* * * * * * * * * * *
"You got your work cut out for you with this one, Duo," grumbled the uniformed man. "Never seen such a cold one."
Duo swept into the room and sat on the edge of the man's desk. "You always say that, Greg. Then I break 'em, don't I? Have I ever failed you yet?"
The man answered without looking up, "Not yet. Get your ass off my desk."
"No confidence," Duo muttered, faking despondency. "I'm wounded."
"Yeah, yeah, just work your magic and make him talk." He slid a file across the desk at Duo.
Duo mock saluted and snapped, "Yessir!" before grabbing the file, whirling around and swaying out of the room, braid flying. Greg sighed and shook his head as the whirlwind that was Duo Maxwell, expert interrogator, slammed the door behind him. If the boy weren't so good at what he did, they would never put up with him. He knew he almost certainly wasn't old enough to hold a job such as this, and he was certainly unconventional in his methods, but if there was information to be gotten from a captured spy, Maxwell would get it.
Duo grabbed a cup of coffee as he went toward the initial interrogation room, wanting to get a look at his next victim, as he liked to think of them. Duo didn't get his crack at them until other, more conventional methods had failed, so Duo knew that by the time they got to him, they were usually ready to break or a really hard case. Duo liked to observe the captive for a while, in order to decide on a strategy.
Duo slipped into the room next to the interrogation room, which had a one-way mirror along one wall. He grabbed a chair, spun it around and straddled it, resting his chin on the back and taking in the scene before him.
The captured spy was tied to a chair, with what looked like 100 feet of ropes and chains. Duo wondered why. He didn't look very old; no older than Duo himself, in fact. And not much taller, if at all. But where Duo was slim and lithe, the spy was muscled and chiseled. Duo's eyes swept appreciatively over the captured spy's amazing body; he would have to watch himself if he didn't want to give away his preferences. It wouldn't be easy, though; the boy was gorgeous. Cobalt blue eyes blazed out of a finely sculpted face, framed by wild brown hair. He looked exotic and defiant, and Duo was definitely looking forward to this one.
Duo opened the file and scanned it; then he whistled and re-read it. The spy had not spoken a word since his capture, but he had put eight big men in the hospital. He had broken out of all the restraints they had tried, and withstood all the initial avenues of interrogation. The boy, for the more Duo looked at him, the more certain he was that the spy was just a boy, like him, had obviously been trained for the possibility of capture, because he looked no worse for wear.
Right now, two men were attempting to question the spy. Two men that Duo personally couldn't stand, big men who thought violence was the answer to everything and didn't like Duo's carefree attitude. They also couldn't stand the fact that Duo had many times succeeded where they had not.
Duo wrinkled his nose in disgust as the two men tried to intimidate the spy into talking, grabbing the boy by the shoulders and squeezing him. That had to hurt, but the spy showed no emotion. Duo was not a fan of violent persuasion. True, sometimes it worked, but Duo's methods were more... subtle. He liked to watch other interrogators, to decide on a method of questioning, but he couldn't watch this farce anymore. They were going to seriously injure the spy, then they wouldn't get any information. Duo decided to intervene.
Walking out of the room and slamming open the door to the next, he walked in just as one of the men was drawing back his fist in an apparent move to punch the spy.
"Ok, that's enough. You've done enough damage. I'm taking over." Duo strode to the center of the room, stopped and crossed his arms.
The men stopped what they were doing and glared at Duo. "We're not finished."
"Yes, you are. Get out." Duo outranked them, and they had no choice.
"Fine. You won't do any better." The men stormed out, slamming the door behind them.
When the men were gone, Duo finally allowed himself to look at the captive. He looked even better up close. He was staring to the side, not looking at Duo, so the braided boy allowed his eyes to travel over the spy's incredible body. But when he reached his face, Duo was startled to see intense cobalt eyes staring right back at him, unreadable. Then, very deliberately, the spy let his eyes travel over Duo, just as he had done to him. Against his will, Duo felt his body react to the presence of the boy.
Duo nearly shivered at the weight of those eyes. He knew what he must look like to this boy; chestnut braided hair down to his ass, clad entirely in black, huge violet eyes and much too young for this type of work. Duo was often underestimated; his slim frame hid wiry strength of body and will. Despite the spy's evident strength, he was still young and small and probably just as used to being underestimated; it was probably one of the things that made him a good infiltrator. Well, not good enough; he had gotten caught, and now it was up to Duo to find out his secrets.
Duo leaned against the table across from the captive, crossed his arms and studied the captive. The captive stared right back, impassive as ever.
"What, no thanks for saving you from the goons? How ungrateful," Duo began. The spy just looked at him, no reaction. "Well, my name is Duo Maxwell. What's yours?"
No answer, not that Duo had expected one. This was just preliminary, an opening volley. He went on. One of Duo's talents was the ability to talk on and on without requiring a response. It was said that sometimes Duo just talked prisoners into confessing; that they told their secrets just to make him shut up.
"Not a talker, huh? The strong, silent type. That's understandable, in your line of work. Anyway, you and I are going to get to know each other well." Duo got off the table, and walked closer to the captive; not too close, though. "Real well." With that, Duo turned and walked out, telling the guards posted outside the door to bring the spy to his own private interrogation room first thing tomorrow morning. Then they would begin.
He didn't turn around; didn't see the captive's eyes follow the braid intently as Duo went out.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Duo woke at 3am, sweaty and disoriented. He had been having a dream; a dream so intense and erotic he didn't want to wake up. In the dream, he had been tied to a bed by the captured spy. The boy was torturing him, but sexually. Cobalt eyes gazed up at him as the other boy kissed a trail down his trembling stomach, and Duo was helpless. The spy had just been ready to take Duo's aching arousal into his sensual mouth when... Duo woke up. He cursed his timing and tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but his erection wouldn't let him. His mind supplied images of the other boy, above him, on him, in him...Duo dozed off finally, and dreamed some more.
The other boy's face was above him as he drove his hardness deep into Duo, over and over again. The beautiful face twisted with passion as the other boy moaned and pounded into him. Duo awoke again as the alarm went off, twisted in the sheets, hand gripping his own arousal tightly, moaning with need.
Cursing his weakness, Duo disentangled himself from the sheets and tried to get himself under control. He had never been affected by someone like this before, never. Especially the enemy. He drew a deep shuddering breath as he resisted the urge to satisfy his ache; Duo had never pleasured himself, and he wasn't about to start now. But the image of the cobalt-eyed boy haunted him, as he stepped into the shower. How was he supposed to concentrate on questioning the spy when all he wanted to do was surrender to him? Maybe the feeling would fade... Duo tried to concentrate on getting ready for work.
He found himself agonizing over his choice of clothing, something he had never done before. Duo found he wanted to look good for the captive. Shaking his head at the absurdity of the whole situation, Duo nevertheless chose a snug pair of black jeans and a violet t-shirt that he knew complemented his eyes. Once again, Duo reflected happily that they had stopped trying to make him wear a uniform long ago.
Securing his hair in its customary braid, Duo checked his appearance in the mirror while berating himself for feeling this way. As he approached the interrogation room, Duo felt an unusual sensation. After a moment, he identified it as butterflies. He was actually nervous about seeing the spy! Shaking his head, Duo tried to get himself under control before he went in.
Opening the door, he saw the captive tied securely to a chair once again. This time, though, he had fresh bruises on his gorgeous face, and Duo's heart ached at the sight. Frowning, Duo entered the room, trying to get his body under control. His jeans were much too tight; the slightest arousal would be instantly visible. It wasn't easy, though. Despite the bruises, the spy looked as sexy as ever. Duo tried to put on his usual cheerful attitude.
"Gooooood morning! Remember me? Duo Maxwell, your friendly neighborhood interrogator. Miss me? Looks like you've been a bad boy since I last saw you!"
The captive merely looked impassively at the floor.
"Still not talking, huh? Well, that's ok." Duo suddenly had a thought. If he found the captive attractive, maybe he wasn't the only one. Duo felt an irrational flash of anger at the thought of anyone touching the boy. He would have to check on the surveillance tapes for the sleeping quarters.
Duo launched into the first of his strategies; for several days he tried different angles and methods. He was patient; he knew his methods had never failed, and truthfully, the longer it took, the longer he got to spend in the presence of the unconsciously sensual boy. Duo was starting to regret the fact that some time soon, the spy would go away. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but there was a good chance Duo was falling in love with the captive.
Duo's dreams grew more intense with every day spent with the spy. Duo looked forward to falling asleep. In his dreams, he could freely touch and be touched by the silent boy. But then he also looked forward to seeing him, though he couldn't touch him in real life. Well, he could, but Duo's methods were nonviolent, and usually didn't involve touching the prisoner. He was also being warned constantly about the prisoner's violent strength, and how many people he'd injured. In a way, however, this made Duo happy, because there was very little chance of someone trying to molest the boy if they were afraid of him.
Day after day, Duo questioned the captive, but nothing, not any of Duo's methods worked. If it weren't for the fact that Duo craved being near the boy, he would have been frustrated.
One day, Duo was getting a bit impatient; he couldn't even get the spy to look at him, let alone tell him anything. He spun around in frustration, his braid flying out behind him to catch on a protruding nail.
Duo snarled in annoyance as he tried to tug his hair free. Upon closer inspection, he could see that it wasn't his hair that was caught, but his hair tie. Tugging at it impatiently, the hair came loose, but the hair tie ripped in half. Duo cursed to himself as his hair began to unravel. Then he heard an almost silent intake of breath behind him. From the captive.
Duo surreptitiously peeked through his rapidly loosening hair at the other boy. The spy was gazing fixedly at Duo, thinking he couldn't see, and his mouth hung open just slightly. Duo nearly gasped as a pink tongue darted out to moisten perfect lips and those cobalt eyes darkened with... what?
Duo gave up trying to re-tie his hair; the hair tie was shredded too badly. Shaking his hair to cascade around him, he kept his back to the other boy as he considered this turn of events. He couldn't be sure, though. He had to test his theory.
Continued in part 2