Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing nor its characters. I write for my own pleasure and not for any other profit.

Warnings: Rated R. Yaoi - Warnings: Yaoi, language, lime. This is a more serious fic and is suitable for very mature readers only. The content deals with adult themes. Angst and Drama

Note: This is a dark angst fic, mostly about Heero and Duo, though there are other relationships talked about. There are seven chapters, and just to let you know, (especially for those who want a 1+/x2 ending) this fic will have a more positive ending than it suggests in the beginning.

Author's note: I experimented with this story by telling it from many POVs. From the beginning to the end, it's told in the style of first person, present tense. Each ******* signals another POV. It might take you a paragraph or two to figure out who is talking, but it's not difficult once you get the feel for it. I apologize in advance to those who are Heero lovers, but things will get somewhat better as the story progresses.

Another Author's note: Alright, I give in. I'll post who's POV is at the beginning of each *********

Summary: Set after the wars, Heero starts down an unexpected road, finding another form of self destruction. His choices and life style end up hurting his friends, especially Duo.

Shifting Perspective
Part 4
by Dyna Dee


No matter what kind of a night I've had, I always wake up every morning at five thirty a.m. And it's not any different this morning, though my body is sluggish and feels like a used rag, which in my mind, it is, an old, dirty, used up and disgusting rag. I guess I finally fell asleep sometime in the early morning on a blanket on the floor, and as my eyes adjust to the dim light of pre-dawn filtering through the uncurtained window, I look into the face of the person lying next to me. I never caught her name, but her long, smooth leg is thrown over mine in an intimate manner, and I know that, like me, she is completely naked except for the portion of the blanket she managed to pull from me.

With shaky arms and legs I manage to dislodge her from off of me and stand, my legs feeling unsteady. Facing the direction of the bathroom, I stumble towards the open door, stepping over several other nude bodies and only vaguely remembering their faces. Once I reach the bathroom, I turn within the doorframe to look towards the bed and its occupants. In the middle of the bed I see Alex. He has a male and a female in bed with him, curled up against his sides. I note as I turn away in disgust that even in his sleep he has a satisfied smile on his face.

Shutting the door silently, I flick on the light and move to the sink. Turning on the hot water tap, I put both hands on either side of the basin as I wait for the hot water to flow out. I then make the mistake of raising my head and looking at my reflection in the mirror. What looks back at me is someone I barely recognize and truly despise. My eyes are dark circled and dead looking, my hair had been combed through by the fingers of complete strangers who were giving or taking sex from me. I look at my bruised lips and neck that is liberally marked with the suction of hungry lips, as is my chest. Bile rises up my esophagus and I turn and fall to my knees, successfully emptying the meager contents of my stomach into the toilet.

After a good run at trying to hack up my stomach, I stand on unsteady legs once again and rinse my mouth out, then reach for my toothbrush inside the medicine cabinet. With disgust I note it's wet and well used. I guess Alex's guests really know how to make themselves at home. I use my finger and toothpaste to clean out the vile taste out of my mouth.

I really do know better, as least I used to, but I can't seem to help myself as I look back into the mirror again. Was this what I have been reduced to? The whole weekend now comes back to me like a bad anchovy pizza. Where is the once perfect, disciplined and dedicated Soldier, as Duo used to call me? Where is the young man with principles worth dying for? Is the man once hailed to be the Man of the Century by powerful and influential people and the media, the one credited to have saved the Earth from being obliterated now only the man whore that Duo named me?

With my knees faltering again, I sink to the floor, my bare bottom coming in contact with the plush carpet that feels wet and sticky, and it's then that I realize someone has probably had sex on it. With no small amount of revulsion, I scoot back until my back is to the wall. "Why do I do these things to myself?" my conscience asks. I came home on Friday night from work with the clear intention of telling Alex that it was over between us. I'm sick and tired of him and want him out of my apartment. Oh, I probably wouldn't have put it that bluntly, but that's pretty much sums up the way I'm feeling after months of disenchantment with my bed partner. The only thing Alex is truly around for is the sex, and that has become less important over time, for me to have it with him.

However, as well intentioned as I was standing outside my apartment door, when I walked into the apartment I was surprised to find the room lit entirely by candles. Alex greeted me wearing only a champagne colored satin robe and a thong. Behind him were two very attractive people also dressed in silk and satin and a look of agreeing lust on their faces. Alex approached me, hips swaying and a wicked gleam in his eye as he announced that he had arranged a special weekend just for me. He whispered into my ear that the other two had been college acquaintances, and that they were there to play for the weekend.

"I've planned a wickedly wild weekend for you, lover," Alex had breathed into my ear, then teased it thoroughly with his talented tongue. "And this is just the beginning." Here," Alex moved away for only a moment to grab a full glass of wine. "Drink this Heero, it's laced with Enhancement."

I raised a skeptical eye at the red liquid. Enhancement was a drug used in some of the raunchier clubs. It performed exactly as its name suggested, it enhanced all your senses, making any touch or sensation to the skin heightened and increased sexual prowess. I looked over at the couple, raising their nearly finished glasses to me, lust burning in their eyes, and the man I hadn't been introduced to yet was already beginning to touch the woman in a suggestively intimate manner.

I couldn't resist the temptation before me, especially when Alex moved behind me and began to loosen my tie and unbutton my work shirt. "Why don't we watch while Linnette and Davy get things going?" he said seductively, and gave the other couple a nod of his head.

I found I was only capable of nodding in response to Alex's suggestion as I watched the couple put their goblets down and come together with what looked to be a magnetic force, mouths and hands aggressively seeking more contact. It wasn't long before I was completely undressed and the weekend began. It seems a blur now, but I remember that another couple arrived every four hours after that to join in with us, all of them seeming to have no inhibitions about giving their bodies to strangers and taking whatever they could get in return. The apartment now has at least twenty people in it that have shared their bodies with almost everyone in the room.

My stomach is lurching again, but this time I refuse to give into it as I feel anger rising within me. How cheap I've sold myself, I thought. I used to be someone my friends looked up to, someone the world and colonies looked to as a hero, someone Relena had considered worthy to be of interest, someone who had their soul mate offer his heart, and I threw it all away for cheap and tawdry sex.

I crawl my way to the bathtub and turn on the shower. I guess I am what Duo named me, had said everyone else had named me, a man whore. "Can I get any lower?" I question myself. Suddenly, I feel as if a layer of filth covers my entire body. I crawl over the side of the bathtub and into the shower spray as I sit on the floor, letting the extremely warm water fall down on me. Reaching for the soap, I begin to rub it furiously into my skin. A rough loufah sponge that Alex insists on having is used to try to scrape the taint off of me, brought on by the many hands and sweaty bodies that had touched me. I leave long red scratches on my body as I scrub to erase the memories that are now haunting me. I shampoo my hair next, then let the water rinse all the soap and filth along with a pink tint of blood down the drain.

Then I just sit there, under the cooling spray of water, physically clean but still feeling filthy. I honestly loath myself and what I've become. Somewhere the feeling I'd once gotten from the hunt for a sexual encounter had seemed worth it at one time, but now I feel only abhorrence at my lack of control. If any one had tried to tell me during my years fighting in the wars that I would be brought down to the level of having sex like an unpaid prostitute, I would have beaten them to a pulp. No wonder my friends have stayed away and left me with the lowest of the low. I've lost them, lost Duo. Raising my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, I hang my head, resting my forehead against my wet knees. My thoughts were dark and my mind is in a self-castigating mood, and I finally give into the need for tears, silent, bitter tears. I alone have done this to myself. I can't blame anyone, not the war, nor my desire to not stain Duo with my unworthiness, and not even my training. I made the conscious decisions to have sex with people of whom I couldn't even recall their faces or names.

With my body racked with silent sobs of sorrow for all I'd lost and with self pity for myself at my fallen, debauched condition, I start at an abrupt sound. A continuous knocking on the bathroom door brings me out of the darkness I'd fallen into. The shower water is no longer hot, but tepid and I lost track of time and wonder how long I've been in here?

"There are some of us out here who would like to use the shower before we leave," a woman's voice calls through the door. I shut off the water and reach for the towel on the towel rack.

Drying myself off, I come to the decision that this has got to end. I hear a murmur of voices, then Alex speaks through the door. "Heero, is that you in there? Open the door. Are you alright?"

I glare at that door knob. Alex was the one that set me up for this hedonistic weekend, and he will be the first thing I'll get rid of as I start to put my life in order.

"I want them all gone by the time I come out here," I growl back, giving Alex my most threatening tone of voice. "Five minutes," I warn.

"Don't be ridiculous Heero. They want to take a shower and freshen up. Is this the kind of thanks you give your guests?"

"They're your guests, Alex. I used up all the hot water and if they're not out of here in five minutes there will be hell to pay."

"What's the matter with you?" Alex asks, definitely exasperated.

"Now!" I shouted angrily, and instantly there's the sound of obvious movement on the other side of the door.

In what I judge to be five minutes, I open the door and walk out wearing a towel around my waist. I snort in disgust at seeing Alex lip locked with some black guy named Kyle who had his hands all over the Alex's slender body.

"Out!" I demanded in a killer's tone of voice. Both men jump back from each other and the so called visitor slinks out the door, leaving Alex to face me alone.

Wearing only his wrinkled satin robe, Alex sways his hips as he walks towards me his most enticing manner, hoping to cool my temper down before I burst. "What's the matter Heero? Don't tell me you didn't like your gift weekend, because I saw with my own eyes that you did."

I slap away the hands that come to rest on my upper arms. "Don't touch me," I snap. "I want you out of here as soon as you can pack your clothes."

The other man's brown eyes widen in shock, then narrow in anger. "So, Alex gives you the weekend of your dreams and you're going to toss me out on the streets. You really are selfish, self-centered, and hateful bastard," he shouts angrily and stomps his foot childishly as his face turns red.

Forcing myself to remain calm and in control, I turn a cold shoulder to him, my hands clenched into fists. "The weekend was your dream, Alex. You just wrapped it up in a pretty bow and presented it to me as a gift," I snarl, disgusted with the both of us. "It was like offering an alcoholic his own winery. You knew I wasn't capable of saying no, didn't you? But if anything positive can be pulled out of it, it's that I've finally had it." I turned to him to level him with a glare. "I feel filthy and used and I don't like it. I'm sick of you and sick to death of me. I want you to pack your things and get out of my apartment right now!"

Alex glares back into my hostile, smoldering eyes. "Do you have any idea how much I hate you right now, you asshole?" he asks me with a sissy snarl, and I can almost swear I see steam coming out of his nose.

"Probably as much as I've hated you for the last five months," I answer in a cold voice, then turn to go to the dresser and pull out some clean underwear.

Alex looks affronted, then turns to flounce his way to the closet and removes his suitcase. Opening it on the bed, he then begins to stuff it with his clothing from the closet and several dresser drawers. "You'll be sorry Heero," the tall blond huffs. "No one treats Alex like this, nobody!"

"It's not like you don't have anywhere to go," I pause in the middle of dressing to look at my former lover. "I know about you and your little afternoon pick-me-up. You can go shack up with Kyle."

The color treated, brown haired head shoots up, and Alex's eyes display guilt mixed with a little fear. He knows how strong I am and what I'm capable of, and I can see he is deciding not to pick a fight with me because we both know he will undoubtedly lose.

Ten minutes later the front door slams shut. It's now seven a.m. and if I hurry, I can be at the office on time. Feeling stiff and sore from my lamented weekend, I finish putting on my tie, socks and shoes then spend a few moments straightening up the bedroom and leave the otherwise messy apartment for a thorough cleaning when I get home from work.

Entering the high-rise Preventer's building, I'm grateful for the dress code requiring a uniform and a tie. With my collar fitted against my neck, many of the bruises are out of eyesight. I proceed to my office, take off my coat and sit behind the desk. Work will help to distract me from my present state of self loathing and from the random flashbacks of the repugnant weekend and some of the things I'd done that were now coming back to haunt me.

"Damn," I whisper as a wave of disgust aimed at myself flows through me and I lower my head into my hands. What I really want to do was to just curl up and disappear. I'm probably not worthy in my present, filthy state to even be a Preventer, a person charged with upholding the standards of peace between earth and the colonies. Peace, what the hell do I know about peace? It seems to be a life long, elusive goal, an ideal to strive for that has somehow always eluded me. And right now peace is so far from my dark thoughts that I'm sure it's going to be impossible for me to ever truly know what it is.

Duo, I think of him, conjuring his visage in my mind, a jaunty smile on his face that fills me wistful longing. At times like these I would have called him up and he would have come to me, dropping everything to reassure me; but he's gone. I immediately clamp down on the emotions that my friend's absence brings to me. I guess I'm just now realizing how much the former God of Death had been my peace. He taught so much about how to live, encouraged me to relax, to let down the barriers of emotion that had been trained into me from my childhood. He taught me to care for a friend, even though I guess I didn't outwardly show him how much I'd come to care for him. And he taught me how to play and to have fun just because it felt good. By the colonies I missed him.

"Heero?" Une's voice calls out from the direction of the door to my office, and I jerk with a start, lifting my head from my hands to see her looking at me in concern from my office doorway. I didn't even hear her approach.



The minute I look at Heero sitting in his office I can tell things aren't right. His face is buried in his hands and his whole posture speaks of exhaustion, which for him is very unusual. When I call his name, he starts with a slight jerk of his body, and he looks up at me with troubled, dark circled eyes that are evidence of a lack of sleep. Now I'm very concerned as I know he can usually go a couple of days with minimal rest and still look and function well. "Are you okay, you look terrible?" I ask him.

He gives me a non-answering shrug of his shoulders, something that reminds me more of Duo's mannerisms than Heero. "I must be coming down with something," he tells me in a dull voice. His eyes stray to what I have in my arms and he can see I have a number of files in them. From his raised right eyebrow, I can see he suspects one, if not all, are meant for him.

"Maybe you should go home," I suggest, holding tightly to the folders as I pull them up against my chest.

"I might after I get through some of this," he answers with weariness and motions to several folders on his desk.

My eyes narrow in suspicion. "Is everything alright at home Heero?" He knows I'm asking about his relationship with his..., what do I call him, his roommate? Lover? Oh yes, his name is Alex. It has been five months since Duo left and with each passing week it's become minutely apparent that Heero misses his friend more than he had thought possible. He's become more distant from his fellow co-workers and is communicating less with those he knows. He's retreating back into the anti-social person he was in the war, before Duo became his friend.

As far as I know, from a brief communication from Quatre, he's had no contact with the others, the exception being one call to Trowa while looking for Duo's whereabouts, and that, I was told, had ended badly. At the moment, Heero looks like he has never felt so alone in all his life. He has the look of an abandoned child.

"I ended things with Alex this morning. It was a rough weekend," he confesses, his eyes avoid looking directly at me.

I know it must have been a bad parting because normally Heero would never tell me anything personal or just how truly bad it was. Maybe, just maybe, events are transpiring that will lead Heero to get some help. From office hearsay, I gather that his lifestyle has toned down a bit since he's had a lover stashed in his apartment. But the things I'd heard about this Alex person has left something to be desired.

"Maybe you should go see Sally," I suggest as the concerned head of the Preventers.

"If I don't feel better, I will." His answer is clipped, letting me know he doesn't want to be pushed.

"Heero..." My voice is filled with concern as it softens, as does my face, but I'm halted by Heero's glare before I can voice my thoughts.

"Alright," I concede. "I'm not going to nag like a mother, but I'm worried about you. If you need help, you know you can come to me, don't you? I don't want to lose my best agent because he was too stubborn to reach out for help when he needed it."

"I don't need help," he insists.

"Well, just know that it's here," I reply. Taking the few steps forward, I place the top file folder on his desk. "Look this over when you have some spare time and give me a brief report on it," I instruct him, leaving just one of the six folders I had intended on handing over to him in the first place. Heero nods as he draws it towards him and flips it open to glance at the contents.

"Go home, Heero. Get some rest," I order in a firmer tone, then turn and leave his office, wishing I could do more to help him.



A sound penetrates the wall of deep sleep that I'm enjoying, causing me to wake up with a silent start, my eyes open and my mind tries to recall where I am. That right, I'm in the rec room; it's movie night. The four of us had been dressed in our pajamas and retreated to the rec room after the kitchen staff fixed us up with popcorn, a variety of chips and soda before they'd left for the evening. I'd settled myself down on the plush carpet with a pillow under my head, finding it an irresistible spot in which to watch the long movie Quatre had brought home for us to watch together.

I realize now that I must have dozed off as my sleep-filled eyes begin to focus on the dim light that's coming from the television and barely lights the room. I look up to see that there's a completely different movie on the screen than when I'd dozed off. I guess I've been sleeping for quite a while or the others just changed to a movie that was more to their liking. The sound on the television has been turned down very low, almost mute, but I suddenly realize that isn't what woke me up as I hear the sound again that did. I recognize it as a moan of passion coming from behind me.

Great, I think to myself. My three friends are probably making out on the couch while I'm sleeping like a baby next to them. But then I realize that the throaty sound seems much closer than the couch. Curious, I slowly turn my head until my eyes come to rest on the most erotic sight I've ever laid eyes on. My three friends are on the carpet next to me in the process of making love with each other. Wufei is on the bottom, his back on the floor and his pajama top is unbuttoned, the front material is pushed aside to expose his caramel skin and well-toned chest. His pajama bottoms are missing, probably that small lump just off to the side of his head. Even in the dimly lit room, his beautiful, brown skin contrasts greatly with Quatre's alabaster body, that happens to be completely devoid of any clothing whatsoever and is presently moving in a slow forward and backward motion between Wufei's raised legs. Trowa's attire matches Wufei's, his pants are elsewhere than where they'd been earlier that evening and his pajama shirt is unbuttoned and open as the taller of the three presses his hips into Quatre's backside. It's obvious that Trowa is the one in control of the lovemaking that I have unwittingly become a voyeur to.

Love, I know that's exactly what I am looking at, and I can't suppress the surge of jealousy that shoots through me. The look of passion and soft adoration on the three men's faces clearly define that their relationship is more than just physical attraction or mere gratification. In the five months I've lived with them, I've seem ample evidence of their genuine love and affection for each other, the kind of unreciprocated feelings I'd felt for Heero from the moment I'd met him.

I know they really care about me, these three friends of mine, they've proved that over and over with one of them sleeping next to me nightly, holding me and chasing away all the loneliness and bad dreams that have haunted me from childhood. They have worked out a system of taking turns. My first night here was with Wufei and the next night it was Quatre, followed by Trowa. They have continued that pattern the whole time I've been here, even when I protest that I'm disrupting their love life. They managed to convince me that they aren't being deprived, and now I can't help but wonder now how many nights I've fallen asleep in the rec room and this is how they caught for lost time and I'd never awakened before to realize it?

My body instinctively reacts to the sight before me, and whose wouldn't? The three were going slow, taking their time and enjoying the moment. After all, what's the rush? They have each other day in and day out and not one of them wishing to be elsewhere. Together they have found their Nirvana, their peace and fulfillment. Oh, I could join them, they've offered enough times without being pushy about it, but it hasn't felt right. Sure, I love them, but only as dear, wonderful friends. I just feel it wouldn't be right to join in their lovemaking when I'm not in love with them the way I feel I should be. And I know I'm loath to admit it, but I'm afraid. Yes, the self-proclaimed God of Death is afraid that once I give into a physical relationship without love, that I'll risk becoming like Heero. If I start, will I be able to stop? Heero is the strongest, mentally trained person I've ever met, and if he can't stop himself, who can?

Quatre's leaning forward and Wufei strains upward to accept his eager lips with his own, and Quatre murmurs against those lips his love to his Asian lover. They are beautiful, all three of them, separately and together. Trowa's bending forward and is kissing the pale back along Quatre's spine, causing the smaller, fairer man to moan at the sensations caused by the act of taking and being taken.

Ashamed to find myself to be such a Peeping Tom, I can feel my cheeks flush with heat and my pajama bottoms are noticeably tighter as my body begins to react and ache at the sight before me. I should turn away, in respect for them, but somehow I can't help myself from staring, they're so beautiful. I turn slowly to my side, not wanting to alert them of my watching their lovemaking. Though in the back of my mind I have to chuckle with amusement. If they didn't want me to see them making love, they wouldn't have put themselves in the position of being caught. They are all very careful, all the time, about expressing their physical attraction to each other, fearful of being caught in displaying any form of affection between them when the household staff are about. Quatre fears gossip will hurt his family's business and his lovers, so their caution is necessary in a household of hired help that could be bought out for a sensational tabloid story.

Taking in a quick, startled breath, I realize that I've been discovered as I sense that someone is staring at me. Looking over, I see Wufei's deep onyx eyes on me, a slight smile growing on his face as those passion-filled orbs scan down my body to see the obvious bulge in my pajama bottoms. With a flick of his finger, he motions me to scoot closer to him.

Uncertain that I should comply, I become aware that the other two have also turned to look at me. They slow their pace, almost, but never quite stopping the slow and steady rhythm of their lovemaking. As uncomfortable as I feel, I scoot closer, unable to resist the lure of being so close to something so near perfection and so far from me.

"Kiss me," Wufei commands me in a deep, thick voice as I reposition myself next to him.

I must look like a timid virgin, which I am, as I glance with uncertainty into his face. "I don't know," I begin to say, but am stopped by his finger on my lips.

"Just kiss me Duo. It'll be alright," he says gently, his face and eyes soft with passion.

I glance up at the other two, still moving above him and receive their nods of approval. I bashfully lean forward and kiss Wufei's mouth. It's certainly not the first kiss we've shared as I've been willing to let each of the three seemingly over-affectionate men hold, touch and kiss me often, but not in an overly sexual way or in a situation like this.

As our lips meet, we begin the kiss gently, lips grazing sweetly across each other's, his tongue, skirting between my lips, silently ask permission to enter. I'm so aroused by what I've seen and feel that I can't even think of refusing him.

"Beautiful," Quatre sighs above us.

As our lips stay locked together, I feel Wufei unbutton my pajama shirt and push the open front away from my chest. It's awkward for his hand to stroke me at the angle it's in, so he uses the back of his hand instead, which feels so smooth against my heated skin.

Then suddenly, his fingers are on the elastic waistband of my pajama bottoms, and from skilled practice, he is quickly inside them and his hand is wrapped in an exquisite manner around my painful erection.

"Oh God," I gasp at the pleasurable pain. I rarely let anyone touch me in this intimate way. Yeah, I've dated and have gone clubbing for years, but only occasionally did I find someone who turned me on enough to let him or her reach a hand into my pants and give me fulfillment. But this seems so incredibly different from those few, brief experiences. I am, at the moment, a part of their shared intimacy, the recipient of an extension of their love for each other. I'm not in love with them and am not going to give the only part of me that is considered virginal to them, but maybe this will be okay, a release at the hands of friends who wouldn't be, nor would make me feel, ashamed in the morning.

As good as these feelings are, not to mention that they are incredible and almost overwhelming, I force myself to keep my eyes open. I want to see what it's like for people who were in love to climax together. Is it truly different with someone you really loved, or have I been holding back from experiencing more by telling myself what I desperately wanted to believe? Have I been depriving myself of a chance for a fulfilling relationship that I might never have because my expectations are too high? Is waiting to have this intimate experience that my friends are experiencing until I find the person I truly love worth it?

Instinctively, I thrust my hips forward into Wufei's capable hand, my breathing is becoming erratic. I hear Quatre give a gentle cry and he stiffens over Wufei. The man whose hand is currently driving me to the edge arches up, finding his own completion. Trowa then gasps, and his hips still, pressing tightly against Quatre. I come last, overwhelmed by the sight next to me, and thrusting forward into Wufei's firm grip I reach the pinnacle of my climax.

When my breathing calms, as well as my beating heart, I open my eyes to see Quatre now laying on his side and cradled in Wufei's arms. A warm-brown arm is possessively wrapped around the blond's pale waist. Trowa is now spooned up on the other side of Wufei and has his long arm is draped around the both of them. I gaze contentedly into their faces to see all of them are wearing a peaceful, contented look, and all three have their eyes trained on me. Yet it's Quatre's gaze I hold as my friend's eyes are searching mine for something. Then, as if he's come to some conclusion, he gives me a gentle smile of sweet happiness. No words are needed as I smile back at him, at all of them, giving my silent gratitude to the three for being included in sharing their love for each other.

I think I now have the answer to my questions. The waiting is worth it. I want to wait to take that last step with someone that I love, however long it takes. I sigh, contented with the lazy sleepiness that comes over me. I know what I've just done with my friends isn't something I want to do too often, or I might just convince myself I am falling in love with them. Still, I can't deny that it was enjoyable and an intimate moment that I will always remember and cherish, and maybe, just maybe, one that I might be willing to share with them again.

on to part 5

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