Kracken
Disclaimer:I don't own them and I don't make any money off of them.
Warning:Male/Male sex, graphic, language, violence, attempted NCS
Soldier Boys
Sequel to Sacrifices
Love and Rockets
"So," Duo shifted uncomfortably on the bed and shot a sideways look at Heero's tense face. "What do you want?" he asked Heero with a blush. "I mean, I know, but... " He stood in frustration and ran a hand through his bangs. He kept his back to Heero and plunged on, "What I'm trying to ask is... we're friends, right? Is that what this is? We like- We like guys... we're friends... we're stuck here together... we're young.... I guess... I guess it's only natural that we..."
"It's more than sex," Heero replied and it seemed hard for him to admit that.
Duo turned, wide eyed.
Heero met his eyes and said firmly. "I don't want to just have... sex with you."
Duo let out a long sigh of relief. "That's good, 'cuz, I don't think I'm ready for that... yet." He caressed the knife strapped to his arm. "You guys seem to have it all figured out all ready. Maybe I'm just a late bloomer, or I've just been so busy trying to survive, trying to fight this war, but-"
"You don't have any... experience?" Heero asked carefully.
Duo shook his head, thoroughly embarrassed now. "You?"
Heero made a small shrug.
Duo stared and then prompted. "Does that mean yes?"
"It means...," Heero fumbled for words.
Duo winced. "If you're going to tell me it was part of your training or something like that..."
"No," Heero replied quickly, shocked at the idea, and then looked uncertain. "There were two young soldiers who were friendly towards me during that time. It was very simple. Just sex. Nothing... involved or... " He thought about it and then finished, "penetrating."
Duo bit his lip and then crossed his arms over his chest, holding himself hard. "God! Did you just say that? How old were you? Shit!" He paced the room, thinking about it. "That's just it, you see? We're young. We shouldn't be thinking about this stuff. I don't really want to." He looked at Heero to see how he was taking that and saw the pained expression on Heero's face. Duo was surprised at how that look of rejection made him ache in response. He didn't want to cause Heero pain. He couldn't be less than honest when confronted by it.
"I don't want to think about it," Duo continued, sitting on the
bed again and facing Heero, "but I have to. When-When we were in the bathroom,
fighting over the shower, I felt something really strong when we were together.
I don't think I can pretend that didn't happen. I don't think I can not... explore
that feeling some more. " He smiled nervously. "I guess you lit my
rocket and it's going to burn until it launches."
He blushed deep red at his own euphemism, but it was the truth and he couldn't
deny it.
Heero shivered, a quivering across his shoulders, and his eyes turned incredibly
intense. "Are you saying that you want to... have sex?"
Duo tried to relax the death grip he had on his own body. He lowered his arms and clasped his hands in his lap hard as he replied, "I know I don't want it to be about sex either. I want your friendship more than anything and I don't want that kind of thing to mess that up."
"What should we do then?" Heero wondered, his look of pain replaced by a glimmer of hope now.
"Give it time," Duo replied. "Give me time. My body wants things now, kind of, but I think I can handle that."
Heero nodded. "I can as well."
"Good. So, let's just forget it and concentrate on being best buds, okay?" Duo said, brightening as the pressure was suddenly taken away.
Heero nodded again and then said, uncertainly, "Was I wrong to kiss you?"
Duo blushed down to his toes. "I thought it would be weird, something guys and girls do and two guys doing it instead, but... no, you weren't wrong. I told you, I liked it."
Heero hesitated and then asked very quietly. "May I..."
Duo blinked, wondering if he were hot enough to fry an egg on his skin yet. The though of Heero's lips against his own again, that warm, searching mouth, that electric kiss... When Duo felt a definite stirring, he suddenly had a good reason to keep his hands clasped in his lap. "Let's not," he said and then quickly, reassuring Heero when that pained look began to reemerge, "It's just that I don't think that I have a whole lot of control right now and I don't want things... going too far... all right?"
Heero looked disappointed, but understanding, maybe assessing his own control and finding it just as lacking. He stood up and said, "Our duty lies with the war and that should be our first priority, but...," he smiled slightly, softening his words, "When duty is done, and there is some time between missions, I think that time is our own to do as we please."
"Hey, my lesson at the mall sunk in, didn't it?" Duo laughed trying to lighten the mood and bring them back to safer ground. "We have to fight this stinking war. We have to kill and maybe die, but nobody has the right to tell us that we can't be human while we're doing it. We can have fun, have friends, and enjoy ourselves once in awhile, and still kick Oz butt." He paused and then said, more quietly and more seriously, " and maybe we can think of something besides dying, too, maybe we can hope....." He swallowed and then plowed on, looking at his toes, "Maybe we can hope for something after this war is all over and done with."
Heero replied, "I didn't hope for any such thing before. I didn't think that there was anything... anyone..." He faltered. "They made me believe I had only one purpose and that afterward... I was expendable... useless."
"What a load of shit!' Duo seethed, nostrils flaring. When Heero nodded,
agreeing, Duo continued, echoing Heero's words, "Follow your emotions,
Heero, and I'll show you just how wrong they were."
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It wasn't suppose to have ended this way, Duo thought, groaning in pain as he
tried not to move. Moving only aggravated the pain and there wasn't any reason
to move anyway.
Quatre's Sandrock had malfunctioned in it's cooling system and Deathscythe had been forced to stand in it's place. After looking over the parameters of the mission again to find an alternative, no one had been happy that Deathscythe had been chosen to accomplish the task. Everyone had seen where Sandrock's special abilities had been needed and necessary.
As if fulfilling everyone's worst case scenarios, Deathscythe had failed to open up the key section of the military base, and suits had overwhelmed it while it was knee deep in wreckage and taking heavy fire. Wu Fei had waded in and had tried to mount a one man defensive, but even he couldn't save Duo when a suit had suicided by throwing itself onto Deathscythe and firing point blank into his cockpit.
Duo had felt something slam hard into his shoulder and chest. A shock of electricity had joined a wall of force from the impact and it had sent him into unconsciousness. The last thing he remembered was a stream of Chinese profanities being shouted through his com link with Wu Fei
Duo didn't want to wake up. He didn't really want to know where he was or what mess his body was in. He had tried very hard not to survive, not to get captured. He remembered frantically trying to warn Wu Fei off as he had reached for the self destruct, but the impact had taken him by surprise before he had been able to carry out his last ditch suicide plan.
Voices began talking over him.
"That has to come out."
"I'm not a micro surgeon. This is too severe for a field medic."
"You'll do as you're ordered!"
"I suppose I must. He's going to bleed to death if we don't."
Footsteps. Clothes brushing against clothes. The clink of metal. Duo tried not
to focus for all he was worth. He felt the prick of an injection and then he
slid back into welcome unconsciousness.
"Wake him up, now. I want answers!"
There was another needle prick and Duo felt adrenalin course through his veins.
He struggled against it.
"This is dangerous, sir. He's very weak from blood loss."
"Doctor, I have a Gundam standing in what remains of what would have been my finest hour. I was about to launch our new suits. I was about to stand shoulder to shoulder with Zechs Marquise and Kushrenada and know what absolute victory felt like. Now my base is half destroyed and my superiors want to know why. The only thing that is going to save my career and my ass is to hand them a Gundam pilot, a Gundam, and some goddam answers on a silver platter. Wake him up!"
"Yes, sir."
Duo felt another shot and the adrenalin kicked his heart again. He wondered, if he continued to play dead, if they would give him yet another dose and accidentally kill him. He thought it was worth a try. The hand that grabbed at his wounded side and squeezed foiled that plan instantly. Duo shrieked and thrashed against his restraints, purple eyes flying wide, and body feeling close to shock.
"Are you done playing, terrorist scum?"
Duo's eyes tracked to that voice and he saw a grizzled, older man in a commander's uniform, leaning over him. The man had a puckered seam for one eye and the other looked so light blue it was almost white. He was scowling fiercely, his broad hand still resting on the worst of Duo's wounds, ready to administer torture again.
"Who sent you?" the man asked. "Are you a mercenary or are you part of an organized group from the colonies? How did you know to attack our base? Who gave you information about the suits?"
Duo grinned. "I heard there was a party and decided to crash, that's all." His voice was hardly recognizable and he figured that he had inhaled a lot of smoke to make it sound like that. He coughed weakly and it sent flaring pain up and down his side.
The blow to the face wasn't unexpected. The commander grabbed him by the chin. Blood was running down from Duo's spilt lip and Duo couldn't muster the strength to keep smiling. "You're going to beg me to listen to the truth," the man said simply and then he cocked back a fist and drove it into Duo's wounded side.
Duo couldn't help crying out, sobbing, and panting as his world became pain. His vision dimmed. Unconsciousness was good, he thought, and he tried to succumb to it for all he was worth.
"Commander!" A voice barked. "What's the meaning of this?"
"Interrogation," the commander responded, but his voice was very unsure.
"We have a damned convention," the voice snarled and then took on a tone of disgust and regret. "He's just a boy! You're torturing a child."
"He's hardly that," the commander responded bitterly. "He's old enough to have killed my men and destroyed our new suits. He's a Gundam pilot, sir. They haven't shown us any mercy. Remember Victoria Base? Why should I worry about hurting him?"
There was a long, cold silence and then, "You are dismissed, commander. We will discuss your lack of ethics at your court marshal."
"But... but, sir!" The commander was shocked and then defiant. "You won't win this damned war by being soft, sir! They'll kill us all if you show them weakness!"
"Escort him to lock up," the cold voice commanded.
There was the sound of feet and shuffling and then silence. That silence was then punctuated by a weary sigh. "Patch him up," The voice commanded. "I want him treated with all the conventions of an Oz prisoner. Anyone else decides to 'interrogate' or enact revenge and I will have his head on a pole outside my office. Is that understood? Inform me when he is stabilized."
"Yes, Lt. Marquise," the doctor stammered.
Duo pried open heavy lids and focused for just a moment to see his savior.
He saw a very tall man, with long, white hair, walking away from him before
he fell into unconsciousness again.
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Someone was touching his hair. Duo hated anyone touching his hair. It meant so much to him, that meter long length. It was a symbol of who he was, who he'd been, and what he'd promised to do.
Duo played dead, but inwardly, he was seething. That hand checked bandages and wounds and Duo felt as if those fingers were delivering pain and searing fire to everything they touched. He involuntarily shrank away and wasn't surprised to find that he was strapped down to the bed.
"Awake?" a voice asked and then it chuckled. "You are hooked up to dozens of monitors, boy. It's useless to pretend."
Duo slitted his eyes open. A man blinked into them. He was short and round with pink cheeks and had a mouth that should have been smiling on a cheerful face like that. Unfortunately, it wasn't smiling. It looked grim and hard.
"Unusual eye color," the man murmured, "Unusual strength. Unusual heeling abilities. I think that someone has been doing genetic tinkering. Not surprising. Those rebels will do anything to anything and anyone to win this war. I wouldn't put it past them to do test tube experiments. Knowing what a Gundam can do to a body, I did wonder how mere boys were able to handle them. The flexibility of youthful bones explains some of it, but not all. It makes sense to genetically create a perfect pilot."
Duo sneered. "Sorry, but you got it all wrong. I'm perfect all on my own. "
"Oh, going to talk, eh?" The man was pleased. When Duo coughed and winced at a sore throat, he offered a container of a bluish liquid. Duo eyed it suspiciously. "It's for the raw throat," the doctor explained. "You inhaled quite a bit of smoke."
Duo turned his head away, frowning.
The man shrugged and began pulling a tube into position. "You'll find that refusal will accomplish nothing," he warned. "I am well prepared to insert your medications into any orifice necessary to ensure compliance."
Duo blanched. "I'll- I'll drink it."
The man nodded. "Good. I didn't think that you were stupid. Pick your battles carefully, boy."
Duo drank the fluid and it did ease his throat. When the man took the remainder away, Duo closed his eyes, determined to pretend that the man wasn't there any longer. He didn't intend to cooperate in any other way.
"Like I said," the doctor repeated, "Pick your battles carefully. I'm not the one who wants information out of you, boy. I'm here just to treat your injuries."
The man positioned and refilled bags of fluid. "You should try and eat
something. Any preference? The pain medication will be making you nauseous,
so I suggest something bland and simple."
Duo refused to talk.
The man sighed. "I'll have a tray sent shortly. Eat or don't eat, but, I warn you again, I will make sure that you do eat with or without your cooperation."
Duo shivered and still said nothing. The man shrugged and then his shoes clicked on the hard floor as he walked out of the room and locked the door behind him.
"Wounded, naked, strapped down, locked in a medical room on an Oz base," Duo muttered under his breath. "Nothing I can't handle."
The door opened again and the one eyed commander stepped inside, holding a gun and the key card to the room.
"Not my day," Duo groaned. "Okay, guess ole' Maxwell is in trouble, right?"
"You ruined my career, what do you think?" the man hissed. "We're getting out of here and, after I exact some revenge, I'm going to turn over what's left of you to the highest bidder. Maybe Oz doesn't appreciate my dedication, but there are other factions who will. I will not rot in a cell. I will not allow foolish, idealistic lieutenants to lose this war for Earth."
Duo sighed. "Can you can the speeches and just do what you came to do? I'm the enemy, remember? I want you to rot in a cell and lose."
Another man came in wheeling a refuse container. Duo winced as the man popped off the lid.
"Don't I get a limousine?" Duo quipped.
The commander rummaged in a nearby cabinet and pulled out an injector and a bottle. "I would rather let you suffer, but I can't have you screaming all the way out of the base." He injected Duo's arm with a fluid from the bottle and Duo felt an instant numbness.
The 'janitor' unstrapped him then from the table while the commander busied himself with the monitors. When he unhooked them from Duo, they kept up a steady readout instead of sounding an alarm.
"Nice work," Duo said with a tongue that barely wanted to move.
The base suddenly rocked with an explosion. The men staggered slightly and exchanged looks.
Duo managed a lopsided grin. "Hear that? I think my friends have come to turn the rest of your base into a grease spot."
The commander scowled. "They won't be able to save you."
Duo shrugged. "They didn't come to save me. They came for the Gundam and to finish the mission."
"That'll help us get out of here," the other man said. "Come on, sir, let's go while we can."
"Do it," the commander agreed and then the 'janitor' was putting Duo's unresponsive body into the container and closing the lid.
Duo was thankful that he couldn't feel anything. Sorry, Heero, he thought. Thinking about a life after the war had been a nice dream while it had lasted.