Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make any money off of this.
Warning: Guys having sex with guys, maybe this time. Language. Graphic. Violence. Bad, bad Heero... I mean, really bad... *sniffles* Poor Duo.
"I'm not going to help you, if you don't help yourself," Quatre Winner said as he handed Duo a cup of tea and settled in the posh chair opposite him. With an ornate, cheery wood table and a tea service between them, doilies under scones, and the flash of very expensive tableware, Duo felt very out of place.
Duo sipped at his tea and hated it. He wanted coffee, but he wasn't going to make any demands when he was at such a disadvantage. "What are you saying, Q-man?"
Quatre sipped at his tea and studied Duo over the rim. He put his cup down and turned it around and around in his hands nervously. "Heero told me you had been stealing, that you had been acting very unstable."
Duo scowled and shoved aside his tea. He started to get up. "I see, that bastard already called and told you not to help me. Why doesn't he keep his fucking-"
"Duo!" Quatre barked.
Duo stopped speaking. It always surprised him when Quatre dropped his innocent boy routine. The blonde Arabian was a shrewd business man and a politician. He wasn't an innocent or a fool. He knew when he was being played for a soft touch. Duo settled back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest sullenly.
"I'm not going to throw money at your problems," Quatre informed him sternly. "That won't make them go away. You need therapy, Duo. I'll make appointments with some fine doctors and they'll help you to adjust to society. With some medication, and some positive mental therapies, you'll soon be able to live a normal life."
Medication?" Duo stood up again, frowning darkly. "Yeah, fine, medicate the problems away, medicate my stinking childhood away, medicate all the people I killed in the war away, medicate away every freakin' Oz atrocity and torture that I witnessed. Yeah, I'll be nice and normal then. I'll go get a job flipping burgers or cut my hair and be a grease mechanic for Sally Po."
"It's not like that," Quatre replied softly. "They'll help you with the depression... isn't that what makes you do the crazy things you do, Duo? You try to get rid of it any way you can... it won't let you live a normal life with a normal job and responsibilities. It's too painful."
Duo slumped in his chair, staring down at the hands in his lap. "Yeah," he said in a small voice.
"Let me really help you," Quatre begged.
Duo nodded his assent, too tired, too hungry, too needy for Quatre's help to refuse. It was becoming a habit, Duo thought darkly, thinking of Zechs. What had happened to his pride?
"I don't get it." Duo shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the psychiatrist slowly walked around him with a clipboard. Once in awhile the man lifted the clipboard and scribbled a note. Duo wondered what he was writing. Good or bad? He shivered and controlled it with an effort. It felt too much like an Oz interrogation. Sterile room, two chairs, one plain desk, and man who asked one question after another.
"Mr. Maxwell, " the man said in exasperation. "You have been through three weeks of mental therapy. At the beginning of each session, I ask about your medication. What is it that you 'don't get'?"
"How you or the medication is helping me," Duo grumbled and slumped in his chair, hands hanging between his legs. "I don't feel any better than when I started."
The doctor was old and wearing a white lab coat. His white hair, short clipped, and long nose, made him look unusual and very curious. He eyed Duo intently as he explained, "These things take time, sometimes years. You want instant results. That isn't going to happen."
"Years?" Duo shook his head. "No way am I doing this for years, man!"
The doctor scribbled something onto his clip board. "I take it, then, that you HAVEN'T been taking your medication?"
"Is it supposed to make me agree to this crap?" Duo shot back.
Another scribble on the clipboard. Duo saw the word, 'paranoia' briefly before the doctor turned it away from him. Duo stood up. "That's it! I'm gone. You don't know anything about me! You can't possibly cure me when you don't even know what the problem is!"
The doctor was calm as Duo headed for the door. "I can sum up your problem with a question, Mr. Maxwell."
Duo looked over his shoulder and paused, curious despite his anger. "A question?"
"A simple question, Mr. Maxwell," the doctor affirmed and then struck right to Duo's heart, stunning him. "What do you have to live for, Mr. Maxwell? Until you can answer that question, you won't be cured. You will continue this suicidal, destructive, immature behavior."
Duo frowned and a hand raised involuntarily to rub at his aching heart. "I know the answer to your question already. It's 'nothing'. I don't have anything to live for. There's no point to life, so I intend to enjoy myself until..."
"Until?" The doctor echoed. "Do you hear yourself, Mr. Maxwell? You are quite obviously suicidal. If Mr. Winner had not given specific instructions to the contrary, I would have had you committed immediately for observation. You need help. You need therapy to help you find 'the point' to life, Mr. Maxwell."
Duo shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry about me, doc. Shinigami doesn't want to die."
The doctor was very serious. "Do you imagine that your destructive habits are not a form of suicide? Mr. Maxwell, please, allow me to continue treating you. I warn you, if you go now, I will have to inform Mr. Winner. He will cut off your funds."
Duo grinned, a dangerous manic grin as he walked out the door. "Thought so. It's all about the money. You don't want yourself cut of from the Winner cash cow. You're like all the rest. You don't give a flying fuck about me."
Duo walked to the nearest pay vid screen, dropped in his money, and dialed Heero's number. He had told a white lie and it made him uncomfortable. There was one man who cared, but Heero was dangerous. He didn't coddle Duo with fine words and a diploma, he forced Duo to be normal with a soldier's cruelty and a hard fists when he failed to perform. It always worked... for awhile. It would do. It was bearable, Duo thought, until he found something else.
Heero watched Duo out of the corner of his eye as the young man walked across the living room to go into the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else, drying his hair with a towel briskly, the wet strands hanging all about him.
Like a wet , long haired, dog, Heero thought sourly, but his eyes were zeroing in on Duo's erect, pink nipples and the very slim line of his waist. Slightly damp still, the shorts clung to the small, rounded cheeks of his ass. He looked almost feminine, Heero thought; relaxed, hair loose, shapely legs sedately taking him out of Heero's sight.
Heero felt an erection. He moved his jeans uncomfortably and shifted in his chair, computerized reports forgotten for the moment. His reaction troubled him. He wasn't gay, but he took whatever opportunity presented itself. Sexual frustration hampered his efficiency. Still, he didn't want to be attracted to Duo. The young man was bad news and Heero had very little self control where he was concerned. He had allowed Duo to return to the apartment as long as he kept his job at a tile cutting factory, but Heero knew it wouldn't last long. Duo would lose that job, mouth off again, do something foolish, illegal, or just plain insane. Heero would hurt him again, it was inevitable. The boy pushed every one of Heero's buttons. It was almost as if he were asking for the punishment.
Heero hated those moments when he lost control. Common sense told him to cut the young man loose, once and for all, and to forget about him. Duo was a lost cause. He shouldn't be a party to the young man's self destruction, yet, when Duo wasn't there to tease and torment him, Heero felt somehow dead inside. Heero had girlfriends. He had a rewarding career. He was on the fast track to being head of the Preventers when Sally Po stepped down. Everything was going right for him. He shouldn't need a baka from L2 to keep him company.... yet he did. He couldn't explain it even to himself, but, he felt, it was the root cause of why he lost control when Duo failed to meet his expectations. He wanted Duo around him. He wanted Duo to be his friend. He didn't want Duo to make that impossible.
And now... Heero watched Duo come out of the kitchen with a sandwich and a glass of milk. The boy settled, cross legged, on the couch and stared at nothing while he ate. Heero found himself looking at the beautiful line of Duo's slim waist again and felt temptation. Heero's erection grew stronger. For the first time, Heero wanted something more than inane talk. And why not? he reasoned with himself. He needed to finish his reports. He needed to get rid of the need and its distraction. His girlfriends were inconveniently elsewhere. Duo was gay. Why would he object? Heero didn't think that he would.
Heero stood and walked over to Duo. Duo didn't notice, deep in thought, mouth chewing automatically. His hair was all about him, still damp and a long way from being dry. It clung to his thin body, covering all the bone deep, black and blue bruises, the knitting ribs, and the scrapes from being thrown to the floor. Yes, Heero thought, licking his lips, it would be easy to pretend that Duo was a woman. He was very pretty in the face with his huge eyes and smiling mouth.
Duo finally noticed. He looked up, blinking in confusion. "What's up, Heero?" he asked.
"I wish to change our arrangement," Heero said.
Duo went pale and nervous, putting milk and sandwich on the coffee table as if he were getting ready to run. "Uh, well, why? I still have my job. I've been showing up on time. I gave you all of my first paycheck. What's to change?"
"I have to concentrate on my work, " Heero told him. "I find relationships with women at this time to be time consuming and distracting. It is inefficient when I only need simple relief, not their companionship."
"Okay...," Duo blinked again. "So you don't want to wine and dine a girl just to get some. I can understand that. I guess Mr. Heero Yuy hand is going to get some extra attention," he chuckled, finding the entire conversation strange. Heero Yuy didn't talk about personal things, especially not about his sex life. Duo couldn't help his next question, even though a primal warning bell was going off in his head. "So, why tell me?" he smiled hopefully. "Want me to take the girls off your hands?"
"That would be a mistake, since you don't have any interest in women," Heero replied, his eyes boring into Duo's.
Duo's eyes widened and he felt creeping shock and uneasiness. "What? Why do you say that?"
Heero cocked his head sideways as if puzzled by Duo's denseness. "I have never seen you with a woman. I have never heard you even speak of one in a sexual manner."
"Uhm, I'm not that old, Heero. I guess I'm just a late bloomer." Duo started to get up, but Heero's hand closed on his shoulder and held him there. He looked at it and then back at Heero. "Okay, you wanna tell me what you're thinking, Heero?"
"I wish to have sexual relations with you," Heero finally admitted. "You will give me oral stimulation, or, if you prefer, I will enter you anally. This will relieve my stress and allow me to continue working at peak performance. I will, of course, allow you a reduced rent to compensate you-"
Duo slid out from under Heero's hand, wrenching his shoulder painfully. His mouth was hanging open and he felt suddenly very afraid. "I- I'm not gay!"
Heero frowned. "My observations are not incorrect," he replied. "You have shown homosexual tendencies towards me. I am proposing a situation where you are allowed an outlet for your sexual urges and I am relieved of my sexual stress and need for women."
Duo stammered and then he backed away. "You aren't going to pay me off to suck your cock like some L2 whore, you freakin' pervert!"
"Are you a virgin?" Heero asked grimly. "That would explain your reticence. I'll show you how it's done." He reached out and grabbed Duo hard by the arms. Before Duo could resist, Heero was pinning him to the couch face down and pulling down his shorts. "A few of the women I have had sexual relations with were virgins as well. Once I entered them and demonstrated what they were to do, they were agreeable to continuing the relationship."
"Get off me! Heero, I'm going to kill you! Get the hell off!" Duo screamed. He was about to be raped. His mind ran in little circles of panic as he tried unsuccessfully to throw Heero off of him, but injury and too many missed meals had made him too weak. He wasn't any match for Heero's steel bending strength.
Heero's hard hand opened Duo's ass cheeks and he spit there several times. It felt warm and disgusting. Heero fondled him, squeezing flesh. "Very much like a woman's buttocks," Heero said in a low, husky voice. "I will not have any trouble imagining that they are."
"Don't do this!" Duo whimpered and then, feeling every fiber of his being cringe, he offered, "I'll suck you off, man. I will. Come on! Let me do that. I don't want to get raped by you, k?"
Heero grunted and suddenly Duo was being pulled up and his face was being forced towards Heero's large erection. "Rape between two men is impossible," Heero stated. "but your offer is acceptable," Heero agreed.
Duo came face to slit with Heero's dripping, swollen member. He made a plan in a split second of time and squirmed under Heero's grip. "Not the hair, man. Let go of it. You don't have to force me, k? I'm gay, remember? I've always wanted to suck your cock."
Heero grunted and let Duo go. He leaned back into the couch and spread his legs a little, waiting, too confident in their long friendship, Duo's passivity, and his own cold, facts. When Duo hit him with both fists clenched together, full force, straight into his scrotum, Heero collapsed in agony. Duo was up at once and slamming his foot into the side of Heero's head, not once, but twice with a burning fury. Heero toppled unconscious to the floor with barely time for a single cry.
"Fucker!" Duo screamed at him, shaking from head to foot. "You CAN rape a man! You were gonna rape me! You fucking asshole!" Duo kicked him in the crotch again. "I made it through my childhood on L2 without having some ass wipe screw me, I'm not about to let Heero Fucking Yuy do it now!"
Duo saw Heero stir. Terror seized Duo, even though he knew that he had the upper hand. Heero had always accomplished the impossible, a super man, it didn't seem unlikely that he would recover from that kind of punishment and either try to rape Duo again or resort to his usual tactics, beating Duo to death. It was time to get out of there.
"Keep the damned rent money!" Duo shouted from his bedroom as he pulled up his shorts and tossed some of what few possessions he had into a duffel bag. He climbed into shirt and shoes, forgot his coat, and snagged his sandwich on the way out of the front door. He ran into the night, ignoring the cold and the rain. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he would never go crawling back to Heero again.
"Sir, there's a young man at the front entrance who is asking for you," the cultured voice of the servant said with some trepidation from the intercom system.
"One of Relena's servants? I'm not in any mood to see her tonight," Zechs growled as he downed a glass of wine with a few gulps and then put the glass down on a side table a little too hard. He glared at the fireplace, lounging in a comfortable, blue cotton shirt and white cotton pants. He white hair was a loose fall over his shoulders and his bangs were disordered and hanging over his intense blue eyes. He had just sent another young man on his way after a dissatisfying evening of insipid talk and even more insipid sex. Zechs was poised to go out on the town and find another diversion, one who had more of a chance of distracting him from the darkness with in himself.
"Sir...,' the voice stopped and then decided to rethink his rash decision to interrupt Zechs. "I'll call for the police sir. I'm sorry to bother you. He's obviously some demented street person..."
Zechs sat up straight in his chair, senses becoming alert. "Wait! Describe him."
"Well, sir...," the voice struggled to find a concise description. "He is wearing shorts, sir, even in this ghastly weather, and loafers instead of proper shoes. He is blue with cold and he doesn't look well, sir. He has... well sir, he has hair at least five feet long and it's tangled and wet. I am reluctant to send him back outside for fear that he will expire in under a minute. He looks that bad off, sir. I'm sure the proper authorities will take him under their care and make certain-"
"You're a good man, to care about such an individual," Zechs replied smoothly, "We should show a little charity. Have my personal physician call here at once and have him be prepared to treat someone with borderline starvation, severe contusions, broken bones possibly, and perhaps hypothermia. I will be down to see him shortly."
The man seemed relieved and pleased. "Very good sir. Thank you sir. He looks like such a young child..."
Zechs cut him off. He didn't want that image in his head, of a helpless, child Duo. He wanted luscious, ready to be taken advantage of, Gundam pilot, Duo instead. He tried to conjure that image and hold onto it as he made his way downstairs and found several servants standing around Duo solicitously. Duo was seated on a chair, hair loose and soaking wet all around him, purple eyes strained and nervous. He was only wearing shorts and a thin shirt. Someone had draped towels over him, but he was still shivering. He did look like a child and Zechs found himself reacting to him that way despite his best efforts not to.
"Duo Maxwell," Zechs greeted smoothly.
"Zechs," Duo chattered back. His arms were gripping himself tightly. Those arms were thin, the elbows knobby. Zechs saw bruises, dark and fresh, on his wrists and upper, bare arms. Something had definitely happened again.
"It's a terrible night to be out in, especially so poorly dressed. " Zechs said, leaving it up to Duo how much to reveal and curious to see if he would reveal anything at all.
"I-I thought," Duo tried to stop his teeth from chattering. "Maybe, we could talk awhile, you know, about old times. It seemed a good night for reminiscing."
Was he that desperate for a place out of the cold and wet? What had happened with Quatre or any of the other Gundam pilots? Why didn't he go to them? It reinforced the impression that Duo was a child, a child who couldn't think how to take care of himself and needed others to take care of him. Zechs reminded himself sharply that Duo was a child of L2. He had cut his teeth on thievery and survival. If he was acting the innocent, hoping for pity, it was deliberate and calculated. Zechs hardened his heart and chuckled to himself as he began to play the game again, his need for a diversion satisfied, at least for the night.
"I'm too tired for conversation," Zechs replied. "Why don't you stay in one of the guest rooms and we'll meet for breakfast when we're both rested?"
Duo considered, a deliberate, face saving pause. Zechs wasn't fooled. Duo's entire body had reacted with relief at Zechs words. He was desperate. Zechs could see that clearly. "I suppose I could do that," Duo said with a shaky smile. "I'm kind of tired too. Thanks for the hospitality, Zechs."
"Think nothing of it," Zechs replied and then gave orders to his staff. They hustled Duo up the stairs to a guest room, clucking and trying to get him to agree to dinner, robes, slippers, and a hot bath. Duo walked slow, not able to hide a limp, and Zechs could tell that he was at the end of his strength, still, he paused and considered each offer from the servants as if he might refuse. He didn't, though, not to any of it.
Zechs waited for the doctor. When the man arrived, he gave him a terse explanation without revealing his patient's name. The doctor nodded gravely as they walked to Duo's room, saying, "Abuse? That's a nasty business. Repeated? I'll leave you the number of a good psychologist. The boy will need help. It is often hard for an abused individual to stop the urge to return and try to make things better. They often end up blaming themselves for the abuse and they believe that trying harder to be a better person, or to do what their abuser wants, will stop the cycle. He will need counseling to understand that this isn't so."
They knocked and entered Duo's room. The servants were still in the room and in a panic. Zechs breasted through them with the doctor and saw why they were so upset. Duo had collapsed onto the bed, unconscious, pale, and breathing raggedly.
"Damn!" the doctor exclaimed and began opening up the large case he had carried up with him. He jerked Duo's clothes off of him and examined him quickly and thou roughly, keeping his body between Duo and Zechs and the servants. "Exposure, malnutrition, contusions, slight concussion, hair line fractures, dehydration... this boy needs a hospital, sir."
Zechs shook his head. Duo wasn't going to escape him again. "You were told to bring all necessary supplies with you. Whatever you require, I will have someone acquire. This is a private matter."
The doctor gaped. "But..."
"Your credentials are impeccable," Zechs snapped, using his best military voice. "You are quite capable of treating him."
"Yes, but..," the doctor sighed, well used to aristocratic quirks. He as already making assumptions about the long haired boy and his relationship with Zechs. He could understand Zechs not wanting any scandal. "As you wish, sir. If you would clear the room, I will set up my equipment and begin treatment."
Zechs leaned a little to look past the doctor. He drank in the sight of Duo's slim body. Despite being thin and damaged, he was absolutely lovely. Wiry, yet smooth and well defined, a dusting of hair here and there, but still boyishly free of it. He was a man where manhood counted most, Zechs noticed, and felt a stirring in his own manhood when he saw that. Yes, Duo was worth the trouble, he thought, and more. He nodded to the doctor as he turned to leave, half an acknowledgement and half a threat to do his very best with Duo. Once Duo was well again, Zechs thought with an anticipatory air, the scales of debt would be tipped so heavily In Zechs favor, that claiming him completely wasn't going to be any trouble at all. The field was his, Zechs thought, and so too the prize.
****TBC****
Duo: That's it?! You're gonna stop there! You meanie!
Kracken: *sniffle* I'm sick again. I need to rest.
Duo: Awww! Poor Kracken! I'll make tea, wrap you warmly, rub your feet, prop your dead body up! Whatever I have to do to get you to finish!!!!
Kracken: Sorry, no can do. Doctor's orders. Must rest. *sniffle* *cough*.
Duo:Then I'll write it!
Kracken: *grumble* Go ahead, it's not as easy as you think.
Duo: (typing) See Duo. See Duo beat the crap out of Heero. See Heero cry uncle. Run, Heero, run.... hm, I guess it isn't so easy.
Kracken: Patience. I'll get it done and I'll make sure it's done right and good. Now, about that foot rub?