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"Anniversary"Written By: ELLE and Miss Murdered Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Gundam
Wing (unfortunately) and they were used without permission, but all
the words are my own. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: language, angst, sap, sexually explicit
situations, Pairings: 1x2x1 Summary: Set in the same universe as Forever. Heero and Duo celebrate their fifth anniversary together. Notes: Well, it was a year ago today that the
first PM was sent between us and a friendship that neither of us expected
started. So to celebrate our first "anniversary" we had
to write something so here is Heero and Duo celebrating theirs in
an appropriate fashion . ;-P
"Anniversary " Heero Unsurprisingly, we had never been that couple
– the ones with overt public displays of affection, gratuitous
gifts exchanged, reminders set counting down the day until our anniversary.
Sure, if he wanted to kiss me, he'd just fucking kiss me – though
generally that would be somewhere a little more private than the office
break room. And if I wanted to give him something, I'd just damn do
it – no reason to wait until any special day. So I'm sure he
thought I'd done all I intended to do today when I managed to convince
Une to allow him to take the sleek, shiny, new and experimental
guns on his next assignment despite her assertion that a more "orthodox"
agent might perform a better field test and went out of my way at
lunch to bring him back his favorite Chinese dumplings from a shop
over fifteen minutes away. But not this year. This year marked five years since
he first kissed me. That night had been weighing on my mind a lot
recently and the sentimental part of me couldn't let it go. Maybe
part of it was that he was working late, trying to prep for his next
assignment two days from now where I'd be left without him, I don't
know. But after I clocked out I picked up a bottle of cheap-ass whiskey
– one that didn't even come in glass, just shitty plastic –
and some cheap pre-packaged sandwiches and headed back to the office
to pick up Duo. "You want to get out of here?" I asked as
I leaned in the doorway, wondering if he remembered how he'd asked
me the same question five years ago when I was buried in paperwork.
But it was different because I was explaining the loss of two teammates
due to my inability to act. He looked up at me after glancing at the
clock a bit petulantly but when his eyes met mine he smiled. "Guess you'll be wanting your anniversary present
sometime today, eh?" he asked with a suggestive raise of one
eyebrow. He'd had to drag me away from that desk five years ago,
reluctant and depressed, riddled with guilt. I felt useless and ineffectual.
I had thought it would be okay. I had recovered physically, learned
that Mariemaia was alive, eventually got frustrated with traveling
and trying to find "myself" – a person I wasn't even
sure existed – and I thought I could join Preventer and be useful
to someone again. But then, when I actually got in the field... "We going somewhere?" Duo asked as he noted
the sandwiches stashed in the back and I gave a noncommittal grunt
before turning away from home. I guess he got that something was going
on in my head and he didn't ask any questions, just reached over the
back and grabbed one of the sandwiches, unwrapping it and taking a
generous bite. It was an hour and a half drive out of the city. I remembered
sitting in the beat up piece of junk Duo called a car five years ago,
glaring out the window, not even questioning where we were going because
fuck if it mattered. At some point I had come to the realization that
I would never be able to function in a post-war society, that I was
useless and ineffectual because I had let those men on my team die,
watched them bleed out because I couldn't fire my gun. I should've
been the one who'd died. I was no good to anyone. My thoughts had turned dark and I didn't want to be
there. I felt Duo was always dragging me around, forcing me to do
shit I didn't want to do, socialize when I'd rather sulk, unable to
understand at the time that he was just trying to help me the way
he wanted someone to help him. But all I had felt was irritation. Duo hit the radio and sang along with it the way he
had then. And he grinned at me, the way he had then, but there was
mischief in his eyes and I guessed he probably knew where we were
going. His hand found my thigh and slid up to my hip, fingers jabbing
to tickle me a little and my lips twitched upward despite my best
efforts to stop them and I shifted in the seat, trying to dislodge
them. "You shouldn't look so serious all the time, babe,
or your face will freeze like that," he joked with a smile he
reserved only for me. That smile still made my heart feel too constricted
in my chest and I couldn't help smiling back. When we got to our destination – a secluded hill
overlooking the lake, the stars magnificent so far away from the light
pollution of the city – we sat on the hood of the car, just like
we had then, and I brought out the cheap whiskey. I broke the seal
and took a swallow, the sharp taste infiltrating my senses, the burn
unpleasant as it slid down my throat and I tried not to cough as I
handed it to him. I stared up at the nearly full moon, noting the dim
specks of the L1 colony cluster, less reflective than the moon itself,
and I thought of L2 on the other side and it seemed poetic in some
way. That we had both fallen from space and landed here together.
But realistically it was just pure coincidence that we were both picked
for Operation Meteor and given any set of circumstances other than
the specific ones we'd undergone we would not be together at all. That didn't make what we had any less special to me
though – in fact, it seemed more so. More unlikely, more impossible.
More special. "You know, I brought you out here because the moon
always makes me think of you." He chuckled a little and thumbed
the mouth of the bottle with his free hand. "Kinda stupid. Guess
I thought... it would help." "You helped," I reassured him, squeezing his
hand a little, remembering what an asshole I had been at the time,
only concerned about getting too drunk to get back. But then I didn't
really care if the car crashed or whatever. At least that would be
it – I wouldn't have to figure out how to go on like this. I didn't even really remember what it was he'd said
to me back then. Something about the earth, the war, shit I didn't
really want to think about – shit that only made me feel worse
– so I ignored him. Watched him chug back the cheap ass bottle
of liquor he'd had stashed in the back seat like it was water. Duo laughed again and I lay my head on his, my nose
buried in his hair so I could breathe in the combination of sandalwood
and C4 that was uniquely Duo. "You know how much of this shit I had ta drink
to get the guts to kiss you?" he asked with a sly grin and I
sat up a little to get a better look at him. Duo sat up as well and
winked as he took a swallow, immediately grimacing on the burn and
coughing a little. "God this is shit." I touched his cheek then, fingers brushing away wisps
of hair caught in the wind and sliding into the base of his braid,
cradling his neck. Moonlight caught in his eyes so that they gleamed
and it wasn't much different than it was then – my heart still
pounded in my chest, my blood still felt like it was on fire, and
I still thought he was breath-taking in the starlight – except
this time I wasn't confused. I leaned forward and kissed him then, softly, closing
my eyes and opening my mouth to his warm tongue. And I knew him now.
Last time it was klutzy, a nervous, hesitant kind of kiss, pushed
on me by a very drunk Duo and I didn't understand very much. But within
our intermingled breathing he'd whispered that he'd missed me while
I was gone and I at least managed to get the fundamental message there,
the only thing that mattered – that there was someone who cared. I didn't really understand love or desire or any of
that, but I did understand one thing as he kissed me again, and again
– if I ever wanted to understand, if I ever wanted to be able
to reciprocate this kind of emotion, if I ever wanted to be able to
be a productive member of society I wasn't going to be able to do
it alone. I'd tried that – and clearly it wasn't working. I needed
help and silently I promised him I would get it. And as I kissed him now I made a similar promise. I
couldn't keep going on like this – jealous, possessive, so fucking
terrified of losing him. We might've had our shit together enough
not have had sex that night, falling asleep on top of each other innocently
enough in the back seat of the car, and it might've been nearly six
months of therapy before he kissed me again, but I had still come
to rely on him now in a way that wasn't healthy. For him, or for me.
And the more I tried to fix it, the deeper a hole I dug myself, until
the very thought of him leaving on this assignment Friday without
me to watch his back had terror clawing its way up my throat, threatening
full-fledged panic. "'Ro?" he whispered as our lips parted, eyes
studying mine closely, intensely. "You okay?" "Yeah – I just..." I cleared my throat
a little, choking down my fears to force myself back into this moment
– what was supposed to be a good moment. But I felt exposed and
vulnerable and I dropped my hand from his neck and my eyes to my knees. "Hey." Duo set down the bottle and grasped
my hands in his, holding them tight. "This was real sweet, you
know?" I nodded, but I couldn't trust my voice. "It's amazing to think how far we've come,"
he continued but I didn't feel like I'd come that far at all –
still requiring his validation to give me meaning. Duo leaned in a little closer, his nose bumping mine
so that I'd look up at him and meet his eyes once more. Which I did,
reluctantly, afraid he'd see too much. He'd always seemed to see right
through me. "I can't wait to see the next five years,"
he murmured and he kissed me then. And when our lips fell apart he
kissed me again.
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