Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Appearances ( Chapter 11 )

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - 11/?

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Note: This fic is a response to Nova Una's challenge to write Gundam Wing/Pretty Woman fusion fic with Heero in the Julia Roberts role and Duo in the Richard Gere role.

Warnings: AU, yaoi, coarse language, violence, angst, citrusy situations, suggestive dialog, significant (read that as major, MAJOR) deviation from Pretty Woman script as I see fit.

Spoilers: None for GW, oodles for Pretty Woman, to an extent.

Disclaimer: I don't really need to be Captain Obvious here, do I? No ownership, no profit, yadda yadda. Written for fun, not profit. Don't own IBM.

Edulcorate (verb) - To free from harshness (as of attitude); to soften

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Chapter 11 - Appearances

Heero's eyes followed Duo all the way to the bathroom. He was completely flabbergasted for perhaps the fifth time in his entire life.

What did Duo want from him, anyway?

He should have asked for more money, but that practical, smug part of him reminded him that Duo would have paid any amount he'd demanded, just to get him in exactly the same position. It was bad enough being a whore, he didn't need to be a greedy one as well.

If it bothers you that much, Heero, then why are you doing it?

He was distracted from his thoughts briefly as he heard the shower running. Heero got up from the loveseat and walked to the balcony, still naked, and stood there with his arms crossed, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe.

It wasn't enough. Was never going to be enough. He was starting to suspect that his motivation was weak at best; completely, insanely irrational, pointless, and somewhat self-destructive at worst.

There was heavy cloud accumulation overhead, and his eyes stared into the starless night.

It seemed fitting, somehow.

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Duo was tempted to run the shower on the cold side, but decided he wasn't about to punish himself for Heero's obstinacy.

It had felt damned good, in more ways than one, he thought, looking down at his still swollen cock. Closing his eyes, he ran one lathered hand up and down its length, savoring the feel of the slick suds seeping through his fingers and dripping down his sac.

He pictured Heero's mouth there instead, the way he'd imagined it probably looked when Heero had sucked him off that first night. Imagined how it would feel without the condom, to feel Heero's tongue massage his flesh. He gasped a little and used his free hand to steady himself.

He imagined Heero's cock, jutting out from that small brown thatch. He saw himself taking it into his mouth, and hearing Heero's hiss of response...

Warm spurts of white fluid covered his hand and he laughed to himself. Looks like Heero managed to get him off, anyway, even in absentia.

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Heero felt a slight chill in the air, but made no move to close the balcony doors or to fetch a robe. He welcomed it.

God, the memories were getting harder to keep at bay, and he had little control over which ones were coming to the forefront of his mind. He couldn't imagine what it was like for an amnesiac, regaining odd glimpses of memory, yet having nothing concrete to attach them to.

Or was that a good thing?

/"Hurrow! You're back!" He found himself tackled by an armful of five-year-old energy. "I missed you, Hurrow!"

She still had trouble pronouncing his name, he noted with fondness.

"I told you I'd be back, he said, suffering gladly the enthusiastic hug she was bestowing upon him. He breathed in the clean fresh smell of her baby shampoo, a scent he always associated with her. It emphasized the fact that he was home.

She let go of him and backed up a step, then scowled at him in almost perfect imitation of one of his own.

"The people who subtitled your house were mean!" she said.

He laughed softly. "You mean sublet."

"They were mean!" she emphasized with a stomp of her foot, impatient that he was deliberately missing her point.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" he said, smiling at her warmly.

"Marry me!"

He laughed again, this time a deep rich chuckle. She kicked him squarely in the shin.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not," he denied, then gave lie to his words by doing just that.

"I know I'm too little NOW," she said with a dramatic sigh. "I'm talking about LATER, when I'm all grown up. Right now, you're more like my bestest friend, more than any of THOSE guys," she said, pointing at her house.

It was most likely true. He'd spent far more time with her than any of her siblings, the curse of being the eighth and youngest child as well as the only girl. Her brothers seemed to think that she wouldn't be interested in "boy stuff" and left her out of a lot of activities.

"Of course," he said, struggling to adopt a more serious expression. It was difficult to do so, as her face was scrunched up in the cutest little pout.

"He said you were never coming back, that your parents were leaving you in Japan!" she blurted out.

"He?"

"The BOY!" she yelled, a telltale sheen of tears in her eyes. "Pay attention!"

Part of him wanted to laugh again at her leaps in logic, determining that she was talking about the temporary tenants and why she'd thought they were mean. Another part of him wanted to draw her into a fierce embrace and tell her he'd gladly wait until she was old enough to marry. Of course she'd change her mind when she was older, but it was rather heartwarming that she felt that way now.

He settled for brushing the knuckle of one finger near the corner of her eye to wipe away the bit of moisture that had gathered.

"I TOLD him you'd be back!" she said, her voice choking on a sob.

"And you were right, and he was wrong." She nodded eagerly. "He was a big, fat liar," he added, looking very serious indeed, and she grinned at him, fully recovered as was common for children of that age.

"That's right, Hurrow." Then her brows furrowed. "That's still not right, is it?"

He couldn't lie to her. Never had been able to. "No."

"Can you speak Japanese now?"

The way her mind darted from one topic to another still astounded him.

"Is your name Japanese?"

"Yes."

"Are YOU Japanese?"

"I'm American," he corrected, and she frowned at him.

"HURROW!"

"I was born here. That makes me an American."

She seemed to digest this a bit. Then she brightened. "How do you say 'husb'nd'?"

"What?"

"In Jap-a-nese," rolling her eyes to emphasize the unspoken 'duh' in that statement.

"Aisaika."

She frowned. "Too hard. Besides, I'm not old enough for that yet. How do you say brother?"

"Older or younger?"

"It doesn't matter!" she stamped her foot again, then looked at his very solemn expression. "It does? Or for Pete's sake!" She glared at him, and he once again found himself biting back a chuckle. Actually, it was obvious which one she'd need to know, having only older brothers herself. She wouldn't really need to know otouto herself unless her parents were planning on starting their own country.

"Oniisan. Or oniichan."

"Oh-knee-san," she attempted carefully, then looked at him. He repeated it for her. "Oh-nii-san," she tried it again, rolling her tongue in her mouth as if she were actually tasting the word.

"Or just plain 'niisan."

She beamed at him. "Niisan."/

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Duo wasn't exactly surprised to see that Heero hadn't returned to the bedroom yet, figuring he most likely needed time to process the latest development in their little 'relationship.'

He was surprised, however, to wake up early the next morning to find Heero curled in a ball facing him. Heero was lying on his left side at the edge of the bed, putting the most distance between them, but his left arm was extended out in front of him, his fingers slightly curled toward the ceiling. The knuckles were just millimeters from grazing Duo's arm.

Duo sat up and gave Heero a once-over before getting out of bed and heading for the shower. It was going to be a very long, very painful day.

God, he hated these networking events.

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Heero's eyes fluttered when he felt the shift of Duo's weight on the bed. He felt emotionally drained. How much sleep had he gotten? Two hours? Three?

He hoped Duo didn't expect him to be fresh as a daisy for this 'thing' they had to attend today.

The desire to crawl under the covers was back again. Was he going to wake up like this every morning as long as he was staying with Duo? Worse yet, was it going to continue even after the week ended? He swallowed a bitter laugh before it could escape, picturing himself with thinning gray hair, age spots and a plastic hip, still trying to burrow into the mattress.

The water in the bathroom was off, and Heero expected to see Duo saunter out at any second, but five minutes later the door was still shut. His bladder started to protest slightly, and that sarcastic chuckle was threatening to emerge again. Suddenly he was struck with the awareness that he REALLY needed to use the bathroom, and Duo was still in there.

This was certainly a situation he'd never imagined before.

The door opened, and Duo was wrapping an elastic band around the end of his wet braid. Heero slid out of bed and stood up, hoping Duo wasn't about to play any games with him this morning, unless he wanted to be the sudden recipient of an entirely new 'sexual experience' and in need of a second shower. He couldn't imagine Duo being into that type of kink, but what did he really know about this man, other than Duo seemed to have a way of knocking him off balance when he least expected it.

He must have been shifting his weight from one foot to the other, because Duo smirked slightly, then tilted his head toward the open door.

"All yours."

And Heero was struck with yet another of those indefinable pangs that had been cropping up an awful lot lately.

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"Normally I'd say 'just be yourself,'" Duo was telling Heero as they stood near a kiosk providing beverages for all and sundry. "But all things considered, I'm not sure if that's such a good idea."

Heero bristled at the implied slur. Hadn't he handled himself with the utmost comportment at the dinner with the Peacecrafts? It had been Duo who'd effectively ruined that gathering.

Duo wanted to kick himself. It seemed he could not hold his tongue around Heero, probably not even if he used both hands. A sideways glance at Heero gave him an idea of a much more effective way for his mouth to be silenced, and he quelled that immediately. Nothing like a prominent bulge in one's trousers to make a stellar impression on the masses.

Heero still insisted, without saying a word, on wearing that damned wig. His loose button down shirt rippled with the appearance of a sudden breeze, and it would have been nice to see Heero's impossible-to-tame hair ruffled the same way. All in all, he'd really seen very little of it.

Heero looked good in casual clothing. Not too casual, of course. Apperances had to be maintained to some degree. A pale yellow linen oxford, buttoned at the cuffs, and trim pants of a deep green color bordering on black. In his haste to get Heero fitted for clothes, he'd forgotten to take the shoes into account, but a quick call down to one of the hotel's shops had a pair of soft soled boots of mahogany-colored suede at the room in the time it took for Heero to shower.

He himself had opted for a pair of charcoal slacks and a shirt of such a vibrant red, it screamed 'look at me,' and therefore could only be worn by someone with complete self confidence. A 'power shirt,' in a sense. It was very distracting without being tacky or tasteless, and in Duo's experience, distraction was a very powerful weapon.

His appearance and Heero's could not be more different, and for a moment Duo felt that he was wearing something better suited for Heero, as if the two of them had accidentally worn each other's clothes that morning.

Except that he had a broader build than Heero, and therefore would never be able to get into those pants. He groaned inwardly at the unintentional innuendo.

The hair of Heero's wig wasn't pulled back into the tight ponytail it had sported for the last two days. It was left loose, some of the strands tickling his face, although he showed no sign of noticing. Duo wanted to reach up and smooth them away from Heero's eyes, which were, of course, brown again.

"What?" Heero's terse query made him realize he'd just sighed out loud.

"Just being here," Duo said. "I am wondering how long I will last before someone makes me want to tear my hair out."

Heero flicked his eyes to the end of the braid, which twitched slightly as Duo shrugged, then at Duo.

He was saved from having to make any comment by the sudden appearance of a woman who was completely overdressed for this quasi-casual festival. Even in the fresh air, the cloying scent of a heavy perfume hung about her like a cloud.

Heero's nose wrinkled instinctively, and Duo made eye contact with him, just for a moment, before turning his attention to the woman, who was obviously after more than just a little of Duo's time.

What did Duo really want him here for, anyway?

Duo had said he wanted to be saved from the clutches of people like this, and yet here he was, talking and laughing at things she said; incredibly inane, self-centered things. He was a consummate actor, Heero realized with a shocked awareness. Even Duo's eyes were engaged in the illusion that he was truly interested in what the woman had to say.

How did he do that? Heero was able to hide behind a mask of solitude when necessary, but he'd known precious few people who could smile and stab you in the back so convincingly, without even the slightest hint of something not-quite-right in their eyes.

Dangerous. That continued to be the word Heero associated with Duo the most.

"Excuse me, my dear lady," Duo said, patting one of the hands that had latched onto his. "I see some acquaintances that I must attend to."

"Of course," she said, digging into her reticule for something. She pulled out a calling card, also heavily scented, and kissed it briefly before handing it to Duo and departing with a suggestive wink, and then a dismissive glance at Heero, whom she'd just noticed.

Duo looked at the card in his hand and shuddered, then he handed it to Heero, who promptly ripped it in two and let the pieces fall prey to the wind.

"Jealous?" Duo said with a grin, then frowned briefly. "Carnivores, the lot of them." He briefly touched Heero's arm. "Come, I have to make good on what I said to Antiope before she comes back."

"Making you Heracles, I suppose?" Heero said, once again kicking himself mentally at Duo's look of surprise.

"Only if you're Theseus," he said, the grin back in play at the expression of abject horror on Heero's face.

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Relena tried not to twist her hands in the hem of her sundress, but her brother's pacing was causing her own level of agitation to rise by degrees.

"Milliardo," she said, hoping that her calm tone would at least get him to stop and look at her.

He'd been fit to be tied when he'd read the latest snippet comparing his current business situation to a military operation. Unfortunately she had to agree that the blurb had all but come out and said that if he'd made as many errors in judgement in his previous career as he seemed to be with his family's legacy, then the nation was much safer with him a civilian.

Their father had been convalescing in a mountain village of the Swiss Alps, his declining health more a result of mental duress than physical illness. Milliardo had been trying so hard to set things right, not wanting to 'run to daddy' as he'd said angrily one night after Relena asked if he'd heard from their father.

She had hoped that this festival, which actually sounded rather fun, might help smooth his ruffled feathers, but she wasn't very optimistic. Therefore her own chances of having a good time seemed to be dwindling.

It was a casual affair, and her brother had conceded to wearing a T-shirt under a loosely buttoned shirt, both tucked into a pair of navy pants. He would have looked relaxed if not for the air of tension that oozed from every pore.

She resisted the impulse to heave a sigh of relief when he finally grabbed his keys and barked at her to get it in gear before he left without her.

tbc

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In Greek mythology, Antiope was sister to Hippolyte, Amazon queen. Heracles (Hercules in Roman mythology), as part of his Twelve Labors, had to steal the girdle from her. Of course, the Amazons are powerful women, and Heracles and Theseus had a real fight on their hands. Depending on the version you read, Antiope was either killed in this battle, or was kidnapped by Theseus. In some versions, Theseus and Antiope later married. Heh.