Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Fic: Santa Clarita: The Path Forward: Black Blood 1/1

Santa Clarita: The Path Forward: Black Blood
by Max
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing.
Notes: This is au... it’s more more current sci-fi than Gundam Wing was.  This is set several hundred years after Bad Parenting.

Warnings: Sex and character death, not one of the boys, mind you, but it still made me cry.

Strong fingers, calloused, the middle finger bent from a break that didn’t heal right, those fingers slowly caressed down glossy black hood.  Lean hips covered in worn denim pressed against shiny new metal and then the man boosted himself up to the hood, pivoting and leaning back against the windshield. One back boot rested on the hood of his favorite, the other leg hung lazy off the side, comfortable with a reckless kind of grace. A bit of dark grease lingered on the hard edge of his jaw and matched the smear on his dark blue Maxwell Salvage tee-shirt. His braid rest on his shoulder, trailed down his chest to his belt, shorter than it would have been, but there had been a fire and hair was harder to regrow than skin.

His vaporizer rested in his fingers like a part of him, like something older and more dangerous than it was, sweet lavender mist trailing away from his lips, pale thin lips.  Dark violet eyes watched the open garage door, watching the sun set and turn into a mix of blue and amethyst. It was like the sky whispered love to him.  He took another drag on his vape, then ran his tongue over his teeth, impatient for the night. Impatient for what the night promised to bring him.

Dust stirred outside his garage, lifting pale dry dust up, such that he almost expected a little mini blast crater, but Heero set the big skid down perfectly, light as sunlight, and Duo found himself sitting up, cigarette hanging from his grinning lips. There was nothing as sexy as fucking competence, unless it was Heero Fucking Yuy being, well, Heero Fucking Yuy.  Duo rubbed the front of his pants, practicing a moment of mindfulness where he wasn’t reacting to Heero in that way.

The cargo door lowered, providing a ramp up into the belly of the skid for his car, and there was Heero. His hair had grown out a bit, as he’d promised to grow his hair with Duo, after the fire. It had been a useless gesture, but Duo grew to love it more all the time.  It was words that Heero didn’t say.  The Preventer Major stood there, the last light of the sun coming in through the cockpit around him like a fucking angelic aura, putting gold in that dark hair, making his lean form all hard lines and coiled energy. He wore a Preventer brown shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the dark lines of his holster sharp across his chest.

Duo’s gut tightened and he held his cigarette between his teeth for a moment as they stared at each other. It was like that moment right before release happens, all pleasant tension and a fall on the other side that, one just can’t know before you’re in it. Heero broke first, striding down the lowered ramp. Once the light was off of him, he was more just the Heero that Duo loved. He was a fucker who pissed with the toilet seat down and never missed and never drank too much, never came too soon, and my god, he was all that was good in the world.  Duo was off the hood of his car and his half of the way to Heero before Heero had stepped off the ramp.  Cigarette in his pocket, his heart was in his throat when Heero leaned to kiss him. His breath felt ragged, steadying when Heero wrapped a strong arm around him and pulled him close. A little taller than Heero, Duo still felt like a reed in Heero’s arms - Heero was the oak, steady and powerful, and Duo more the lightning that danced and zipped. Heero somehow withstood all the strikes, thrived while drinking the power of them.

“What time do you need to be there,” Heero demanded, his lips moving to bite and kiss Duo’s ear, tongue sliding along the ridge of cartilage before his teeth gently tugged at Duo’s piercing.

“2200,” Duo moaned, hands on Heero’s shoulders, the mountain solid power in them. “How are you? I missed you this week.”

“Yes,” Heero said, fingers sliding under the worn blue thinness of Heero’s shirt. “The mission was successful. Your work week?”

“Same old shit,” Duo said, not wanting to discuss his work. While he had a salvage business, his daily work was at the hospital in New York. “I want to fuck you.”

“No,” Heero said as he bit Duo’s throat just a little rougher. “I have thought about you in every available moment. Put the car in the carrier.”

Duo pulled back, though not very far as his shoulder was still touching Heero. That physical connection was powerful beyond what he could understand rationally.   He patted the car and said,  “Get in the skid,  D5.”
The headlights blinked three times and the engine roared to life, sounding every bit like a big internal combustion engine. He rolled forward, taking himself up into the belly of the transport that Heero had brought.

Duo turned his attention back to Heero. “So what part of you thinking about me means I don’t get to nail your ass,” Duo asked, challenging, hands on Heero’s chest, walking him back up into the the carrier. “You know you like it, my cock spreading those pretty cheeks of yours,” Duo said, smirking with a bit of pervert in violet eyes.

As they left the ramp, it lifted itself closed, and Heero reached out and grabbed Duo’s braid, pulling his head back, as he kissed along the exposed skin. He drew his tongue slowly up that sun touched skin, licking salt and a day’s work. “Because I’m going to fuck you this time, right after you get on your knees and suck me. I’m going to tie your wrists together and you’re going to do what I tell you.”

Duo groaned, rocking his hips against Heero’s, one leg hooked around Heero’s leg. “Fuck yeah, Heero. Fuck my virgin ass,” Duo begged, loving these moments when the tables turned that way.

Still holding his braid, head pulled back, Heero whispered in his ear, “And I will never let you go. I will fuck you when I want. Do you understand?”

“Fuck you,” Duo said, spinning in his grip, slipping free and dancing a couple steps away. He traced his tongue over his lips, which were darker now, flushed with desire. He ran and Heero chased him. He made it to the other side of the car, which the carrier had secured  prior to lifting off.  The flight was easy, steady, even as it approached the sound barrier.  Heero chased though and they used the car as a barrier between them, feinting and lunging, chasing until Duo slid across the hood and Heero vaulted over the roof, landing solidly in front of Duo, one hand on either side of him as Heero leaned close and pressed Duo back against the hood. “Now, I am going to fuck you. Feel free to scream.”

Duo was perfectly strong enough with the augments he’d had after the wars, to hold his own against Heero. There had been some truly dark days when that strength had been all that saved them, but in that moment, he pressed his hands against Heero’s chest and held his lower lip between his teeth as he moaned.  Heero grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled him. He expertly pulled Duo’s strong arms behind him and bound his wrists with a magnetic strip that would hold until Duo really wanted it to release. Bent over the hood, his wrists bound Duo kicked lightly and Heero pressed an hand down between his shoulders. “Relax. I am going to fuck you. You only make it worse if you fight,” he said, trying to sound menacing.”  

Duo slipped deeper in the rp. His cock had been hard from the moment Heero landed and it wasn’t any softer now.  As Heero reached around him and unfastened his belt, his jeans, and slowly pushed the fabric down, revealing smooth creamy ass, Duo moaned in protest. Heero’s hand took hold of his cock, stroking him intimately running his hand over Duo’s cock and balls as if it were the first time and a stolen treasure. “Spread your legs, slave,” Heero barked. “Don’t try to deny me my rights!”

Groaning, Duo spread his legs a little more, though his fallen jeans kept them from moving too far. “No!”

“You have no choice,” Heero purred, body lying over Duo’s his own hard cock, still covered under his uniform slacks, pressing firmly against Duo’s exposed ass. “Your ass is mine, from now on. You will suck when I tell you and bend over when I tell you.”

Heero reached between them and ran his fingers between Duo’s cheeks caressing, then one finger massaged his anus. “When I want, I’ll ride you dry and you can scream all you want.”

“No,” Duo mock begged, wiggling, somehow pressing his hips back against Heero’s finger. “No, please let me go!”

“Never,” Heero growled. He pulled his hand back, as the other grabbed a handful of Duo’s soft brown hair. He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out a tube of Duo’s favorite lube, flipped the top with his thumb and encouraged a solid dot onto his fingers. He closed the lid, and set it on the hood, where it stayed because he’d glued a magnet to it.

He was a bit rougher when he pushed his finger into Duo’s tight ass, slicking it up as he pulled his lover’s hair just a little. “Does that hurt yet, my sweet little bitch?”

“Yes! Oh please! NO!” Duo moaned, pushing his ass back against Heero’s fingers. “I’ll scream!”

“Oh please do,” Heero growled against his ear. “I’d love that, Pretty One.”

He was careful though, moving to two fingers, making sure Duo was actually relaxed and ready for his cock, fingering him extra just because he loved seeing Duo moan and wiggle in restraints.

“I have another treatment for you,” Heero growled. “If you try to stand back up, I will beat you with my belt. Do you understand, Slave Boy?”

“Yes, yes, sir,” Duo trembled, wishing Heero would touch his cock too, but not wanting Heero to take his hand out of his hair. “I’ll be good!”

The lube was also a  high tech sanitizer, which was one of the reasons Duo liked it.  Heero held him down for a moment more before letting go and squatting behind him, dropping to one knee. He spread Duo’s cheeks, and stared for a moment at the slick pink entrance, smooth and clean and every bit as beautiful as when they’d first started with each other, though Duo was bigger and stronger than a skinny war torn kid now.

Heero leaned closer and kissed one cheek then the other, kissed a bullet hole scar on the back of Duo’s thigh, then kissed the valley. He thrust his tongue into Duo’s ass. Duo’s head came up off the hood, his mouth an O of surprise, violet eyes wide, his cock throbbing. “Fucking! Heero, oh god!”

“Take your medicine like a good slave,” Heero growled.

Duo leaned forward, trying to relax and submit as Heero fucked him a little more, warm and wet and then Duo wanted that wet on his cock, wanted it badly enough to squirm and moan. His muscles were relaxed though, ready, so ready for Heero’s cock. As Heero licked, he opened his slacks, freed his cock, slicked it with what remained of the lube on his fingers. He moved fast, rising, his cock sliding deep into Duo without warning, as Heero lay his body over him, pinning him, owning him, joining with him, and Duo groaned loudly, not sure in that moment that he wasn’t going cum right there.  Heero kissed his ear, felt his own cock throbbing in Duo’s ass. “Always,”he whispered in his ear.
“And forever,” Duo replied, “through all time and...”

“Back,” Heero promised, fucking him gently, slowly, “I really thought I might get a scream out of you.”

Duo drew in his breath, dropped deep in character and gave a primal scream, filled with pain and forced submission. Heero kissed his ear, his throat, trembling as he held Duo tightly, arms around him face against his shoulders, fucking him slowly, deeply. “Do it again,” Heero begged.

The scream reverberated around the cargo hold and Heero bit Duo tenderly and they both came, panting and groaning, covered in sweat, for several moments of activity, but intense and some intense is fusion at millions of degrees in a breath.  Heero held him tight, kissing gently, holding him as if he’d never want to let go and Duo was happy to be held. They lay there together longer than it had taken them to get off. “I love you,” Heero whispered quietly.

“Yes,” Duo replied, mimicking Heero in love and acceptance. “ETA?”

“Twenty minutes. We should shower,” Heero suggested.

“Another couple minutes,” Duo said, leaning his head so Heero could kiss his neck a little more. “We should take some time off.”

“Sure,” Heero said, knowing that Duo wouldn’t take time off until the class wars were over in New York - there were just too many injured still. “Anytime you want - go to Mars for a decade or so.”

“Yeah,” Duo said, finally pushing up. “Let’s get cleaned up.”



The only shower available was a hose and a tank of water so they just wiped up with wet clothes and changed their clothes into something a little more respectable. Decent jeans and button up shirts. Heero wore a tie. Duo put on a black ball cap.

Heero landed them just outside Paris at the speedway. Duo polished up his beautiful black car just a little more. She had a the body of a 2015 Mustang and a modded Tesla engine, with all kinds of unspeakable, but technically legal mods. He’d loved this car for a very long time.

Loved him in a possessive kind of way. It was a replica of a car that Heero had given him during his first medical residency.  He’d won races and wrecked so many times. Lost races too, but those he wanted to forget more than remember. The skid bounced a little in the landing and he slipped into the driver’s seat and petted the dash as if today were going to be his race.

Some things were harder to let go of than cars. The ramp was lowering as Heero joined him, slipping into the passenger seat.  When the ramp was fully down, Duo fired the engine, revved it like gas was turning to little puffs of heat in non-existent cylinders. Heero laid a hand on his shoulder and the skid released its hold on car. Duo let them slowly roll forward.

Outside the skid landing zone, which was smaller than Duo would have wanted for anyone other than Heero.  Festival surrounded them and Duo was afraid for a moment that they wouldn’t find what they were looking for.   

Then a girl, maybe twenty or so ran towards the car, waving her arms joyfully. Duo’s hands tensed and Heero squeezed his shoulder. “She looks just like her.”

“Yes.” Heero hissed.

Duo put a smile on his face, bright and charming. He powered the car down and stepped out, an arm out to embrace the girl coming towards him.

“Great-grand-dad! You’re here! I didn’t think you’d come! Gran was so worried!”

He pulled her close and hugged her tightly. Generations and centuries bound them and he loved her. He’d delivered her. He’d delivered her mom. He smoothed his hand over her long dark hair as if he could keep her forever. She wiggled free though and ran around to Heero’s side. “Great-gran-pa! I knew you’d get him here! I love you so much! I’m going to accademy! Did you do that?”

Heero hugged her quickly, then held her shoulders and glared at her sternly. “I would never intervene on your behalf. You succeed on your own, Poplin.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said, her expression like Duo’s... cultural marks that had passed through the generation. “Gran is super proud of me. She says I’m just like you!”

“She always was a bit of a liar,” Duo teased, standing on the railing of the car, his arms on the roof. “Good job though. So you’re gonna go up to Mars for a while.”

“Yeah! I leave next week, but come on, come see Gran. She wants to see you all.”

“I bet she does,” Duo said, bitter and sour. “Here, Poptart. The car is for you. An academy gift from me.”

“Holy Smolies!” she laid a hand on it. “I can’t... how would I get it to the academy?”

“I arranged that,” Heero said, as if he were talking about a baloney sandwich.
“Wow!” she ran back to the driver’s side. “Really? Totally mine?”

“Totally yours,” Duo promised, “You can train the AI. It’s mostly blank. It’s also registered in the race tomorrow, if you want.”  

“Gran’s gonna kill you,” Poplin hissed.

“Well, that’s the choices she makes, ain’t it,” Duo said, grinning wickedly.

“You are a bad, bad man,” Poplin Murphy Maxwell said as she slipped into the driver’s seat and it formed up around her moving forward, adjusting perfectly to her as if it were made exactly for her alone.

“Oh yeah,” Duo said, rubbing the car for another moment before he stepped back. “But I ain’t never catchin the fuckin fade  neither. Ask’im about iz history,” Duo said, shoving his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t touch the car anymore. “Important car.”

“Dad,” she said, jumping out of the car again to hug him tight. “I love you! Thank you!” She pulled back and looked at him sternly. “Go see Gran. She can’t transcend until she sees you.”

“London, Heero? I wanna go ta London.”

“Go see Poppy, Duo, and do the right thing.” Heero said firmly.

Duo threw him a look that was genuinely pissy, turned and strode off. His internal connection to the greater cloud told him how to find his daughter. It wasn’t like he could ignore the path if he had committed to getting there. The past always has an allure, like you can just step backwards and be in a moment where you don’t know the path you need to walk. One more step back and your daughter is a little girl, learning to walk, napping with your braid in her hand, and those moments seem so damn close, like just one step back - like if you just turn around then there she is, those big brown eyes and a smile that promises to last for fucking ever. But that’s now how time goes and time is relentless.

Duo sat down in front of the clearly marked medical tent, the reason for this whole fucking festival, and he wanted so bad for death to mean to these people what it meant to him. Sitting there on a plain wooden crate, he stared at his hands, at hands that had saved lives and ended lives and bled themselves, and he wondered just what the fuck the point was. Some moments he felt so old, felt every century he carried. He knew the past, the time before his birth too, because he’d walked through that time. He’d sat with people who comforted themselves with stories of fantasy heavens and loving gods and terrifying hells, and he longed for that past for a moment too.

These people had a different path across life and death. It wasn’t his path. It wasn’t Heero’s path. The thing with the Long Walk though was that there were many bitter pills along with the sweet.


He heard that frail voice and took deep breath.  There is some bit of the past that is easy to get too... being the loving parent and giving your child what you need to give them is something that always comes back, as if it ever left.  He took a deep breath, found a smile, and slipped into the sterile tent, passing through the decontamination field as he went.

For one moment, his Poppy was his little Poppy again, her bright eyes full of wonder and boundless energy. He pushed that even farther back until she was a tiny little baby he’d found and brought back from the edge of death.

Death seemed to want her though and he remembered, surprising himself that he’d forgotten somehow, that he was Death.  He sat down by her bed and took an old and fragile hand in his hand. “Hey, Poppy. How’s it hangin?”

“Dad. Why is this so hard for you? You haven’t changed a day... not a touch... not in all these years. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“I could do that for you too, baby girl. Just say the word and I’ll make all this go away. Don’t you want to see Poplin race? See her come back from Mars in a while?”

“Dad,” Poppy said softly. “You’ll be here. You’re always here. You’re my dad.”

“I am,” he said, not stopping the tears that slipped down his face. “It’s not permanent, you know.. you could come back.”

“No one ever has,” she said, softly, her hand closing just a little tighter around his. “I have lived as long as I want, Dad. Some people just don’t have forever in them. I can’t take the pain like you can.”

Duo leaned forward, pressed his forehead to her hand. “Don’t go. I can repair everything. I can make you young. You know that. You’ll love again. You’ll have more children. You can go back to school. You’ll be happy again. I promise.”

“Dad,” she said softly, her other twisted old hand awkwardly smoothing his hair. “I have lived a fabulous life and I only waited for you because I love you. I wanted to thank you. Please Dad, tell me it’s okay if I go. If you really want me to stay, I will, but Dad, please, let me go.”

Duo’s tears smeared over her hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

“Go. Go in peace Poppy Murphy Maxwell. You have done well and I am proud of you. Be free of the sorrow of life.”

“Walk the Long Path, Dad. I know you always will,” she said, her voice sounding younger then, as she gave completely into The Fade. There data patterns left the fragile network of her organic brain, transferring into perfect stasis on a small little gem that would last a trillion years without degrading, but always be in the perfect moment of happiness for the data pattern within. Her hand became immaterial in his, fading away into nothingness as the technology supporting her unmade all her physical molecules. In place of her hand, he held a coin sized amethyst. He closed his fist around it, and wished her well, prayed to some unnamed instinct that she would be at peace.

The passing of time was a black blood that would never stop running through his veins.

Still crying, he pulled a pendant on a titanium chain up from under his shirt so he could slip the gem into the locket he’d brought to put her in. He leaned back, letting his head fall back, only to run into Heero standing behind him. Strong fingers brushed over his eye lashes, pushing tears away. “I am proud of you,” Heero said, leaning closer so he could kiss his forehead. “I’ll walk the Long Path with you as long as there is universe to walk in.”

“Always,” Duo said, reaching up to caress the side of Heero’s face.

“And forever,” Heero replied.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Comic: Santa Clarita: Bad Parenting - Chapter One, kinda

So there are a couple different art styles in this... and I'm not sure it makes much sense to anyone other than me, but it might be worth looking at if you like Heero and Duo. The boys are in the past... they are about to come into conflict with Joel and Martha... well before they are supposed to be meeting Joel and Martha - back when Joel and Martha were very not friendly. 

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Comic: Santa Clarita: Sad 1/1

Hi :)

Joel is going his best to parent, and doing better than one might expect, but well, he's still more of a black ops dude than a dad. I hope the comic makes sense.


Disclaimer:  I still don't own Gundam Wing.