Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Case of the Forgotten Mission ❯ Untitled ( One-Shot )

(Untitled as of 12/25/02)

Heero Yuy was tired of her incessant stalking of him. He was tired of phone calls every two hours, tired of pink bubbly scented letters in the mail every morning, just tired of the pink bubbly blonde girl who sent them. His whereabouts were supposed to be top secret - he didn't need global positioning satellites tracking his every move. He'd tried threatening her and ignoring her… the only thing Heero hadn't tried yet was killing her, and he felt that if this went on any longer, he would do just that, despite the massive government investigations that would result. Although he wasn't certain how he would solve this problem, he had resolved to get one Relena Darlian Peacecraft out of his hair for good, and he was going to do this by himself before it was too late.

As his laptop booted up, he felt his lips curl in rabid frustration. How could it be so absurdly difficult for a double agent and assassin of his caliber to rid himself of a spoiled brat? Under ordinary circumstances, a dilemma like Relena wouldn't even be worth his time, but since her father was Governor Peacecraft and he was a Japanese citizen in the records, Relena's "removal" could cause a plethora of other problems. Heero still had a mission to complete. He couldn't afford to be deported.

"You have: one new message," the laptop stated monotonously. Heero clicked "Decrypt" and watched the narrow green bar crawl across the screen imperceptibly. He hoped it was a short message - a three sentence message might take fifteen minutes to decrypt, but a long one could take hours. He wondered if it was from Agent 002, the one who called him or her self "Shinigami".

He didn't know who Shinigami was, only that they both were two of five exclusive agents who had until now been working in different countries. Heero did realize that some sort of mutual affection had developed between himself and Shinigami; at least he wanted to believe it was mutual. He had often dismissed the idea as pure frivolity, but he could not deny that he awaited messages from this mysterious character with much anticipation, or that the rare but character-revealing instant messaging sessions they had made him a little dizzy and a little feverish each time. He refused to believe it was love, or even anything resembling love. It was probably just that Relena's constant ramblings of love had rubbed off on him.

After all, no one could possibly fall in love with someone he had never seen or spoken with, to his knowledge. He didn't even know whether Shinigami was male or female; for all he knew, Shinigami could be an obscenely obese woman twice or even three times his age. He shuddered at the thought. It's not likely… no one with that description would ever be assigned an espionage mission. It's just not practical.

The message had finished loading. Glancing at the header, Heero felt a sickening plunge in his chest as he saw that the message was not from Shinigami, but from the fifth agent, "Nataku".

"Rendezvous at 18:00," the message read. "Receive data disc. Printed ticket is authentic. Map attached." Heero retrieved the pages from his printer and glanced at his watch. Half an hour to six… I should be leaving right about now. That is, if I want to miss Relena's next phone call. He resisted the urge to sigh and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

-

-

Heero pulled up to a large, white building, then checked the map to confirm that it was the right place. An ice skating rink... there's some sort of competition here today. I was wondering why I needed a ticket… He dropped several quarters into a meter and walked briskly toward the entrance, but was abruptly swept along by a torrent of people. Er… who was I supposed to meet again? he thought faintly as a took a seat near the ice.

Heero surveyed his surroundings calmly. "Why must there be so many people?" he asked no one in particular. "And why must all of you be so noisy?" He snorted at the colored lights and evergreen boughs in disdain. I have no patience for such nonsense. He felt a sharp rap on his shoulder. "Hey you, kid… You're sittin' in my seat," a rather stout elf impersonator snapped behind him. He turned and caught the offending hand in a splintering grip. "…But I can find another one," he added hastily, and left as quickly as he could without running. Several neighboring people edged away nervously.

The icy draft from the gap in the Plexiglas panes was all that kept Heero awake during most of the skaters' performances. For the most part, he was not impressed; in fact, he believed he could skate as well as or even better than some of the skaters given a few hours of practice. Heero was grateful that he had missed the first half.

"Lucrezia Noin," the announcer stated matter-of-factly. The spectators cheered, even those who had never heard of her. They cheered when she performed well and cheered when she made mistakes. Heero wondered whether they cheered only because everyone else around them cheered, then settled comfortably on his bench to contemplate the magnititude of Avogadro's number.

Heero stood to leave; he couldn't take this nonsense any longer. "Duo Maxwell," the announcer declared, as music blared from the speakers. Heero stopped. This song was familiar, somehow; he couldn't remember where he had heard it before or when. He settled back into his seat to watch and listen. Just until the end of this song, he told himself. Then I'll leave. Whoever it is who has to give me that data will have to find me in my car. It can't be any harder than trying to find me in this place. He felt his thoughts flee his mind as he watched.

Heero found himself instantly drawn to the skater who had just stepped onto the ice. It was a slim, graceful young man, clad all in black, with the most extraordinary long hair pulled back in a braid that reached his ass. Relena, his mission, and even Shinigami momentarily forgotten, he watched, utterly captivated.

Night-time sharpens,

Heightens each sensation...

Darkness stirs

And wakes imagination...

Silently their senses

Abandon their defenses...

Slowly, gently

Night unfurls its splendour...

Mesmerized, Heero watched the boy skate before an audience of thousands, and wished he skated only for him. Heero marveled at the perfect roundness of his ass and the way the end of his braid flirted as he moved. Muscles tensed and relaxed visibly under the tight black material, strands of hair escaped the braid. Heero could no longer hear the cheers of fans or the booming voice of the announcer, only the sound of his quick, shallow breaths and the sharp song of steel skates across ice. (1)

He felt his mouth dry each time Duo leapt and pirouetted through the air; the black shirt rode up, revealing several inches of smooth, toned abdominals. Every drop of blood in his body seemed to pool in his lap; he pulled his long black overcoat closed around him. More strands of hair slipped from the braid; Heero thought he saw the tie slip from the Duo's hair. The braid unraveled as if in slow motion, and long chestnut brown strands streamed behind the young man unrestrained as he glided to a stop in the center of the ice. Heero wondered faintly what the hair would feel like if he ran his fingers through it. He shifted uncomfortably in his shift, wishing that his faded blue jeans weren't so tight - it was causing friction that he really shouldn't have been enjoying as much as he did.

The mass of spectators erupted in thunderous applause and tossed flowers and stuffed animals onto the ice. "Shimatta," he muttered in chagrin, and snatched a bouquet of yellow roses from the fingers of a girl behind him. Beautiful, yet fiery and untamed, just like Duo, he thought. The girl screamed and clawed at his back; he shoved her away. As Duo bent down to retrieve the band that had fallen from his hair, Heero tossed the roses onto the ice, hoping that this of all times his aim would be flawless, the one time it really mattered. (2)

The roses slid to a stop a few inches from Duo's skates. Duo looked up reflexively, and through the Plexiglas met the striking cobalt blue eyes of a young man he could only describe as gorgeous. For the first time in many years, Duo felt unsure of his balance on the ice. The roses forgotten, he skated toward Heero with a rakish smile and slipped the elastic band into his hand between panes, then turned and skated away.

A nearby man grinned at Heero knowingly as Heero fingered the narrow band in disbelief. "Omae wo korosu," Heero hissed. The man looked away. Heero plowed through the crowd, upsetting the man with the self-satisfied smile and the bawling girl as well as several others. He made his way slowly but steadily toward the Duo and his coach as the skater's scores were announced.

The scores weren't half bad, but not as good as Heero felt they should have been; they'd placed Duo squarely in second place. Duo, surrounded by cameramen, however, was in a jovial mood. Since there was only one skater left, he could not place lower than third.

As Heero reached the roped partition, a woman in an elf costume stopped him. "I'm afraid I can't let you pass, sir," she informed him politely. Duo interrupted her explanation. "It's alright, he's with me," he said with a slow wink. A faint flush rode to her pale cheeks. "As you wish, Mr. Maxwell. I didn't know." Heero stepped over the partition after the woman left.

"Heero Yuy. It's a pleasure," he said when he finally found his voice, the last word causing him to shiver a bit. "Duo Maxwell. The pleasure is mine." Duo grasped Heero's outstretched hand to shake it, but both recoiled slightly from the sudden shock of contact. Heero laughed a little, the first time he had done so in quite a while, and followed Duo down a long hallway into a small room, stopping while Duo spoke with his coach.

-

-

Wufei watched the boy he knew to be Heero Yuy observe the skater in wanton longing from the other side of the rink. Duo, tonchiki, that's not figure skating, that's exotic dancing. You're here to give Heero the data chip, not get him in bed! In relief, he saw Duo pass something to Heero, then shook his head in annoyance. Passing top secret information on national television, indeed… I hope that bakayarou realizes what he'd doing. (3)

Unbeknownest to either of them, Relena, too, saw the exchange from her television at home. For a moment she couldn't place the expression on Heero's face, rejecting the explanation that Heero had a fever. Relena suddenly had an overwhelming urge to take a knife to the skater's long hair. How can his hair be so long? Relena thought to herself. It's longer than MY hair. It's longer than even my brother's hair. I can't take it any more. Relena turned off her television and headed to her hair stylists' to get an extension. (4)

-

~

Heero took in his surroundings - nearly bare save a gym bag on the floor, an old, dusty chair, and several folding chairs leaned against the wall. "Not much, is it? Here, have a seat." Duo gestured toward the plush chair, and took a folding chair for himself.

"I'd like to tell you how much I enjoyed your program, Mr. Maxwell." Unable to think of something to say, Heero felt ridiculous. Duo stared at the uneasy young man and resisted the impulse to burst out laughing. "More than you should have, it seems," he quipped as he ran his fingers along Heero's collarbone. "And please. Call me Duo." He heard Heero inhale sharply and smirked; more than anything, he loved to reduce these strong silent types as Heero obviously was to whimpering puddles of need.

Heero glanced at his watch nervously, shocked to find that it was nearly eight and remembering that he had only paid for an hour of parking. Duo looked at him with a concerned expression until Heero explained his predicament.

"You can spend the night at my place, if you'd like," he replied in a sultry voice. "We'll get your car back tomorrow."

-

-

He'd taken other men home, but this was different. Never had he felt so much raw anticipation; nothing before had been quite the same. It had always been one night stands - more than once had he woken beside a man whose name he either did not recall or did not bother to remember.

It had been raining outside, and by the time they reached their destination, they were soaked, Duo moreso than Heero. Duo's executive suite was on the twenty-first floor of a nearby Hilton hotel. "Welcome to my home," Duo said. "Well, at least for the next two days."

French double doors led into a luxurious suite, complete with a piano and a lavishly decorated Christmas tree. Heero took off his dripping leather coat and laid it over the back of a chair beside the bed, shivering. Duo turned up the thermostat, and the room warmed to a comfortable temperature, perhaps a bit warmer than necessary. He stripped off his soggy black jacket and threw it on top of Heero's coat, revealing a nearly transparent red silk shirt beneath.

"Would you like something to drink?" he offered. Heero nodded slowly. "Alright… what would you like?"

"You."

His lips were crushed in a clumsy kiss, all passion and no finesse. He's new at this game, I suppose. Well, all the more fun in it for me, Duo thought, and smiled to himself. But look at those eyes, that body… no way he could be untouched!

"First kiss, huh?" he asked teasingly. Heero turned away as the ghost of a smile crossed his lips, a slight flush gracing his cheeks. And yet… he looks as if he's never even touched himself… "Would you like me to show you how it's done?" Heero nodded slowly again, and whispered, "Onegai." Duo backed Heero toward a partition wall and brushed his lips with his own, then pressed them to his, teasing the whorl at the center of his upper lip with his tongue. Heero pulled away, leaving Duo perplexed. "…Heero?"

Grasp it, sense it-

Tremulous and tender...

Turn your face away

From the garish light of day,

Turn your thoughts away

From cold, unfeeling light

And listen to

The music of the night...

Suddenly finding their positions reversed, Duo felt himself forced against the wall, staring straight into Heero's intense Prussian blue eyes. Heero's fingers tangled themselves into the skater's damp unbraided hair to angle his mouth for another kiss. Duo moaned softly as Heero's lips slanted perfectly across his and ravaged his mouth and his mind.

Duo stared accusingly, still breathless, his pants seeming several sizes smaller than it had been two hours ago. "That was not your first kiss." Heero smirked. "Never said it was," he gasped, and claimed the violet-eyed boy's mouth again. Duo lowered his lids lazily as he relinquished his dominance. Heero's tongue slid deliciously over his, intoxicating, like fine wine. He whimpered as Heero neglected his lips, only to find his agile fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt, kissing each inch of skin as it was exposed. Heero ran his hands over the smooth expanse of skin, stopping to chafe the nipples that pebbled under his gaze.

Duo's body arched into the wall against his will, eagerly awaiting Heero's touch. His shirt slipped from his shoulders, pooling at his feet. After a few moments, Duo opened his eyes. Heero stood before the Christmas tree, his back to Duo; the tree rustled slightly. Curious, Duo took a few tentative steps forward as quietly as he could, but stumbled over the bedside rug. Heero turned around slowly, with a mischievous glint in his intense blue eyes, deepened to nearly black in lust.

Close your eyes

And surrender to your darkest dreams!

Purge your thoughts of the life

You knew before!

Close your eyes,

Let your spirit start to soar!

And you'll live

As you've never lived before...

He had removed a candy cane from the tree and now unwrapped it slowly as his eyes met Duo's and locked. He brought the long end to his mouth and tasted it, then licked his lips suggestively; shivers ran up Duo's spine. His eyes widened as Heero drew the length of the peppermint stick into his throat, pulled it out, and repeated the evocative motion. Duo rubbed himself through his pants in an attempt to reduce the pressure, following Heero's eyes with his own. Heero removed his hand and replaced it with his own, peeling away the tight black pants that had been part of Duo's skating costume in the process.

"Mmm… Heero…" Duo gasped, his breath ragged as Heero stroked him through his black silk boxers. He felt oddly vulnerable, wearing next to nothing while Heero remained fully clothed, but he decided he liked the feeling. He sank heavily into his down comforter; he didn't know whether he could stay standing. Heero lifted Duo's legs and laid him flat on the bed, then took a moment to admire the boy before him.

Softly, deftly,

Music shall surround you...

Feel it, hear it,

Closing in around you...

Open up your mind,

Let your fantasies unwind,

In this darkness which You know you cannot fight,

The darkness of

Eyes half-lidded, lips slightly swollen and gently parted, and head thrown back, he looked amazing. Heero wanted to remember this image forever, this lover who he felt he had known all his life and yet was but a total stranger 2 hours before. He stripped, leaving his clothes in a heap at the foot of the bed. Kneeling between Duo's legs, he slipped his finger under the waistband of the boxers and slid them off. He stopped, noticing something stitched on the black silk.

The music of the night...

Let your mind start a journey

Through a strange, new world!

Leave all thoughts

Of the world you knew before!

Let your soul take you

Where you long to be!

Only then can you belong to me...

Incredulously, he read the kanji character. "Shinigami," he whispered. Duo's eyes flew open in revelation as he heard the name in time to see himself disappearing into Heero's mouth. It was the most amazing sensation - both the immense heat of Heero's mouth and the cool, tingling caused by the peppermint at once. He moaned loudly, clenching the soft comforter beneath his hands. All forgotten save the torment of Heero's unrelenting lips and tongue, Duo climaxed in a matter of seconds. (5)

Heero savored the metallic taste of Duo's seed for a moment and spit it into his cupped hand. He applied some of it to his aching erection and the remainder to Duo's entrance, pulling the still recovering boy's hips into his lap. Duo looked up into Heero's eyes, encouraging him to go on. Is this really the Perfect Soldier before me? He wondered as he lifted his legs and placed them over Heero's shoulders. But it must be… Only he knows me as the god of death. To all else I am either Duo or Deathscythe Hell.

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!

Touch me, trust me,

Savour each sensation!

Let the dream begin,

Let your darkest side give in

To the power of

The music that I write

The power of

The music of the night...

Heero groaned softly at Duo's impossible heat and tightness. He sank slowly until he was fully seated, then began to move slowly. Is this what dying is like? He thought faintly as Duo arched up to meet him, hard already. He thrust down again, hitting the spot that turned his spine to molten lava and made him cry out. Neither could tell where one body began and another ended as they fell into the age-old dance more ancient than time itself. Nearing completion, Heero reached down between them and stroked Duo in time with his thrusts. Duo emitted a strangled cry as he found release, coating their stomachs as well as the skirt of the girl in the painting at the head of Duo's bed. Heero slammed into him a final time as he tightened around him and emptied himself into the exquisite heat. (6)

After what seemed like an eternity, Heero reached toward the nightstand and turned out the lights. He covered the already slumbering form beside him and slipped between the sheets, inhaling the cloying vanilla-cinnamon scent of Duo's hair and contentedly drifted off.

-

Wufei trudged along the sidewalk, soaked to the skin. He cursed at himself for distrusting in the other agents' ability to complete a task by themselves; if he hadn't, he wouldn't be have been where he was. As of now, he had missed the last bus, and it looked as if he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. That is, if he wanted to wake up the next morning. He barely noticed the rag someone held over his nose and mouth.

Wufei woke and found himself tied to a chair in a dim chamber. He blinked to clear the effects of the sedative he now recognized as phenobarbitol. A girl, perhaps three or four years younger than he stared back at him. "I was wondering when you'd come to. hehe. Hi. I'm Tracy," she chirped. "And I'd like you to meet my pet, Vegeta." She gestured toward the man at the end of the chain she held. "You're my newest pet, Chang Wufei. Don't you feel lucky?"

Wufei's retorts were muffled behind a strip of duct tape while Tracy walked slowly around him. "I've always wondered why you tie your hair so tightly, `Fei…" she drawled. "If I cut this tie will it become an afro? Is that why you tie your hair that way? To save your dignity?" A keen blade sliced the narrow band easily, leaving Wufei's hair as it was, each hair stiff and in place. "Oh dear, I do believe you've strangled your hair, Wufei." Tracy giggled maniacally. "Injustice," Wufei muttered from behind the tape.

"What was that?" Tracy tugged gently on Vegeta's chain. "I'm sure my pet Vegeta here would be more than willing to do you justice." Vegeta leered at him lewdly. "Although it seems that he'd prefer to just do you right about now." Tracy giggled again. "And since he's been so well behaved, I think he deserves a reward, don't you think?"

"Vegeta," she said with an amused smile. "He's all yours. Just make sure he can walk tomorrow." Tracy yawned and leaned back in her recliner to watch.

-

Heero woke at the crack of dawn, spooned against Duo, their limbs entangled. The scent of spent passion still hung in the air as he recalled the events of the previous night, and his breathing grew erratic. Duo, who had awakened silently behind him, reached around to stroke Heero, then captured his wrists with his other hand and held them overhead as he thrust between Heero's clenched thighs. Each boy stifled the other's cries with a kiss as they climaxed.

It seemed an eternity as they lay together, listening to their breathing become even again. At long last, Duo broke the silence.

"You think it's just the sex?" Duo asked softly, glancing at the girl in the painting and her ruined skirt.

Heero gazed at the violet-eyed boy tenderly and held him close, whispering in his ear, "No… I don't know what is is, yet… we'll just have to wait and see."

With this, both boys drifted off again. (7)

-

(1) yay for alliteration.

(2) shimatta means "damn it"

(3) konchiki means "numbskull", only males use this term. bakayarou - idiot

(4) okay, I know she isn't really that shallow, but I'm making a point here

(5) I was eating a candy cane when I got this idea, can you tell?

(6) I couldn't resist the fluffiness

(7) see #6, yea and I forgot what this technique was called…

Note: No one was harmed in the production of this fanfic… except for maybe the little girl who lost her bouquet, or Wufei, who is still recovering from Vegeta's attentions. (Hey, Wufei rhymes with bouquet!) In addition to this, the forgotten data disc contained nothing but an old copy of Relena's grandmother's top secret chocolate chip cookie recipe.

Author's Note:

After reading this you should probably be able to tell that I'm a little bit better at writing het lemons than yaoi ones…hehe… If you haven't noticed yet (or if you haven't read enough yaoi, which I doubt) my lemon is written a little bit differently from most writers'… and besides, I'm the only person I know who finds the lyrics to Music of the Night from Phantom of the Opera erotic. ^^; I don't think I'll ever look at that musical the same way again…

Firstly, I used TOO many euphemisms. I swear I have NEVER, EVER used so many euphemisms in any other fanfic. I think it's the thought that someone I know will be reading this that caused it. Anyways, there are so many euphemisms that even Connie would understand it. Er… I take that back… if I made the characters talk dirty Connie wouldn't understand a word of it. ^^

I suppose the fic doesn't flow impeccably either; it's been a while since I've written any fanfiction at all. Besides, I'm really torn between angsty fluffiness (abuse, deathfic, betrayal, etc.) and hentai PWPs (leather, bondage, S/M, etc.) and I couldn't quite decide what to do with this fic.

Secondly, even though I said you could post this on FF.net, I absent-mindedly forgot about the NC-17 ban.

Anyways… Merry Christmas, Tracy. \(^^)/

O yea… another thing…

This means you'll let me read that PWP that you've been supposedly "editing", right?

Don't answer that, it was a rhetorical question.