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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 "
Today was a special day, I reminded myself, gazing out the window. An important day. Outside, dawn was barely breaking. The sun seemed to struggle in her rise this morning. I waited for her first rays to reach over the surrounding buildings and warm my face. It was going to be a beautiful day, clear blue skies, a slight breeze and a comfortable 75 degrees. Not particularly hot for this time of the year, here in Florida, but perfectly to my liking. Some days it would just get too hot, too damp. Sometimes the air just felt thick and heavy and when you breathed you experienced the paradox of being suffocated by the air. But Florida was the place we had to be, for Heero, as he had accepted Une's offer to work as a Preventer. He managed to visibly surprise her with his request for a quiet office position. I looked at my watch, it was nearing six am, he would be getting up soon. He had insisted on working, even today, though I told him it would be okay if he took the day off, I could have made plans. But he refused and any further insisting from me was silenced with his trademark glare. I turned my face away from the window as I barely heard the click of the bedroom door. He stepped out, fully dressed in his black and moss green uniform, the black tie tight around his neck, but his jacket hung loosely over his shoulders. I smiled at him when he spotted me at the window, halfway through my morning ritual of coffee and deep thoughts. "Good morning, birthday boy." His gaze hardened at my upbeat greeting. He had been skeptical of this whole "birthday-business" from the beginning, now he seemed ready to bolt. "It's not my birthday." He argued. "Yes it is." He didn't argue further, he had no evidence to back him up. After all, he had no idea what the real date of his birth was and his contrived ID only supported my claim. I think back to a certain day, two months ago, when Heero and I sat shoulder to shoulder behind our laptops, set up on the dinner table in the Tullip hotel. I was applying for citizenship for the two of us through a back door in a government database. As I did so, Heero busied himself creating a paper trail to verify our existence, should our pasts ever be subject to scrutiny. I felt exited, it was like we were etching ourselves into this world, no longer ghostly figures moving through the shadows, but real people, out in the light. Once I had finished setting up my own ID I started work on Heero's. Name, sex and age were easy, the first two I entered truthfully, the third we had decided on eighteen, an age that made a lot of things easier, but wasn't a stretch. The fourth question had me bite my lip. "Heero?" "Hn." "When's your birthday?" His fingers stilled over the keyboard and his eyes narrowed. He was thinking about it. Finally, he answered, looking at me: "I don't know." I felt sorry for him, but didn't let it show. "Okay, no biggie. Even better, you get to pick your birthday! We need a day to celebrate" I exclaimed, smiling widely, hoping it would reflect on him. That seemed to conflict with his practicality. "Why? It wouldn't be my real birthday." "Well, no, but we don't have to celebrate the specific day, we choose a day to celebrate the fact that you were born that year, doesn't matter which day of the year that was. You know, Jesus wasn't really born December twenty-fifth, but that's still when we celebrate Christmas."(1) Though obviously not excited by the idea of a birthday party, he nodded his agreement and curtly suggested: "Okay. You pick a date." "Yeah? Sure?" "Hn." Was his elaborate response. I looked back at my own laptop, the machine not nearly as cherished and well kept as Heero's, humming loudly. I seriously started thinking about it. My own birthday was in fall, which made me sad when I was little, because it never failed to rain on my birthday. Of course, those were scheduled weather simulations that were the same each year. I just always wished that my birthday had been in the spring, like Solo's, my old street rat friend, my protector, my keeper. The most important person in my life at that time. Now, that person was Heero. I looked at him, he paid me no heed. I returned my fingers to the numbers on the keyboard and typed 04-01-180AC. Not Solo's birthday, I didn't want to replace his memory with Heero, but the perfect spring day, at least, that was always the case on L2. I liked the date. For some people a lame excuse to pull lame pranks, for me an excuse to smother Heero. "Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?" I asked as I watched him pour his coffee. His face scrunched up. He didn't like going out for dinner, or at least he thought he didn't. I seriously questioned if he had ever given it a try, but for some reason he had an aversion to it. Probably had to do with being surrounded by people. Or maybe the costs. Heero turned out to be quite frugal, though the Preventers paid him well for his services as a master hacker. "Do you want to rent a movie?" My suggestion fell to deaf ears, he just sipped his coffee. I smiled. Dinner was already in the fridge; chicken. I was a lousy cook but I could manage a simple meal of chicken, fried rice and stir fried vegetables. The cake was in the fridge, in frosting I had written: "Happy birth year!". I had also already rented a movie, Avatar; a pre-colonial CGI masterpiece that set the bar for every movie since. Of course, not many movies were made since, every penny had been sunk into the colonies and then, when the beginnings of the first war started brewing over fifteen years ago... Once done with his coffee he grabbed the bagel with cheese that I got him every morning, from the little bakery down the street - which didn't even open until seven, but they start work early in the morning and the lady comes out to the door every day at five thirty to hand me two fresh bagels, free of charge. I wondered if Heero figured the bagel just magically appeared on our small dinner table every morning, for he never thanked me for my early morning efforts. It didn't bother me. Not much, at least. "Don't be home too late. We have to celebrate." I called before he could rush out of the front door. "Hn." He responded, with the bagel in his mouth, but seriously, would he have said anything else if his mouth hadn't been full? Once he had left I took a shower and readied myself to leave as well. I had classes all day and wouldn't be home much earlier than Heero. My decision to enroll back in school surprised me as much as it did others. But it was a decision that suddenly came to me one night. Heero had already created high school diploma's for us in the International Earth Sphere database. But that night I tossed and turned in my bed. My stomach was churning. I didn't know about most of the stuff they taught in high school, professor G had been too preoccupied teaching me other things, more relevant to the war. The next morning I reversed Heero's work. Instead I inputted that I had completed each year, with exception of the last and was forced to put a hold on my education due to the war. I created old, digital report cards with grades that seemed plausible and a week later, when Heero had agreed to Une's offer and we caught a plane to the Reformed United States of America, I set up an appointment with the principal of a local high school. I remember how nervous I was, going over to the school, an old, colonial style building that loomed over me in a threatening way. I was afraid I would be exposed as the uneducated ex street rat / ex terrorist that I was, but the principal was most friendly. She voiced her concerns about my grades in history - I had given myself a D, considering I knew nearly nothing of Earth's history - but after a short talk she kindly welcomed me to the school. She said she was glad to see young men like myself, who had dropped out during the war, return to school. She did insist that I started in the eleventh grade, as a junior, one year short of the final exams year, because we were already halfway through the school year. I didn't object to that, even though, as I was believed to be eighteen, I would be older than my classmates. She assured it would not cause me any trouble administratively. The payments were all arranged illegally, we had no savings and Heero hadn't even gotten his first paycheck yet. The heavy books cost an additional fortune. Overall I found Heero's curiosity in the matter endearing. He could not understand why I choose to go back to school and informed me that he had memorized the content of all the schoolbooks under J's training. I hadn't and told him so, that just confused him more. I knew next to nothing of Heero's time with J, as he knew next to nothing of my time with G. A lot would be revealed of that in the future, but I knew not yet. It would take time. For both of us. Even though he did not understand, he was respectful of my decision. When I studied he quietly rummaged around in the living room and for the most part left me in private in our small second bedroom that we had made into an office. Most of the rest of the apartment was still empty aside from a few necessary pieces of furniture. My preoccupation with school and his many late hours at the head quarters further stagnated any progress in making this little apartment a home. The walls were white, which I hated and the kitchen cabinets had been painted an obnoxious shade of pink by the previous owner, which I hated even more. In our small kitchen we had cramped a two seat dinner table with futuristic chairs that I had Heero steal - "permanently borrow" is how I phrased it for him - from the Preventers cafeteria. In the living room there was only a couch, which we bought with a splash of illegally wired money and a TV, from the same, unspoken of, funds. The second bedroom was the most completed room in the house. An good investment of time and some money as we spend most of our free time in there. We had bought two large, identical desks and placed them facing each other. The comfortable desk chairs were also permanently borrowed from the HQ and we had a large, oak bookcase that we had yet to fill. Only a single shelf was in use, carrying the weight of my schoolbooks and notepads. Because of our dire need for a home office, we had to share the master bedroom, which was smaller than the second bedroom-turned-office. It was the "master" because of the en-suite bathroom, that was exactly the way the previous owner had left it, but I was fine with that. The "master" bedroom was just big enough for two single beds, separated by a small nightstand and by the foot of Heero's bed, there was a large closet that we shared. We didn't have a lot of clothes. We were precariously balanced at the edge of domestication. Trying desperately to take hold of the fringes of a normal life, as normal boys, in a normal world. But who was to say what "normal" meant? We - me, Heero and the other pilots - were so messed up we could hardly distinct right from wrong, let alone normal from abnormal. We've been living a crazy life for so long, nothing seems less normal to me than this quiet, anonymous life in this humble downtown apartment. I felt out of sync with myself as I busied myself with schoolwork, or interior design. Those weren't the kinds of thoughts I usually occupied myself with. I could still visualize all the technical schemes of my Gundam and weight-to-power ratio's for a long list of explosives. I flung my bag over my shoulder, got the cake out of the fridge before I left and then headed to school. The yard was crowded as it was that first day. Being only two months ago, I remembered it well: the nervousness, the possibility of total alienation. What do I have in common with these kids? I had asked myself. They knew little of the tragedy and hardship of war and nothing of the day-to-day, hand-to-mouth life the poorer colonists live. My first class was an optional course on colonial literature. J.J. Howling, one of the mandatory books for the course, had been a resident of L2 during my street rat phase. He was shot. I knew what happened, I was there. I knew the boy that pulled the trigger. We really weren't interested in him... just his grocery bag, which he refused to give. He called us mongrels and dogs. He shouldn't have. I thought I would hate him forever for making that boy do what he did, but after reading his book, I couldn't. His words were too beautiful. All I felt after the last chapter, was guilt. I wondered if anyone in that class had a book cause such an emotional change in their lives. I was prejudiced against the Earthians, on L2 we had always heard Earthians only cared about themselves. When I had entered the classroom I thought maybe those prejudices were deserved. There were only six people in the classroom that could seat forty. The teacher, a heavyset woman with small eyes, welcomed me to her class and told me I could pick any seat. After the lesson, which she had ended short of the bell, she approached me with a kind smile. "Principal Murphy told me you dropped out during the war." I nodded. "It must have been hard. Especially for the colonies. You are from L2, right?" Again nothing but a meek nod. "I'm glad to have you in my class." She touched her hand to my shoulder gently. "Next time you should sit next to someone. Make some friends." Next time I sat down next to a tanned girl with honey blond hair and sparkling, friendly eyes. She was very attractive. A pair of short, cut off jeans revealed her long, slim legs and her buttoned down shirt allowed for a peek at a black, lacy bra, but her sneakers and a pair of big, nerdy glasses made her seem approachable. "Hey cutie pie," She greeted. Her heavy southern accent caught me off guard. "I'm Sookie Shaw." She grabbed my hand where it was resting on my leg and shook it. "What's yer name?" I smiled awkwardly at the typical Earthian - loudmouthed, confident and trusting - and introduced myself as smoothly and coolly as I possibly could after that. "Nice to meet ya, Duo M-Maxwell." She mocked my stumble. I smiled at the memory. I shared few classes with Sookie, but she managed to butt into my school life expertly in spite of that. "Hey Maxwell!" I heard someone shout from across the school yard. With cheeks tinted red as many heads turned, I headed towards Sookie, who had climbed on top of a picnic table to call me through the crowd. "Wanna go to the beach with us? Great surfing today." She drawled. "No, I can't. It's Heero's birthday." I explained. Sookie squealed in excitement. "I LOVE birthday parties!" I didn't want to tell her that she wasn't invited - no one was - I didn't want to disappoint her, but I had to, because I knew her presence would make Heero uncomfortable. Hell, she still found ways to make me uncomfortable. "Oh. I understand." She said as I explained to her that we were just going to have dinner and watch a movie. "Sounds boring anyway." "Yeah." I didn't know what to say. We just weren't the partying types. Moreover, Heero had no friends to invite and it seemed wrong to invite my friends to his birthday. I knew he wouldn't like that. Her disappointment was soon forgotten as she slipped back into the pre-school-day conversation she was having with the others. Two of which I recognized from the Colonial Lit. class, but I really only socialized with Sookie, because she was the only one who bothered to butt into my life, again and again. The other three were unknown faces, but one of them was wearing a football jacket. I didn't know how to behave around jocks, feeling like an outcast all my life and easily asserting that role the times I used school as a cover during the war. During class I couldn't focus. I was fussing over the details of Heero's "birth year" celebration. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted him to feel even just a spark of the excitement "normal" people felt when their birthday came 'round. I hadn't gone out to buy him a present. It has been in my jeans pocket since the end of the war, always keeping it with me, to be sure Heero wouldn't find it during one of his many prompt cleaning sprees. Not cute cleaning sprees in a domestic kind of way, but a military way of clearing every surface and organizing every drawer, to ensure the highest efficiency of the living quarters. During English I dug my hand into my jeans pocket and fingered the heavy item. I was startled by a "Pssst!". I whipped my head around and looked at Sookie, who was sitting at the table next to mine. She nodded towards my hand, buried deep inside my pocket, the shape of the present was visible through the denim, as it drew taut over my leg when I was seated. "What's that?" She insisted, talking with a quiet hiss so the lecturing teacher at the board wouldn't hear. "Nothing." My innocence was so poorly faked it made me grimace. She didn't notice it all this time and now she did, on the last day I had to carry it with me? Annoying. She smiled. "It's Heero's present, isn't it?" I frowned at her, "That's the first thing you think of?" I whispered back. "No," She admitted, "The first thing I thought was that you were a perv, touching yourself." She finished with a wink. My jaw dropped. "What is it?" She pushed. "I'm not telling you." "Why not?" "It's none of your business!" I hissed, warily glancing at the teacher. He seemed oblivious. "Tell me. Or-" "Fine! I'll show you." I interrupted. The last time she made the "Or else" threat she stopped during the middle of an exercise during P.E and proclaimed that she saw me peeking into the girl's locker-room earlier. I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled it out, showing it to her under the table. She could not hide her disappointment and confusion. "What is it?" I thought for a moment, I didn't really know what to tell her and how much to tell her. "It's a bolt." I finally decided, which was the truth, if not the least elaborate. She scrunched her face up. "You're a freak, Duo." I stuffed the heavy duty bolt back into my jeans pocket. Of course she did not understand the meaning of this highly unorthodox gift, but her negative reaction didn't ease my mind. I had worried that Heero would not be able to appreciate the sentiment. But there wasn't anything else I could think of to give him. When the classes were finally over, the last of which Colonial Lit., I dashed home like a mad man. I heard Sookie call after me, but I pretended not to hear her. It was already five o'clock. Heero's workday officially ended at five thirty, though he usually stayed well after that, if he had abided by my request to come home early, he could walk through our front door in less than an hour. By that time I wanted a hot dinner to be waiting for him. In our tiny kitchen I made due with the few pots and pans we had. Frowning at the mismatched plates as I set the table. Candles? I asked myself. I shook my head. Don't be stupid, Duo. No candles. Every once in a while my gaze would dart down to my watch. I counted down the minutes. I was excited without cause. In all probability this would be an evening like any other. Heero had no intentions to make it special and would surely do his best to thwart my efforts. I turned down the stove to a minimal flame. Dinner was ready, now I had to wait for the guest of honor. I took the cake out of the refrigerator where it had been defrosting during the day and placed it on the counter, covering it with tin foil. It was six twenty-five when the lock turned. I moved to the door, to greet him. He stared at me incredulously. "What are you doing?" He asked in that monotone of his. I must have looked like a total idiot, standing in the middle of the room, with my red, polka dot oven-mittens on, grinning like crazy. "Hey buddy. Happy birth year." I knew I should have shaken his hand or something, but I didn't know how receptive Heero would be to that kind of physical contact. "Hn." He walked into the kitchen and sat himself down in one of the chairs. It wasn't unusual for dinner to be waiting for him, seeing as he regularly came home late at night. I served us both dinner after ditching the ridiculous mittens. I started to feel like a fool. No smile could be brought to his face and that just left me looking totally moronic, acting all excited about something that couldn't even slightly stir someone else's interest. "Enjoy." I said, but he was already digging in. He seemed to have been starving, he probably skipped lunch again. I told him not to do that anymore. You are not his mother, Duo, I reminded myself and followed his lead, quietly eating. After dinner he helped me clear the table. When he started to run hot water for the dishes, I told him he could leave it, I would do them tomorrow, because tonight was supposed to be special. I ushered him to the living room where I sat him down on the couch. I held up the DVD case for him to see. "Have you seen it?" I always asked him this when we were about to watch a movie. So far the answer has always been a shake of his head. "Cool." Was my usual response. I popped the disc into the DVD-player and sat down next to him, maneuvering through the menu with the glitchy remote. It wasn't until half way through the movie that I noticed I wasn't even watching, too worried about what Heero was thinking and if he was enjoying himself. I realized I was putting too much pressure on both of us, but I couldn't help it. I secretly glanced over at Heero. He sat rigidly, his body tense, his eyes fixed on the screen. His mouth looked tight as he fought the illogic of the film. He was intently focused on the movie, like he would be tested on it afterwards. He might never be able to enjoy the experience of watching a movie, I concluded, watching his obvious struggle. He didn't look like he was having fun. I wasn't making this evening special for him, just extremely uncomfortable. You shouldn't force him like this, I scolded myself. I just wanted to share a moment with him that we could always fondly remember, but I needed to adjust my expectations - even though I thought they weren't that high to begin with. He might never be capable of creating fond memories. That thought was a strike to my heart, but it was a possibility that I shouldn't leave out of consideration. I grabbed the remote and pressed "pause". Heero stared at the stilled image for a moment or two before turning to face me with a blank expression, but his eyes were big and innocently questioning. "You don't have to watch this movie with me." I told him, putting on my bravest face. "You can do something else if you want to." "I have work." He quietly confessed. I smiled. It was a sad smile but I'm sure he couldn't tell. I assured him that it was okay and that he could work if he wanted to. He just nodded and then left for our little office. As he closed the door behind him, I put the movie on again. Though the images moved and flashed for another hour, I didn't see. I just felt sad and deflated. I had too much pity for myself to be bothered with the cause of an imaginary alien species. After the movie I retired to the bedroom, exhausted, but once I was in my bed, I found that I couldn't sleep, not without Heero safely there next to me, so I waited for him to finish. He didn't enter the bedroom until past midnight. He shamelessly undressed in my presence as he always did. I don't think Heero has enough of an understanding of shame to feel it. At the very least he didn't have a body that required him to be shameful. I looked away, but it was hard to. I never want to leave him out of my sight. Whenever I do, I worry about him and find myself asking questions like "What is he doing right now?". Dressed in a sleep shirt and underwear, he got into bed. "Duo?" I looked over. The rest of his question was asked by his hand, resting on the light switch. "Yeah." The room went dark at my answer. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and once they had, I turned on my side so I could look at the dark figure in the bed next to mine. Heero was lying on his side as well, but with his back turned towards me. I studied the way his dark hair draped over the white pillow case and appreciated the lettering on the back of his grey shirt. TAMPA HIGH. With a shared closet it was inevitable that some of our clothes would get mixed up. Apparently he didn't mind wearing my T-shirt. "Duo?" The sudden sound of his voice startled me. "Yeah?" He turned on his back, looking thoughtful, his deep frown clearly visible. "I this what birthdays are usually like?" I sighed. "No." I didn't know what to tell him, I didn't want to hurt him by making it seem like it was his fault he didn't have a normal birthday. "Usually there's a party, with a lot of friends and family." "I liked it better this way." I smiled, hopeful. "Just you and me?" "Hn." He agreed. "You know, at birthdays, there is cake too and presents." The corner of his mouth twitched a little. "Cake?" He was so cute when he was trying so damn hard not to sound interested. "Yeah. And presents." I repeated. He finally looked at me, his eyes unreadable in the dark. I got out of bed and grabbed his arm, pulling him out too. "C'mon." I urged. He obediently followed my lead. In the kitchen I ordered him to sit and I unwrapped the cake before bringing it to him. There was only one clean plate left, the rest still filthy in the sink. I grabbed two forks and hoped he wouldn't mind sharing. I sat down next to him and cut off a large piece of cake and put it on the plate in between us. "Here." He gingerly took the fork that I handed to him. With two young, healthy boys working their way through it, the piece of cake was quickly gone, so I sliced us another. As Heero dug into that one, I went back to the bedroom to fish into the pair of jeans that I had worn that day. When I walked back I saw he had stopped eating and was eyeing me with slight curiosity. I held my hands behind my back and grinned at him. He pretended not to care and brought another forkful of cake and frosting to his lips. I sat down again and without any further ado brought my right hand up to his face and opened it, revealing the large bolt in my hand. I knew there was no need for me to explain where I got this. He took the heavy, slightly wrangled piece of gundanium from my hand and looked at it. "After Wing crashed that night," I started. "I knew it was totaled and that every remaining piece of it would be destroyed, like it never existed. I figured, you might like a reminder that it did exist." I opened my left hand, in which I held a second bolt, but this one was black and unscathed. "I have one of Deathscythe, too." I studied his face. I could tell that he did not understand. His logic was saying: "I don't need a reminder, how could I ever forget?" But I knew that someday, down the road, he would get it and he would begrateful that I saved that bolt for him. And I will wait for that 'someday' and reminisce with him. "Thank you." He contemplated for a moment and then made an addition that warmed my heart. "I enjoyed this birthday." My smile must have looked goofy, but I could not pretend to be anything other than deliriously happy, with this seemingly insignificant progress. "More cake?" I pushed the plate his way a little. He nodded, took hold of his fork once more and ate most of what was left of the second piece. I just watched him as he moved with his relentless military precision and efficiency, not a single crumb was wasted. Though knowing I would wake up a fucking zombie in the morning, I stayed up with my friend and waited for him to eat his fill of birthday cake. Next year I will make him smile.
(1) Of course no one really knows when Jesus was born, if you even believe he existed, but before his birth was celebrated on December 25th it was celebrated in January. PS: Am I perv or what? As I wrote the cake-eating scene,
all I could think of was them rubbing frosting all over each other
and then licking it off...
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