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"The Locker Shock Incident "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: R Warnings: language, yaoi, violence Summary: Post EW Preventers. Maxwell undertakes a death defying shuttle flight to destroy a killer's alibi on behalf of Yuy's case. Merquise feels an unaccountable urge to protect Duo. When the assassin comes stalking, will the combined skills of Zechs and Heero be enough to save 02 from the deadly blade? Pairings: 1x2, 6+1+2
"The Locker Shock Incident " Part 7. Duo's eyes lit when he saw the chocolates. He pounced upon the bright shiny box and hurriedly opened it. "Who's been eating my bears?" he rumbled in his best growly voice. "Said the porridge?" Heero asked with a tiny smile. Duo popped a chocolate flower into his mouth. "Fee, fie, foe, feet, er, I smell the blood of a bear-eater." "Be he tall or be he short..." Heero offered. "He cannot think of a clever retort," Duo grinned. "Which in fact could be defined as such, which would be a paradox." "As opposed to a couple of small yappy dogs." "Which would be a pair o' dachshund?" "Exactly. Where do we go from here?" "Its all downhill, just stop for a beer?" "Except that we're grounded. Confined to Headquarters," Maxwell scowled. "Couldn't go for a beer if we wanna." There wasn't even a window for a fractional view of the off-limits world. He got up from the bed and paced. Heero took the situation very seriously. Duo appeared about ready to blow a gasket. Even the abstract idea of 'being confined to quarters' spelled imprisonment to him. It was just a matter of time before the boy felt compelled to go AWOL. Which would be particularly dangerous for him just now. The restless pacing on the freshly broken ankle indicated Maxwell's oblivion. Yuy pondered distractions that would get Duo off his bad ankle. Activities that would diffuse his sense of entrapment. Activities that could be accomplished lying down. That would burn off absurdly elevated adrenaline levels. Activities that could... As Duo stormed past, Heero grabbed him and grappled him down upon the bunk. "Lie still," he directed firmly. He lifted the hem of the T shirt and pulled it up and off, directing the tense upper limbs in their anxious movements. Duo's pupils dilated to enormous proportions. "Just venting a little steam," Heero quoted him. He licked Duo's lower lip, then his upper lip, finding a hint of chocolate there. Heero traced the perimeter of Duo's chin, arriving at his ear. He spent a full minute attending to this much beloved appendage. It was as clean as any cat's when he'd finished with it. He then spent some time on the other ear, so it wouldn't get jealous. It tasted just as sweet as the first. With his fingertips, he lightly caressed the tender flesh at the throat and shoulders. The tension was palpable. "Calm down," he ordered. He sucked upon both of his thumbs, then softly rubbed them over Duo's nipples. Heero settled the curve of his cheek on the sternum and listened to the agitated hammering heartbeat. "Shhh," he said, the gentle exhalation chilling the nearest damp nipple to firmness. He rubbed his cheek against quivering skin. Then he sat up and ran his hands over the torso. He grasped the oversized sweatpants and dragged them down, careful of the cast, which gave off a wartime whiff of newly fused polymer, sending some of his senses chaotically back in time. He ran his hands soothingly over the thighs, the groin, and onto the rock hard member. "This is our room," he stated the obvious, describing the safe haven, staring into eyes that widened to show the whites. He pulled Duo onto his lap, clasped him lightly. But the boy was trembling now, every inch of him agitated. Damn. Surrounded by allies, all armed. What could be safer than that? He caressed comforting circles over Duo's back. "Easy. Shhh," he coaxed. He grappled minutely with his own personal hellfire. Where did persuasion end, and coercion start? "There's a closet," he whispered hoarsely. Setting the other aside, Heero rose from the bed, and opened the small door. So much for lying down. He approached the bed, picked Duo up and stood him inside the closet. He placed the boy's hands over the hanger rod. They gripped there with iron determination. Heero removed his own uniform hastily. He stepped inside the coffin-like space and closed the door onto darkness. The other boy's breathing was so still as to be nearly unheard. Heero groped for him in the funereal gloom, and outlined the feel of naked chest, neck, back, buttocks. He separated them with one hand while he suckled his fingers, and spread the saliva inside the boy's passage. Not a sound from the other in recognition of this invasion. Heero spat into his palm, mauled his corona, then his cock roughly, and pressed it home. He felt Duo's back tense as the boy pulled up on the hanger rod then lowered himself to be thoroughly pierced. With each of Heero's thrusts, there was that fierce tension, rising and falling. Dragged up, plummeted down. Again. Now more. Again. More, more. There aren't any spiders. Creeping on vulnerable skin. Heero shook his head as he felt his own flesh shudder. The quivering began across his chest, shivered over his guts, down inside the depths of his loins and out in a burning line of fire. Shot home to target. No spiders. No spiders. No. He grasped Duo's erection and milked it dry in pulses with his own. Duo's grip faltered and he dropped down with a great thunk of his cast upon the floor. Heero grabbed at him, tugged him against his chest, panting as silently as he could, and held on in the gloom. "Reversal. We're meant to come out of the closet, not get into it," Duo muttered. "Yes," Heero agreed. "You can do that next if you like. But then you will go to sleep. Even if I have to lie on top to keep you in your bunk." "Oh yeah. That'll be definitely soporific."
Maxwell rolled off the mattress onto the carpet, crawled across the spinning room to the small plastic waste can, vomited, extensively, repeatedly. "I think Dr. Po's painkillers have disagreed with my stomach," he rasped. He felt hands smoothing back stray locks of his hair, heard a chuckle. "Disagreed? I'd say their disagreement escalated, they declared war on the entire length of your GI tract and the battle is summarily lost, a total rout." "Thank you for your encouraging comments." "Have some water." Heero lifted Duo, replaced him on his bunk, opened the bottle and offered it. "Is it tomorrow yet?" "Its never tomorrow." "Damn. Today sucks." Duo rinsed the water around in his mouth. Meanwhile Heero escorted the trash receptacle down the hall to the restroom. When he returned, he joined the other boy in bed. Duo rested his head on Heero's chest. Powerful hands caressed the length of braid. Heero tucked the blankets around them both, careful to cover Duo's ear. By that time, his partner had passed out.
Dickerson accompanied them to the 437 shuttleport. He had gone so far as to reserve an emergency superspeed rail for their use, intending to be present at both the beginning and end of Maxwell's mad shuttle hop. The Commander, a tall, gray haired, soldierly looking fellow, had the air of having saluted the obstetrician and demanded field orders at the moment of his emergence from his mother's womb. His calm confidence in the business of the day irritated Peacecraft. On the street, they made their way down the middle of the walkway, through the parted, corralled crowd. Zechs heard the cheerful greetings from the mob. His name, 'Prince Peacecraft', sounded from time to time. More often he heard 'that's him', 'that's Maxwell', 'there's the Kid', 'that's Duo Maxwell', 'Maxwell, the Pilot', 'Maxwell'. At last they entered 437 and strode toward the Stargrazer's berth. The shuttle had been closely guarded by Preventers agents since its arrival on L2. Zechs glared at the surroundings, typically, dimly lit in pale blue. There was a small group of carefully screened reporters, murmuring amongst themselves. They had been briefed and given strict instructions. No questions and no photography until 586, after the flight. The business-suited individuals next to the shuttle entryway were the legals, defense and prosecuting attorneys. The court recorder. And the elderly judge himself, who appeared particularly to relish this outing. To Peacecraft's perception, there was a childishly delighted expression superseding the old man's accustomed dignity. Zechs stared down at Duo. The usual amethyst glitter of the kid's eyes was shielded behind mirrored sunglasses. But the young man's grin was unmistakable evidence of unalloyed enjoyment. 'You sure you want to do this? Its not too late to back out. I'll cover your ass in retreat.' All offers tumbled around in Peacecraft's imagination, but were stifled, strangled, left to die unspoken. It couldn't benefit the pilot's performance, hearing his CO speak aloud his deathly misgivings. There came a sudden flash of electric white. "No!" Brexten shouted. "Arrest that man." This from Dickerson. There was a brief tussle, as Brexten grappled angrily with one of the reporters. "No cameras. No photography. You trying to blind the pilot, you asshole?" A couple of Dickerson's men rescued the photographer from Peacecraft's agent, and took the hapless man into custody. "You were warned!" Brexten shouted in a fury at the group of suddenly silent reporters "Stand down. Back off." Peacecraft's order came peremptorily. His grip clamped down on Brexten's beefy shoulder. "Sir. Sorry, sir. They were warned," Brexten grumbled. "Enough!" Peacecraft reiterated, and turned instantly to the pilot. "Maxwell, are you all right?" "Yeah, sure." Duo grinned widely. "I mean, sir, yes, sir. I saw the camera coming up and shut my eyes before the flash." "Are you certain? Launch can be delayed," Peacecraft persisted. "Commander. My night vision is not compromised," Maxwell declared firmly, momentarily straight-faced. But then the grin returned. "Can we please get on with this, before I bust a gusset?" Commander Dickerson chuckled appreciatively. Time ran out. No more stalling possible. Maxwell took off his shades, his eyes firmly shut, while Peacecraft placed the helmet, then checked and rechecked the seals for his agent. The boy gave his CO the thumbs up and disappeared into the Stargrazer, the hatch sealed behind him. Zechs listened to the excited voices of the reporters. The authoritative directions of the agents. The occasional electronic sounds of flight control confirming permission to launch. Nothing from Maxwell, who had already gone to com-silence. He had told Une and Peacecraft he needed to concentrate on the flight. They had agreed to com-silence, Peacecraft, reluctantly. Now the undeniable thrill, the sudden adrenaline rush as the catapult engaged, whined, then screamed toward maximum acceleration, the automated trigger at the port as the rocket fuel ignited, exploded. "Launch sequence complete." Hovering outside the terminal beyond the launch pattern, in a fast, heavily armed vessel, was the other pilot. Heero Yuy's dispassionate voice sounded over Peacecraft's com. "I do not have visual on Stargrazer 02. Repeat. I do not have visual." What? Impossible! "Yuy, report," Peacecraft demanded. "Commander." The coldly controlled voice of the young agent. "I do not have visual on Stargrazer 02. Please confirm launch complete?" "Confirmed. Launch sequence complete. What have you got?" "Sir. Continuing to scan. I do not have visual." "Flight Control, are you tracking Stargrazer 02?" "Negative, Preventers Command. Stargrazer 02 is not tracking. We do not have Stargrazer on our screens. Stargrazer 02 is not tracking." "Flight Control. Preventers Command requesting stepwise gantry access," Peacecraft throttled the tremble in his throat. "Negative, Preventers Command. Temperature-regulated lock out still in effect." "Flight Control. Preventers Command requesting emergent/feasible gantry access," Peacecraft amended hastily. "We don't give a damn if we singe our whiskers." "Understood, Preventers Command. Flight Control confirming manual override on emergent gantry access, as soon as feasible." Peacecraft was already clambering into a maintenance suit. Brexten sealed the helmet for him. The small emergency portal flashed from red to yellow lighting, and Peacecraft slithered through the brief opening. He was sweating in earnest as his gloved extremities clutched the catwalk beams. Eagerly he scanned the launch bay. Empty, empty, empty. Impossibly empty. No visual. Stargrazer is not tracking. Simply, impossibly. Duo Maxwell had vanished. ~ * ~
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