convicted
by alexia
5:12 PM 12/14/2003
warnings: AU, yaoi, 1x2x1, eventual lemon/lime/citrus thing.
disclaimer: I don't own gundam wing, although like many others i wish i do.
notes: Okay. This is the *third* time I've redone this chapter, simply because I don't like how it started. Please don't be mad? Well, I hope you enjoy it.
--------------------
When Heero Yuy was woken up at six in the morning on a Saturday, he was not pleased. He was even less pleased when the cheerful voice on the other end of the phone line informed him that he had to be at the train station in fifteen minutes to pick up his charge.
When Heero asked what she was talking about, the too-cheerful-for-this-time-of-day voice informed him that he had signed up for a program in which former law-breakers, turned "good", took in young-but-just-out-of-jail kids in order to show them the error in their ways and get them "back on track".
With a groan, Heero slammed the phone back into it's cradle, and flopped over in his bed. If he only had fifteen minutes to get there, he should really get moving. Of course, this was Heero's day off. This was the day that he should have been allowed to sleep until one in the afternoon, and then laze around the apartment in boxershorts watching wrestling and drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade. Right now, Heero Yuy was supposed to still be asleep. He was not supposed to be getting out of bed to throw on some clothing so he could go pick up a juvenile delinquent from the train station.
But, of course, that's precisely what he was doing.
----------
By the time he got to his Jeep, he had gotten dressed, brushed his teeth, and had called the train station and learned, happily, that his charge's train was twenty minutes late. That gave him precisely enough time to stop at Starbucks for an iced mocha and a piece of lemon pound cake and still be there when the train pulls up.
Unfortunately, fate seemed bent on heero not having his way that Saturday morning. "Hello-my-name-is-Relena-Welcome-to-Starbucks" definitely wasn't helping matters.
"Um, I'm really sorry, sir... this Register doesn't seem to be working." Smacking her strawberry bubble gum, the blond punched a couple keys on the screen in front of her. She didn't even flinch under Heero's death glare. "Lemme get my manager to see what's wrong..."
Ten minutes, a free coffee and frappuccino later, Heero was stuck behind a bright red SUV in an enormous traffic jam. You would think that at seven in the morning on a Saturday, traffic wouldn't be all that bad. Of course it is. He glared and beeped his horn angrily.
He glared more.
And beeped more.
----------
He was late. Not just a-couple-minutes-oh-I'm-so-sorry late, but a full half hour late. It'd be a miracle if his charge was still in the same country.
Heero looked around, somewhat panicked. What if his charge had escaped as soon as he could? Heero knew that he'd do the same if it were him. Cold blue eyes swept the train station, picking up small details that an un-rushed person would probably miss. No, he was not looking for the young mother trying to settle her three kids down. Nor was he here for the group of punk kids sitting on the bench, probably waiting for another of their friends to join them for a concert.
Finally, his eyes picked fell upon someone who could only be his unwanted-responsibility. A tall, skinny frame lay sprawled across an entire bench seat. A long ratty braid flopped onto the dusty floor as the man turned on his side, apparently asleep.
When Heero walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder, though, the boy suddenly sat upright. Dull blue eyes glittered with surprise. Heero cleared his throat. "Heero. Heero Yuy."
"Oh. Right. Duo Maxwell." Shaking his head and picking up his worn bag, Duo stood up and waited for Heero to lead the way.
----------
When they got the nifty little restaurant for breakfast, Duo had opened up a bit more, but not much. He was quiet, decent enough (although not really polite), and kept his attention on the book he had been reading. Tilting his head to catch the title of the book, Heero read "Oscar Wilde". Duo's hand was covering most of the binding, but the author's name was still visible.
Heero didn't know who that was, other than the fact that he was a writer in the 1800's and got into trouble for having homosexual innuendos in his writs. Heero had been about to ask Duo what the book was when the waitress came with his scrambled eggs. Duo had ordered practically everything on the menu, but Heero didn't blame him. That crap they fed you in.. well, really *any* institution was just terrible.
The two men ate their food in silence until Heero suddenly realized that he knew next to nothing about Duo. "How old are you?"
The braided-man looked up, startled by Heero's voice. "Oh. Nineteen." He said, after a moment's hesitation.
In the matter of five minutes, Heero learned that Duo was 19 years old, his birthday was in July, his parents were divorced and he had been convicted for hacking and drug possession (which he insisted that he hadn't done.) Duo's answers were all short and concise, the way Heero liked it. Duo, in turn, had only asked if they could pick some stuff up from his father's house. Heero agreed, albeit grudgingly. Sigh. All Heero had wanted to do when he woke up that morning, was to be lazy all day and not have to worry about anything.
..........
A shiny black jeep pulled up in front of a run-down apartment building. Duo sat in the car for a moment, looking nervous. "I'll be back out in a sec, OK?"
With a nod from heero, he closed the car door and slouched over to the door. A few moments later, muffled shouts and fighting could be heard from inside the derelict structure. Duo flew out of the doorway, with a couple of bags thrown over his shoulder, clutching a box and a... cat carrier?
Heero cursed to himself. He did not do well with animals. With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate. 'Oh well," He thought, "It can't be that bad."
Oh, Who was he kidding?
..........
"I, uh, I'm sorry about back there. MY dad... um.. He's kind of.." Duo started, looking out the window.
"It's fine. I mean, I understand." Heero turned his head for a moment, to look at his charge, then focused his attention back on the road. They were almost to his apartment, It was twenty minutes after they had left.
"No, I mean... I wouldn't have brought Mr.. Fitzgibbons except my step-mom hates him. We don't have to keep him, though. I mean, unless you want to. Which I can tell you don't." Duo muttered softly.
"If you'd like to keep him it's fine. I'm just not going to look after him." Heero figured that he could be generous for once. It wouldn't kill him. Right?
..........
"Uh.. Do you mind if I catch a shower?" Duo asked quietly, dropping his bags carelessly onto the hardwood floor. Heero shook his head no, and went to find Duo some towels.
After Heero had gotten out of jail, he had become a criminal attorney, hired by the state. He didn't get paid all that much, but it was enough to get him a pretty nice apartment with equally nice furnishings. He had hardwood floors all throughout the six-room apartment. The walls were painted white, as he had never gotten around to really decorating. The couches and chairs in the main room were black, with end tables that matched his dining room table. Steel and glass.
His bathroom even had a black toilet, black countertops, and a large black whirlpool tub.
A high-tech computer sat in his office on a large mahogany desk next to floor to ceiling windows. Heero was going to have to move that out to the main room for Duo, and probably password the computer.
Heero's own room was very different from the rest of the apartment. Floor to ceiling length windows let sun shine on the white comforter of his steel-framed bed. Pictures lined the walls, mostly modern art, and white plush carpet covered the floor. Gold and silver candles were lined up on the headboard of the bed, next to a phone and a lamp. There was an empty picture frame on the floor, thrown there in a tantrum. The picture had been burned a few weeks ago in a rage of fury and hurt.
Back to the present.
"I have to start clearing out my office so you'll have a room. Later we can go out shopping to get another bed and a couple tables or something. I also need to go grocery shopping... There's not much here in the way of food, I'm afraid." Heero says, glancing at Duo, who was about to close the bathroom door.
"Great. See you in a bit."
....................
all done. Is it as good as the original?
by alexia
5:12 PM 12/14/2003
warnings: AU, yaoi, 1x2x1, eventual lemon/lime/citrus thing.
disclaimer: I don't own gundam wing, although like many others i wish i do.
notes: Okay. This is the *third* time I've redone this chapter, simply because I don't like how it started. Please don't be mad? Well, I hope you enjoy it.
--------------------
When Heero Yuy was woken up at six in the morning on a Saturday, he was not pleased. He was even less pleased when the cheerful voice on the other end of the phone line informed him that he had to be at the train station in fifteen minutes to pick up his charge.
When Heero asked what she was talking about, the too-cheerful-for-this-time-of-day voice informed him that he had signed up for a program in which former law-breakers, turned "good", took in young-but-just-out-of-jail kids in order to show them the error in their ways and get them "back on track".
With a groan, Heero slammed the phone back into it's cradle, and flopped over in his bed. If he only had fifteen minutes to get there, he should really get moving. Of course, this was Heero's day off. This was the day that he should have been allowed to sleep until one in the afternoon, and then laze around the apartment in boxershorts watching wrestling and drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade. Right now, Heero Yuy was supposed to still be asleep. He was not supposed to be getting out of bed to throw on some clothing so he could go pick up a juvenile delinquent from the train station.
But, of course, that's precisely what he was doing.
----------
By the time he got to his Jeep, he had gotten dressed, brushed his teeth, and had called the train station and learned, happily, that his charge's train was twenty minutes late. That gave him precisely enough time to stop at Starbucks for an iced mocha and a piece of lemon pound cake and still be there when the train pulls up.
Unfortunately, fate seemed bent on heero not having his way that Saturday morning. "Hello-my-name-is-Relena-Welcome-to-Starbucks" definitely wasn't helping matters.
"Um, I'm really sorry, sir... this Register doesn't seem to be working." Smacking her strawberry bubble gum, the blond punched a couple keys on the screen in front of her. She didn't even flinch under Heero's death glare. "Lemme get my manager to see what's wrong..."
Ten minutes, a free coffee and frappuccino later, Heero was stuck behind a bright red SUV in an enormous traffic jam. You would think that at seven in the morning on a Saturday, traffic wouldn't be all that bad. Of course it is. He glared and beeped his horn angrily.
He glared more.
And beeped more.
----------
He was late. Not just a-couple-minutes-oh-I'm-so-sorry late, but a full half hour late. It'd be a miracle if his charge was still in the same country.
Heero looked around, somewhat panicked. What if his charge had escaped as soon as he could? Heero knew that he'd do the same if it were him. Cold blue eyes swept the train station, picking up small details that an un-rushed person would probably miss. No, he was not looking for the young mother trying to settle her three kids down. Nor was he here for the group of punk kids sitting on the bench, probably waiting for another of their friends to join them for a concert.
Finally, his eyes picked fell upon someone who could only be his unwanted-responsibility. A tall, skinny frame lay sprawled across an entire bench seat. A long ratty braid flopped onto the dusty floor as the man turned on his side, apparently asleep.
When Heero walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder, though, the boy suddenly sat upright. Dull blue eyes glittered with surprise. Heero cleared his throat. "Heero. Heero Yuy."
"Oh. Right. Duo Maxwell." Shaking his head and picking up his worn bag, Duo stood up and waited for Heero to lead the way.
----------
When they got the nifty little restaurant for breakfast, Duo had opened up a bit more, but not much. He was quiet, decent enough (although not really polite), and kept his attention on the book he had been reading. Tilting his head to catch the title of the book, Heero read "Oscar Wilde". Duo's hand was covering most of the binding, but the author's name was still visible.
Heero didn't know who that was, other than the fact that he was a writer in the 1800's and got into trouble for having homosexual innuendos in his writs. Heero had been about to ask Duo what the book was when the waitress came with his scrambled eggs. Duo had ordered practically everything on the menu, but Heero didn't blame him. That crap they fed you in.. well, really *any* institution was just terrible.
The two men ate their food in silence until Heero suddenly realized that he knew next to nothing about Duo. "How old are you?"
The braided-man looked up, startled by Heero's voice. "Oh. Nineteen." He said, after a moment's hesitation.
In the matter of five minutes, Heero learned that Duo was 19 years old, his birthday was in July, his parents were divorced and he had been convicted for hacking and drug possession (which he insisted that he hadn't done.) Duo's answers were all short and concise, the way Heero liked it. Duo, in turn, had only asked if they could pick some stuff up from his father's house. Heero agreed, albeit grudgingly. Sigh. All Heero had wanted to do when he woke up that morning, was to be lazy all day and not have to worry about anything.
..........
A shiny black jeep pulled up in front of a run-down apartment building. Duo sat in the car for a moment, looking nervous. "I'll be back out in a sec, OK?"
With a nod from heero, he closed the car door and slouched over to the door. A few moments later, muffled shouts and fighting could be heard from inside the derelict structure. Duo flew out of the doorway, with a couple of bags thrown over his shoulder, clutching a box and a... cat carrier?
Heero cursed to himself. He did not do well with animals. With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate. 'Oh well," He thought, "It can't be that bad."
Oh, Who was he kidding?
..........
"I, uh, I'm sorry about back there. MY dad... um.. He's kind of.." Duo started, looking out the window.
"It's fine. I mean, I understand." Heero turned his head for a moment, to look at his charge, then focused his attention back on the road. They were almost to his apartment, It was twenty minutes after they had left.
"No, I mean... I wouldn't have brought Mr.. Fitzgibbons except my step-mom hates him. We don't have to keep him, though. I mean, unless you want to. Which I can tell you don't." Duo muttered softly.
"If you'd like to keep him it's fine. I'm just not going to look after him." Heero figured that he could be generous for once. It wouldn't kill him. Right?
..........
"Uh.. Do you mind if I catch a shower?" Duo asked quietly, dropping his bags carelessly onto the hardwood floor. Heero shook his head no, and went to find Duo some towels.
After Heero had gotten out of jail, he had become a criminal attorney, hired by the state. He didn't get paid all that much, but it was enough to get him a pretty nice apartment with equally nice furnishings. He had hardwood floors all throughout the six-room apartment. The walls were painted white, as he had never gotten around to really decorating. The couches and chairs in the main room were black, with end tables that matched his dining room table. Steel and glass.
His bathroom even had a black toilet, black countertops, and a large black whirlpool tub.
A high-tech computer sat in his office on a large mahogany desk next to floor to ceiling windows. Heero was going to have to move that out to the main room for Duo, and probably password the computer.
Heero's own room was very different from the rest of the apartment. Floor to ceiling length windows let sun shine on the white comforter of his steel-framed bed. Pictures lined the walls, mostly modern art, and white plush carpet covered the floor. Gold and silver candles were lined up on the headboard of the bed, next to a phone and a lamp. There was an empty picture frame on the floor, thrown there in a tantrum. The picture had been burned a few weeks ago in a rage of fury and hurt.
Back to the present.
"I have to start clearing out my office so you'll have a room. Later we can go out shopping to get another bed and a couple tables or something. I also need to go grocery shopping... There's not much here in the way of food, I'm afraid." Heero says, glancing at Duo, who was about to close the bathroom door.
"Great. See you in a bit."
....................
all done. Is it as good as the original?