Title: All's Fair…
Author: POC (Pathetic Otaku Child, for those of you who were ignorant of that)
Rating: M. This takes places during the war, after all.
Disclaimer: -in group therapy- Um…my name's the POC…Hi…I-I-I don't o-own…-tears- I don't own Gundam Wing!!! -runs off sobbing-
Pairings: 2x5x2, 3x4 in the back ground.
Warnings: Yaoi, shonen-ai, slight Quatre and Heero bashing (Dun worry, I still love the guy. But he's a jerk in this story ''''Dun kill meh), Relena bashing, fighting, cursing, killing, blood, torture, molestation, rape and un-canon-ness. Yep, this is going to be a dark story sometimes, especially in later chapters. But dun worry, unlike the stories from your American Lit. classes, this one'll probably have a happy ending thumbs up
A/N: I've wanted to write a Duo/Wufei ficcy for a while now, but I didn't know what I should do for it, so I kept putting it off. Then the other day my thus far unnamed Muse smacked me one upside the head with Inspiration.
Begin Transmission One
"-well . ..-axwell. . .MAXWELL!!!!"
Duo jerked his head up. "Mm-wha? Huh? I wasn't. . . I . . . sorry. . . "
He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and smiled tentatively at Wufei, who crouched in the entrance with his arms folded and figurative foot tapping, a dignified scowl on his face.
The chestnut haired teen couldn't help but blush just a bit, which was a feat in itself, considering that if he didn't have such fine control over his body, the blush would have been much bigger and redder. This was due to the fact of the content of the dream he'd been enjoying before being woken. Not to mention the people-or person- involved.
Wufei raised one eloquent black eyebrow. "Quite articulate today, are you? May I ask why you're sleeping . . . in my Gundam of all places?"
Duo laughed nervously. "Umm. Well, see, I…uh…it's a lame story…"
The Chinese scholar-turned-warrior sat on the edge of the cockpit, effectively blocking the exit, arms still folded. "I'm ready. And it had better be a damn good reason."
He swallowed. Wufei may usually keep himself apart from the other four pilots, and read quietly or trained instead, but the former street rat knew that he was a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention those dark, alluring eyes . . . Wait, no! We are NOT getting side tracked, he told his brain fiercely.
"Umm, 'kay. Well, last time Quatre came back from a mission, he had a little wound. That got me to thinkin'. All our cockpits must be really stained up with blood and stuff. 'Cept for Hee-chan's, of course. Since he's always immaculate and perfect and shit. Anyhay, I decided to help ya out. Ya know, clean and stuff. But. . ."
But then I could see little traces of you. I could smell your scent. It was nice, I guess. Those thoughts slipped into my dreams after all. And-
"But you fell asleep," Wufei completed for him, breaking him out of his thoughts again. "Why couldn't you have bothered Barton or Winner," he muttered as he stood and leaned to the side, leaving just enough room for Duo to squeeze out of the cramped cabin.
The braided boy stayed as close to the other side as he could, trying not to touch that luxurious caramel skin. Nevertheless the two boys' arms brushed each other. Duo fought off the approaching blush as well as he could, but left quickly and soundlessly anyway, just to be safe. He jogged out of the safe house's hangar and into the kitchen/breakfast nook, almost knocking Quatre over in his haste.
"Whoa! Sorry, didn't see you there, Q-ster."
Quatre only smiled pleasantly at him. "Oh, it's all right. Think nothing of it. So what has you all wound up? Is it Wufei again?"
Duo glanced sharply at the smaller boy before sighing and looking at his feet while shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "I shoulda known you'd know. Empathic and being a general busybody and all. But yeah. I idiotically decided to clean his cockpit, of all things and fell asleep. It was just so…relaxing. Being there, surrounded by his smell and little traces of him. Like a hair. Or leftover food wrappings forgotten behind the seat," he rambled, a grin spreading across his elfin features. "And get this. Apparently he's got a thing for S'mores flavored Granola bars. I mean, I found twenty freaking wrappers. Probably the least healthy thing he'll let in his body. And what a body. . ." he trailed off and a frown started shadowing over his mood. "God, listen to me. I sound like one sick puppy."
Quatre smiled slightly, willing himself not to interfere in the other boys' relationships. He knew that no one would appreciate it if he did. But a little prodding should be fine. "No. Sounds like you're in love."
Duo's head swung around to face the blond, paying attention again. "Who, me? Never. A little infatuation here and there, sure. But don't take me seriously."
"That's sounding rather close to a lie, Duo. Wouldn't you rather talk about it?"
The braided teen, anger barely controlled under his jovial mask, stared steadily at him. "Who died and made you head shrink?" Then he left, absentmindedly grabbing a box of cheese crackers on the way out. He brushed by Trowa in the hall and marched upstairs to his suite. Yes, suite. Quatre's so called "small' safe house had 10 individual suites, 5 ½ other bathrooms, the kitchen/ breakfast nook, the Gundams' hangar, a full-fledged Dining room (with a humongous table and enough chairs to easily sit twenty), a gym, a study/library, a huge living room and an entertainment room with the works. Bluntly put, it was big enough to put Duo's old neighborhood in, and maybe throw in Trowa's circus tent as well.
Duo entered his own room (which just so happened to be two doors down from Wufei; next door would have been too obvious), shut the door and flopped down on his bed. Shit, he was an idiot. Well, as long as he kept these damned feelings under control and didn't give in, eventually they'd go away, and he'd be free again. Maybe he should distract himself. Wait, was that a maybe? His bad. That was supposed to be a definite. He could always go out with that loud mouthed girl, Hilde or whatever. What was he saying? He didn't need anyone for such reasons, distraction or otherwise.
That was it. He needed a vacation away from the vacation. All this time around the safe house was driving him crazy. It had been forever since anyone had gotten a mission, and Duo suspected that he wasn't the only one growing restless. Heero was spending even more time than usual locked in his room with Mrs. Yuy (Duo figured that he must be married to the laptop, considering how much time he spent with it, often alone), Trowa was always either in the gym or with Quatre, who spent all of his time with his auburn boyfriend or poking into everyone else's lives. The blond would randomly run into people's rooms at the most inopportune times. "A knack,' the Arab called this phenomenon. Wufei usually was by himself practicing martial arts and with his swords or tinkering with his godamn Nataku. Shit, that was sad, if Duo was jealous of a machine.
Speaking of Gundams, the braided teen desperately wished that he could go and sit in 'Scythe. But Wufei was probably still in the hangar. Oh, god, Wufei. Why'd he have to start thinking about him again?
Duo grabbed for his headphones and shoved them on and jabbed at the play button of his portable music player before turning up the volume as far as it went. He reveled in the pain in his ears as a welcome relief and sufficient distraction from the real world: war, sadness, hate and unrequited love.
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Wufei walked down the hall to his own room, having finished tuning up Nataku and eating a bowl of rice for dinner. It had been five hours since he'd found the braided baka in Nataku. When he had happened upon him, he had not immediately woken him. When he had, it had been hard to do. The Chinese boy had just wanted to watch the chestnut maned maelstrom sleep, for once looking truly relaxed and peaceful.
He now passed Duo's room, but stopped, faintly hearing heavy music. Wufei opened the door a crack and peered in. Duo sat cross legged on the bed and stared at some undefined spot on the wall. His face held no emotion whatsoever, which was extremely unusual. He looked as if in a trance. The excruciatingly loud music in his ears was the only thing to detract from the almost sacred image.
Wufei winced slightly. He's never been a big fan of headphones in the first place (too damaging to the ears), but the volume was ridiculous. However, he didn't dare enter Maxwell's rooms and lower it. Instead he quietly closed the door and continued on his way to his own rooms, idly wondering how long Duo had been sitting like that. Three hours? 4? Ever since their encounter in the hangar?
Wufei sat on his own bed after closing his door. He folded his legs and shut his eyes, trying to find comfort in meditation. But his thoughts kept coming back to the other boy. Silently, he cursed himself as he set his feet on the floor. It wasn't right for him to think so much about Maxwell. His clan held nothing against homosexuality, but they were in the middle of a war, damn it. Feelings such as love or affection would not be helpful. They didn't leave a clear head during battle.
Besides, of all people, why Maxwell? He was loud, obnoxious and . . . . and . . . . beautiful.
The Chinese boy sighed and put his head in his hands a moment; his legs drawing up into the lotus position almost of their own accord before he lifted his head and stare at the wall. It was just a coincidence that the wall was towards Maxwell and in the same direction that the other boy was staring. He sat quietly, settling into a meditative trance. Unwittingly, the two boys mirrored each other, twin statues of distraction, each finding their own way of futilely trying not to think of the other.
End Transmission