Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ What's Up Mr. Jones? ❯ POSE ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: P S Y C H E 
Duo Maxwell notices the finer details in people, but where he lives the people are so boring that he'd rather notice a flea than them. However, when an elusive man with beautiful eyes turns up at the hotel that he works at he takes notice. 1x2 - lemons later on in the story. For the other pairings you can wait to find out ^^v
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / Angst | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.11.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 937 | Visits: 720 | Status: Work In Progress
Duo Maxwell notices the finer details in people, but where he lives the people are so boring that he'd rather notice a flea than them. However, when an elusive man with beautiful eyes turns up at the hotel that he works at he takes notice. 1x2 - lemons later on in the story. For the other pairings you can wait to find out ^^v
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / Angst | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.11.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 937 | Visits: 720 | Status: Work In Progress
Author - PSYCHE
Title - What's Up Mr. Jones? 1 / ?
Chapter Title - POSE
Rating - NC-17
Archived at - http://www.fanfiction.net/~psychepain (ff.net is a fuckup and isn't
Pairings - 1x2x1 (mostly 2x1), 2+H, mentions of 2xH, 3+4, 5+OC
Disclaimer - don't look at me like that, I can't craw for shite, so I didn't create GW, nor do I own them. Now piss off.
Warning! - lemons (later on), yaoi, het, Duo POV (is that a warning? ^^') - also, there's no plan for this fic, so it just comes right outta my head, so expect some (read as - great dollops of) weirdness. Ah, bad language too .. >.>;
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The small town that I live in is the dullest place you ever saw. Nothing ever happens - and I know that's already a cliche, but stick with me - okay? I live out in the country, well, almost - it's close enough to be classed as countryside. We have a park, some shops and enough bus stops and buses to get us into the city, but that's it. Every single house looks the same - there's no difference anywhere. It's the same for the people, seriously, they're all identical. Sometmes I think that they're all clones, y'know? Like there's some kind of major conspiracy going on. Or maybe I'm just crazy. But, really, those people have no originallity. Expect me. I'm the one exception to the trade. I'm as far away from them as you can get, and I'm proud of it. I don't want to do the same thing every single day for the rest of my life. I don't want a 9 - 5 job at the local chippy or supermarket. To me, that's like condeming someone to some kind of evil fate. Don't you think? I mean, I notice things about people, and all I ever notice about these people in this little town is that they're boring. But lately I've been noticing someone new.
New people come and go through our town all the time, because people want a break in the countryside that's not quite country, you know? City folk like to say that they take regular breaks in the country, but really all they do is come here and stay in our measley four star hotel. That place has rats, man, and I don't mean the animal kind. The people that go and stay there are users, seriously. They leech off of society and act all high and mighty just because they've got fast cars and fast partners. The only good thing about them is that they never stay for longer than a week, but this one guy's been there for nearly gour weeks now. That's pretty much one month. One month means dedication. Dedication means he's not a rat.
How do I know all this?
Because I notice things. I work at the hotel on weekends as the only room service staff member there. They have this dusty old sign in the window saying that they need more workers there, but no one in their right mind would ever work there - except me, because I need the money. But that guy's always been there, and everytime I go to clean his room he's always there - I don't think he ever goes out. He's always sitting at this rickety old table that the previous visitor in that room complained about so much I had to go in and fix it. When it broke again he left, saying that the hotel was awful and that he'd never stay there again. I told him that we were glad he enjoyed his stay. Yeah, I know, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.
But, what I'm getting at, is that the guy in there now never complains about it. He has this typewriter on that desk and he's always typing away a mile a minute, and every time he presses a key the table rocks. One of the legs is shorter than the rest - only by about a centimeter, but it's enough - y'know? I sussed that he must be some kind of writer, because he's always at that thing. I tried to read his stuff once when I went to clean his room and he was in the bathroom, but I heard him coming back before I got a chance to read any and had to get my ass in motion. I'm not all that good of a reader, but I sure am a good conman. He came out of that bathroom and gave me the evil eye a bit - looked at me like he knew what I'd been up to, but I just stared at him all innocent like and he went back to ignoring me as usual. That's the only time he's ever looked at me, y'know.
Remember how I said I notice things? Well he's got the bluest eyes I ever saw. Blue like the ocean and so pretty. I never thought I'd call a guy pretty before, but he is. Those eyes are beautiful, I swear, and I really wish that I could see them again, but he's not looked at me once since. So I guess I'll just have to do without. There's plenty of pretty girls in that town anyway. The only problem is that they all look the same.
____________________
Thank hide for both the fic title and the chapter title. R&R would be very much appreciated, so get to it~
*PSYCHE*
Title - What's Up Mr. Jones? 1 / ?
Chapter Title - POSE
Rating - NC-17
Archived at - http://www.fanfiction.net/~psychepain (ff.net is a fuckup and isn't
Pairings - 1x2x1 (mostly 2x1), 2+H, mentions of 2xH, 3+4, 5+OC
Disclaimer - don't look at me like that, I can't craw for shite, so I didn't create GW, nor do I own them. Now piss off.
Warning! - lemons (later on), yaoi, het, Duo POV (is that a warning? ^^') - also, there's no plan for this fic, so it just comes right outta my head, so expect some (read as - great dollops of) weirdness. Ah, bad language too .. >.>;
____________________
The small town that I live in is the dullest place you ever saw. Nothing ever happens - and I know that's already a cliche, but stick with me - okay? I live out in the country, well, almost - it's close enough to be classed as countryside. We have a park, some shops and enough bus stops and buses to get us into the city, but that's it. Every single house looks the same - there's no difference anywhere. It's the same for the people, seriously, they're all identical. Sometmes I think that they're all clones, y'know? Like there's some kind of major conspiracy going on. Or maybe I'm just crazy. But, really, those people have no originallity. Expect me. I'm the one exception to the trade. I'm as far away from them as you can get, and I'm proud of it. I don't want to do the same thing every single day for the rest of my life. I don't want a 9 - 5 job at the local chippy or supermarket. To me, that's like condeming someone to some kind of evil fate. Don't you think? I mean, I notice things about people, and all I ever notice about these people in this little town is that they're boring. But lately I've been noticing someone new.
New people come and go through our town all the time, because people want a break in the countryside that's not quite country, you know? City folk like to say that they take regular breaks in the country, but really all they do is come here and stay in our measley four star hotel. That place has rats, man, and I don't mean the animal kind. The people that go and stay there are users, seriously. They leech off of society and act all high and mighty just because they've got fast cars and fast partners. The only good thing about them is that they never stay for longer than a week, but this one guy's been there for nearly gour weeks now. That's pretty much one month. One month means dedication. Dedication means he's not a rat.
How do I know all this?
Because I notice things. I work at the hotel on weekends as the only room service staff member there. They have this dusty old sign in the window saying that they need more workers there, but no one in their right mind would ever work there - except me, because I need the money. But that guy's always been there, and everytime I go to clean his room he's always there - I don't think he ever goes out. He's always sitting at this rickety old table that the previous visitor in that room complained about so much I had to go in and fix it. When it broke again he left, saying that the hotel was awful and that he'd never stay there again. I told him that we were glad he enjoyed his stay. Yeah, I know, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.
But, what I'm getting at, is that the guy in there now never complains about it. He has this typewriter on that desk and he's always typing away a mile a minute, and every time he presses a key the table rocks. One of the legs is shorter than the rest - only by about a centimeter, but it's enough - y'know? I sussed that he must be some kind of writer, because he's always at that thing. I tried to read his stuff once when I went to clean his room and he was in the bathroom, but I heard him coming back before I got a chance to read any and had to get my ass in motion. I'm not all that good of a reader, but I sure am a good conman. He came out of that bathroom and gave me the evil eye a bit - looked at me like he knew what I'd been up to, but I just stared at him all innocent like and he went back to ignoring me as usual. That's the only time he's ever looked at me, y'know.
Remember how I said I notice things? Well he's got the bluest eyes I ever saw. Blue like the ocean and so pretty. I never thought I'd call a guy pretty before, but he is. Those eyes are beautiful, I swear, and I really wish that I could see them again, but he's not looked at me once since. So I guess I'll just have to do without. There's plenty of pretty girls in that town anyway. The only problem is that they all look the same.
____________________
Thank hide for both the fic title and the chapter title. R&R would be very much appreciated, so get to it~
*PSYCHE*