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"When Love Bites Back "Written By: Hemlock Inyx Disclaimer: This chick does not own any of the
Gundam Wing characters because they belong to Bandai and Sunrise.
I am borrowing them for this fict and will return them in good (if
somewhat sticky) condition.This fict is written out of love and not
for profit, don't sue. Thanks and enjoy! Rating: NC 17 Warnings: yaoi, lemon, alternate universe, vampires,
violence, suicide, mild-ooc Pairings: 2x5, past: 1x5, 2xH, 2x3 Summary: He wanted one taste of passion… Duo Maxwell’s sexy voice seduced him every night with his late-night radio talk show. So Chang Wufei couldn’t pass up the chance to be his personal assistant—despite Duo’s insistence that he was a vampire. Vampires didn’t wear faded jeans. And they were dark and brooding, not vibrant and fun. Yet…with one glance of his silver violet eyes, Duo could hypnotize him. With one nibble of his passionate lips, he could bend him to his will. Duo insisted Wufei had nothing to fear from him. But why then was Wufei so conscious of his exposed neck?
" When Love Bites Back "
"Good eve-n-ing. This is Duo Maxwell, your one and only Shinigami, God of Death. If you've just tuned in, fellow vampires and insomniacs, our topic tonight is night frights. What scares you when the lights go out? Give me a call, creatures of the IV. Tell us what gives you the creepy-crawlies." Maxwell's rich voice poured through the overhead speakers like smooth, dark honey. Wufei paused midway across the lobby of station WRD--"88.7 on your radio dial"--and listened. All radio hosts had appealing voices, but not all could reach through the wires and seduce their listeners. Feeling Duo Maxwell's voice wrap around him like sweet, dark smoke, an absurd impression seized Wufei that Maxwell was speaking solely to him, whispering intimate comments for his ears alone. No wonder Duo Maxwell had the highest-rated and most-talked-about radio show in the Denver area. With a voice like his, Wufei suspected Maxwell's audience would have been equally enthralled if he'd merely read aloud the operating instructions for his toaster. He gave his head a small shake to clear his thoughts. After nodding to a receptionist seated across the lobby, he walked toward a vinyl-cushioned sofa and inspected the double row of photographs above it. "If you're looking for Duo's photograph, you won't find it," the receptionist called, setting aside a copy of People. She grinned. "Vampires can't be photographed, remember?" Wufei could think of no response to that remark. Trying not to be obvious, he checked his appearance in the reflection glancing off one of the glass-framed photographs. Snowflakes glistened in his black hair, melting and causing the tiny hairs that had escaped the tight tail to curl toward his cheeks. His oval face looked winter pale in the reflection and he wondered if he should have chosen a brighter tie. Not red, of course; red wouldn't be appropriate for a job interview, not appropriate for any occasion that Wufei could think of, actually. He glanced at the receptionist who didn't share his prejudice against crimson. "Mr. Maxwell carries the vampire persona that far? He won't permit photographs?" "You should have heard the furor when the Denver Post photographed Duo at a charity ball. The station manager moved the earth to kill that photo. Hey, the vampire thing works for him. Duo's show pulls the highest ratings in Colorado." "I guess there's no accounting for public taste." Instantly the receptionist's demeanour cooled and Wufei realised he'd committed a tactless blunder. A slight flush brightened his cheekbones. "So what can I do for you?" the receptionist asked. Wufei approached the desk, conscious of his shoes tapping across the tiled floor like exclamation points, punctuating the flow of words whispering out of the speaker system. Someone calling himself Icabod was relating an encounter with a ghost. The receptionist's cool expectant gaze lifted to Wufei's face. "So...?" "I have an appointment with Mr. Maxwell at two o'clock." Suppressing a sigh, Wufei glanced at the bank of clock faces behind the receptionist. Someone had pasted a cut-out of a chubby Buddha over the clock tracking the time in Hong Kong. In Denver, it was ten minutes till two. Summoning a smile, he attempted to repair the chilly damage caused by his earlier comment. "Does Mr. Maxwell always schedule interviews for the middle of the night?" The receptionist inspected Wufei's wool business suit and high-necked white shirt, his neatly pulled back hair and glasses perched on his nose. "You're here to apply for the assistant's job?" she inquired, thawing a little. Wufei nodded, resisting an urge to stare in disbelief at the clock faces. It staggered him to realise that he had actually agreed to an interview at two in the morning. The yawn that had been tickling his throat since midnight threatened to overwhelm him. His eyelids felt heavy. If he didn't keep talking, it was possible he'd fall asleep on his feet. "Did you have many responses to the ad?" The receptionist flipped back her hair and smiled. "You're
the only one who agreed to an interview at this hour." "What's Maxwell like?" he asked, prudently rephrasing the question he really wanted to ask. A dreamy look drifted over the receptionist's heavily made up eyes. "He's wonderful," she said, drawing the words into a long wistful purr. "He can bite my neck anytime he wants to." "I mean, to work with." A clatter sounded from the tiled hallway that opened off the lobby and Wufei turned toward the noise. "That will be Duo," the receptionist said, laughing. "He's signed off." Hastily, she patted her hair and tugged her sweater over ample breasts. A skateboard shot into the lobby. The man riding it leaned to one side, banked into a turn, then rocketed toward the desk. He jumped off a few feet from Wufei and caught the skateboard before it banged into his ankles. A pleased grin spread across his handsome face. "How about that, Candy babes? A perfect turn!" "Usually he crashes into the sofa," Candy explained, grinning. "Cruel woman. Hi! You must be Wufei Chang. I'm Duo Maxwell, and I'm entirely pleased to meet you." He thrust out his hand and grabbed Wufei's fingers, pumping his arm up and down in an enthusiastic shake. "What did you think of the show tonight? Did you hear that last caller and the headless ghost stuff?." He laughed and rolled sparkling violet eyes toward the ceiling. "Don't you love this business? Hey, is it still snowing outside? I'll get my coat, then we'll walk over to the Coffee Mug and I'll buy you a mocha latte to take the chill off. We'll talk there." Leaning forward, he peered into Wufei's startled face, then tapped a finger on his nose. "Stay put. Don't go away." He jumped on the skateboard and zoomed back the way he had come. Dumbfounded, Wufei stared after him. He felt as if a whirlwind had spun through the room, charging the air with electricity and rearranging the molecules. But Duo Maxwell’s startling entrance made him rethink his first impression. If he was committed to convincing his listeners that he was a vampire, the pretence was a role reserved for the public. Here, he couldn't have looked less like the popular conception of a vampire. He'd never heard of a vampire clad in tight, faded jeans and a Broncos sweatshirt, or wearing a WRD baseball cap with a long braid swinging out the hole in the back of the cap. He also wore scruffy tennis shoes and a small gold hoop in his right ear. "You should see him in his vampire outfit," Candy said with a sigh. "He's gorgeous anytime but what that guy does for a tux and a cape ought to be outlawed." Wufei could imagine it. Despite his braid and earring, Duo Maxwell was simply the most magnificently handsome man he had ever seen. Still feeling slightly dazed by the exuberance of his sudden appearance, he stared at the spot where Duo had careened into the hallway. His hand tingled from his shake, and he continued to feel strange and fluttery inside from the moment when Maxwell had gazed into his eyes. That's what he remembered most from their brief whirlwind encounter--Maxwell's hypnotic eyes, dancing and sparkling like flashes of electric violet crystal. "You know who he reminds me of?.'' Candy murmured. "A long, haired Mel Gibson. Duo is so exciting, so--" she searched for the right word "-alive! He smoulders with sexuality. He's so connected to everything and everyone around him!" This time Maxwell appeared quietly. One minute he wasn't in the lobby; the next minute ho was standing right behind Wufei, taking his coat from his arm. His appearance was so sudden and silent that Wufei's heart leapt into his throat and he jumped. "Sorry if I startled you" Talking all the while, he helped him on with his coat, then blew a kiss at Candy. "You look terrific tonight! If that boyfriend of yours isn't treating you right, you let me know." Candy beamed at him and wiggled her fingers in a coy wave. "See you tomorrow." Taking Wufei's arm, he led him across the lobby and out into the cold night. Shoving his hands into the pockets of a leather jacket, Duo threw back his head and caught a snowflake on his tongue. "I love nights like this. Look how the light surrounds the street lamp like a halo. Beautiful! Early-spring storms are different from deep winter storms. You don't talk much, do you?" Wufei glanced up, noticing that Maxwell wasn't especially tall. Maybe five foot ten. In his shoes, he was only an inch or so shorter. This surprised him. Maxwell so thoroughly dominated his surroundings that he would have sworn he was well over six feet. "Actually, my fiancé complains that I talk too much," he said, noticing the snowflakes that clung to Duo's braid, sparkling like diamonds strewn down a dark chestnut waterfall. Duo grinned. "Then it's me. I'm always hyped after a good show. Did you hear any of it? One guy swore he can take photographs of ghosts. Do you think that's possible?'' "I don't have any idea," Wufei said, dipping his chin into his coat collar. The temperature was middle-of-the-night frigid although Maxwell's unzipped jacket indicated he didn't notice. Or maybe Wufei was shivering with nerves. He hated job interviews. "Here we are. I hope you like designer coffee. Are your feet cold? One of Sally's concoctions will warm you up." Duo held the door for him and they stepped into the fragrant warmth of the coffee shop, deserted at this time of night. The woman standing behind the counter broke into a wide smile. "Great show tonight!" Duo grabbed a sugar container, holding it like a microphone. "Riiiide! Sally Riiide!!" A wide grin illuminated his face. "Bring the gentleman a mocha latte and don't spare the whipped cream. I'll have one of those itty bitty cups of espresso. Do you want a muffin or a cinnamon roll?" he asked Wufei, reaching for his coat. "Just coffee, thanks." Which he was going to need to get through the upcoming interview. The heat in the shop flooded through his bones, sapping his energy and dragging at his eyelids. Wufei chose a seat facing away from the clock on the back wall. This was the lonely time of night; there was no one in the place except himself, Duo and Sally. The rest of the world was sound asleep, home in bed where Wufei wished he was. "Here you go." Sally placed a cup of espresso in front of Duo and served Wufei a frothy concoction that looked loaded with calories. While Wufei studied the mound of whipped cream, Sally removed an envelope from her apron pocket and handed it to Duo. "One of your weird pals left this for you." "Thanks." Duo nodded at the mocha latte. "Try that. You'll love it. Excuse me a sec, this may be important." He withdrew a folded note from the envelope, scanned it with a frown, then tucked it inside his coat pocket. "Sally, you sweet thing, would you mind calling me a cab?" He glanced at a Mickey Mouse wristwatch. "Have someone pick me up in an hour, okay?" "You got it." "Now then, let me look at you." Pushing aside the espresso, he folded his arms on the table and devoted his full attention to Wufei, falling silent for the first time. A tiny startled thrill raced down his spine. Duo Maxwell didn't just look at someone. He looked at someone. He really saw the shape of Wufei's face, his nose, his mouth. He had the uncomfortable impression that his beautiful hypnotic eyes gazed inside his mind and read his secrets. Not that he had any interesting secrets, well, one really… but being gay wasn't that big a deal anymore. Still, it was a disconcerting moment. "Why do you wear your hair like that?" "I beg your pardon?" Surprise lifted his eyebrows. He made a stirring motion with his forefinger. "You have it all pulled back in a severe little tail. I'm wondering what you'd look like with your hair down. You're an attractive man, but you seem intent on hiding it." Wufei stiffened. Maxwell had a lot of nerve criticising his hairdo when he was sitting there with a braid and an earring. Just because he was the closest thing to male perfection that Wufei had ever seen, that did not give him the right to criticise. It irritated Wufei that he experienced a sudden maddening compulsion to touch his hair. It was all he could do to keep his hands clasped in his lap. Oh, wait... did he just say I was attractive? "I think we should talk about the job," Wufei said sharply, eager to get back to a safer topic. Duo's voice dropped into the rich tones of a deejay and he sang a few lines from the old hit song "Get a Job". After glancing at Wufei, he laughed, sending a baritone wave rolling across the deserted coffee shop. "You have a whipped cream moustache." Mortified, Wufei grabbed his napkin and scrubbed it across his lips. A rush of embarrassment pulsed hotly in his cheeks. "Did I get it all?" It occurred to him that Duo might have been joking with him. "Mr. Chang--are you enjoying your life?" This was the strangest interview he had ever suffered through. "Excuse me? Is enjoying life a requisite for the job?" "Enjoying life is a requisite for being!" He spread his arms in an exuberant expansive gesture. "Every minute is precious and unique. Mortal life is very short. Are you enjoying every single second of your life, Mr. Chang? Are you embracing each new experience and wresting all you can from it? Are you doing all the things you ever wanted to do?" Wufei stared at him, wondering if he could read minds. "Look, it's two-thirty in the morning, I'm dead tired, I have a long day scheduled for tomorrow and I'm beginning to suspect that I've wasted your time and mine. I didn't drive across town in the middle of a snowy night to discuss my hair or my life-style. I came here to interview for a job!" "That's what we're doing," he said with a blink of surprise. "And may I say this flash of spirit is reassuring. I like that." He was the strangest and most fascinating man Wufei had met in a long, long time--overwhelming actually. Maxwell seemed to resonate with an inner force that expanded to fill whatever environment he occupied. Everything about him was vibrantly, sizzlingly alive. Especially his eyes, the most beautiful eyes Wufei had ever seen on a man. Absurdly long lashed, and a luminous shade of violet that sparkled and danced, teased and challenged. His eyes matched his voice, seductive and rich with a joie de vivre that pulled everyone around him into his orbit. Including Wufei. The powerful sexiness of his physical vitality startled him and made him feel acutely uncomfortable. As if he wasn't uneasy enough. Wufei drew a small breath and made himself look away from Duo's appraising gaze. It was not like him to think about sex mere minutes after meeting a man. He was positive that twin fires of embarrassment and discomfort burned on his cheeks. "What exactly are you looking for, Mr. Maxwell? What duties would be involved?" His hot cheeks seemed to fascinate Duo. "That's easy. I need a new Renfield." "A Renfield?" Wufei repeated, frowning. "What's a Renfield?" He smiled and Wufei swallowed an involuntary gasp. He really was a stunningly handsome man. And he did look a little like Mel Gibson. Frowning, he tried to recall if he had ever before thought a man wearing a baseball cap and an earring was attractive, or even appealing. "Every self-respecting vampire has an assistant named Renfield. Bram Stoker started the custom in his book, Dracula. Now, it's practically a rule. Don't you know anything about vampires?" "Not much," Wufei admitted, making a face. "Who does?" "Actually a lot of people think they do. Of course, most of the stuff they think they know is wrong. But it is true that vampires need a mortal assistant. A Renfield." A sinking sensation opened in the pit of Wufei's stomach. He might be wearing an unvampirelike orange sweatshirt and like to rocket around on a skateboard, but he'd been correct in his first impression. Duo Maxwell was a little unhinged. "What exactly does a Renfield do?" "Everything." "Could you be more specific?" "I'd want you to handle my finances, business dealings and organization work. You'd be in charge of making sure my house runs smoothly. You know, overseeing the maid service, taking my clothes to the laundry or cleaners, scheduling the pool service and the lawn-care people, arranging for any repairs that might be necessary. You would deal with the mail, keep track of my appointments, publicity appearances--things like that. When I have guests--which is frequently--I'd expect you to see to their comfort. Whatever I need to have done, I'd want you to do. Like I said… everything." Wufei considered. "You're not looking for an assistant, Mr. Maxwell," he said finally. "You're looking for a wife." Instantly Duo's smile vanished and an unidentifiable expression flooded into his eyes. "Believe me, Renfield," he said softly, "I'm not looking for a wife." Something in his tone and expression made Wufei feel that he had intruded. He waited a full minute before speaking again. "If I accept this job, are you going to insist on calling me Renfield?" "Yes." "You're joking!" "I'm afraid not." "I'm not sure how I feel about that." For one thing, assigning him a name was unbelievably arrogant. For another, it was distancing and diminished him as a person in his own right. Finally Wufei thought about his grandmother Chang who had had six teacup poodles, all named Sugar. When one Sugar went to poodle heaven, another Sugar appeared a few days later. As far as Grandma Chang was concerned, the poodles were interchangeable. "What happened to your last Renfield?" "He was a mortal. He died." "He was a mortal," Wufei repeated, staring at him. Maxwell was absolutely entrenched in his vampire radio persona. Duo lifted his arm, pushed back the cuff of his sweatshirt and glanced at the Mickey Mouse watch, then outside. "Your hours will be long and utterly unreasonable, I'd expect you to be on the job from sunrise to sunset. When I have evening guests, I might ask you to act as host for a few hours." Wufei blinked. "That's at least a twelve-hour day!" "During the summer it could run even longer. That's why I'd prefer that you live in my house." He studied him for a long moment. "Since you’re male, like my previous Renfield, living on premises would be a requirement." "You expect me to live with you?" Wufei's voice spiralled into a thin strand of disbelief. "It would be more convenient for both of us, especially since you'll be working at the house. You'd have your own apartment, of course, which I think you'll find comfortable." "That's out of the question." Wufei stared into his luminous violet eyes. It was difficult to look away, but he finally managed it and leaned back in his chair. "You don't even realise what you're asking, do you? You think these requirements are reasonable!" A puzzled look disturbed Duo's brow. "None of the previous Renfields complained." "Look, I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work. Frankly, I don't think you're going to find anyone who's willing to put in a twelve- or thirteen-hour day and live on premises. Hours like that don't leave any time for a personal life." Wufei spread his hands. "Imagine trying to explain to my fiancé that I'm moving into your house to work from sunrise through half the night. Heero would never understand. To be honest, I don't, either." "Well, look at it from my point of view, Renfield," he said, rubbing the gold earring between his fingers. "If you were dead asleep during the daylight hours, wouldn't you want someone on duty to see that the house doesn't catch fire? Someone to watch over things? As for the sunrise-to-sunset requirement, believe me, I'd a hell of a lot rather have winter hours all year around, but that isn't how the 'ole world spins. If it helps any, the calendar evens out. You'll have short days during the winter months, longer days during summer months." "Are you saying that you sleep all day? Twelve hours or more in the summer?" "I haven't personally tested the theory, you understand, but there's a nasty rumour that sunlight kills vampires. And pretty horribly, too, if you believe Hollywood's version." An exaggerated shudder rippled over his muscular frame. "So, yes, I stay tucked away in a windowless room in the basement during daylight hours. Seems safer that way, don't you agree?" "You honestly never go out in the sun?" The thought raised unpleasant childhood memories. "I think you're carrying this vampire identification too far," Wufei said finally. "It isn't healthy." His radio persona was taking over his life. If he hadn't been a wildly successful late-night talk-show host, he probably would have been certifiable. "Renfield, you aren't getting the picture here. I don't have a choice. I'm a bona fide vampire." A dazzling smile accompanied his claim. "Does the radio station make you maintain this pretence even when you're off the air?" "It's good publicity, but I behave like a vampire because I am a vampire." Duo's smile widened. "You don't believe that, and I guess I don't expect you to. Not yet." He leaned across the table like he was speaking in strictest confidence. "I'm hiding in plain sight. The radio persona is a perfect cover. If someone accused me of being a real vampire, the world would think the 'proof' was just a publicity stunt for the radio." Wufei frowned. "Do I understand this? You think you're a real vampire?" He nodded, beaming. "Obviously, I don't usually confide the truth. But you, as the new Renfield, have to know." "Excuse me for asking, but have you considered seeing a shrink?" "And risk getting depressed or turned into one of those brooding apologetic-type vampires? Not on your life! I'm well adjusted and enjoying myself, and I mean to stay that way." He scooted his chair to face the counter. "Sally! My kingdom for a cab!" The bright overhead lights spun streaks of caramel down his swinging ponytail, glinted off the gold in his ear. "The cab's on its way, Shinigami." "God of Death," he explained to Wufei with a pleased smile. "Actually I'm only a lowly Demon, but Demon of Death doesn't have the same ring. How much money did you make on your last job? You worked for an accounting firm, right?" "I made..." Wufei hesitated then remembered Heero's advice and inflated the truth a little. "Thirty-eight thousand a year." "I'll start you at fifty-five thousand." When Wufei gasped, he smiled. "By the end of summer you'll swear you're underpaid." Standing, he dropped some bills on the table and glanced out of the window as a cab pulled up to the curb. "One last thing. This fiancé of yours... Take my advice and give him the old heave-ho." Wufei's mouth dropped open. "What?" The light shimmered around him as if shining from within. Maxwell almost crackled with electric vibrancy. "For starters, I have a feeling you haven't done much living, yet. Why tie yourself down before you've tested your wings?" "Actually," Wufei said in astonishment, "I've been thinking along those very--" He bit off the words and frowned. His personal life was none of Duo's business. Wait… did I tell him I was gay? But how did he…? "Plus, your fiancé is dull and predictable, isn't he? I'll bet he has your whole life planned right down to where and when the two of you will eventually retire. Do you want to sleepwalk through your life, Renfield? Is that what you want? Don't you ever feel like grabbing the world and shaking out new experiences? When was the last time you hopped on a skateboard? When was the last time you did something impulsive or thrilling or even a little frightening?'' "You don't even know Heero!" "All I have to do is look at you to know him." He tilted his head, the braid swinging, and studied Wufei with sparkling eyes that underscored his conservative wool suit and severe hairstyle. "Ah, Renfield. Is there fire beneath that frosty, uptight exterior? Have you ever let it burn?" For the first time in years Wufei was actually stammering. "I... you... you have one hell of a nerve, mister!" "That I do," he said, laughing. "Hold out your hands, palm up." "What?" How many times tonight had he gasped that word? "Your hands. Turn them palm up on the table." He scribbled an address on a napkin then picked up the salt-and-pepper shakers. "If you want the job, meet me at my house tomorrow night at seven o'clock. Directions are on the napkin." Leaning toward Wufei, he placed a saltshaker on one of his palms and a pepper shaker on the other. Feeling like an idiot, Wufei blinked at the shakers sitting on his palms. "What is... Why did... ?" "That's Heero," he said, pointing to the salt. "Dull, unexciting, an element you don't need. The pepper is you. Sharp, spicy and full of surprises. Except you don't know it." He laughed at Wufei's expression then waved to Sally and be-bopped to the door. "Sally! See you tomorrow night, sweet thing." Sally grinned and waved as the door closed behind him. When Wufei turned his face to the window, Duo was standing in front of the glass looking in at him. He threw back his head, pounded his chest and released a ringing Tarzan yell that he could hear inside. "Because it feels good," he explained, mouthing the words carefully so Wufei could make them out. Then he jumped into the cab and disappeared into a fall of spring snowflakes. Wufei blinked at the stupid salt-and-pepper shakers resting on his palms. He glanced up Sally with a helpless wince. "I feel like I've been hit by an avalanche," he whispered. "Is he always like that?" At least he no longer felt sleepy. He'd never felt more wide-awake in his life. "Even weirder," Sally said with a laugh. "But then, what can we expect? Vampires aren't like us, you know." "You don't really believe that Duo Maxwell is a vampire?" Sally sighed. "Well, no. I guess he can't be." They both looked toward the snowflakes sliding down the windowpane. "Everyone knows that vampires are scary. They aren't sexy and fun to be with. Hell, if vampires were like Shinigami, we'd all be lined up wanting to be one." Wufei replaced the salt-and-pepper shakers, then absently reached for Duo's untouched espresso. He sipped the coffee, not caring that it was no longer hot. The last thing he wanted to do was work for a nut case. Moreover, a nut case for whom he felt an odd and utterly inexplicable attraction. But fifty-five thousand a year would make a huge difference in his life. He could save enough to do some of the things he had always wanted to do. Cupping his chin in his palm, Wufei frowned out the window at the snowy night. What was he going to do? And how would he explain it to Heero? As long as he was asking himself questions, what was he going to do about Heero? ~ * ~
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