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"The Princess With The Purple Heart"Written By: ExecutiveShrimp Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs
to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not
profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Smut, angst, AU Pairings: 1x2, Summary: Don't ask, don't tell
"The Princess With The Purple Heart" Thirteen They each sit on the edge of their own cot, facing each other. There is something odd about this evening, because it's the most planned any of their "encounters" has ever been and that puts a pressure on it that they are both aware of. Duo stole them plastic cups from the Mess Hall and they both have a big gulp worth of vodka in it. He raises his cup in a toast. "Bottom's up." He downs his drink and Heero follows his lead. Their faces screw up as the liquid burns their tongue and throat. Duo ends up coughing, feeling like he can't breathe. Heero goes red-faced and stares into the empty cup as if it offended him. "…Oh man," the Japanese-American managed after swallowing a couple of times to help get the aftertaste out of his mouth. "That's some potent stuff." Duo's voice is comically strained. "I think Follander's 'friend' might have sold him disinfectant instead." "Hm…" He nods in agreement. "Another shot?" Heero shrugs. "Yeah, what the Hell. Why not?" He grabs the bottle and pours them both another drink. It is not until after giving the fourth shot a moment to absorb into his system that Duo becomes aware of the effects of the alcohol. He had been doing fine and didn't feel a thing, until, all of a sudden, the edges of his vision blur and he becomes giggly. He feels the heat on his cheeks that he is used to getting when he drinks too much. He shoots a look at Heero and confirms his friend is also comfortably past the point of inebriation. The man is looking at thin air like it both fascinates and confuses him. Heero catches him staring and raising his eyebrows at him. When Duo grins sloppily, he mirrors him. "At least it works," Duo surmises. He shakes the bottle; there's barely anything left. "That it does." His eyes widen as realization hits him. "We're going to have the worst hangover tomorrow." Then he laughs at himself, for being so stupid that he didn't consider this sooner. "Patrol isn't until three. And we have our sexual harassment refresher in the morning. Everyone sleeps through that anyway." Heero's rumbling laughter continues, finding it very amusing that they have an anti sexual harassment course in the morning - reminding them of the rules against fraternization and sexual advances – the morning after the two of them will have fucked. Duo think about it for a second and then laughs as well. He devides the last of the vodka between their two cups. When he says "Bottom's up" for the second time that evening, they both burst out laughing at the word "bottom". Not until they have calmed down a little can they down their last shot. They banter back and forth, shooting off dry and crass jokes, both enjoying their giggly state so much they almost forget what the point of it is. Almost. Duo beckons him over with a crook of his finger and Heero complies, seating himself next to the other. All of a sudden, nothing is funny anymore and Duo crashes his mouth against Heero's and seals his lips with his in a kiss marked by desperation. Heero wraps one arm around his shoulders and drapes one thigh over Duo's, like he wants to crawl into his lap but can't figure out how to make it happen. Duo's hand lands on Heero's raised thigh and he traces the inside seam of his trousers to his groin. He is too drunk to be shy or hesitant, as is Heero. They take turns helping the other out of his shirt and then lay themselves down on Duo's bed, facing each other. Duo's mouth strays from Heero's and kisses along his jaw before meandering south and circling the Adam's apple. Heero drags his fingernails over Duo's sunburned forearms and a shiver passes through the taller man's entire body, culminating in his curling toes. He maneuvers himself on top of his partner and nudges his legs apart so he can slot between them. Their clothed erections meet and they groan and attempt another kiss. It's a lot of teeth and tongue and very little passion or actual pleasure, but they can't stop. Heero's hands move restlessly over Duo's torso – front and back – searching for something without ever finding it. Duo snakes a hand in between them to undo their trousers and get some skin-to-skin contact between their cocks. He is eager for it, remembering from other times how much he enjoys it. He has only just unbuckled Heero's belt when they both freeze up at the sound of an alarm. They break their kiss and stare at each other. The alarm. The alarm! "Oh shit!" They exclaim in unison. Duo crawls off Heero and, in his uncoordinated state, not only ends up kneeing the man in the groin but also stumbling over his own feet and falling face first on the dusty floor between their two cots. "Shitshitshitshitshit…" He scrambles to his feet and grabs his shirt and Kevlar vest, throwing Heero his. Heero puts his vest on without taking the time to bother with his T-shirt, cupping his groin in one hand and grimacing in pain. "Sorry," Duo frets. "'S fine," he says through gritted teeth and he pushes Duo out the door, grabbing their rifles, which are propped up against the wall. The entire camp is lit up by emergency floodlights, casting sharp, black shadows. Everyone comes hurrying out of their barracks, shouting at each other in disorientation. The unit gathers outside of equipment storage just as their Staff Sergeant emerges to give them their packs and instructions. "Yuy, Chapple, Maxwell, Lindsey and Flint, take the south gate and go around the perimeter, check for explosives or attempts at a breach of the wall. Follander and Medina, you reinforce the team in the western watchtower. Everyone else, you're with me." With a motion of his hand he jogs away and the other four men fall in line behind him. Follander studies Duo and Heero and instantly knows that they are in no state to leave the relative safety of the camp. Without hesitation, he speaks up: "Princess, Purple Heart, you guys switch with me and Medusa and go up to the watchtower." "Excuse me?" Medina frowns at him. "How about you just volunteer your own dumb ass to go get shot outside?" Follander elbows Medina in his ribs and shoots him a look that communicates everything. The Latin-American soldier grumbles his consent and the two of them join the threesome of Chapple, Lindsey and Flint, out the gate. Duo mouths "thank you" and then chases Heero up the stairs of the watchtower, where three others are already set up in sniper position. The five of them provide 360 degrees cover. They spot the muzzle flash of gunfire in the distance and a grenade goes off close enough to the base of the watchtower, at the edge of the compound, for the structure to shake and dust falls out of the overhead roofing and gets in their hair and eyes. They put on their night vision goggles, but the range of the goggles isn't far enough to be able to see anything and they still have nothing but the muzzle flash to go by. Since they can't discriminate between friendly and unfriendly fire, they keep their fingers off the trigger. Duo's body is vibrating as his system is pumped full of adrenaline and it mixes with the effects of the alcohol. He is on high alert, but has trouble focusing. His hands get so sweaty, he has to take turns wiping his palms on his trousers, switching his hold on his rifle. Through his in-ear he overhears communications within the unit and between units as it is all men on deck in response to the threat. A caravan of vehicles snakes towards the west gate. All Duo can see are the headlights; five pairs of them. "We have five unidentified vehicles inbound on the west flank. Can anyone confirm we have friendlies coming in?" The radio tower responds: "Negative, no friendlies incoming." "Goddammit," he grunts and adjusts his hold on his rifle. Of all fucking nights, these assholes just had to decide to attack when he's stinking drunk. As the vehicles approach, he gets a clear visual of them through his goggles. Five banged-up trucks, two of which with a Gatling gun mounted on the back, aimed upfront, an insurgent ducked behind the weapon. The first shot is fired and it's Heero. He hits the man behind the gun dead between the eyes and he collapses backwards into the back of the truck. Duo takes a steadying breath and goes for the kill-shot on the second gunman, but the bullet ricochets off the large weapon instead. Luckily, his reload is the fastest of any soldier and before the insurgent can duck Duo takes aim and he confirms the kill with the spatter that comes from the man's head before he collapses into the back of the vehicle. Neither Duo nor Heero can see the drivers behind the black windshields and you don't fire at an enemy you can't see unless you've exhausted all other options, so they fire at the engines of the cars instead. They fire round after round, until smoke comes out from underneath the hoods and the vehicles roll to a stop a few hundred yards away from the camp. They are swarmed by the teams of soldiers that had been circling the compound and more gunfire ensues. Duo, Heero and the other snipers on the watchtower provide assistance. In the end, none of the attackers surrenders in favor of keeping his life. They come out of hiding, taking desperate shots and soon fall lifeless to the ground. In the distance, the red tail lights of their back-up disappears into the rugged terrain, headed towards the mountain range. The pops of gunfire dies out and there is radio silence once it is confirmed that the attack has been thwarted and no one on their side got injured in the skirmish. Duo pulls off his goggles and breathes a sigh of relief. He feels dizzy and nauseous. When he looks at Heero, he can tell his friend isn't feeling much better. Debriefing is a blur. Luckily, no one notices that Duo's and Heero's eyes are clouded and that their balance is off. Follander covers for them when the Staff Sergeant questions their reassignment, going directly against his orders. The Private explains that Duo and Heero are much better shots than any of them. He takes the brunt of the scolding. Once he is satisfied that the Private has learned his lesson – that he can't dismiss direct orders and reassign two soldiers that both outrank him at his own judgment – the Staff lets it slide without serious repercussions. Duo and Heero walk back to their barrack in silence, until Duo finally says: "That was really stupid." Everyone always accuses him of being reckless and maybe, to an extent, he was. But he had never done anything close to as dumb as getting piss-ass drunk while in the middle of an active warzone. They could have gotten themselves killed, or worse: have gotten someone else killed. They were lucky nothing had gone terribly wrong, or they would never be able to live with themselves. This thing between them – whatever it was – should just be for fun. It shouldn't interfere with their lives and it definitely shouldn't cost anyone their life. "Yeah," Heero readily agrees, bowing his head in shame. They crawl into their own beds, but don't get much sleep that night.
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