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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 "
The leak in the roof is still to be fixed. The paint on the walls has yet to dry. The clothes haven't been unpacked. The kitchen is covered in plastic wrapping and sawdust. The bathroom is only bare concrete and exposed plumbing and fixtures. The queen sized bed is not but an assembly of wooden boards propped up against the wall, next to the rolled up carpet. But there is an old dresser in the living room of our new house that makes this house our home. It is not so much the dresser that might catch someone's eye. What glistens like a gem at the point of discovery, are the numerous frames in various sizes and colors, that scatter the surface. There is a particularly large one at the center of the divine chaos and it features five smiling young men. Five Gundam pilots who made more of their destiny than anybody had ever expected or dared to hope, including themselves. We have our arms wrapped around each other and as the kind guest immortalized the moment, I made bunny ears with two of my fingers behind my unknowing friend WuFei and my gaze was diverted away from the camera and was fixed on Heero, who had just leaned his head against my shoulder. Trowa and Quatre were beaming and not because of their matching white tuxedo's, they looked at each other and kissed to the backdrop of their perfect, proudly gay wedding. And then there is a picture of me, with my face unrecognizable as it is covered with my own birthday cake, but you can tell I'm smiling even though the cake in front of me is ruined. Quatre has his finger dipped into a glob of whipped cream on my cheek. Heero, on the other side of me, is licking frosting right off my cheekbone. WuFei is standing behind me, with his hands still on the back of my head and he looks vindicated and smug. Trowa is sneakily skilled with his camera phone. A small photo to the left is a group-shot of a different kind. Heero and I formed the center of the composition, surrounding us were friends from a new lifetime. Landon is to my left, he has a strange smirk on his face after making a somewhat inappropriate gay joke. Sookie is next to him, her hand still in the air as she had not hesitated to slap him on the back of his head for the remark. Next to Heero, Une stands proud and tall, maybe a little taller than usual, with her long-term boyfriend just about to wrap his arm around her waist. He has an engagement ring in his pocket, at this moment, she doesn't know it yet. Finally, next to him, is his sister, a stocky woman who doesn't resemble him in the least. She is a therapist. Our therapist. We would never admit it to be so but at some point in time, I suspected she had not only made us believe in ourselves, she had also succeeded in making us belief in psychology. Farther to the left is a picture of Heero and me. The background is filled with the vibrant colors of a traditional Japanese temple and the pink fuzz of cherry blossom that is out of focus. My face is contorted in the first stroke of a ridiculous laugh and Heero is frowning because he didn't understand what was so funny about what he had just said. I don't even remember anymore what had caused me to laugh, but that was insignificant, the important thing was that after the picture had been snapped, Heero himself started laughing too. There is a picture of the front of the house as well, an angle from which at that time it looked condemned; the deck is rotting away and the chimney is dangerously tilting away from the roof. But the sign in the front yard reads SOLD and I'm standing by it holding a yellow and red toy hammer, grinning at Heero who is behind the camera. In another picture, there is just Heero. The image was snapped only days before we were set to move out of our apartment and we were getting ready for another day of packing. Heero is leaning against one of the boxes marked "kitchen shit", marking the boxes had been my responsibility and I found myself a little bit less than eloquent, a little bit more than devilish. He was only wearing grey sweatpants, sinfully low on his hips, his long legs extended out, casually crossed at the ankle. His hair is tousled, probably because we had just had sex that morning. His face sports a sweet, yet smug smile, probably for the same reason. He had topped for the first time and we were both most pleasantly surprised. Tingles still run down my back when I look at that picture, but it's our little secret. A fluffy creature fills yet another frame. This picture is very new, the kitten is barely any older than it was the day the picture was taken. Bright green eyes contrast against a grey coat. It looks like it's grinning with naughty plans to mind, which is why his tiny bowl says "Mischievous". I suspect this name won't be proven unjust. Someday there would be a puppy, but not quite yet. There is a picture of the two of us in our Preventer uniforms as well. It is taken from the back of a high school auditorium, the camera phone zoomed in as much as it could. We are on the stage, behind us a projection on the wall reads "Thank you for listening, do you have any questions?". In addition to training agents, we scheduled time to visit my old high school as graduation time approached, supposedly with the intention of convincing young people to consider a future within the agency. Personally, I was just there to rub my super gay love into their narrow-minded faces and convince them of a different possibility for a future. Sookie, aware of my intentions and happy to enable me, shouted from the back: "Do you love him?" Her question is why I am kissing him on the mouth with smiling lips, right there in front of everybody. There is no shame, only our love. Amidst the collection of photographs, two heavy duty bolts stand out. One is in pristine shape, aside from minor scratching of the usual wear-and-tear kind. The other is mangled, looks burned and is marred with deep slashes. In reality, though the surface does not betray this truth, both were once equally damaged as they are now both equally healed. In the tiny picture right behind them, Heero and I are both smiling, with our cheeks pressed together. You can't tell, but out of frame, our fingers are intertwined, but from our eyes you can tell we are happy. You see, we can't be scarred, we can't be burned, we can't be bent and we can't be broken. Not because we are the God of Death and the Perfect Soldier. Because we are Duo and Heero and we have each other. And finally, in the last frame, there isn't a picture at all, elegant black letters on plain white display a quote by a lady who died a long time ago but spoke as if she knew us: "I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love."
* The quote is by mother Theresa I would really be honored if you would share your final thoughts on the story with me. A lot of thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, it was really great to have your encouragement and support :)
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