Title: Takeover
Author: Kiarene
Pairings: 1x5
Rating: R
Summary: AU. Corporate raider Heero Yuy has his sights on one Chang Wufei.

Published: 1st July 2004
Disclaimer: I so totally own them. Bwahaha.

Feedback: It keeps the boys panting.


A/N: A short chapter, but I thought it was a nice place to end. Wufei’s definitely warming up to Heero. Heero isn’t as in control as he thinks. And yeah, Heero has no morals. Heh. But he’s so obviously smitten by Wufei so I forgive him.



Takeover 5



I look down at the tent — *my* tent. I don't believe it. I've *never* slept in a tent before. And now I'm suppose to pitch my own tent??


The yellow — *yellow*! — synthetic fabric is carefully laid out and the aluminium poles are stacked neatly by my foot. I can see the narrow tunnels in nylon where the poles are obviously supposed to go through and the metal-reinforced holes for the ropes, but what are those open flaps for and...


"You have no idea how to set up a tent, do you?" Chang asks flatly. I turn to glare at him, noting with irritation that in the few minutes it took me to lay out my tent, he had *already* got his red tent up.


"I..." My voice trails off as I look down at the tent again. I didn’t even know I *had* a tent! When Chang asked me, I stupidly looked at the rear of my plane where the emergency supplies were packed. Damn. I should have said no and then Chang would have to share his tent with me.




If I admit I don't know how to set it up, he'll do it for me. But that's mortifying...


"God, Yuy! I can believe you had never set up a tent, but I can't believe you didn't ask me for help. Now watch!" Chang crouches down, taking one of the longer poles and threading it through the flaps.


I squat down sullenly beside him.


"'Do you know how to set up this type of tent?' I asked. 'No problem, Chang,' you said. Confidently I might add." Chang shakes his head as he deftly works the poles through.


"Well, it *looked* easy," I add defensively.


"It *is* easy," Chang drawls. Then he does something, pushing the poles up and together and suddenly the fabric tightens and the tent... springs up. I blink like an idiot.


"It's a pop-up tent. *Kids* can set this up," Chang throws me an amused look and I find myself flushing darkly. "Ok, now you do the flysheet. I’ll help you with the ropes after that."


"What's that?" I ask before I could catch myself.


Chang breaks out in a peal of laughter. "Oh man! You had never even gone camping before right? No wonder you looked so flummoxed when I announced that we were camping out. Were you expecting, perhaps, some five-star hotel?"


"Of course not!" I shot back weakly. Three-star maybe; I figured there wouldn't be a five-star hotel in this rural area, but...


Chang gives me a knowing look. "Right. Yuy, there's no hotel around here for miles! The nearest village is about seventy miles from here! When you bought this land, didn't you realized what the term 'nature reserve' means?"


"Uncivilized?" I joked with a sinking heart.


When we landed at the small airport — more like a flattened strip of land and a one-storey building with a phone and toilet beside it — Chang had called someone and a while later, a Chinese man came with a battered jeep. It turned out to be a rental service number. The man left the jeep with us and cycled back to …whereever his office is, if he *has* one.


I realized then that I was *perhaps* a little out of my depth here...


"That's so, so sad." Chang shakes in snickering laughter. His voice still rippling with suppressed amusment, he stands up, gathers the remaining piece of fabric — a thin sheet of nylon — and fastens it to the top of the tent. "Now this is called the flysheet. Its purpose is to keep the tent dry if it should rain..."




Chang, I'd decided some time back, is taking way too much enjoyment in my suffering. He *seems* moral and decent, with all his environmentalist attitude and nerdy glasses, but he can be really sadistic.


I stare morosely at my mess-tin, a rectangular aluminium pot I’d found in the same box of emergency supplies, in which I somehow managed to ruin my dinner.


"How can anyone ruin *instant noodles*?" Chang rolls his eyes and flips the omlette. Chang the oh-so-great backwoodsman, on the other hand, had cooked rice — rice! without a rice-cooker! — some creamy soup, an omlette with meat and onions, and some stir-fry dish. The delicious aromas wafts to me and my mouth waters.


"Shut up." I didn't think we'll be *cooking*! The couple of packets of instant noodles I brought were meant to be snacks if I should get hungry at night — all hotels rooms have a kettle. That, and a packet of chips. I'm going to *die* of *starvation* out here.


"I mean, it's *foolproof*! Just add hot water and the seasoning packets!"


And I won't be the only dead body. I'll take Chang down with me for making fun of me. I stab savagely at the congealed mess in my mess-tin. Stab, stab, stab. He's...




...an angel. I look up at him in surprise, hands automatically clutching the plate of rice.


"You're lucky I brought extra," Chang muttered as he sat down beside me. He cuts the omlette in two and places half on my plate. "But I think I have to go down town to get more food tommorrow."


"There's a town?" I reach hungrily for the stir-fry vegetables, trying not to sound too hopeful.


"There's a town. There's a grocery store, a post-office, a hair-salon even, but no hotel."


I would retort to his sly dig but my mouth is full of food.


"How's the food?" Chang asks absently as he stirs the soup. It's from a can, with minute bits of brown stuff that's supposed to be mushrooms. However, he somehow found some wild mushrooms and edible herbs, so right now, it looks really good. Large chunky pieces float in the soup and I can smell the musky scent of *real* mushroom soup.




Chang glances up at my purr and hungry stare at him, and casts his eyes back down again. His hand tightens slightly around the ladle in mild annoyance, like the warning flick of a feline ear.


"What?" I blink innocently. But I decide not to press my luck — since he's the chef — and turn my attention back to my dinner.




Chang had went down to the river to get some water and, for the oddest reason, told me to sit on the ground in front of our tents. “Relax and look at the sunset,” he said. “Enjoy it.”


I stare in puzzlement at the sun, now halfway past the horizon line. He obviously wanted me to see something; maybe there is a natural phenomenon when the sun sets in this part of the world? I squint a bit. Hm. The colors, pink and purple and orange, were interesting… sort of…


My cellphone rings and I immediately whip it out of my pocket in reflex. “Yuy.”


//Heero! I’m ba~ack!\\


“Back where?” I ask in confusion. Duo?


//Back in Sanc! How about dinner tonight? I feel like Italian—\\


“Sorry, I’m out of town,” I interrupt brusquely.


//Whoa. Rotten luck.\\


“Yeah.” *Not*, I think, and keep an eye out for Chang. “I’ll call you when I get back. Why don’t you go out with some other friends instead?”


//Ok.\\ Some smooching sounds and a low purr. Is that Chang heading back? //Hey, where are you now?\\


“China.” Damn; it is. “Sorry about this Duo, but I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when I get back.”




 I quickly flip my phone shut. Then I flip it open again and turn it off, and flip the cover close again. I most certainly do not need Duo calling *now*.


“Is that a business call?” Chang demands crossly and he puts the pails of water down.


I hold up my hands defensively. “I turned it off!”


“Good,” he says approvingly. “I think you work too hard, Yuy. You should learn to relax and take it easy.”


“What? Like pitching a tent and cooking dinner, inefficiently I might add, over a wood fire?” I snark back irritably.


“Yes!” He smiles angelically but the devlish gleam in his eyes warns me. “And now we shall wash dishes. It’s a very zen-like experience, like a cleansing of metaphoric dirt—“


“Lovely, I’m sure. In fact, far be it for me to lessen your zen-like experience…“


Chang leans in towards me, smirk widening and my voice falters. Damn! This is unfair — he *knows* how he affects me! Especially when he looks down at me through heavily-lidded bedroom eyes, and drawls in that smoky voice of his, “But we’ll wash the dishes later. Now, I want to look at the sunset.”




He sits down cross-legged beside me in a graceful motion, which again distracts me. Dressed in loose fatigues, a black tank-top and incongruous heavy boots, he’s been distracting me the whole day. Everytime he stretches or crouches down and the baggy fabric pulls taut over a firmly rounded ass or broad shoulders, hugging the contours of his thighs and knees; I swear I am *this* close to jumping him and…


“Stop staring at me Yuy and enjoy the sunset instead.” Chang’s tone is curt. He looks away, cheeks flushing and forehead furrowing.


“It’s just a sunset.” I raise a quizzical brow. “It happens everyday.”


“Mmm.” Chang closes his eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths. “I know.”


“So?” I watch him in fascination. Watching as he inhales and sighs, tension visibly bleeding from the hard lines of his shoulders and tightness around his eyes.


“Nothing. I just like it.” He gives a small smile, eyes opening in a half-lidded gaze. “It’s hard to watch a good sunset over Sanc. Too much smog in the air and too many buildings ruining the skyline.”


I turn my attention away reluctantly. “So. Do you find it different, as compared to a sunset over Sanc?”


“Do you?” A quiet murmur.


I stare hard at the pinks and purples, trying to see what Chang sees. The sky changes rapidly in a myriad of colors, the warm vermillion hues soon blurring into cooler violets.


“Maybe,” I whisper finally.







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