Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the characters of the series.
Bandai/Sunrise/Sotsu have that privilege. I am not making _any_ money from
this. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I doubt it will even
entertain. Please do not sue me, for I am but a poor, unemployed student.
Category: Yaoi, Angst, Bitchy Pilots?
Rating: NC-17 for sexual content, yaoi, coarse language, angst, violence,
grossness, general bitchiness, objectionable content, etc.
Warnings: Yaoi, LEMON, angst, coarse language, gross situations, medical
impossibilities, violence, OOC-ness, and general bitchiness
Feedback: Much appreciated! C&C is great. NO FLAMES!
Notes: Okay, I got in February (2001), and I wrote some of it then, but then
I forgot about it. I came across what I'd written and decided to pick up
where I left off. Unfortunately, I forgot what's supposed to happen in the
story, so I'm making it up as I go along. Here's the gist: I've always
wanted to write a fic where Heero and Duo _really_ didn't get along. This is
'words' - thoughts, //words// - flashback, [words] - dream sequence
A Hate-Hate Relationship
The safe house was about fifty miles from the base, but the distance was
traversed quickly in Duo's airplane. After the short flight, he set the
craft down in the clearing nearby, and the pilots moved their meager
belongings into the little house.
The cabin was simple and sparsely furnished, but it was equipped with almost
everything the two boys would need. There was a living room with a
fireplace, a small kitchen with stocked shelves, and two bedrooms with an
Duo moved Heero into one of the bedrooms and then brought in the first aid
kit. Setting it down on the end of the bed, he turned to leave.
"Where do you think you're going?" Heero called from behind him.
He turned, a look of false surprise on his features. "Well, you did say, and
I quote, 'I'd like to fix myself up.' There's the first aid kit. Fix
yourself." With that, Duo turned and left.
Heero glared at the empty doorway for a moment before opening the first aid
kit. His wounds had stopped bleeding profusely, but they needed to be
cleaned prior to stitching. Heero looked down at his battered body. His
tank top was torn in a few places where bullets had grazed his sides. Both
arms were covered in blood from the injuries they'd received. The back of
his left leg was also oozing blood. In short, he was a mess.
He succeeded in getting his shoes and socks off (one-handed, since his left
arm hurt too badly to move), but his success ended there. He could not clean
the graze wounds on his sides because he could not lift his arms up high
enough to remove his shirt. He could not see the injury to his left shoulder
well enough to do anything with it, and he could not use his left hand to
clean the gash in his right arm. The bullets were still lodged in the back
of his leg, and he could not get in a position to remove them without causing
himself extreme pain. He had only one option.
* * * * * * * * * *
The braided pilot smirked from his seat on the couch. 'I wondered how long
it would take...' Taking his time, Duo walked to Heero's bedroom. Once he
got there, he leaned against the doorframe and shot a questioning glance at
the boy on the bed. "...Yes? What do you want?"
Heero sighed. 'Of course he's going to be difficult.' "I... need
your... help," he ground out.
Duo gave him a look of feigned confusion. "My help? Why do you need my
help, Heero? I thought you'd be able to handle it."
Heero's glare somehow increased in intensity. "I can't do it by myself. I.
Need. Your. Help. There, I said it. Are you happy now?" He hoped the
situation wouldn't get any more humiliating. He hated feeling so weak in
front of anyone, especially Duo.
Duo looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he met Heero's eyes and said, "I'd
only be happier if you weren't here."
"Can we just dispense with the pleasantries already? I need your help." It
was difficult to keep the irritation out of his voice, but Heero knew that he
had to be careful since he was completely at Duo's mercy. It was not a
comfortable position to be in, considering their relationship.
"Okay, okay... Let's get you to the bathroom and clean you up. You look like
Heero took the insult silently. He scooted over to the edge of the bed and
raised himself into a standing position, balancing precariously on his right
leg. Duo then put an arm around his waist and helped him limp to the
bathroom. He sat Heero down on the toilet and went back into the bedroom.
Heero could hear him rummaging through the first aid kit, but he didn't know
what Duo was trying to find. A minute later, the longhaired pilot was back,
this time with a pair of scissors.
Seeing the perplexed look on Heero's face, Duo thought fleetingly, 'He's
kinda cute that way...' but he quickly banished the thought from his mind
when he remembered how much he hated the other boy. Getting back to the
present situation, he informed Heero, "You're not gonna get that shirt off
over your head, so I'll have to cut it off. You can leave the spandex on for
the moment, but they'll have to go so I can remove those bullets from your
leg. I'll help you into the shower; it'll be easier to get you cleaned off
that way. You'll probably feel a little better afterwards, too. I'll wash
you off and then we'll go into your room and get your wounds stitched up."
Nodding his assent, Heero watched as Duo turned on the water and waited for
it to heat up. Once Duo seemed pleased with the water temperature, he turned
back to the other boy. Heero let Duo help him into the shower stall, but Duo
stayed outside. He braced himself against the wall while Duo cut up the
sides of his tank top and lifted it over his head. After rolling up his
sleeves, Duo helped Heero move forward until he was completely under the
spray. Heero flinched, but Duo's hand on his back prevented him from moving
away from the water.
"Just stand there for a minute. It's gonna sting like hell, but it's the
easiest way to clean you up (1). The water will get most of the blood that
hasn't dried off of you. I'll get the rest with a washcloth."
So Heero stood under the shower, and soon the sharp stinging eased to a dull
throb. He looked down and watched the blood-tainted water swirled down the
drain. It made him recalled a scene from an old black-and-white film he'd
watched some time before (2). After he was satisfied that most of the blood
was off, Duo began to scrub Heero with the washcloth. He was not
particularly gentle (not that Heero was expecting him to be), but he was
careful about washing near Heero's injuries. It wouldn't do any good to open
up the wounds even more. When he was finished getting the rest of the blood
off, Duo handed Heero a clean washcloth.
"I'm gonna help you get your shorts off. Just stay with your back to me,
okay? After that, you can clean yourself off, do whatever you need to do.
I'll be outside. The towels are on the rack right there, so put one around
your waist before I come back in. Are we clear?"
"Hai," replied Heero, quickly adding, "Yes" when he remembered that Duo knew
very little Japanese. He turned around and braced himself against the wall,
tensing slightly when he felt Duo's thumbs hook into the waistband of his
shorts and push them slowly down. It was not an easy task to remove the wet
spandex and not do further damage to the bullet wounds in Heero's thigh, but
Duo did the job admirably. After he'd pushed the shorts down far enough, Duo
let them fall to puddle around Heero's feet. He backed up a few paces and
Heero turned to look at him over his shoulder.
Duo held up his hands and desperately tried to fight the blush that was
reddening his cheeks. "Stop! Don't turn around. I'm gonna be right out
here if you need me. And remember the towel before I come back in, okay?
Okay." The door clicked shut as punctuation.
Heero stood motionless. 'Duo...blushing? Because of me?' Heero found it
strange that Duo would get so uncomfortable in that situation. It made no
sense. Duo was a boy, and he had the same ...equipment as Heero did, so his
nakedness should not be a problem. Even more puzzling to Heero was his own
body's reaction: he was half-hard, but he didn't know why. 'Is it because of
Duo? God help me if it is...' He knew he wasn't even slightly aroused when
the other boy was washing him, so it must have happened when Duo was taking
his pants off. 'It's just my mind playing tricks on me. It could've been
anybody doing that, and I'd have the same reaction...Please let that be it.'
He pushed his thoughts aside and washed himself off, willing his arousal to
* * * * * * * * *
On the other side of the door, Duo was pacing frantically.
'That did not just turn me on! No way. It's Heero. It's fucking Heero!
No, don't think about fucking Heero. Dammit!' The pacing sped up.
'This is not how it's supposed to be. I hate him, he hates me, that's how it
is. Nothing else. Being attracted to each other is not in the equation.
Definitely not. No. N-O. Just remember what an asshole, what a complete
jerk he is. There, not turned on anymore by that bastard. All gone. It is
completely out of my system...'
"Duo, I'm done, and I've got on the towel. Can you come help me out of the
Unbidden, the image of a wet and glistening Heero standing in nothing but a
short towel invaded Duo's brain (3). 'Noooooo! I was fine until just now.
Okay, man, prepare yourself to see Heero looking...good...enough to eat...Oh,
I am in soooo much trouble.' Duo cleared his throat. "Alright, I'm coming
in." 'God help me, please...'
As soon as he opened the door, he had to fight the blush once again. The
same picture that was in his head was now right before his eyes, except this
Heero had bullet holes in him. Duo coughed and grabbed another towel to hold
in front of him. He needed it to help dry off Heero, but it served to
conceal his rapidly rising member as well. "Well, we should probably dry you
off now, huh?"
Heero raised an eyebrow. "How about get me out of the shower first?"
Duo managed to keep the look of panic off his face, but inside he was
freaking out. 'Shit! He'll know if I get that close to him. But if I don't
go near him, he'll think something's up.' He nodded his head, more along
with his inner monologue that agreeing with Heero. "Oh, yeah, let's do that
first. Then we can get you off, I mean, dried off." 'Shitshitshitshit...'
Somehow Heero missed Duo's slip, possibly because he was making a valiant
effort to keep his body under control. 'This cannot be happening to me. Not
me. No...' His feelings of arousal almost overpowered him when Duo's strong
arm slipped around his waist and helped him out of the shower stall. 'Try to
remember what a loud, obnoxious, ignorant baka he is.'
Once he had Heero out of the shower, Duo began the arduous task of drying him
off. He was so caught up in keeping his lower body away from the other boy
that he accidentally grazed Heero's wounds with the towel.
"Watch what you're doing, stupid!" Heero yelped. "I'm injured, or have you
Duo stopped and glared at the half-naked pilot. "Don't call me stupid. I'm
not the one who got shot. So shut up and let me finish." He resumed
scrubbing Heero, this time a little rougher than necessary.
'He is such an asshole,' both boys thought in unison.
Fortunately for them both, Heero dried off quickly. But the situation was
about to get even more difficult.
"Okay, Heero, now for the fun part. I get to stitch you up."
(1) I really don't know if this is a good way to clean wounds or not. It
probably isn't. I bet a real person would bleed to death. But this is
Heero, and this is my story, so it works. However, I do know that it would
sting. Any girl (or boy, I guess), who's cut herself (or himself), shaving
in the shower knows this to be true. It hurts like a bitch.
(2) Psycho, anyone?
(3) What's he complaining about?! I'd love for that picture to pop into my
head at random times during the day. Except for when I'm driving. I might
run off the road.