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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 "
I woke to Monday morning with a start, resurfacing from a dream that I instantly forgot when my eyes opened to the soft sunlight, but the sheen of sweat on my skin and the thunderous beating of my heart reminded me that it had not been a good dream. With a sigh I wiped some sweat off my brow and then lay my hand over my heart, feeling it's struggle. It was just a dream, I reassured myself and my heart rate slowed. With stealth that would have made all of my previous mentors proud, from the sly Solo to the demanding G, I fathomed out of the bedroom without causing a single stir in Heero's sleeping form. The sun was shy at the horizon, peeking from behind fluffy, innocent clouds that reluctantly passed by. I had my wake-up-coffee - extra strong - by the large bay window in the living room, watching civilization come to life on the pavement and tarmac below. I lingered in my morning ritual before rushing out the door to get me and my... boyfriend breakfast. The lady at the bakery had been all smiles - few teeth - lately and barely offered a word. A grandmotherly demeanor had washed over her and she practically forced a home-made cookie through my teeth after which she hastily showed me the door, sending me back out into the world. The door shut with the delicate ring of an old bronze bell and I swallowed the cookie, realizing it was pretty tasteful. At home I grabbed the almost empty jar of peanut butter. I never acknowledged the fact of it's surprisingly fast decline of content, never spoke a single word about it and as far as Heero knew, I had not noticed. Sometimes, when I would be too engrossed in a random, poorly made science fiction movie or series, he would sneak out of the office, inconspicuously - an adverb he is very familiar with - grab a spoon from the drawer and then silently, nothing more than a whisper, screw the top off the peanut butter jar, dip in the spoon and quickly return to the safe haven of his little office. The first time I noticed was the previous week, when during an impromptu cleaning spree while Heero was at work I spotted a spoon on his desk, licked clean so meticulously that I thought it was actually clean. I didn't understand then and just placed the spoon with the other dishes, to wash it just to be sure. But the spoon kept reappearing. Only then did I pay extra attention to his wanderings beyond the threshold of the office and noticed his suspicious behavior. It never failed to make me smile. "Good morning!" I chirped as I registered the barely audible click of our bedroom door being opened. "Hn." I handed him a steaming cup of coffee and his breakfast plate. I watched him interchange sips with bites for a while, contenting myself with the mere sight of him. Man those pants fit him nicely, I thought naughtily as my eyes traveled down his body. His question was blunt, as to be expected of him. "What are you going to tell Sookie?" Nerves immediately gathered in my stomach. I had stubbornly avoided all thought on the matter, because the thoughts and the questions made me feel ill with uncertainty. "I haven't really given it much thought..." I admitted. "That doesn't seem like a good strategy." I smiled at him. "I don't need a strategy. I just need to tell her what feels right." He lengthily chewed a particularly big bite of bagel, looking thoughtful with a slight frown and gaze cast towards the ceiling. His eyes settled back on me and he asked: "Does the truth feel right?" I sighed. I didn't know. I told him so, even though I knew he had no advise to be given. "I don't know how she will react to the truth..." After a long pause he wondered: "Do you want to tell her the truth?" "Well, "want" is quite an ambiguous term in this situation. I do want to in the sense that I want to be honest and I want her to be my friend and being honest is the only way to accomplish that. But I don't want to because it's going to be hard and she might not understand... it also might not be best for us. What if she becomes angry, what if we accidentally killed someone she knew and she wants to take revenge? She could rat us out." He nodded. The motions of his bangs distracted me momentarily. "A valid point." I looked down and fidgeted a bit. I guess I had hoped for him to tell me to ignore all that and just be true to my heart, but I was mistaking him for Quatre. Quatre sees the values and importance of the emotional argument, Heero can only quantify the pros and cons by way of risk assessment. Heero was the wrong person to turn to when you are looking for the answer you want to hear, Heero can only give you the answer he thinks is right and those two usually aren't similar. "I'm sorry." Heero breathed. He put away his plate and coffee, even though he wasn't finished yet. He seemed angry with himself when he said softly: "I'm not the best in giving advise." I stepped forward and cupped his chin gently with my right hand, feeling the softness of the skin, not yet -if it ever will be - plagued by hair growth and razor irritation. "That's not true." I whispered and I was right. "Your advise is honest. Granted, it may not always be what I want to hear," I added with a chuckle: "it's what I need to hear. You are the only voice of reason in my head." I kissed him, tasting coffee and peanut butter, a strangely erotic mixture when combined with the warmth and hesitance of Heero's mouth and the smell and feel of his body. "I should go." He slipped into his jacked and rushed towards the door. "Good luck." He said and then he was out the door. I'll need it, I feared. The walk to school was burdened with heavy feelings. A naive, immature part of me wished that the whole matter had blown over and Sookie and I could simply return to being blissfully unaware friends, but ironically her questioning- and no-bullshit-attitude were part of why I especially liked her. She was different in an outspoken way, she dared to ask the questions that other people would bite back. She is like me. I ran with that thought and I tried to imagine my own response to the news I was about to give her. Trying to empathize with the position of an untainted, "mere" citizen, who experienced the war only through a fifty inch flat screen and then from that point of view trying to name the feelings that would come to me if I would be told by one of my friends that he or she killed people and was part of the war that earned only my disgust after staring at the repetitive news reels of wrangled metal, blood and death. I realized that if I was that person, I wouldn't like this Duo character. The knot in my stomach tightened. I was sad, but at the same time, I grew angry, because I knew the only reason she would end up hating me was a case of misunderstanding, because she simply didn't know, didn't understand. And I couldn't even grant myself the satisfaction of accusing her. Because it wasn't her fault. If anything, I should be glad she didn't "understand" war the way Heero and I did. It's knowledge you'll live happier without. All of a sudden I was standing at the gate of the enclosed school yard and I felt like everybody was looking at me, but of course they weren't. I stepped through the iron gate and walked into the crowd, then I realized they were looking at me! Their unsubtle whispers reminded me of the drama that went down at Aiden's party last week. I started to recognize their stares. Contempt. The rumor of me being gay had been proven true and they didn't approve. I stopped for a second, meeting their gazes, but all of them quickly looked away. My heart began to beat wildly but then my brows furrowed together and my lips pursed in an angry expression as I was reminded: I am not a stupid, ignorant school kid, I am the God of Death! "What?" I yelled. They all looked at me again. "Do I have something on my face?" "Cum!" An anonymous prankster called from the depth of the crowd. "Oh, thank you." I replied sarcastically and I wiped my left cheek with my sleeve, even though there was naturally nothing there and then with loud voice I announced: "You see, I sucked my boyfriend's dick this morning!" Their faces turned pale and shocked and soon the soft muttering returned as they all turned to their little groups to discuss this outrage that was me and my flagrant homosexuality. I stepped forward and the crowd parted before me like the red sea and I walked amongst them feeling victorious, even though they ridiculed me in lowered voices. I was victorious. They would disagree, but they would be wrong. Because I was not a bigot and I was not a pushover. I disappeared inside the building where I shared a short burst of laughter with myself in the empty hallway. I climbed the stairs to the classroom for Colony literature and arrived at the same time as the teacher. He greeted me and unlocked the door. I took my usual seat, in the back of the classroom, the teacher started rifling through stacks of papers and manila folders, the room was filled with the whir of the paper running by his thumb. In the quiet I organized my thoughts, but all structure was disbanded, blown away like a house of cards when I heard the squeak of all-star sneakers on the linoleum floor and I looked up to see Sookie flip the curly, strawberry blonde hair out of her face, revealing a concerned and sullen expression, reflecting my own. She took her seat, the one next to mine and for a moment we didn't say anything. The teacher was oblivious, with his reading glasses perched at the tip of his nose like a suicidal cliff diver on a rocky edge, he focused on the papers spread out on his desk. When he pushed a stack of folders to the side, it knocked the miniature model of colony L1 off his desk and the sound of it's impact with the floor made me jump. After the noise, the silence was not allowed to return - as we shouldn't let it - Sookie leaned far out of her seat, to come close to me and she said softly and genuinely: "I've missed ya." "I've missed you too." Even though I was whispering, my gravelly voice sounded so loud. I looked up but the teacher was preoccupied with his model, mourning a particularly disastrous break. "Ya don' have to tell me if ya don' wanna." Sookie spoke. I blurted: "I do want to tell you." I did, I always had, but the fact that she wasn't prying probably contributed most to my definitive willingness to share my past with her. "Just... not here..." I eyed the teacher warily, but his clumsiness with the model reassured me he was not eavesdropping, yet I wanted more privacy. I immediately thought of inviting her back to the apartment, but figured that would be a bad idea should she react as negatively as I dreaded. We also couldn't go to her place, because her grandparents would be there. Finally, I decided to suggest meeting in the library after school. It would be practically abandoned with the football team playing against their rivals that afternoon. She agreed right before the other students gathered and the teacher began class, clearly distraught by the loss of his prized model. I had expected her to keep her distance during the day, but she didn't. During every break she sought and found me and she talked like nothing had happened and like she didn't worry about anything that was about to happen. I couldn't decide how that made me feel. I swung back and forth between confidence and relief and terror and guilt. The switching emotions made the day feel like a rollercoaster ride. I skipped my last period, one hour before we had agreed to meet. I locked myself in a stall in the boy's restroom. Through the window I could hear the students rallying, cheering for the upcoming game. What an envious, uncomplicated life, I thought bitterly. I came out and looked at myself in the mirror before turning the faucet wide open and splashing my face liberally with cold water, but still my cheeks felt hot. "Why am I feeling this?" I asked my mirror image. "I didn't feel like this this morning, when hundreds of people were staring at me and judging me... I don't care what she thinks." I released a deep breath. That wasn't true, I thought to myself, and it wasn't fair to Sookie. I cared about Sookie and therefore I naturally cared about her opinion. I couldn't be the God of Death around her, around her, he didn't exist, there was just me, just Duo, this stupid school kid that doesn't care about fitting in and is crazy in love with his roommate. Not even Heero could offer me that. But I needed it. The cheering outside grew louder as more and more people joined in. The crowd of fans and rivals was swelling, four O'clock was drawing near. I dried my face with the available paper towels that felt like sand paper on my skin and then I headed for the library. As predicted, it was desolate like the desert. By the door, seated behind a small mahogany desk was the only soul; the elderly clerk. She peered at me from underneath the folds of her wrinkled skin. The high bookshelves swallowed me and enveloped me with a scent of wisdom and age, gathered through the centuries like the layers of dust that covered them. Few people read books nowadays, with most published works digitized. I disappeared inside the maze further and further, heading towards the autobiography section where we had agreed to meet. It was actually knows as the "all-the-way aisle", it was so unpopular and infrequently visited people had actually lost their virginity right there, between the copies of autobiographies ranging from Barbara Streisand to Treize Kushrenada. What odd "bed-fellows", I thought, but the guy who lost his virginity in a hammock in the windowless hull of a sweepers vessel to man whose face was unrecognizable with black soot, shouldn't judge. When I rounded the last corner into the aisle, she was already standing here, leafing through a thick book. "Hey." My voice was shaky and unsure, like I had come to lose my virginity as well. Sadly, that was a gift long unpacked. "Hey." She closed the book and held it to her chest. The title spoke volumes. A HERO IN LIFE AND DEATH The post-mortem autobiography of Heero Yuy, the other Heero Yuy - I didn't like to say the "real Heero Yuy", because that would imply something that wasn't true. "Ya know," She started, turning the book delicately in her hand to look at the cover, a picture of the charismatic man, "most people on earth don't even know who he was. Ain't that unfair? He did so much for so many people... for earthians too... and they don't even know who he was." I cocked my head and didn't say anything. "But... I guess that's what being a real hero is about, ey? Not needing to get credit. Just doing stuff cuz it's right..." she looked at me meaningfully. I avoided her gaze by looking down at the violated carpet of the "all-the-way-aisle". "I think I know who ya are." Her tone was soft, not accusing, yet I did not dare to meet her look. "I'm not sure you do." "Ya were a Gundam Pilot." Her words struck like thunder, with a spectacular flash and a frightening crack. "Duo, it's cool. Ya saved the world!" She took two steps closer and I took two steps back. She stopped and through my lashes I saw her clutching the book. "What are ya afraid of? How did ya think I'd react?" I finally looked up and saw her friendly smile, but it brought tears to my eyes. "Not like this. And you wouldn't have reacted if you really... knew." I struggled to find words, that shunned me like disgraced friends. "I... We're... " After some more stumbling, I squeezed my eyes shut, sounded the words out in my head and then threw them out there, into the open, into the strangely appropriately named "all-the-way aisle". "We're not the heroes you think we are." I opened my eyes to her confused expression. "We don't deserve your reverence, or your appreciation... In the end we did what was right, sure... but that doesn't make us heroes. Not the kind of heroes you are thinking about." I looked to the left, to the books and my eyes landed on the titles and the names on the backs of the book. I took one from it's place, dust spilled into the air. I held it up for her to see. "He was a hero." I said and I put Martin Luthor King's biography back. "And," I pointed at the book she was holding to her chest, "he was a hero. They stood up for justice, they did what was right for all the right reasons. The only reason I even participated was because I was living on the street and I was starving and some old goat offered me food and shelter. And Heero, my Heero," I said to clarify, "he was taken in when he was so young, he doesn't even remember anything else. He didn't choose anything, he was forced and then brainwashed to believe that it's what he wanted." I sighed deeply, overwhelmed with feelings and memories. I was hard to stay strong. I needed a hug, but no one would give me one because I didn't deserve one. I heard Sookie slide Yuy's autobiography back into it's slot. "All I know... and all I need to know, is that the Gundam Pilots ended both wars. They stopped the army, one of 'em risked his life to prevent that piece of space ship from crashin' into earth and they resolved the whole Mariemeia incident without killing a single soldier. And no one could have forced you to do that." Her muted footfalls grew closer. All of a sudden arms wrapped around me and I was being hugged. With a powerful feeling of relief I hugged her back. "Ya're a hero." She said into my ear. I embraced her even tighter and then told her with a light, breathless chuckles: "It was actually Heero who stopped that piece." Her chest vibrated with a quiet laugh. "He's a hero too." I inhaled the fresh scent of her clean clothes contently. "I love you, Sooks." "I love ya too, superman." Half an hour later found us sitting in a hole-in-the-wall diner after elbowing our way through the mob of Tampa Titan fans. I had suddenly felt weak and lightheaded with hunger, not surprising considering the fact that other than two reluctant bites of bagel I hadn't been able to eat all day. My stomach had been full with nerves, but as soon as they dissipated and left my stomach empty a growling protest sounded from my gut and it had broken the silence and the tension between us and had made us both laugh. With watering mouth I ordered a hamburger with fries and a large strawberry milkshake - for once not being my own mother and preventing myself from spoiling my appetite right before dinner. When the waiter turned to Sookie she just said: "Ditto." "Not interested in football?" The waiter asked absentmindedly as he scribbled our orders on a notepad he awkwardly held in the palm of his hand. He must have recognized us as students from Tampa high; the school was just across the street and a lot of his customers were probably students. "Not really." "That'll be 16.85." I reached into my pocket for my wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill - one of Heero's twenty dollar bills - and handed it to the waiter and told him to keep the change. He thanked me, though it didn't sound sincere and then he left us alone. As we waited for our meals the conversation didn't immediately steer back to the "Gundam topic". We talked mostly about the madness of the crowd that was audible even from the considerable distance between the diner and the field. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether it were cheering fans or a crowd screaming in horror. I laughed when Sookie said the first was probably the case when the Titans scored and the last when the opposite team scored. We discussed the extreme, fanatic interest many people had in sports - football in particular, in the Reformed United States of America - and the terminology soon became very psychological and we kept circling back to the same conclusion: conformity. Obviously neither of us thought very highly of college- or professional sports, with her being a girl and me being gay. Some stereotypes simply had footing in reality. The waiter interrupted our discussion and placed heavy plates and large glasses in front of us. "Enjoy your meal." He said. "Thank you." The first few bites were taken in silence and then we both took a sip through the curled straw in our milkshakes, making a laughable slurping sound. We didn't say anything for a while longer and from observing her face I concluded she was trying to find a way to circle back to the subject she was really interested in. I didn't want it to be a big deal, or be like a taboo between us, so I encouraged her with a smile and a teasingly drawled: "Yes?" She thought for a while longer, running a fry repeatedly through the mountain of ketchup that she had dumped on the side of her plate. Finally she dropped it and put her hands under the table, in her lap, perhaps to keep herself from fidgeting. "We don't have to talk about it if ya don't wanna." I adamantly shook my head. "No, it's fine, honestly. Now that you know the truth, you might as well know the entire truth." Her face broke into a relieved smile and she brought her hands back up so she could make gestures to accompany her words, as she always did when she talked. "I have so many questions!" I put my finger in front of my lips to remind her to keep her voice down. "Sorry..." She whispered. "Ask them." There was a pause, not one of discomfort, it seemed like she had trouble to decide which question to ask first. Eventually, she picked one. "Which one were ya?" The memory of Deathscythe that flashed before me made me smile. When you are all alone you can't help but get attached. I almost felt like the Gundams were five completely separate characters in the story of our life and in history. Without them, us pilots would have been lost. Sometimes the credit that was due was never given. Everybody seemed to reason they were just machines, but I dared to say the five of us would strongly disagree. How many time did that Gundanium armor save our lives? I leaned in closer, across the table, to keep our conversation private and Sookie copied my move, seemingly excited by the secrecy. I glanced around myself warily, but I needn't worry, the few people that were present paid absolutely no heed to us, too engrossed in their own lives and accompanying troubles. I chuckled sheepishly at the pre colony-clichéd-spy-movie-scene we created. "Uhm..." The thought of us wearing bowler hats momentarily threw me off guard. "I piloted the black one." "Awesome!" Sookie managed to exclaim in a hushed voice. I looked around again, but no one bothered with us. Everyone was quietly talking to their own companions, like they too were sharing secrets and the waiter was sitting behind the bar reading a newspaper, stirring a spoon in his cup of coffee endlessly. "That's the one with the batwings, right?" I decided not to get into the technical details of the upgrades and modifications and simply nodded. "Cool. That one was always my favorite." She grinned. "You have a favorite?" She nodded enthusiastically and then leaned her head down to take a noisy sip from her milkshake. "Hmhm. I keep hoping for L1 to come with some sort of merchandize line. I would love to have a Gundam-lunchbox." She laughed but, disturbingly, she wasn't joking. "I doubt they will ever make Gundam-lunchboxes." I said confidently, even though the L1 marketing industry was famous for making a brand of the most stupid and farfetched things. "I don't think anyone should put war-machines on kid's lunchboxes." At that she nodded and appeared regretful of her remark. To cheer her up I said: "It would be pretty funny though." She nodded and the smile returned to her lips. "What was it called?" "You mean my buddy? He was named Death scythe." Sookie chuckled. "Yer buddy?" I blushed with irrational shame and stuffed two fries into my mouth. "Hmhm. There are only two people in the world that I call "buddy". My Gundam and my boyfriend." I smiled, stupid with happiness. "Does your boyfriend's Gundam have a name too?" I was amused by her enthusiasm and curiosity and decided to answer, even though I should be careful with divulging confidential information; I should not spew it so readily. But I trusted her, her face told me she had no ill intentions. "Heero's Gundam was named Wing. Past tense. They were all destroyed." "I'm sorry." She reached out her hand to touch mine. It felt warm and comforting. "No, that's okay. It's for the better. No one can be trusted with that kind of power." "No one but ya?" She teased. "Well, we are heroes." I joked. Her hold suddenly tightened and her face turned serious. I raised an eyebrow. "Ya are a hero. It's not a joke. Ya are." "Thanks." Was all I said. I think she understood what I meant. To stop the conversation from coming to an awkward stand-still I continued by telling her the names of the other Gundams, but never made any reference to the other pilots, hoping that she would get the message that that topic was off limits. I noticed something dawning in her eyes. She suddenly seemed to realize that it wasn't all as cool as our talk of mechs and lunchboxes had implied. Pity became visible on her face and as soon as I recognized it as such I told her not to do that. She blinked her saddened eyes in confusion. "Don't feel sorry for me," I said softly, no accusations, "It sucked, it was horrible... but good came out of it too, so I no longer feel sorry for myself and it doesn't help if someone else does." She nodded determinedly but admitted: "It's hard though... cuz it must've been so tough on ya." I could empathize with her sentiment, it was similar to what I felt for Heero, I told her that and then added: "It's difficult for me not to pity him, but I should try harder because he doesn't want my pity. It's not what he needs to grow. But you're right... It's hard." "What do you do?" "When something is hard, I just try harder, till I get there. I just try to help him, to the best of my abilities." I snickered. "And try to sneak in a few kisses and gropes." Sookie laughed with me, the sound warm and welcoming and it seemed to brush everything else off the table. "I see the sexual attraction has kicked in." "It has." I washed my last bite of hamburger down with my last sip of milkshake. "Just like you said... It's getting bad though." "Bad?" She brought a fry with ketchup sauce to her mouth - or rather: ketchup sauce with a fry. "Yeah. Let's just say the sexual attraction has more effect on me than it does on him. Sometimes I'm not even sure if the attraction is mutual." In spite of it being a hard topic for me to open up about, I was glad I could discuss it with her. I needed to tell her, even if all she could offer me was to simply listen. It had been hard struggling with these issues by myself. I liked to pretend I'm expert when it came to emotions and intimacy and in comparison to Heero I may as well have been, but in all honesty I too was challenged in that department. I may not have the humanity literally choked out of me, none of the scientists who reared and trained us had delved into a copy of "Raising hormonal teens into emotionally developed adults for dummies". "Why, what happened?" I bit the inside of my cheek, nervous like the mere kid I was. "We sort of made out last Saturday..." I looked up at her, to gauge her reaction. If anything she seemed excited. I raised an eyebrow at her inappropriately interested expression. She shrugged with a devilish smirk. "Gay guy sex is hot." I chuckled "How can two guys getting it on be attractive to you?" "Call it residual heterosexual attraction... ya know, something evolutionary sensible that just won't go away." I shook my head. "I wonder what Darwin would call that." "Survival of the misfittest?" We shared a smile and then she urged me to continue the story and she promised me not to think perverted thoughts. I told her all about Saturday night after we had gotten home, leaving out any mention of the ball because I didn't want to bring the topic back to the war and me being a Gundam Pilot. With a red hue flattering my cheeks I told her that I had gotten lost in the sensations and in the spur of the moment had wanted to take things further. "Ya mean ya wanted to plug into his home entertainment center?" She crudely clarified with a wink. I nodded, baffled, but managed to compose myself and continued that as soon as I reached for the button of his pants, he became disinterested and when it was undone he wanted me gone. I told her that I feared he was scared of me, scared of what might happen. I silenced Sookie's void "I'm sure yer reading too much into it" by showing her the bruises his fingers had left on my wrist. Her eyes widened and with her own fingers - with black polished nails - she gently touched the marks. "Yikes." "Yikes indeed." I spoke forlorn. "And he refused to talk about it. I tried to start up to the conversation the next day, but short of asking him bluntly, which frankly I was scared to do, there was no way of prying an explanation out of him." "Why are ya scared to ask him?" I shrugged miserably. "I'm afraid I'm not going to like the answer..." Then suddenly, out of the blue, she said the thing that a little damned voice in the back of my head had been torturing me with since that night and still it was like a thunderclap. "Yer afraid he was raped." I looked at her sharply and then turned my sad eyes down, nodding softly. "Why?" She didn't share in the heavy feelings I felt. "Ya guys are still young. It's only natural if he wants to slow things down a bit..." I sighed. Normally, she would have been right. But nothing about me and Heero, our pasts, our presents, our futures, was normal. She didn't know the whole story. She didn't know of the training. She didn't know what they were capable of and what they were willing to do to us - to Heero especially - to prepare us for any situation. Any situation. I wasn't sexually assaulted myself, but like I had concluded before: G didn't submit me to all of J's training. He left out the choking bag... God knows what other dark secrets he thankfully spared me. "Duo," She said softly to make me look up, "I don't really know Heero, but he seems like a straightforward guy, no pun intended, I think if this really worries ya so much and ya think ya have good reason to believe he was ... I think ya should just ask 'im." I nodded slowly, grateful she didn't use that terrible word again that stabbed at my heart with abandon. The conversation died out. Our meals were finished and outside the sunlight had faded to a red glow that was quickly surrendering to the dark coming over the opposite horizon. The cheering had only grown louder, fans were flooding the street, they seemed ecstatic, giving reason to believe the Tampa Titans had claimed victory. All heads turned to look through the smeared windows at the crowd, waving banners and T-shirts they had taken off. I jumped in my seat when suddenly a flare shot up amidst them and exploded high in the sky. People looked up in awe at the green and blue sparkles of the firework - the colors of the Titans' uniforms. Outside a victory was celebrated and even though I was not part of the opposing team, I still felt like the loser that was mocked by their cheerful exuberance. "Let's go home." "Yeah." I walked Sookie to the bus stop around the corner, where I waited with her till the bus arrived. She mockingly applauded my chauvinistic chivalry. Mature as I was I just stuck my tongue out at her. When the bus screeched to a halt in front of us I embraced Sookie before she could step on board. With my nose buried in her blonde locks I thanked her for being such an amazing person. With a chuckle she brushed the compliment off, saying with a sweet smile she could not take credit for that, her grandparents had made her into who she was. "Ya should come over sometime, with Heero. Then ya can thank 'em." She said as we parted. She stepped into the bus, waved her card in front of a scanner and with a beep she was welcomed on board by an electronic display and the doors closed. With one hand she held onto a metal bar for support as the bus jostled back into motion, with the other she waved at me till the bus was out of sight. For a moment I just stood in the night air by the flickering light of a lamp post, hoping that Sookie was wrong, that the people who raised us did not make us into who we are. Otherwise, Heero, the other pilots and myself, were screwed. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and started the walk back home. My hope that Heero would be home already was naive and in vain. I opened the front door to a dark and empty apartment. Lost in my own thoughts I turned on a single light by the couch and laid myself down on the cushions, sighing heavily. When the weight was taken off my feet, I suddenly felt exhausted. With a stomach filled with food and a head filled with worry, sleep threatened. I tried to fight it, but that, too, was in vain. My eyes slid closed again and that time I was not able to force them open. I thought: I won't go to sleep, but I can rest my eyes for a minute. The next thing I know I am sitting straight up on the couch with a head feeling fuzzy and light. My palms and my back were sweaty. I had suffered another annoyingly quickly forgotten nightmare. With a frown I tried to remember anything, anything, but I drew a complete blank. I blinked and then realized that still the only light on in the apartment was the one I had turned on when I had gotten home. What time is it? I wondered. Heero obviously wasn't home yet. Apparently I hadn't slept for as long as I thought I had. I crawled to the other side of the couch, towards the dim light and shook my arm out of my sleeve to expose my wristwatch. The hands of the timepiece gripped my heart painfully, causing me to gasp and feel a sharp pain in my chest. The short arm stiffly pointed at the space between the one and the two and the long arm just moved to touch the eleven. "Heero?" I called with shaky voice, even though I knew it to be useless. As expected there was no answer. I jumped to my feet and rushed to the phone, first checking for any missed calls, but there weren't any. Then I hastily dialed the number of his office. The receptionist that answered noticed I was distraught and asked me if everything was okay. I told her I would be as soon as I would have Heero Yuy on the line. She quickly patched me through. As always it took forever for his phone to be answered. Was he ever at his desk? I wondered furiously. I groaned when an image of wrangled cars and maimed bodies flashed before my eyes. "Pick up!" "Hello?" My breath hitched. "Heero?" "No. This is Reid Mixson... we spoke before." I really hated this man. "Where's Heero?" I demanded. There was a pause. "He's on his way home." "When did he leave the office?" Another pause - maybe he was checking his watch - before he answered: "Fifteen minutes ago... maybe twenty..." I let out the breath I had been holding. The commute between home and work usually took him thirty minutes, so he would home soon. "You seem relieved." Mixson noted. "I was worried. He didn't say he would be home this late." "There was an emergency. But it's confidential." I rolled my eyes. "I know. Anyway, thanks... I guess. Goodnight." "Goodnight." I waited anxiously by the front door, hearing the soft ticking of my watch in the silence, counting down the seconds. My heart drowned out the sound of time passing as my ears perked at barely audible footfalls coming through the hallway. I looked at my watch, ten minutes had passed since the phone call. I made myself take a cleansing breath. Relieved as I may have been, calm I was not. I was torn between wanting to tackle-hug him for finally being home, or strangle him for being home that late without informing me. The door opened and he came into view. When he spotted me he froze in the doorway, looking at me with wary eyes. All urge to scream and yell accusations at him escaped me with a single sigh as I met his exhausted gaze. His eyes were empty and dark, drained of all color. His shoulders were slumped pathetically and suddenly the perfectly tailored pants and fitting shirt looked too big on him and just left him looking like a kid wearing a uniform he didn't belong in. I guess for the first time my eyes saw the truth. For him, I put on a smile, even though I was equally tired. "Welcome home." I whispered, not a hint of resentment. I approached him and pried his hand of the doorknob and by that hand gently pulled him inside. With my foot I shut the door as I kept holding his hand and looking at him. Eventually, he averted his eyes, looking at the single light. The orange glow of the soft lamp suited him beautifully. His complexion looked warm, contrasting with the dead cold of his eyes. Worry settled over me, suffocating the last of my anger like a fire-blanket doused a flame. "Are you okay?" His hand felt cold and clammy in my own. "I'm fine." Heero answered with gruff voice. He tugged his hand free and headed towards the back of the apartment. "How was work?" I asked as I followed him into the bathroom. "Fine." I rolled my eyes. "You say everything is fine but I know better! You have not-fine written all over you!" I was startled by my own outburst. Apparently worry could be just as volatile as anger. He didn't say anything, he kept his back turned towards me. He leaned forward, over the tub, to turn on the shower so the water could warm while he undressed. He took off his tie first. His movements were jerky and impatient. Because he didn't tell me to go away, I just stood there, watching him. Once the pesky tie was out of the way he unbuttoned his shirt and then his arms moved to shake the fabric off his shoulders but with his arms up, mid-motion, he froze and I heard him wince. "Are you just going to stand there and watch me?" He sounded annoyed. "Yes." With visible effort he pulled the shirt off his shoulder and let it drop to the floor. "What happened?" I asked breathless as I studied the immense, painful looking bruise on his back, covering his left shoulder blade and reaching all the way down to the bottom of his ribcage with a variation of colors, from sickly yellow to a deep purple. "I fell." He said and then let his pants pool at his ankles and stepped out of them. "You fell?" I copied sarcastically. "You looked like you were mauled by a bulldozer!" I pushed past him to the tub and turned off the shower. I plugged the drain and opened the faucet at a warm temperature to let the porcelain basin fill. "What are you doing?" His voice lacked all of it's pervious combativeness and just sounded meek and hollow in the tiled bathroom. "Running you a bath. It'll help with the soreness." I tested the rising water with my hand. "I always take showers." He weakly protested. "Well, now you are going to take a bath." "I'm tired. I want to sleep." There was something childish about what he said but when I turned around there was nothing childish about how he looked. He stood in the middle of the bathroom in just his black boxer briefs, his hands balled into fists at his sides - more out of habit than anything else. His eyes were wild, his hair messy. Golden skin draped across tense muscles beautifully. I swallowed. "Bath first." I made sure my tone of voice left no room for argument. I looked into his eyes for a long time and when I was satisfied he had gotten the message I stepped out of the bathroom. For a moment I doubted, but decided to close the door behind me. I dropped myself down on my bed heavily, burying my face into my pillow. My mind raced. What did the bruise mean? Did he really just fall? Or did he have an accident or was he beaten up and just didn't want me to worry? The faucet was closed and I heard him stepping into the water. I moved my tired eyes to look at the alarm clock on our shared nightstand and groaned at the 02:24. I was going to be a zombie in the morning, but I knew no matter how late it would get, I could not go to sleep without talking to Heero first. Sister Helen used to say: "Never go to bed angry." I was certain that was an umbrella term that included situations like these. However I couldn't simply barge back into the bathroom and demand answers. Maybe before last Saturday I could have, but not anymore. I needed an excuse to get back in. I smirked instantly and crawled out of bed and went to the kitchen. I took a large spoon out of the drawer and dipped it deep into the jar of peanut butter. I returned to our bedroom and stopped at the door to the bathroom, knocking on it softly. "Hn." I took that as a "come in" and opened the door. The room was fogged up with hot steam. Heero seemed relaxed and comfortable in the warm water, his head resting against the porcelain edge. His eyes were a hazy, seductive shade of blue. Our eyes met and our gazes locked for a long time and as he stared into me and I into him, I realized it was the most intimate moment we had ever had. And he was naked. I broke eye contact, casting my gaze down to the white tile floor to compose myself and return my focus to my goal. I held up the spoon, bringing it to his attention. I smiled at his great effort to keep his expression impassive and not look interested, like when we had snuck out of bed on his birthday to stuff our faces with cake. I waited for a moment, trying to read his eyes, but they didn't tell me much. I decided to chance it and step forward, keeping my eyes on his face so they couldn't wander elsewhere. I held out the spoon. Heero raised his right hand up and out of the water and a dripping sound filled the bathroom. He took the spoon from me with a soft "Thank you." He didn't ask me how I knew of his guilty pleasure, he just took his first lick. When he did, I realized it was a mistake coming in here. Lightening arced through me that I couldn't ignore. I damned my teenage hormones most colorfully and started my shameful retreat. I turned my back to him but then Heero called my name. "Yes?" "Stay?" I looked over my shoulder, meeting his incredible eyes once more. "Okay." I could not say no and walk away. His eyes seemed to have magical powers over me. I walked back and sat myself down on the edge of the tub, just behind his shoulder, gripping the rim with one hand for extra support. For a long time neither of us said anything. Heero occupied himself with his treat and I tried to calm myself down, sending myself in some sort of trance. I was awoken by the sound of metal meeting tile. Heero laid the clean spoon down and submerged his hand back into the water, just in time to ripple the surface and preserve his modesty as I briefly lost control over my curious eyes. He rested his head against my arm, stunning me momentarily, but it drew a smile to my face and stilled my sexual desires as it just became a quiet, intimate moment that we shared comfortably. I looked down and saw he had closed his eyes. Deeming him calm and at ease I finally started asking the questions that I needed to ask. Beginning with: "Why were you home so late?" My voice was soft, as to not disrupt the atmosphere. His eyes opened slowly. "... I needed to train a newbie." "That Reid guy said there was an emergency..." "The newbie screwed things up. The whole system crashed." "Couldn't you have called to tell me you would be late?" "We were busy." His tone had gotten defensive so I kept quiet for a few short moments to allow us both to calm down and return to a neutral state. "Next time, please call, okay?" "Okay." He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back heavily against my arm. I brought my free hand up to stroke through his damp hair. "Did you really just fall?" He seemed to melt at my tender ministrations and it took a long time before he answered with a mere whisper: "Yes. Down a flight of stairs." I couldn't imagine Heero tripping, he walked with the elegance and precision of a feline. So I asked: "Why?" "I was carrying heavy equipment. I lost my balance." "Couldn't you have taken the elevator?" He opened his eyes and straightened his neck, pulling his head away from my hand. "Sorry." I said quickly. Obviously he didn't like the third degree interrogation and I couldn't blame him. I decided I needed to trust him, after all, that what I desired from him. How could he ever trust me if I didn't offer trust in return. I assured him I wouldn't ask him about that anymore. "I trust you." I finished. I had hoped he would lay his head back against me, but he didn't. Rather, he leaned his head forward, so I couldn't see his face anymore. I moved from my position on the edge of the tub and kneeled down on the floor next to it, placing my arms on the rim and in turn resting my chin on my arms. From the lower angle I could see his eyes again, through his bangs. I reached out one hand and pulled the bangs, heavy and dark with water, out of his face and smiled at him. He looked at me warily but then he awarded me a small, shy smile in return. I leaned forward, not able to resist temptation and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. I drew back my hand and his bangs instantly fell back over his face. I chuckled at the cute looking mop of hair. He straightened up and with a single flick of his head he whipped the hair out of his face and revealed his eyes that had lit up with a rare sparkle. Curiously I watched him as he leaned in closer. He stilled with his nose only millimeters away from mine, his eyes big and inquisitive but instead of asking me for answers and guidance, he searched for the answers himself. His eyes slid shut as he closed the final distance, but I kept my eyes open, wanting to remember this moment forever and in every possible detail. After what seemed like the span of eternity, our lips touched, just barely. His kiss soon grew more determined, more passionate. He pressed his lips stronger against mine and with his parted mouth he seemed to worship me. With anticipation I opened my mouth slightly and he understood and accepted my challenge, tentatively deepening the kiss with his tongue. I lost all my self-control. I closed my eyes and cupped his head with my hands, kissing him back fervently as he drew the battle of our tongues back into his own mouth. His hands grabbed my wrists again, like he had that Saturday night, but though his grip was tight, it wasn't painful. It was needy and desperate. He was holding them in place to make sure I wouldn't stop, instead of the opposite. I reveled at his unique taste and the taste of peanut butter lingering in his made. It made for an interesting combination that drove me wild. I could have kissed him forever, but humans were sadly engineered to be dependent of oxygen, so with deep reluctance I broke our lips apart, but keeping my hands on the side of his head, feeling the heat of his reddened ears and cheekbones. "That was good." I muttered, panting loudly. I felt lightheaded but that was more likely caused by his passionate kiss than the lack of oxygen. "Hm." He licked his lips, probably subconsciously. I leaned forward and kissed him again, but briefly and innocently. Giving in to the desire to feel his lips just once more. I had a silly smile on my face - Heero even quirked an eyebrow at it - I was just overwhelmed with feelings. I was so happy it almost made me guilty. Nothing should ever feel as good as kissing Heero. No one should ever be this happy. But it did. And I was. Pressing my forehead against his, enjoying the closeness that we were both so strangely comfortable with, I asked him how he felt. He thought for a long time. The answer didn't come to him readily, the Soldier had snatched it and hidden it somewhere deep. But not willing to give up, he found it and he presented it to me in a soft and delicate voice. "I feel happy." He let the hands he had on my wrists trail down, settling in the crook of my arms. The caress sent shivers down my spine but my body felt hot all over. "Happier than I've ever been..." His voice turned quieter still when he added: "Happier than I ever thought I could be." The world suddenly felt like a better place, more welcoming to my very existence. I gave him another brief kiss. "I love you." My lips brushed his as I spoke. Against my own, I could feel his lips curl into a small smile. "I love you too." Progress, I mused with a content smile and I initiated
another lock of the lips.
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