Archive: http://www.fanworkrecs.com
Disclaimers: I don't own the characters from Gundam Wing, I just play with them for non-profit fun until they run screaming back to their creators.
Warnings: AU - AAAAAAAAAAAU. Some yaoi, lemon, violence, language. You should be a legal adult to read this. Open-mindedness helps, too.
Pairings: all over the map; Duo-centric. yaoi and het.
Author's Notes: A huge helping of "suspension of disbelief" would be appropriate before you read this. I'm sure J or G could explain the science behind it, but they're kinda dead right now...
Part 6 ~ Mess (cont'd)
Rational thought swirled away with the water down the drain, and for a long moment Duo simply gaped at the athletic vision in front of him.
Unflustered by his staring, Trowa turned his head to the side, apparently perusing the selection of shampoos. He said, over the hiss of the shower, "You're Duo Maxwell, right?" Without waiting for confirmation, he continued, "You can call me Twister."
What the...?
Duo drew breath to speak, but Trowa talked right over him. "You've been in here for fifteen minutes, and you haven't done a thing. Mr. Wheat doesn't like to be kept waiting, and I would strongly suggest" and here Trowa pinned him with a deadly serious look, "that you don't annoy him. He will have you killed if you displease him. Understand?"
"Uh..." Duo blinked, the coldly logical part of his mind slowly figuring out that Trowa was infiltrating Wheat's organization using the cover name Twister, but his position wasn't secure enough to protect Duo if Wheat really wanted him dead. "Yeah. Yeah, I get it."
"Good." His friend squirted some liquid soap onto a loofa glove, and then gestured with it. "Turn around. I'm going to wash you."
"WHAT!?!" Duo straightened right up in shock, and nearly lost his balance. Trowa caught one of his arms and twirled him around, deftly avoiding the swinging braid. Duo staggered, smacking his hands up against the shower wall to avoid falling.
Trowa's arm snaked around his chest and held him up. The other hand began rubbing the loofah firmly against his back. "Just stand still," he said calmly.
"Hey!" Duo protested, but he had to admit to himself that it felt good. The soft scratchy glove massaging his muscles felt good, the sensation of layers of dirt loosening and washing away felt good, and the strong male body pressed firmly against his side felt really, really good.
From the corner of his eye, he could just see Trowa leaning in closer, bringing those thin lips down to... to kiss him? to bite him like a vampire? to...
...whisper in his ear, the warm exhalation bringing goosebumps to his arms and legs despite the steaming shower. "Duo... There are bugs everywhere. Talk quietly, understand?"
Duo nodded, the revelation working better than a drench of cold water to steady him. He stood a little straighter, wishing he felt a little more alert.
The loofah circled and swooped from shoulders to butt, and Duo was profoundly grateful that his body was too overtaxed to respond. He didn't think he could handle one more embarrassment.
"Um... Tro," he muttered, "Thanks. For - y'know, with Wheat back there. I owe ya one."
The loofah was moving around his neck, now, over his shoulders and down each braced arm in turn. Trowa had shifted to stand almost directly behind him, one arm still holding him tightly. Words floated into his ear, barely above a breath. "Give me your word that you won't betray me to Wheat, and we'll call it even."
"Trowa!" Duo protested softly, "I wouldn't...!" He broke off as he turned his head to meet a deep green gaze of wariness mixed with pity, all overlaid with determination. The wariness he supposed he deserved, given his unstable state, but it was the pity that made him drop his eyes, even as he despised himself for a coward for doing so.
He said softly, "I give you my word, Tro. I won't betray you." He felt rather than saw the minute relaxation in the body pressed against his, a subtle release of tension, as if Trowa hadn't been at all sure Duo would cooperate.
Duo bit his lip. Maybe Trowa had reason to be worried. Who knew what sort of stupid things he might blurt out when he was high on Bliss? And maybe he had already proven himself to be unreliable - he could clearly remember that sudden flash of memory, of Trowa protecting Quatre. Had that happened when he was drugged up?
"Trowa," he whispered, dreading the answer yet needing to know, "is Quatre alive?"
The loofah paused in its gentle motion over his chest. "Yes," Trowa answered, just the faintest hint of puzzlement in his voice.
"Ohhhhh..." Relief weakened his knees and he swayed a little.
Trowa eased him down onto the built-in shower seat, saying, "Sit down before you fall down," in Twister's bored tone, for the benefit of whoever might be listening. The acrobat knelt and braced one of Duo's feet against his thigh, sliding the soapy glove up and down the raised leg.
Duo leaned back against the tiled wall and rubbed his hands over his face, hushed words describing his fear and lancing the sick worry of it at the same time. "I just remembered that time when you had to protect Quatre from me, but I don't know if I hurt him, or killed him, or what..." He trailed off as Trowa tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, signalling his incomprehension.
"He was completely out of it, and you were kneeling, cradling him against your chest, remember?" Duo persisted. "You said you wouldn't let me kill him..."
Trowa frowned and shook his head slightly. "That never happened."
Duo blinked.
"Bliss does affect the memory," Trowa said in a thoughtful undertone.
But it seemed so real... If it were the drug affecting his mind, he would have expected the hallucinations to be weird psychedelic bursts of colour, or reality-bending images...
...like those strange visions of purple beams of light and flying past brilliant sparks set in a background of deepest black, for instance.
Shit. Maybe he was delusional.
But were all his memories false? What if all he could remember - that feeling of having once been competent, clever, a strong survivor - what if it were all a lie? What if he had never been anything more than what he was now - a weak, thieving addict, relying on others to get him out of trouble?
Duo turned his head away, fighting a feeling of helpless panic. He didn't trust a lot of people, but himself he trusted implicitly; or at least... he had up until now.
Then another unwelcome thought intruded. If he couldn't trust his own memories, then how did he know he could trust Trowa?
"Duo."
He shivered, feeling utterly lost.
"Listen to me."
Warm fingers grabbed his chin, forcing his head around to meet Trowa's intense gaze.
"Deal with whatever memory problems you're having after you've gotten out of here alive. I have an idea of how to help you do that, but right now we have to act as we are expected to."
Duo nodded numbly, not trusting his voice. Not trusting anything.
"Close your eyes," Trowa ordered, holding up a soapy facecloth. "I'm going to wash your face."
Duo hesitated, well aware that with the sound of the shower and his eyes shut he would be effectively deaf and blind to any attackers sneaking up on him. Of course, he wasn't in any shape to either run away or beat off an attack, even if he were warned, so maybe it just didn't matter.
Feeling as if he were putting his life gingerly in his friend's hands, he closed his eyes.
The washcloth scrubbed under his bangs and began to move over his face. He could feel the blood thundering in his ears, panic beating in time with his racing pulse. He forced himself to keep his eyes shut, to follow his initial instinct to trust Trowa.
He tried to order his racing thoughts. He knew from what Trowa had said that the two of them knew each other before they'd met today. He knew that Trowa was hiding his real identity from Wheat, and was trusting Duo to keep that secret. He knew that both he and Trowa knew Quatre.
The one memory that Trowa had disputed had come to Duo as a staggering flash of imagery... maybe that was a clue that it wasn't real. There was no reason to assume that his more normal memories and instincts about the other two pilots were wrong. So that meant he could trust Trowa.
So why was his heart still rabbiting in his chest?
Trust, he told himself.
"All done," Trowa's voice murmured in his ear. He shivered and blinked open his eyes, feeling relieved and released. There were no hordes of enemies waiting to attack him, no psychos poised with a knife, just his friend, squirting more soap on the washcloth.
The cloth dipped between his legs, and Duo slammed his knees together automatically. OK, so his instinct to trust Trowa didn't extend that far! "Ahhhh... eh-heh-heh... I can do that part," he said with a nervous grin.
Trowa merely nodded and passed him the cloth. Then he pulled Duo to his feet and nudged his shoulder to turn him around into the spray of water. "I'll start on your hair, then."
Duo let out his breath in a little sigh and quickly cleaned himself. He could feel Trowa unravelling his braid, separating the strands and neatly catching the various small items hidden within as they fell.
A moment later hands on his shoulders turned him around again. Trowa slid one hand deeply into Duo's hair, the other hand upending a shampoo bottle. The cool gel spread as it hit his head, and strong fingers flexed, massaging his scalp.
Duo bit back a moan of pleasure. He really shouldn't be thinking of this as standing naked in a hot shower with a handsome, sexy man running talented hands over his skin. The situation was far too tense to be thinking about physical pleasures.
Yeah. Right.
Trowa shifted, putting his arms around Duo to better reach the hair hanging down his back. He stepped closer, looking down over Duo's shoulder at what his hands were doing.
Duo was acutely aware of the lean male body in front of him. He was even more aware of the fingers that were working the lather through his long hair, grazing against his skin occasionally as they worked their way down.
OK, he definitely needed to think of something else now.
He leaned forward slightly and rested his forehead against Trowa's shoulder, closing his eyes and trying to regain his composure.
He was leaning his head against Heero's shoulder, his pulse hammering and his breath coming short. He had been terrified, but the strong arms around him, the gentle hands untangling his hair, the sheer solidity of his partner's warm body comforted him more than he could say.
He jumped back, unnerved by the phantom sensations overlaying reality. How could he have forgotten his partner, his best friend? "H-Heero?" he whispered.
He felt Trowa start slightly, felt the soapy hands slip out of his hair, but he ignored the acrobat in favour of the horde of memories welling up in his mind. He could see Heero typing steadily on his laptop, his deadly glare, the way his eyes lightened just before he gave in to one of his rare amused smirks, the smell of cordite and-
Duo whipped his head around to look over his shoulder at his partner. Heero's face was twisted with pleasure, his body trembling and slick with sweat as he slowly pressed his erection deeply into Duo, stretching and spreading him with gentle force.
Duo stumbled back against the wall, eyes wide. "Heero's my lover?!?" he gasped out, disbelieving. Ohhhh, no, no, no! He couldn't have forgotten THAT - it must be a hallucination.
But Trowa was nodding slightly. "Yes. He was."
He was? So that flash really was a memory?!? After a moment of incredulous gaping, Duo smiled widely, feeling great joy and a bone-deep sense of comfort filling him - Heero was his lover, his lover, Heero loved him...
But then Duo caught Trowa's expression, or lack of one. His smile faded as he realized that there had been a tiny emphasis in the other pilot's flat expression, just the slightest stress on the last word. He was.
Past tense.
End Page 17
(:./wingnut/alter17)
