Uh ohhhh! My first One Shot Sunday! :D BIG THANKS to Miss-Murdered who gave me the confidence to post this sucker. I've been sitting on it for two months debating on whether I wanted to or not. So if you don't like it, blame someone else haha! ;-P
Title: One Last Kiss
Author: ELLE
Pairings/Warnings: 1x2, angst, SEX, language, alcohol, cheating, and borderline abusive situations
Notes: Soooo there's this radio station I listen to that I call the "Pink Station" because they basically play all of her songs every hour and after listening to them every frickin' time I get in the car I'm pretty much convinced every one of them could've been written about Heero and Duo. This one is loosely based on her song "Blow Me (One Last Kiss)." Not putting a ton of lyrics in because I didn't really want this to be a song fic, since I'm apparently too weak to do the song accurately. But if you listen to it, you'll see a correlation. =P
White knuckles and sweaty palms from hanging on too tight
Clenched shut jaw, I've got another headache again tonight
Eyes on fire, eyes on fire, and they burn from all the tears
I've been crying, I've been crying, I've been dying over you
– Pink, "Blow Me (One Last Kiss)"
TGIF and all that good stuff.
Duo had to stay a bit late at the office to finish up a suspect profile they'd need on the weekend shift so he thoughtfully picked up sushi from their favorite place on the way home. He had told Heero not to wait for him and he didn't protest. He didn't blink. He didn't even shrug. He turned and walked out of his office.
Great way to make ya feel all warm and fuzzy, Duo thought pessimistically and shivered a bit against the cold. Heero had taken the car, not that Duo cared to walk, but it was winter and this almost freezing crap was getting to him. He was getting soft.
Duo slipped easily into their building and fervently hoped that Heero would be in a relatively good mood. It had been three years since the war and rehabilitation hadn't been easy – for either of them. Yeah, working with the Preventers afforded them the ability to use their unique skill set once in a while, but mostly it was red tape and paperwork and office politics. Shit that neither of them were really cut out for long term. Duo, at least, had a relatively easy time interacting with people. Heero...
He cut his man a lot of slack. At this point, he knew all of Heero's past he ever was going to, and it was less than pleasant – to say the least. Even more than that, it alienated him from people in a way that Duo couldn't even begin to comprehend. He grew up virtually alone and the few adults he had in his life abandoned him through cowardice or death. The first thing he ever had that he could consider a friend was Duo himself, and he was fifteen by the time they met. That was a long fucking time to be alone.
Duo shook his head to clear his thoughts and began his ascent up the stairs to the top floor. Yeah, people died all around him as a kid too, but at least he had them for a moment. He had Solo, kids his age, a surrogate family that actually cared. How could you ever relate to anyone when for all intents and purposes you had no one to relate to?
He knocked a special knock on the door – hey, old habits died hard, and he'd rather do a stupid knock for the rest of his life than find himself at the wrong end of Heero's FN again – and unlocked their door, slipping in and immediately finding his heart at the pit of his stomach. The whole apartment was dark, not unusual, and Heero sat in a rather plain recliner in the corner of the room by the window where he could stare out at the city and note the door at the same time. Also, not unusual. But the smell of alcohol was what made Duo's heart drop and he knew exactly what he'd find when he switched on the lights. Those dark eyes almost dared him to hit the switch as they shone through the blackness, pinned to his figure in a haughty challenge.
Duo drew in a deep breath, flipped on the lights, and smacked the biggest smile he had available across his face. He held up the bagged sushi in it's three clamshell containers and shook it a second, enticingly, noting that Heero went straight for the bottle this time, not even bothering with the little set of glasses Duo had purchased him a year or so ago.
"It's from Moshi!" he chimed optimistically, wondering if he could make it through this night without an... altercation.
Heero just followed him with his eyes as he walked into the kitchen, sectioned off with no more than a breakfast bar, and started unwrapping their food, placing it fancily on platters for effect. They hadn't been on a date on a Friday night in... years...? But Duo was okay with that. Really. He didn't need that kind of attention and he knew how uncomfortable it made Heero and anyway they'd almost always had a hard week and just wanted to rest.
Carefully he carried the platters into the living room and placed them on the coffee table, going back for more, and then repeating the process a third time for chopsticks and a little bit of sake for himself. He handed Heero a plate and in silence they placed different pieces on their plates and ate. Duo wished he could let his guard down and relax, but based on his (hopefully unnoticed) inspection of the whiskey, he doubted he was getting through this night unscathed.
Oh, Duo had tried to get rid of it. Once. And that was one of the bigger mistakes he'd made in their relationship – and he'd made plenty. He didn't really know what he was going to do about the drinking long term but vaguely hope Heero gets over himself and moves beyond it. Surely he couldn't be an alcoholic. For fucks sake, he was just a kid still, really, and a Gundam pilot and he saved the whole fucking world – twice – and he couldn't really succumb to some manmade liquid.
Right?
But Duo pushed those dark thoughts from his mind. He had to at least try to stay optimistic – for both of them. He would carry Heero's weight as far as he had to, until his dying breath.
Duo popped the last piece in his mouth with a satisfied smile, swallowing with approval. Heero had set his plate down a few minutes ago, letting Duo finish it off. He wasn't under some illusion that Heero did this out of kindness. No, he knew Heero had calculated the calories of each piece and decided on which pieces he would eat to fulfill his caloric requirement that day and that left Duo to polish off the rest. Not that Duo minded. Worked out in his favor every time.
Heero fingered the bottle on his knee slowly, rolling it back and forth as he watched Duo. That intensity... It made Duo shiver – not unlike the cold outside. He waited patiently for the shoe to drop. Inevitably, it would. He knew it. He could tell by the look in those eyes...
Despite what Heero might have thought, Duo knew him. Knew him inside and out. Knew him better than anyone else ever had. But that was just it. Heero couldn't possibly know what that meant. No one had ever known him like this.
Carefully he picked up the finished dishes and threw them in the dishwasher. Heero knew how much he hated that chore and always unloaded it as soon as he got home from work so Duo never had to worry about it. For so long Duo had clung to little things like that...
For a brief moment he paused, staring at the sink. What did he want to do? Say something and risk incurring his wrath or stay awkwardly silent until Heero said whatever dumb thing was on his mind? Either way the end result would be the same.
Without really thinking about it, he twisted the sink handles to make sure they wouldn't drip and turned to lean on the breakfast bar. He met Heero's eyes with what he hoped wasn't a pained expression, but he couldn't help but silently beg him please. Please not tonight.
"What happened on the McKenzie case?" Finally the hard words cut through the thickness of their silence like a knife. Duo stared down at his fingernails for a minute, picking at them absently before lifting his head again with an embarrassed grin.
"So 'Fei told you about that, huh?" His words were light but in the back of his head he was cursing the Chinese man for ever opening his pert little mouth. But, then again, if it wasn't this... Duo knew it would be something else.
"How'd you let that slip by you?" The critical words never failed to cut Duo deep. The fact that Heero saw him as a disappointment slammed him back to four years ago when he was unwittingly rescuing him from a prison cell, dragging him along like the pathetic failure he was, painfully aware of what a burden he was. To this day he never understood why Heero didn't pull the trigger... Oh, he convinced himself it was many things over the years, but in moments like this his conviction wavered and he wondered, wouldn't it have been better...?
He stopped the thought and sighed. "Look, man, I'll just quit. Obviously this working together thing just doesn't jive for us." It wasn't an empty threat. Duo would do it. The Preventers job didn't mean as much to him as Heero did. Yeah, it'd blow not to be near his friends anymore, but if it improved their relationship... well, there was really nothing he wouldn't do.
"No," Heero said firmly, just like every time Duo'd made the offer. "You're better than that. You should've caught it."
Oh, there were plenty of things Duo could've replied with. Top on the list was, 'maybe if you'd cut me some damn slack and I could get some decent sleep for one fucking night it'd be a little easier to do my job...'
Duo didn't realize he'd actually uttered those words until he saw the undercurrent of anger rip through Heero's face. It was just a flinch, but Duo knew. And he realized with a sinking sadness that he didn't really regret the words because when it came right down to it, they were the truth.
Heero stood then, setting the bottle down on the table. "So you want me to leave?" The words were simple but after dealing with this day in and day out they brought hot tears to Duo's eyes. It wasn't an empty threat either. All Duo had to do was say the word... but he never would. He was sure Heero knew that. He was sure Heero just wanted to hear him beg.
'That's not what I said." He felt his voice tremble and knew he was so, so close to losing control.
Those cool blue eyes just stared back, dead, unbelieving.
"I don't want you to leave, Heero," Duo repeated, a bit of a desperate tone taking over his voice. "I just want you to lighten up for once. You know? Let it go, for fucks sake. Put down that bottle."
"It is down," Heero stated and Duo felt his limbs start to shake, his unhappiness turning to rage more quickly than he could handle.
"But you drank half of it already!" he pointed out, hearing his voice rise quickly. "You gotta stop this shit, man! We can't keep doing this."
And then, Heero actually had the nerve to roll his eyes.
Duo's blood pressure hit the roof. "Maybe you don't think this is any big deal, but I live with your shit every fucking day!" he shouted at his partner, wishing there was a table he could upend or a chair he could throw to make his point. Instead he clutched his fists at his side, tense with explosive energy he begged himself to contain.
Heero scoffed. "Don't patronize me."
"Patronize you?" Duo asked in disbelief, reeling from the ridiculous statement. Patronize him? He was the one acting like this was no big deal. Like the past year was a walk through the fucking daisies...! "Maybe you should take your own fucking advice buddy." His fingers itched to pick something up, throw it against the wall, release some of this... this anger. But it was all gone. The decorative bowls and little figurines Duo bought when they'd first got the place all fell victim to their pent-up frustration.
"Do you even know what you do to me?" Duo asked, feeling secure in his position behind the bar. Heero hadn't stepped forward to approach him. Duo knew he'd never lay a hand on him, just stare at him with that stoic mask, acting like Duo was crazy, like his feelings were invalid, like... like he didn't really matter.
"This shit hurts me," he continued boldly. Yeah, they'd been through this song and dance before. The first time there were rare apologies. The second, kisses. The third, some elaborate scheme to make Duo forgive him involving pasta and chocolate. But by the twenty-seventh time Heero had given up because he wouldn't solve the real problem, just try to band-aid it away with distracting gestures of affection.
"I can't do this every day. I can't take the criticism. I can't take the shit we don't say to each other hanging over us. Fuck, Heero," Duo's voice had taken on an embarrassingly plaintive tone and the tears were back, threatening to disgrace him even further. "I just want you back."
The look Heero gave him was almost worse than any he had ever received from the dark haired man he knew so well. It was disgust.
And then he was moving to the closet, throwing on a coat before Duo could even blink. "I'm leaving," he said with little emotion and for one terrifying moment Duo thought he meant... but no. He didn't mean that. Surely. Just the night. Just tonight.
Right?
"You don't have to." Duo suddenly snapped, moving previously cemented feet towards the door. Towards Heero. "Please don't go," he begged, further humiliation no longer a concern of his, but the door was already open and the stormy figure slipping away. The door slammed shut automatically before Duo even reached it and he fell against it then, letting tears he'd long held back finally slip silently down his face.
He felt exhausted as wave after wave of sobs hit him and his knees buckled, forcing him to the floor. It was so easy to sit here and cry. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't their life. What... what happened?
They used to chase each other around the apartment, Duo remembered fondly, Heero's serious dedication to the task counteracted by Duo's maniacal laughter. Heero would catch him and slam him against the walls, kissing him with a furious passion that made Duo burn.
They would walk home together after work, Duo playfully trying to grab those nimble fingers that always slipped deftly through his grasp over and over until they were merely feet from their apartment. Then Heero would turn the game around, gripping Duo's hand for all the world like a lifeline.
Once they managed to get a junked up car, Heero would demand the keys on Fridays and he'd drive. Duo never knew where. Sometimes to the coast where they'd sit on the sand and stare at the stars, trying to name them all and making up names when they ran out of guesses. Sometimes they'd just ride endlessly around the city, pulling over in an alley and making out in the back, touching and feeling all those spots that made the other moan.
They used the lay in bed at night, sprawled out under cheap, scratchy sheets, and talk about the war. Their training. Everything that made them who they were. Sometimes Duo would break down thinking of everyone he'd lost. Sometimes Heero would too, over the things he never had. But it was safe in the dark and there was no judgment in the morning when light slipped through slats and they were forced to face the world again.
Maybe that was it. Maybe they knew everything there was to know about each other and there was nothing left. No surprise, no intrigue. Nothing left of him to keep Heero's interest.
After an indiscriminate amount of time passed, Duo found his shaky breathing had calmed and the aftermath of the cathartic release left him feeling almost normal for once. He studied his apartment, the tendrils of his loneliness creeping and slipping around him, their soft touches around his heart making it ache regrettably. Despite how often he felt alone with Heero sitting right next to him, he never realized how much more devastating it was when his partner was gone.
And then a renegade vengeance took hold of him as it never had before. Yeah, sure, he'd settled his score with Heero on more than one occasion, making the other man bend to his whims. It wasn't like Heero was the only one who'd ever used the threat of leaving. But this was different. This time it came with the deafening realization that he didn't have to do what Heero wanted all the damn time. If Heero was going to leave him alone on a Friday night, after he'd kindly brought him dinner, then he could find something he wanted to do. Something he hadn't done in years. Something to make him happy.
He stood then, resolution steadying his knees.
Quickly he stripped out of his combat ready Preventers' uniform and dug through his clothes until he found a loose fitting black button up and some tight jeans. He slid into the clothes, almost uncomfortable from unfamiliarity, and noted they were nearly too small. He glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror, pleased with how he'd filled out, really noticing it for the first time now.
But his smile slipped into a frown when he found himself wondering if that was it. Maybe Heero didn't find him attractive any more. Maybe...
Duo slid those thoughts to the back of his mind and slammed the door on them. He would not be deterred by negativity. He was going out on the town tonight – alone – and he would drink unendingly and act outrageously and laugh uproariously. He didn't need Heero any more than he needed Trowa or Wufei. He didn't need Heero. He didn't.
Right?
His constant uncertainly killed him and he unbuttoned his shirt to show his bare chest rebelliously.
Right.
"TGIF motherfuckers," he declared with a mischievous grin at his reflection.
Duo's head throbbed as he cracked open his eyes against the harsh light spilling into their bedroom. He didn't remember much about last night, so he was glad to see his own meager décor facing him. But quickly he realized that something was very, very wrong. It wasn't Heero's strong body next to him, arm flopped haphazardly over his torso. It was soft and... feminine.
He groaned as reality crashed through his skull and he shook the poor woman awake.
At least it was a woman. It was the only thing he could think.
At least it was a woman. No threat to Heero's masculinity.
At least it was a woman.
"You have to leave," he hissed at her, the desire to protect her from Heero's wrath surprising him.
"Huh?" she asked blurrily, her eyes blinking in confusion. They were blue, not unlike Heero's, but also so far from it – innocent and unassuming, not hard and mysterious. In fact as he looked her over he realized she looked quite similar. Vaguely Japanese, dark hair fashioned into a bob that fell into her eyes when she turned her head. Ugh. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
At least it was a woman.
"Fuck," he groaned as he heard their special knock and the door open. It was all over now. He didn't know what Heero would do.
At least it was a woman.
She seemed to figure out that shit was about to hit the fan and started throwing on her clothes but she was still only half dressed when the door opened and Heero assessed the situation laid out before him.
Duo's heart clenched in his chest as he watched something snap in Heero's face. A wave of sadness crashed over him and for a stupid moment he thought he might cry. He'd really done it this time. He'd hurt Heero in a way he might never be able to fix for something he barely remembered. It definitely wasn't worth it. He could justify no action that caused Heero to make that face.
"Get out." Heero forced through gritted teeth, furious eyes crushing her. He could actually see Heero's arms trembling against his rage, one finger pointed obviously towards the door as he stood between them and the exit.
She seemed totally immobilized, which surely only made Heero more angry. If such a thing were possible, Duo mused bleakly.
"Get. The. FUCK. OUT." Each word was punctuated in his fury. But thankfully it seemed to kick her into gear and she barely finished sliding her shirt down before she was quickly hauling ass out of there. Duo watched her go, knowing that as soon as the door was shut Heero's full attention would be on him.
And he couldn't explain.
"You have no one to blame but yourself!" Duo shouted at him suddenly, unable to believe the words were flying out of his mouth. He jumped out of bed, feeling ridiculously vulnerable in his naked state, using the bed as a buffer between them.
Heero didn't say anything, he just turned on Duo, seething. It was with a sick feeling that he realized he was actually pleased. Pleased to see Heero react this way. Pleased that he was jealous.
"You can't just ignore me like that!" he shouted again, purposefully egging Heero on, craving those jealous eyes more than anything.
Heero turned back, grabbing the door in both his hands and slamming it back into the door frame. He heard the hinges snap at the force of it as it ricocheted crazily back into the wall.
"But you can disrespect me?!"
The words were like daggers in his heart. He was sure he didn't intend this. He didn't know what he was thinking last night. He should've just stayed in. He should've just waited for Heero to come home, patiently, like –
No. NO. No. He wasn't going to do this anymore.
"I'll do what the fuck I want," Duo retorted, quickly crossing the distance between them to stand in front of him, slightly taller but definitely not as strong. But one thing he knew with absolute certainty was that no matter how angry Heero got, he would never raise a hand to him.
When Heero spoke again, his voice resonated with deep disappointment and disgust. "I hope she was good, you slut."
The words physically assaulted Duo and he felt his breath die in his chest. "What?" he asked, dangerously quiet, feeling a dark piece of him rise up from the past.
But Heero didn't answer, he just turned to walk out.
"Don't fucking walk out on me again!" Duo screamed, grabbing Heero's arm and flipping him back into the unhinged door. He heard Heero grunt softly from the force of the impact. "You can't fucking leave me when you don't feel like dealing with me!"
Heero wouldn't even look at him. The anger welling within Duo was compounded from years of being pushed down, molded, shaped until it formed a bludgeon that he was finally able to wield.
He might have been wrong, yeah, he'd admit it. And certainly he didn't set out with any intent to hurt Heero. But he couldn't feel completely responsible. If Heero hadn't walked out that night. If Heero just took him out once in a while. If Heero –
But it wasn't really Heero's fault. He knew that. It was his. But his anger didn't diminish. Even if he was mostly angry at himself.
"Fuck you Heero Yuy!" he growled then, slamming his fist forward to punch him. Heero caught it with effort so he twisted and used his momentum to smash his left fist forward, not really aiming in his blind rage. Heero shifted slightly and his fist sunk painfully into the door. He thought he felt something crack but he shook it off. He would land a blow.
Heero had released his right hand so he threw another punch, landing on Heero's shoulder. He didn't even flinch. Duo realized easily that he let the punch through and that the anger was fading out of the other man. This made him even more pissed. Why wasn't he worth fighting? Why wasn't he worth Heero's emotions?
"Fucking fight me!" He shouted the taunt, landing another blow on Heero's shoulder. Heero's eyes met his now and he could see the anger was still there, smoldering beneath his careful rules and personal regulations.
"I fucked a woman and that doesn't make you angry enough to hit me?!" Duo hit him again and those dark eyes clouded. Yeah, he was almost there.
"Hit me!" he goaded again, another punch. That arm had to be getting sore. The fog in Heero's eyes cleared and Duo saw the spark. Once more...
"Fucking HIT ME!" he bellowed, hitting him one last time before Heero snapped. The biggest surprise was that it surprised him at all. The crack on his cheek made black spots float in his vision and his mouth filled with the acidic taste of blood almost instantaneously. He reached up, touched his lips, and when he pulled back his hand it was covered in the warm, gooey shit. Unable to help himself, he started to laugh, spitting blood unintentionally. Finally!
He retaliated by throwing an elbow that intersected with the side of Heero's head. Heero returned without even hesitating by shifting his momentum back toward Duo, the back of his fist connecting with Duo's ribcage. Duo stumbled a bit, realizing that Heero was quite a bit stronger than he predicted. Apparently he'd gone easy on him in all their sparing practices. That kinda just pissed him off further.
Duo regained his footing quickly and swung wildly, missing his target completely, although he hadn't appropriately aimed. His own fault. But before he could reposition he felt the horrible sucking feeling of having all the wind knocked out of you as Heero's fist sunk into his gut. Without thinking he raked his hands furiously at Heero's face, missing every time, and suddenly he was completely immobilized and forced, hard, against the opposite wall. He gasped as the last of his breath escaped him and then –
His eyes widened in shock as Heero pressed his lips roughly against his. He couldn't breathe, his arms were pinned under Heero's iron grip, that rippling muscled body he knew so well pressing against his. Heero let go of his left hand, still stinging from its intersection with the door, and pressed his calloused fingers against Duo's throat as he released his kiss. Duo struggled desperately for breath as Heero stared down at him from underneath thick eyelids, studying him, blood covering his chin and lips from where he'd pushed them against Duo's cracked and bleeding ones.
Heero tilted his head back and forth a moment, inspecting him as he fought to regain control of his breathing. He wondered if he was measuring up to Heero's expectations. He wondered if Heero liked it, hitting him, or if he'd regret it later. He wondered –
His thoughts stopped as Heero pressed himself into him again, his hips rocking painfully against Duo's. But despite the pain he was feeling from the expertly placed hits he took, he found himself squirming against his captor. He could easily feel Heero's erection pressing into him through his pants and he moaned, almost despite himself, grasping at his pants with his fingers, weakly, since his arm was still trapped against the wall.
Heero growled as he pulled back from the kiss, dragging Duo forward by his throat slightly and slamming him back into the wall. Duo coughed, his throat constricted and pained by the grip. He knew in that moment what this was all about. Heero had to restate his dominance. Reclaim his property. Had to make sure Duo knew he was his.
Although part of him wanted to keep fighting, wanted to rebel against this horrendous treatment, wanted to scream that he was his own person and Heero didn't own him, he... couldn't. He found himself unwittingly getting hard for Heero, the heat of his hips and mouth overpowering him.
Suddenly Heero was twisting him around, throwing him onto the bed with excessive force. Duo just lay there with no further desire to challenge the other man. In the end, he'd fucked up. This was all his fault. If Heero needed to dominate him, needed him to lay prone and helpless so that he could feel strong again, that was fair enough. It was the least he could do.
Longingly he raked his eyes over Heero's body as he ripped off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. He couldn't help but appreciate the well-muscled form, the taunt stomach, the soft dark hair finally inching its way to his navel. Duo inhaled sharply as Heero released his hard dick from his pants. You'd think he'd never seen the thing before based on his reaction. It almost embarrassed him to see it hanging out at the crux of his unzippered jeans – but blushing would be the most astronomically horrifying thing Duo could possibly imagine so he took a few deep breaths instead, preparing himself for inevitable pain.
Heero slipped over him like a shadow, their cocks rubbing clandestinely between their bodies. Duo whimpered at their touch and shimmied helplessly underneath the bigger man, hoping his involuntary actions wouldn't be mistaken for an attempt to interfere with Heero's plan.
Pain shot through the back of Duo's skull as Heero twisted his braid around his hand, yanking his head up and to the side so he could bite down on the sensitive spots of Duo's neck.
"Heero." The soft murmur escaped his lips before he could help it and Heero shoved his head hard into the mattress for it. He bit his lip against the pain, knowing his neck would ache tomorrow morning. But unfortunately he forgot his split lip and the act only caused him more pain in the end – though he made sure not to cry out.
After another moment of being ravished, he found himself belly down on the bed, Heero's throbbing dick pressing between his ass checks. For a terrifying instant he thought Heero was going to force himself in dry. He would've sighed in relief when he realized Heero was fumbling with the nightstand for the lube if he wasn't absolutely certain Heero would change his plans at Duo's slightest interruption. Quietly he took a few deep breaths, trying to relax himself, and Heero slicked his fingers, testing Duo with them, making him throw his neck back involuntarily and groan.
Carefully and – dare he think it? – gently, Heero sheathed himself in Duo, pulling his hips up to meet him. The pain was pleasant and Duo let himself bury his head in the pillows as he moaned, unable to stop himself as Heero slid slightly back and forth, kindly giving him a moment to adjust to his entry.
And then his hips bucked involuntarily against Heero's as he wrapped skillful fingers around his wanton cock and stroked its length leisurely. Heero was always such a sweet and thoughtful lover. It was something for which he had no training and Duo liked to think it was a representation of his true self. What he might have been if he hadn't been warped by his childhood, his training, and the war. Everything they knew they'd learned from each other and it was a special bond they shared with no one else.
Until now.
Guilt oozed through every pore of his body as Heero played with him so tenderly, so lovingly. He quietly wondered if Heero could smell it intermixed with the sweat that drenched out of him. And then Duo knew – this wasn't about dominance at all. It wasn't about retaliation or ownership. Maybe Heero knew him better than he'd ever given the man credit for. He certainly knew how truly low Duo would feel under the hands of his most faithful lover.
Right?
Duo felt himself climax unwillingly and the word "fuck" rolled out of his mouth as cum slung across the sheets, the moment offering him no release from the painful grip sorrow and remorse wrapped him in. He felt his body clamp down with the power of his ejaculation and he felt Heero's cock grow sluggish against the force of it. Heero – his lover, his man, the only person he'd ever wanted – grunted then, mumbling his name as his hips bucked and his fingers compressed, pulling Duo tight to him. He waited a moment to catch his breath before he pulled out slowly and Duo sunk into the bed, wishing he could slip inside it and disappear.
Heero stood and Duo heard him pulling up his pants before moving around the room for his shirt. Duo couldn't bear to move, couldn't bear to look up. If God decided to strike him down at that very moment, it would've been a blessing.
"I told Trowa I'd help him out this weekend with an infiltration," Heero said quietly. There was no anger in his voice, no resentment, no pain. Just the easy monotone that Duo was quite accustomed to. "I won't be back until Monday night."
Duo said nothing. There was nothing to say. He wanted to run away and hide, leave this wretched planet and his shame behind him. Let Heero start over with someone who deserved him.
He heard the man walk out of the room and then pause. The footsteps grew nearer again and Heero hit the floorboard that creaked right outside the doorway and stopped. "Be here," he said simply and Duo couldn't even nod his head to acknowledge him. Then, in the faintest, tiniest, most faraway voice he'd ever heard Heero use he added a small, little "please."
And that was when Duo officially lost it. He'd realized by how wet his face was and that he'd been crying into the pillow, but now guilt-wracked sobs ripped through his body with the power of a hurricane. It was ugly crying at it's very worst. He desperately sucked in air and choked with every painful breath, fearing he would never stop crying. Heero was long gone, he was sure, but he wasn't sure if that made the scene better or worse. He wanted Heero to know the torturous pain he felt searing white hot through every inch of his body – but he also wanted to hide it all, stuff it back inside himself and act like everything was okay. Like nothing had happened. Like he was still worthy of Heero's affection.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been sobbing before he quieted to a pathetic whimper... but he was thankful when darkness overtook him and he slipped darkly into a deep and emotionless sleep.
When Duo eventually woke up the silence in the room was deafening. There was nothing he wanted more than for Heero to have been snoozing next to him... or at least in the next room, pounding away at his laptop. It was such a sick contradiction that in all his pain the only person who could make him feel better was the one person he could never ask for comfort. How could he, when he'd so grievously disrespected him? The pit in his stomach felt cavernous and he knew he would never be able to fill this one with food or beer. He wasn't even sure if it could be filled with time.
The thought of food made him nauseous but he wasn't sure if that was due to guilt or low blood sugar or even his drinking last night. He choked out one last sob as his stomach churned and he lurched wildly into the bathroom, thinking he was going to be sick. But a few deep breaths helped settle him as he stood at the sink, his arms locked out on the vanity to keep from falling.
After a minute had passed he dared a glance at himself in the mirror. His face was slathered in dried blood, his lips crusted over, and a bruise was starting to form on his cheek. Fucking great, he thought darkly. Like that wasn't going to warrant questions Monday.
He slipped into the shower and bid the warm water to wash him of his sins. His ribs ached, his gut ached, his hand ached, and, of course, his face ached. But none of those injuries seemed to hold a candle to the firey, sun-like inferno of his heart.
He trembled under the weight of his wet hair and the realization that there was no way he could ask Heero's forgiveness. The ex-pilot had know he would rather run than deal with the ramifications of his actions... and to be completely honest, he was still considering it. But after cleaning himself up and having a bite to eat, he set himself upon their apartment instead.
He cleaned with a fury he never had before. Usually cleaning was Heero's forte, unable to deal with the amount of mess it took before Duo felt the need to pick up a broom. But he threw himself into the task with all the force of someone trying to forget the past year of his life.
That weekend he vacuumed, dusted, mopped, did dishes, did laundry, rehinged the door, got his blood out of the carpet, went out and bought more of that stupid decorative shit he'd given up on almost six months ago, hopeful it might cheer Heero up. He got him a bag of citrus fruit as well, a delicacy on the colonies and something he favored above any dessert Duo might make. And he'd managed to find a few books Heero had been looking for – not the easiest task in a world of tablets – but their little library gave the man great pride and they were the only frivolous inanimate objects he'd ever seen Heero attached to.
And of course, despite his ability to get blood out of nearly anything, he threw their entire bedding set away and bought all new. He just didn't want to remember what he'd done on those sheets. He'd splurged a bit on the new, despite knowing how rough they could be with sheets, in the vain hope that Heero may appreciate it.
Then, at night, he knocked himself out with Valium so he could continue not to think.
When Monday rolled around his face had peeked in its ugliness and he hoped no one was stupid enough to ask about it. As soon as he got to HQ he snooped around on Trowa's case, learning that Heero would be back around midday. Then he spent the next few hours debating whether or not he wanted to see him before he went home to 'relax' from the mission. But when noon rolled around, after spending a day doing basically nothing but wading in the deep end of his mind, he got an unexpected call from Quatre.
"Hey Quat," he greeted, surprise evident in his voice. "No dignitaries to talk to, huh? Had to call little 'ol me so ya didn't get lonely?" Duo winked but the look on Quatre's face was one of shock.
"Duo!" he gasped, sounding horrified. "What happened to your face?"
Oh yeah, Duo thought with a sinking feeling. That.
"Would you believe I tripped down some stairs?" Duo asked with a big smile that pulled at his beat up face and he forced himself not to wince.
Quatre's eyes went wide and then narrowed in a rare moment of anger. "Heero did that to you?" The words died in the air, leaving an uncomfortable silence between the two friends.
"You know men," Duo offered, waving it off. "Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em."
He thought he heard Quatre curse under his breath. "Duo! This is serious!"
The smile fell off Duo's face and soberly he warned the blond, "this is none of your business."
"I don't care!" Quatre's sudden passion made Duo blink. Huh? Where was this coming from?
"I've been meaning to tell you this for a long time," he started carefully, those pale blue eyes looking forlorn. "Trowa has told me... things. How much Heero's been drinking, how you always look run down and tired, how you guys argue in the office, how... how he treats you." Duo was mortified that Quatre, all the way on L-fucking-4, knew all about their shit. He couldn't really blame Trowa for telling him, he was just pissed they'd let it get so bad they didn't even notice others noticing.
"There's nothing to worry about," Duo said weakly, knowing nothing he said would deter his friend's concern. "Really. I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself."
"No, Duo," Quatre said quietly. "That's not the point. Maybe you can take care of yourself... but you shouldn't have to. Heero should be taking care of you. Heero should..." the words trailed off and for a moment Quatre looked conflicted, like what he wanted to say was too painful to bear. Briefly Duo considered joking with him, asking if he was going to profess his undying love and steal him away from the dark ex-pilot, but thought better of it when he considered how serious Quatre was being.
"You should leave him." The rushed words scorched through Duo's brain as he fought not to consider them. He stared at the image of his friend in incredulous horror. How could he even suggest such a thing? Leave? And go... where? Do what?
"You should just leave him!" Duo could tell the repeated words hurt Quatre to say – he looked on the verge of tears. But they couldn't possibly hurt him as much as they hurt Duo. Quatre may as well have knifed him in the gut. His vision swam, tears he couldn't even believe he still had left blurred the screen before him completely. What the fuck was Quatre saying? He – he... And he just...
"Where do you get off?!" he demanded, running the back of his hand quickly across his eyes, willing his voice down from a panicked wail. "You don't know us. You don't know – You don't know how I deserved this!"
"Don't make excuses, Duo," Quatre begged. "I don't want to say these things to hurt you. I just want you to think about it. Could you be happier without him? Would you be better off if you left?"
Suddenly Duo found himself killing the connection and burying his head in his hands. For the next few minutes he watched the light flash on his computer as Quatre tried to get through again and again. But Duo had no intention of facing him like this. Eventually Quatre gave up and Duo just stared at the computer screen, devastated.
His best friend just told him to leave the only person he'd ever –
Two days ago he'd cheated on the only person he'd ever –
For months he suffered humiliation, degradation, put downs, and negativity at the hands of the only person he'd ever –
Why? Why did he do all of this? Quatre wasn't wrong to question it. And Quatre knew what it felt like, didn't he? It wasn't like this for him, was it? It wasn't... It wasn't an all-consuming, passionate, desperate, breathless fight for every glorious moment he got to be near him?
But he loved him.
He loved him with every fiber of his being. He loved him in a way he had never loved anyone before – not Solo, not Helen, not Maxwell, not Quatre. He loved him in his anger, in his insolence, in his weakness, in his fear. He loved him when he succeeded and he loved him when he failed. He loved him in those fleeting moments of his happiness and those long, endless moments of his sadness. He loved the big things about him – his overbearing personality, his dedication to perfection, his unreasonable expectations, his unending restlessness. And he loved the small things – the way his eyelashes fluttered for a moment when he awoke, the way his breath caught and his eyebrows twitched right before he came, the way he whispered his name in the dark...
How could he possibly leave someone he loved like that? Who knew everything about him – his dreams, aspirations, doubts, and limitations? Who trusted him – despite his numerous fuck ups? Who fought with him, saved him from certain death, came back for him over and over again? He was just supposed to... supposed to... leave?
He could never do that. He could never leave him.
Right?
The question was whispered in a tiny voice from the very back of his mind, carefully crawling forward into the light to be seen, slipping through the angry hands of Duo's denial just to stay alive. Nothing had ever hurt Duo as badly as that thought. Not even his self-loathing at his betrayal of Heero's trust. At least... At least he still had him, even if he'd hurt him. But they were only nineteen. Could he really deal with sixty more years of this shit? Could they really make it if Duo was cheating on him after three?
How were they supposed to learn to live, when they had been trained to die?
Duo slammed his fist into his desk and slid it across, knocking everything – papers, pencils, cups, stupid Gundam figurines – off with one swipe. A clean slate. They had to start over. They had to be like new again.
Right.
They had to be made right.
Duo expected a certain amount of trepidation as he walked home, but he was strangely calm. No matter what happened, he just wanted to see him. He just needed to see him. He just...
Carefully he knocked out their code and opened the door. The lights were on, the apartment was warm, the sweet smell of honey and the sizzle of stir-fry greeting him pleasantly. It was a greeting he hadn't received in a long time.
He noted with a fleeting feeling of joy that Heero had eaten some of the fruit he'd left out in one of those damned bowls. But it was only fleeting because he knew the offering wasn't an apology, and the acceptance of said offering not forgiveness.
He studied the broad lines of Heero's back as he cooked, his concentration completely focused on the task. It seemed almost silly to see a man who'd piloted the ZERO system, felt the burn of Earth's atmosphere as he alone defended the planet against a hulking hunk of metal the size of Mexico, killed and mourned untold legions of men standing over a stove top, mixing sauces and flipping tiny pieces of chicken with a spatula. Duo might've laughed if it hadn't been completely inappropriate.
Then he realized he was standing mesmerized in the middle of the room and quickly kicked off his boots, starting his post-work routine involving removing many articles of clothing and trading them for different ones. When he was done, he sat down at their rinky-dink table and stared at Heero's serious profile. If this was it, if this was the end, at least he got to see the sloping curves of that handsome face one last time.
He didn't have to wait long for a steaming pile of stir-fry and white rice to be delivered to him. As Heero set it down in front of him he looked up and their eyes met. Heero paused and Duo couldn't help himself, his guilt overtook his sanity and suddenly he found himself with his mouth hanging open, words tumbling out of them.
"Heero, about that woman, I – I'm so fucking sorry, I –"
"I never want to talk about this." Heero's eyes were hard, his decision final. Duo's mouth slammed shut with a clink as his teeth hit each other. In an unexpected move Heero grabbed Duo's chin and tilted his head to the side, inspecting his cheek where he'd punched him. For a moment Duo thought he was silently telling him that he'd already had his payback, but he wasn't sure when Heero closed his eyes for a moment, appearing remorseful, before he let his chin go.
Then his eyes were focused on his plate as he sat. They ate in silence, not unusual, but it was strangely less tense than normal. Duo couldn't believe he was going to get off that easy, but when he thought about it, there was absolutely nothing he could say to make the situation any better – and surely Heero knew that. But at the same time, it wasn't forgiveness. And despite Heero's words, he knew they would talk about it... eventually. For the moment, though, he felt obliged to honor Heero's wishes.
"That was really good, 'Ro..." Duo said softly as he finished the plate, not sure what possessed him to use the old nickname. He stood to take their plates to the sink when Heero commanded him to sit. Almost instantaneously his butt fell back into the seat and he looked carefully up at Heero.
They sat there for a moment, Duo looking up at him ruefully while Heero studied him. Finally, he spoke.
"Trowa told me Quatre was going to call you today." It wasn't at all what Duo anticipated and he couldn't help but drop his eyes back to the table, remembering Quatre's words ringing through his head.
"So you talked to him then?" He couldn't even move to nod, he just slumped further into the chair. There was a long, insufferable silence between them. Duo was worried he would have to be the next to talk and began wracking his brain with what to say but he didn't have to.
"If you want that, you just have to say it." The words were soft, softer than Heero ever spoke. Duo's head shot up and he saw unmistakable regret there.
"I know," Duo replied quietly.
"He might be right."
"No. No, he's not." Duo shook his head. "I'm the fuck up. Maybe you should leave me."
"But I love you." The too often unsaid words were raw and honest and Duo felt his throat tighten with emotion at them. His lovely, logical Heero. If you loved someone you stuck by them, no matter what. No matter how miserable it made you. No matter the arguments, no matter the fights, no matter what your best friends might say.
Right?
Wasn't Heero right?
"Did Trowa tell you that?" Duo asked carefully then, a little afraid of his answer.
Heero looked confused by the question, but he leaned back and crossed his opposite ankle over his knee. "Trowa thought it wasn't his business to meddle in our affairs." But Duo saw that there was more and waited for Heero to reluctantly continue. "But he said this wasn't... healthy."
Duo leaned back as he stared at his partner, his legs spread and his hands loosely clasped between them, unsure what to say. So he settled on the time honored, "Fuck."
Suddenly Heero looked nervous and his fists clenched for a moment. "I'm going to see... someone."
Duo couldn't guess the face he made at that, unable to comprehend what Heero could possibly be talking about. See someone? As payback for what Duo had done? His stomach twisted but he knew he couldn't say anything. Fair was fair and –
"Like a shrink," Heero finally suffered out, clearly humbled to the breaking point. "Une suggested it to me not long ago and... I can't keep expecting you to fix me."
Duo knew his eyes widened at the confession and he felt like a weight had been released from his chest. It never even occurred to him that he was trying but in that moment he knew it was true. Ever since the war ended he'd been carrying Heero, trying to keep his head above water as they navigated the everyday ocean of life without war. It was easy for a while, when Heero was trying to swim. But the past year or so he'd given up and was drowning himself while Duo fought the undertow alone.
Duo leaned over the table then and laid his hand out, palm up. An offering. Heero studied it carefully and, a touch reluctantly in his already vulnerable state, reached his hand out and placed it over his. Duo curled his fingers slightly.
He stared straight into Heero's eyes then, searching them, knowing they were everything he wanted.
"I love you." Heero blinked, obviously caught off-guard by the strength behind his declaration.
"I love you," he repeated, wanting the words to sink through Heero's thick skull. "And I want to make this work. I don't want to leave. I want to spend the next sixty years with you. I..." He ran out of steam then, unsure what to say that hadn't already been said. Heero squeezed his fingers a moment in silent understanding before he took his hand back.
"They just really fucked us up, 'Ro," Duo finished softly, gathering up their plates and slipping them into the dishwasher. He grabbed an orange on the way back, digging his fingernails into it and ripping a hunk of peel off. With his foot he drug his chair close to Heero and sat down next to him, continuing to unwrap that damnable fruit.
"I can forgive you for the shit you can't help." Finally he'd gotten it unwrapped and he pulled apart a few sections. He held one up and offered it to the other man, turning to face his eyes once more.
"But you have to be able to forgive yourself." Heero stared back, several different emotions touching on his face as he considered Duo's words. But instead of accepting the orange, he grasped Duo's wrist and pulled it down, leaning in for a soft, sweet kiss.
Duo closed his eyes and melted into it, hoping that this meant that even if it wasn't okay tomorrow, or the next day, that it might be, one day. That Heero would start trying again. That maybe... maybe they would make it.
That everything would be all right.