Kracken
Disclaimer:I don't own them and I don't make any money off of this.
Warning:Male/male sex, graphic, violence, language
Tin Soldiers
Above and Beyond
"Do you know what you look like?"
I grunted, not turning to look at Heero. Stretched out on my stomach, he had a good view of my pair of red speedos, the curve of my well defined ass, and my long legs. The rest of me was covered, though, by my thick braid, mixed with micro braids, tied with beads and colored threads, and a loose tangled of escaped hairs. Sunglasses hid my eyes from the bright sunshine and helped me read the folded notebook of mission specs on the towel underneath me. Yeah, I know I looked good. Heero liked to tell me about it... a lot. I'd kept the braids and beads in just for him, after all.
"Like... a poster boy... a poster boy for illicit thoughts," Heero went on doggedly.
Looking over the top of my sunglasses I was ready to tell him to leave me alone, when a cell phone lowered and took my picture. I growled, annoyed, "Heero, you pervert, I'm working here!"
In his work clothes, basic black and white button down collar, Heero looked slicked back and dangerous as he crouched down and laughed. "I told you he was working, Quatre," he said into the cell phone.
Okay, now I was totally embarrassed. Snagging the phone out of Heero's hand, I snarled, "I know I have a deadline, daddy, so don't worry. I just think better out of a climate controlled office space."
"I'm sorry, Duo," Quatre retorted, "But you need to leave better notes. A stick figure, surfing over dying mission specs, doesn't say, 'Duo Maxwell has gone to the beach to work.'. Neither does, 'Too stuffy in here.' "
It made perfect sense to me. So did not trying to figure out my mission game plan in a place so far removed from... well, reality.
"I'll have a full over view in the morning," I promised. "So, why don't you two perverts stop looking at my ass and go back to your own jobs?"
"I have my own ass to look at, thank you," Quatre replied primly. "Heero is your problem. He's off for the rest of the day."
Any time Quatre Winner says 'ass' ,you can't help but laugh. My laugh was cut short, though, as Heero snapped the waist band of my swimsuit and said, as he pocketed his cell, "At least take your ass back to our place, where I can look at it and not bake."
Our place. I had just gotten used to my place, on the beach, and now I had Heero in my place... our place... on the beach. Maybe my dreams don't seem very complicated to most, but that's only because the Heero part had seemed about as impossible as getting my Gundam back and taking a joy ride.
I stood up and grabbed my things. "Okay, suit boy, I'll save you, but you have to give me some peace and quiet once we get back inside."
Heero looked disappointed. Dark, handsome, sexy, and pouty, it was a deadly combination and my mission suddenly didn't seem all that urgent. My mind was already on the part where I pushed him on the bed and climbed on top, when he reached out with a frown and rubbed a thumb along the center of my forehead.
"Pimple," Heero declared and then grinned at my blush. "Reaching puberty at last?"
I shoved his hand off and felt it myself. It stung a little. Of all the stupid things...
"A little alcohol," Heero suggested as we headed back to our bungalow.
"Like you would know," I growled back. Pimples had never dared Heero Yuy's face, I was sure of it. He'd probably shoot them if they did."Why do these things always happen when I need to impress someone?" I groaned.
Heero laughed as he caught me around the waist and walked with me into our home. "They wouldn't expect anything else."
If you were expecting a designer's dream home, well, keep that dream, because that's as close as it'll ever get. We're together, but not together when it comes to housekeeping. Neither of us can operate the vacuum or have ever suffered from dishpan hands. We try out the limits of the dishwasher with dishes covered in two day old food that's hardened to gundanium. Sand makes a trail in from the front door and onto hardened wood floors. They're as unpolished and unwaxed as they day we first turned the key in the lock. We accused each other of having used the last of the toilet paper and get annoyed that we can never find our wallets or car keys in the demilitarized zone that has become the bedroom floor. Dirty clothes never find it to the laundry basket, and the laundry basket takes a long while to make it to the laundry, only a few bungalows away. Hey, we're working guys, saving the Earthsphere, so cut us some slack.
We did have a nice view of the beach and air conditioned comfort to escape the baking sands. The bed was nice, too, and we spent a lot of time in it. Yeah, we were really milking the 'newlywed' thing for all it was worth and I was loving it... and him. Pinch me, I'm in heaven. All my fifteen year old dreams hadn't even teased the edges of the reality of having Heero Yuy for mine. For one, he was a man, not a gangly, sullen boy, and he'd filled out really, really well. He'd also had a chance to chip off a lot of that 'soldier boy' conditioning, too, and we might not have done so well, if we'd had to deal with that.
I really didn't have to wonder what Heero thought of me. The guy liked to tell me and I liked hearing it. As you probably noticed, I get my foot stuck in bear traps more times than I can count. I'm not a poster boy for sex, I'm a poster boy for total disaster. Something bad going on, Duo is there. How Heero can look past that, and see that I'm worth anyone's attention, amazes me every day.
Heero snagged us some canned drinks and I sipped on mine as I jumped onto the bed and spread out my notes and files. The small click made me freeze instantly. My senses told me that I'd never heard it in that room before, so, odds were, that it couldn't be a good thing.
"Heero,"I said, keeping my voice low. He turned, with an annoyed look, in the doorway of the bedroom, about to growl at me for getting my sandy feet on the bed, and then just shut up when I made a quick, military signal, to do just that; shut up and freeze.
I tried to keep calm, but I really didn't have to go through my mental file to identify that noise. I made a quick scribble on my papers and, very carefully, turned it to face Heero. Trap gun. It was a nasty contraption more suited to jungle warfare. It was simplicity itself; a gun set in a brace, with a trigger mechanism, probably a spring pad, set right under my ass. That meant that I was about to get a bullet right into where the sun don't shine. Not a good way to die, though the guys in forensics would have a laugh.
You have to know, that we'd been taught, though in different ways, to cover our tracks, to never let our guard down, and to make sure that no one knew where we went to sleep at night. Those habits had been hard to break. We were at peace, after all, right? Well, except that we weren't, actually. Heero and I were still fighting the bad guys. It wasn't out of the question that those bad guys might be trying to get some of their own back.
Heero was white, his hands shaking a little. He was scared shitless... for me. That might have made me all warm and fuzzy any other time, but right then, I was thinking of his safety... and my ass.
"Good thing you have a boney ass," Heero whispered, very low, coming to the conclusion that it wasn't voice activated but not taking any big chances by being louder. "You probably didn't sit on it all the way."
"Keep it up, Yuy, and I'll die laughing," I whispered back sarcastically, "if you've got any better things to say, I'm all ears."
Heero's eyes were going over every inch of the room, but he was coming to the same conclusion as I was. "It might be survivable," he tried again, wanting me to relax, and definitely not wanting me to do anything drastic to save myself.
There were just too many crude responses to that one. I left them unsaid as he went on hands and knees and tried to find the mechanism. "He was in a hurry," he muttered. "He didn't even try hiding it."
"Could have been a she," I replied.
"Made any women mad at you lately?" Heero wondered as he went flat on his stomach and slid under the bed.
"Me? What about you?" I retorted."I think Claire was pretty pissed when you took the last of the coffee at work."
We weren't laughing. They were jokes told in flat tones. We just needed to talk, needed to keep from screaming.
Something made a metallic ping. Every muscle in my body flinched and I panted in relief, trying not to hyperventilate when I realized that I wasn't dead. Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to move. Heero, the love of my life, checked for more booby traps, combing the room thoroughly, before he took my hand and pulled me off the bed. I was still expecting a bang and my legs turned to rubber as he took me out of that house, held up by his strong arms, and half carried me out of there.
What? You were expecting some sort of devil may care, 'Oh, that was nothing!' bit? Try almost getting a bullet in your ass and see how well you do. My tough act was still back there on the bed and I wasn't arguing when Yuy called Headquarters and made me take cover in the laundry. Sitting on a closed wash machine, I tried to get my shit back together. I laughed shakily and tried, "Guess the good life's been making us lazy."
Heero's expression went pained. He gave the men and women, who were getting an eyeful of our soap opera, a dangerous look as he slipped an arm around my lower waist, and replied, "We just need better locks on the doors."
It made me chuckle, though it was a bit unsteady. We were going to need a lot more than better locks. Someone had tried to kill us.
"We're just lucky that you have the cat," I told Quatre as I sat heavily
before his desk. You can't really call it a desk, it's huge, dark wood with
a mile wide top as shiny as glass. He didn't litter it with papers. That wasn't
Quatre's style. He had a very slim laptop before him and a slim, black cell
phone beside that. I didn't let that fool me, though. I was pretty sure that
he had his fingers on the pulse of the entire Earthsphere... somehow... somewhere...
"Ah Mr. Bingle," Quatre nodded in sympathy.
Heero's cat had been sent to paradise. After I discovered a severe allergy to the beast, we had consigned him to one of Quatre's mansions, where,. I was sure, he was being given everything a cat could possibley dream of. "You still haven't explained the 'Mr. Bingle', Quatre."
Quatre looked annoyed. "We are speaking of attempted murder, Duo. We can discuss cat names later."
"I thought 'Lugar' was fine," Heero grunted from his seat at my side. You were expecting fluffy?
"Investigations came up with a few possible leads," Quatre doggedly continued. "I'm concerned that you might let your personal feelings interfere, so I'm allowing Wu Fei to join you. He'll be your team leader and you are to follow his commands, is that understood?"
I wasn't happy about that. Fei was a great fighter, but sometimes, he was too caught up in rule books and procedures. He didn't like fly by the set of your pants decisions. Though we'd worked well on the last mission, he'd made it clear that we were like oil and water... okay, he made a comparison that was a lot less nice than that, but I'm over it. I agree with him, by the way, a hundred percent. He needs crack troops that follow him like shit on his heel and me and Heero need thinkers and doers. Not really compatible styles.
"Okay," I grunted. "Fei tags along and makes sure we don't pop Mr.Bad Guy, that's fine, but putting him in charge..."
"That or you're completely off the case and on the next plane out of town until we solve it," Quatre snapped, with that steely tone he usually reserved for when he meant business. It wasn't debatable and both Heero and I knew it. I didn't need his tug on my elbow to get that.
I rubbed at the back of my neck and then tried not to swear as I grunted, "All right. He's in charge. When do we start?"
Quatre relaxed. He at least refrained from looking smug when he won. "Tomorrow. For now, I'll need you to move your things to the Headquarters dorm, where there's more security. I'm afraid that you'll have to separate. They only have larger apartments for..." No one wants to say 'regular' couples. It sounds like shit, as if what me and Heero have together is dirty or just playing around. We've come along way since the 'kill a fag' days, but people could still show some complete stupidity when it came to something like unmarried and same sex couples. As far as housing was concerned, we didn't exist.
Heero was scowling, but nodding too. "All right, Quatre. It won't be for long."
That made me even angrier. He agreed, just like that. Let's separate. Let's sleep in separate beds. I suddenly felt like Mr. Bingle, shuttled off because I caused problems. I don't remember much after that. I closed up and just simmered, jamming my hands into my pockets and stalking after Heero after he said something in the way of 'goodbye'.
"You don't have much confidence in me, do you?" Heero suddenly said, and he sounded sad.
That brought me up short, standing with wide eyes at his retreating back. I scrambled to catch up, then, and tried not to sound like an idiot. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"We won't be sleeping in separate rooms," Heero told me firmly. "It will be cramped, but we'll manage."
I grinned and then felt like I'd messed things up between us. I had doubted him. "I... I'm just used to getting kicked to the curb," I managed. "It makes believing that it'll happen again pretty damned easy. I'm sorry, Heero."
He grunted and then hooked an arm around my waist. A few people gave us furtive looks as they passed, but we weren't a secret. "No one is ever going to separate us," Heero promised me. "Not a maniac planting bombs under our bed, or a dorm monitor."
"He could be dangerous," I retorted.
"The bomber?" Heero asked, confused.
"No, the dorm monitor," I chuckled and he laughed with me.
"We'll show a combined front," Heero promised. "Even if he has a very sharp pencil, he won't prevail."
TBC
end