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Part 5 Duo chewed thoughtfully on his cereal and regarded Heero across the table. The subject of his gaze studiously ignored him, periodically opening his mouth as though to say something angrily, then closing it again suddenly. Wufei sat beside Duo, studying a printout while eating industriously. Trowa and Quatre were behind them, cooking something on the stove. *I wonder what happened that day.* Duo thought idly. All he could conclude was that Wufei had tortured Heero - judging by the thumps and screams he'd heard through the wall - but he'd never have imagined that mere torture could produce the change he'd seen in Heero since that day. He never even spoke to Duo, except when they needed to talk about missions, and the contempt the pilot had felt for him was gone. *Well, not gone, just under the surface and he's working hard not to let it out.* In the weeks since then, Duo had gradually come to realize that, not only was Heero not contesting his relationship with Wufei, but that he was perfectly safe from him. He could feel the change in himself. He'd gone back to his usual self, as the bruises on his body and soul had healed, and he relished the feeling of security that he'd thought he'd lost. Heero abruptly got up from the table, washed out his dishes and left the room. Duo's eyes followed his progress and answered the questioning look Wufei shot at him with a smile. He leaned closer to the Chinese boy and whispered into his ear while simultaneously reaching over to squeeze his thigh. "Just thinking about how great life is without that bastard ruling it, koi." Wufei turned his head and brushed a kiss over Duo's lips. "Just think, if it weren't for the war and running from OZ all the time, life would be perfect," he replied lightly. Duo smacked him on the thigh, then rubbed gently at the place. "Jeez, Wu, way to ruin the mood." "What are you two whispering about over there," Quatre asked gaily as he carried a steaming plate of eggs to the table. The cheerful blonde had, if anything, brightened since hearing the edited version of what had transpired during his and Trowa's absence. Of course, they hadn't told him about Treize, or Wufei's strange programming, but at least he was happy. "Dirty secrets we couldn't possibly tell you, Q-man. You'd blush to your roots," Duo said brightly. Quatre and Wufei both fought over the deepest blush and fair-haired Quatre won. "Duo!" Wufei admonished him. "See?" Duo said with a self-satisfied air. He leaned back in his chair, grinning. At that moment, a black cloud shattered the mood as Heero returned. "Wufei," he said. "There's a priority transmission from L5 for you." Wufei jumped to his feet. "Who is it?" Heero shrugged. "It's coded. I didn't think you'd want me to break it." Wufei laid his hand on Duo's shoulder for a moment, an expression of his ever-present promise to return, then strode from the room.
Wufei entered the small room they'd converted into a high-tech communications facility. Wires snaked all over the floor, and the only thing holding off the heat from the equipment were a few tired fans spinning in the corners. Already sweating in the close, windowless room, Wufei sat down in the chair and flipped the switch to receive the transmission. Nonsense characters swam across the monitor and Wufei stared at them, transfixed. After a few seconds, they resolved into the image of a slender, red-haired man Wufei couldn't recall ever having seen before. "Wufei," the man said. "Are you alone?" "Yes," Wufei said. There was something... something in the voice, or in the way his blue eyes stared at him. His breath sped up and blackness closed in on him as he heard the man speak again. "Activate program Barton Alpha Double Oh Niner." Wufei lost the battle and surrendered to darkness.
Wufei stood under the shower's spray, water cascading onto his head, running through his hair and down his body in streams and rivulets. Steam filled the room, cloaking everything in an otherworldly fog. The Chinese boy's hands ran through his own hair and down his body, over his nipples, down his stomach, to his thighs, and then back up again. The water that flowed into the drain had a slight pinkish cast. Duo stood outside the bathroom door, a hand pressed to the wood, and listened. For a month, it had been the same. Every few days, Wufei would receive a mission via a coded signal. That, in itself, was hardly unusual. He would come out of the room, his eyes remote and troubled, but they would light up when he saw Duo, and he would smile. "I have to go out tonight, beloved," he would say, or words to that effect. "I'll be back late, so don't worry." When he got home, he would head straight for the shower, seeing no one until he was done. Once he even snuck in through a window to avoid Duo, who had been watching television in the front room at the time. The sounds of the water stopped abruptly and Duo stepped away from the door, clasping his hands in front of him and trying to keep an impassive look on his face to cover the worry. These missions he was being sent on wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't for two things. The first, was Duo's terror that this was somehow linked to the horrible conditioning and genetic manipulation, and the second- Wufei emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still dripping wet and unbound. He glanced up and showed surprise when he saw Duo standing in the hallway. "Konban wa, Wufei," Duo said brightly, then glanced at his watch. "Actually, I guess it's ohayo, now. How did the mission go?" Wufei nodded, once, the slightest of smiles ghosting across his lips. His ebony eyes showed not a flicker. "It went well. I'm tired. Let's go to bed, koi." He turned away without another word and began walking towards their room. Duo trailed after him, his heart beating so hard he was sure the other boy could hear. The second was the fact that Wufei had been becoming more and more distant with each passing day. A part of Duo he really wished he could suppress was terrified that Wufei was going to lose himself completely one day soon, and either forget about Duo, or - even worse - turn into another Heero. They passed Heero's room and Duo automatically glanced that way as his thoughts turned towards the Japanese pilot. His eyes widened as he saw the door open a crack and a cobalt eye staring out into the hallway. As Duo caught sight of Heero watching them, the pilot stepped away from the door and closed it again quickly, but not before Duo saw a smirk of victory on Heero's face. "Wufei," Duo said desperately. "I love you." Wufei glanced briefly over his shoulder. "I love you, too," he said softly, and without inflection.
Heero watched the two other pilots approach and pass his room; the dominant Wufei first, his body still moist from the shower and muscles playing under his smooth skin. His face expressionless and blank, his ebony eyes dead, windows to a soul that was buried, or absent. Behind, his violet eyes filled with dread, Duo followed, obviously unaware of the monster he had tied his hopes to, but beginning to get an inkling. He saw Duo's head turn towards him and his eyes widen as he saw Heero watching. Heero stepped away from the door and closed it, not wanting to tempt the boy to tattle on him and invite Wufei's wrath. He couldn't have that. No, never that. He took a few steps further back, pulling into the middle of the room. His hand ran absently down his body and hesitated above the curve of his thigh, as if afraid to go further. Within him, a flame of jealousy burst into life and his face twisted with hate. Duo. Why Duo? Why did that weak fool, that submissive whore get to sleep with that god who'd visited him each and every night, while Heero lay in a cold, empty bed and burned with unassuaged desire. Wufei had *promised* him that he would come again, in exchange for leaving Duo alone, but instead he seemed to have forgotten completely. He'd waited for two months, with no reward for his patience. Heero collapsed onto his bed and curled up into a ball. Every time he saw the Chinese pilot, his body tightened with need. Every time he remembered what Wufei had done to him, his desire grew, until he was literally shaking, consumed just by the memory of pleasure. He was no better than Duo. The Japanese pilot clutched at his pillow, his whole body trembling, tears leaking from his face, and wallowed in a world of shame, hatred and humiliation. Suddenly, the trembling stilled and his head raised, a new emotion flickering across his face. His eyes grew bright, the brightness of growing madness. If Wufei had broken his promise, then Heero's promise to him no longer mattered. If Duo was removed, then Wufei would have no one to go to but Heero. He could have Wufei, remove the whore who tempted him, and one day learn to dominate the Chinese pilot. One day, surely, he could win, and then Wufei would learn to beg him for what he desired. No one would know of his weakness, especially Dr. J. A smile split his face. Yes, the next time Wufei was gone, Duo would find out what it *really* meant to be a slut. Duo would find out what it meant to cheat on Heero Yuy. And then Wufei would be his. And his alone.
Wufei stepped into Duo's room, feeling disquieted, but not knowing the source. Duo looked up from brushing his hair and his eyes widened slightly, a look of sadness passing over his face. "What's up, Wufei?" he said lightly, but it sounded forced. Wufei wondered just what it was about the look on his face that had upset the other pilot. "I have to go out tonight, koi," he said simply. "I have another mission." "But, you had one last night, Wufei!" The protest burst from Duo's lips and his hand raised to touch his mouth, as though to stop the words. He dropped his hand almost immediately and his eyes fell with it. "Good luck, Wu. I'll be here." Wufei crossed the room and buried a hand in Duo's hair, caressing his scalp through the masses of chestnut silk. Duo sighed and leaned into him, a look of bliss crossing his face. "I'll be back late, Duo, so don't worry." "I always worry about you, Wu. I love you." "I love you, too," Wufei replied, then released Duo and strode from the room. He didn't look back to see the look of sorrow and fear in his lover's eyes. Even as he moved away from Duo and out into the hallway, he felt a cold numbness steal over his body, overwhelming his love for Duo, his horror at what he'd been ordered to do. Wufei clawed at the darkness, trying to push it away, to go back into the room and beg for help, for release, even for death, so long as he didn't have to do this again. He mounted his motorcycle and sped away into the darkness, the internal struggle quieting as Wufei's strength failed him and Barton Alpha Double Oh Niner gained control. The man was known for frequenting this particular club, looking for prostitutes. Wufei was male, and he wasn't known for using males for sex, but that didn't really matter. Wufei would just have to convince him that *this* male was worth it. After all, it would be. He lounged against the bar, a drink that looked like and had the consistency of motor oil, but tasted of liquorice, in his hand, and scanned the crowd. He spotted his quarry the instant he entered the room and watched him as he drifted through the throng. He reached the bar about a metre away from Wufei and ordered a beer, oblivious to the Chinese boy's close scrutiny. He was a high-up in the Romafeller echelons, in a manner of speaking. He was an executive secretary, hacker, and former Federation flunky. He had worked with the original designs for TallGeese, and when the coup came he switched sides and sang like a bird. He had dropped names, locations, and gotten a number of The Master's friends killed or arrested. He was tall and thin, almost scrawny, like someone who had worked all his life behind a desk and made no effort to keep himself in shape. Someone who was thin mostly because of the blessing of a high metabolism, and because he often skipped meals to work, or jerk off to porn on the net. He even had small glasses perched on his beaklike nose, wire frames that were too loose for him and which he had to constantly push back up. The motion was like a nervous twitch, in fact, the man was alive with twitches, his every motion completed jerkily as though his muscles didn't quite work right. Wufei smiled. The man was handed the tall glass, already beading with sweat in the close, dark room, and he turned around, beginning to survey the room for himself. Wufei knew what he was looking for: a girl, probably small, slender, submissive. Wufei wasn't any of those things, but he straightened up from the bar and moved towards the man. As the changes washed through him, he began attracting looks from every person he passed, all admiring. Lust rose in eyes as he passed close, then drained away, leaving people shaking their heads, wondering what was wrong with them, that such an unassuming boy could affect them so. After an endless moment, Wufei was standing in front of the man. The crowd drew back, leaving them alone in a circle of bodies that were trying to ignore what was happening. Wufei glanced around at those few who were still staring and sent a puff of scent their way. Each of them, in turn, shook their heads as though to clear them, and turned away, already forgetting the Chinese boy and the nerd. The man looked up suddenly, his face surprised, as though just registering Wufei's presence. "Who are you?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing with irritation. "Mr. Taylor," Wufei said softly, knowing his voice would still carry to the man. "My name is not important to you, is it? I have come, seeking you." "What?" "I have heard what you do. The prostitutes tell stories of the nights they have with you. I have heard them." He leaned forward, lowering his voice still further, but bringing his lips to the man's ear. "I want it. I want to be yours. Tonight," he whispered. He drew back, smiling inwardly at the indignant, but fascinated, expression on Taylor's face. "I don't do men, sorry," he said, his voice a little strangled, and made an abortive attempt to move past Wufei. "Don't you?" Wufei countered, standing his ground. He raised his shirt over his head and let it flutter to the floor. Taylor's eyes widened, naked lust shining in them. Wufei smiled and slipped his pants off of his hips, allowing the clothing to puddle on the floor. The man gave a strangled gasp and flicked his eyes back and forth, as though afraid they were making a scene, but it was as if they were alone. No one seemed to notice, no one even glanced in their direction. The man took a step towards Wufei and grabbed his arm hard enough to wrench it. "Come with me!" he said, his breath coming fast and shallow. Wufei said nothing and allowed himself to be dragged out of the club buck naked. He knelt on the bed, his hands cuffed to the bedpost, and gasped and moaned, crying out as Taylor pounded into him over and over. The slices in his back, buttocks and legs were already healing, not that you could tell just from looking. There was too much blood. Finally, the man orgasmed, tears running from his face from pure pleasure, and he never even noticed when Wufei broke the cuffs like paper and tore his throat out with his bare hands. "Ninmu kanryou," the Chinese pilot whispered into the suddenly silent room.
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