Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ DiD v. tKiSA ❯ Quit Shrieking, You Sound Like Relena ( Chapter 13 )

Quit Shrieking, You Sound Like Relena

"She has a penis! I touched a penis!" The haunting cry of a homophobic male in full flight echoed through the corridors of the dungeon. "Bleach! I need bleach! Aaah!"

Duo thought that this was kind of ridiculous considering the man was wearing full Riverdance make-up and had been athletically bouncing around as if he were the bastard child of Michael Flatley and Mikhail Barishnikov singing about being a man in tights not thirty minutes ago. Seriously, a man has to be secure in his masculinity to do that.

Single Brain Cell and his pals rushed into the room and stood around the table by his feet. The skirt of his dress was lifted and the Lord of the Dance pointed. "See?!"

Someone prodded at his dick. "It's real!"

"The Princess is a boy!"

Duo rolled his eyes. "Someone send a press release to the Horde."

The six members of SHIT local 869 huddled and whispered while Samson, the Token Straight Guy glared at Duo. "You're some kind of sick freak, kid." He wrinkled his nose. "What kind of a boy runs around in a dress pretending to be a princess? That's sick! You're a pervert!"

"You were just about to rape me and you're calling me a pervert? You so don't have room to cast aspersions on anyone else's sexuality." Duo shook his head. "You've obviously never met any fangirls."

"Fangirls?" Samson scratched his jaw.

The huddle broke before Duo could explain about such things as shounen ai and yaoi. "Samson! Get on the horn to Colonel Une and give her a sit-rep. We're going to put the princess in lock up until further instructions," Grunting Boy said.

Single Brain Cell leered at Duo. "Your ass is gonna be mine, pretty boy."

Samson glowered at Grunting Boy. "Do your own grunt work, Johnson. I'm an officer."

Johnson rolled his eyes. "We're all officers. Everyone who works in the prison system is an officer. I haven't seen an enlisted soldier anywhere near a cell block in the fifteen years I've been with Oz. The Colonel likes you, so you're nominated."

"She doesn't like me! She just appreciates the fact that some guys around here look at her ass instead of the General's!"

"So! Ogle her boobs on the vidphone if it makes you happy!" Johnson yelled. "Just do it!"

Grumbling, Samson slunk through the door. "You just wanna feel the little sick-o up."

The big, burly Oz officers unbuckled the leather straps and yanked Duo from the table by his armpits. "Hey! Watch it, twinkletoes. Hands off the merchandise!"

"Shut up, gundam scum!" Single Brain Cell barked.

Johnson, who held him up on the other side, sneered. "We need to find him a better outfit. The dress just doesn't do it for me. He looks like a girl."

Single Brain Cell shrugged as they hauled Duo through the door. "Some of us like to pretend we're into boys that look like girls so we can pretend we're actually straight so it doesn't look like every Oz officer blows the homosexual rapist curve."

Johnson snorted. "Frank, check wardrobe and see if we have anything more masculine for the boy. Something tight on the ass."

One of the six grunted and headed off.

"Here we go, gundam scum!" Single Brain Cell yelled. "Your new home."

A third big, burly Oz officer opened a thick, metal door and the two shoved Duo inside. They paused to leer at him before slamming the door shut and locking it.

"Well, fuck," Duo snapped.

"Duo?"

Duo spun around. "Heero!"

"I'm here to rescue you," Heero said firmly.

Duo almost choked on his laughter. Heero was sitting, his hands hanging over his head from the manacles that kept him chained to the wall. "And you're doing such a bang up job of it, too."

"You are laughing at me."

"Well, duh!"

The door exploded open and Leering Dork bounced in, carrying a stack of magazines. "I knew it!"

Duo put himself between the big, burly Oz officer and Heero. "Uh, knew what?"

Heero kicked Duo in the back of the leg. "Get out of the way, baka, I'm supposed to protect you."

"Right, Heero. You go ahead and do that chained to the wall."

Leering Dork dropped the magazines on the cot and whipped out a felt pen. "You're Duo Maxwell!"

Duo decided to neither confirm nor deny. "And you have a point?"

Leering Dork grinned in childish delight. It looked rather disconcerting in his big, burly, sadistic Oz officer face. "Can I have your autograph? I've got all your issues, though The Brave Gundam Pilot Takes It to Save His Friends is my favorite! Oh, I've got Mario's L2 Prostitute issue, so if you could autograph it for him, that'd be great!"

"What?!"

"You're the most popular centerfold in SHIT's monthly magazine! I have to admit, the Delicate Virgin was very hot." Leering Dork flipped open the top magazine and sure enough, there was Duo, chained, spread-eagled to the floor and staring at the camera with big, terrified eyes that were begging to be rescued. His outfit was a borrowed Oz uniform and had been ripped in strategic places to show an innocently enticing amount of flesh. The pictorial was entitled Shy, Virginal Gundam Pilot Gets Broken In. Next to a picture, where his averted face showed tears dripping toward the floor and he was hunched over to cover his shirtless chest as much as possible despite the chains, were his vital statistics, including the size of his genitalia and a blurb about how this sweet, little Gundam pilot enjoys dancing to J-pop with his friends, ice cream cones on the beach, and flying kites in the park. Leering Dork glared. "I get it for the articles!"

Duo was too busy cringing at a picture of himself, bound with rope, crying. He was a boy and boys don't cry!

Giggling, Leering Dork flipped open another issue to show a snarling Duo bent over a chair and tied to it. This pictorial was entitled The God of Death Goes Down Hard. "Johnson loves this one. He's getting his own mags for you to sign. You are so hot, Mr. Maxwell! I love your work!"

Duo peered intently at the snarling Duo. The thing looked real. "What the fuck?"

"Frank really liked you in the crossdressing issue. We tried to get him into the Token Straight Guy job because he likes his boys in dresses, but he likes giving blow jobs too much. Frank can't wait to pound your ass in that dress. You'll probably like Frank because he's the only one of us who isn't allergic to lube." Leering Dork handed the felt pen to Duo. "Can you sign these to George, with love, Your Hot Gundam Pilot, Duo? Oh my god, Eric over at the Beijing Base is going to be sooooo jealous!"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I just wish I wasn't allergic to lube. It's not that I care about your comfort, after all, blood and shrieks of agony are such a turn on, but dry fucking is hard on your penis, you know?" Leering Dork giggled again. "Every member of SHIT absolutely dreams of the day when you'll get captured and incarcerated on our base! We've even got prisoner transfers all mapped out so we can pass you around with the most efficiency! There's even plans to trade you for any of the other Gundam Pilots we might catch because you are the hottest pilot around. Well, except for 01 there. He has a few fans, including Colonel Marquise. The Colonel would kill us if we traded him for you. Luckily, we've got you both!"

"Zechs?" Duo's jaw dropped. "But Zechs is second in command at Peacemillion!"

Leering Dork shrugged. "Word is that Lady Une is out to get him, so he moonlights with the Sweepers. I'll just leave these with you while I go find out when I get to rape you." The big, burly Oz officer giggled on his way out.

Heero ripped the manacles out of the wall and wandered over to flip through The God of Death Goes Down Hard. "Interesting."

"Forget it, Yuy," Duo growled. "Can you believe this shit? I never posed for this stuff!"

"Looks realistic."

Duo snorted in disgust and went to a corner to sulk.

.

Twenty minutes later....

.

Wufei strode between the two big, burly Oz officers as if he owned the place. They'd captured him by sheer luck near the motorcycles. His wallet and his katana were now in the custody of the prison warden and he was being led into the bowels of the castle to whatever fate the treacherous and dishonorable Oz curs had in store for him. It did not matter. He was Chang Wufei and they would not break him.

This injustice was all Maxwell's fault, anyway.

The two big, burly Oz officers stopped and unlocked a door. One of them leered and goosed his butt before he was tossed into a cell. Dishonorable lechers!

"Wuffie!"

Wufei gaped in horror. "Maxwell!"

The braided baka grinned. "In the flesh! It's great to see you, did you come to fuck up in rescuing me, too?"

Wufei blinked. "Yuy? You were captured as well?"

Yuy momentarily paused in his quiet perusal of a magazine to glare. Maxwell scribbled something in another magazine and grunted to himself in satisfaction.

"Why are you doing that, baka?" Yuy demanded, sounding annoyed.

"Gotta keep my fans happy!" the baka chirped.

"`George, hope you enjoyed the ass kicking I gave you as much as I did, love, the God of Death.'" Yuy tossed the magazine he'd been reading at the baka and snorted in disdain. The baka chortled.

"What in the name of justice are you talking about, Yuy?" Wufei snapped. He stalked to the cot they were sitting on and snatched the magazine from Duo's face. Then he dropped it as if it were molten lava. A mostly naked Maxwell, chained to a rough mattress, was grinning lasciviously at the camera through half-lidded, sloe eyes. The caption read "The L2 Whore Takes on the Cell Block".

The in the flesh Maxwell grinned all the more. "Like it, Wuffie?"

"Injustice!" Wufei shrieked. He was unable to summon a nosebleed as the big, burly Oz officer that had pinched his rump had relieved him of his toothpick earlier. "I will not tolerate this, this filth!"

"You'll love it here! This place is fucked up, Wuffers. You'n the Lord of the Dance are the only straight guys. Though, you are so in the closet." Maxwell's grin turned maniacal. "I can help you with that."

Wufei backed away slowly, so as not to alarm Maxwell into pouncing. Yuy grabbed the trailing end of Maxwell's braid and yanked him to a halt. Maxwell pouted, then dropped back onto the cot next to Yuy. Wufei let loose a cautious breath and settled himself into a corner to wait for the big, burly Oz officers' dishonorable next move.

Eyeing the other two suspiciously when Maxwell began to earnestly whisper to his partner, Wufei wondered what Maxwell was up to and if Yuy would be able to restrain him. Yuy violently shook his head and settled his death glare on the wall opposite the cot. Maxwell snorted and poked Yuy in the ribs, then redoubled his whisper campaign. Yuy's eyes latched on to Wufei's face and his expression was, ancestors, Yuy was looking nervous and--dare he say it--vulnerable. Wufei blinked, wide-eyed, at this uncharacteristic display of emotion on Yuy's normally stoic, handsome, coldly angelic face. After a moment, Maxwell gave Yuy a tender, yet passionate kiss, then nodded, his bangs flying attractively. He leaned against Yuy and stared at Wufei.

Wufei swallowed the lump in his throat and told himself that he was neither nervous nor concerned by this behavior.

Maxwell offered him a tentative smile, not the usual grin, but a soft smile. "Wufei?"

Wufei glared dangerously. "Maxwell."

Maxwell's incredible eyes flicked nervously from his hands to Wufei's face. His fingers alternately picked at the tuft of his braid and strangled it. "I didn't want to say anything, because, you know, I was afraid. I was afraid of how you would, you know, react. I really value your friendship and I don't want you to hate me because, um, because of what I've always wanted to tell you, but couldn't. But now, well, we're here. And we're going to be executed, maybe tomorrow, after we're tortured for information and probably raped, too."

Yuy grunted and clutched at Maxwell's hand in a reassuring manner. Wufei blinked.

Maxwell gave Yuy a shaky little smile, then turned an earnest face back to Wufei. Those beautiful amethyst eyes gleamed in the dim prison light with unshed tears. "I just wanted to tell you, before it was too late, Wufei. I love you. Me and Heero both do."

Yuy tossed Maxwell an unreadable look, then gave Wufei a slight nod.

"We both loved you first, you know? You're so sexy and wonderful and honorable and hot and we just couldn't help but fall in love with you." Maxwell sighed and blushed a little. "We couldn't tell you because we were afraid you'd hate us. How could you love us? I'm a nothing L2 street rat and Heero is a killer and you're this wonderful, shining beacon of justice from a great family. So we turned to each other."

Yuy tried the slight nod out on Wufei again.

Maxwell's eyes pleaded with Wufei. "We talked about it and now that it's too late and we're all gonna be executed at Oz's hands, we decided to stop being afraid of our feelings and talk to you. We want to try. We love each other, but we love you, too."

Undoubtedly feeling more practiced at it, Yuy added his opinion on the matter with another slight nod for Wufei.

Wufei found himself rendered mute and gaping. Maxwell, the exuberant, full of life spirit was in love with him? Anyone would be envious of being the object of the braided beauty's affection. And Yuy? The coldly beautiful warrior who was the essence of perfection? Yuy loved him?

Maxwell offered Wufei a soft, welcoming smile. He patted the cot beside him, next to Yuy's leg. "Come, Wufei, come let us love you."

Wufei's jaw clamped shut. He read the sultry invitation in Maxwell's face and found it echoed in Yuy's. Well, as sultry-ily as a block of beautifully crafted warrior marble could invite.

Maxwell nudged Yuy in the ribs with his elbow. Yuy patted the cot as well, rattling the chains that still held his wrists handcuffed together. "Wufei."

There was only one thing a warrior could do when faced with two gorgeous men offering their love and devotion. He ran. Screaming.

A lovelorn voice chased him down the hall, gloating. "See, Heero! I told you!"

Panting more with terror than exertion, Wufei bolted past a couple of startled guards and fled up a set of stairs. He charged through the great hall and up another flight of stairs. He wasn't terribly sure where he was going and, at the moment, didn't care. Maxwell and Yuy wanted to.... Well, it was not to be borne! Maxwell, he could understand. Maxwell had been trying to worm his way into Wufei's bed for a year and half now. But Yuy? He couldn't understand it. What possessed Yuy to join in Maxwell's madness?

Wufei skidded around a corner and slipped through a pair of heavy double doors. Sucking in air, he forced himself to calm a little. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with love. There had been Meilan when he was a child. He had love her. He had hated her. He had been, on the whole, rather indecisive about the whole thing. He carried on his slavish devotion to justice in her memory. Sometimes his slavish devotion was based on the tortuous guilt he felt because he hadn't been able to save her despite the tender love and unshakeable respect he felt for her brilliance of spirit and her stout heart. Sometimes his slavish devotion was based on a tortuous guilt that he hadn't saved her because he couldn't stand to be near her; she was disrespectful, embittered, angry, and female. Sometimes his slavish devotion wasn't based on anything. He was just used to it.

"Chang Wufei," a silken voice purred. "At last we meet."

Wufei whirled. "Treize Khushrenada!"

.

Back in the dungeon....

.

"Hn." Heero grabbed the baka by his trailing braid and yanked him to a halt.

"I told you!" the baka crowed. Again. "You give ol' Wuffie a goose on his homophobia and he can knock down doors, leap a building in a single bound, and outrun a choo choo train." The baka frowned. "I forgot how that goes. Lessee, able to leap tall buildings, check. Faster than a, uh, dammit faster th-aaaah! Watch the hair, goddammit!"

Heero ignored the yelping and concentrated on rescuing his not-princess by dragging him through the Wufei-shaped hole in the wall next to the door by his braid. Silently, he ran through the mission specs in his head with a slight frown. Something wasn't quite right.

"Heeeero! Goddammit, that hurts! Leggo my hair!"

"Shut up, baka. I'm rescuing you."

Duo dug his feet in. "I don't want to be rescued! I can do it myself! I'm not some stupid helpless damsel in distress, goddammit, and your fucking True Love isn't gonna fucking make it all goddamned better."

Heero frowned. "Quatre said that you would let me rescue you."

Duo snorted. "Quatre doesn't know jack shit."

Heero sighed. "Will you please let me rescue you?"

Duo glared. "You don't have to sound like you're chewing glass when you ask, you know."

Heero forced a smile onto his face. From Duo's shudder, he understood that it looked more rabid than pleasant, but he was unused to both smiling and pleasant, so rabid would have to do whether the baka liked it or not. "Please let me rescue you, Duo?"

"Fine," Duo snapped with a huff. He crossed his arms over his chest and squinted. "Well, hop to. Get to rescuing me and all that. I'm hungry."

"I need to take care of these cuffs first."

Duo rolled his eyes. "I'll just get out my lockpicks and have them o--"

"No." Heero glared. "It's my mission."

"How do you plan on getting the cuffs off?"

Heero doubled the wattage on his glare. He hated it when Duo used that patient, explaining-to-a-two-year-old tone. His glare melted into an evil grin when two of the big, burly Oz officers came out of an office, chatting pleasantly about the merits of the tensile strength of titanium versus the chafing issues it caused on the delicate skin of the wrist. They froze when they spotted the two escaped prisoners, then leaped forward, bellowing commands.

"Perfect," Heero said, suddenly very pleased. "Let one of them molest you."

Duo blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Let one of them molest you," Heero ordered.

"I thought you were rescuing me! You even asked! What the fuck?"

"Quit shrieking, you sound like Relena."

The two big, burly Oz officers surrounded them, one grabbing Duo by butt and braid, the other latching onto Heero's arm.

"Hey!" Duo squawked. "Hands off the ass, dickhead! I'm not that kind of fucking princess!"

Heero tried to get mad, but Duo had been more indignant than hurt. Heero smacked Duo in the head. "Baka! I can't rescue you if you don't need to be rescued."

Duo glared, elbowing the octopus behind him in the ribs. "The Horde is no where near here. You'll have to fake it."

Heero called the run-of-the-mill glare and raised him a death glare. "It's my mission, baka. I will run it efficiently as I have been trained to."

"Getting captured again is not my idea of an efficiently run mission!"

Heero snorted. "I have done the research, baka. You are not in sufficient danger. You cannot be rescued until you are. No one has actually attempted to rape you, yet."

Duo's jaw dropped. "Are you insane?"

"Negative. I was declared mentally fit at my last psych evaluation."

"It doesn't count if you were pointing your guns at the docs!" Duo bellowed. He whipped around and decked the big, burly Oz officer, knocking him out cold. "Keep your goddamned hands to yourself!"

Heero glared at the floor and mumbled.

Duo paused in the delivery of several sharp kicks to the prone officer's backside. "What was that?"

Heero noted with satisfaction that it was unlikely that the prone officer would have a cute butt when his Duo was finished administering his tantrum to the officer's buttocks. "It was only one gun and I didn't have a round chambered. The man had no cause for alarm. It is not my fault if Baron J is unable to hire properly trained medical personnel."

"Oh, yeah, that makes it all better," Duo grumbled. The baka gave the officer a particularly vicious kick. "Did it occur to you, Mr. Perfect Spandex Butt, that if you don't rescue me before I get raped then someone else will have had the pleasure of fucking me?"

Heero's glare blistered the stone wall behind Duo. "All of the research that I have conducted clearly indicates that I will rescue you immediately prior to penetration."

The big, burly Oz officer that held Heero tried to inject himself between the two. "Hey, remember me? Big guy with a gun who captured you?"

Heero popped him in the jaw and he dropped like a rock. Just to be thorough, Heero liberally applied his steel toed sneakers to the man's butt. He grunted in satisfaction after a few well-placed kicks. There was no way that the not-princess could find that butt cute now.

"Research? Research?" Duo was shrieking like Relena again. Heero considered popping him in the jaw as well, but didn't think his baka would be as amenable to having sex if he did that. Additionally, pain in the mandible might make kissing unenjoyable for his baka and he did not want to chance such an event. "Where in the fuck do you research rescuing me from rape?"

"The ladies-in-waiting that surround the Princess Relena provided me with several Internet sites that contained thousands of mission plans in the event that I would be required to rescue you from an Oz prison." Heero glowered at Duo. "You are not cooperating with outlined mission parameters. Your duty is to be at the mercy of these prison officers. You are permitted to cry and call for me. You may also curse, taunt, and otherwise aggravate prison officers. You are not to rescue yourself, me, or otherwise assist in your escape. It would make it difficult for me to carry you from the prison if you have already rescued yourself."

His not-princess's jaw dropped open. Heero was not so stupid as to believe that silence meant acquiescence, no matter how much he wished it. He glared again, so that his baka would understand that important information was to be imparted and he should follow instructions to the letter. "These simulated missions frequently required you to be naked and raped by prison officials." Heero deepened the glare for good measure. "I took the liberty of writing these parameters out of the mission. You will only be naked for me and you will only have sex with me. Is that understood?"

The not-princess stared, glassy-eyed, at him. The officer at his feet moaned in pain and Heero kicked him again to shut him up. The echo of several feet racing in their direction pounded through the stone corridor. "You will not take your clothes off," Heero ordered.

They were suddenly surrounded by big, burly Oz officers who intently began carting them to a cell next to the one with the Wufei-shaped hole in the wall. Heero noted that two of these officers sported tight rear ends that might be considered cute.

"Heero?" The baka said faintly. "Where did you say you found these, uh, simulated missions?"

The door to the cell slammed shut. "At several websites provided by Relena's ladies-in-waiting."

"I, uh, see. Did these happen to be the Horde ladies-in-waiting, by any chance?"

Heero nodded curtly. "The same."

"Your rescue-me-from-rape mission comes from fangirls?"

"Affirmative." Heero was too busy plotting how to make the butts on those two Oz officers uncute to pay any attention to his baka's indignant shrieking.

.

Back in Treize Khushrenada's suite....

.

"Khushrenada," Wufei spat. "You dishonorable cur! I have sworn to kill you for what you have done to my clan!"

"I am truly sorry for the loss of a people that have spawned such a magnificent creature," Khushrenada said. "However, I am not in the mood to be killed this evening. You'll have to wait until it suits my purposes."

"I challenge you to a duel, Khushrenada!"

Treize smiled, obviously amused, and trailed his eyes from the tip of Wufei's boots to the top of his head. "With what? You appear to be lacking in weaponry. Unless, of course, you plan on using the sword you were born with?"

Wufei frowned. The sword he was-- "The sword I was born with?"

Treize sighed. "I like to preface my duels with witty sexual innuendo."

Wufei glared. "I am of the Dragon Clan, we are adaptable in combat."

"Little dragon, this is where you tell me about where you intend to sheathe your sword." Treize chuckled. "You are delightful! So full of fire and naivete."

"Kisama! You're worse than Maxwell! Is this continent populated with nothing but perverts?!" Wufei reflexively clutched at the pocket where he kept his toothpick.

Treize's smile turned gentle. "Ah, my sweet little dragon, you didn't know? We are bishounen. That means we're perverts."

"I am not little!" Wufei roared.

"Well, you do know what they say about Asian men," Treize purred.

"Kisama!" Wufei leaped for the sideboard piled with the remnants of Treize's dinner. There were no knives handy. There wasn't even a toothpick. There were a few pieces of chicken in a red, paper bucket and several pieces of plastic dinnerware lying on plain, paper napkins. Casting about the room in disgust for a final time and cursing the warden to the Hell of Burning Jock Itch for taking his sword, Wufei snatched up a piece of plasticware and whirled on Treize. "Face the wrath of the Last of the Dragon Clan, tyrant!"

Treize lifted an eyebrow and smothered a smirk. "Will you permit me to similarly arm myself, darling dragon?"

Glowering in a way that Wufei considered to be dangerous and Treize considered to be adorable, Wufei stepped aside and gestured to the sideboard magnanimously. Treize picked through the available dinnerware and chose his weapon with care. Wufei heaved a disgusted sigh. "Can we please get on with it?"

Treize took a few practice swings with his weapon of choice and decided that he was as pleased with it as he was going to get under the circumstances. He smiled at Wufei. "I believe I shall name my weapon Exsporkibur."

"Utter nonsense!" Wufei declared.

"I believe, precious dragon, that it was you who chose the dueling weapon. I have named my personal sword Rosarian and the matching sheath is called Rosebud. Clever, no?"

Wufei let his weapon hang loosely at his side and glared at Treize suspiciously. "What injustice are you babbling about?"

Treize just laughed. "En garde, my beautiful dragon!"

At last. Wufei brought his weapon to point in line. "You will taste the fury of the Dragon Clan on the blade of my Mighty Spork of Justice!" He lunged, the tines held forward in a perfect attack.

Around his nearly incessant and quite annoying chortles, Treize parried the opening sally and immediately followed through with a riposte. After a flurry of attack and counter-attack, Wufei found himself on his knees, the tines of Exsporkibur digging into the soft flesh of his throat, beneath his upraised chin.

"You have won," Wufei hissed. "What are you waiting for? Kill me!"

"Kill you? What ever for?"

"You defeated me! It is your right as the victor to claim my life! Kisama, do you know nothing of justice?"

Treize smiled and pulled the spork from Wufei's neck. "Of course, dragon. I defeated you and now I will claim my prize."

Wufei shut his eyes and lifted his chin higher. He was of the Dragon Clan and he would die with honor, though, he did have to wonder how painful his death would be at the hands of a flimsy spork. Perhaps the tyrant would be decent enough to fetch a real sword.

"Such beauty. Such fire," Treize murmured.

Expecting to have his jugular hacked at with a piece of cheap plastic, Wufei was quite shocked to find himself kissed instead.