Just A Man © Faith No More
ShinKidouSenki Gundam Wing © Sunrise, Sotsou, and other agencies.
This story © Marin Katrine Ayanashi. ~ September 28, 2001
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Warnings: Shounen ai, yaoi(?) lime, language. 2x1
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I looked out the window, and realized just how clear the sky was. It was like staring out into an eternal abyss, something I'd never really noticed before about space. Sure, there were the faint shimmers of sparkling stars here and there, but the entire blackness was mostly occupied by nothing. And that's what space is, right? Just a nothingness. A void. There is no air, no light, no life, nothing... It's just nothing.
That's just about how I feel right now. I feel like nothing. I feel sick just thinking about being myself. I've killed so many people. So many faces race through my mind. They're covered with blood. I did that to them. I can never make up for that, can I? Though shalt not murder. Well, fuck you too, then. I'll be fine with going to Hell. I was destined for it anyway...
Sky is clear tonight
Sky is clear tomorrow
Just when I think I can get no more depressed, I hear the door to my room aboard the ship slide open with an airy hiss. I don't bother to turn around. I know that it's Heero almost immediately. I always get this particular feeling whenever he walks into any room. I instantly know it's him. It's almost as if we're connected somehow, psychically, that is. I seem to always know where he is, especially when he enters my room. Well, that, and I can see his reflection in the window glass.
The softly illuminating blue fluorescent lights I have switched on cast a shiny gleam on his hair. It makes his skin seem to glow in the luminescence. His white T-shirt glows too, but not as bright as his eyes. They seem to almost glow. Not the blue, but the white around the irises practically glares into the back of my head where he's staring. I wonder if he realizes I'm looking right at him in the reflection. He doesn't seem to. I hope he doesn't. I just want to look at him uninterrupted right now. He's like one of those stars that are glimmering so dully out in space. The room is dark, and he seems to be one of the only lights. And not just the light of his reflecting skin and clothing. I'm talking about the light that shines from the inside out. The light of his innocent soul. Yeah, so what if I think he has an innocent soul? His soul certainly is unbelievably pure and clean compared to mine. I willingly kill people. I practically chose this path of my life. Heero, though. he was raised into it. He knows not what he does, and isn't that the exact definition of innocence?
A star is out
I reach for one to sparkle in my hand
A star is out
I will not touch you, I am just a man
"Hn," he sort of grunts at me in a strangely friendly manner. He could have just said, "hi," but this is Heero I'm talking about. I should never expect even a casual conversation starter.
I act surprised and suddenly straighten my back, throwing my gaze quickly from his reflection in the glass back out to space and the slowly pulsing glow of the stars. "What's up?" I question almost nonchalantly. I wonder if he picked up on the tenseness of my voice.
I'm staring at the darkness again. It's so clear...
Sky is clear tonight
Sky is clear tomorrow
"You've been in your room for two hours now," he finally answers. God forbid he should ever ask the question of why. Yeah, so what if I want to be alone. I'm only human. I get nostalgic and even depressed sometimes too. I just wanted to be away from all the noise outside my hideaway of a room so that I can concentrate on my thoughts and how sick of a person I am.
"I'm just thinking, I guess."
I can feel my eyes aching to return their focus on him, on his highlighted presence. The very light of his being is enough to blind me. Instead of giving in to temptation, I decidedly shut them. My eyes will not betray me tonight. Too many times has he caught me casting an affectionate glance in his direction. Should he ever gain the knowledge of love and lust and all of those humanly emotions that he has been devoid of for so long, he may just start to suspect something in my eyes.
That, and he's just too pure for a dark soul like mine to look at. How can I compare with someone like him? He's just so... Heero... so... perfect.
- And every night I shut my eyes
So I don't have to see the light
Shining so bright
I'll dream about a cloudy sky, a cloudy sky
"About what?" I can feel my bed shift slightly as he sits down close, a little too close. I can almost feel his body touching mine; his hips barely grazing my socked feet that are tucked underneath me as I lean against the wall and stare out the small circular window of the ship. I almost don't want to answer him. I just want to relish him being close to me, like I always do. But, hey, the guy asked an actual question. Perhaps he's actually wanting to know what's on my mind, and it's not just a well- trained response. Hell, who am I kidding? As if Heero would have been trained in the art of conversational skills. If he was, then whoever trained him did a shit-ass job of it and should be shot.
"Just space, I guess. Did you ever notice how... clear it is?"
He just seems to stare at me a moment. Me, or out the window, I really can't tell, considering I'm forcing my eyes not to look at his reflection so close to mine in the glass. "Yes. It's like staring into eternity, isn't it?"
How can he never cease to amaze me? Now he seems to have the uncanny ability to read my mind. Probably part of his mental training. Telepathy. I would probably laugh to myself at the notion, were I not in such a crappy mood right now. I'm not really depressed, just really deep in thought, I guess. I usually seem really depressed to others when I do that. Probably because I loose that all-too-comforting and expected smile I always have.
"Yeah. So many possibilities in eternity..."
I cast a glance at his reflection, thinking he's going to make a weird face at my peculiar statement. He doesn't. He almost smiles. "What sort of things would you do with an eternity, Duo?"
"What I've always wanted to do, but never had the time, I suppose."
"Like?"
I actually give this a moment's thought, tossing out a few odd ideas in my mind. None of them really seem like things I'm truly aching to do. Buy my own house and live a normal life. Sure, but that could get old. I'd probably go stir crazy and have to leave eventually. Maybe get myself a nice vehicle. One that turns heads. Everyone wants that. But what's the big deal? Eventually the parts will wear out and have to be replaced. The repairs would end up costing more than the vehicle itself. Maybe just go back in time and change my ways. Never get involved with piloting a Gundam and willingly condemning myself to Hell. But what's so great about the normal life that everyone else seems to be living? Plain, simple and boring. No, the only thing that really stands out in my mind and doesn't seem totally pointless is love. Yeah. That's right. Love. The big word that can cause poets to spill out millions of phrases and rhymes. The word that can inspire artists to paint, singers to sing, writers to write... people to cry. How can a word that encompasses such a mammoth feeling be contained within four tiny little letters? It seems so impossible.
"Duo?"
I nearly shake my head and turn towards him, my eyes probably wide with surprise. I'd nearly forgotten he was here. "What?"
"Is something... wrong? You seem..." He almost quirks his face, searching for the right word, I guess. "...distracted."
Distracted. That's a new one. "I am."
"With what?"
"Nothing in particular." I pick at the thin wool blanket on my bed. I hate it when blankets get those little fuzz balls on them after you wash them. I throw one to the floor. It merely floats away in the near zero gravity environment.
He stares at me. I really should talk to him about what I'm feeling, but Jesus, how do you go about doing that? Expressing feelings has been something that has begrudged and troubled mankind since nearly the beginning of time. How am I expected to sort out what I'm feeling and tell him precisely how I feel, when so many millions of people have had the same dilemma and never found the solutions?
He actually slides closer to me. Probably taking a leap of faith in the jump towards human nature acquisition. Calculating and precise... Hell, what am I doing? The guy is actually trying to carry on a worded conversation with me for once, and I'm not doing anything. Now's my chance... Now's the time to make take my own leap of faith.
I do just that. I take a leap of faith, just as he's opening his mouth to say something. I interrupt him.
"Man was born to love -
Though often he has sought
Like Icarus, to fly too high.
And far too lonely than he ought
To kiss the sum of east and west
And hold the world at his behest -
To hold the terrible power
To whom only gods are blessed -
But me, I am just a man"
He stares at me as if I'd just recited my allegiance to OZ. He slowly lifts one eyebrow. I lift one in return. Damn my mouth to Hell.
"To kiss the sum of East and West?" is all he says. Shoot me right now if he understood the hidden meaning of that little poem. Hell, yes, I want to kiss him, but he feels so far from my grasp. So much better than I am. I'm just a man...
I turn away from him and look out the window again, almost feeling ashamed. I suppose in a way, I just admitted my hidden feeling for him, but it wasn't direct, and I doubt he got the hint. I can see his reflection in the glass again, the puzzled look as he stares at the back of my head, his entire face still illuminated by the blue lights... I can hardly stand it anymore. I close my eyes in near shame.
- And every night I shut my eyes
So I don't have to see the light
Shining so bright
I'll dream about a cloudy sky, a cloudy sky
I feel his hand resting on my back suddenly. It's softly hovering, the fingertips barely applying enough pressure for me to notice. It's there, though. I'm not dreaming it. His hand is sliding up my back to my neck. It picks up my braid of hair and my eyes snap open as another hand shimmers down the length of it, stroking it like a master would its pet. If I were a cat, I'd be purring. I turn only my head, so that I'm looking at him over my shoulder. His eyes lock on mine. My heart nearly stops. He's not scowling. His eyebrows aren't furrowed together in concentration like they normally are. He's so beautiful right now. He looks almost believably content. Jesus Christ, if my braid is all he needs to look like that, I'd damn near be ready to cut it off and give it to him as a present, just to see that face all the time. He's smiling now. No, not really smiling. One side of his mouth is nearly curling upwards.
A smirk that can be read as so many things. I'm too blind to care that it could even be a snarl he's showing me. He looks gorgeous doing it. That's when my brain stops working and something that I've tried determinedly hard to repress takes control of my body: hormones. I turn fully around and grab his face in my hands, not caring to notice the near-shock look his face suddenly contorts into before I shut my eyes tight and kiss him. His mouth falls open, probably from shock, but damnit, I'm taking it as an invitation. I slide my tongue into his mouth and lick his, pulling it into my mouth and sucking on it. I probably damn near sucked the air out of his lungs doing it, but he tastes so good, I don't care. He doesn't seem to be responding. Probably in extreme shock. I'm going to get all I can, then, before he draws back and hits me a good one in the face, or something. I do anything to his mouth that I can. I bite at his lip, I suck on it, I lick the roof of his mouth, I damn near gag him with my tongue. Oh, but when I feel his hand suddenly plant itself firmly on the small of my back, and notice his mouth actually moving in response, I no longer have the courage to do anything. He's actually responding to my kiss? He actually likes it?
And when I feel his hand finally slide down and tug at my shirt, and I'm sure I'm not dreaming, I gain back some courage and tug at his while I lean forward and push him onto his back on the bed that immediately responds to wrap itself around our bodies for protection. I love soft beds...
I pull his shirt up to his neck and he raises his arms so that I can get it over his head before tossing it aside. I dare not open my eyes. It may ruin the whole thing. I keep them closed and continue to attack his mouth with ferocious hunger. So many times before I've wanted to do this. I'm actually doing it now, and it's better than I could have imagined. The taste... the smell... strikingly erotic feel of his hands sliding all over my body as mine slide over his... I'm in Heaven.
I open my eyes finally, and he's still there. He's giving in to my every will eagerly. Never did I dream that he would willingly, if not helpfully, allow me to do the things to him that I'm doing now. I may be damned to Hell when I die. Maybe that's fate. A murderer will surely go to Hell. Thou shalt not kill. But, hey, while I've got the time... while I'm still alive... I may as well enjoy Heaven on Earth. If Heero's body contorting underneath mine as I tenderly kiss the back of his neck and conjoin our intimate body parts in the most intimate ways, then I have no fucking idea what Heaven is.
And every night I shut my eyes
But now I've got them open wide
You've fallen into my hands
And now you're burning me
You're burning me
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Well, I tried to conquer my writer's block that's been plagueing me for, oh... ::thinks:: about a MONTH now! God, I don't think I did it. If I could just... Just... ::rips hair out, screaming like a member of the band 'Jack Off Jill':: I hate having writer's block... ::falls onto the keyboard mumbling about pineapples running America in place of the president::
O.o Owari????????????
ShinKidouSenki Gundam Wing © Sunrise, Sotsou, and other agencies.
This story © Marin Katrine Ayanashi. ~ September 28, 2001
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warnings: Shounen ai, yaoi(?) lime, language. 2x1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I looked out the window, and realized just how clear the sky was. It was like staring out into an eternal abyss, something I'd never really noticed before about space. Sure, there were the faint shimmers of sparkling stars here and there, but the entire blackness was mostly occupied by nothing. And that's what space is, right? Just a nothingness. A void. There is no air, no light, no life, nothing... It's just nothing.
That's just about how I feel right now. I feel like nothing. I feel sick just thinking about being myself. I've killed so many people. So many faces race through my mind. They're covered with blood. I did that to them. I can never make up for that, can I? Though shalt not murder. Well, fuck you too, then. I'll be fine with going to Hell. I was destined for it anyway...
Sky is clear tonight
Sky is clear tomorrow
Just when I think I can get no more depressed, I hear the door to my room aboard the ship slide open with an airy hiss. I don't bother to turn around. I know that it's Heero almost immediately. I always get this particular feeling whenever he walks into any room. I instantly know it's him. It's almost as if we're connected somehow, psychically, that is. I seem to always know where he is, especially when he enters my room. Well, that, and I can see his reflection in the window glass.
The softly illuminating blue fluorescent lights I have switched on cast a shiny gleam on his hair. It makes his skin seem to glow in the luminescence. His white T-shirt glows too, but not as bright as his eyes. They seem to almost glow. Not the blue, but the white around the irises practically glares into the back of my head where he's staring. I wonder if he realizes I'm looking right at him in the reflection. He doesn't seem to. I hope he doesn't. I just want to look at him uninterrupted right now. He's like one of those stars that are glimmering so dully out in space. The room is dark, and he seems to be one of the only lights. And not just the light of his reflecting skin and clothing. I'm talking about the light that shines from the inside out. The light of his innocent soul. Yeah, so what if I think he has an innocent soul? His soul certainly is unbelievably pure and clean compared to mine. I willingly kill people. I practically chose this path of my life. Heero, though. he was raised into it. He knows not what he does, and isn't that the exact definition of innocence?
A star is out
I reach for one to sparkle in my hand
A star is out
I will not touch you, I am just a man
"Hn," he sort of grunts at me in a strangely friendly manner. He could have just said, "hi," but this is Heero I'm talking about. I should never expect even a casual conversation starter.
I act surprised and suddenly straighten my back, throwing my gaze quickly from his reflection in the glass back out to space and the slowly pulsing glow of the stars. "What's up?" I question almost nonchalantly. I wonder if he picked up on the tenseness of my voice.
I'm staring at the darkness again. It's so clear...
Sky is clear tonight
Sky is clear tomorrow
"You've been in your room for two hours now," he finally answers. God forbid he should ever ask the question of why. Yeah, so what if I want to be alone. I'm only human. I get nostalgic and even depressed sometimes too. I just wanted to be away from all the noise outside my hideaway of a room so that I can concentrate on my thoughts and how sick of a person I am.
"I'm just thinking, I guess."
I can feel my eyes aching to return their focus on him, on his highlighted presence. The very light of his being is enough to blind me. Instead of giving in to temptation, I decidedly shut them. My eyes will not betray me tonight. Too many times has he caught me casting an affectionate glance in his direction. Should he ever gain the knowledge of love and lust and all of those humanly emotions that he has been devoid of for so long, he may just start to suspect something in my eyes.
That, and he's just too pure for a dark soul like mine to look at. How can I compare with someone like him? He's just so... Heero... so... perfect.
- And every night I shut my eyes
So I don't have to see the light
Shining so bright
I'll dream about a cloudy sky, a cloudy sky
"About what?" I can feel my bed shift slightly as he sits down close, a little too close. I can almost feel his body touching mine; his hips barely grazing my socked feet that are tucked underneath me as I lean against the wall and stare out the small circular window of the ship. I almost don't want to answer him. I just want to relish him being close to me, like I always do. But, hey, the guy asked an actual question. Perhaps he's actually wanting to know what's on my mind, and it's not just a well- trained response. Hell, who am I kidding? As if Heero would have been trained in the art of conversational skills. If he was, then whoever trained him did a shit-ass job of it and should be shot.
"Just space, I guess. Did you ever notice how... clear it is?"
He just seems to stare at me a moment. Me, or out the window, I really can't tell, considering I'm forcing my eyes not to look at his reflection so close to mine in the glass. "Yes. It's like staring into eternity, isn't it?"
How can he never cease to amaze me? Now he seems to have the uncanny ability to read my mind. Probably part of his mental training. Telepathy. I would probably laugh to myself at the notion, were I not in such a crappy mood right now. I'm not really depressed, just really deep in thought, I guess. I usually seem really depressed to others when I do that. Probably because I loose that all-too-comforting and expected smile I always have.
"Yeah. So many possibilities in eternity..."
I cast a glance at his reflection, thinking he's going to make a weird face at my peculiar statement. He doesn't. He almost smiles. "What sort of things would you do with an eternity, Duo?"
"What I've always wanted to do, but never had the time, I suppose."
"Like?"
I actually give this a moment's thought, tossing out a few odd ideas in my mind. None of them really seem like things I'm truly aching to do. Buy my own house and live a normal life. Sure, but that could get old. I'd probably go stir crazy and have to leave eventually. Maybe get myself a nice vehicle. One that turns heads. Everyone wants that. But what's the big deal? Eventually the parts will wear out and have to be replaced. The repairs would end up costing more than the vehicle itself. Maybe just go back in time and change my ways. Never get involved with piloting a Gundam and willingly condemning myself to Hell. But what's so great about the normal life that everyone else seems to be living? Plain, simple and boring. No, the only thing that really stands out in my mind and doesn't seem totally pointless is love. Yeah. That's right. Love. The big word that can cause poets to spill out millions of phrases and rhymes. The word that can inspire artists to paint, singers to sing, writers to write... people to cry. How can a word that encompasses such a mammoth feeling be contained within four tiny little letters? It seems so impossible.
"Duo?"
I nearly shake my head and turn towards him, my eyes probably wide with surprise. I'd nearly forgotten he was here. "What?"
"Is something... wrong? You seem..." He almost quirks his face, searching for the right word, I guess. "...distracted."
Distracted. That's a new one. "I am."
"With what?"
"Nothing in particular." I pick at the thin wool blanket on my bed. I hate it when blankets get those little fuzz balls on them after you wash them. I throw one to the floor. It merely floats away in the near zero gravity environment.
He stares at me. I really should talk to him about what I'm feeling, but Jesus, how do you go about doing that? Expressing feelings has been something that has begrudged and troubled mankind since nearly the beginning of time. How am I expected to sort out what I'm feeling and tell him precisely how I feel, when so many millions of people have had the same dilemma and never found the solutions?
He actually slides closer to me. Probably taking a leap of faith in the jump towards human nature acquisition. Calculating and precise... Hell, what am I doing? The guy is actually trying to carry on a worded conversation with me for once, and I'm not doing anything. Now's my chance... Now's the time to make take my own leap of faith.
I do just that. I take a leap of faith, just as he's opening his mouth to say something. I interrupt him.
"Man was born to love -
Though often he has sought
Like Icarus, to fly too high.
And far too lonely than he ought
To kiss the sum of east and west
And hold the world at his behest -
To hold the terrible power
To whom only gods are blessed -
But me, I am just a man"
He stares at me as if I'd just recited my allegiance to OZ. He slowly lifts one eyebrow. I lift one in return. Damn my mouth to Hell.
"To kiss the sum of East and West?" is all he says. Shoot me right now if he understood the hidden meaning of that little poem. Hell, yes, I want to kiss him, but he feels so far from my grasp. So much better than I am. I'm just a man...
I turn away from him and look out the window again, almost feeling ashamed. I suppose in a way, I just admitted my hidden feeling for him, but it wasn't direct, and I doubt he got the hint. I can see his reflection in the glass again, the puzzled look as he stares at the back of my head, his entire face still illuminated by the blue lights... I can hardly stand it anymore. I close my eyes in near shame.
- And every night I shut my eyes
So I don't have to see the light
Shining so bright
I'll dream about a cloudy sky, a cloudy sky
I feel his hand resting on my back suddenly. It's softly hovering, the fingertips barely applying enough pressure for me to notice. It's there, though. I'm not dreaming it. His hand is sliding up my back to my neck. It picks up my braid of hair and my eyes snap open as another hand shimmers down the length of it, stroking it like a master would its pet. If I were a cat, I'd be purring. I turn only my head, so that I'm looking at him over my shoulder. His eyes lock on mine. My heart nearly stops. He's not scowling. His eyebrows aren't furrowed together in concentration like they normally are. He's so beautiful right now. He looks almost believably content. Jesus Christ, if my braid is all he needs to look like that, I'd damn near be ready to cut it off and give it to him as a present, just to see that face all the time. He's smiling now. No, not really smiling. One side of his mouth is nearly curling upwards.
A smirk that can be read as so many things. I'm too blind to care that it could even be a snarl he's showing me. He looks gorgeous doing it. That's when my brain stops working and something that I've tried determinedly hard to repress takes control of my body: hormones. I turn fully around and grab his face in my hands, not caring to notice the near-shock look his face suddenly contorts into before I shut my eyes tight and kiss him. His mouth falls open, probably from shock, but damnit, I'm taking it as an invitation. I slide my tongue into his mouth and lick his, pulling it into my mouth and sucking on it. I probably damn near sucked the air out of his lungs doing it, but he tastes so good, I don't care. He doesn't seem to be responding. Probably in extreme shock. I'm going to get all I can, then, before he draws back and hits me a good one in the face, or something. I do anything to his mouth that I can. I bite at his lip, I suck on it, I lick the roof of his mouth, I damn near gag him with my tongue. Oh, but when I feel his hand suddenly plant itself firmly on the small of my back, and notice his mouth actually moving in response, I no longer have the courage to do anything. He's actually responding to my kiss? He actually likes it?
And when I feel his hand finally slide down and tug at my shirt, and I'm sure I'm not dreaming, I gain back some courage and tug at his while I lean forward and push him onto his back on the bed that immediately responds to wrap itself around our bodies for protection. I love soft beds...
I pull his shirt up to his neck and he raises his arms so that I can get it over his head before tossing it aside. I dare not open my eyes. It may ruin the whole thing. I keep them closed and continue to attack his mouth with ferocious hunger. So many times before I've wanted to do this. I'm actually doing it now, and it's better than I could have imagined. The taste... the smell... strikingly erotic feel of his hands sliding all over my body as mine slide over his... I'm in Heaven.
I open my eyes finally, and he's still there. He's giving in to my every will eagerly. Never did I dream that he would willingly, if not helpfully, allow me to do the things to him that I'm doing now. I may be damned to Hell when I die. Maybe that's fate. A murderer will surely go to Hell. Thou shalt not kill. But, hey, while I've got the time... while I'm still alive... I may as well enjoy Heaven on Earth. If Heero's body contorting underneath mine as I tenderly kiss the back of his neck and conjoin our intimate body parts in the most intimate ways, then I have no fucking idea what Heaven is.
And every night I shut my eyes
But now I've got them open wide
You've fallen into my hands
And now you're burning me
You're burning me
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Well, I tried to conquer my writer's block that's been plagueing me for, oh... ::thinks:: about a MONTH now! God, I don't think I did it. If I could just... Just... ::rips hair out, screaming like a member of the band 'Jack Off Jill':: I hate having writer's block... ::falls onto the keyboard mumbling about pineapples running America in place of the president::
O.o Owari????????????