I do not own Gundam Wing or it's characters. This is my first fic, and if I do anymore I promise I will be making no money from it. I'm broke anyway. This story involves boys being madly in love eachother, if that makes you uncomfortable here's your warning.
These Boots Were Made for Racing
A Heero and Duo story
The day was scorching hot, like any other day out at the track, and that was just how Duo liked it; hot. He loved the smell of burned rubber, high-octane gasoline, and body sweat in the morning. Duo stared out at the screaming crowd, he loved the deafening roar, he loved the adrenaline that pumped through his veins, and he absolutely loved to feel the power of his machine in his hands. Drag racing, an adrenaline junkie's dream come true. A few seconds of intense speed and power, and then it was all over, before you even knew what had happened. Wielding an amazing strength at almost uncontrollable speeds, the beast constantly threatening to wrench itself from your fists. You had to tame her, get her trust you, learn all her quirks, and keep her happy. His car and he had an intimate relationship; a constant fight for dominance that immensely intense at 200 mph. He lived for that kind of speed, that rush, he never was happy with a normal life. Sister Helen had always told him he was a thrill seeker; no he wouldn't walk down that path, not today. He walked up next to his vehicle and tapped the young blonde tinkering with the air level in the front left tire.
Qautre was the same age as Duo, and a genius when it came to the schematics of the car. They made a great team, the blonde would come up with some amazing minute alteration that would shave a tenth of a second off their time, and Duo was a genius when it came to implementing Qautre's designs. Duo's young engineer glanced up at the light tap on his shoulder. Duo smiled and motioned toward the empty lane next to him. Knowing that talking was useless with crowd making such a racket, he had silently asked Qautre if he knew anything about his missing opponent. Qautre just shrugged and stood up, whipping the black oil off his hands with a dirty rag.
Duo was getting bored, and a bored Duo was a dangerous Duo. With no opponent to taunt as entertainment he decided to taunt the crowd that he loved so much. He put one foot up on his baby, and rubbed one palm down her smooth sharp aluminum-alloy lines. He was about to fully launch himself to stand on the hood of his vehicle, when he felt tap on his shoulder. Thinking it was Qautre returning the favor he grabbed the hand, fully intending to swing Qautre around and drag his blonde comrade up too, he was somewhat shocked to turn and find an old grease monkey staring harshly at his hand, which was still in Duo's. Duo chuckled nervously and let go of the Ref's hand.
At the top of his lungs, in order to be heard over the not-so-dull roar of the audience, the Ref shouted into Duo's left ear. "If the other guy doesn't show in the next ten minutes, we have to give it to you."
"Shit." Duo swore. He hated the idea of winning by default. He hated getting all worked up and not getting to release his tension in five seconds of fuel burning fury. He nodded to the Ref as the old man made his way off the track. Duo took a quick glance at Qautre, during which he winked at the blonde engineer, his way of ensuring that mischief was in the air, then hauled himself up onto his hood.
Duo commanded the audience; in his first year in the races he had quickly become the favorite driver on the track. People were drawn to his outgoing, fun loving, personality, he was full of charm and one smile could render an entire stadium speechless. The women loved him because he was attractive, and sensuality seeped from his body in waves. The men supported him because of his talent on the track, his sharp wit, knowledge of all that was cars, and well the guy was just charming there was no denying it. Duo had become a sex symbol in his sport and was recognizable to people who didn't even watch the races. He was in magazines everywhere, not just all the sports ones; he was in people, Rolling Stone, and all kinds of teen magazines. He supposed it was because he was in fact still a teen himself. His most recognizable feature was his three-foot braid swinging down his back, it had become a bit of a trademark, it was definitely a focus in all his pictures. In most posters of himself, his back with the braid was facing the on-looker, and he would peek over his shoulder.
He had always loved adrenaline rushing speed sports. His freshman year he had been a sprinter on the high school team. He loved running the short ones, going all out right from the start and not stopping until the end. That was how he had always approached life. When he had first gotten his license he had fallen in love with the power of machine. His first driving lesson was with Father Maxwell. The Good Father had told him he was a natural in everything but obeying the laws. That was the second time today he had wandered down memory lane, what was up with him? A year later he had traded in foot power for horsepower when he became a sponsored driver and the youngest one in history at the ripe old age of 17, and hadn't looked back in a nearly a year.
The minute Duo had put his hand up while he stood on his racer; the entire audience went silent. Duo waved at the crowd and there was a short burst of cheers. He put his hand up again and the crowd was quiet. He winked at them and the ladies swooned and screamed. Then they were quiet again when Duo cleared his throat to speak. "They tell me my opponent was too busy shaking in his racing boots with fear, to come down here today." At this point shouts and cheers erupted from the stands. "They say that I'm not going to get any action from him today. So I guess it's up to me to make this a real party. If he ain't gonna come, I'm just gonna have to put on a little show for all you people who paid good money for one." The people roared in cheers and catcalls.
And that's when the previously promised mischief, began. Duo slowly unzipped his racing jacket, swaying his hips seductively as he fumbled with his jacket. Catcalls and whoops came from the audience as he slid the jacket off one shoulder, hips still gyrating, a small seductive smile playing across his lips. He pulled the jacket up and off 'accidentally' raising up his tank top undershirt and revealing an expanse of smooth corded ab muscle. He swung his jacket around his head like a cowboy would his hat, making small shallow pelvic thrusts. The crowd went absolutely wild and Duo responded by taking it up a notch. In true Chip and Dale tradition, he ran his jacket through his crotch and deepened his pelvic thrusting. Qautre just shook his head in amused embarrassment, laughing mainly at the fact that Duo still hadn't managed to notice that the opponent's car had pulled up at the start of his little speech and show. Duo did however finally notice this when he began to turning around moving his hips in an orgasm inducing circular motion. He froze when he laid eyes on the other vehicle. The driver already had his helmet on and was leaning against the side of his machine.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to show. I had to entertain myself while waiting for your arrival." Duo then lowered his voice and with amusement shining in his eyes he held the other driver's attention. "By the way, how long have you been there?"
"Well let's just say I definitely intend to show you some action today." A sexy nasal voice drifted to Duo's ears from the opponent's helmet. For the first time in Duo's life, he couldn't think of anything to say. Qautre started to crack up at the look on his teammate's' face, which earned him a glare. Duo would have said something to Qautre if a movement hadn't caught the corner of Duo's eye. He glanced over at his opponent who was in the process of removing his helmet. And for the second time in his life he was struck speechless, the guy was the epitome of gorgeous. His mysterious confidence, his dark, brooding, deep blue eyes shrouded by a mop of wild dark brown hair. Wild; that was the only word you could describe him, and yet at the same time he seemed so controlled. This was best explained by his eyes; which were so cold they burned, but that intense flame was perfectly contained to just his eyes. The rest of his body was completely calm, his face totally neutral, except for the almost imperceptible smirk that was forming on his lips as he looked Duo up and down. And Duo was graced by that accented voice once again, and this time he got to watch the words form on those wonderfully tempting lips. There was this slight pout to them that never went away even when the guy was smirking.
The opponent climbed on to his car hood just like Duo and, to Duo's surprise, winked at him. "Well, since I made you and the crowd wait, I suppose I should make this a little more interesting then. What do you say, are you in?" A full on smirk graced the driver's sexy mouth, as he continued to stare Duo down.
"What exactly would I be agreeing to Mr. . . " Duo returned his own irresistible grin with a quick wink.
"Heero Yuy." Was the response and Duo's eyes went slightly wide.
"Well, is that so, I've been waiting for my chance to finally beat you, and put a rest to any doubts of my ability. I'm Duo Maxwell." Heero actually raised an impressed eyebrow at Duo, of course he was impressed; Duo was a month younger than him and yet he had been racing a month longer. Heero had joined the racing prosat the same time as Duo, they were the same age and since then had been matching each other's records by hundredths of a second. They were the fans favorite rivals even though they had yet to race eachother.
"Well, if you have no doubts about your abilities, then what do you say we place a little wager on this race. You know, to make a better show for the audience." Heero commented, that infuriating smirk still firmly in place.
"They say the Devil's a bettin' man, so what do you have in mind." Heero almost raised an eyebrow again at the strange comment, but then remembered that Duo Maxwell's nickname was death, well he called himself Shinigami, which translated to the God of Death. He claimed it was because he could all his opponents by so much that they wished they could just die of humiliation. A superfluous excuse, Heero figured that it was ploy by the boy's sponsors to draw attention to him, though with that hair Heero couldn't understand a need to draw any more attention to the boy. If nothing else it was his rivalry with Duo that had made him famous, not necessarily his talent. That boy, people were just drawn to him, and even though he hated it, he too had been drawn in by the boys smile, but more by his voice. The boy could sing like nothing Heero had ever heard before. He had only had this privilege once before when he had first started racing. Duo and he had never gotten to race, but while Duo's pit area he had heard a voice, a voice that called to him. He had never met Duo before, and he didn't stay long enough to be seen, but he had slipped into Duo's garage and saw him sitting there, alone, singing. It was a sad song that Heero hadn't recognized at the time, it was beautiful though, and he had been waiting for the chance to race this enigma ever since. Now he had his chance, and what the hell was he thinking with this stupid bet thing, he had definitely lost his mind.
"Name your bargain, and I'll name mine. Whoever wins this race gets whatever they had requested, with one exception. If it's money you ask for it can only be as much as the prize money for this race. I don't' have a million dollars to go throwing around and I'm sure you don't either." Duo quirked an inquisitive eyebrow, then slowly a mischievous and sexy smile spread across face.
"Don't worry betting money is too boring, I want you to fear loosing this race so I know you're racing your best.That way everyone will know without a doubt that I'm the greatest." Duo's grin widened by just a fraction. "When I win you will have to give me your car."
"Wing?" Something crossed Heero's face, though it passed so quickly that Duo didn't have time to determine what it was. "Fine, but when I win . . ."
Duo cringed knowing that Heero would request his Death Scythe, and if he had Duo's car he would know the alterations that improve his time. Duo took a chance and glanced at Heero, whose smirk had only widened. Damn why couldn't Duo just keep his mouth shut. Qautre just shook his head in disapproval; Duo always got himself into these types of situations. Somehow he usually managed to get out of them, but this was different; Heero Yuy was good, really good. A deadly smirk spread across Heero's features, and for a second Duo almost regreted agreeing to this, amlost.
"When I win, I want a kiss from Death."