Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Breaking the Spell ( Chapter 30 )

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - 30/?

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Warnings: AU, yaoi, coarse language, violence, angst, cliffhanger endings, red herrings, various vices, random bits of useless knowledge, occasionally explicit sex.

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: None for GW, quite a bit for Pretty Woman.

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

Archived at:

http://www.atsui.org

http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com/gw/M ookie/gwmookie.htm

http://www.mediaminer.org (under pen name MookieNH)

http://www.fanfiction.net (R-rated version under pen name Mookie Neko)

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

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Chapter 30 - Breaking the Spell

Meiran Long unlocked the door to the apartment and noticed immediately that something was different. She quietly closed the door behind her and toed off her sneakers, then set the keys on the kitchen counter as she set off to find what it was.

Wufei was leaning back in the recliner, a book in his slack hands. He was breathing deeply, and every now and then a sound suspiciously like a snore escaped.

She smiled. A book. Not Business Week, not a stack of financial reports. A book.

She let him sleep and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

Meiran felt some of the tension leave her body as the warm water pulsated against her back. She really had to thank Wufei for buying the massaging showerhead when they first got to LA.

She lathered her wet hair and rubbed her scalp vigorously, then leaned back and let the water run through the dark locks until there were no longer any suds in the drain.

She would never admit it to Wufei, but she was terrified of what he was going to tell her tonight.

Meiran wasn't afraid he was going to leave her. Wufei was not the type to view marriage as something dissolvable or temporary. She wasn't even afraid he'd confess to an episode of infidelity, although she hated the fact that she'd once suspected him of it, particularly when he and Duo first started working together and he'd come home late every night.

It hadn't helped that Duo attracted attention everywhere he went.

She wouldn't deny that she, too, found Duo undeniably sexy. It was even worse when he decided he wanted to be. Sometimes she was sure his every move was calculated to entice, and other times she'd swear the man had no idea just how damn good-looking he was.

It was perhaps that mix of contradictory impressions that made his appeal so overwhelming at times.

She lightly rubbed conditioner in the ends of her hair and picked up an exfoliating sponge. She squeezed a generous amount of body wash, one that was supposed to make her smell like the air after a rainstorm, onto it and scrubbed her arms with it.

She found Duo incredibly attractive, true, but had never once been tempted to sleep with him.

The day she'd met Duo, Wufei surprised her by hauling off and punching the other man across the face when he'd seen them together. Part of her was pissed to think that he hadn't trusted her. Part of her thought that perhaps he had been tempted to cheat himself, and was projecting his own failings onto her as a defense mechanism.

The other part of her, the ridiculously squealing girl-woman part of her, was pleased beyond reason that he'd felt the need to eliminate any competitors for her affection.

She closed her eyes and moved the sponge to her chest and stomach.

She could see where Wufei might get that impression.

Duo knew how to use sex. The promise of it, the immorality of clandestine affairs, the danger of flirting right under husband's noses.

Yet Meiran doubted, for all of Duo's physical innuendoes, that he'd ever actually bedded another man's wife. He tried his hardest to convey an aura of danger, adventure, intrigue...all the elements that 'The Wives' found irresistible.

Duo would deny it if she called him on it, but he had scruples.

She lifted her hair off her neck and washed what she could reach of her back.

If she doubted her own ability to read people, which she rarely did, all she needed to know was that her husband trusted Duo.

That was good enough for her.

Meiran hung the sponge on the small hook used for that purpose and picked up a can of shaving cream. She propped one foot up on the built-in soap dish and spread the blue gel on her legs, working it into a foamy white lather.

She could spend all day trying to analyze Duo, assuming Wufei wouldn't go blind with jealousy. She smiled. It made her angry, but she couldn't help that warm feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever he acted possessive. It showed he cared in a way that wasn't rehearsed or forced.

Duo and Hilde...

Meiran had honestly liked Hilde, but it became apparent after the first six months Duo and Hilde spent seeing each other in New York that they weren't right for each other.

Meiran had minded her own business. As she'd told Duo a couple days earlier, love and justice were both blind. She didn't cater to the ideal that love conquered all, but it certainly went a long way in making things seem less overwhelming.

One problem was that Duo had never seemed out of character when he was with Hilde. That had bothered her from the start, but she'd chalked it up to the novelty that all new relationships had, where everyone was determined to make a good impression.

Not Duo. He prided himself on being who he was, everyone else be damned.

Unless he needed to put on an act for business. Then he could convince you he was a penniless octogenarian widow with a missing leg. Otherwise, what you saw was what you got.

So why had he always seemed to be on stage when he was with Hilde? The implications seemed obvious to Meiran, but she'd held her tongue. It had taken Hilde nearly three years to see it for herself.

Wufei had seemed a bit wary of Duo this week for some reason. It wasn't anything she could put her finger on, but her husband had been highly agitated much of the week, more so than the pending acquisition of Peacecraft called for.

There was only one thing she could see that was any different than any other time they'd taken up temporary residence near one of the firm's offices and Wufei had become consumed with an upcoming deal.

Heero.

Duo had introduced him simply as Heero. No surname. No explanation of who he was or where they met.

She'd gathered that little bit of info when Wufei nearly had a conniption over Heero's conversation with the blonde girl at that ridiculous carnival that was held every year.

It hadn't been Wufei's face she'd noticed, though.

It was Duo's.

For some reason, Duo had not liked what he saw.

She finished shaving that leg and repeated the process with the other one.

She knew almost nothing about Heero, but she also felt she knew him better, after meeting him a sum total of twice, than she knew Duo. Sure, she had formed numerous opinions of Duo, but she never felt she really knew him.

She hated to admit she hadn't recognized the difference until she met Heero.

She'd meant what she said to Heero at the gallery. Chinks had slowly started to appear in Duo's armor, and the brief flashes she saw through them had to be what was putting Wufei off kilter.

It was none of her business, but she wished mightily that she could do something.

Except that she still had to steel herself for whatever Wufei was going to reveal to her tonight.

Meiran rinsed off all traces of soap and shaving cream, and grabbed a thick bath sheet from the linen shelf.

She wrapped it around her shoulders and tried to convince herself that the chill she felt was nothing more than the water evaporating from her skin.

Who was she kidding? Despite the faith she had in her husband and her marriage, she was scared to death.

Knowing they needed to talk, and actually sitting down to go through with it, were two different things entirely.

~~~~~

Duo realized one of his hands had started stroking Heero's arm at some point, but he made no effort to stop, enjoying the feel of the still slick skin beneath his palm.

Their current position was getting uncomfortable in more ways than one. Their bodies were starting to stick together, and Heero, despite his slender appearance, was damn heavy.

He reminded Duo of a racehorse...and was so much more fun to ride.

He couldn't help the little smirk that appeared on his face, nor the shiver that ran through him at the memories the analogy evoked.

"Cold?"

Always, Duo's mind responded, but that single word changed things. Something had happened between the two of them, and Heero had broken the spell by speaking. Funny how spells were usually broken by a kiss, the one thing that had been denied him from the start.

Hilde had never been very good at keeping her mouth shut after sex, either.

Instead of answering, Duo just stared at the ceiling and wondered if Heero could be convinced that he had dozed off.

Except his traitorous hand was still running up and down Heero's arm.

~~~~~

Quatre tugged at the gauze on his hand one more time before taking a deep breath and pushing open the door to the bar. He'd hoped that, by waiting until the regulars were there, maybe he could slip in unnoticed.

He knew it was unrealistic. Trowa had his finger on the pulse of everything that went on in The Bar, but at least he wouldn't have to acknowledge Trowa if others were around.

He could have just gone to any number of dives that peppered the neighborhood, but he'd always felt at home in Trowa's bar.

It wasn't even really Trowa's, although it should have been. Quatre could barely remember a time when Trowa wasn't the one opening or closing the place. He was the kind of person whose presence went unnoticed in a crowd, but whose absence was felt keenly.

Trowa represented to him the security he'd left behind. He entrusted Trowa to take calls from his sister. The only other person he'd even consider wanting any form of contact with Iria was Heero, but he had no desire to let Iria call him at home. Not when he was there alone, at any rate. He feared that she'd start crying, and he knew if she did that, he'd be packed and on his way back to Henderson in the blink of an eye.

He slunk past the bar and tried to lean against the wall near the jukebox with exaggerated nonchalance. His head drooped forward, letting his bangs cover his eyes as much as possible, just so he could try to watch Trowa through the pale wisps of hair.

Trowa reminded him, on a superficial level only, of his father. Both men were tall, possessed of a commanding presence, and even had similar hair, right down to the color and style.

Trowa, however, seemed content with what life had dealt him, or at least accepting of it.

His father, on the other hand...

Quatre couldn't live up to what his father wanted of him. He was beginning to suspect that everyone felt like that. He'd heard enough sob stories from his johns, the ones that he'd managed to convince to 'just talk.' He was usually pretty good at picking them out in a crowd and coming on to them.

Trowa obviously thought he was tending to their physical needs in the bathroom, but more often than not, he was acting as little more than a drive-through pop psychologist.

Sure, he did give the occasional hand job, and sometimes oral sex was part of the deal as well, but ever since he'd gotten Heero sucked into the world of prostitution, he'd been unable to get it up for money.

And that ruled out sexual intercourse for money. Unlike Heero, he was seme only. It was a matter of personal safety. The one being penetrated ran the higher risk of contracting STDs.

He blamed himself for Heero's career choice, and didn't think he'd ever forgive himself for it, but on the other hand, he also knew that Heero had taken the first step in recognizing something about himself that Quatre had known long before crossing the California border.

Way to justify your actions, Quatre, he told himself.

Especially the one he kept trying to put out of his head, but was unable to forget. The memory grew more persistent every night that went by without Heero's presence in the apartment.

He'd taken to staying at the bar later each night, except that Trowa was starting to force him to face things.

Hiding your head in the sand, Quatre? That worked so well the first few months, now, didn't it? Remember how YOU got into the whole prostitution gig?

Yeah, he answered himself. And yet here I am again, the one place my head keeps getting yanked out of the nice comfortable hole in the sand.

A glutton for punishment.

He and Heero had much more in common than the means by which they earned a living.

~~~~~

Wufei looked up at the exterior of the building Meiran indicated. There wasn't even a sign overhead announcing its name. It could have been abandoned, if not for the light that was visible beyond the drawn curtains over a large glass window. If he peered through the glass in between the drapes, he could probably see the interior, but he wasn't about to do that.

"Are you SURE this is it?"

She snorted. "Trust me. The Wives have some pretty sleazy tastes. They aren't exactly genteel. If they were, Duo would never be able to cater to their sense of egoistic hedonism."

Wufei wanted to wince again. These were the women Meiran surrounded herself with while he and Duo lured people in?

Even in the dim light, she looked beautiful. Meiran always radiated strength, even when she was willing to admit defeat. By the time he'd woken up from his unscheduled nap, she was back from her jog. He'd been right about that much. She'd showered and was wearing nothing more than a robe and a towel around her hair when he walked into the bedroom.

It would have been so easy to slip his arms around her from behind, untie the belt holding the robe closed, and 'exercising his marital rights' as Duo would put it.

He'd been struck with a case of nerves, though, and he would swear that her movements were less fluid than normal, as if she'd strained every muscle in her body.

He'd almost wept with relief when it was time to go. The whole time he was performing his own ablutions and getting dressed, he felt like a grade school student waiting his turn to go out and recite his assigned bit of the Gettysburg Address in front of the entire school.

~~~~~

Heero shifted slightly, and Duo's arms loosened, allowing him to peel himself off the prone body beneath him.

He stepped under the shower spray and leaned his head forward, letting the water hit the back of his neck.

How the hell had Duo known he'd had lunch with Relena?

Kabe ni mimi ari, shoji ni me ari, an impish voice in his head reminded him, and he smiled ruefully. Wasn't that the truth.

Of all places for Relena to suggest having lunch, did it have to be a hotel? And he'd gone along with it, because it was a popular tourist place. What better way to blend in, right?

Milliardo Peacecraft's presence had made the idea of blending in seem ludicrous. Why he'd ever thought he could get away with it, he didn't know.

He'd been surprised to hear Peacecraft's voice behind him at the restaurant, but not really all that stunned about his 'blue eyes' comment. Hadn't he known that things were coming apart once Alvarez had recognized him? If Alvarez had, even for a moment, it was only a matter of time before others started to figure things out.

He remembered that stride that Peacecraft had. It was definitely reminiscent of the military, but there was more to it than that. It was exasperatingly familiar. The answer was probably painfully obvious. It would come to him eventually.

All those surprises, and he'd managed to keep his wits about him.

But he'd been caught completely off guard from the moment he saw Duo standing there in front of the desk. He was getting sloppy. Letting one's guard down was sometimes akin to painting big red and white concentric circles on the middle of one's forehead.

If the guys back home could only see him now. He winced. If he could help it, this particular chapter of his life would get swept under the rug and stay there.

He lifted his head and put his face directly under the spray, opening his mouth to catch what he could. He gargled and spit before leaning one hand against the wall and pressing his forehead to the tile.

This was his last job. He was done. He would talk to Quatre when the weekend was over. Things had gotten far out of hand, and he'd been the one to let them.

He wasn't sure if he meant the prostitution gig in general, or just the situation with Duo.

~~~~~

Meiran had insisted that they wear casual clothes, and Wufei had been skeptical until they'd entered the bar.

It really was nothing more than a bar. No theme, nothing fancy.

The interior was cleaner than he would have assumed. Meiran pointed to a table near the bar, and he agreed immediately, because it was also close to the door, should he want to make a hasty escape.

He realized how superior that made him sound, but he didn't regret it. He wasn't accustomed to this part of Hollywood, and for all he knew, it could be the site of numerous illegal activities.

Meiran went to the bar and chatted for a few minutes with the bartender. Wufei didn't trust the man on sight. He didn't trust anyone whom he couldn't look in the eye, and he could barely tell what the man looked like, hiding behind his hair the way he was.

He was glad to see Meiran returning, but surprised to see her holding two beers.

In the bottle.

"Nothing on draft for us," she said with a grin. "And you never know when you'll need a weapon."

She was right. He was edgy, and he was grateful for the reassurance of the weight of the glass bottle in his hand, even though he didn't plan on following through with her teasing suggestion.

She tilted the bottle to her lips and took a long draw from it. He watched her throat as she swallowed, fascinated.

She gave him a sexy little smile as she slowly removed the bottle from her mouth. Then she WINKED at him.

He met the challenge in her eyes, tilted the bottle back, and did his best to drain it.

It was an incredibly careless, juvenile thing to do, but he hadn't competed with Meiran over something this stupid in years.

Perhaps he needed a bit of carelessness in his life at times.

And the beer certainly wouldn't hurt when it came time to talk.

~~~~~

Heero was still in the shower when Duo came in to use the bathroom. Since that morning when Heero had waited for Duo to finish in the bathroom, he'd remembered the other three bathrooms he had discovered during his reconnoiter of the suite. Just went to show how much Duo had put him off his game from day one.

The existence of multiple bathrooms meant there was no reason for Duo to need to use this one, other than the fact that it was the only one they'd been using all week.

He wasn't stupid. Well, that was still up for debate, but he wasn't naive. He could feel the moment Duo had withdrawn from him. Not physically, but he'd felt it all the same.

He shouldn't have opened his mouth, but he'd been genuinely concerned when he'd felt the tremor run through Duo's body. By speaking, he'd acknowledged that something had happened. Something in their relationship had changed, and Duo wasn't ready to accept it. Which was kind of funny considering he'd been the one driving the changes almost from the start.

Heero had known for the past couple of days that things were coming to a head, but he'd done his best to keep his distance, only to find himself constantly giving in to things that had nothing to do with their business arrangement.

When two people got drunk, and ended up falling into bed together, usually one or both would wake up the next day, feeling horrified at what they'd done. Instead of talking about it, or agreeing on how to handle the situation, both parties sometimes feigned ignorance. By mutually disavowing any knowledge of the incident, they could pretend it had never happened. An unspoken pact of shared selective amnesia.

But Heero had broken that unwritten rule. You never said anything until you looked into the other person's eyes. It was the only thing you had to go on to decide whether or not you were going to play the 'nothing happened' game or face up to what you'd done.

Shit. It was no wonder he had avoided drunken sex in college. Meaningless sex was fine as long as it was done between two consenting, completely sober, adults.

Meaningless sex.

His forehead was still pressed against the tile, and his eyes watched the water swirl around the drain until the contact lenses began to dry out with all the steam and his vision blurred.

If he hadn't already made the decision that this was going to be his last job, in this particular 'field of work,' he would have by now.

tbc

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Kabe ni mimi ari, shoji ni me ari - the walls have ears, the doors have eyes.