(Gundam Wing Fanfiction) Sodium Pentothal

Sodium Pentothal

This is why sodium pentothal (truth serum) is bad for Heero.

Warnings: This story contains slash. That means sexual relations between two men. And in this case, R-rated relations featuring Heero/Duo. Don’t like? Don’t read.

Sodium Pentothal

He was careless and they captured him.  He managed to break one attacker’s jaw before they jammed a syringe into his arm.  He struck out blindly, clipping the man in the shoulder before he succumbed to the tranquilizers coursing through his system.

Heero Yuy blacked out like a light.

He woke up, arms cuffed behind his back through the metal spindles of the hard chair he was sitting on.  He was in a dark room with one bright light casting down on him directly overhead. An interrogation room.




Heero mulled over his intel as his body worked the rest of the drugs from his system.  He and Duo had been chasing down a band of terrorist targeting ex-military officers.  Their claim was that wars were started by people, and therefore tried to take out as many key figures from the war as they could.  Heero figured a Gundam pilot would be too juicy an opportunity to pass up, so he and Duo came up with a plan to bring them down, once and for all.  They spread some rumors, Heero would be the bait, Duo would follow, and together they’d bring down the bad guys.


But the terrorist cell managed to capture Heero before they were fully prepared.  Which meant Heero would have to wait until Duo realized he was missing before attempting a rescue.  That, and Duo would have to follow a trail quickly going cold, as Heero guessed he was out for a good hour—if not more.


Heero snorted in exacerbation.  He would have never been so carelessly distracted during the war. Only a few short months living in relative peace, and he allowed a bunch of amateurs to get the drop on him.  All because he happened to walk by a shop he thought Duo might like.  Stupid.


But this was not the time for self-recrimination.  He tested the handcuffs.  Standard issue.  It’d hurt to break them at this angle, but it was possible.  He was considering snapping them right then when the door to his cell opened and three figures walked in.


“He’s awake earlier than we expected him to be,” one figure remarked.


“It wasn’t exactly ideal circumstances when we grabbed him,” another said, standing to Heero’s right.  “Maybe he didn’t get all of the tranquilizer?”


“Doesn’t matter now,” the figure in the center—the last to speak, said.  He walked forward toward Heero, stopping just before the light revealed the main’s face.  “Tell us what you know about the Gundam pilots.”


Heero glared at the man and said nothing.


The man to his right kicked Heero savagely in the shin.  “Answer him!” he barked.  Heero kept his face completely calm. He hadn’t even flinched when the man kicked him.  The man tensed and backed away from the Japanese man, obviously unnerved by Heero’s lack of reaction.  Heero smirked back at him.


The man in the center gestured to the man on the left.  “There’s no need for violence.  You will cooperate.”  The man on the left came into Heero’s circle of light, brandishing a needle.  Heero eyed it.


“What is that,” he asked.


Luckily, the man indulged him.  “Sodium pentothal .  Truth serum,” he clarified.  “See?  Cooperation.”


Heero sighed.  This was going to get very ugly, very quickly.  He turned to the plain faced man sticking the needle in his vein.  “That’s not a good idea,” he warned him.  The man scoffed and pushed the plunger in.  That’s when Heero decided to break the handcuffs.




Heero had been missing for a little over three hours when Duo finally found the building where they were stashing him.  He managed to catch the trail several miles back, deep in the heart of the city, and followed it here to the warehouse district.  Not too creative, but then again, these are two-bit terrorists they were dealing with.  He just hoped that they hadn’t roughed Heero up too badly, or else there might not be much of them left to give to the proper authorities after the Japanese pilot got done with them.  Duo shrugged.  In any case, it got these whack jobs off the streets, he supposed.


He trotted forward to a door he deemed the best point of entry when it slammed open.  A body flew out of it and landed with a sickening thump on the pavement some three yards away.  Another guy was shoved out, and was starting to head back in when Heero stepped into view, fist flying.  The man facing the angered pilot went down with one solid punch to the nose.  Heero was yanked from behind, but he grabbed the attacker’s arm and flipped him over the shoulder to land on top of the other guy Heero just downed.


Then Heero started running toward Duo.  When he didn’t stop running, Duo took a few steps back and threw his hands in the air in a warding gesture.  “Woah, Heero, stop!  It’s me!”  Heero kept running, sweeping Duo with him, and roughly pushed him against the wall of a neighboring warehouse.  “Heero, what?” Duo gasped.


“Gotta burn it out,” Heero grunted, and pressed himself against Duo.


Duo tried shoving against the other man’s shoulders, but he was like solid stone.  “Burn what out?” he asked, and shuddered when Heero dragged his hands heavily up Duo’s sides, pulling up his shirt in the process.  “Heero, what?”  Duo tried again.


“They drugged me,” Heero said—no, more like panted.  “I have to burn it out of my system…” he groaned deep in his throat and buried his nose against Duo’s neck.  “You smell good.”  He started kissing his throat, dragging his lips and tongue from the juncture of Duo’s shoulder and neck all the way up to his ear.  Duo groaned and thrust his hips against Heero, sliding his hands from the man’s shoulders to clasp at his back.


Heero returned his thrust in spades, slamming Duo against the wall.  The friction was mind numbing and glorious, and Duo’s hands were pulling him closer and Heero’s were grabbing, bruising Duo’s hips to meet his at just the right angle.  They kissed and it was dirty, all tongue and saliva with no finesse, but it was hot, unbearably hot, and the heat was making them want to do stupid things.


Breaking away, Heero panted into Duo’s mouth, “I want to—“


“Yes,” Duo groaned, and latched his mouth to Heero’s once more.  Heero moved his hands from Duo’s sides to the front of the braided man’s pants and started undoing the belt buckle. Mouths still attached, Duo helped Heero unzip his pants and shimmied them down his hips, underwear and all, until his erection was bare to the evening wind.  Heero quickly undid his own pants, and once free of the constricting material, he pressed bodily against Duo once more.


Duo nearly yelled out loud at the sensaton of flesh meeting flesh.  It was so hot and so good and intense—and Heero barely gave him any time to feel before he was thrusting against Duo again, cocks lining up and sliding against one another.


Duo gasped for air while Heero attached the other side of his neck with his mouth.  “Oh god, oh god,” he could barely hear himself chanting over the din of this heartbeat.  The whole of his world was reduced down to heat and friction and ohmygod sogood—and it pooled between his legs and knotted up his stomach and he was seeing stars and everything was white, just for a second.


He came all over Heero’s shirt.


Heero grunted, just a moment or two after Duo was already coming down, and he too came with a sort of keening growl.  Duo felt the warm stickiness splash on his bare stomach where Heero had pulled up his shirt.


They clutched at each other and held on for several minutes, catching their breaths as the cool air dried the sweat and fluid on their bodies.  Finally, Duo had to repress a shiver.


“Man, I’m cold and sticky.”


Heero grunted something in the side of Duo’s neck that sounded an awful lot like “Sorry.”


Duo peeled the Japanese man away from him by the shoulders and looked at him in the eye.  “I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy this,” Duo started with an easy grin.  “But what the hell was that?”


Heero stared at Duo for a moment.  Duo waited, as patiently as he could.  Heero finally answered, “Sodium pentothal.”


Duo blinked.  “What?”


Heero shrugged.  He backed away from Duo’s grasp to dig into his back pocket for a handkerchief.  As he cleaned himself up, he continued.  “They injected me with sodium pentothal.”


Duo grabbed the cloth as soon as Heero was done and started wiping down his own stomach.  “Truth serum? How the hell does that explain the random fuck job?”


Heero crossed his arms and scuffed his toe, just slightly, in a fidgety manner.  If Duo didn’t know any better, he’d guess that Heero was embarrassed.


“I have an abnormal reaction to it.”


Duo stared hard at Heero.  Then he looked at the three unconscious—possibly dead men laying outside the warehouse door Heero had burst from not a quarter hour before.  Then he looked at himself, pants undone and cock hanging out.


“Truth serum,” he started slowly, “instead of making you relaxed and ready to spill secrets, it makes you ultra aggressive and very horny?”


Heero nodded.  “Yes.”




“Duo?” Heero questioned when the silence got too uncomfortable, even for him.


The braided pilot broke into a shit-eating grin.  “Hot damn! You should get drugged up more often!” he said and kissed Heero squarely on the lips.  “Now take me home and finish what you started.”


Heero grabbed Duo by the hand and started leading him away from the warehouse.  “Affirmative.”



By the way, I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of the characters. Koichi Tokita and Kodansha do.


Author: Eris O'Reilly

I'm a writer, artist, knitter, crocheter, cat wrangler, zombie hunter, and law enthusiast. Also, I am a complete and utter fangirl. I like silliness.

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