Platinum [complete]

This is a fic made from the raw roleplay between myself and Mookie, a friend. It contains all out Zechs x Heero smut, and it\'s set in an alternate universe. Enjoy!

A/N: a tilde (~) symbolizes a switch in whose point of view you\'re reading... and the switches are fairly obvious.

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

Platinum

The rain was falling hard and merciless in the city, pelting anybody who was brave enough to walk the streets and shimmering in the harsh light of the few streetlamps that weren\'t broken yet.

Milliardo coughed quietly into his sleeve, trying to muffle any noises he was making, avoiding discovery by any passers-by who less than respected him. Last time he was caught tricking, he had been taken down to the police station.

\"Fucking pigs,\" he growled under his breath, absently rubbing one of the angry bruises on his thigh that still hadn\'t faded. Those nightsticks stung when they struck bare skin.
~
Heero shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the cold. The frayed collar of his second hand jacket brushed his ear lobes as he stared impatiently out at the street, watching the glare in the road from another set of headlights.

This was the last time, he vowed, that he\'d rely on his roommate for a ride home from work. For all Heero knew, the guy was involved in a brawl or got picked up by the local authorities again.
~
Another car passed by. This time it slowed and almost stopped, and Milliardo stood there with a forced smile on his lips, the best \'come-hither\' expression he could muster while he was shivering and sore. The redhead within the car looked him over twice but sped off before Milliardo could open the car door, upon seeing somebody else approaching down the street. The snowy blonde cursed under his breath and squinted his eyes to see who was about to get on his bad side for scaring off his john.
~
Heero scowled at the passers-by, practically hating them for moving with purpose, for having a destination in mind. Whether his roommate picked him up or not, he had nowhere to go but the apartment. He couldn\'t even say he\'d ever considered it \"home\" - more like a temporary shelter or halfway house.

Halfway to where, he couldn\'t say.

Looking one more time down the road in hopes of seeing the misaligned headlights that would herald the approach of his ride, he muttered several colourful curses under his breath, and left the protection of the overhang.

The rain only increased his level of ire, and he strode purposefully toward the part of town where he\'d resided for the past few months. He stubbornly refused to move out of the way of approaching pedestrians, roughly knocking them to the side with his shoulders if they didn\'t provide a wide enough berth on their own.
~
His anger flared, then burnt out when Milliardo saw that it wasn\'t just any stranger, but the tall man whose every curve and gesture knew all too well. \"Trey,\" the blonde murmured quietly, avoiding eye contact. \"I can\'t go anywhere tonight, I\'m working.\" Would that faze the brunette from taking what he wanted? Of course not. Milliardo squeezed his eyes shut as Treize\'s hands came to a rest on the blonde\'s slender hips and he felt a soft kiss whisper across his neck.

Treize was many things...

The most gorgeous pimp in the city, the most influential, and also, the worst man to cross. \"You owe me three hundred,\" the brunette whispered softly into Milliardo\'s earlobe, biting it gently at first, and then to cause pain.

The blonde panicked, pulling away from Treize\'s grasp and stumbling back. \"I... I\'ll get it! I promise! Give me the rest of the night!\" he breathed urgently. Treize said nothing but instead reached out to grab Milliardo\'s arm-- two punishments in one night was too much! He turned on his heel and ran down the sidewalk as quickly as he could manage with a sore backside and legs. Looking back, he couldn\'t see Trey, and as he turned a corner, he collided with another smaller body, and they both fell to the ground.
~
\"Watch where the fuck you\'re going!\" Heero snarled at the man that had knocked him to the ground. As if his night hadn\'t already gotten off to a miserable start, he could feel the moisture seeping through his slacks - the only decent pair he had for work, and if they were hopelessly muddied, he could cheerfully rip off the head attached to the body pinning his to the ground.

Opening his mouth had been a mistake, as he managed to inhale a mouthful of pale coloured hair. He tried to shove the man off him, but realized that unless the weight pinning him down had any plans on helping, there was no safe place to put his hands.
~
Milliardo held a strangled whimper in his throat, forbidding it to leave his mouth no matter how much his body ached. He was on top of somebody... with short dark hair and light eyes. A tremor of fear sang through him for just a moment as he irrationally thought it was Treize he had collided with, but the voice that came from this body wasn\'t anything like Treize\'s.

The blonde sat up and scrambled off this new person, straightening his torn shirt and sopping-wet cut-offs, coughing as he did so and looking over his shoulder. Treize was approaching! \"Play along or I\'ll kill you,\" Milliardo hissed, grabbing the man on the sidewalk and pulling him up to a sitting position, pressing his mouth to the stranger\'s hurriedly.
~
Heero\'s eyes flew open in shock, not so much at the threat the stranger had thrown at him as the action that followed. His body seemed aware of everything at once...the rapidly spreading dampness from the puddle he was now sitting in, the long blond hair sticking to the sides of his face, the flickering yellow streetlight overhead - and the dry lips pressed to his own.

His hands fisted against the wet pavement. Two of his knuckles stung slightly and his own hair was dripping water into his face - and the face of the man who was currently molesting him.

Most of the people on the street stepped around them, too used to unusual activity to be bothered by the sight. The sickly yellow light above was blocked as a tall man stopped and looked down at them. Heero instinctively closed his eyes and tried to clear his throat, to alert the blond. What came out sounded too much like a strangled moan to his ears.
~
Treize was watching, from a distance. Milliardo opened his eyes for just a moment and saw that his act wasn\'t being bought. He had to make this look real... \"Let\'s go to your place where there\'s more privacy,\" he whispered seductively, just loud enough for Trey to hear, and then added in a hiss, \"Keep playing along.\"

For good measure, Milliardo tilted his head and slipped his tongue between the parted lips of the man who appeared to be trying to say something.

Treize watched the scene for a few more long and tense moments before grunting angrily and walking away. Milliardo waited until he couldn\'t hear footsteps any longer and finally pulled away from the young man, licking his lower lip. The smaller brunette wasn\'t too bad of a kisser when he actually responded.
~
Heero had never been this stunned in his life. His eyes had nearly snapped right back open when the tongue had snaked its way into his mouth and teased the roof of his mouth, tasting of blood and spice. A frisson of alarm ran through his body - exchange of bodily fluids among them, along with what the hell he\'d gotten himself mixed up in.

He forced himself to remain calm as the blonde’s tongue slicked against his own. He meant to push it out, but he was starkly aware that his hands, in an attempt at regaining purchase as his body leaned backwards, had rested on the thigh of the stranger currently kissing him. He could feel the cold wet flesh beneath his palm, the small goose bumps rough under his thumb.

What bothered Heero to no end was the fact that he\'d started to enjoy it - and then the blond pulled away.
~
Milliardo shivered and pulled his shirt back over his shoulder, looking once more just to make sure Treize was gone. He looked back at the man he had kissed... the man who he owed a lot to, now. A muttered \"Thanks,\" came from his lips as he stood and held his hand out to the brunette.

Now what was he supposed to do? He needed three hundred dollars by sunrise, and now he owed this stranger some form of gratitude as well. To put it simply, he was in a lot of shit.

He could always run away from this city-- hitchhike to another, and start tricking there. ...but that\'s how he had ended up under Trey\'s wing in the first place, running away from home... Milliardo clenched his jaw as he saw his options running thin. Treize was known for hunting down his runaways... what was the blonde supposed to do!
~
Heero grasped the hand extended to him and allowed the stranger to help him to his feet. He glanced down the street in the direction that the blond had looked. It just figured. His brows drew together and he took a deep breath. At least he knew why this man was dressed the way he was, and he\'d be willing to bet he knew exactly why a fleeting look of anxiety had crossed the blonde’s face.

He wiped at his mouth, eager to erase what had just happened, cursing his roommate to every ring of Hell for leaving him to walk home. He flicked his hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head and glared at the blond man. \"No problem,\" he said. \"Now if you\'ll excuse me...\"
~
Milliardo could always rob this guy, if last came to last. He\'d feel horrible about it, but he could. \"Can I... I mean, I know you have no idea who I am, but, do you have a place?\"
~
Heero\'s eyes narrowed at the bold question. He wasn\'t too fond at his attempt at dismissal being completely ignored, and he was not going to get involved. He wasn\'t. He\'d been burned too many times in the past, trying to do what he\'d felt was right. People didn\'t want to be helped - they wanted to help themselves to anything that appealed to them, sure, but in the end it came down to everyone was in it for themselves first and woe be those who thought different.
~
\"W-wait,\" Milliardo said it, then let it die in his throat. Wait for what? What was he going to ask of this guy? \'Will you give me three hundred dollars so I can continue to whore myself for another night?\' Fuck. \"Never mind.\" He shook his head, causing damp locks to slap against his exposed chest, and turned away, shoving his thumbs into the belt loops of his cut-offs habitually. Now what? How the hell was he going to make that money on one of the worst nights he\'d ever seen in this city?
~
Heero was angry with himself. Angry that he\'d allowed the man to kiss him, pissed that he\'d actually felt something from it, enraged that he not only responded, but had wanted more. Apparently it was going to cost him, this \"more\" - and he sure as hell had a lot more respect for himself than to pay for a cheap tumble. Hadn\'t he turned down his share of offers, offers that didn\'t involve a price tag?

He turned and walked away, and had taken all of three steps before he stopped. He looked up toward the heavens, letting the rain strike him mercilessly in the face, and knew he was going to regret this. \"I don\'t have any money,\" he said gruffly. \"You coming anyway?\"
~
The words were ignored at first, but as they registered in Milliardo\'s mind, he blinked in shock. That couldn\'t be directed his way. Could. Not. Nobody was that nice, especially in this place. He expected to see a mocking leer on the man\'s face when he looked over his shoulder at the brunette, but instead the man was avoiding eye contact and looked like he disbelieved his own words just as much as Milliardo.

Silently, the blonde waited. For the punch line to a cruel joke, for scornful laughter, for anything-- he had been offered kind things before, and every time it had been for alternate causes. Treize was a prime example. But, what choice did he have? He strode back to the brunette slowly, cautiously, and walked behind him like a stray dog.
~
Heero let out the breath he didn\'t know he\'d been holding when the stranger joined him. If he\'d regretted his words, it was too late to do anything about them now, because Heero was not one to go back on his promise. Not that he\'d promised anything, really, other than...what? He had precious little to offer, and if he had, he would have to be insane to offer it to someone he\'d just met.

He started walking home, hearing the soft splash of footsteps behind him, calling himself seven kinds of fool, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into. So much for his promise to stay uninvolved.

It wasn\'t exactly a short walk, but by the time he dug into his jacket pocket for the apartment key, he was no closer to understanding what had prompted his offer. His stepfather had been right about him after all. He was too impulsive by halves.
~
The walk seemed to take forever, even though it was only a few blocks. The silence between them made it longer-- Milliardo was used to at least making bargaining conversations with his company. One hundred for everything, fifty for everything but intercourse, twenty-five for just a show or role-play. That was easy enough to say... but what to say to this supposed temporary saviour?

He watched the man pull out keys to his place, and became envious. A house to live in, rather than huddled in a back alley, car, or the junkyard... sometimes, Treize\'s apartment. He wondered what this man lived like, something he had trained himself to stop doing after his first few tricks-- wondering what his johns did for a living led to questions that made money scarce... The brunette entered his dwelling, and though he hesitated for a moment, Milliardo followed, his heart thumping.
~
Heero jammed the key in angrily, disgusted with himself for not thinking his actions through, and struck dumb with the idea that he was ashamed of the apartment.

He was sure his \"companion\" had seen worse, and it wasn\'t as if Heero had any say in the appearance of the place. All his attempts at housekeeping were constantly undone. Heero wondered briefly whether he\'d find a mostly empty pizza box sitting on the floor of the living room that also served as his bedroom, or if this time it would be an assortment of sticky cartons from the unsavoury Chinese take-out place where he\'d had the misfortune of catching his roommate getting a hummer from the latest barfly he\'d picked up.

He glanced over his shoulder as he opened the door. \"You got a name?\" He frowned for a moment, recalling some of the women who frequented the backroom at the bar where he worked. \"Not a stage name, either,\" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head all the while and leading the way into the apartment.
~
Nobody knew his real name any more... then again, he was almost never asked his name. \"Zechs,\" Milliardo said softly, staring at the floor. Usually the first thing he was told was \'get on all fours\' or \'unzip my pants\'. He glanced around the place, trying not to look as though he was scouting for things to steal, and pulled his shirt off. \"In here?\" he asked quietly.

His fingers were resting on the button at the top of his cut-offs, waiting for the response. Sometimes they liked for him to play innocent, and this was usually the time they told him. If not, that was fine as well-- Milliardo wasn\'t much, but he knew how to do what was asked of him.
~
Heero wanted to close his eyes at the sight that greeted him. Dirty clothes half wedged under one of the couch cushions - nothing like knowing what acts had taken place right where he had to sleep at night. Three glasses half full of an amber coloured liquid were on the coffee table, a fourth one on its side, the golden coloured puddle next to it making Heero sick to his stomach. All that was missing was a big flashy neon sign that buzzed the word sex, misspelled deliberately with a couple of extra X\'s, to complete the picture.

Then the stranger spoke again, his voice much softer than it had been out on the street. Zechs. Sounded to Heero like a name he\'d created for plying his trade, something that was underlined by his query.

\"I told you I didn\'t have any money,\" Heero practically growled at him, \"so you can drop the act.\" He pointed to one of the open doors. \"Bathroom\'s there, no guarantee the towels are clean, but you\'re welcome to dry off.\" He refused to look at Zechs as he headed toward the kitchenette area. \"Don\'t waste your time,\" he added, \"there isn\'t anything worth stealing.\"

Part of him felt unfairly harsh at the words he flung out at his \"guest\" but he jerked open the refrigerator door instead of waiting for a response, pulling out half eaten meals gathering fuzz and dumping them into the garbage before he found something that looked like it wouldn\'t poison them both.
For some reason it seemed like perhaps he\'d be doing them both a favour if they did develop some sort of weird fatal affliction, but it would be a damn cowardly way to die.
~
Curt, and to the point-- this guy wanted Milliardo to beg for it? He wasn\'t able to read any signals from the brunette. So, taking advantage of the offer, he headed to the bathroom and looked around for anything resembling a towel, and found one stuffed behind the toilet. The blonde picked it up and noticed more than one white stain on the corner of it, but it was better than nothing. He attempted drying off his hair and chest with the cleaner half of the towel, then slid his cut-offs from his hips, completely exposing his backside to the open bathroom door as he dried his legs.

When he was reasonably damp rather than soaked, Milliardo looked in the cracked mirror. He looked like a drowned cat that hadn\'t slept for days. The blonde turned his eyes away quickly and put his hand on the mirror as though to smear out the image within it. He looked, quite plainly, like a whore.

Milliardo pursed his lips and wrapped the towel around his waist, picking up his wet clothes and draping them over the edge of the sink, which surprisingly seemed to be the cleanest thing in the whole room.

He stepped back into the living room slowly, watching his host move about the kitchen. Part of him wanted to taste the brunette\'s mouth again, even if it wasn\'t for money-- he had liked the almost innocent response the smaller man had given him on the street.
~
Heero practically twisted the knob off the stove as he turned on the burner, relieved to see the burst of blue flame that indicated that the gas hadn\'t yet been shut off. He had learned the hard way not to give the money to his roommate to pay the bills, although he sometimes thought maybe it would be for the best to get evicted.

He dumped everything into a large cast iron pan, and then opened up the cabinet under the sink and pulled the last two bottles of water out from behind the pipe. He set one down on the empty beer crate serving as a coffee table and kicked his shoes off, sending them both near the oft ignored doormat.

He padded back into the kitchen and shoved the meat and vegetables around with a cake turner, the only kitchen utensil that hadn\'t yet ended up in the bedroom for who knew what sort of alternate uses, and heard Zechs move out of the bathroom.

He glanced up and wished he hadn\'t when he saw the towel wrapped around his waist...knowing full well there was likely nothing on underneath it and again wondering why the hell that kiss had affected him so much.

It had been nothing like the few chaste kisses he\'d given the girl he\'d dated on and off in high school, nor the sloppy wet ones he\'d attempted when he dropped out of community college. And it sure was nothing like the eager kiss he\'d received from Jeff, one of his co-workers back when he\'d been working at the university\'s coffee shop.

He flipped the sizzling ground beef over and bit his lip, wondering what the hell he was going to say when the meal was cooked and he had no reason to stay hiding in the kitchen any longer.
~
The brunette was cooking something, and also making fleeting glances Milliardo\'s way. This he had seen before-- this was how most first-time johns acted. Unsure, sometimes frightened, sometimes too aggressive. The blonde wanted to initiate something between them, but it was rather obvious that this man wasn\'t anywhere near ready to be pounced upon.

It only made Milliardo want to kiss him more... and the blonde\'s cheeks flushed slightly as he felt himself at the beginnings of arousal. Damn his training, it was so easy to become fully roused now, and this was not the time to be hard. He sat down on a rickety chair and put his hands on his lap, looking down at the towel with determination, trying to think of things other than this brunette\'s mouth, his slick tongue, and the warm hands that had touched his skin... fuck! That wasn\'t helping!

Those cops that had pinned him to the interrogation room desk, yes, that made him scowl. The men that had burnt down his home and killed most of his family, that took some of the flame from Milliardo\'s cheeks. Too bad he looked up and his gaze caught the brunette\'s-- Milliardo was unable to look away.

That hint of sexual innocence and the taint of worldly weight; ignoring his rising lust-- among other things-- for this man was like wishing for money to rain from the sky. Not happening.
~
Heero froze, cake turner in hand, as he realized he\'d been caught sneaking glances in Zechs\' direction. He turned away, determined to avoid further contact until at least he\'d managed to avoid burning down the tenement due to his inattention.
~
When would the brunette sit down? Milliardo was getting antsy. Part of him wanted to leave before he did something he regretted, but a much more influential part of him wanted to let go of the towel and march into that kitchen...
~
Heero scraped the meat along the edges of the pan into the center and stirred it the best he could. What the hell was he doing, anyway? Trying to impress Zechs with his meagre cooking skills? One might think this was a date instead of - whatever the hell this was.

He turned off the burner and waited to be sure the flame completely died down - something he\'d learned to do the hard way, and pulled out a couple of mismatched plates from the cabinet. He dumped the contents of the pan out, trying to divvy it up the best he could, and pulled out a couple of forks, stolen from the diner his roommate had worked out for about three days. With the forks in his fist, he picked up a plate in each hand and took a deep breath, then marched into the living room, where Zechs was still sitting with that towel on.
~
He bit his tongue and simply stared at the brunette as he finally entered the living room. To Milliardo\'s surprise, there were two plates in hand-- this man intended to feed him? He blinked.
~
Heero wanted to tell him to close his damn legs, but that might imply that his gaze had wandered where it shouldn\'t. He managed to set one of the plates down without slamming it and let one of the forks drop next to it before he sat on the folding chair near the television stand. The television itself had long ago bit the dust, but Heero resolutely faced it nonetheless. He stabbed his own meal with his fork and paused, wanting to say something, but at a loss for what. He shook his head and took a bite of his meal. Eating gave him something to do, and a reason for not speaking. He took a second bite and chewed it slowly, swiping his tongue at the bit of grease on his lower lip threatening to dribble down his chin.

The touch of his tongue on his lip brought back the memory of Zechs\' licking his own lips after that kiss on the street, and Heero swallowed too soon, feeling the large lump of un-chewed food lodge in his throat. He coughed a bit, then set the plate on his lap and picked up the bottle of water he\'d originally set down for his guest, taking several deep swallows to assist the food in continuing its journey down his gullet. He set the bottle down and ignored the way his skin prickled as Zechs stared at him.
~
Milliardo picked at the food presented to him. He was definitely hungry, but he wasn\'t interested in the meal. Was the whole night going to be spent dancing around this? He put his fork down and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Frustrated, he decided to just do it... Milliardo got off the chair, crouched next to the brunette, and took away his plate of food and fork. He hesitated for just a heartbeat before leaning in and kissing the corner of the man\'s mouth, then pressed his lips firmly to the brunette\'s, tasting the meal he had cooked.
~



That\'s all for part one! Read and review if you\'d like; I\'ll reflect all feedback to Mookie as well.