Author: Karen, The Huntress
Pairings: 1+2, 1x2
Warnings: AU, lemon in some parts
Archive: DHML Archive, Shades and Echoes.
Rating: R
Feedback: yes, please.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters.
Shadow Mist was originally written in 2003. I've made a few revisions so, with your kind permission, in honor of Halloween I decided to post the revised version. I hope you'll find it entertaining. Please enjoy your reading. Take care. Hugs, Karen The Huntress
Shadow Mist Part 1
Seeking shelter from chilly wind whipping down the street a lone figure ducked into an alley beside the Tenth Street Tavern.
Mid-twenties, dressed in black leather pants so snug they apeared to be painted on firm buttocks and a slate gray silk shirt hugged by a black leather jacket, the slender young man with twin silver hoops adorning his left earlobe blended perfectly with the midnight shadows.
With a snort of dissatisfaction, he fished out the last Marlboro and discarded the crumpled pack to join sheets of yellowed newspaper, shattered beer bottles and used condoms littering the secluded area.
The flame from a lighter momentarily illuminated high-ridged cheekbones. A deep draw intensified the burning end's crimson glow. In a leisurely exhalation, wisps of smoke drifted from flared nostrils.
Just outside the alley's dim fringes, an orange tabby hunting for rats slinked among the trash. Amber eyes regarded the stranger fleetingly then, tail hoisted in a disdainful manner, the scruffy cat blended back into the darkness like ink through rice paper.
Once more the smoldering cigarette created a bright pinpoint in the murky gloom. "You'd better find a warm place to sleep." the man advised the feral feline from previous experience.
One last puff, the depleted butt was flicked away. Thousands of tiny embers, skittering across debris-strewn asphalt, dissolved into windblown ashes leaving no hint they ever existed.
*********
Cooler temperatures and the late hour had reduced the volume of pedestrian traffic which, in turn, had restricted Heero Yuy's business of whoring. An equal opportunity server, female or male, it didn't matter as long as they had money to pay.
Resigned to the fact, at least for that night, no more revenue would be forthcoming Heero smoothed back dark brown bangs and stepped from his self-imposed seclusion only to encounter two women whose profession was also selling sex.
Waltzing to the music of the city-revving engines, honking horns, air brakes on buses, sirens wailing in the distant and disembodied voices wafting from unspecified locations-the promiscuous pair paused in their dance of seduction to give their male counterpart a scrutinizing inspection from head to toe.
Both "ladies" could have easily been persuaded to spread their legs, but the sensual purveyor of fantasies wasn't in the mood. Besides the feigned lovemaking would only grant him temporary release and do nothing to ease his loneliness.
Setting off in the direction of home, the off duty prostitute's right hand slipped into his jacket pocket to curl around an eight-inch switchblade.
Senses on full alert Heero boldly dared to traverse the turf claimed by Satin's Slaves, a band of ruffians who had no aversions to beating, raping or killing whores invading their territory.
On the corner of 42nd and Commerce Street Heero's vigilant cobalt eyes focused on a shadowy silhouette sitting at the Plexiglass-shielded bus stop.
Despite a long braid in mingled hues of ginger and cinnamon, the figure was undeniably a male and about the same age.
Shoulders slumped, elbows braced on knees and head bent low as if studying his boots, the sidewalk or, perhaps nothing in particular, the man appeared harmless.
However, since outward appearances were unreliable in judging someone's intensions and his street wise policy was minding his own business, Heero prepared to walk by with no more than a second glance.
Suddenly a subtle mental petition urged Heero to slow his pace.
Upon closer observation there was stark evidence the solitary man was out of his element. The degree of unguarded exposure in his body language, the perceived vulnerability would surely invite deadly attention from the wrong people.
Reconsidering his decision to move on without notice, Heero stopped at a secure distant. After all it had been a long night and he was tied, the perfect combination to cloud his instinctual senses.
A glance at his watch. Green digital numbers stated12:45 a.m.
"Waiting for the bus?" Heero inquired, raising his voice to be heard above the constant din of traffic.
At the unexpected question the man's head snapped up and Heero was beheld by wide eyes an extraordinary shade of violet.
"What?" was asked with visible tension as if the man was just now aware of the leather clad stranger's presence.
"If you're waiting for the bus the last one ran fifteen minutes ago."
"The bus?"
Another pause.
"No."
Again some peculiar subliminal influence prodded Heero to move closer.
In the improved light he was shocked by how thin the young man was. Dark circles underscored those odd eyes and skin was pale against the faded denim jacket too flimsy to keep the cold at bay.
Concerned not only for the man's safety, but his fragile health as well, the streetwalker declared, "It's not safe to be here alone."
"I'll be all right." But a gut deep shudder betrayed the lie.
"Can't leave him here." Heero muttered under his breath.
He won't survive the night. his inner counsel emphasized the seriousness of the situation.
Trusting his instincts Heero sat down on the bench. The braided youth straightened then scooted over to maintain a comfortable separation from the unfamiliar person.
"You can't stay here. You're cold and I bet it's been awhile since you've eaten." Heero pleaded his case. "My apartment is a few blocks from here. If you stay the night I won't mess with you in any way."
A negative nod.
"Please."
More than the seemingly sincere offer of sanctuary, the unfriendly elements, inhospitable streets and an empty belly ultimately convinced the shivering man.
"Okay."
Body numbed by the cold, standing up caused the man to wobble.
Putting his excellent reflexes to good use, Heero caught his soon-to-be guest around the waist and shored him up.
The man stiffened at the contact. "I won't hurt you." the prostitute promised guiding the "stray" up the street.
"My name is Heero."
Those alluring violet eyes fixed Heero's gaze and for a moment he forgot to breathe.
"Duo." was sighed as his strength all but gave out.
TBC...
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