28-Aug-2002
revised: 23-Dec-2004
Title: Ai no Gekisen
Author: Yoiko
Warnings: lemon (eventually), yaoi, dark/adult themes, possible NCS. Sexual slavery. It's a crossover with Ai no Kusabi, so if you're familiar with it,
that should give you an idea of the tone of the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own either Gundam Wing or Ai no Kusabi, and this story is not intended as any form of disrespect toward the rightful creators and owners of these wonderful characters and situations, neither is it meant to be taken as any claim to copyright of the characters and situations which were not created by me. Also, not one red cent of profit is being made here; it is purely for enjoyment purposes.
Notes: I did my best with the title; if I've done it right, it should translate to something like "love's battle." If not, for pity's sake please let me know so I can fix it. *^_^*
Zechs tossed pale blond hair back over his shoulder and tried to avoid looking out the windows of his car. While it was true that Midas, the pleasure city of Tanagura, was the setting for the best parties... even having an apartment in the elite, Blondies-only district of Apatia wasn't enough to make up for having to travel through Ceres to get there.
Ceres. Home of the wasted, genetically poor humans who didn't fit into civilized society, descendents of the fools who had tried to rebel against Jupiter's rule. The wretched refuse. The mongrels.
A movement caught his eye, and against his better judgment, Zechs found himself glancing over at the pack of mongrels just off to the side. They seemed to have found a victim; they circled around like sharks, or possibly vultures, waiting for a sign of weakness.
"Stop the car," Zechs heard himself saying, and he watched as the pack parted for a moment, revealing that their target was a fair boy, surely no more than 15 by the size of him. His dark brown hair was the only thing that marked him as a mongrel; everything else about him, from his fair skin to his finely-muscled young body, spoke of quality beyond what the mongrels typically bred. Almost before he knew what he was doing, Zechs got out of the car and began striding purposefully toward the pack.
One of the dark ones had cut the boy; he had one hand to his throat, fingers pressing against the welling blood in a futile effort to stop it. His other hand was curled into a fist, and his dark blue eyes snapped with fury. The man with the knife darted forward again, and the blade, sharp enough to fillet the boy where he stood glaring his defiance, gleamed in the light of the dying sunset.
Between one moment and the next, Zechs caught the wrist of the knife-wielding man in a punishingly hard grip. The man shrieked, and dropped his knife, and Zechs gazed at him coldly as he squeezed, just barely stopping before the bones snapped.
"B-Blondie!" one of the other men stammered, and the pack broke off, each of the mongrels scrambling for cover as Zechs finally released his grip. He watched the last of the dark men stagger off to lick his wounds, then turned to face the boy who'd caught his attention.
His features were disarmingly fine and almost delicate, in spite of the fiery glare in those wide blue eyes. Gorgeous, deep blue eyes, sweet little mouth, and that body... Zechs wondered why this one hadn't been picked as a pet. Well, the hair was a problem, but the boy should've at least been offered a job as furniture.
"So. You're not afraid of the Big, Bad Blondie?" Zechs asked, quirking an eyebrow at him in mild amusement. For a moment, the boy's glare eased, and it looked as though he were about to speak... then he fainted dead away.
"You can go in now." Zechs started out of a half-daydreaming state, ran a hand over his face, and followed the doctor into the room. The boy lay, looking pale and fragile in his hospital bed, and the sight of the white bandage circling his throat made Zechs's heart beat just a little faster. The only thing wrong with the image was the paper-crisp hospital gown covering that luscious body.
"He lost a great deal of blood, but he's stable now," the doctor murmured softly. "He was very lucky."
"When can he be released?" Zechs asked.
"As early as tomorrow... as long as he isn't involved in anything too strenuous."
"Understood," Zechs said, smiling wryly.
"And... he may be mute. We did effect some repairs, but the vocal chords were damaged. He should wait a week before even attempting to speak." Zechs waved a hand in dismissal, and the doctor bowed deferentially, then left. Zechs was alone with the boy. He pulled up a chair and waited. It was only a short time later that his patience was rewarded as dark blue eyes opened hazily. The boy looked about, his eyes lighting with recognition as he caught sight of Zechs; one hand raised to hesitantly trace the bandage at his throat.
"Don't try to speak," Zechs said, and the boy's eyes narrowed, regarding him warily. "The doctor says there was some damage to your vocal chords."
The boy nodded, and turned his head away, clearly dismissing him. Zechs was torn between aggravation and an incredulous sort of amusement. What a lot of nerve!
"Given your condition," Zechs said, opting for amusement, "I can't really ask you your name. I think I'll name you 'Heero.' "
That got his attention! Those lovely eyes were fairly snapping with fury as the boy--Heero--turned to glare at Zechs. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then motioned with his hands as though writing with pen and paper.
"You can write?" Zechs asked, surprised; Heero further surprised him by slapping the mattress in aggravation. "It was a perfectly reasonable question. After all, writing isn't the sort of skill a Pet needs."
The reference to Pets only made Heero even more furious, and although he gave a curt nod in answer to the question, his expression was murderous. Zechs smiled, and went to get a pencil and a small notepad, and handed them to Heero with one eyebrow raised in challenge. Heero scowled at him, scribbled rapidly for a few moments, then held the notepad up, jabbing his forefinger at it for emphasis.
"MY NAME IS QALEN WINNER," the notepad said in plain, block letters. "I AM A BLONDIE. YOU WILL ADDRESS ME AS AN EQUAL."
Zechs's eyes widened in surprise, and then he laughed, incredulous. What nerve! "You seem to be a little overwhelmed by the painkillers, Pet," he said, not unkindly.
Heero huffed angrily, and scribbled some more, and thrust the notepad under Zechs's nose.
"DON'T YOU DARE PATRONIZE ME! I DEMAND THAT MY FAMILY BE CONTACTED AT ONCE!"
"You know, a Pet can be punished for making a statement like that," Zechs said, his own blue eyes beginning to narrow dangerously. He'd tried to be lenient, but enough was enough!
Heero tore off the page and crumpled it, and on the next page wrote, "I AM A BLONDIE!" in huge letters, the pencil jabbing almost hard enough to tear the paper.
"I'm going to get the doctor," Zechs said. "Maybe you need a change of medication." He turned and walked toward the door, and the notepad sailed across the room and bounced off his head.
"That does it!" Zechs stormed back across the room and stood towering over the boy, who glared defiantly up at him. "Drugs or no drugs, you won't be permitted to show such disrespect. You are still a Pet, above all things. My Pet."
The boy gasped voicelessly, and struck out at him, and Zechs wrestled with him until he had Heero's body pinned face-down beneath his own, both of the boy's wrists clasped in a bruisingly tight grip.
"You should be grateful," Zechs muttered into his Pet's ear. "I'm taking you off the streets and giving you a Pet ring. It's an honor to belong to one of my caste."
There was another voiceless little huff, and that sweet, lithe body bucked under him, surprisingly strong. Zechs trapped Heero's flailing legs under his own, and shifted enough to tug the starchy hospital gown out of the way and deliver a series of hard spanks to the boy's rounded backside. Heero thrashed under him, positively rigid with indignation, and Zechs could have sworn he heard his teeth gritting.
"Stop fighting," Zechs growled. "I won't stop until you lie still!" Heero's struggles became, if anything, more violent, and Zechs started to worry that his Pet would overtax himself. He reached for the nurse's call button and mashed it, then grabbed Heero's wrists again.
It seemed an eternity later that a nurse walked in, gaped at the sight of a Blondie sprawled out on top of a straining Pet, and blushed.
"Get the doctor!" Zechs snapped. "He's out of control!"
"Yes, sir!" the nurse gasped, and rushed out, and a few moments later the doctor barrelled through the door, red-faced and out of breath. He took one look at Heero, pulled out a syringe and emptied it into one reddened buttock. Within a few moments, Heero's body went limp. Zechs eased off of him, and helped the doctor turn the boy over and arrange his limbs comfortably.
"Are you certain this is the one you want?" the doctor asked. "He seems to be a wild one."
"Yes," Zechs said, and brushed his long hair back out of his face with one hand. "I'll have this one, and none other. He'll be a refreshingly spirited Pet."
" 'Spirited' is one way to put it," the doctor said with a wry smile, and Zechs laughed.
When Heero next woke, Zechs was peering down at him and smirking. The boy scowled up at him, unintimidated, and the only indication that he even remembered the spanking was the slight flush of humiliation--or barely-controlled rage--staining his cheeks.
"So. You think you're a Blondie, do you?" Zechs asked, and held a small mirror in front of Heero's nose. "How do you explain this, then?"
The boy's eyes widened slightly, and his hands clenched into fists as he turned from the mirror to give Zechs an accusing glare.
"As you see, your hair and eyebrows are somewhat dark for a Blondie."
Heero gestured to indicate paper and pencil again, but Zechs ignored him.
"It's true that you have fine skin and fine features, but there's no mistaking your Mongrel heritage. So. You should consider yourself lucky that I'm willing to take you in as a Pet."
The boy's breathing had quickened, and his fists were tight enough that the knuckles showed white.
"The first step, of course, is to give you this," Zechs said, and he crossed the room to lay the mirror down on a table, trading it for a white box. Heero was still glaring poisonously at the Blondie as he opened the box, drawing out a Pet collar. It was finely made, supple white leather with a single gleaming, silver ring at the front, and a clasp that would meld invisibly once fastened. Once it was on, Heero would be truly his; the Pet ring would not only enable Zechs to trace Heero's presence anywhere in the city, but would also assist in controlling his unruly Pet.
As he approached, the boy leaped from the bed and lashed out at him with a single, vicious kick, throwing a shocked Zechs to the ground easily. Stunned, the Blondie barely managed to catch Heero's ankle and trip him.
"DOCTOR!" Zechs bellowed. Heero kicked his way free of the iron-hard grip and scrambled for the doorway, flimsy hospital gown flapping behind him. There were two nurses running for him, so he sped in the other direction and ran right into a third nurse, an oversized red-headed male who outweighed Heero by a great deal. There was a brief scuffle, and Heero pushed the nurse away, barely conscious of a pain in his upper arm. The hallway started to swim in his vision, and he raised one hand to find a syringe sticking out of his arm; he yanked it out, and staggered to the nearest door.
It was a supply closet, with rows of shelves of paper-crisp hospital sheets and flimsy gowns, bandages and bed pans... Heero barely managed to close the door and throw his dead weight against a cabinet of bed pans, tipping it over enough to fall heavily across the door. Then there was nothing but darkness, and blood rushing in his ears, and his heart pounding, and a sickening, weightless sensation.
It took them more than two hours to break into the supply closet. The cabinet Heero had toppled was wedged firmly enough to prevent the door's swinging in, and the hinges were, lamentably, on Heero's side. When they finally made their way into the supply room, it was to find Zechs's new Pet curled up on the floor, sleeping peacefully.
Not one of them was fooled by his innocent, harmless appearance--not after he'd bowled over a Blondie and broken the red-haired nurse's arm. They carried him back to his room, deposited him carefully on the hard little hospital mattress, and bound him to the metal frame with restraints tough enough to hold even a Blondie.
Zechs glared down at his new Pet for a few moments. Beautiful he might be, but Zechs couldn't afford to have his Pet behave so shamefully.
"I'll have to punish you, Pet," he muttered, and Heero's eyes opened drowsily. The boy blinked at him, obviously confused, and then his eyes widened as he discovered his wrists and ankles were bound.
"Don't bother struggling," Zechs said, mildly surprised that the drugs had worn off so quickly; the doctor had told him Heero would sleep for several more hours. "Not even I could break those restraints. You're terribly spoiled, aren't you?" Heero glared at him. "Ungrateful Pet," Zechs continued. "First, I'm going to collar you. Tomorrow I'm going to take you home, and we can begin your education in proper behavior for one of your station, starting with a punishment for your earlier behavior. I will not tolerate disrespect or disobedience."
Heero gasped as Zechs brought the collar out again, and he strained violently against the restraints, his eyes wild. Zechs allowed him a few moments' worth of struggling, to prove his point, and when Heero finally fell back against the mattress, exhausted and hopeless, Zechs couldn't help but smile at him.
Heero shook his head in frantic denial, but Zechs ignored him and fastened the collar loosely over the bandages. The silver Pet ring hung just low enough to frame the hollow between Heero's collarbones, and Zechs traced it with his fingers, its cool metal surface warming against Heero's skin. Zechs's new Pet made a choked little sound of distress, and Zechs raised his eyes to meet Heero's.
"Don't!" Heero had opened his mouth to shout, but despite the force of it, all that came out of his raw throat was a hoarse whisper.
"You're not supposed to try to talk, my pretty little Pet," Zechs said, smiling. The expression on Heero's lovely face, mingled fury and fear and... something else... only made it all the more entertaining.
"I'm a Blondie!" The boy had definitely shifted into pure fury, his reddened face screwed up in a vicious scowl. "Take your hands off me!"
"Ah, ah, ah, my Pet," Zechs said, slapping Heero lightly across the mouth--just hard enough to shock him into stillness. "I don't know what your previous Master was like, but I'll tolerate none of that. Unless you wish to be gagged, keep your mouth shut."
Heero gaped at him, stunned, and Zechs gave him a light pat on the cheek before heading for the door. "Sleep well, Heero," he said. "Tomorrow, you begin a new life."
As the door swung shut behind him, he distinctly heard "Fuck you!" in a harsh whisper; Zechs paused, shook his head, and continued on his way, thinking that he had his work cut out for him.
End Part 1
(:./yoiko/ang1)
