Warning; Yaoi, mention of rape, angst, mild fisticuffs (No, not fisting, fisticuffs!), some humor, language, absolutely Relena free!.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own the G- boys, I just take them out and play house. Don't sue. I have one shinny penny and the I.R.S. wants it.
Day One:
It was too quiet.
Heero stared at his laptop computer screen, squinting hard as he tried to make out the reflection of the Gundam pilot sprawled on the bed behind him. He'd been working uninterrupted for nearly two hours. No off tune whistling, bubble gum popping, slurping of coffee, endless chattering about nothing, or even a heavy sigh. The pilot was reading a manga, turning the pages slowly and quietly. It was... Heero groped... unnatural. It made him suspicious. He nervously fingered the safety of his gun in his butt holster and surveyed his surroundings for a practical joke. The soldier, trained to detect every kind of booby trap, saw nothing.
Duo didn't look disturbed about anything. He had on his ever present, impish smile, his violet eyes sparkling and intent on his manga. He twisted the end of his long, chestnut braid around one finger and then chewed on it as if to stifle laughter. He was definitely trying to be quiet.
Why does it bother me? Heero thought to himself. He should be taking advantage of the peace to finish his report. He should be pleased that Duo, at last, was trying to learn to control himself. Yet, Heero felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, why should Duo attempt it now after all of this time?
Duo stood up suddenly and stretched. He didn't groan, yawn, or even look at Heero. He was lithe in his black, tight fitting clothes. His braid swung about him as he turned on one heel, with the grace of a dancer, and exited the room both he and Heero shared. No goodbye, Heero thought, no attempt to touch him, no attempt to get him to join in whatever he was going to do.
"Baka!" Heero grumbled and didn't know whether he meant Duo or himself. Why did the boy always get under his skin? Quiet or making more noise than a bunch of Zeros in attack mode, Heero always found himself LOOKING at the boy, LISTENING to him, THINKING about him. Heero had been programmed ruthlessly to be a machine, an unfeeling, automation that would always follow orders. Duo should have been a file in his brain, orderly bits of information gathered only for the sole purpose of fitting him to missions best suited for his capabilities. Outside of that, Duo should have been nothing; a shadow moving about Heero, someone to be ignored until he was needed for the next mission. Somehow, Heero couldn't accomplish that. Something, buried deep inside of him, wouldn't allow it.
Heero finished his report. The silence pressed down on him as if it had weight. He found himself growing uncomfortable. More than once, his eyes drifted toward the open doorway, almost hoping that Duo would come back and do... something. Heero hated himself for it, beat himself mentally black and blue over it, and then decided... decided that he couldn't take the silence any longer.
Heero made his way downstairs. Quatre was curled on the couch, the blonde Arabian reading a folded newspaper while he sipped at some hot tea. Heero sat down beside him, the leather of the couch making noises as he settled. Quatre gave him one curious glance and then kept on reading. He knew Heero well enough to know that the boy didn't like any idle conversation or overtures of friendship. If Heero had a purpose, he would reveal it without prompting.
"Where has Duo gone?" Heero asked abruptly. It came out harsh.
Quatre looked up and blinked his large eyes. "Into town," he replied neutrally.
"For supplies?"
"No, just to walk around."
"Exercise?"
"No, just to... look, I suppose," Quatre replied, wondering why Heero had such a constipated look on his face. "Did you need him?"
The constipated look turned into an uncomfortable frown and Heero stood up. He hadn't once looked at Quatre. "No."
Heero stood there, thinking. Quatre almost went back to his paper, but Heero spoke again, having found a way to ask the next question without betraying himself to Quatre or violating his own personal code of conduct. "Is Duo ill?"
"Ill?" Quatre raised a golden eyebrow. "He didn't say he was."
"He was... quiet," Heero said, not liking it when he suddenly felt foolish. He began stalking away.
"That's unusual," Quatre's voice floated after him.
Heero stopped, hands clenched. "It is," he agreed.
"He wasn't quiet a moment ago," Quatre informed him. "He was chattering like a damned monkey before he left."
Heero felt a sudden complex emotion that he didn't understand. It made him angry in the next moment and he pushed it down deep where he kept all the rest of his emotions. He missed Quatre's small smile as he strode away. Enough foolishness, Heero, the Perfect Soldier, told himself, time to get back to work.
Day Two:
Say something! Heero willed. Do something!
Duo was combing out his hair by the window of their room, quietly contemplating something outside. He hadn't said a word all day to Heero, brushing by Heero without a glance or even his trademark smile. It was as if, Heero thought, he had suddenly become invisible to the boy; a ghost.
Heero finished his report and hit the send button. Closing the laptop, he turned in his chair and stared at Duo, hoping that would get a response. He made his stare angry. It wasn't hard. Angry, was the way he actually felt. For some reason he didn't understand, Duo's new attitude toward him made him feel as if he were being threatened.
Duo finished his brushing and began braiding his chestnut hair with efficient fingers. Heero watched those slim digits flash in and out, in and out. It should have made Duo look effeminate, but he had an assured, masculine motion to the operation, his violet eyes deep in concentration. No, there wasn't anything effeminate about Duo despite the hair. He was a Gundam pilot and he worked with the same intensity he gave to wiring bombs.
Distraction: unacceptable. Heero rose and left the room and Duo's silence behind.
Day Three:
Duo was chewing on his lip furiously. His eyes were violet slits and a twitch had started at the corner of his eye. It was obvious that he was trying very hard not to watch Heero.
Heero was folding his trademark green tank tops and spandex pants before putting them into his dresser. He was taking his time at it, making anal retentive sharp corners and smoothing out everything to avoid any wrinkles. Duo had never been able to watch this ritual without saying... something: a wise crack, an off color joke, or a sharp jibe. When he rose from the bed, scattering manga and cheese snacks, he was panting and getting flushed in the face.
He didn't look well, Heero thought. He analyzed Duo's behavior coldly and efficiently, but couldn't find any explanation. The boy looked as if he were going to pass out. Heero, used to judging his men for fitness, saw the clear signs of stress and mental instability. Duo was about to break under some great pressure.
That wasn't good, Heero thought. In less than a week, they were going to be entering into a very important mission. He needed Duo and his skills. He needed Duo to be competent, mentally and physically. A small voice inside of him, traitor to his training, whispered, 'and I can't stand the silence for much longer!'
Heero decided to make it easy on Duo. He chose to leave, taking the stairs down to the living room two at a time. Quatre, as usual, was seated on the couch, curled up with a book. As Heero sat down stiffly beside him, Quatre glanced up with an unreadable expression.
Heero clasped his hands in his lap, sitting straight, as if he were at attention. He wasn't sure how to frame his question without looking ridiculous, but it was definitely territory he was unfamiliar with. He needed a plan; tools to complete the mission of making Duo competent again.
"What...," Heero paused, shot a short look at Quatre and then down at his clasped hands. "What makes you... relaxed?"
"Relaxed or happy?" Quatre asked softly, frowning at Heero as if he were a dangerous animal too close for comfort.
""Hn," Heero said noncommittally.
"Okay," Quatre breathed. He thought for a moment. "Well, I like relaxing with a good book. I like tea. Uhm, hot baths. If you mean happy, well... I like when someone does something nice for me, does some of my work when I don't ask, makes me or buys me something nice. I like someone to listen... really listen to me and..."
"Hn," Heero grunted again and stood up. Mental list complete, he strode away to gather tools. Quatre snickered into his book behind Heero's back.
Day Four:
"You are in my Gundam," the cold, hard edged voice didn't sound like Duo at all, but people who messed with his Gundam didn't usually live to hear it. Heero looked up cautiously, wrench in hand.
"Your guidance system failed. I replaced it with a better model," Heero explained, watching Duo's angry face to see what effect this would have.
Duo pressed his lips together in a thin line. His face turned purple. It was along moment before he regained control and forced on his smile. "You're the boss," was as much as he would say before turning away from Heero and going silent again.
Quatre's suggestion to do something for the Gundam pilot to make him relax and be happy, wasn't being very successful. In fact, the opposite seemed to be happening. Heero deleted the suggestion from his mind as he climbed down from Deathscythe, and weighed the next suggestion more carefully for merit.
Day Five:
Everyone in the kitchen stared, frozen in various attitudes of sleepy surprise. Duo was holding a box gingerly and staring from it to Heero in distrust. "Why...?"
"Chocolate Sugar Busters is the cereal you prefer, correct?" Heero asked the question in the same tone he would have used during a severe interrogation.
"Yes," Duo replied slowly, confused. He was standing in his bathrobe, braid mussed from sleep and violet eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense out of Heero's actions.
"Quatre illogically puts the cereal on the top shelf, out of your reach," Heero explained. "I am exactly two inches taller than you. I chose to get the cereal box for you to make it easier for you."
Duo looked down at the cereal box as if he expected it to explode. "That wasn't necessary."
"Injustice!" Wu Fei barked irritably around his rice porridge. "You should thank him for his consideration, Maxwell."
"Yes, wasn't that nice of him?" Quatre interjected a little too eagerly. Duo turned to stare at the blonde Arabian.
"I guess," Duo said slowly and then shrugged as he slouched to the breakfast table and sat down to eat his cereal.
Heero ate a meal of high protein and carbohydrates, not caring that it was a jumble of unpalatable ingredients. Fuel was fuel. Taste wasn't a consideration. As he ate, he noticed that Quatre spoke several times, Wu Fei grunted replies, and Trowa said nothing as he read the paper. Duo stared down at his cereal bowl, eating mechanically. He looked very stressed. He was too quiet. He wasn't talking to the others or even trying to smile.
This suggestion of Quatre's hadn't worked either. Two failed missions. Heero refused to consider a third. He also refused to admit that Duo's silence was hurting him now, making him almost manic deep down under his soldier training. He hadn't realized until now, that Duo's constant chatter and outrageous pranks had been a stress reliever for him. He had come to depend on it. A weakness, pure and simple, yet one he couldn't do without.
Heero cornered Trowa after breakfast, getting him alone to question him about Duo. "Duo has been too quiet," Heero told him. "If his mental state has become uncertain, I need to know about it. Has he said anything to you? It is imperative that you tell me now. I won't let his instability jeopardize the next mission."
Trowa looked at Heero from under his brown bangs. "You must be worried. That's more words in one sentence than I've ever heard you use before." He shrugged. "Duo doesn't talk to me about serious things. Like all of us, he's been through enough to give him a lifetime of nightmares but, it could be something simpler than that. He might just be suffering from some teenage uhm, hormones. You know how that is?" Trowa and Heero stared at each other. Trowa coughed nervously. "Maybe you don't. Anyway, we all have them and sometimes they make us moody." He tried to crack a feeble joke, but it came out flat in the face of Heero's cold stare. "He probably just needs to get laid. That cures most teenage boy, uh,-"
"Sex?" Heero clarified. "You think he just needs sexual gratification?"
Trowa plastered on a sickly smile. "Don't we all?"
"No," Heero replied in a dead tone.
Trowa's smile fell. "No? You mean you don't... not at all?"
"Why is that important?" Heero wondered sharply. "I was trained not to respond in any way so that I couldn't be corrupted or coerced with sex by the enemy." Heero gritted his teeth. Somewhere, something deep inside was calling him a liar. He pushed it down and glared at Trowa. "We are speaking about Duo, not me."
"Well," Trowa forced himself back to the subject, unable to help the pity he felt for Heero. "It may just be about sex with Duo, but I was just being funny. The mind is a complicated thing. Without speaking to him, I couldn't begin to guess what's bothering him. Why- Why don't you try asking him directly?"
Heero felt a flush of anger at Trowa's stupidity. "He never talks about anything of importance. It would be a waste to try and get him to divulge information about himself."
"You're probably right," Trowa agreed.
"What sexual orientation is Duo?" Heero asked as he began to walk away. He paused when Trowa didn't answer. He looked back. Trowa looked stumped.
"I don't know," Trowa said thoughtfully. "I've never seen him with anyone. He's certainly never discussed any sort of relationship that I know of."
"Hn." Heero pondered that as he began to prepare his next assault on Duo's silence. He sifted through every bit of information his mind possessed about Duo Maxwell. He teased out bits and pieces of memory and then put that memory together. It made him frown uncomfortably. He recalled several incidences when he had discovered Duo looking at him with an intense, more than friendly, look. Usually that had been while dressing or coming out of the shower.
Homosexual? Sex of any kind wasn't a mystery to Heero. He had been forced to it and allowed to have it as part of the aversion training. It was a function to him, nothing more. All emotional and pleasurable aspects had been exorcised from the act brutally and coldly by the men who had trained him to be the Perfect Soldier. If Duo needed sex, he, Heero could give it to him, efficiently and quickly. Anything, that traitor voice down deep inside of him, to get the boy to smile and start talking again. The soldier part of Heero sneered. It was for the mission, nothing more, that voice said. For the mission, Heero would cut off a limb or even give his own life for it's success. This was something far simpler.
Day Six:
Heero waited for Duo to come into their room. The boy plopped down on the bed and stretched back on his hands, groaning wearily. He lay back completely then and stared up at the ceiling. He didn't say why he was so tired. He didn't acknowledge Heero's presence at the desk. He looked pinched and pale, lifeless and empty. A waxen image of Duo. Heero couldn't stand it any longer.
Heero stood up and went to the bed. Duo had an arm flung wide. He brought it in towards his body almost defensively and stared up at Heero, frowning. When Heero suddenly lowered himself on top of Duo, Duo stiffened in shock. Heero stared down into that pinched face, those wide, violet eyes, and then took Duo's mouth with his in a deep kiss.
Heero didn't miss the flash of the knife that Duo kept under his pillow. He rolled and it sliced his lime green tank top and a thin layer of skin along his side. Heero disarmed Duo easily, but Duo was trained for intense hand to hand combat. His fist connected with Heero's jaw and his knee came up into Heero's gut.
Duo turned into a demon, all fists and knees, as he managed to get free of Heero's weight. "You bastard!" Duo was shouting. "You stinking, bastard! Get the hell off of me! You think you're going to fuck me? I'll kill you first! I'll kill you!"
Heero backed off, staggering off of the bed with both hands clutched at his mid drift. He gasped for air, confused. "I thought," he gasped, "I thought you needed sex... Trowa said-"
"Need sex?" Duo screamed. He was backing up on the bed, arms coming around his knees and pulling them tight to his body as he shuddered and tried to get as much distance between himself and Heero as possible. "I was fucked when I was six, Heero, by a street gang. I was fucked in a whore house for a year after that. I was fucked by some of Treize's guards when I was captured once. Need sex? I don't ever want sex again!" He glared at Heero, his eyes glistening with tears he refused to shed.
Heero lowered himself into a chair. "I didn't have that information. It isn't in your files."
"Is that supposed to be an apology?" Duo snarled. "Of course I didn't tell anyone I was a whore, a butt-boy for a gang, and Oz! Would you?"
"Yes, I would have," Heero replied coldly. "That knowledge might be vital for the success of a mission."
"You would say that!" Duo almost screamed it. They fell silent, both of them panting. When Duo managed to calm down enough to think, he skewered Heero with his violet eyes. "Why? Why did you think I would want you to- to do that to me?"
Heero drew himself up, falling back on soldier mode. The situation was far too emotional for him. He simply couldn't operate in that kind of environment. "You've been silent. You've been... different," Heero explained. "We have an important mission soon. I drew up the plans for it and tailored it to the Duo I know. You aren't that person right now. I can't trust you, or your mental state, enough to carry out the mission."
"You didn't answer my question," Duo cut in savagely. "Why did you think I wanted you to fuck me?"
"I was unfamiliar with methods of relieving your suspected mental stress so I asked for advice," Heero admitted.
Duo stared, swallowing hard, feeling betrayed. "Who did you talk to?"
"Quatre," Heero admitted.
"Quatre?" Duo was stunned. "Quatre suggested that you rape me?"
"No," Heero corrected Duo stiffly. "He suggested that I do things for you to make you feel more relaxed."
"Oh," Duo narrowed his yes, understanding suddenly. "I was freaking out, wondering if some Oz operative had disguised himself as you and infiltrated the Safe House. "
Heero touched the butt of his gun, nervous at the very suggestion. "It was Trowa who gave me the suggestion that your problems might stem from sexual frustration. I did extensive research on the subject and found his suggestion valid. I wouldn't have approached you in such a manner without being certain of the science and psychology behind the premise."
"I suppose that's as close as you can come to saying you care about me," Duo grated. "Unfortunately, you were completely wrong!" He gathered himself and then looked at Heero squarely. "I've been silent, not because I'm mentally ill or sexually frustrated, but because I finally figured out that I was hurting you."
Heero stared, perplexed. "Explain," he demanded simply.
Duo scowled and clenched his hands together. "I kept trying to draw you out, break that hard shell of yours, and reveal the real Heero Yuy, the emotional, normal guy that those bastard doctors tied up and left for dead a long time ago. I kept thinking... one more joke... one more crazy trip... one more stupid story... but then I saw the pain and confusion in your eyes. I saw that there isn't a 'real' Heero Yuy. You are him. You are a cold, merciless, bastard, Perfect Soldier and you will never change. Even sex... cold, merciless, raping, soldier sex. That's what you were going to do to me, weren't you? Nothing better than I got with Treize's guards, except that you wouldn't have beat me near to death afterwards."
Duo shrugged dispiritedly. "I decided to just do what you've always told me to do, Shut- up, Baka! Well, I shut up. I didn't want to hurt you any more. Why didn't you just accept it?"
Heero searched his mind for the answer. Why couldn't he accept it? It is what he'd always wanted, a submissive, obedient Duo ready to follow orders and shut up. "It isn't you. You'll mess up my mission parameters if you keep behaving this way." Heero hated the weakness of having to express himself that much. He recovered by making his voice hard and brutal, "I order you to act like yourself again. Fail to obey me and I'll kill you! I won't let you jeopardize the mission."
"Only if you stop trying to- to help me!" Duo barked back. "That isn't you, either, Heero Yuy! I've had my leg broken in three places and you've told me to get over it and run five miles to our Gundams!"
"And I've run beside you with two broken legs!" Heero barked back. "I'm not soft! I don't need a Baka like you trying to spare feelings I don't possess. I've fit each pilot into my mission parameters. I have learned to operate at full efficiency in concert with all of you. Change those parameters, and my efficiency suffers. Understand?"
Duo blinked, understanding, suddenly, far too much for Heero's comfort. A grin spread across the Deathscythe pilot's face; the old familiar, irreverent smirk. "Okay, Heero, I'll let you have your way, this time. Remember though, you asked for it."
Duo rolled from the bed in one fluid motion and scooped up the knife where Heero had tossed it. He pointed it at Heero. "Don't ever try and fuck me again." At least for now, Duo thought deep down, remembering Heero's soft lips on his, "or, I'll kill you."
The glitter in Duo's eyes was the last thing many soldiers saw before he cut them down with Deathscythe. Heero felt a chill at having it aimed at him. He nodded, once. "Acknowledged." For now, that traitor voice whispered, remembering the feel of Duo's steely, hard body beneath him.
Prologue:
Day Seven:
Heero typed up the mission report on his laptop with gritted teeth, eyes cold fire under dark brows. Behind him, the Braided Baka, was chattering like a monkey.
"But, I'm bored, Heero!" Duo whined. "Why can't we go to the beach? Why do you have to type so many reports? Ping Pong, that's it. I'll front you some points. I'll let you win? Anything, Heero! Please! Can't you just take those fingers off the keyboard, turn, and look at me for once? I swear, you're going to grow fucking mushrooms on your fingernails! You haven't seen sunlight since that last mission... ah, no, it was dark wasn't it? Well, it's been too long then! We definitely have to go to the beach. Volleyball, that's it. We'll get the guys and have a game. Come on, Heero! Smile, relax, look at girls in bikinis... or guys, if you want to. Do you like guys, Heero? There'll be g-strings on everyone, I promise! You'll see something you like! Come on, live a little! I'll put on a g-string. Wanna see me in a g-string, Heero? I'll play volleyball in a g-string! What are you doing? Gonna chase me? Better run fast! I'm putting on the g-string! Hey guys! Save me! Heero's trying to kill me before I put on a g-string!"
........Owari.........