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"Sparks Fly"Written By: Fancy
Figures Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, wish I did, just
enjoy writing about 'em for free etc Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, romance, Yaoi, lemon Pairings: 1x2x1 Summary: Duo Maxwell is this year's brightest
young entrepreneur. Heero Yuy is his sharpest and best programmer.
Together they created the successful dating agency, Sparks, with a
new and refreshing approach to matching people. A year on, their lives
are very different -- Duo has all the trappings of success and all
the company he could want; Heero is solitary and disapproving of such
a lifestyle. But they both have secrets to keep, and both are in need
of something -- or someone. When Duo decides to update the agency's
unique matching program, he and Heero are thrown back together again,
and there's a different kind of sparks flying. What with their very
contradictory natures, a malicious hacker, and a crisis at the agency,
it's not surprising they don't find it easy at first to get along. Other notes: Thanks to Suzanne, for suggestions
and inspiration! Written for gwyaoi's AU Novella Challenge
"Sparks Fly" Chapter 1 "And this morning's guest on your favourite programme, ladies and gentlemen, is the successful and -- dare I say it! - very eligible entrepreneur, Duo Maxwell!" The ripple of excitement reached even behind the cameras, and the entire makeup department was peering from the studio wings. The host of the Morning Glory chat show crossed her legs, tugged at her inappropriately short skirt, and turned bright golden eyes to the man sat beside her on the comfortable chairs. "Mr. Maxwell -- may I call you Duo? A meteoric rise to fame and fortune in the last two years, they say. You appeared on the business scene from a mysterious past, and have masterminded the launch of not just one, but three or four very diverse ventures. All of which have been extremely successful! Most of our commentators attribute this to a combination of astute decision making and great personal charm. Do you agree with this assessment?" The man opposite her actually looked less than comfortable. He was laid back in the chair, but appeared almost too long for it, his legs crossed and folded to the side. He was young -- in his early twenties -- and astonishingly attractive. There was something about his whole expression that oozed charisma; wide, violet eyes, a generous mouth that always seemed on the verge of laughter. And thick, chestnut brown hair that flopped artlessly on his forehead, and was swept back into a braid that reached to his waist, defying the current fashion. He looked as approachable as a favourite brother, or the guy next door. And yet he also exuded a confidence and an assertiveness that would command the proper respect. He was perfectly dressed -- a designer suit, but no tie; a crisp white silk shirt, elegant boots. At the interviewer's question, he shifted himself to sit more upright, and a rather rueful grin spread over the handsome face. One of the makeup girls sighed in the background. "Come on, Amanda if I listened to those commentators too often, I doubt I'd recognise myself in the mornings! I'd say it's just hard work and a coupla good ideas, and a hell of a lot of luck. Plenty of other guys in the same position." He had a pleasant, softly-accented American voice, with a hint of self-deprecation. The interviewer, Amanda, simpered for the cameras, and her eyes ran quickly up and down his tall, attractive frame. She was no fool -- she knew that this guy was smarter than she'd ever be. He was being modest. She and her producer had fought for months to get him on the show -- to try to find a slot that his busy schedule would allow. "Maybe! And, of course, our introduction referred to your eligibility -- not only because you are, as far as we know, unattached, but also because this month is the launch on the stock market of your first -- and most famous -- company. The dating agency, Sparks. What gave you the interest in this business to start with? It's an unusual one, isn't it, compared to your other commercial work, in computers and electronics?" "Yes, I suppose so," shrugged Duo. Really, he did find these interviews fairly embarrassing, but his PA insisted he do them periodically. "It wasn't my idea, though. It was a friend's venture, and he couldn't keep it on -- so I offered to buy it off him. I thought there was some mileage in it. I redesigned it, and relaunched as..." "...as Sparks, I know. And it's gone from strength to amazing strength. And in an environment of many such agencies, all competing for clients. What makes yours different?" "I wasn't impressed with the very broad, unimaginative questions that most agencies ask their clients, to try to establish a suitable profile for them. I had some guys develop a different template. I reckoned my clients would rather wait a little longer, and put in a little more work themselves, for the sake of one or two less suggestions -- but ones which matched far more closely what they wanted." "And they seem to love it --" "Many do, yes. But they must be honest with me. It's critical to me, that there are no lies. There's no point in a relationship based on lies right from the start, is there?" His eyes were rather sharply on hers, but the camera didn't pick it up. She rushed on. "So, you developed this new matching system --" "Not me," he broke in, gently but firmly. "I'm no computer genius." "You rely a lot on your IT department?" "I guess I have to. The whole principle is initially a database management issue, isn't it? We gather what we can about the client, then it's matched against the other clients on file. I'd be lost without the techies to do that. All credit must go to them -- I just have the idea; they deliver it." "I think it's a little more than that, Mr Maxwell, isn't it? Don't you interview your potential clients personally?" He raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes, I do. When my time allows. The bulk of the work is done behind the scenes, but I still think there's scope for some final assessment -- a personal touch. That's the one thing that can't be programmed." "That's very admirable," murmured Amanda. Her producer was waving arms behind the camera, there were seconds only to run. "And I suspect that's what makes you so very successful, compared to others. Just one last question, Duo, if I may --" Here it comes, he thought to himself. She'd been leading up to this for twenty minutes. "Anyone special in your life at the moment?" "No, Amanda, not that I'd necessarily be broadcasting it on national TV if there were!" They both smiled -- politely -- at his gentle jibe. The makeup girl in the wings smoothed her hair, with more hope than expectation. "Perhaps you might use your own agency, eh? To find that someone special?" There was light laughter from the crew. The man opposite her stared back for just a second too long, and she shivered slightly. She'd gone too far! Only he would have known that, of course. But then Duo Maxwell smiled, and the smile was broad
and frank, and well recognised in the media -- it would be on Time
Magazine's cover that very month. "You're inevitably not the
first to suggest that, Amanda. And perhaps, one day -- I will." But it had been a bloody long day. Was he losing the taste for all this? "Thanks, Cal." His assistant had arrived before him, to take his coat and jacket, and to pass him a drink, but then he waved him away. "Take the night off, OK? I think I just wanna bed down early. There's nothing on tonight, is there?" Cal, an alert and loyal young man, cleared his throat warningly. "There was one call, Duo, from a Ms Amanda Bradnam -- the interviewer -?" Duo winced. "Please make my apologies. You know -?" "I know," replied Cal, and the ghost of a smile appeared briefly on his face. "Another night, maybe," murmured Duo, with an almost automatic response. He remembered her shining, hungry eyes at the interview. If he'd been more suspicious, he might have thought she was stalking him recently -- there'd been more calls than strictly necessary about the damned interview, then she'd "bumped into" him at a gallery opening last month, and the launch of a new cologne... "Duo, are you all right?" Cal was hovering, concerned. "Can I get you anything else?" He was shorter than Duo, running to plumpness already, though he couldn't have been more than a couple of years older. A good Jewish boy, he always described himself, with a cynical smile -- he ate what his glamorous, widowed mother told him, took his money home to her, and spent weekends meeting prospective Jewish brides. He'd been with Duo for over two years now -- he was devoted to him. His organisational skills were invaluable -- his ability to keep secrets when it mattered were equally prized. Cal's question tonight was very deliberate, and he put a hand on Duo's arm. "Cal, I'm fine..." But the murmur was half-hearted. Cal felt the hesitation, and his response was to run his hand round to the man's chest. Slipped his fingers between the buttons of his shirt, started to flip them open. Duo sighed. "You don't have to, Cal..." "I know. But I want to. You need to relax." He tugged the shirt out of the trousers, pushed it back off Duo's shoulders. Gently, he pressed the other man back against the wall, his hand firm on the bare chest. For a few minutes he massaged the knotted muscles of Duo's neck and shoulders, trying to bring him some relief. His breath was soft on the skin as he concentrated. Then he sank to his knees in front of his employer, and slowly unzipped his pants. "God, wait... I don't ..." Duo groaned slightly, though it was obvious that this was not the first time Cal had done this. Nor that Duo had let him. "Relax, Duo. It'll be good. It always is." Sighing, Duo slumped against the wall, putting a tentative hand to the dark head at his groin. Cal reached inside the pants, his nimble hands smoothing across silk boxers. Ones that he'd shopped for himself -- Duo never had the time. He felt the telltale bulge underneath, felt Duo's slight flinch as he grasped it. Eagerly, he encouraged the half-erect cock out of the silk. Duo needed looking after -- he needed attention, he needed care. But Cal needed to do it as well. They both benefited from this, didn't they? Smiling slightly, Cal put his wide, thin lips to the hesitant cock, and licked across the tip. He murmured with pleasure, as Duo shuddered. The flesh swelled and pressed at Cal's lips. His mouth widened, and surrounded it, and he started to suck gently. He felt the thickness grow, the passion building up inside his mouth. It'd be quick tonight, he could tell. Duo was moaning slightly, pressing on his head, bucking his hips to meet the suction. Cal started to rock backwards, increasing the pressure, running his tongue across the slit, savouring the seed that was starting to leak out. Duo was gasping now, the end was near. He gripped at Cal's hair, his thighs tensed suddenly, and then he cried out as the rush took him over, and he spewed out into the young man's mouth. Panting, Duo's hands clung to the wall to keep himself upright. Grinning, Cal climbed up off his knees. He ran a hand
across his mouth, scooping up a few loose strands. "A quiet night
in, it is, then. I'll see you in the morning, eight o'clock prompt!
Good night Duo." He looked restlessly round the suite. He'd been here for some months now, after upgrading to the city, so that he'd be nearer the centre of the negotiations. But he rarely stayed anywhere longer than six months, and it was always a hotel, a suite, a base -- not a home. But wasn't this what he'd always wanted? Success, money, fame! Everything he'd seen pass by when he was a child. When the agency had come along, and his ideas had started flowing, it had been a dream come true. A chance for him to build his own life -- his own success! Damn hard work, turning a failed business entirely around, but he'd done it. As soon as Sparks had been launched, he'd moved quickly out into the public eye, and on to the introduction of other new ventures. Everyone wanted to know him -- to know about him! He'd been surrounded by marketing plans, commercial proposals, professional advisors. It had been the greatest change to his life since adulthood, and he'd embraced it with enthusiasm. And from then on in -- maybe it was because of his growing confidence, or some kind of snowballing effect -- everything he'd touched had turned to commercial gold. It had been exciting at the beginning! he thought, getting a little sentimental. Learning as fast as possible about the commercial world - fighting off the cynicism when investors saw how young he was. Proving them wrong! He'd not realised his business flair until then -- it was heady stuff, suddenly being in charge of people and profits. Duo couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that thrill. When had he last really enjoyed himself? His friend who first owned the agency had bailed out long before it regained success. Both from the business, and from the friendship. Duo felt some regret, when he thought of him. But he'd chosen his own way. It wouldn't have been for Duo to hold him back -- and his leaving had opened the way for Duo instead. He'd found his own team of staff; new managers -- new programmers. Well, just one particular one sprang to mind. Funny he was thinking of him, now. He couldn't remember who'd recommended the Japanese American systems engineer who wrote his bespoke program almost single-handedly. But he'd been a marvel -- he'd grasped the idea in minutes, had worked as hard as Duo himself to get it written, and the industry had never seen anything so sophisticated. And they'd had fun doing it! Ridiculously long days and nights; the crumpled paper lining the floor, the charts on the wall, stuck and restuck with old tape, the sweeping red pen as he sketched out the structure he was looking for -- and through it all, the tap-tapping of the engineer's keyboard, dark head bent over the keys. Duo couldn't remember him ever actually going home before he did himself. They'd been good company for each other in a strange, diverse sort of way -- Duo chatting continually, the engineer a silent, concentrated counterpoint. But he'd made his mark regardless -- he'd make sharp, quiet suggestions, just when Duo was at his most frustrated. Suggestions that had allowed them to branch out in directions that hadn't been taken before. And then his fingers would fly faster - Duo remembered moving cups of coffee out of the way of his elbows - and the program took shape. Heero Yuy, Duo thought, with some surprise. He'd not thought of the man recently -- nor seen him around. It was because once the agency was launched, there'd been no more major development work needed on the Sparks program -there'd been no need for Duo to work with Yuy directly again. He had guarded the secret of the software most carefully, and had been worried that Yuy would be tempted to develop it for others, too. But he never had. He still worked for Sparks, almost exclusively. Heero Yuy. His face was suddenly very vivid in Duo's mind. Feelings followed in its wake that he couldn't identify easily. A fantastic worker, an invaluable asset. Duo had tried to get to know him better -- personally, like he did most of his close staff -- but no luck. Yuy didn't seem secretive as such -- just private, and sparing with his conversation. Involved almost entirely in his work. Patti -- the secretary -- had said Heero Yuy was the best looking geek he'd ever employed! Duo smiled at the thought. He was pretty sure she'd had no success there, or wouldn't the whole office have heard by now? He'd look him up tomorrow, when he went down to the head office to sign some stuff. Duo got up to turn off the TV, unfolding his lean, athletic body to stretch out for the switch. He was wearing only his sweat pants, having changed into something more comfortable as soon as Cal had gone. The casual clothes made him look younger, and showed off an impressive physique that boasted a succession of personal trainers. His braid was unravelling a little at the end, and swung across his bare shoulders as he scooted off the bed. He grinned when he remembered Cal's disapproval, when he was first interviewed. He'd never worked for a guy with such an unusual look. But he'd had to get used to it! Duo had always wanted to succeed -- but on his own terms. He was never gonna be one of the crowd. He stretched up, the muscles flexing on his bare chest. He cracked his knuckles. Perhaps he just needed a change. Some new challenge. Heero Yuy ... yeah, he'd see him tomorrow. That was what was nagging at him. He'd be the best guy to talk to about some new ideas he had for the program. Why did he still feel so restless? He looked over at the drinks cabinet, but pushed his glass away and settled back down on the bed. He'd run through that business plan from the Marketing team. Cal had brought it over with a sly comment that Duo may need something to lull him to sleep later. Yes, a quiet night in, it certainly was! It had been a very long day. There was plenty of work to be done, to smarten the systems up in time for the launch, and he had no intention of letting any of those other game boy players work on it! Sure, he was meant to be part of an IT department, but few of 'em were allowed anywhere near the core program without his involvement. The screen popped into life in front of him, the blue light blinking in the dark room. He turned on a small side lamp. The main light bulb had gone days ago, and he kept forgetting to buy a new one. Like he forgot to get food, like he forgot to return calls from his work colleagues. Now they didn't bother inviting him out with them any more. And when they did -- well, he had to admit he could be a difficult companion. He wasn't so dense that he didn't see his own character faults. He could be too serious -- he'd miss the point of other people's jokes, though his own sense of humour and his wordplay was sharp enough. He didn't have much time for clubbing and drinking -- he dated so rarely he couldn't remember the last time. And he was intolerant of people who annoyed him -- he got too angry, too quickly, he knew that. He had a temper he couldn't control well when he was provoked. It was like his body and emotions couldn't keep up with the speed of his brain. He logged in, surfed his mail quickly, and then padded into his bedroom. Just three rooms in total -- and the kitchen/diner acted as his office; of far more use to Heero. He had no TV, he had no hi-fi. Just the computer -- leading edge equipment. And that was fine. It wasn't that he didn't have the money for anything else -- no, the contract at Sparks paid well enough. But why would he need it? He peeled off his clothes, down to his boxers. He usually worked the nights like this. The apartment was well heated, though he rarely felt the cold. He was a young, slender, sinewy man, with the pale golden colouring and dark chocolate-coloured hair of Japanese descent. He rarely looked in the mirror at himself. If he had, he would have seen a very striking man, with a sensual mouth and vivid blue eyes. Good looks that were rarely shown to advantage -- his expression was too often marred by a set mouth, and a habitual frown that mirrored his racing, internal thoughts. There was a pile of papers on his desk beside the screen, and he caught sight of Sparks's name on one of them. He'd worked closely with Duo Maxwell, in those early days of development. The guy had a good grasp of programming logic, and an excellent idea of how it could service the product. It was Maxwell's idea, his enthusiasm that got it all going -- but the final product bore the imprint of both of them. Heero was very proud of that, though he'd never admit it aloud. He'd enjoyed that time! That wasn't a word he used to describe his work very often. He bored easily -- he needed continual challenge. Maxwell seemed to understand that, back then. Nowadays the Sparks program still needed modifications; enhancements. He was kept busy enough. He wished he weren't thinking about Duo Maxwell. Damn difficult, when the man was on every hoarding, and on every chat show! Now he was even in the financial press. And where was he? Heero Yuy? On your own again, he told himself, which is how you like to work. In a team, but not of a team. It was how he thrived. Meeting deadlines, delivering the product, forcing through the testing and the implementation, and testing again. The thoroughness and single-mindedness were his trademark skills. There was so much satisfaction in that, that he didn't have either the time or the inclination for other relationships. Did he? He shook his head, impatiently. It wasn't his style,
this introspection. What a fool, questioning himself! He sat down
firmly at the screen and scrolled up to his directory. ~ * ~ |
