6-26-2001

TITLE: The Worst Assignment
BY: Dev-Aki Basaa

PAIRING: 2x2, 1x2
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: yaoi, PWP, lemon
FEEDBACK: oh yes, please! dev_aki_jediknight@yahoo.com
ARCHIVE: Good question. If you’re interested, please contact me.
WARNING: voyeurism, het sex (but only by OCs)
DISCLAIMER: Bandai and Sunrise own all. It sucks, I know.
SUMMARY: On a stake-out, various levels of tension are relieved between Heero and Duo.
NOTES: Thanks, thanks, thanks go to Sakti, Tiffany and Van, my wonderful betas! This is not the sequel to "Should Have Been You" that I promised, this idea kinda got in the way and had to be mollified before I could return to writing the sequel. Damned muses.

~*~*~*~*~

It was hot - sweaty, sticky, droplets of moisture rolling down his back, languid, stomach turning hot. Water evaporated from his lips the moment he took the glass away; and no matter how much deodorant was caked on, he was still stewing in his own juices, cooking his skin and sending every sweat gland into overdrive. He stunk; he knew it. It was uncomfortable; it was shit. It was the worst assignment Preventers had ever given him!

Duo dragged the back of his hand across his brow for the hundredth and twenty-third time, his bangs hanging heavy, damp with sweat. He tugged at his shorts, pulling them away from his skin, mumbling about probably getting a fucking rash at this rate. Settling back in his seat before the window, he reached over to flip the switch to the standby battery-pack, the light blinking it’s first warning of low power. How the surveillance equipment still worked perfectly in all this heat was beyond him. He’d have to give Tro credit for his modifications. Duo sighed and let his head hang over the back of the upright chair, his braid dangling, dusting the floor. He’d been listening to the empty office for the last two hours, the headset suctioned to his ears for all his sweating. They’d been in this reject efficiency, staking-out a possible money laundering ring for the past three days. Preventers already had all the dirt they needed to arrest the front man, but to kill the ring, to really nip it in the bud, they’d have to connect the front man to the kingpin. 'Frontman' was expected to make contact with the head guy this week or next – as the deal was coming to a head. There were three solid suspects, each being heavily monitored by teams of agents. Duo’d been assigned to this joker. A stocky, balding, full of himself, sack of shit who was taking a FUCKING LONG lunch right now! Duo raised his head to glare at the empty office. Another team was trailing him, but he had to stay here, alert, in case anything happened, even in the dude’s absence.

Bad enough to be stuck with this louse - who was, by looks of things a shyster in his own right, but not their guy - he’d also been landed with Heero as a partner. Again. Why the hell they kept doing that to him, he didn’t know. He was starting to believe Une was one sadistic bitch. She couldn’t be so clueless as to not notice the constant tension between him and Heero these days? The two of them couldn’t communicate to save their lives and disagreed on everything - how to handle a case, how to position the equipment, where to lay the sleeping bags, which kind of take-out to order for dinner. They always ended up snapping and bitching at each other over stupid bullshit. Duo, for one, was sick of it and ready to request he NEVER be hooked up with Heero again. He’d always considered himself something of a masochist, but everyone has their breaking point. Heero had found that and gone beyond it. Far beyond it. And where was Yuy now? Taking a walk after their most recent blow-out. Duo’d taken a cheap shot about Relena, sneering that she’d finally seen him for what he really was. He didn’t know what all he meant to imply with a statement like that, but now he couldn’t help but feel guilty for how strongly Heero had taken the jab. He’d left almost immediately, not saying a word back and had been gone for almost three hours now. Duo wanted to smack himself. He didn’t actually know what had happened between Heero and Relena - no one did. Simply that nothing ever developed there when it had once seemed so likely. After the war, Heero went off, never having the decency to contact anyone and let them know what happened to him - not even Duo, who was supposed to be his best friend. So much for that. Duo scoffed, jerking his head. The headset slipped a little across his crown. Heero had disappeared for about a year and then, one day, just showed up at Preventers a few months after Duo had joined.

Initially, there had been something rather exciting about the five of them working like the team they never were during the war, but no amount of comradery could keep him and Heero from going for each other’s jugular. Heero sure as hell said his own share of hurtful things - attacking Duo’s competency, ability, skills, intelligence - the list went on. He’d even, in a MEETING no less, implied that Wufei should call him a woman, in that stupid derogatory way he always did. That’d been the last straw for Duo - he’d hauled off and hit Heero, square in the jaw. A sucker-punch, perhaps, but he hardly cared at that moment. The meeting went downhill from there. With Wufei and Sally physically restraining Heero at one end of the conference table and Trowa and Quatre corralling him, complete with a classic Winner-"can’t we all just get along"-lecture, at the other end, there wasn’t much 'mission-discussion' going on. And yet, even after that, Une STILL continued to assign them together. What was she thinking?

Duo jerked to attention; there had been a noise in the office - a door creaking. He double-checked the focus on the camera and up-ed the volume on the mic, hidden just outside the shyster’s window. He wasn’t alone, but Duo couldn’t see the other person yet. Fuck, where the hell was Heero? This could be something good. They were talking so low and quite, Duo strained to hear. Wait, no, it’s a woman’s voice. Not 'Frontman', but that didn’t mean it wasn’t connected. The man and woman came around to his desk, in view of the large picture window, giving Duo a clear look. Duo slid off the chair and dropped to his knees at the window’s edge, grabbing the binoculars resting against the wall. Now he could see her. A blonde, wide-set blue eyes, slim, busty, kept tossing her hair and, sadly, not one of the women from the numerous slides he’d studied for this assignment. Goddamn, she was probably nobody.

Duo set the binoculars down and climbed back up into the chair, swiping his hand across his forehead for the hundredth and twenty-fourth time. He needed a break. He pushed the headset off his head to hang around his neck and rubbed his hot ears. He let his head drop backwards, resting against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Damn, where was Heero? He didn’t mean to upset him this much - but nothing ever seemed to really affect him. Duo guessed he was taking more and more risks to get a rise out of him, pushing the envelope and treading sacred ground. Had Heero done that to him? He’d never mentioned Hilde and what didn’t happen there, now, did he? Fuck. Duo opened his eyes, staring at the water stained ceiling, his gaze tracing the cracks in the yellow-browned plaster. He had gone too far. Even with all their arguing, there was still something there - respect, maybe - that kept even their hurtful words civil. Twisted as that sounded. He’d over stepped his bounds; he’d hit on something deeper than just Heero’s relationship with Relena - or lack thereof. His words had cut Heero and so, he would apologize...as soon as that baka dragged his sorry ass back here!

Duo sighed and raised his head, peering out the window again. The sight that greeted him, though, sent his eyes wide as saucers. The woman was completely naked and Shyster-man was bent over her, sucking on her breasts, one hand caressing her side, the other hidden between their bodies. Fuck. Literally. Duo shook himself from staring, focusing his gaze on the floor. He shouldn’t be watching this, it was being taped and recorded if anything important occurred, he didn’t have to watch. Then he heard them, heard her, through the headphones around his neck. She was whimpering, moaning and panting, urging him on. Their sounds were just whispers, drifting up to his ears, over the din of the street below and mechanical whirr of the equipment, but the erotic tones had a strong effect. Duo closed his eyes, realizing his breath had quickened. This was turning him on. Shit. As if compelled, Duo slowly opened his eyes, seeing them again. The woman was now sitting on the desk, her legs spread wide, Shyster-man’s head buried in her groin. Her head was tossed back and he could hear her, crying, "yes, yes, yes."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He couldn’t take much more of this. How long had it been since he’d last gotten any? Not since he’d left Hilde the salvage business and fled their crappy relationship, returning to Earth. What had that been, a year ago? He watched as the woman slid off the desk, kissing Shyster-man, rubbing her crotch against his thigh. Oh, he was hard now. Duo flicked the button of his trousers open and un-zipped his pants, slipping his hand inside to rub himself, grabbing through the cloth of his boxers. By God! What was he doing? Heero had a word for this, right? Hentai? The words through the headset floated up to his ears, the pillow talk, the dirty demands. "Fuck me," she said, "take me hard." Duo moaned in tandem with Shyster-man, watching as she turned and shoved her ass back at him, spreading her legs. She rested her folded arms on his desk, pushing the papers and pens that cluttered his desk out of her way. Fuck, when she dropped her head to the desk and arched her back, it didn’t matter that she had breasts and a clit – Shyster-man blocked most her body from that position anyway – but taking her from behind like that reminded Duo of taking a man. His eyelids drooped, narrowed in lust, remembering that tight hot heat, that fight for dominance that was never quite the same with a woman.

Shyster-man undid his pants and rubbed himself, stepping into position behind her. Her body shook as he slid inside. That did it. Duo reached into the flap of his boxers and freed his erection, throbbing, demanding his attention. He rubbed his thumb over its head, collecting the moisture before curling his fingers around his shaft, letting his hand fall to his root, drawing it back up slowly and then letting it drop again, building a rhythm. He could hear her, high-pitched whimpers, a panting squealing sound she made. He heard the grunts of the man as he pushed into her, over and over again. His own voice joined theirs, moaning and breathing hard. He squeezed his grip and quickened his pace, staring, entranced as she shoved her hips back, meeting his thrusts. His hands roamed over her body, occasionally gripping her sides for leverage when he pounded her extra hard.

Duo was too far gone to even startle when he heard Heero’s dark voice whisper in his ear, "you want some help with that?" He couldn’t even feel shocked as Heero’s hand curled over his, taking over the rhythm, slowing it down and making him keen. Suddenly the view out the window was far less interesting. Heero was kneeling by the chair, one hand wrapped around his hand and cock, the other insinuating itself between his back and the chair, slipping under his shirt. His touch was so gentle, the way the flat of his palm was rubbing easy circles against his sweaty, sticky skin, the way his fingers carefully pushed Duo’s away from around his cock, taking over fully.

"Is this ok, Duo?"

Duo swallowed and nodded before he gasped out a yes, shutting his eyes tight, losing to the overwhelming pleasure. What was going on? Was Heero really doing this or was this some over-powering kick-back fantasy from the war? When he once dreamed of kissing Heero, wiping that impassive emptiness from his face; dreamed of blowing Heero and Heero blowing him? When was the last time he’d thought of that? A year ago, or two? Yesterday?

What? Duo shook his head at his inner voice.

No, not yesterday, right? He hated Heero these days. He hated his indifference and constant chilly demeanor. He hated at once being ignored by him and then ripped to shreds by his caustic words, yet emotionless voice. He hated Heero and did his best to make sure he knew that. He hated Heero, he thought again, as if trying to remind himself. He hated Heero for hating him.

"Shit!"

Duo’s eyes flew open as the sweet heat of Heero’s mouth engulfed him, causing his body to jerk in pleasure and shock. In the lower edge of his vision, he could see the dark-haired head bobbing at his groin, but he couldn’t look, couldn’t quite accept it. He let his head drop back, staring at the cracks in the plaster again, panting hard, moaning and hearing the occasional cry waft up from the headset. Maybe he’d tripped into some portal, crashing another dimension’s party where things that didn’t happen, did. He considered for a moment pinching himself, but why end such a nice dream? Soon the real Heero would come back and knock him upside the head for falling asleep on the job and everything would be normal. He could yell at Heero for being a cruel bastard and reality would be okay again.

Duo melted into the chair, feeling each rub of Heero’s tongue up and down the length of his shaft, the way he swirled it around his head. The hand at his back had now joined the other one gripping his upper thighs, fisting into the fabric of his slacks. No, he had to look, had to see for himself. Maybe he’d break the spell and bring the safety of reality back even sooner. Only, it didn’t work that way. Instead he stared, panting, biting his lip against groaning as he watched Heero’s head dip repeatedly, eyes closed, lost in the act himself.

Holy fuck, he was close now, his body tightening, on the brink of release. He heard the couple through the headset climax and cry out, pushing him closer to the edge. But it was Heero that brought him there, moaning around his cock, a deep and rumbling noise that Duo could feel against his skin. His body tensed and his vision sparkled with tiny dots of white light as he came, groaning, biting his tongue from calling out Heero’s name. He sank deeper into the chair, his body slumping, limp. He closed his eyes, grinning, feeling wonderful. His body hummed, still shivering from release. He hadn’t had it that good in a long time - too long. Several minutes passed before he had enough sense to realize Heero was still kneeling beside the chair, staring up at him. Duo opened his eyes and caught Heero’s gaze. He looked curious, eyes wide with a touch of fear, his features taut in anticipation. Duo’d never seen his face so open with emotion; it was as if an innocence he’d never had returned to him - even with such a salacious act. There was even a hint of a grin curling Heero’s lips and at that, Duo’s own grin faded. Frankly, he was a tad frightened. What was going on? Reality wasn’t falling back into place, he wasn’t sure he could hate the boy before him anymore, looking so beautiful and innocuous. He wasn’t sure of anything any longer.

"What," Duo gasped, "was that?"

And just as suddenly as it had appeared, that open expression on Heero’s face was gone, washed away with the same, dull, empty continence Duo hated so much.

"Nothing."

Heero stood, vainly adjusting his pants, tented with his own erection. Pivoting, he began to stride away, perhaps to escape out the door again. Duo flung his arm out, expending what little energy he’d regained. His fingers caught Heero’s wrist and wrapped around, pinching his skin. It was a weak grip, really; Heero could throw him off with ease, but he didn’t. He stopped, just out of Duo’s sight, his arm stiff as steel, his body probably completely taunt. Duo didn’t know what more to say, already off to a bad step. He was beyond confused and realized this had to have been there, maybe even dancing before his eyes and he’d missed it. Had he really been that blind? Was this why Une kept assigning them together; was this why Quatre would lecture him so when he’d fight with Heero, going on about being more honest with himself when it came to his best friend? Because they were best friends, weren’t they. Somehow that never did change, even with Heero’s disappearance, even with their bickering. Even with this. His fingers tightened around Heero’s wrist, tugging him closer.

"Don’t go."

Heero let himself be brought to Duo’s side, but halted before he came in contact with him. Duo shook his head at that and raised the back of Heero’s hand, pressing it softly, dryly, to his lips. He smelled of sex - smelled of him - a musky odor that was at the same time familiar and not. Perhaps it was mixed with the scent of Heero’s skin, sweaty in this sauna of a room, giving it a different tang. He liked the smell. As each moment passed, he liked the idea of the concoction more and more.

"I’m sorry," he murmured to Heero’s hand. A droplet of sweat from his temple fell and splattered against Heero’s wrist.

"For what?" Heero gave a half-hearted tug to reclaim his wrist, but Duo didn’t let go, knowing he wasn’t really restricting him. If he wanted free, he had ample power to do so.

Duo nuzzled the skin before him, sighing against his flesh. For being blind, for being an idiot."

"Well, you should stick with your strengths," he said with that provoking edge they seemed to reserve for each other. He wrenched his wrist from Duo’s grip and took a step away from him, resting his now freed hand against his abdomen, as if it were weak from injury.

Even as a voice inside him balked at the reaction, Duo could feel his blood pressure rise, his face turning hot. He moved to stand, adjusting himself and re-zipping his pants, his motions jerky and frantic as his anger increased. He had turned to snap back at Heero and play the game that was all too familiar and comfortable when he saw it. Not to say he’d never seen it before, he knew that look all too well. It was Heero’s token expression just before they began a fight, one of the few visages that showed any emotion. It was something Duo looked forward to seeing; he’d just never before seen it for what it really was. Quatre had; Une had. Fuck, they probably all had. It was so clear, the excitement, the anticipation, the desire in Heero’s eyes – it was all passion, all foreplay.

He had been ready to tell Heero what a cold bastard he could be, but for the first time ever, he marched up to him, grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him.

It was like coming home.

Their bodies melded together, hands falling in the right places, their heads tilted perfectly. Their mouths met, lips parting in sync; it was so easy and familiar as if they’d done it a hundred times before and, perhaps, in their well-guarded fantasies, they had.

"Duo? Heero?" the CB buzzed, irritating, like a drunk house fly. "Come in." It sounded like Quatre. They broke their kiss and just stared at the machine for a moment. It gave another impatient buzz and Duo growled, wrapping an arm around Heero’s waist and dragging him to the CB with him, he didn’t want to let him go. He would never be so stupid again. With one hand, he unhooked the receiver and brought the box-shaped speaker to his mouth.

"Duo here. What do you want!?" His annoyance at being interrupted only subsided when Heero slipped his arms around his waist, drawing their bodies close again. He’d been so hot before, but this warmth felt good, comforting and right.

"Ah, Duo?" the voice came through tentative, even sounded a tad puzzled. "It’s Quatre." The CB gave a sharp crackle. "All clear. Pack up and report to Headquarters. Wufei and Trowa are making the arrest as we speak."

"Roger, see you in a bit. Duo out."

He re-hooked the speaker and turned in Heero’s arms. He brought his free hand up, brushing his fingers across the lips that had tormented him in so many different ways - for what they had said and what he feared they’d never say, for what they did and didn’t do. Heero nuzzled into the touch, running his tongue over the pads of Duo’s fingertips before he spoke.

"So what happens now?"

Duo tightened his hold, bringing his other arm around his waist and squeezing. He laid his head on Heero’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Why hadn’t they done this a year ago?

"You heard the man. Let’s get our asses and equipment back to Grand Central Station," he answered in a quip. Heero turned his head and buried his face in Duo’s hair, he could feel him breathe it in.

"That’s not what I meant," he said after a moment of silence.

Duo sighed. "I know. I just... don’t know." He raised his head and met Heero’s gaze, his brow had furrowed, looking serious and Duo would have smiled and made a saucy comment about never before realizing how cute that expression looked, had he not already known how poorly that would go over right now. "I suck at relationships, just ask Hilde," he added, fighting the instinct to 'run and hide.' It would have been too easy to just press another kiss to Heero’s lips or turn away to start packing the equipment - or both. Maybe he wasn’t meant to be with Hilde, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t made his fair share of mistakes. He wouldn’t do that to Heero. The ground here was far more fragile.

Duo gave a little shrug, his tight grip on Heero’s waist relaxing a little. "You know, we’ll talk, figure some things out. Do the slow, one day at a time thing. And," Duo continued, giving a wink, "if you do anything to piss me off the way you do, instead of taking a swing, I’ll fuck you silly."

Heero’s lips curled, only a hint of a smile. "Hn. Okay."

Duo couldn’t help but laugh at that, loud and boisterous, causing a pigeon on the windowsill to take frantic flight. He shook his head, chuckling still and tilted his head, leaning forward for another kiss. Their mouths met again, in the same perfect familiarity, their hands roaming, caressing and teasing, knowing each other’s body on instinct. A haze of lust flooded Duo’s mind, wiping out any real thoughts he’d had, save one:

This was the best assignment Preventers had ever given him. He’d have to thank Une.

 

The End