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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 "
Chapter 8 Because Wufei was familiar with Duo's current financial affairs and curious as to how he had amassed his fortune, he opened the file on his financial history first. It made fascinating reading. He found copies of death certificates and wills, was able to track how the Blanc et Cie's attorneys had passed Duo's growing fortune to his son or grandson, whoever he decided to be. The last entry was dated four years ago and reflected unmistakable bitterness that Duo had transferred his financial empire to a Manhattan investment bank. The correspondence shocked him; it was almost threatening. At midnight Wufei took a break, made sure that he was alone in the house-a recent habit-then fixed himself a snack before he returned to his office. After turning on the radio, he sat in one of the wing chairs to relax the tension in his shoulders and neck, and nibbled at a plate of fruit and cheese. Duo's seductive voice flowed from the speakers like dark honey, causing a tiny thrill of goose bumps to rise on his skin. Although Wufei remembered he was wearing tight jeans, a Rockies sweatshirt and his baseball cap turned backward, his smoky voice conjured images of fog swirling around a caped figure with beguiling hypnotic eyes and pale luminous skin. The dark eroticism of the mental image made Wufei's knees go weak. "Before we take the next call, I have a few late-night messages to deliver. George, Maggie loves you. B-Bod, call your sister. Bill and Bruce want to take Lucille to lunch. P.G. should wait at the Coffee Mug." There was a slight pause. "Sleep tight, Renfield. Dream of good health and sunshiny days. You're safe and protected from the terrors of the night." Wufei smiled. As summer approached, his workday began earlier and earlier. Usually he didn't stay up late enough to hear the last half of Duo's show. He wondered if he sent him a message every night that he didn't hear. A yawn reminded him that he ought to be in bed now. But it would have required a saint to turn off the computer without at least taking a peek at Duo's personal file. "One quick scan, then I'll go to bed," he promised himself as he returned to his desk. But it was after four in the morning before he pushed away from the computer, closed the pages of a medical research book and fell back in his chair, dazed.
DUO MAXWELL HAD BEEN born in the outskirts of Paris in 1785, during the reign of King Louis XVI. Both his aristocratic parents and an older brother later died on the guillotine during the Reign of Terror following the French Revolution. At age twenty, now citizen Maxwell, virtually penniless, and while struggling to complete law school, Duo had married the daughter of a landowner, a young woman named Hilde. Fascinated, Wufei leaned toward the screen. From what he could glean, Duo and Hilde's marriage had been stormy. The young couple had fought about politics, living quarters, finances, friends--everything. Yet it seemed they had loved each other. At least in the beginning. During their first few years of marriage, Hilde had suffered two miscarriages. Leaning back from the computer, Wufei ground his teeth against a sudden surge of jealousy. Images of Duo holding and kissing his young wife spun in his mind. The scenes of lovemaking were so vivid, they were painful. And embarrassing. What kind of idiot was jealous of a woman who had been dead well over a century? Shaking his head, still churning inside, Wufei pushed the upsetting images away and leaned again to the computer screen. In 1805, Duo's eyesight began to fail, a devastating disability for a man who made his living researching law tomes and preparing closely written briefs. He began a desperate five-year search for something or someone who could halt the deterioration of his eyesight. But doctor after doctor could offer no hope, could do nothing to restore his narrowing vision or halt the progression of the disease that was stealing his eyesight. Frightened and desperate., Duo sold the last of his family heirlooms to Finance a journey to England to consult a world-renowned oculist. There, Dr. Edwin Roberts diagnosed Duo's condition as what would later be known as retinitis pigmentosa, a chronic progressive degeneration of the retinas. There was no cure. Total blindness was inevitable. Shortly after the fruitless journey to England, destitute and despairing, Duo met Dorothy Catalonia. The bank's file reported the development of a whirlwind affair, but Wufei didn't need to read the details to understand why Duo had surrendered to Dorothy's charms. His heart ached as he imagined how the threat of blindness must have affected this vital, vibrant man who took such joy in his surroundings, who noticed every small thing, around him. At age twenty-five, it must have devastated Duo to look ahead at years of total darkness, isolated from books and art and the world he loved. He would have viewed Dorothy and the vampire health she offered as a miracle, a godsend. The file continued, detailing the highpoints of Duo's long life. Hilde reappeared only as a line of type mentioning that she had died at age sixty-two. If there had been other important men or women in Duo's life, and surely there must have been, the file did not mention them. The remainder of the pages were devoted to Duo's growing influence within the vampire community, his espousal of radical new ideas, an excruciatingly detailed account of his support for the fledgling IV and his eventual rise within the organization culminating in his election to president. After rereading the file, Wufei spent an hour in Duo's library, searching the shelves until he found the medical texts he had guessed he would own. With shaking fingers he turned the pages, reading everything he could find on retinitis pigmentosa, cross-referencing the information from one tome to another. Retinitis pigmentosa had been incurable in 1815, and it was incurable today. Ironically, present-day theory suggested that excessive light might contribute to the disease. Doctors now prescribed dark contact lens, hoping to slow the eventual onset of blindness. But blindness was inevitable. Now Wufei understood why Duo had no interest whatsoever in finding the Crystals of Change for himself. He understood why mortality frightened him. If Duo were to regain his mortality, it would be at the cost of his eyesight. He would go blind. * * * * * * * Whistling beneath his breath, Duo entered the house with a jaunty step, listening as his houseguest, the baroness, gossiped about acquaintances they shared in common. Cathy, as she preferred to be called, had stayed with him before, had in fact, helped design the basement lairs to ensure every possible comfort. Of the same vintage as Duo, Catherine Bloom continued to dine out on the fact that once she had been Napoleon Bonaparte's favorite mistress. Whenever Duo gazed at her pale aristocratic beauty or fell beneath the spell of her charm, he could understand why she had captivated the emperor. Cathy had come of age in an era when nuance was all. Her lovely eyes didn't miss much, nor did she overlook the slightest variance in tone. While they closed Denver's late-night dubs, she had teased him mercilessly about his new Renfield. "Ah," she murmured, touching his arm and nodding toward the light shining beneath Renfield's office door. "Your onyx-eyed paragon waits up for you." A knowing smile curved her lips. "Excellent. If you promise no obvious matchmaking, I'll introduce you." "Non, cheri. The hour grows late. Why waste the remaining minutes with introductions and polite chat when one could put the time to better use? Amour, mon ami. I remember it well." Duo grinned. "When has Cathy Bloom ever been without a lover or a host of admirers?" In days of old she would have covered her smile with a charming flick of her fan. "The men are so wonderful in this day and age," she murmured. "How can one resist them?" Duo laughed, then kissed her forehead. "Always the romantic." But deep sadness appeared in the depths of his eyes when he glanced toward Renfield's office. "He's a mortal, Cathy. You know that never works." She placed cool fingertips against his cheek. "Nothing but life is lasting for us, cheri. This you must accept. Relationships with mortals are necessarily fleeting, but we must take our pleasures where we find them." "Is that fair to the mortal? A man like Renfield deserves more than a fleeting passion," he said gruffly, pressing her hand. "He's very special. I don't want to hurt him." Cathy gazed into his eyes, then patted his cheek. "Poor Duo. The heart longs, but the head dictates. That is the true curse of our kind." "The lack of love is the curse of our kind," he corrected softly. "We outlive the mortals we love, and outlive any love for our own kind." "Eventually we outlive our emotions," Cathy whispered, a flash of anguish darkening her eyes, "and eventually we feel nothing at all. My teeth seldom extend anymore and sometimes I fear that I... but no, we shall leave that discussion to another time. Good night, dear friend." Duo watched her walk down the hallway toward the basement door and the guest lairs below. She moved with the style and refinement of a bygone age. Aside from Renfield, few people in today's world possessed Cathy's grace and effortless elegance. Turning into the second corridor, Duo approached Wufei's office and stuck his head in the door. "Hi. Did you rise early, or have you been up all night?" He knew the answer before he spoke. Shadows of fatigue bruised the delicate area beneath his lashes. His face was pallid and his hair tousled as if he had repeatedly pulled his fingers through it. He wore the same shirt and pants he had worn earlier in the evening. Then he spotted the medical text on his desk, and glimpsed Dr. Edwin Roberts's name glowing on the computer screen. To release the sudden tension that gripped his shoulders, he spun a cartwheel across the room, landing on his feet in front of the French windows. The tulips and daffodils in the garden gleamed like pastel jewels in the pale promise of false dawn. Without warning, something fierce and desperate exploded in his heart. Suddenly he yearned to see the flowers in bright sunlit colors, shimmering with morning dew. He craved the sight of true brilliant color, longed for it, ached for it. What he saw with his night-keen eyes was vivid and sharp, but muted in color, a weak and shadowy representation of daylight truth. Clenching his fists, he wet his lips and stared at the flowers. "You've been busy," he commented quietly, jerking his head to indicate the computer. "I have a thousand questions," Wufei murmured in a voice husky from lack of sleep. He drew a breath, then opened the subject Duo most dreaded discussing. "Were the doctors absolutely positive that you have retinitis pigmentosa? They couldn't have made a mistake?" "That isn't what they called it back then, but there's no mistake about the diagnosis." He paused, overwhelmed by remembered horror. A hundred and eighty years later, the memory of losing his eyesight continued to haunt him. "Now doctors know the disease is hereditary. Perhaps I sensed it even then. It was my greatest and continuing fear that I would end like my uncle Solo, blind, helpless, walled off in a world of darkness." He gazed into the night and almost laughed. He had exchanged one form of darkness for another. But this was infinitely better. Whatever unpleasantness vampirism demanded of him, it was a thousand times preferable to blindness. "Duo, I don't know what to say." He dropped his head in his hands. "I'm sorry." "It's a progressive disease," he explained, remembering. "First I lost night vision. Ironic, isn't it?" A humorless smile curved his lips. "Then my peripheral vision began to narrow drastically. By the time I sailed to England to consult Dr. Roberts, my side vision had narrowed to the extent that it was like peering through two straws." "And then you met Dorothy," Wufei whispered, observing him intently between the fingers covering his eyes. He nodded, watching a cat climb a tree a block away and thanking God that he could see it. "I'm sure you read what happened to my family. The state seized the Maxwell estate and everything my family owned. The same was true of Hilde's family. We had nothing but the pittance I earned in a law firm and a minuscule stipend from a distant aunt. Blind men were beggars in those days. There was no way to earn a living." A long pause developed before he forced himself to continue. "I lost my position with the law firm. Hilde was pregnant. And I was two months behind with the rent. I didn't know how I would put food on our table. We had no family to turn to. There were no assistance programs as there are today. It was the blackest period of my life." Devastating scenes flashed through his memory before he spoke again. He drew a breath and stared out at the shadowy garden. "Because I couldn't see, I accidentally stumbled in front of a carriage and was nearly killed. I lay there in the mud, one leg broken, and wept because I wasn't dead. Because my wife was hungry. Because my child would be born in the streets. Because I was useless to anyone." "Oh, God, Duo." "It was Dorothy's carriage that struck me. She took me to her estate to recover and..." He shrugged. "Two weeks later she offered the dark kiss and I seized the opportunity. I begged her to make me a vampire. I would have done anything-anything!-to save my wife and unborn child from the future that awaited them. You don't know what it was like in those days, Renfield. You can't even imagine. There were no safety nets. People died like--" He bit off the words and jerked away from the window. Caught in the darkness of memory, he paced the length of the room. Wufei watched with anxious eyes. "I destroyed Hilde as surely as if I had fired a gun at her breast. She would rather have watched me go blind than endure the pain of betrayal." "She was that selfish?" "She was young, Renfield, and in love." Pain and guilt furrowed his brow. "Love is selfish." "No," Wufei disagreed softly. "True love is selfless." He gazed at him for a long moment before resuming his story. "Hilde never understood the affair with Dorothy. Every night when I had to leave to--" he hesitated "-to find nourishment, she believed I was meeting other women. She hated what I had become even though our financial problems quickly disappeared. During the day I slept in the Paris catacombs, at night I prowled in search of nourishment. Our marriage floundered, Hilde blamed me for her last miscarriage and hated me when she learned there would be no more pregnancies. She refused to even discuss the possibility of becoming a vampire herself. And then--" he dragged a hand through his hair "--she began to age, And I didn't. Her hatred deepened to loathing." He lifted eyes tormented by memory. "In the end, she went mad. My wife died in an asylum for the insane." Wufei stood and quietly came to him, wrapping his arms around his waist, attempting to comfort him with his warmth and the strength of his silent compassion. Duo felt his heat against his body like a sheet of flame and he embraced him tightly in a futile attempt to draw his warmth inside of him. He held his so tightly that he could feel and hear his heart thudding against his chest, could smell the peachy fragrance of his skin and hair. "Forgive me," he murmured hoarsely, his lips against his temple. "This was all so long ago, but it..." Wufei eased back, his throat arching, and he raised a hand as if he intended to stroke his cheek. Then he gasped and froze. His eyes widened to the size of saucers and a shudder of horror and revulsion rocked his body. "Damn it!" Releasing him abruptly, Duo hastily covered his lips, feeling the elongated canines against his palm. Embarrassment tightened his shoulders. He knew he was scaring the hell out of Wufei. "Look, Ma, no cavities," he murmured weakly, trying to make a joke to ease Wufei's panic. And lisping while he did it. Damn it to hell anyway. "Duo?" he said in a small shaking voice, swallowing hard and staring at the hand covering his mouth. "We can't keep dodging this issue." His voice sank to an agitated croak. His hands shook so badly that he imagined the sound of bones rattling together. "Let me see." Wufei raised his hands toward his face, then dropped them. He closed his lashes, sucked in a breath, then lifted his chin in a brave little gesture of determination that broke Duo's heart. "Renfield, you're not ready for--" "Just do it! Let's get this over with!" Slowly he dropped his hand, watching him with narrowed apprehensive dread. He opened his eyes and stared, rocking back on his heels. "Oh my God! That's...that's just...hideous!" Turning, he bent away from him, holding his stomach. Duo didn't have the faintest idea what to say or what assurances he might offer. And because his reaction was so upsetting to him, his canines would not retract. Swearing, he strode around the room trying desperately to think of something unemotional, upsetting himself more in the process. When he discovered himself swearing in French, always a bad sign, he threw open the French doors and stepped outside, glaring at the lousy tulips and daffodils. He hoped the sun fried them to a black crisp. "Duo?" After a minute he felt his timid touch scalding the back of his shoulder. "Go away, Renfield." It never worked between mortals and vampires. He was crazy to think that someday the two could live in harmony. Mortals and vampires would always fear each other. "Duo, it's almost dawn." "Yes, I know that." It wasn't fair to be angry at him. He knew how terrifying he looked when his fangs extended. And it wasn't his fault that he was forced to lisp in front of him. "Turn around." Refusing his request, he folded his arms across his chest and glared at the lightening sky. But hopelessness drained his anger, leaving a hollow space at the center of his chest. Abruptly he pictured Quatre, sitting in a lawn chair, his house in flames behind him, eagerly awaiting the lethal kiss of dawn. "Duo? I have to do this. I have to look. It's part of who you are. Please, I'm trying to understand and accept." He didn't want Wufei to see. For the first time in a century he felt embarrassed for what he was. Right now, he felt like an alien species, something dark and ugly and fearsome, a hideous creature from the pages of horror fiction. Because he wouldn't, couldn't, turn, Wufei walked around him. He drew a deep trembling breath, then bit his lip and gazed up into his eyes. He touched his arm with shaking fingers. "You need to go. To the basement," he said in what would have passed for a normal voice if he hadn't known him so well. He said nothing, steeling himself for the moment when Wufei let himself glance at his teeth, dreading his revulsion, the fear that would generate panic and horror in his eyes. If he was still here when he awoke at twilight, he would be astonished. After visibly stiffening his resolve, Wufei slowly dropped a wide-eyed stare to his fangs. His hands were clenched in fists by his sides; he trembled violently. Duo would have given the earth for the ability to instantly retract his canines. His Renfield drew a breath that stretched his shirt across his chest. He grimaced then summoned a wobbly smile. "My, what long teeth you have, Grandmother." Duo stared at him, then burst into astonished laughter. When he recovered, his eyes were moist with relief and gratitude. Gently he touched his fingertips to his flaming cheek, the movement slow so he wouldn't startle or frighten Wufei. "You are amazing," he murmured gruffly. And so beautiful, so lovely in the pale opalescent light. He longed to enfold Wufei in his arms and tell him how deeply his acceptance moved him. But drawing him close to his fangs would have terrified him. And the pulse pounding at the base of his throat exerted such a powerful dark temptation that he, too, experienced a quick thrust of fear. "Duo, the sun is almost up. You're making me very nervous. I keep thinking about what happened to Quatre .... " Mesmerized, he stroked the back of his hand down his soft cheek, marveling at the heat of him, awed by his stubborn courage. He wondered if Wufei had any idea how great a gift his acceptance was. "Good night, my sweet Little Red Riding Hood." What should have been a dynamite exit line stumbled over an atrocious lisp. "Damn it!" Swearing with embarrassment and frustration, Duo dashed for the basement door, holding the image of Wufei's courageous smile before him like a talisman.
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