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"The Highest Bidder"Written By: Snowdragonct Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved. Warnings: yaoi, swearing, lemon and/or lime, post-War Pairings: 1X2, 3X4 background A/N: This is a Valentine's Day story, just a bit early. I expect to have all three parts posted before the big day. Enjoy! Rating: R Summary: When their weekly plans are threatened,
how far will Duo go to keep Heero's company? A 1X2 Valentine's Day
get-together story...that means yaoi, folks. "The Highest Bidder"
The ex-pilots were seated at a table for two, in a small, cozy alcove with a view of the night sky from three sides. A candle burned softly in the middle of the table, next to a single red rose in a tall, slender vase. Two goblets of a sparkling liquid glittered in the faint light, bubbles trickling up the sides to scatter across the top. Duo resisted the impulse to laugh, and settled for a rueful shake of his head. “This is unbelievable.” “It’s very—nice,” Heero said carefully, his gaze drawn to the array of stars, and then back to Duo. “And it was very nice of you to—rescue me—from the roomful of crazed women downstairs.” He gave his friend a searching look. “That is why you spent your life’s savings, isn’t it? To spare me an evening of being subjected to the whims of a woman I’ve never met before?” “Something like that,” Duo replied vaguely, his mind drifting back to his conversation with Relena. Oblivious? She thought he was oblivious. But oblivious to what? He looked speculatively at Heero, wondering what Relena thought he’d overlooked. Was there something more to their friendship than he’d been able to discern? “You do realize in this kind of charity auction that sex isn’t part of the bargain, right?” Heero was saying. Duo blinked in surprise. “S-sex? I didn’t—. I wasn’t—. I wouldn’t—,” he babbled, wondering what he’d said to make Heero think he expected sex out of the deal. Heero chuckled at the panicked look on Duo’s face. “No—Duo—I didn’t mean it that way! I meant—.” He shook his head. “You didn’t think that one of those women could demand that of me, did you?” “Oh. Uh, no,” Duo stammered out, sighing in relief. “I mean, I—no. That would be like—prostitution, wouldn’t it? Of course they couldn’t make you do that.” “So why was it so important to you that I not end up sold to someone else?” “Whoa. You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Duo asked, taking a sip from his glass. “Wow. It is champagne. I was just kidding before.” He wrinkled his nose slightly. “Tell me we don’t have to eat caviar, though!” Heero smiled patiently, though frustration simmered just below the surface at the way Duo sidestepped the question. “No, we don’t have to have caviar. The champagne is part of their special Valentine’s Day meal—anything else is made to order.” “Good.” Duo leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table and wriggling his shoulders. “Damn, it’s good to relax. After a week of field work, I swear I ache from head to toe.” Heero nodded dutifully, wanting to get back to the question. But Duo beat him to it, giving him a frank look from across the table. “I guess I just couldn’t stand the idea of some chick acing me out of my Friday night company,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, you can’t tell me you were looking forward to spending the night doing whatever some stranger wanted…having to dance…make conversation…laugh at her stupid jokes…” “Isn’t that what I’m doing with you?” Heero teased. “Hell, no!” Duo exclaimed, straightening slightly. “I mean—.” A scowl furrowed his brow. “Is that how you see it, ‘Ro?” “No, it isn’t,” Heero answered quickly. “I’m just pulling your leg, Duo.” He sipped his own glass of champagne. “Y’know, most guys wouldn’t spend their life’s savings just to make sure a friend’s Friday night isn’t ruined.” “I’m not ‘most guys,’ ‘Ro.” Duo looked out at the view, finding it easier than trying to read Heero’s expressions. “But honestly, I had selfish reasons, too. I didn’t want my own Friday night ruined…and it would be, if you weren’t in it.” He could feel a faint blush on his face, and kept it turned stubbornly away from his companion. “Thanks,” came the simple reply. Duo didn’t know if the thanks was for the rescue, or for admitting his Friday nights would be ruined without Heero’s company. And he wasn’t about to ask for clarification. “It’s okay,” he shrugged. “You’d do the same for me.” “Really? I didn’t do it two years ago when Lily bought you for the day,” Heero reminded him. He frowned as he looked absently at his glass. “I thought you kind of liked her; you seemed okay with being her ‘slave for a day.’” And was that jealousy he’d felt without even recognizing it at the time? It certainly colored his voice now. “It was kind of like you being Relena’s bodyguard, ‘Ro. She was nice enough to talk with, and a smart, pretty girl—but then, I’ve never exactly been attracted to smart, pretty girls. Or any other kind of girl, for that matter.” Did I just say that out loud? He eyed the champagne warily. Fuck, Maxwell! When was the last time you ate? Breakfast? Nope…missed it. Maybe supper—last night? Aw, shit. “Uh, forget I said that, ‘Ro. Champagne talking,” Duo said quickly, unable to look up at the steady blue eyes regarding him from across the table. “It’s okay,” Heero replied without a flicker of emotion in his voice. “I don’t care—mind—that you’re—.” “Drop it,” Duo said flatly, running a hand across his face. “Look, Yuy, I’ve hardly slept in five days, and I haven’t eaten anything substantial in twenty-four hours. So feel free to ignore anything idiotic—or more idiotic than usual—that I say.” Heero frowned at him, and then gestured to the waiter. “Could you bring us some appetizers, please? Something with protein—?” “We have a wide variety of—.” “Shrimp cocktail,” Heero said firmly. “For protein. And maybe the stuffed grape leaves…” He let his gaze trail down the menu, and picked out two additional selections, seeking an optimum balance of protein, fat and carbohydrates. Duo was looking at him with amusement when he finished ordering and the waiter strode off. “What was that?” “What was what?” came the blank reply. “Did you just order a shitload of nutritious stuff for me ‘cause I said I hadn’t eaten in a while?” “Yes.” Heero eyed him appraisingly, realizing with concern that Duo looked a bit pale and haggard. “You need something substantial…something that will sit well on an empty stomach and provide the nutrition you require.” He frowned slightly. “Why didn’t you take better care of yourself on the mission? You can’t afford to neglect your body’s needs.” Duo found himself smiling wryly. This was the Heero Yuy he knew and loved…the one who’d lecture him for hours about his eating habits, but then let him indulge in pizza on a weekly basis. The one who always put the mission first, and made sure he was physically fit to carry it out. The one he—loved? “Duo?” “Hm?” Heero shook his head at his partner’s dreamy tone. “I think you’ve had enough champagne,” he commented, eyeing the nearly-empty glass critically. “You’re probably right,” Duo admitted, grinning sheepishly. “Hell, you’re always right,” he amended himself. “Still as perfect as ever.” “I was never perfect,” Heero said flatly. Duo sighed. To me you were—are. The food arrived before they could continue the debate, and Heero promptly shoved the most nutritious selection in front of Duo. “Start with those,” he urged. “Yes sir,” Duo teased. Then he frowned a little. “How come you get to order me around when I’m the one who owns your ass until midnight?” “Because I care,” Heero said simply, watching as Duo obediently devoured the appetizers he’d placed before him. From that moment, Heero took charge of the dinner, making sure his mission-weary friend ordered a wholesome meal, rather than something rich and hard to digest. And as worn out as he was, Duo submitted to the guidance, finding it oddly soothing that he didn’t have to lead. By the time they’d worked their way through supper, and were finishing the last of a sweet, fruity dessert, Duo was almost nodding with weariness. “Sorry I’m lousy company tonight, ‘Ro,” he murmured, stifling a yawn behind a hand. “Just tired.” “Then let me take you home,” Heero said gently, standing up and offering his hand. Duo took it with a slight smirk. “No one from the auction is watching now,” he pointed out. “Ah, but I’ve still got over two hours of servitude.” Heero smirked back. “Besides, you’re drunk.” “Tipsy,” Duo corrected meticulously. “And mostly that’s fatigue.” “Maxwell, I’ve seen you down a six-pack all by yourself and walk away less impaired than you are right now.” “Yeah, well, when you put it on top of a stomach full of pizza, and space it out over a night of playing pool, it doesn’t have a chance to sneak up on you like that fancy champagne.” Duo didn’t mind at all that Heero slipped an arm around his waist in the elevator to “steady him.” And he didn’t even object to letting him drive his beloved jeep.
“Uh, ‘Ro—I don’t think I’m up to a movie tonight,” Duo mumbled sleepily, plunking down onto a chair and picking at the laces of his boots. “Of course not,” Heero said matter-of-factly. “You need a hot shower to relax those tired muscles, and then I thought I’d give you a back rub—work out some of the knots for you.” Duo blinked owlishly up at him. “A back rub?” He scratched the back of his head a bit nervously. “You really don’t have to do that…” “I know. But you’ve still got almost an hour of my time—,” Heero reminded him, “—and I want to.” Duo’s protest died on his lips at the husky sound of Heero’s voice, and he stood up, kicking his boots into a corner of the hallway. “I’ll—just go take that shower then.” He padded across the living room, suddenly wide awake from the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach. Duo Maxwell was no less intelligent than Heero Yuy, and despite his rational mind trying to convince him Heero was just being a pal and fulfilling the obligations of the auction contract, he knew there was something more there. But as badly as he wanted that something, he feared what it might do to their Friday nights. If he lost his best friend because he wanted too much more, he’d never forgive himself. Tossing Quatre’s suit into the hamper, Duo made a mental note to get it dry-cleaned and pressed before returning it to his kind co-worker. It had been very nice of Quatre to loan it to him—and he was quite sure he wouldn’t have been admitted to the Hilton without it. Well, not without bloodshed anyway. The hot spray of water across his face made Duo want to sink into an exhausted heap on the floor of the tub—but he forced himself to stay upright and not think about what Heero might have in mind, as he washed and rinsed his hair and scrubbed off the dirt of a week-long mission. It took longer than he expected, but he felt a million times better. When he finished, wrapping one towel around his waist, and another in his hair, he eyed his reflection in the mirror critically. Bruises colored his shoulder, where an enemy had kicked him with a booted foot, and there was a long, shallow scrape down one arm from a panicked slide down a rocky slope. He knew he’d get a lecture for both injuries; Heero seemed to have a firm conviction that a soldier of Duo’s caliber should never be touched by an opponent. Yeah, right. Duo shook his head, smirking at his reflection. Over the years he’d been more than touched—he’d been beaten bloody, stabbed, shot, nearly run over, and on at least two occasions, almost blown up. A scratch and a bruise were beneath notice…to anyone except Heero. “Almost done in there?” came a chiding voice from the hallway. “Oh, yeah. Just a sec.” Duo grimaced, realizing that Heero probably wanted to finish fulfilling his obligation and get back to his own place for some sleep. Yeah, he’d just been reading too much into the little gestures and cryptic comments. Rationality reasserted itself. “Fuck,” muttered the braided man, realizing he hadn’t brought any clothes into the bathroom. Unless he wanted to put Quatre’s suit back on, he’d have to parade past Heero in nothing but a towel. “Well, shit. It’s not like he hasn’t seen it before.” In fact, they’d seen each other naked plenty of times in the past. During the War they’d shared quarters enough times, tended one another’s wounds, and dressed for missions in front of each other without being self-conscious. So why, now, did Duo find himself pausing at the door, reluctant to be so exposed in front of his long-time friend? He didn’t have time to ponder the question, as Heero pulled the door open for him. “Can you grab an extra towel? I’ll spread it out on your bed so that if any of the massage oil drips, it won’t get on your—.” His voice trailed off as his gaze settled on the bare chest, sliding down to the towel that hung loosely around Duo’s hips. “You have massage oil?” Duo asked in disbelief. Heero nodded, pulling his gaze back up to Duo’s face. “I went out to the twenty-four hour drug store around the corner while you were showering.” He gave a slight shrug. “They have a whole section of spa and aromatherapy stuff.” Duo blinked, one hand absently clutching his towel a little tighter around his waist. “That’s nice…but you didn’t have to…” The blue eyes narrowed. “You can stop telling me what I don’t have to do now. It’s past midnight. I can do whatever I want.” “Oh.” “And I want to give you a back rub…and take care of that scrape on your arm, and maybe make sure those bruises aren’t a symptom of a worse injury.” Duo managed a smirk at that, his nervousness easing. “Figured you’d notice,” he sighed. “I notice a lot of things,” came the cryptic response, as Heero grabbed a spare towel and gestured Duo to precede him down the hall. When Duo walked into his bedroom, his eyes widened and he turned around, fixing a questioning look on Heero. “Candles?” Heero nodded, shrugging slightly. “They’re supposed to relax you.” “Aromatherapy?” “There’s a scientific basis for—.” “I know that. But you didn’t have to—.” He stopped himself when he saw the stern gleam in the blue eyes. “Okay. I’ll shut up now.” Heero gave a small, triumphant smile, stepping around him and spreading the towel on the bed. “Come lie down on your stomach and close your eyes.” Duo found himself shivering a little as he followed the instructions, hoping Heero didn’t notice his nervousness. He turned his face sideways so it wasn’t pressed into the pillow, and unsuccessfully tried to relax. Gentle hands ran lightly across his back, and he shuddered and tensed. This just wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t pretend it didn’t affect him to have those hands on him, and he couldn’t delude himself into thinking Heero wouldn’t notice. “Look, Heero—this is a bad idea.” “What is?” “This. You—me. Just because they auctioned you off for a romantic evening doesn’t mean you have to force yourself to act romantic.” Duo scowled in frustration, starting to push himself up onto his elbows. But a firm hand pressed him back down. “Would it help you relax if I told you I really, really want to do this?” asked a husky voice. “I’m not ‘acting.’ I want to look after you, and massage away the aches and tension I know you’re feeling. I want to—to feel your muscles relax under my hands.” Duo slumped back onto the pillow, letting out a soft groan of surrender. He wasn’t exactly sure what Heero meant by all that—but he did believe the sincerity in the warm, familiar voice. And it convinced him that no matter what he’d said or done this evening, he hadn’t lost his best friend. “Do you trust me, Duo?” Soft words were accompanied by a soothing stroke down his spine by a strong, sure hand. “Mm-hm.” “Then let me do this.” “’kay.” “I’m going to comb out your hair first, before it dries into a rat’s nest,” Heero said quietly, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on both of Duo’s shoulder blades. “G’d idea,” came a sleepy response. Heero carefully unwound the towel from around Duo’s hair, and blotted most of the moisture from it before setting to work with his fingers and a comb. It took a disappointingly short amount of time for him to smooth the strands into a silky fall of chestnut over Duo’s shoulder and down the side of the bed. And then he nudged him in the ribs. “You awake enough to braid it?” With a soft, amused snort, Duo pushed up on an elbow and spent a moment deftly braiding the long strands. As if he could sleep with Heero Yuy sitting on his bed and nothing but a towel between them! “There,” he said quietly. “All done.” “Oh no. Just getting started,” Heero assured him, pressing him back down onto the pillow, and carefully laying the braid off to one side. Duo nestled his head into the softness, and closed his eyes again, savoring the warmth of those hands on his skin. But when the hands smoothed oil over his shoulder blades, he practically purred at the sensation. Instead of the cool liquid he’d expected, it felt warm—almost hot. “You heated it?” Duo mumbled into his pillow. “I had it sitting in a pan of hot water all this time,” came the slightly smug reply. Duo moaned happily. “Like I said before—you are perfect.” “Maybe I just have a lot of incentive to try to be,” came an inscrutable reply. And then Duo lost the ability to speak—or think—as those skilled hands rubbed harder, fingers working more oil into tight, fatigued muscles and soothing them into slackness. In fact, the deep, steady strokes were so effective that he stopped obsessing about those being Heero’s hands delivering the heavenly massage. Not that anyone else could have made him drop his guard long enough to let them get that close to his exposed back, but the blissful sensations wiped out the last of his anxiousness over being touched so intimately by Heero Yuy. “God, I love you—,” he whispered, drifting
into an exhausted slumber.
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