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"Five Boy Curry "Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: NC 17 Warnings: language, yaoi, het Summary: sharing a blanket leads to storytime Pairings: 1x2, 11x2, others tba? Note: "Five Boy Curry" is an actual recipe I got from an in-law who grew up on a Philippine island. I was cooking some curry the other day and the name reminded me of the five gundam boys
" Five Boy Curry "
Part 1. They were going to die very soon. First they would succumb to a lack of oxygen. Then obliviously freeze. Likely their lyophilized remains never would be discovered, floating in a small maintenance mech, surrounded by the huge debris field the explosion had generated. Commander Une tried to think of something soothingly philosophical to say. "So, have you been getting any, lately?" she heard herself ask. Agent Maxwell laughed and blushed. "Some, from time to time," he admitted. "Heero Yuy?" Une guessed. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me." "Guess its not exactly a secret. Just not something I would announce to the guys at work, y' know?" "Yes, I know." The flash vision she had of Heero and Duo rolling naked in bed was far more warming than the fire safety blanket under which she was huddled. "Tell me why the hell you're here," Maxwell suggested, his exhalations crystallizing into tiny blizzards that sifted into his lap. He was tinkering with one of the many malfunctional devices they'd found aboard the scrap heap in which they had taken refuge. Une felt grateful she was wearing a flight suit. Her agent was shivering in T shirt and jeans. "Rescuing you. Acting as closest available agent in the vicinity of your all-points alarm. I was returning to Headquarters from a hideously boring United Earth Sphere conference on budget shortfalls. And thought a little action would be, hmm, a pleasant change." "And look what that impulse bought you," Maxwell chuckled. He was nearly on top of his commander. The maintenance mech could accommodate two bodies, if they weren't large, and didn't mind a very close proximity. Especially since the pilot seat had been ripped out at some point in the mech's history. Duo probed the small atmospheric recycler that sat on the floor between his legs. "I think I can fix this with these cannibalized parts from one of the stabilizer units. It'll pump out a bit of oxygen for us. Running off the photocell. Not a hell of a lot of light around to power it. But better than nothing." As soon as he stopped talking his teeth clattered loudly together. "You should take the blanket," Une told him. "I'm better dressed than you." "You stay warm under there. I'll join you in a minute or two." Maxwell smirked at her. "Shared body heat and all that." "Make sure you have some left to share by then. I'm not interested in snuggling with the abominable snowman," she retorted. Opening a wall panel, Duo made a slight hmph-ing noise. "I think I can short circuit the mech's arms so that they hug the unit. Leave them in a feedback loop that will keep a little current running from the fuel cube starter. That should raise the internal temp for a while. Maybe." He fiddled around in the panel, sparks flying around him, threatening to set his braid afire, and burning their precious, limited atmosphere. The rumbling of the mech as it repositioned its limbs was frightening, the bucket of bolts groaning roughly into submission, threatening to come apart violently at the seams. At last the mech calmed, Maxwell concluded his efforts, came to Une and crawled under the blanket. She took him to her, clasping him tightly. It was like hugging liquid nitrogen, burning cold. Gradually his shuddering lessened. He opened his eyes and she looked into them. They were spectacularly beautiful. Purple, chaotically breaking into beams of blue and gray. She had never before viewed them so closely. "What happened to your shuttle?" Duo asked. "Captain Haerisen shot at me. His ship's about to go super nova, and the lunatic takes the time to shoot at my shuttle." "Gotcha, huh?" "It was all I could do to dock her," Une agreed. "So now we both need rescuing. Yeah, Haerisen's insane all right. Or, er, was insane." "You got him?" Une asked with the delight of the kill burning in her look. "Self defense. That's my story, Commander, and I'm sticking to it," Maxwell declared wickedly. "But what kind of nutso freak owns an explorer class ship, stocked full of luxuries, and doesn't maintain or repair his vessel? To the point she accidentally blasts captain and crew to Kingdom Come. Like you said, he was a lunatic. I downloaded as much evidence of his crime network as I could on short notice." "Yuy received your transmission. Well done, Agent Maxwell," Une told him. "Yeah, well don't thank me yet. Its my fault we're in a wrecked maintenance mech instead of some nice comfy life pod." Duo looked sheepishly aside. "There were some Sweepers I know, part of Haerisen's crew. I didn't wanna just let 'em die. When I realized the engine room was going critical, I triggered the 'abandon ship' alert. Guess they hadn't heard of the 'women and children first' tradition. Sorry." Une eyed the young man in amazement. She couldn't say she would have done the same thing, alerting her enemies of impending disaster, because she seriously doubted it. Still, the brash unselfishness of Duo's act took her breath away. "So, just how much does Yuy like you?" she demanded. "Uh, we get along okay. We're used to each other's ways, yer know? Why d'ya ask?" "Oh. Just if he's wildly in love, 'death do us part' style. Maybe he'll rush out here in the eleventh hour to rescue you. He's one of the few people I know with the search and rescue skills to accomplish it." "That's a good one," Maxwell chuckled. "Didn't he just receive a huge download from me with evidence condemning a ton of crooks? Likely he won't leave his comp for the next month. I think we'll be freeze dried and crumbled to dust long before Heero comes out to find us." "Ah. Well, it was a nice thought while it lasted." "Am I crushing you? I weigh more than I look like." He was very solid. In all the right places, Une decided. No hurry releasing her hold on him. "I'll tell you when to change positions." "Aye aye, Commander." Duo winked. "Erm. Do you think there's anything to those traditional freezing-to-death stories? About trying to stay awake as long as possible? I mean, seems to me my body temperature does chill when I'm sleeping." "Why? Do you think you are likely to drop off anytime soon?" "To say truth, I'm feeling a bit fuzzy around the edges." His confession alarmed her. If Duo passed out, it would leave her alone with her death thoughts. "That's hardly flattering to a lady, Maxwell. Here I grace you with my embrace, and all you can do is threaten to fall asleep?" "We could try telling stories. That's what my old gang used to do, when I was a kid on L2. And it got too cold to sleep. We would all huddle up close. Then someone would start a story. And it would be handed off to the next guy to tell the next paragraph. And so on. Round Robin." Even as he was speaking, Maxwell's eyelashes were fluttering down to his cheeks. Une kissed him. A solid lip lock. Full tongue. Fingers sunk into the soft mess of his hair. Her other hand stroking hard down his back. When she drew away, she could still taste the sweetness of his mouth on hers. "You start. First paragraph of Round Robin Reveille." "Ah," he gasped momentarily. His lips had a definite bluish cast to them as he grinned at her. "Once upon a different timeline, there lived a Warrior Empress. She had all the finest soldierly skills of any man. Yet she was young, beautiful, graceful, feminine. Her enemies in war tended to underestimate her. And so she came to conquer them all. Unfortunately, this left her in short order with a vast, peaceful empire. Filled with adoring subjects. And nobody left to fight. So she withdrew into her inner sanctum to sulk." At the end of the paragraph, Duo's face sunk onto Une's breast. She stroked his braid. "The Empress called for her Imperial Vizier. He was as young as she. Tall, handsome and soldierly too. The Empress took her regal leisure as her glance raked over him. Starting upon his silky platinum hair and ice blue eyes. Lingering down his firmly muscled torso and thighs. 'Ask the Imperial Chef what is for luncheon,' she commanded. 'Make it something interesting. Or else.' The Empress left her threat vaguely dangling." Maxwell stirred in her arms. Une came to a sudden decision. Perhaps it was impending anoxia impairing her cerebration. Or merely impending doom. But it seemed to her she had a simple choice. Fall asleep and then die. Or make passionate love to Maxwell and then die. She fingered the release that unfastened the seals to her flight suit. Rolled Duo onto his back and opened the fly to his trousers. "Here now, Duo. Let's exit this mortal coil in the grandest fashion," she urged him. Her hands, just emerged through the glove gaskets, offered warmth to his cock. She felt blood stir under the flesh with renewed vitality. She glanced at his face. His eyes were still closed, but his mouth was openly panting. "That's it, my dear," she purred, as she felt his cock harden. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."
Zechs eyed his dangerous mistress with a calculating look. The Vizier was well aware of the Empress' appetite for excitement. "I have that information already, Your Worship," he responded. "The Imperial Chef humbly offers a light but enticing dish. 'Five Boy Curry.' If it please Her Imperial Graciousness." Une stretched catlike, her delicate lips forming a slightly yawning 'oh' around feral fangs. "The chef is offering me stewed boys for a meal? That doesn't sound particularly appealing. Does the man take me for a cannibal?" "If I'm not mistaken, the name for the dish comes from the ancient practice of keeping 'house boys'. Pretty young males, clad in fanciful attire, who served at table. Since the curry was served over a bed of rice, with a choice of five condiments to sprinkle over the top, it was called 'Five Boy Curry'. In honor of the house boys who would be offering the dishes to the guests," Zechs replied. "I reject the Chef's suggestion. Unless the meal comes with five boys, serving the condiments," the Empress declared haughtily. Her vizier pondered the situation. The Empress kept an extremely practical and efficient household. None of its members had been selected on the basis of their looks. Still, there was a large palace staff from which to choose. And Zechs had an eye for beauty, both in objects and in people. "Well, we don't actually have any house boys. But I can think of some apprentices who would grace their parts in an improvisational play," he told his mistress. "Send for them at once," Une commanded. "And instruct my ladies in waiting to assemble some fancy costumery for our impromptu house boys to don." "At once, Your Imperial Highness," Zechs replied. Meanwhile, the vizier's mind wandered over his selection for five beautiful boys. ~ * ~
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