Disclaimers:  I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.

Notes:  Duo gets drunk and makes a huge mistake concerning Heero.

Servitude, Retribution, and Enchantment

Part Thirty

Heero groaned and blinked his eyes open as the door to the bedchamber opened.  It was late at night and he had been sleeping
before he had so abruptly awakened.  He felt a wave of panic before he saw his master, Duo, stagger into the room.  Even from
across the chamber, Heero could smell the stench of alcohol.  Duo positively reeked of it.

Duo approached the bed, tripping and nearly falling over a number of times as he removed his garments, before finally collapsing
onto the bed.  By then, he was completely without clothing.  Heero sighed, turning away from the sight of his master’s nude
body, not liking this.  He was about to curl up and go back to sleep when a warm hand caressed his face.

“Master?”  Heero asked, watching Duo with wide eyes.

“So beautiful.  Did you know that, Heero?”  Duo asked, his voice slurred with intoxication.  “Did anyone EVER tell you just how
beautiful you are?”  Duo’s eyes were glassy and almost feverish, a strange and frightening gleam held within the orbs.  It was a
look that Heero remembered from countless times before, from the cruel masters that had tried to force themselves on him.  It
was that same greedy, lustful look that was in Duo’s eyes now, the look that was now frightening Heero.

‘He’s drunk!’  Heero’s mind screamed as he tried to pull away from the other youth.  “Master . . . you said you wouldn’t touch
me.  You promised.”  Heero whimpered, terrified as Duo reached up and removed the weighted veil from his face.

Duo’s voice was distant.  “Hmmmm?”  He asked, stroking lazy fingers over Heero’s face, his hot, alcohol tainted breath wafting
across Heero’s skin.

Heero opened his mouth, only to gasp when Duo suddenly started to kiss him.  The kiss was deep, and Heero trembled a little
when Duo’s tongue probed his mouth.  It reminded him of that day when Duo had licked the cider from his lips, the day Heero
had been taken to see Meiran.  It scared Heero that Duo was doing this.  The kiss wasn’t really forceful . . . but it was full of
hunger, of wanton desire without consideration . . . Heero didn’t want this.

Heero brought his hands up to push Duo away, only to shudder as he felt Duo’s other hand rubbing his groin through the
blankets.  His fingers clenched at Duo’s shoulders, sweat breaking out on his chilled skin as he fought to process these strange
emotions, these unknown feelings.

He gasped as Duo broke the kiss.  “What are you . . . ?”

“Too beautiful for words.”  Duo interrupted, smiling in his drunken haze.  Without any further warning, Duo pushed the
blankets from the bed, taking Heero’s flimsy loincloth and tearing it from his body.  It was mere moments before Duo’s hands
began to stroke him, before he felt as Duo’s heated erection was lined up along his own burgeoning arousal.

Heero’s breathing hitched, feeling so unusual . . . never, not in his entire life, had he felt things such as this.  He knew it was
wrong.  It had to be wrong to feel pleasure from this.  His master was being gentle, but he wasn’t ready.  He hadn’t been
trained, not even a little.  Heero didn’t want this, and yet his body was screaming for more, his bones aching for something he
couldn’t comprehend.

He whimpered a little as Duo ground against him, one of Duo’s hands at his hip, the other clenched tightly on his shoulder.  It
felt so good . . . but so bad all at the same time.  Heero turned his head, feeling as tears burned in the corners of his eyes, falling
quickly to dampen the pillow.  Duo’s mouth descended on his throat, sucking and tasting, causing nothing but confusion, fear,
and pleasure to the inexperienced slave.

“S-Stop . . . please.”  Heero begged one last time, clenching his eyes shut as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip to stop the
moan that ached in the back of his throat, tasting the metallic tang of his blood as it filled his mouth.  He didn’t want Duo’s
affections, didn’t want this . . . but then why did it feel so good?

Suddenly, it all stopped.  Duo’s mouth was no longer sucking on his throat, his hands weren’t touching him, his body was no
longer laying overtop of him.  Heero took a chance and opened his eyes, shivering as he found Duo looking down on him
curiously from the side.  His expression quickly turned to one of embarrassment, to shame.

“I’m sorry, Heero . . . I don’t know what to say.”  He whispered, reaching out to touch Heero’s cheek, lightly brushing away a
trail of tears.

Heero recoiled, scrambling over the side of the bed and backing to the nearest wall.  He panted for breath, staring at Duo with
terror and confusion in his heart.  Duo had promised . . . he had promised that he wouldn’t touch him, that he wouldn’t hurt him
. . . Duo had lied.

Duo looked to be getting ready to stand, yet the moment he attempted to rise, he fell back to the bed with a groan.  Heero sat
where he was and watched for a moment, allowing his heartbeat time to slow to a steady pace.  Duo didn’t move from where
he lay, his body in an awkward position on the bed.  It didn’t look as if he was going to get up, yet Heero was nervous.  What if
Duo tried to take him, what if this was a trick to get him to step closer to the bed so that he could grab him?  Heero didn’t know
if he wanted to take that chance.  Still . . . there was something inside of him that told him to see to Duo’s comfort, a nagging
urge that he found he couldn’t resist.

Shaking, Heero pushed himself to his feet.  He cautiously stepped over to the bed, his eyes darting across Duo’s immobile form
repeatedly, watching for any sign of movement.  There was only the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and nothing more.  
Heero found himself relieved that Duo was not dead, although he couldn’t understand why, since Duo had turned out to be no
better than any of the others.

His hands were trembling as he brought them to grasp Duo’s ankles.  Slowly, not wanting to awaken the young man, Heero
lifted his feet, swinging them onto the bed.  As quickly as he could manage, he covered his master with the blankets, fighting
back his tears with every memory that burned in his mind.

As soon as Duo was reasonably settled in bed, Heero backed away, knowing that he could not sleep in the same bed with the
young man.  There was no way he was going to get so close to him, not when he had already tried to . . . he shook his head,
not wanting to think of what may have happened had Duo not stopped.  He would be no one’s whore.

Flicking his eyes to the door and back to the bed where Duo lay asleep, Heero considered his options in this matter.  He could
stay here and probably be raped . . . or he could attempt an escape and possibly be caught or killed by Duo’s guards.  Neither
were good choices.  Heero sighed, thinking.  He came to his decision as Duo let out a slight moan in his sleep, rolling over and
groping the empty place in bed where Heero had been sleeping only minutes ago.  Heero could not stay here.  Better he die than
allow himself to be forcefully taken.  He grabbed a loose sheet from the bed and wrapped it around himself, seeing nothing else
that he could use to cover himself with.  Duo’s garments stank of alcohol and body odor, and were filthy, besides, he did not
know if they would fit him.

He approached the door of the bedchamber, then reached out and grasped the handle.  Was this really a good idea?  Heero didn’t
know the answer to that.  Still, anything would be better than being nothing more than a toy for another man’s pleasure.  He
sighed, pulling open the door and peering out into the dimly lit corridor.  He saw no one, so he stepped outside, quietly closing
the door behind himself.

He crept along the hall, staying close to the wall, his heart throbbing in his chest as he made his way in the dark manor.  He did
not know his way well enough to find the door easily, so he had to hope that he was traveling in the right direction.

Heero gasped, his eyes going wide as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him.  He looked around, finding nowhere that
he could hide.  He tried the nearest door, but found it to be locked, and he couldn’t go off running down the hall, no that might
just attract more attention to himself.  He was going to be caught . . . and punished.  He had disobeyed one of Duo’s rules, he
would surely be whipped or beaten for this.

Fresh tears escaped his eyes and he allowed himself to sink to the floor, sliding down along the wall until he was huddled in a
small ball.  He trembled there, his face buried in his knees, his arms covering his head as he awaited a strike from the person that
was not too far from him by now.

“Heero?”  A familiar voice spoke.

Heero blinked, fearfully opening his eyes and peering out of the protection that his arms provided.  He smiled in relief, seeing that
Hilde was kneeling in front of him.  She set her hand on his arm, a deeply concerned gaze in her eyes.

“Heero . . . why aren’t you in Duo’s room?  You know the rules . . . you can’t leave his chamber until he tells you that you
can.”  Hilde said, then blinked, her fingers raising to brush across his cheek.  “Oh, you’re crying.  Is something wrong?”

Heero couldn’t help it, he was simply frightened.  He surged forward, wrapping shaking arms around Hilde, pulling her close.  
“He was drunk . . . he tried . . .”  Heero paused, swallowing as he attempted to speak.  “You said it wouldn’t hurt.  You said he
wouldn’t hurt me.”  He whimpered, burying his face against Hilde’s shoulder, sinking into her embrace as she circled her arms
around him.  “It hurts, Hilde . . . not physical pain, but it still hurts.”

“Oh, Heero . . . I’m so sorry.”  Hilde whispered, her hands soothing against his bare back.  “You’re trembling.  Come on, let’s
get you someplace where you can rest.”  She pulled the sheet up a little higher, so that it covered his shoulders.

Heero backed away from her, his eyes wide with fear.  “I can’t go back in that room, Hilde!”  He said fearfully.  “He might
wake up again.  What if he wants . . . what if he wants to continue where he left off?  I don’t want to be hurt!”

Hilde smiled a little, raising her hand and gliding her fingers down along Heero’s face.  “Sshh, don’t worry.  I won’t send you
back to Duo’s room, not now anyway.  Come on, you can sleep in my bed tonight.  My room may not be as grand as Duo’s,
but it serves its purpose.”  She held out her hand, which Heero gratefully took, allowing her to help him to his feet.  He was
relieved that she was helping him, that she wasn’t going to force him back to Duo’s bedchamber.

Hilde’s room was just as she had said it would be.  It was simple, a single small bed in the room.  There was a desk, a chair and
a small wardrobe, hardly anything else than that.  Of course, considering that she had been a slave, this was a lot.  Slaves were
usually kept in a bunk house, or left to sleep on pallets on the floor.  Rare was it for any slave to have a room all to themselves.

“Come on, you need to sleep.”  Hilde said, closing the door once Heero had entered.

She smiled, pushing the sheet down and away from Heero’s body.  Heero ducked his head, feeling as a blush crept over his
features.  He did not like being bared of his clothing.  Hilde said nothing though, she merely discarded her own garments and
took hold of Heero’s hand again, gently urging him over to her bed.

They lay together, nothing more than that, only the blankets of her bed to cover either of them.  Heero found himself
comfortable in Hilde’s arms, her body flush against his.  There was no fear that she would hurt him . . . she had been a slave
and knew of his fears, and that made her more trustworthy to him than anyone he had met so far.  He found himself suddenly
tired and hastily slipped off to sleep, Hilde humming a gentle tune and running her fingers through his hair in order to lull him as
he succumbed to his weariness.

To Be Continued . . .