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"Destination Eden"Written By: Lisa-chan
Disclaimer: The G-boys are not mine. I only use
them for loads of fun and for putting them in compromising situations
and stuff. Rating: NC-17 Warnings: yaoi, shounen-ai, voyeurism, slight
het, blood, angst, sap, OOCness, Relena-bashing, OC, AU on Duo’s
behalf. Pairings: 1x2x1, 1x3, 2x4, hints of 2+OC, 4x3
implied Summary: AC\200. The war is over, total peace
reigns. Heero loves Duo. Duo loves Heero. Only neither one is aware
of the others feelings. Who will make them find out? Author: Lisa-chan Author’s e-mail: m.van_kerckvoorde@planetinternet.be
Author’s note: This fic is a rewritten version
of a fic I once wrote, called Nobody’s perfect. Some might recognize
it. I’ve added parts of both Duo and Heero’s past, Duo about
his life on the street, Heero about his harsh training with Doctor
J. The original story, the one in their present lives, basically stayed
the same. I’ve also added a prologue and epilogue. I have indicated
AU on Duo’s behalf, especially concerning his past. No Maxwell
church, no sister Helen, no Sweepers on his fourteen years old. He
did meet Solo. But I’m gonna stop rambling now before I give
everything away. Don’t let the het scare you away, I promise
some good boys on boys action ahead ^_~ Well, enjoy! Reviews would
be nice. Thoughts in Italics ~o~O~o~ indicates flashback Thousands of thanks to Shenlong for the beta reading
^_^ ~*~*~ Destination Eden
Chapter 14 He might’ve placed a bet with Benoît, but he didn’t seem to get any bites. Three times in a row, Benoît had come home with fifty dollars, while Duo might as well have been thin air for all the attention he got. Advice. He needed advice from Solo. “Solo, what do I have to do now? They just walk past me. You said everyone would go for me, didn’t you?” Duo questioned. “Duo, Duo,” Solo said, shaking his head. “Go for you, yes. But did you approach someone first?” “No.” “What are you thinking, you silly boy? Shaking your cute little ass alone isn’t enough, you know. There are a few of them who have the nerve to walk up to you themselves. Most though you have to approach yourself. If you go to them, they can hide behind the excuse that you invited them.” “I have to go to them?” “Exactly. You’ve never kept an eye on Benoît then?” “No,” Duo said, fishing an apple from nowhere in particular and starting to peel it. “Benoît always leaves before I’m even aware of it and the next time I see him is when he stands there, waving around his fifty bucks.” “And have you ever asked him how he does it?” Duo shook his head. A pale drop of apple juice glided along the palm of his hand and he quickly licked it away. Yummy. Solo laughed inwardly. Stupid question to ask whether he had asked Benoît for any help. He saw him as a competitor, and competitors don’t ask for help from each other, they just try to outwit each other. “Is that apple for you?” “No, for them,” Duo said with a gesture of his head to the three little ones bickering about who had the most freckles and thus would be crowned king of freckles. “Good,” Solo said satisfied. “I’ll go with you. Benoît for once has to take care of those three whirlwinds.” “Thank you, Solo. I mean, it’s not that I’m so eager to let strangers fuck me, but the reason why I’m not with family right now, is because I want to be independent. I feel guilty every time I eat something and I know the money you bought it with didn’t come from me. Or when Benoît grumbles about me needing yet another bottle of shampoo and conditioner.” “Yes, those bottles of shampoo really are a thorn in his side,” Solo laughed. “But I can’t deny he’s right about the fact that it would be a whole lot easier if you were to have have short hair.” “You mean I have to cut my hair?!” Duo yelled, startled. “I don’t want that!” “Oh, you don’t want that?” Solo said slightly surprised. “You do attach a lot of value to your hair, don’t you?” “Y-yes,” Duo stammered shyly. “Why?” “You promise not to laugh?” “On little Clady’s head,” Solo said earnestly. “Hey,” one of the little ones protested. Duo laughed and handed him one of the apple pieces. “Here, your last meal,” he joked. “Last meal? Why?” With a caress over his head, Duo ignored the question and gave the other two a piece as well. Then he went back to Solo. “It reminds me of my father. Every morning, my hair was a mess, and he always combed it for me. You wouldn’t believe the patience that man had. Sometimes he even arrived at work late because of it. He didn’t leave before my hair was neatly combed and tied in a braid. You see, if I were to cut my hair, it would feel like cutting away the memories of my father.” He playfully pointed the knife he had peeled the apple with out to little Clady, who was far away enough not to get injured by the sharp object. “You promised not to laugh!” Solo didn’t laugh, didn’t even have to try not to laugh. He just smiled, moved, almost touched. “Why would I laugh about that, Duo?” he said. “I only wished I could say something sweet like that about my parents.” Duo’s heart lurched and he mentally punched himself. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “That’s okay,” Solo said. A hand pulling at his sleeve made Duo look aside. There was little Clady, offering him a paper crown. “Duo, you have most freckles of all. You are the king of freckles.” ~o~O~o~ Thirty push ups! Ten runs around the block! Even now Heero when was lying in his bed he could still hear it in his head. He couldn’t close his eyes or he saw Doctor J standing there in his white coat, dishing out commands and keeping a threatening eye on the dog in case Heero faltered. Yes, the dog. Since he didn’t have a platoon he could make suffer for his mistakes, Heero on more than one occasion had had to clasp his hands over his ears against the sharp cries of the poor animal. He had bit back his tears, had kept the waterworks tightly shut, coz he knew crying would make the whole thing even worse. He was a tangle of hidden emotions. He felt remorse. Doctor J thought they were heading in the right direction, that he’d got rid of most of his emotions by now, but in reality he was only pretending. On the outside he stayed as calm as possible. At the inside he roared and screamed. His conscience became deformed and disjointed. His little devil tortured his pious angel to death and wrote with bloody letters one single word across his soul: murderer. Whatever he had left of his human feelings got lost in his darkened soul, wandered around aimlessly, until they couldn’t find the way back to his heart and finally died. But at night everything came back. His crimes of the day prowled around in his head. Then he prayed to God. Father, forgive me, for I have sinned. Sometimes he wondered what he had done wrong. In the beginning he had thought it was like that in all families. He didn’t know any better. He had thought every ten year old boy was dragged out of his bed at six in the morning to go running twenty rounds of the backyard, or got beaten up when they dropped their fork. Later on, he had learned through magazines, TV was forbidden, that was a waste of time. Doctor J found what a family ought to consist of. Mother, father, kids, maybe a dog. Up till that point, that image, except for the mother, didn’t differ that much from his situation. Cozy nights in front of the television, round games every now and then. It was there though that things started to flop. Turkey and presents on Christmas day, cake and parties on birthdays. Utopia. He often dreamt about things like that. Then he closed his eyes and saw himself sitting in front of an open fire. In his lap lay a dog, the flames of the hearth reflecting red and orange on his coat. Rosha was his name. In the air hung the smell of tea and cookies, and in the background he could hear the pleasant bickering of some show on TV. From behind him, two loving arms closed around him, and as he leant backward, he could feel the chest of a strong father figure. A shrill whistle blared sending his dream to splinters. Just when he was starting to get a little warm, Doctor J came marching in and let him know through abundant hand gestures he had to get up. “I expect you out and ready to go within five minutes,” he said curtly, and off he went again. Five minutes later, Heero darted out of the front door, still stuffing his shirt in his pants. He stood in the right position, feet touching, chest pert, arms stiffly against his body and waited for Doctor J to find something to nag him about. “Your shoelace isn’t tied. Ten sit ups.” Heero tied his shoelace and began his sit ups. Hairsplitter, nitpicker, hedger, perfectionist, pettifogger, pussyfoot… Could he still think of something else? No. “I’m ready, Doctor J,” he said. “Good,” Doctor J said, sitting in the car. “Get in.” “Where are we going?” “You’ll see where we’re going, just get in,” he snapped. Heero got in and looked through the window. He tried to recognize the road they were following, but couldn’t place anything. There weren’t many houses where they lived. There were a lot of woods, far away from the busy city life. The street lighting was very poor, and the roads they were following now lay covered under a dense, dark cloak. It seemed to Heero they had been driving for hours. When they finally halted at a wood, they got out, and he got the heebie-jeebies at the creepy sounds he heard. “What are we doing here, Doctor J?” he asked. Doctor J didn’t say anything, but pushed a bag with compass, map and flashlight in his hands. “I expect you back home for breakfast. Be there in time.” He got back in his car and left Heero behind. Heero knew that showing off and playing the poor wretch would have zero effect and he also knew that the “be there in time” had been a “be there in time or expect to be thrashed”. What was he supposed to do now? He didn’t have any experience in this. Map. What was the use of a map if he didn’t even know where he was? A compass, yes, fortunately he had worked with that before. What was the time now? Half past two. What time was breakfast? Six o’clock. Quick little sum… that left him four and a half hours to find his way through the warren of little streets and country roads. He despondently looked about him. His feet sank in the mud. He was alone, tired, desperate and all of a sudden felt like crying. The world he knew had disappeared. All around he saw things that were alien to him. Trees in the moonlight that looked like eerie monsters, birds that flew up and seemed to taunt him with their shrilling. He heard a soft, ticking noise. The little hand of his watch that ticked the seconds away. Tick tock, closer to six o’clock. Better get on the road. Ten to six, his watch told him, and he was starting to get more than a little desperate. He had walked blindly in the dark during this pathological countdown, in and out this street and that. His thoughts turned to prayers, his prayers turned to pleas. Let me be in time, please, let me be in time. But the Big Man up there held his ears tightly shut. He kept on walking. It stayed equally as dark, the streets kept on looking alike. Another anxious glance to his watch. Three, two, one… six o’clock. Time’s up. A razor-sharp shriek tore through the silent daybreak, slashed through his heart with a burning pain and kept on smoldering there. “Six,” he whispered. Absurd that Doctor J wanted to give their pets a number instead of name. “Six!” he cried. He started running in the direction the sound had come from. It hadn’t sounded that far away, he had to be close. A second cry was sent into the night sky. Heero kept running. He noticed a black mailbox, green in daylight, with a stark white roof. He recognized that! This was his street! With renewed courage he bolted away, until he could finally see his house. He jumped over the little fence that lead to the backyard and flashed his light around in search of his dog. He didn’t need much light to find the poor animal, the pitiful whining was enough. Kneeling down, he let the soft glow of the flashlight glide over the shivering bundle. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the nasty wound on the thigh. A dark red, glimmering stain in sharp contrast with the snow white coat. His beautiful dog. “Six,” he sighed, caressing his dog soothingly over the head. “Wait, I’ll be right back.” Like he would be going anywhere with that injured leg. He trotted inside and soon came back with gauze, bandages and water. He sat down again and carefully cleaned the wound. The dog cried, and Heero whispered some consoling words to ease the pain. However, pain wasn’t the reason Six was crying. The blow, a fist, hit Heero on the back of his head, making stars of pain dance in front of his eyes. He glanced at the dog. Frightened black eyes were fixed on someone who seemed to be behind him. “What are you doing?” a voice hissed. He turned his head and looked dismayed at the blazing face of Doctor J. “I… I’m looking after my dog,” he said, valiantly getting up his feet. “Why?” “If I don’t take care of that wound, it will become infected and he will be in even more pain. Maybe you can make a murder machine of me,” he said quickly as he saw Doctor J raising his hand for a second blow, “But there is a difference between a murder machine and a heartless monster. I agree, when I have to fight in the war, then I’ll have to kill too, but at least they will be dead at once.” “You don’t know that, Heero,” Doctor J growled. “When you throw a grenade, you’ll never know where the fragments will end up, who is and who isn’t hit, whether they're dead or still alive. It’s just a part of it.” “You’re right, that is something I don’t know. But if I could, I wouldn’t stand by and watch them slowly bleeding to death. The purpose of all these training sessions is to learn how to kill, not how to torture. So if you don’t mind, Doctor J, I would like to take care of my dog now.” The threatening hand sagged. He had nerve, that little guy. Good. “Don’t use those good bandages for it,” he said curtly, disappearing into the house and moments later coming back with some old cloths. “Rip those to pieces.” Heero waited until Doctor J was gone, then kneeled down again. Someday it would all be better. Later, when he was old enough to take care of himself. It was a dream that seemed unreachable now, but some day he would sit in front of an open fire, with a dog in his lap. In the air there would be the smell of cookies, and he would feel loving arms around him. ~*~*~*~ Was it five o’clock already? It was five o’clock! for the hundredth time he looked at the clock. Finally he could go home. Finally he could be with Duo again. Any moment now, Doctor J would open that door and let him out. In the mean time, he went on a search for his car keys. Where was his coat? Back of his chair. Hand in the pocket. No keys. Weird. Other pocket. Still no keys? Bizarre. Where had he left them? The familiar clicking of the lock momentarily stopped him in his search. Doctor J came in, conceited as ever. Heero welcomed him with all the feigned friendliness he could muster. Doctor fucking J, good to see you again! He had decided for himself that being submissive and obedient would be the best thing to do. Maybe he would shorten his imprisonment a bit then. Hopefully. “Are you ready?” Doctor J asked. “Just a moment,” Heero said, looking in the drawers of his desk. “I’m still looking for my keys. Ah, here they are!” He started rummaging through the bunch of keys. “I don’t think you’re going to find what you’re looking for.” “What?” Heero snapped, sharply jerking his head up. His eyes widened and he could feel his blood unmistakably heating up, then cooling down again as he realized he was a nobody in this whole circus. Doctor J held his hand up, and between his thumb and index finger were dangling Heero’s car and house key, original and spare. It actually made Heero speechless. Now it dawned upon him what Doctor J was up to. Not only in his work, but also in his private life would he try to prevent any contact with his American beauty. “Come on, I will take you home,” Doctor J said, gesturing with his head to follow him. Friendliness, albeit feigned, didn’t count anymore. With a sullen expression on his face, Heero obeyed. What else could he do? As he walked out of his office he caught flailing arms from the corner of his eye, and two voices in his ears. Duo, deeply in conversation, could’ve been a quarrel, with Heidi. Dressed in their coats, keys in hand, just like him ready to leave. Duo looked up from his quarrel with Heidi as he noticed movement at Heero’s office. For a split second they made eye-contact, and in that split second Duo could see more pain, grief and desire than he would ever wish on his worst enemy. Doctor J immediately jerked Heero by his hand when he had locked the door, making a detour to the elevator so they wouldn’t pass the arguing couple. “Heero,” Duo called. But Heero didn’t look back. ~*~*~*~ In spite of the imprisonment Doctor J had inflicted upon him, the evening came faster than he had expected. He had decided to go to bed early that night. He couldn’t concentrate on anything anyway. A decision he would regret very soon. The moment he lay down, puzzled thoughts began to race through his head. All the days events came back in his head to haunt him, again and again. The punishment, those horrible visions, and now he was even robbed of all his freedom. Not only had Doctor J had brought him home, but he'd also locked him up. “I hope you enjoy your new windows”, he had said before he left him. At first, Heero didn’t know what he meant by that, but later that evening when he had tried to open them he had to conclude that he couldn’t open them at all. Break them then? No luck there. Not by throwing a chair against it, not by banging on it with some heavy object, not even by shooting at it with his gun. His phone was gone, and his cell phone as well. Even his precious laptop he had to hand in. Every contact with the world outside was impossible. Prisoner in his own house. During the day Doctor J had also asked him what he wanted to eat for dinner. He didn’t see the point in telling him that, moreover, that night he was planning to have dinner with Duo and Heidi, so he had simply barked “Nothing!”. And nothing was what he found when he was dropped off home. His refrigerator was practically empty. Another reason why he couldn’t find any rest that night, an empty stomach. But what burned more brightly than any other thing in his memory and his heart, was their disastrous, yet wonderful bout of lovemaking on the desk. Only now did it come to him how much Duo really cared. He had kept his word not to use him, for if he really wanted to use him, he would’ve continued banging away inside of him. He wouldn’t have consoled him and cradled him in his arms, only saved him from suffocating maybe, but when there was no danger of dying anymore, he would’ve tossed him aside like a cheap whore if he didn't care. Not Duo. Duo cherished him and was determined to help him. How he longed to be with him now. To hold him, to feel his skin against his own, hear his heartbeat and breathing, not only in a distant dream, but here, now, in his bed. It was a flaring longing that was eating him from inside painfully slowly. Whether he lay on his back, his side or his belly, he couldn’t banish the thought from his head; he wanted to be with him. He tried not to think about it, but the mere thought of Duo touching him was enough to make his lower parts stir. The touch of the pillow against his neck felt like a flick of his silken tongue, and when the sheet caressed his leg, he could’ve sworn it was Duo’s thigh brushing past his. The flesh in his boxers was pulsing and throbbing, and he couldn’t deceive himself any longer. He was desperate, horny and alone, so he did the only thing he could do in a moment like that. His right hand slowly lingered under the sheets over his bare chest to his abdomen and from there it roved further to eventually sneak into his boxers. He sucked in a harsh breath as he softly started massaging the damp tip to soothe his painful need a bit, but the knowledge that Duo’s mouth had been there just this morning and that this was the first night without any of that for a whole month was murderous. He curled his fingers around his manhood and slowly started pumping. It moved up and down and was only satisfied when the soft fabric was wet and bitter. In his head it hadn’t been himself who had been doing that, but Duo. Duo who touched him, Duo who licked him, Duo who kissed him, Duo who made mad love to him. There in his head he could do this, in his head he didn’t have to be afraid Doctor J would come barging in, or a vision of him skinning Duo alive popping in front of his eyes again. In his head he was safe. There he could hug Duo, and not the pillow, wet from his tears. To be continued… |
