened right after that,
Trowa pacing into the apartment without waiting for an answer as Duo
looked up from his hands. Marks from his fingers were livid on his cheeks.

"Will you sleep all day?" Trowa wondered softly. "I have been
waiting."

"Waiting?" Duo echoed, trying to come out of his own thoughts and
almost prevented from doing so by the growing haze of the drugs.

"To apologize," Trowa clarified as he went to a large window and
looked out, a strong hand holding back the curtain as he continued
nonsensically, "Quatre has set up tea on the gazebo. He would like you to join
us there."

Trowa looked like a poem, Duo noticed as he tried to fathom those two
trains of thought, a poem about soft angst and young men in love.
Trowa's soft eyes were unaffected by the strong sunlight and he was seeing
something that made them fairly glow with emotion. Quatre, of course,
Duo guessed. The Gazebo must be in sight of the window.

"I shouldn't have judged you so quickly," Trowa said regretfully, but
explained, "Quatre is too soft hearted most times. He doesn't, or
won't, see that some men are too reprehensible to help. I try to protect
him, now, by keeping those types of people from taking advantage of him."

Duo glared. "You thought that I was trying to take advantage of
Quatre? It wasn't even my choice to come here!"

"I know that now," Trowa admitted. "Quatre and Heero explained that
you truly are in need of help of one kind... or another."

"I'm glad that someone else isn't sure what kind of help I need," Duo
sighed and stood up. He scooped his pills into his duffel bag and
zipped it up. It was a nervous motion. He didn't trust his new
accommodations enough to leave them just lying about. "Heero is convinced I'm a dupe
and Quatre is convinced that I'm shell shocked from the war."

Trowa gave a slight shrug. "You look like a starved monkey with big
purple eyes," he said as if it wasn't anything personal. "You're all thin
arms and legs. You look nervous and your skin twitches once in awhile.
I also heard about your... episode in the foyer. Many things could
explain your condition, but I chose the most obvious, that you were what
every news vid and story painted you to be, an out of control, perverted,
drug addict, who had a penchant for graveyards, corpses, and attacking
decent people in clubs."

Duo snorted in sour amusement as he levered himself up from his chair.
He needed a shower, clean clothes, and a clean bill of health from
Quatre's doctors, not to be sipping tea and enduring doubtful looks and
potentially upsetting conversation, even if Trowa was deciding to be nice
now.

"I'm not going to tea," Duo explained. "I have too much to do. Thank
Quatre anyway."

Trowa simply inclined his head and headed for the door without
arguing, without trying to persuade a too thin Duo that he needed to eat. Duo
felt a bite of anger, until he caught a glimpse of Trowa's relaxing
shoulders and a brief expression of relief. He hadn't wanted a tense
brunch in the gazebo any more than Duo.

Duo let out a small sigh as Trowa quietly closed the door behind him.
Duo felt relief, and a bit of gratitude, as the anger slipped away.
Sometimes, silence and acceptance worked wonders and Duo wondered how long
it had been since anyone had so quietly accepted his will about
anything. It felt good. Duo's gratitude towards Trowa deepened as he tucked
his pack where he could easily get to it and then went into the bathroom
to shower. He needed to hold onto that good feeling as long as he
could, Duo thought, knowing that anything Quatre's doctors could tell him
was probably not going to be news he wanted to hear.

After his shower, Duo found sweaters and coats in a closet
purposefully left open to catch his attention. Taking a cue from Trowa, Duo
slipped into a black, close fitting turtleneck and a pair of dark blue jeans.
Putting on his low cut boots, Duo ignored the wall of mirrors in the
bathroom. They were always going to be his enemy, he felt, and he wasn't
going to spoil his mood by being confronted by his reflection; a stick
figure wrapped in clothes, an over meter long, chestnut braid, it's
only saving grace.

"Hate you," Duo whispered to the mirrors as he passed them, feeling
foolish, but needing to reassert himself, even if it was to inanimate
objects.

Opening the front door of his room, Duo found Rashid standing outside
as patient as the mountains, face unreadable and burly arms crossed
over his barrel chest. He nodded to Duo sternly, his desert weathered
features so commanding that Duo knew better than to argue his presence
there. He was only following orders after all, Duo thought bitterly,
Quatre's orders.

"So," Duo asked tightly. "Were you the one who found me last night?"

"Everyone was ordered to search," Rashid replied in his deep voice,
"but it was Heero who told me that you liked the stars and that he would
search outside. I took his information and deduced a different outcome.
Knowing your weakened state, I surmised that you might have gone to one
of the solariums or the observatory."

"There's an observatory?" Duo replied. When Rashid nodded, Duo made a
note to visit it. Turning his mind back to his growing embarrassment,
prickling anger, and bitterness, he felt the need to ask, "You carried
me back to my room and put me to bed?"

Rashid nodded again. "I also informed Quatre that you didn't look well
and that it might be wise to stand by in case you needed assistance-"

"A guard," Duo interrupted, riding over Rashid's last word. "You
thought that I might be crazy and dangerous. I bet you're about to follow me
around today, aren't you?"

Rashid inclined his head yet again and said nothing. There definitely
was not going to be an argument about it, Duo understood from the look
in Rashid's stern, black eyes. Duo decided not to press it, not to sink
any lower into depression by having Rashid show him just how powerless
he was. Trowa's silent kindness was even more appreciated now that Duo
was given a refresher of how things really were for him.

"I'm going to the doctor today," Duo said quietly, looking anywhere
but at Rashid. "I hope that you're not intending to go into the
examination room with me or sit and listen in while I talk about my personal
business with the psychiatrist. I would really...," he swallowed the bile
of disgust at himself for the slight, begging tone to his voice, "I
would really appreciate it if you would trust me and not- not do that."

Rashid developed a small crease between his eyes. It seemed forever
before he said, "I will stand at the door as I did here. I will not go
in."

Duo let out a small breath of relief, but he didn't thank Rashid. The
man was granting him a small favor, but that didn't rectify that he
thought that Duo was unstable and a danger to his Master Quatre and
others. Stiffening his shoulders, unconsciously trying to stand taller next
to the large man, Duo decided to ignore him and continue with his
business. It was hard not turning around though. Rashid was silent for such a
large man and, just knowing that he was a trained soldier, was enough
to set Duo's awakening soldier instincts on edge. Those instincts were
sending warning alarms, reminding him that a man who wanted to live to a
ripe old age didn't turn his back on a potential enemy.

Some of Duo's nervousness seemed to communicate itself to Rashid. He
suddenly lengthened his stride and moved ahead of Duo saying, "I'll show
you the way." Duo noticed that he didn't rate an honorific even as
small as Sir or Mr. Maxwell. With Rashid and his men, such honorifics had
to be earned. It told Duo where he stood in Rashid's estimation.

"I want to see Heero first," Duo told him. "Is he out having tea with
Quatre?"

"No," Rashid replied. "Trowa informed me that he had declined."

"Are you having him watched as well?" Duo wondered.

"Not as closely as you are, but he is at odds with Master Quatre,"
Rashid replied with a patient, 'of course', tone to his words.

"Over me," Duo clarified all on his own and Rashid gave another one of
his too noble nods; condescending to answer. "Let's see if Heero is in
his room then."

Rashid adjusted their direction, backtracking to another hallway and
then pacing sedately while Duo had to hurry his steps like a child to
keep up. It hurt. It made him tired. Gravity pulled at Duo and his joints
protested every step. Duo endured it, unwilling to ask Rashid to slow
down and suffer worse than pain, more embarrassment.

When they reached Heero's door, Duo had to lean against it and catch
his breath, the sickly sheen of pain and exhaustion clear on his face.
"S-Stay out here," Duo told Rashid, mustering enough temper to try to
make it an order.

Rashid stared, stared until Duo had to look away and back down, but
Rashid didn't take advantage, he simply said, "I will wait here, just as
I said I would."

"G-Good!' Duo panted and felt the need to get away from Rashid's dark,
appraising stare. He couldn't tell what the man was thinking, but Duo
was imagining disgust, disgust that a simple walk had exhausted Duo.

Duo fumbled for the doorknob and let himself in. It was mid morning.
Heero, always an early riser, wouldn't be undressed or in bed at that
hour. Duo didn't even have much hope of finding him there. After closing
the door behind him, Duo reconsidered his unannounced entrance. He
should have knocked. Heero was still in active duty of some sort and his
hair trigger response might include accidentally shooting men who
surprised him.

Duo almost called out, opening his lips to do so, but then he heard a
moan come from the bathroom and he closed his mouth on it. The moan had
definitely come from Heero.

Duo crouched, every muscle tense. He didn't wait to get Rashid. If
Heero was ill or being attacked, then Duo was going to the rescue
immediately. Still, even as he moved quickly and silently to the bathroom door,
he memorized everything in the room, noted possible weapons he could
use, and thought of several ways he could disable an attacker even in his
weakened state. So, it caught him completely off guard when he saw that
Heero, far from being attacked or ill, was naked and bent over the
washbasin, pleasuring himself with intense motions.

Blood scalded Duo's face as his eyes went wide and his heart thudded
down to his toes. He had frozen in the doorway, breath sucked in and
still, shocked witness as Heero, eyes closed, face frowning in
concentration, and tiger tattoo rippling across his shoulder, was saying with
deep, growling, passion, "Oh, Duo, you are so tight! I knew you would be. I
just knew... That's it. Move with me. Spread yourself wider. Let me in.
Let me in all the way!"

Duo backed up, biting his lip and breaking skin. Tasting his own
blood, his mind tried to deny what he had just seen, unable to comprehend
that Heero Yuy was masturbating and fantasizing about him. Duo didn't
consider love or even passion as a reason for Heero's inexplicable
behavior. Instead, his thoughts wound down darker roads. When he caught a
reflection of himself as he passed a mirror, Duo couldn't help but glare at
it.

Big, purple eyes. A big eyed monkey; all arms and legs. That's the
way Trowa had described him and Duo thought that it was a fair
description. A strong, handsome, competent man like Heero Yuy shouldn't have been
fantasizing about him. unless... Duo thought of all the men who had
tried to crawl into his bed, the ones who had been fascinated by his
notoriety, by his long braid, by his purple eyes, by the very fact that he
was still as small and as slim as a fifteen-year-old boy. None of them
had cared about the whole package, least of all the mind, of Duo
Maxwell, and he had rejected every one of them. Duo thought that it had to be
that. Heero was fascinated by some small part of him, not Duo as a
whole. The whole package was too unpalatable for anyone.

Face burning again with reaction, Duo thought that he knew what might
be fascinating Heero just by the way the man had been masturbating,
taking the dominant role, imagining Duo captured beneath him, and that
opened up an entirely new avenue of understanding for Duo. His weakness
hadn't seemed to bother Heero. If Heero 'got off' on that weakness in
Duo, then it all made much more sense.

Duo went through the door of Heero's rooms and closed it very softly
behind him. Rashid raised an eyebrow. Duo didn't explain his quick
return, only swallowed hard, knowing he was red to his ears, and said,
"Doctors."

Rashid left his post by the door and led the way without question. He
didn't look back at Duo, seeming to understand that Duo needed some
time to regain his composure. It didn't take Duo long to begin to be angry
and to feel abused, even though Heero hadn't really touched him. The
idea that Heero was perverted, wanting a weak and small vessel for his
passions, set itself firmly in Duo's mind. Heero hadn't really touched
him, but Duo had the feeling, especially after the man's too forceful
kiss, that he might be leading up to it.

"Keep fucking yourself, Heero," Duo whispered angrily under his
breath, "You won't get a chance with me."

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