Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Unity Arc 01: The Rush ❯ The Thrill ( Chapter 3 )

Ackh: Heero's point of view? I'm all over it.

 

Thank you and Wolfwing for the reviews. *hugs* Shoot your ideas/concerns my way and I'll do my best to cater… I like catering.

 

 

--//--

 

 

The Thrill

 

 

>> Status: Lucid. Damage: Assessing…

 

Heero suppressed a groan and any other involuntary twinges of muscle that could possibly indicate his return to consciousness. It fucking hurt, though. He was strung up against a wall, stone of some kind, with metal that wasn't simple steel, probably Gundanium, those Oz bastards. His ankles were restrained against the wall as well. Peachy.

 

>> Assessing…

 

The room was small, three by five square, eight to ten feet high. He couldn't tell without looking at it. The nearly-silent hum of electronics told him he was being watched, no big surprise, there. The lack of another body in the room was a bit more worrisome. They didn't have someone here to start torturing him as soon as he woke up? Sloppy…

 

>> Assessment complete. Damage: 39 percent, concussed, third rib on the right side broken; mobility compromised 5 percent. Knife wound in upper left thigh, negligible. Bloodloss, minimal.

 

Heero squinted first and then opened his eyes to pale darkness. Ten feet, he decided on the ceiling and noticed no windows, only a single door entrance and no obvious means of observation other than the four corner cameras. He could hear no voices. Either the room was soundproofed extremely well, or there was no one outside. Very sloppy.

 

The pilot strained at his shackles and predictably got nowhere. Definitely not simple steel, then.

 

The door hissed open.

 

>> Identify: Pilot O2, Analyze threat: Assessing…

 

“Hey, Hee-chan. I thought I'd find you in here. Can't tell you how much of a guard they've got on you… had on you—“ He flashed a grin, “'s all taken care of.”

 

>> Assessment complete: Pilot 02, no threat

 

“Hn.”

 

“Eloquent as always…” Duo muttered and fingered his lock picks. He padded closer, licking his lips. “You look good up there, Heero… restrained.”

 

>> Proximity… no threat.

 

“Either shoot me or let me down.”

 

“Now, now… not so fast. I killed a lot of people to get down here. I'm not in such a hurry to rush on back up.” Duo flicked his knife out with an exaggerated thoughtful expression.

 

>> Proximity… mild threat. Solution: Disarm 02

 

Heero managed to keep from shifting. “Don't toy with me, Oh two—“

 

“I think I will,” Shinigami grinned and stepped closer, dragging the blade absently across Heero's faded tank-top. “I saw you on the moniters,” He whispered and shoved his hips against Heero's thigh—

 

>> Proximity: Threat! Unacceptable! Primary Solution: Disarm 02. Impediment: Restraints. Solution: Assessing…

 

--he was hard beneath the flat black of the priest's pants, “And I had to kill a lot of people… to give us some time.”

 

>> Assessing…

 

“So I think I'll use it to my advantage…” The shirt fell away, the spandex pants followed. Cool air brushed over Heero's skin. That was the third set of clothes Duo had shredded. The man was going to pay for that.

 

>> Assessment complete: No solution. Unacceptable! Assessing…

 

The blade was cold on Heero's collarbone. He stared blandly at Duo's wide violet eyes and didn't shiver. It migrated down his chest, still cold.

 

“Hmm, yanno this isn't nearly so much fun when you're not enjoying it, Hee-chan.” The next words were low next to his ear. “I think you need to relax… let it all go for a minute. We'll be out of here soon.” He trailed his fingers over Heero's stomach, light feather-touches.

 

>> No solution. Unacceptable! Reevaluate Primary Solution: Assessing…

 

“Ah. You're thinking much too hard.” Duo returned the knife to the spring against his wrist and tapped his lips with a finger, thinking. Heero jerked against the restraints when the pilot bent and swiped his tongue over the lingering red lines of his name. The cuts were nearly healed; Heero still wasn't sure what he thought about them.

 

>> ?!? Does not compute. No response = disarmament of 02? Does not compute! Reevaluate!

 

“That's better…” Duo purred, “I'm not one of your dull Oz soldiers, Heero. I don't want to kill you…”

 

Heero tensed. Duo leaned his weight forward, pressing the other man slightly into the wall behind him; hands firm on either side. He stretched forward and kissed Heero lightly, just a brush of lips and little more.

 

>> Evaluation complete: Hostile response = armament of 02, no response = disarmament of 02, … favorable response = ?? Assessing…

 

The Perfect Soldier allowed himself to return the kiss, only the most minute tilt of his head to give away the action. Duo responded instantly, pressing himself closer, begging entrance to his mouth with a swipe of his tongue.

 

>> Assessing…

 

He opened and Duo plunged, licking along teeth and tongue with a satisfied groan waiting in the back of his throat that Heero swallowed with rising urgency. He canted his hips toward Duo in a jerky demand. Heero bit hard at the pilot's lip when the need wasn't met.

 

>> Assessing…

 

The Perfect Soldier watched Duo's eyes loose their focus for a brief instant, then snap back into awareness with a sinister grin. Duo raked his fingers across the torso before him and ran his nails up Heero's erection. The Wing pilot's breath hitched and Duo grinned harder, a sharp glint in the violet eyes that Heero was wary of.

 

>> Assess-- … !!

 

Duo spun out of the room, his braid smacking Heero across the face in his haste. Out the door and out of sight he laughed maniacally. Suddenly Heero was falling. He caught himself on one knee and took off after the baka. Duo was fast, but Heero was efficient. The two of them raced through the complex compound around blind corners with no regard for the soldiers who once populated it. Duo skipped over bodies as if they were daises, easily sidestepping their respective puddles of blood

 

Heero trusted in the idiot's word. He had taken out the enemy—all of the enemy—otherwise he wouldn't have started this deadly game. Heero rounded a corner and was confronted with an empty hallway with a series of doors. He paused and suddenly smiled.

 

It was not friendly.

 

>> Assessment complete: Favorable response = ideal training simulation. Acceptable.

 

Hunting Duo wasn't at all like taking out an Oz base. Cookie cutter soldiers did not provide a challenge in either stealth or strength. Their sheer numbers weren't even enough against the Gundams themselves and no realm of husbandry could stop the pilots. They were equally deadly below the water as they were in the air, on the ground, or in space. They were born for free-fall, they were trained for earth—but they would loose that over prepared edge unless something could push the limit, test the boundary and toe the line. Heero had considered the Deathcythe pilot a possible candidate for testing such limits… he hadn't realized the man was just as desperate for a challenge.

 

Heero stripped the pants off the closest body of a soldier and rolled the legs to fit. He found the deceased man's gun as well, and then eased himself on silent feet into the hall, listening intently. The quiet hum of the air filter drowned out any of the below-hearing signs Duo might let slip; Heero didn't place much faith in catching the pilot that way.

 

The lights flickered, a half-dimming blink that most people wouldn't have even noticed. It stood out to Heero like a flashing neon sign reading `showgirls here.' He passed several doors without a thought and paused outside one on the left that looked exactly the same as all the others. There was no sound from within. Heero made no sound from without. The lights flicked again, then blinked off completely, plunging him into pitch darkness.

 

Heero twisted the knob and slipped inside the room faster than Duo could stand from his nest of wires and hide. He pointed the standard issue, squaring them off with only a vague shadow-shape between them. His senses told him it was desk.

 

The sound of a spring indicated his opponent was now armed (again) and he licked his lips. The immediate situation didn't lend itself to passionate kissing—the only sure-fire way he had of disarming Duo… although, the first time they'd done this he had initiated it.

 

The Perfect Soldier carefully recocked the gun in his hand and set it deliberately on the edge of the desk in front of him.

 

>> Unacceptable!!

 

He couldn't pull his fingers away from the weapon, he was in an enemy base, deeper than he had been in the cell. Heero tried to uncurl his fingers from the grip but they refused to move.

 

>> THREAT!!

 

Duo was a blur in the darkness and took care of the problem. The knife flashed in an errant ray of light. Heero pointed the gun but his arm was blocked and yanked forward. He lunged his knee up, was blocked. Heero tried to break them apart but Duo was having none of it. The lithe pilot pressed his advantage with a kick at Heero's knee: blocked. The move was a feint.

 

>> !!

 

Duo slashed the knife into Heero's guard and pressed it against his neck.

 

>> …

 

They paused.

 

“Now what” Heero was surprised to find the words pop out of his mouth, not Duo's. They sounded less than steady.

 

The knife moved just slightly digging enough to draw blood down the blade; “Now you put the gun down.” Duo sounded a little breathless; perhaps he was surprised at how quickly Heero had found him. That would teach the pilot to fuck with the lights so early in the game. They had been on enough missions together; Duo always killed the lights. Maybe he'd amend his predictability in the future.

 

>> …

 

Heero pushed the gun onto the tabletop and Duo arched forward in a movement so controlled Heero could sense every inch before it was engulfed in heat. He knew the other pilot was hard moments before their bodies connected; knew because he was in the same state—an adrenaline high that only spiked with their dash deeper into the base.

 

>> …

 

The knife moved from his throat because Duo was busy kissing him instead. Heero gripped the man's head and controlled it fiercely, bending Duo into his body. The pilot took a step back and yanked Heero to the side in the same movement. He slammed his palms on the desk, before he could push off Duo was there against his back, leaning him into the wood. His shoulder was nipped and he felt a tug on the trousers he'd stolen.

 

“You and your fucking pants…” Duo breathed as he cut away at the fabric, too impatient to do it neatly. He yanked them down to Heero's ankles and the soldier kicked them away. Heero's chest met the desk when Duo shoved him unexpectedly downward. “You couldn't stand to be naked in enemy territory for two damned minutes, could you?” his rough voice taunted.

 

Heero tensed against the hand but the `scythe pilot had more leverage and kicked his legs wide. Fingers and cold gel probed. Heero jerked backward and took a swing at the man behind him. “Where--?”

 

Duo grabbed his left hand and wrenched it backward, forcing him to catch himself against the desk or eat it. “Planned it.” He caught himself and grunted when Duo's finger entered him in the same moment.

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Working on it.” Duo grinned.

 

It was… gentle? No, that was the wrong word for the relentless pursuit of pleasure. More like… filling. It was an overtaking. An efficient perimeter search and destroy. The questing finger stabbed erroneously at Heero's prostrate and his knee slammed into the desk. Duo chuckled in his ear, a low husky sound, “Found it.”

 

That spot was summarily placed under a stunning barrage that left Heero gasping for breath. When the fireworks of white receded from his mind he found his right leg up on the desk, his ass spread wantonly, and Duo with three fingers wide. He let his head fall to the wood with a soft thunk and sucked air during the reprieve.

 

It was unsurprisingly short. Duo's cock was long and Heero felt every inch of it for an eternity; filling, splitting, completing him. His heart palpated; a completely foreign sensation that made him gasp and tense. Duo hissed at his back and there were suddenly a very warm arm around his chest, gripping him close. They remained like that for a moment, just breathing, supporting one another.

 

When Duo pulled back it was torturously slow and the glide back in was punctuated with a cant of their hips that stabbed at Heero's prostate. He arched back. Duo bit down on his shoulder, the fleshy muscle beneath twitched. Heero tossed his free hand back and gripped Duo's hair, completing the complex knot of their bodies. With one arm trapped behind him and a leg up on the desk, Heero had little leverage for movement and Duo was persistently slow.

 

Out… In… They surged together. Heero let out a breathy moan that encouraged Duo faster—out, in—against the desk of a former Oz soldier in the depths of their own base—out, in—completely uncoerced and utterly of their own volition—out, in—it felt deliciously like staking a claim. They had concurred the enemy and earned the right to decorate the castle how they chose.

 

Duo's hand snaked downward and tugged at Heero's erection in a random series of strokes. The braided pilot was in no shape to even out the contact, as focused as he was on other things. Heero strained uselessly, there was nowhere for him to move to. “Harder.” He finally growled, half delirious with pleasure he could sense just there out of reach. “Damnit, Duo—“

 

“Oh, god…” The words were barely a whisper against Heero's back. “Say it again.” Duo surged forward with a roll of his hips.

 

“Harder—“

 

“No, you ass,” He pulled out sharply and caused a sharp sting of loss to shoot through the Perfect Soldier. “Say my name…”

 

“Duo…” The word was strained. Heero wanted that full feeling back, wanted it so desperately he would've done anything in that moment to have it.

 

Surge. “Again. Say it again.”

 

They arched, “Duo.”

 

“Again.”

 

“Duo!”

 

Heero gripped a fistful of red hair and shouted when Duo bit down again, hard. He came in a pulse that washed through him, crashed, and rose again before he could take a breath. Duo's fingers urged him higher in the spiral and he was certain this time he said something but it didn't matter because he was out of air and that only hurtled him over the edge with more force than Wing's beam rifle.

 

He distantly recognized Duo's shaking climax and slumped forward on the desk, bracing himself with both hands. Duo draped himself forward, breathing hard, and slid his hands over Heero's interlocking their fingers. Heero's thigh was starting to cramp on the desk but he ignored it and focused on steadying his heartbeat.

 

>> …

 

He collected himself slowly, muscles tensing as the fog receded. Duo noticed and gripped Heero's hands against the desk. For a moment, the pilot thought he'd have to fight his way free but Duo surprised him. The warmth slid away smoothly, as did the pervasive sensation of being complete. He slipped his leg off the desk and covered a wince from the screaming muscles, but otherwise didn't move.

 

>> …

 

He allowed Duo to dress, reset his knife, take the firearm from the edge of the table… His breathing steadied. Duo tossed the cut pants onto the desk and Heero focused on them absently. They weren't as destroyed as he'd thought. Passable.

 

His thoughts were sluggish, he knew this and couldn't bring himself to snap out of it. There was no danger here anymore—Duo had seen to that an age ago. The pilot was no threat to him, not a mortal threat anyway—

 

“Heero?”

 

The tone held very little concern in it but those violet eyes were wide and the soft hand along his shoulder demanded his attention. The Perfect Soldier slowly moved his arm toward Duo and enfolded the pilot in a tight embrace. He put his face in Duo's neck and just breathed.

 

“Ah… cuddler.” Duo said, as if this meant something profound. He returned the embrace just as strongly, full body contact that was more satisfying than Heero could remember if he tried.

 

>> …

 

“Hn.”