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"Warheads"Written By: ExecutiveShrimp Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs
to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not
profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Post War, angst, fluff, psychological
issues, lemon Pairings: 2x1 Summary: Duo and Heero try to become more than
comrades in their attempt to be normal young men. They settle down
but find that peacetime is difficult to adjust to and with only each
other to rely on, it is a struggle, especially for Heero. " Warheads " Part XII - You don't want to know Our apartment reeked strongly of paint, it burned my nostrils as we stepped inside and contrasted the cool fresh air we had enjoyed outside, waiting by the door to our building after the taxi dropped us off. Before we came inside we had enjoyed powerful lungfuls of crisp air but as I stepped through the front door I felt the urge to hold my breath. When need for oxygen started to burn, I decided to breathe shallow. The thick scent of the paint heavied the air and made the environment almost toxic. In the humidity of the evening the paint had barely dried. The apartment felt stuffy in comparison to the outside world, instead of turning on the air-conditioning, I moved over to the bay window, leaving the living room engulfed in darkness and opened the window wide. Being on the third story I felt comfortable leaving the window open, even through the night. I checked back with Heero, he said he didn't mind either. I sat myself down on the window sill and watched Heero. He switched on the lights in the kitchen and moved out of my view. Seconds later I heard water running in a disrupted stream, he was probably washing the residue of his own blood off his face. When he appeared again his face was clean but wet, water dripped off his chin and soaking the front of his shirt. I watched, shamelessly mesmerized as his hands reached down for the hem of the T-shirt and lifted it, exposing his flat abdomen and defined chest as he used the fabric to dry off his face. There was still an ugly bruise on his body, proof that he was more fragile than we both liked to believe. The fall on the basketball court had left me unscathed, but then again, I did land on top and wasn't forced to take the brunt of someone else's weight. "Let's go to bed." He said and led the way. That instruction wasn't anywhere near to meaning what I hoped it someday would, but I followed him nevertheless. Heero and I got dressed side by side in front of our open closet, occasionally our elbows bumped and our hands met as we reached for clothes. I waited for Heero to lie down in bed and get settled before I approached him. His eyes haunted me as I leaned in and I closed my eyes to ignore the lack of passion and pleasure on his behalf as I locked our lips in an innocent kiss. A mere matter of pressing our mouths together, but Heero - consciously or unconsciously - coaxed more action out of me as he started to move his lips against mine, actively engaging in a serious kiss. We seemed to become desperate for each other. I licked his lower lip upon which he parted his lips to grant me access. For the first time our kiss deepened and Heero responded favorably to my teasing. Even though his inexperience showed, my heart burst with happiness and my whole body enjoyed a wide variety of sensations. Unfortunately my lungs quickly started to crave oxygen again and even though that craving could not match the intensity with which my heart yearned to disappear within him, primal instinct to survive overrode all other brain functions and with a now-or-never jerk of my head I separated us. I smirked when he raised his head off the pillow, his lips searching for mine. Tendons standing out in his slim neck as he lifted his head. His eyes were still closed, but they fluttered open quickly when he became aware of the vulnerability he had exposed. He lowered himself back, his dark hair fanning out over the light pillowcase. He glared up at me, his eyes like daggers, stabbing with blades forged of blame. I could see the accusation in his eyes: Look at what you have reduced me to! Look how weak you have made me. That wasn't Heero, that was the soldier. I knew a second kiss would not be answered kindly, so I straightened myself up and left for my own bed. Once I was snuggled in deep under the covers I reached for the light switch with one arm and with a practiced flick of my hand, the lights went off. My heart beat more wildly with every seconds the darkness remained a silent void. For the first time since he started, he didn't say that he loved me. I wondered what I had done wrong. It had been an intense day so I managed to find some sleep. I was surprised that the room was basked in sunlight the next time I opened my eyes, it felt like I had just closed them, fighting back childish tears that I could not identify with, but plagued me either way. I quietly got out of bed and dressed in the same clothes I had worn the day before, wincing at every rustle of fabric that seemed so rude and loud in the early morning quiet. I stood at the foot of Heero's bed, leaning against the closet so I could look at his face. I frowned. He looked... peaceful. An innocence had come over him that I never knew him to express during waking hours. What are you dreaming about? I asked myself. I didn't want to risk waking him so I cut the moment short and went into the living room. I immediately noticed the bay window had been closed. I could only sigh and store the feelings for later contemplation. I didn't want to pity Heero because he would resent me for it, but it was fast coming to that. And right on the heels of that was pity for myself. Poor Duo who had to fall in love with a twisted product of modern warfare. But I shouldn't allow myself to think like that. I nodded determinedly. I was just as wrangled and beaten up as he was, right? That likeness, after all, is what I attributed responsible for a mutual trust we had shared since we first met. I smiled at a memory that seemed to belong to a different lifetime, or a different life altogether. Well, I admitted to myself with a grin, hearing a gun fire twice in the back of my head, maybe not since we first met. Maybe since the second time. I stepped outside and the heat whipped around my ears, a red, hot blush crept to my cheeks and even at my relaxed pace, I started to sweat. I really didn't care for the hot, humid summers of Florida. The atmosphere felt confining and suffocating. I was handed two bagels with usual enthusiasm and made my sloth-slow way back home. I opened the front door to the sound of running water. Heero was already out of bed to catch up on the shower that he had skipped last night. I leisurely prepared breakfast, maybe hoping that he would walk in and see me and perhaps thank me for my efforts. I had a distinct feeling, though, that I had already cashed in on merry progress and should not expect him to quickly respond to the next push. But there was no reason not to consistently apply pressure to his back in hopes of inching him forward. "Good morning." I said lightly when he exited the bedroom. He was dressed in his uniform, just finishing with his tie, looking very formal and official, but his damp hair, darkened and weighed down by water fell haphazardly around his chagrin face. A curt nod was al I was going to get that morning. I pushed the plate with his bagel his bagel. He started eating quietly, taking it in his hand along with him to the coffee machine. As always, I watched him, reminiscing. When he first brought home the newly issues Preventer uniforms, the day before he would start his nine-to-five, I was appalled. The black slacks passed with their simplicity, but had to be taken in to fit his narrow waist. It was comical the first two weeks, watching him constantly hoist up his poorly fitting pants. Luckily the length did not need to be altered, though short overall, Heero's impressive, long legs, that I ascribed to genetic manipulation, had a sufficient length to reach through the pipes perfectly. No, I had no trouble with the pants. I had difficulty with the button-shirt. And intense shade of moss green, combined with a tie of the same color - moss green on moss green. I joked that they had tied plain white button-ups and ties in a bucket of an interesting concoction of snot and other namely unhygienic bodily fluids. Heero, of course, never once laughed. Neither did I after first saw him wear it. back than the pants were still loose but a tight belt held them up and accentuated his slim built. Ever since that first time there has been a certain desire to touch the shirt and feel his skin underneath the cheap fabric of the button-up. I couldn't explain it. "Long day today?" I asked, pulling myself out of my increasingly sexual musings. I had my back turned towards him so I didn't catch any facial expressions or body language, so I was left in the dark when he didn't answer me, seemingly ignoring me. I turned around, leaning against the dinner table, watching him critically with my arms crossed before my chest. Only a questioning flick of his left eyebrow as he looked at me sideways, more interested in the cup of coffee he had to his lips. "Nothing." I lied, intently studying him. He finished his bagel and threw the last of his coffee down the sink. We made eye contact for a moment and it was his way of saying goodbye. I watched him go out the front door. The door fell shut and I felt like it sliced a piece of loneliness out of the narrow hallway and pushed it inside for me to deal with. I don't know how long I stood there, gazing longingly at the door, whishing he would come back in. It was a Saturday after all. But he didn't come back. I occupied myself with moving the furniture back into the office. The walls were perfectly even, Heero would be pleased, but I just felt powerless. Heero liked his walls to be even and, I realized, carrying a desk lamp to it's designated spot, I was uneven. I was discolored, blotchy and an insult to the décor. I was as he was and he hated that about himself, so why wouldn't he hate it in me? "Be gone, depressive thoughts!" I ordered, snickering at myself, but feeling sad regardless. After I had furbished the office I used the space for homework, even though we weren;t given any assignments during the week off. I worked several weeks ahead, drowing myself in work, giving myself a purpose in hope that time would move faster if I just worked my brain tirelessly enough. But time crept by agonizingly slow, pacing itself and sticking it's tongue out at me. The last forty minutes I wasn't even working, just staring at the open Geography book, reliving last night but not experiencing the same joy as I had at that moment, tearing it apart in search of meaning, in search of reason. Wishing to extract a premise of that evening that I could replicate with the same heartening result: a smiling Heero Yuy. I jumped at a shrill beep coming from the intercom. Cautiously I approached the machine attached to the wall, suspiciously gazing at it when it produced yet another alien sound. I took hold of the phone and asked: "Who's this?" "Ya always answer yer phone like that, Maxwell?" The Southern girl at the front door whined. "What are you doing here, Sookie?" "Lemme in, will ya, it's damn hot out here. Crank up the AC." "Y-yes ma'am." I hung the phone back on the receiver and went downstairs to let her in. When she saw me her face cracked into a smile. "Hey." "Hey." I copied, letting her pass me as I held the heavy door open for her. "So...?" "I thought I'd take matters into my own hand, seeing as ya suspiciously postpone inviting me here." She stomped over to the elevator and impatiently pressed the UP button, again and again. "We could take the stairs." I offered at her obsessive pressing of the button. She quirked an eyebrow at me. "Yer kiddin' right? It's like a thousand degrees out there." "Well, you're off by about nine hundred and two degrees, but..." My words died out and we waited for the elevator in silence. Sookie walked in before the doors had even fully opened, urging me inside as well. "Which floor?" "Third." She pressed 3 and the elevator jerked into motion. "It's a nice building." She said idly, looking at her own distorted reflection in the stainless steel doors. My equally disfigured form next to hers. "Yeah, I suppose..." When the elevator doors opened on the third floor I stepped out first and guided us to the door to Heero's and my apartment. Behind me she seemed giddy with excitement. She probably thought she would gain an infinite amount of insight by entering my home, but honestly it was as personal as a page in an IKEA catalogue. The door was open and I remained in the hallway, looking over my shoulder at Sookie as she looked past me, taking it all in. Disappointment slowly formed on his face in the shape of a delicate frown and tightly pressed shut lips. "Come on in." Together we walked inside but then halted in the middle of the living room. She kept looking around herself with hopes of spotting something significant. I was sure she wouldn't until her eyes fell pointedly on the two twin bolt on the dresser against the back wall of the living room, beautifully drenched in warm sunlight coming through the bay window. One bolt - my bolt - glistened in the rays, the other - Heero's - looked dull and the sun did nothing for it, other than enhance it's deep flaws. "What's that?" She walked over in long strides and with eager, greedy hands she plucked the clean, undamaged bolt off the dresser. "Oh, heavy!" She commented, expecting it to be steel when she picked it up, but Gundanium is almost three times as heavy. She touched the smooth surface and then rolled it into her left hand and with the right she lifted Heero's off the dresser. She stroked the damaged surface with the sensitive pad of her thumb, leaving her fingerprints all over it as her fingers searched for answers her eyes could not find. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt uncomfortable with her touching them, especially Heero's. I felt as though she was invading in a space that was supposed to be only mine, sharing in a secret that was not meant for her ears. "Why do ya have two? What happened to this one? What are they anyway?" I answered only her last question. "Bolts." She turned around and granted me the "duh"-eye-roll. "I know what a bolt looks like Maxwell, I used to help my father fixing the tractor and the combine." Her eyes became mischievous, "how in the world did they not figure I'ma lessie." She shook her head at her musing and then circled back on topic: "Where are they from?" "A mobile suit." Her eyes started to sparkle. "Really? That is so awesome! You found them after a battle or something?" I sighed and left for the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?" I called. "Ice tea please!" I frowned at the contents of our refrigerator. "What about orange juice?" I couldn't offer her a beer. "That's perfect!" I poured two glasses of orange juice, threw the carton in the recycle bin and then penned a sloppy "O.J." on a note stuck to the door of the refrigerator. I placed her glass on the coffee table, as she still had her hands full with the two bolts. I sipped at my drink gingerly, deciding what would be too much to tell her and what would be too little. Realizing that even the smallest detail would be too much, raise too many questions, but knowing less than the smallest detail would not be enough to maintain our friendship. I understood her curiosity and her need to know me better, I felt no resentment or blame, but honestly I wish she would turn and look the other way, even though that was unrealistic of me to require of her. "So where did ya get 'em?" "It's a long story." "I love long stories." "I don't." My voice was like nails dragging down a chalkboard, effectively having the same repulsive reaction with Sookie, her smile disappeared and she guiltily stared at the bolts in her hand. "Why is one damaged and the other isn't?" She answered, her voice as meek as I had ever heard it. Her girly fragility softened my gritty attitude, I answered, forlorn: "I wish I knew..." She nodded, as though she understood and placed them back exactly how she found them. "Do ya mind if I look around?" "Like I could stop you." I joked, offering her a genuine smile to ease the tension. "Ya couldn't." She retorted with a grin and started stalking around the living room, taking her time to examine every empty shelf. She stopped at the casing of a rented DVD on the TV furniture. She picked it up and read off the cover: "James Bond?" "Yeah, you know it?" "No." She said with a chuckle. "It's about a spy." I bit my lip. Even the smallest detail... "Oh." She put it back and continued her tour, stopping in front of the office and gazing inside lengthily and then moving on to the doorway to the bedroom, her arms held behind her back like she was a drill sergeant doing rounds. She stilled at our bedroom. "You guys share a bedroom?" "Yeah." "Already?" "We always have." "Hmmm." She came back into the living room, sat herself down on the couch and picked of her glass of orange juice, sipping innocently. "What? Is that weird?" I asked, concerned. She looked at me over the top of her glass with merry eyes. She took the glass away from her lips to expose a sympathetic smile. "Yeah. A little." "Well, it's a little unconventional but-" "Duo. It's weird." "Oh." I guess I always knew that to some extent, but even though it was apparently considered "weird" - synonym to "abnormal" - it falls into the exclusive category of things in my life that made sense to me and made me feel alright and safe. Made me feel normal. So society would have to stretch her bounds to accommodate these sleeping arrangements because I wasn't going to change it. I knew I would feel lonely without him and I had the hope he would be lonely without me too. I didn't know much, but what I did know was that I would never love someone the way I loved Heero. Whether that be good or bad. What we have saved me during the war and it saved me a little everyday. I should probably tell him that. "'Not to say I don't like the surprise but," I started, biting my lip with brief hesitation, "what are you doing here?" Sookie finished her orange juice but held the glass cupped between her two palms. She looked down at the carpet, which I knew not to be very enthralling, but she kept her eyes on the weave as she said: "To apologize." "For last night?" I was surprised, she hadn't made any indication before that she felt sorry about what happened. She was the one to set me up after all. She looked up, her eyes were honest and troubled. "I really thought ya would wanna be there. I didn't think Heero would get in a fight with Hunter- Is he alright by the way?" She added with hurried words. I smiled reassuringly at her. "He's fine. Believe me, Hunter is the one you should be sorry for." She grinned at the memory. "He immediately doubled over." She tried but could not contain her slightly sadistic pleasure at the other boy's pain. "His fist is like a chainsaw to the trunk of the tree." "Isn't he supposed to be like a techie though? Where did he learn to fight like that?" "Well..." Damn, I thought, she had me in a corner. "You know, he grew up in a dangerous neighborhood." Not a far stretch from reality, I noted. Sookie frowned. "Didn't you say he's from L1?" "L1 has dangerous neighborhoods too." I snapped. She quit her questioning at my tone of voice. I apologized for my attitude but that only fuelled her courage to question me further. She started blabbering: "And how did ya guys meet? It doesn't make any sense. Ya say yer from L2 and Heero's from L1 and I know passenger transport between L1 and L2 is heavily restricted, so did ya meet on earth? But you said that you came to earth like three month ago and you were already living with Heero by than and ya said ya were friend for a long time, but three months isn't a long time..." She continued on, exposing - consciously or unconsciously - all the inconsistencies in the lies I had fed her. But the truth I couldn't tell her. It shamed me to admit it, but I didn't trust her enough to tell her. It sounded so stupid, she was just a high school kid, trying to be my friend, trying to understand me and get to know me. If anything, she should not trust me, I was the strange boy from L2 with conflicting background stories who is in fact a former terrorist. But I was scared of her blabbering mouth, the way G admitted to being scared of my blabbering mouth. "With all the words you say boy," he used to say to me, looking down at me on the floor where I lay after he hit me till I couldn't stand any longer, "something is going to spill out that should not be said." And with every following whip of his belt, leaving welts on my back, he would hiss at me: "Secrets!" Secrets. Secrets. Secrets. I couldn't stand them, but could not let go of them either. Maybe because it wasn't just me that depended on these secrets. Heero trusted me to keep them as well. And the paparazzi was out to get us, as were the anti-Gundam activists. "It's none of your business." As an afterthought I added untruthfully: "It's nothing important." She looked at me for a long time, her eyes slowly narrowed and her face looked disappointed. "Yer lying to me." She stated. I didn't say anything. Afraid that more lies would spill out. Or rather, the truth. "How can we be friends if I don't know anything about you?" How can we be friends once you do know? Believe me, you don't want to know! She's a sweet girl from the South. I'm a terrorist from outer space. She would not understand. She would be scared. Terrorist has a - deservingly - bad connotation: a rebel, a killer. Who would want to befriend someone like that? "I think you should go." "Duo! Ya can tell me! Whatever it is... it won't-" She stopped herself. She must have realized she was about to lie. The gravity of "whatever" might be started to dawn on her. She might have been thinking things not nearly as bad as what I actually did, or maybe she was thinking worse. I didn't know, but she appeared in a state of shock and confusion and she stumbled to connect the dots. While she was lost in her own thoughts I guided her to her feet and by applying pressure to her shoulders, gently directed her towards the front door, repeating over and over again: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Once I had her in the hallway, her gaze met mine and they glistened with tears at the possibilities. I'm from L2. I quit school for the war. Maybe she had seen the OZ broadcast of my capture. I didn't know how much she knew, but whatever she knew, I asked her not to tell anyone. No, I begged her. As I closed the door in front of her, I saw her nod. She promised me, she would not tell and as sympathy started to touch her face, I broke into tears, right after the door fell shut. I hated myself. I absolutely hated myself and I wished against common knowledge that events of the past could be undone. I cried the whole day. Darkness enveloped the apartment. I was surprised at the amount of emotion that came out of me with the taste of bitter tears. The faces of every person whose life I had taken flashed before me and I mourned their deaths. I had been so preoccupied with Heero, that I didn't even realize. I prayed, for the first time in years, for all the survivors of the war and asked God to apologize on my behalf to everyone I had wronged, even though I didn't think I could still believe in God. Then I cried some more. I silenced myself when the front door opened, many hours later. From my seat on the couch, I watched the door swing open and a dim light of the hallway cast an elongated shadow into the room. I couldn't see Heero's eyes but I knew they fell on me instantly, effortlessly pinpointing me in the dark. I let the tears flow quietly, unable to stop them. Heero seemed confused and didn't move. "Heero?" My voice was hoarse and cracked and it embarrassed me. He closed the door behind him but remained where he was, staring at me, his shoulders drawn up slightly with tension and uncertainty. "Come here?" I asked softly. Intently not making it sound like a command, to leave him the freedom of choice. He took several moments to think, to estimate what was expected of him. I could see the hesitation in his movements and was certain he would stiffly walk away and go to the office to lock the door between himself and the situation. Suddenly, he took a step. Towards me. At the second step his hands where at the sides of his jackets, pulling it off his shoulders. At the fourth step he discarded his jacket on a nearby lounge chair. With the fifth step he had reached me, standing by an empty spot on the couch next to me. Two whole seconds were wasted with careful consideration, then he finally lowered himself onto the couch, so close our thighs touched. I smiled at him through the tears and then wrapped my arms around him in a tight embrace. Heero did not hug me back, but he did rest his head on my shoulder and let out a sigh that seemed to deflate him. Previous tension vacated his body and he heavily leaned into me. We sat together. Hugging. Two lost figures. In his ear I whispered about Sookie's short visit and told him everything that she had said and what she had demanded to know, what I wished I could tell her, but what I knew I couldn't. I told him that I did not have faith in a lasting friendship, once she knew. At the end of my sniffling monologue, I tightened the embrace and said: "I'm glad I have you." Heero didn't say anything, but let me hug him as long as I needed to. When I finally broke the embrace with a sheepish chuckle I noticed the confusion evident in his eyes, in which two moons shone as eerie twins of light in the dark. To ease his mind I thanked him for being my friend. He cast his glance down. The carpet seemed to have been fascinating that day. "Let's go to bed." We dressed side by side in front of the open closet again. Heero postponed his shower till the morning. I liked to think he did that for me, because he knew I needed him. That he understood our closeness would save me. The closer he was to me, the further I was distanced from a dark, bottomless pit of self loathing. I wondered if my closeness rescued him - in turn - of a similar demise. I wondered who Quatre, Trowa and WuFei had to rescue them. We each closed one of the twin doors of the closet simultaneously and walked over to our beds. Heero still hadn't said a word and I worried I had frightened him with my unusual behavior. Heero's grasp on understanding me was fumbling and weak to say the least. And I could offer him no resolve. I didn't want to order him around and even if I did, I didn't know how to direct him. It was like the blind leading the blind. Heero switched off the light, bringing us back into darkness. He said it again, "I love you.", but his words were more confused and hesitant than ever. "I love you too." I whispered back. On my back, staring at the ceiling, I heard his sheets rustle as he turned away from me in bed, readying himself for sleep. My stomach felt empty, I hadn't had dinner, neither had Heero, but of the primal needs I felt sleep had priority. However, some hours later, I woke up to the rumbling and growling of my own stomach. It sounded like an animal, starving for food, making alien calls. Before the whining and the other weird noises would disturb Heero's sleep I quickly got out of bed and tip-toed out of the bedroom. I squinted my eyes at the bright light pouring in from the kitchen. I recognized the sound of the refrigerator closing and I smiled, maybe it hadn't been my own hunger after all to wake me up. Maybe it had been someone else's. I quietly rounded the corner into the kitchen and looked at Heero for a second or two, standing at the sink, with his back turned towards me, his hands moving over the counter, I didn't see what he was preparing. Finallly, I made my presence known with a short "Hi." Heero jumped and twisted his body around, his piercing eyes relaxed when they took sight of me and he lowered the blunt knife held in his right hand. I chuckled, it was almost a laugh. He just looked so adorable when the soldiers face contorted with realization and then embarrassment. "What are you making?" I went to stand beside him and saw he was working on a simple sandwich. The knife he held was coated generously with peanut butter. "You like it?" He turned back to his plate and started to smear the peanut butter onto the two slices of bread he had before him. "It was all we had." "We have cheese." I offered, I always made sure we had a supply of slices of cheese for his breakfast. "I don't like cheese." His confession startled me. "But, you always had cheese on your bread during the war. And why didn't you say anything the last few months?" "During the war it had nutritional value. The last few months..." He stopped himself, focusing on the task at hand, evenly spreading the peanut butter on the slices of bread. I laid a hand on his shoulder in hopes of encouraging him. "I didn't want to be ungrateful." I was dumbstruck. At my flabbergasted silence he continued: "You make an effort to make me breakfast every morning. I didn't want you to think I didn't appreciate that." My mouth was open but no words came out. In the end, I smiled. Heero frowned at me. "Well then, let's see if you do like peanut butter." I brought the blunt knife to his face, my hand covering his on the handle. "You have to try it like this." I leaned in and licked clean the side of the blade that was facing me, with one swipe of my tongue. His frown deepened, but his curiosity was piqued. As always motivated to do what was normal, he slowly brought his face closer to the knife and then cautiously licked the tip. I realized I wanted to kiss him badly, introduce him to the taste of peanut butter differently, but I refrained myself. I watched him assess the taste carefully and I urged him to be honest. "It's good." He eventually concluded. I let go of his hand and reached for two slices of bread for myself, dragging a large plate off a shelf. When I turned back I caught him in the process of licking the knife clean. Sometimes it was easy to forget we were just teens, with all the grown-up shit we have been exposed to. We had to remind ourselves more often. "Like?" I asked teasingly. Heero nodded. "Yes." He sounded surprised at his own answer. We took our plates to the living room and sat ourselves down on the couch for some midnight television. I stopped changing channels when I encountered a rerun of a popular comedy series; lighthearted entertainment suitable for two sixteen year old. Heero sat cross-legged on the couch, the plate resting his lap. With his hands he absentmindedly worked to tear off bite-sized pieces and bring them to his mouth. He was so cute and he didn't even know it. Looking at him a smile touched my lips and I forgot about the drama of the day, enjoying the sight of my friend as he enjoyed his first peanut butter sandwich. During the commercial I nearly choked on a mouthful of crust as erotic ads of scarcely clad women from all ages and ethnicities flashed provocatively on the screen. Hot Asian Pussy. Mature Women. Horny College Girls. Hot L1 housewives. Voluptuous woman hungry for big, black dick! I glanced sideways at Heero and burst into laughter. The motion of his hands had stilled. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes wide open and one eyebrow raised. Apparently the soldier was too exhausted to stop the shock from showing and had tucked in for the night. Continuing to laugh I leaned over and wrapped one hand around his neck, pulling him close so I could plant a loving peck on his cheek. Heero composed himself and fixated his gaze on the television, pretending not be bothered or confused by what he saw, but I knew him well enough to be able to tell. The minute twitches of the corner of his eyes, his upper lip and left eyebrow betrayed disgust, bewilderment and an embarrassed curiosity. He stated with brave hope: "That can't be normal." I shrugged and watched as the commercials reeled on, noting how most women actually weren't all that attractive in the face, but I supposed I was the only one who would notice their faces when their breasts had seemingly erupted out of their bra's and their lacy underwear was around their ankles. I wasn't really the target audience anyhow. "Depends on your definition of normal." He faced me, actually leaning in closer, obviously intrigued, eager to learn about the concept of normality. He sported that curious frown. He didn't need to ask anything, I could see the questions in his eyes. "Well, you can interpret "normal" as something that is commonly accepted in a society, or you can interpret "normal" as something that everybody does, but is not necessarily accepted. For example, what these ladies do is fairly normal considering most people do something sexy and risqué in relation to their sex life, but it is not normal in the sense that it is commonly accepted by society. That girl," I squinted to read her name, "uh, Sugarly, doesn't go home and tell her grandmother about her day at work. Because other people would frown upon it." He nodded and then came the imminent question: "Which kind of normal is the right kind of normal?" I didn't know how to answer that, being a novice in regard to normality myself. "I don't know. I guess the one that is right at that moment." "How will you know?" "You don't. Most of the time you only find out after the fact if something was the right thing to do or not." He seemed deeply troubled by this notion. "That sounds hazardous." I smiled at him. "Maybe not hazardous, but not easy either. You're not going to get killed if you don't do the right thing, or the normal thing, it's just something you have to get through and make peace with for yourself." "Forgive yourself?" "Yes." "Even if you failed the mission?" I shook my head "They aren't missions Heero, but if you want to see it like that than yeah, even if you failed the "mission"." He sat back, his curiosity satisfied. He mindlessly fingered the remaining bread on the plate but did not take another bite. I guessed the information had caused quite a lump in his throat and now a part of him regretted ever asking, because the answer was not one he approved of. He had rather not known. Failing the mission was a terrifying thought for him to consider. Unacceptable. I could see his belief system had been shifted, he could not wrap his head around the fact that being normal meant being imperfect. We were all imperfect people, all except Heero, or so he had been thought be believe and indoctrinated to strive for. But perfection was not achievable in day to day life. There were no precursors to missteps and mistakes. Only after you twisted you ankle you realized you should have thought out your footing more carefully. It is this hindsight that I find valuable, to learn and grow, but Heero could not see it's value, only it's sadistic irony. I was done with my own sandwich and I suggested a return to bed. Heero nodded his head. We scraped the final pieces of bread into the garbage bin, rinsed peanut butter off the plates under a strong stream of hot water and then padded back to the bedroom, barefoot. It was dark but I could effortlessly find my bed. Once I was settled, I realized Heero was still standing in the middle of the room. Thinking of night blindness I offered to turn on the light, already reaching for the switch. But he snapped: "I can see just fine." I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure if we were solely talking about that moment, finding our way in the dark in the literal sense. I watched him as he moved over to his bed, but instead of lying down under the covers, he sat down on the edge of the bed, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning heavily on them. "You okay, buddy?" "What if being normal never gets easier?" His openness and shared vulnerability took me aback. I swallowed and struggled for words, forming a lot of "uh's" and "Hmm's", but nothing coherent, nothing helpful. I saw him nod his head pathetically. With hope of offering consolidation I spoke softly: "Being normal is overrated anyway." (1) "You don't want to be normal?" I was caught in a lie. Again an awkward fumble for words ensued. He nodded again, he understood. We were silent for a long time. I didn't avert my eyes, keeping them on him as he stared at his own hands as he moved his fingers against each others, a novel, nervous habit. He stroked his left hand with his right and his right hand with his left, then suddenly started picking at the skin as frustration replaced innocent confusion. "Go to sleep, you're just tired." He suddenly blurted: "Is it really that weird that we share a room?" My whole body tensed up, afraid that he would suggest - require - a change in the sleeping arrangements. The dread that commanded me was overwhelming and all I could think was: How am I supposed to know you are safe if I can't see you? "I like that we share a room." He mused. My whole body deflated with relief and I let out a nervous chuckle before saying: "I do too." I settled down, making myself comfortable as Heero also crawled under the sheets. "Goodnight." "Goodnight." And then five minutes later, after what I presume to be an epic inner battle between a boy desperately wanting to be a normal and a soldier equally driven to be perfect: "I love you." "I love you too, Heero." More than anything in the goddamned world.
1) Reviewer Nikki said this in a review and I so agree with that! I don't consider "normal" to be a compliment or even a positive thing, as people should be themselves and that, by definition, is not fitting to a norm. But that's now, when I was younger I wanted nothing more than to be normal, because that meant acceptance and I'm sort of projecting that on Duo and Heero. I find that a realistic mindset for two people who have been through such a hard life and now figure normality will make everything better. If only they knew ;) Thank you Nikki, I hope you don't mind me quoting you!
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