18:45
A/N: My uncle died a week ago. This is me dealing with it.
Words:
.:Cold November:.
Wufei is dead.
Duo gets the call while in the scrap yard's truck with Hilde to make a pickup. He quietly, like a drone, tells Hilde the news.
"Do you want to turn around and go back?" She asks, concerned.
Duo keeps his dry eyes straight ahead and shakes his head at a speed precisely between fast and slow.
They finish all of their deliveries and pickups and head to a local diner to grab dinner.
"You want to talk about it?" Hilde asks. Duo is uncharacteristically quiet.
Duo shakes his head a little, his eyes glittering a little too brightly. He chews on the end of his braid, staring at the world through the dirty glass. He smiles and takes a bite of his burger.
They are, once again, at one of Quatre's many mansions. The circumstances now could not have been different from the last time we were all gathered in one of the opulent residences.
The rest of them are here. It is nearing the dead of winter and outside of this isolated fortress, the world is preparing for a jollier season. Duo thinks that the holidays will be different this year.
Quatre has not smiled in days, and Trowa does nothing but quietly observe. Too quietly. They don't touch each other, and Quatre seems pained to be near the Heavyarms pilot.
Sally does nothing but stare.
Duo doesn't know what to do. He feels like a bad person because he can forget about the tragedy for long stretches of time. He wonders if it is denial or if he has just been desensitized to death, even the death of the friend and comrade.
When they make love that night, it is subdued.
Heero uses his mouth and his lips and his tongue and his hands to torture Duo with fulfillment that he feels guilty for feeling.
Duo can do nothing but stretch his mouth wide and arch his back and take everything the Heero gives him. Heero is gentle and slow and every movement he makes is languid and smooth.
Duo lays his head on Heero's chest. Rubs his fingers over the ribbed fabric of the tank top he's sleeping in. He tries to hear Heero's heart beat. All he hears is the air moving in and out of his lungs.
Duo finds that life, as he knows it is still moving along like it always does. WuFei is not slowing or speeding or stopping or starting anything new to his already defined life. Duo doesn't know how to feel about that.
He sits in his borrowed room and stares at the wall for hours thinking about how close and so very far apart they were. When Heero comes in, he doesn't even blink, just shifts his gaze a few feet to the left and doesn't move his eyelids at all. Everything in his brain seems translucent, as if it is not quite there. If he reaches out for something he's not sure if his hand will land on it or pass through it.
The mundane thoughts occupying his consciousness seem all the more trivial and illusory.
When he looks at a picture of all of them together in their Preventers Uniforms, he looks at the slant of WuFei's eyes, the angle of his nose. He knows so little of what was going on behind those ebony eyes.
The memorial is smaller than Duo thought it would be, with Quatre planning it. When he gets up to speak, he can't stop the burning ache in his throat. Even with Heero beside him, he can't stop his eyes form leaking saltwater. He can't stop his voice from cracking or angry blotches of red forming on his skin. He forces the words past reluctant lips and he rests his gaze on Sally and Zechs and Quatre and Trowa and the tears fall freely between them all.
He can't say anything profound or deep. All he can say is the truth. Heero finishes the tribute and the depth of feeling in his voice amazes Duo. He is amazed by the sheer amount of words spoken.
Duo sits through the rest of the service in a haze. The sunglasses he wears to hide his eyes are fogged up completely and Duo appreciates the connection to his thoughts.
Everyone is crying at the church. The funeral is packed. WuFei would hate it.
Heero wants nothing but Duo underneath him, begging and broken. Nothing but the quiet begging and frantic moans can soothe his ache.
Heero's movements cannot be more different than those of the last time they made love. Duo is arranged into complex positions for Heero to take his pleasure.
Everything is needy and anxious between them now. Duo knows that it is one of Heero's many cryptic ways to say 'I love you.' Duo understands this and lets himself be taken as harshly and frantically as Heero needs.
Duo is ashamed when he finds this to be a good thing.
He is sitting in their room, weeks later, when it hits him.
He cannot finish the level of the newest martial arts video game, and he reaches for the vidphone to call WuFei.
All of the memories flood into his brain and he tries to shut them out. Colors, sights, smells, emotions, he is overwhelmed.
Duo can't remember a time before then that he has cried so many tears without his cheeks feeling the slightest bit of moisture.
Heero walks through the front door and sinks to the floor, wrapping his arms around Duo's shuddering body.
They sit like that for a long time. Duo slowly lifts his head from Heero's hopelessly wrinkled shirt and smiles, a real smile.
Heero just holds him tighter.