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"War Dogs"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: Roses are red, violets are blue,
the GW boys are mine, and that’s the truth! Shigeki: You can’t rhyme worth a darn. And
they aren’t yours. Honor:…remind me. Why did I think getting a muse was a good idea? Warnings: yaoi, some sexy scenes, romance, my
odd humor, bit of language, bit of violence Rating: NC-17 Betas: Velvet and Caitilin Author’s Insane notes: Inspired by a story that actually happened to my mom. She told it to me often as I was growing up, so she can legitimately be blamed for the entire idea. And Wingnut requested a 2x3, which makes two people to blame. ^_^ I love having someone in mind to blame. =thought= *emphasized*
"War Dogs " Chapter One: Stubborn Cuss
He went out the door without locking it—he’d lived in his house for nearly two years now, and he’d never locked it. In this place, there was no need to. Crime was nearly unheard of on Lookout Mountain, Georgia. Besides, two of his cousins were on the police force. If something ever did happen, he had family he could turn to. He took the shortcut through the narrow patch of trees, past some of the houses scattered around the area on his way down the hill to work. The shortcut ran right next to a cage, double layered chain link fence with a sturdy top, concrete bottom, and a padlock. It was an impressive cage—and housed a premier German Shepherd that could probably get out of it if he really wanted to. Duo’s business was dogs—he was the trainer for most of the dogs on this mountain, especially the local police force. He knew dogs very well, especially shepherds, and he knew exactly what this dog was capable of. For three months he’d seen this dog, and for three months the shepherd had lunged for his throat, only the fence stopping him. He had a feeling that the poor beast was a remnant from the last war, and had no idea how to handle the sudden peace he’d been given. It was a beautiful dog, a tri color with a white ring of fur all the way around his neck. It was a rotten shame that he was so unfriendly. So Duo was going to fix it. On par with tradition, he stopped and tore the biscuit up so that he could slip it through the fence. This always required a bit of sneakiness, as the dog would have loved to bite off his hand. He did like biscuits, however, and always ate every crumb once it landed in his cage. “Hey, boy. I see you’re full of yourself, as usual. You might as well give up all that snarling and growling nonsense, cause you and I are going to be friends.” This was met with a growl. “Stubborn cuss, aren’t you?” Checking his watch, he sighed. “I’ll see you on the way back, okay? Try to be good while I’m gone.” As Duo walked on, he heard deep barking following him. “After three months, you’d think the dog would figure out I’m one of the good guys…he’s an obstinate little rascal.” + Duo fed him a bit of the sandwich he had for lunch on the way back home, and got the usual response. After spending some time just talking to him, he went home and fired up the grill. It was pretty weather, and he was in the mood for some charbroiled hamburgers. He went in and got the patties ready, then went out to the back patio. There was a surprise waiting for him when he came back out to the grill. A very large German Shepherd was sitting just outside the door. Duo carefully lowered the plate of hamburger on a table before braving the outside. “Hey, buddy.” The dog growled low in his throat, ears flattening slightly. Duo just stared back, bumfuzzled. How the hell had he gotten out of that cage? And why had he shown up here? Lowering down to the dog’s level he held out a hand. The shepherd immediately lunged and closed his teeth over Duo’s arm, snarling. Duo waited for a crunch, but those teeth never penetrated skin. “You’re confused, aren’t you?” he whispered sympathetically. “You’re not sure if I’m friend or foe. Well, you’re going to have to make up your mind one way or the other, bud. Either bite me, or let go, cause I’ve got dinner to put on the grill.” His ears went flat onto his head, and he managed to look rather ashamed of himself. Slowly he opened his mouth and stepped back. Duo nodded. “Alright, then. You wanna stay? I’m cooking hamburgers, and I know you like them.” Circling about, the dog settled himself near the grill and looked up at Duo, manner alert but not threatening. Duo felt like scratching his head in confusion, but he fetched the hamburger instead. Somehow, he’d managed to convince the dog that he was a friend. When dinner was cooking, he sat down on the ledge next to the dog, and cautiously extended a hand again. This time, he was allowed a brief petting and rubbing of the ears, but Duo wasn’t about to press his luck. The dog was the biggest line of German Shepherds that they made—he’d be somewhere around 6’2 standing on his hind legs, and roughly 165 pounds of muscle. Duo wouldn’t stand a chance against this dog if he went violent. Just about the time that Duo flipped the burgers over, there was a sharp whistle and a male voice calling, “KING!” The dog was instantly on his feet. He barked, and Duo could swear that his tail was wagging a little. Duo turned to the sound and called back, “He’s over here!” King’s master was not at all what Duo was expecting. He couldn’t have been much older than Duo, with thick chestnut hair falling smoothly over his face and sharp green eyes. Duo’s libido also noted that he was *damn* hot. He ran up, frowning in worry, but slowed a few feet from the dog to come in at a walk. “King, come.” The dog instantly went to him and nuzzled against his hand. The man dropped to one knee and stroked his head, which the dog loved judging by how hard his tail was wagging. “I told you to stay put, King. This is a direct contradiction of my orders.” The dog whined, reaching up to lick against his master’s face. “Um, that’s kinda my doing,” Duo offered. He trusted that his smile was welcoming, maybe a little rueful, with no hint of the sexual interest that he was feeling for this epitome of hotness. “I asked him to join me for dinner.” The man stood, looking around anxiously. “He didn’t hurt you or anything?” “Naw, he’s a buddy of mine, ain’t that right King?” King barked, tail going at warp speed. Duo was the recipient of a blank, disbelieving stare. “He’s…a friend.” “Sure. Granted, it took three months of feeding him treats to get him to be friendly, but we’re good friends now. Duo Maxwell,” he offered with an extended hand. Slowly the hand was accepted. “Trowa Barton.” Aha! He knew something of the guy now. From rumor mill, this was the bachelor that was holed up in that huge house. No one mentioned he was an all you can eat buffet in the looks department, though. “Why don’t you stay, have dinner with me? I want to know more about King, hear his story. And, well…” Duo gave the dog a wink, “I think he’ll be upset if he doesn’t get the hamburger I promised him.” Trowa gave his dog a questioning look. King whined, shifting from foot to foot and looking at his master pleadingly. A German Shepherd’s face was built perfectly for the puppy-eyed look, and Trowa didn’t have a prayer of standing firm against that. “Alright.” “Sit down, relax. I hope you like your burgers charbroiled, ‘cause that’s what I’m doing. King doesn’t care.” Trowa slowly sank into a patio chair. “Actually…he won’t eat meat raw. And he likes it grilled over boiled.” Duo heard a lot more than what Trowa might have intended. “You two are close, aren’t you?” Trowa’s hand strayed to the head on his knee, stroking behind the ears and turning the fierce dog into a puddle of goo. “He’s saved my life—and some friends of mine’s—several times.” “Start at the beginning,” Duo encouraged softly. “When did you two meet?” Trowa’s mouth twitched, eyes fading into the past. “Boot camp. Just after it, to be precise. My sergeant was fed up with my attitude—I thought I could do it all alone, that I didn’t need any help. I might have been right, but that was the wrong attitude to have in an army. You have to fight as a unit, or you lose. He understood that even when I didn’t. He finally assigned me to the K-9 section, and gave me King. I can still remember exactly what he said. ‘Barton, you’re an idiot, but you’re a talented idiot, which is the only reason why I’m putting up with your shit. Now, King’s like you. He’s smart, he’s tougher than reason, and he thinks he can do it all—there’s only one difference between you two. He’s better looking. His life depends on you—if he starves, or goes stir crazy from lack of exercise, or dies in the first scrimmage because you two can’t work together, it’ll all rest on your shoulders. He doesn’t know that of course—he’ll be wondering why I assigned him to you.’ Damn if the man wasn’t right. King hated my guts and wouldn’t let me near him unless he was muzzled for three weeks straight. Half of the problem was me—I resented him, and wasn’t in the best of moods when I was forced by duty to see to him.” “He’d definitely pick up on that,” Duo agreed wryly. “Dogs are smart in that way.” “I know. It was Quatre that kicked me out of my funk—he said we were both throwing a tantrum. I thought about that, realized he was right, and went and had a long talk with King. Six months later, we were the best unit in the field.” Duo’s eyes studied the dog at Trowa’s feet. So, he was right. King was a war dog. “I’ve felt so bad about keeping him locked up,” Trowa admitted morosely. “The war took a toll on both of us—made it hard to rejoin society. I changed careers, and went into computer programming. There are weeks, sometimes, when I barely manage to get one good walk in with him. Some people have told me that I should put him down, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.” “And you shouldn’t,” Duo stated firmly. “They didn’t know what they were talking about. That’s a good dog, Trowa. He’s more intelligent than some people that I know. He’s just confused—he’s known nothing but fighting for so long, he doesn’t really understand why he’s not being called upon to protect now. He’s not sure where the enemies are, and so assumes that everyone he doesn’t recognize must be an enemy.” Those words rang true to Trowa—sometimes, he’d felt the same way. It had taken a lot of work on his part to put the soldier aside and become a civilian again. “Duo…what is it that you do?” “As a living, you mean? I’m the trainer for the police dogs, and a few others here on the mountain.” Then he would know how to train King out of his confusion, teach him to be a civilian too. Trowa sat forward, eyes intent. “Duo, will you help him? I can’t do it—I don’t know how.” “Sure. It’s why I made friends with him to begin with.” Abruptly remembering that he was cooking, Duo dove for the grill and flipped the patties quickly over to a plate. They didn’t look *too* scorched… “Er…hamburgers, anyone?” + King was understandably confused at the new surroundings, and very defensive of his master. He became a little edgier as he came just inside the training field for the police station. Duo had noted the dog’s reaction and motioned for Trowa to stay put. “Hold on, I want to introduce the two of you to someone.” He took off at a quick walk, then came back a moment later with a trim Chinese man in tow. “Trowa, this is Chang Wufei, the Inspector General of this madhouse. Wufei, this is Trowa Barton and King.” Wufei cordially shook hands, but his attention was largely on the dog at Trowa’s feet. His own Nataku was a premier German Shepherd, and very picky about who she would mate with. Judging from her past experiences, however, he had a feeling that King would meet her very exacting standards. “A beautiful dog, Mr. Barton.” “Thank you,” Trowa returned quietly. “King’s a war dog, Wufei,” Duo murmured. “And he’s a little confused on who’s the enemy and who isn’t. Now, I thought it might be a good idea to introduce him to all your guys so they don’t get torn into if they run across King later.” Wufei arched a brow. “Your concern for our well being is overwhelming, Maxwell.” Duo just grinned at him. Trowa sank next to his dog, motioning for Wufei to do the same. “King?” The dog whined a little, eyes alert and curious. “This man is a commanding officer, understand? Friend. Ally. You are to trust him.” At Trowa’s nod of encouragement, Wufei held out a hand in offering. King sniffed suspiciously, then drew back and barked. If Duo hadn’t known better, he could have sworn the dog had said ‘got it!’ Duo stared at King incredulously. “That’s it? That’s all you have to do?” Trowa couldn’t help the proud smile on his face. “You said it yourself, Duo. He’s a smart dog.” “Yeah, but…I was expecting a lot more than that!” He gave a glance at Wufei, not at all surprised to see the intense interest on the man’s face. “Uh-huh, I can see it from here. You want to mate him with Nataku, don’t you?” Wufei smiled slightly. “You have to admit, we’d get exceptional puppies from it.” Duo caught the ‘huh?’ expression on Trowa’s face and sought to explain. “Wufei has a German Shepherd as well named Nataku. Really beautiful and intelligent dog, but she’s also very picky about who she’ll mate with. I think she would like King, though.” Wufei nodded thoughtfully. “Judging from past experience, King measures up to her standards. If you find yourself interested, Mr. Barton, then by all means tell me.” Trowa gave King a glance, thinking it through. It would be nice to have a puppy from King. And Quatre always claimed that if Trowa ever bred King, then he wanted a puppy. “Tell me when she comes into season. I think I will—on the condition that I can have the pick of two puppies.” “Two?” Wufei inquired with an arched eyebrow. “A friend of mine once made me promise to give him a puppy if I ever bred King.” “Ah. Alright, I think I can promise that. Shall we introduce him to the rest of my men?” They made the rounds with all of the men at the station, and Duo made a mental note of which ones were on patrol so he could introduce them later. At lunch they sat outside and ate sub sandwiches from the quick mart across the street. King sat next to his master, eyes following his every moment, and shifting every other second. Duo eyed the dog in askance. “Ah…Trowa? Does he normally do that?” “Only when he knows I have roast beef and I’m not sharing.” Duo shook his head, went back into the store, and come out with a half pound of roast beef. He barely sat it on the ground before King tore into it. “Geez!” He snatched his hands out of the way, watching as the dog just vacuumed it down. “Did he even taste that as it went down?” Trowa smiled, eyes dancing. “Probably. Congratulations, Duo. You are now his friend for life.” King reinforced this statement by leaning into Duo’s leg and looking up at him with his heart in his eyes. In bemusement he stroked the back of King’s ears, which meant the back of his leg was beaten with a happy tail. “Roast beef…the one thing I didn’t feed you. Figures. Well, the guys should all be down there now. Let’s go back and introduce him, then I unfortunately have to go back to work.” “I do as well,” Trowa admitted. “If you don’t have other plans, how about I feed you dinner tonight?” Duo looked up at him sharply. =Is he coming onto me? Or is it just wishful thinking?= “Sure. I only cook as a matter of survival so I’m always willing to let someone else feed me. What time?” “Six?” “Hm…doable. Should I bring anything?” “Yourself,” Trowa told him dryly. “That, I think I can manage.” + Trowa came back from the police station feeling a little dazed. He’d been dazed since that first meeting with Duo, but it was more prevalent now. For the first time in his life, he’d asked a highly attractive and charming man over for dinner—and it had been accepted. Should he be happy or worried? Trowa was *not* a people person by a long stretch of the imagination and he just knew that at some point in the evening he was going to say something stupid and make a hash out of everything. The only prayer he had was that Duo possessed a talent for putting him at ease. Maybe he should call Quatre for advice though, just in case. Trowa stopped dead in the middle of the path, head falling back to look at lazy clouds drifting in the sky. “I’m panicking,” he muttered to himself in disgust. King shifted next to him, looking up with an inquisitive cock of the head. “King, you know how bad I am around attractive men. Why didn’t you stop me?” The dog (wisely) chose not to respond beyond a brief wag of the tail. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot—you like Duo too. You don’t care if your master makes an absolute ass of himself.” Gah. Okay, so he wasn’t going to call Quatre. He could do this himself. (Besides, if he did call and ask for advice, the blond was sure to call later demanding details of how things went. Trowa wanted to spare himself that little interrogation.) “Okay King, let’s get home. I’ve got to figure out what the hell I can make from whatever groceries we have and you’d better pray it turns out alright.” If it didn’t, Trowa was going to stuff himself into the gigantic freezer in his basement. The sub-arctic temperatures would teach his overactive hormones to not run away with his mouth. + Duo was a little nervous about dinner. He wasn’t sure if he should show up in just jeans and a t-shirt, or go up a little. Either way, if he didn’t guess right, he was bound to feel a little stupid. He compromised on nice pair of jeans and button up shirt that could pass for casual. When dressed he gave himself a thorough perusal in the mirror—yup, his chestnut hair still had a mind of it’s own, but at least it wasn’t trying to stick straight up like it did in the mornings. And his eyes actually looked somewhat appealing because of his blue shirt—usually they looked like a violet/blue, which made several people swear he was wearing special contacts. =How is it that my sister has the exact same coloring and looks gorgeous, and I look like a plain Joe? Of course, she wears tons of make-up and that probably has something to do with it…= Alas, he could not follow her example. Sometimes being a guy had drawbacks. He walked down at ten till six to Trowa’s house. The sun was just beginning to disappear over the horizon when he knocked on the door. There was the sound of happy barking—ah, apparently King was inside—then the door opened. “Hi—uh—King?” Even as he leaned down to pet King, he looked around in confusion. The door was open, but Trowa wasn’t in sight. Oookay. Walking inside, he shut the door and gave it a glance. Judging from the extensive amounts of teeth marks and dog slobber…King was trained to open doors. “In here, Duo!” Duo walked the rest of the way into the house, rounding the bend and entering the kitchen. “King can actually open normal doors?” “Why do you think I have a padlock on his fence? It’s the only thing he doesn’t know how to open.” Trowa gave a shrug as he turned away from the stove to give Duo an once-over and welcoming smile. “Dinner is going to need another minute—the chicken refused to defrost for some reason. You’re welcome to take a seat and keep me company while I finish up.” Duo hopped up onto a barstool and gave a look around. Mahogany cabinets, wood floors, a modern color scheme—the house had been here for twenty years, but apparently Trowa had been doing a lot of remodeling. The place looked good. “Okay, I’m really curious. Trowa is French, right?” “Right.” “Well, you are a bit tall for the normal Frenchman.” Not that he was complaining or anything. Trowa had a really nice build. “Half,” Trowa admitted easily. “My father is an American. He met my mother on tour, they fell in love and got married, had me, divorced two years later—typical GI story. What about you?” “Oh I’m boring,” Duo assured him brightly. “I was born in Chattanooga, raised on this mountain, went to college out west—a vital mistake, I hated it out there—and came back here to start working. I did have the good sense to buy a house and get a job on the other side of the mountain of my parents, otherwise I’m sure I’d have gone insane by now.” Trowa quirked an eyebrow at him, still stirring whatever it was on the stove he was cooking. The smell alone would make a man hungry. “That’s a very interesting statement.” “My dad isn’t that bad,” Duo admitted. “But my mom is a control freak, and dad gives into her. She wanted me to just live with them—she claimed it was cheaper that way and she was worried about my bad living habits. I’ve been living in my house two years and to this day she drops by at least once a week to make sure I haven’t burned the place down.” Trowa shook his head, removing the skillet from the stove and flipping the burner off. “That would drive me crazy. My dad was a different kind of parent—as long as I didn’t kill myself, or max out any credit cards, he didn’t really care what I did.” Duo considered this for a moment. “Can we trade parents? Please?” “No way!” Trowa laughed. “Darnit.” =I think I’m in trouble. Just one laugh, and I’m addicted to the sound.= He distracted himself by changing subjects. “I like what you did with the place—it was really different before you moved in.” Trowa removed the skillet from the stove while cocking an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been in here before?” “Yup. It was ah…frillier when Ms. Johnson owned it.” “I think ‘frillier’ covers it,” Trowa acknowledged with a roll of the eyes. “I mean, who paints a bathroom pink?” “You have to understand, this is a woman that owned a Pepto-Bismol pink *Mustang*. I do not put pink bathrooms beyond her.” Trowa cringed even as he poured the gravy he had been stirring into a small gravy bowl. “She did that to a *Mustang*?” “That was all of our reactions precisely. I’ve never met a more girly-feminine woman, and I hope to heaven I never do so again. Trowa, that smell is driving me crazy, just what are you cooking?” “The typical southern meal—fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans.” “…whenever I don’t feel like cooking, I’m definitely coming here.” Trowa chuckled and started moving food to where it was easy access on the bar. Duo felt himself drooling over the food as it was put in front of him. Man oh man, it had been ages since he had seen an actual home cooked meal. When he finally had his plate loaded up, he dug in with a sigh of pure bliss. “Ambrosia. Sheer ambrosia.” “I thought you said your mother was on the other side of the mountain…?” Trowa was watching him, expression mixed with amusement and smugness. “I did. That doesn’t mean she knows how to cook. The only people in my family that can cook are my sisters—and they learned as a matter of survival.” Duo bit into the chicken and hummed happily, munching away. And to think this man was a computer geek. Cooking like this, he should be a chef. King wriggled his way between their legs and the bar stools, whining pitifully. Trowa rolled his eyes and finished off his chicken leg in two quick bites before handing the bone down to the Shepherd. King immediately dropped to his belly so that he could gnaw on his new bone. “Even King agrees with me,” Duo noted. “King eats anything that doesn’t crawl away first—and puts up a fight doing it.” The Shepherd moved his head to rest on Duo’s thigh. He was fairly sure that both humans had chicken—and Duo wasn’t sharing. He whined pitifully, trying to convince the other human that he hadn’t been fed in *days* and was wasting away in starvation. Duo rolled his eyes and passed down one of the bones, which was promptly snatched and happily gnawed on. “So out of curiosity, why did you choose to move here? I mean, we’re not exactly technologically advanced on Lookout Mountain.” “Well…I stayed a summer with Heero at one point up in the mountains. I really fell in love with it, and decided that when I got out of the army I’d move up in the mountains somewhere. This place is gorgeous so I just…moved in.” “Considering that this is my hometown…I’m prejudiced enough to agree with you.” Duo popped the last mouthful of potatoes into his mouth with near orgasmic pleasure written over his face. Trowa had a slight smile on his face as he offered, “Seconds?” “Please and thank you.” Duo heaped some more food on his plate and dug back in with relish. King, at his feet, started whining as soon as he put chicken into his mouth. “What, does he have radar?” “It would not surprise me in the slightest.” Trowa slipped a chicken bone down underneath the surface for his dog, which King promptly snatched from his hand. “Is it really true that everyone in the south is related to everyone else, or is that just a fabrication?” “Nope, it’s practically true. The only person that I *wasn’t* related to in high school was my English teacher—and that’s because she’s a transplant. Of course, that was before Wufei moved in.” “Transplant?” Trowa echoed in amusement. “Yup. Born in Boston, if my memory serves.” Duo shrugged. “It’s not really that bad. Most of the time I just run into fifth or sixth cousins. If we weren’t so family conscious down here, you’d probably be completely ignorant of any relation.” “But how do you know? Really?” “Really? Well, we love to tell stories on our crazy relatives. And if you’re old school, then part of the introduction process when you visit someone else’s home is doing a little family tree comparing, just to see if you *are* related.” “That’s…different.” Trowa paused, a memory of two weeks ago coming slowly back to him. “I see…it does explain a lot about certain conversations I’ve had, though. I kept wondering what people were getting at.” “That was probably part of it,” Duo acknowledged. He deliberately focused on his plate before adding, “But that’s not the whole of it. I can guarantee you that every female in a four hundred mile radius knows that there’s a single, good-looking male that has his own house and makes a fabulous living. They’re digging for dirt too.” Trowa blinked at him. “Fabulous living? Duo, I’m just a computer geek.” “Dude, do you know how many people are computer literate down here? Maybe five percent of the population. I kid you not. Most of them don’t know how to turn a computer on. You probably make double what everyone else makes around here. Believe me, the girls are going to be all over you like bees on honey.” He looked a little panicked hearing that. “…that’s not reassuring.” “Wasn’t meant to be.” Duo cleared up the last of his plate with a smile of satisfaction. “So, want to watch a movie?” ~*~*~ Honor: Everything I’m putting in here about the South is absolutely true. Just FYI.
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