Can You Feel The Love Tonight

Can You Feel the Love Tonight is sung by Elton John and all rights belongs to him and respective entities that have been granted full or any rights to it. It does not belong to me. Standard disclaimers apply.


Can You Feel the Love Tonight
by NekosouChan

There's a calm surrender
To the rush of day
When the heat of the rolling world
Can be turned away
An enchanted moment
And it sees me through
It's enough for this restless warrior
Just to be with you

*click*

The lights went off and the only source of illumination in the small room was the faint moonlight and the softly glowing tiny universe mobile he had hung up on a hook. The glow-in-the-dark stars, planets and comets gave forth a comforting dim light as it moved in the draft created from the whirling ceiling fan in the middle of the room. It gave the dull, miserable room a certain brightness and life.

He loved the little things since first seeing it displayed in an old antique shop and couldn't resist buying it, even though it emptied his meager financial sources. He figured he could always reroute some Oz funds later. A little bit of string, wire and some rods and he had strung it all up on a mobile that he could easily fold into a compact package for easy transport and set up again to admire. It was the last thing he saw before slept claimed him and also the first when he woke again later that night to the sound of soft whirring and incessant clicks.

"Ne, Heero, aren't you going to get any sleep?" he twisted on the bed to stare sleepily at the person occupying the other half of the bed. It was always cheaper to rent a single room with only one bed than a room with two beds. Hence the two of them often shared a bed. And nothing else, unfortunately, to Duo's crestfallen hopes.

The Japanese youth was lying on his stomach, propped up by two pillows while his slim and long fingers danced delicately and fast over the laptop's keyboard. He was wrong, he grinned ruefully. The other source of illumination in the tiny room was the laptop's screen glowing and the gleam it reflected in Heero's fixated eyes. Without glancing up he knew the stars' glow had long faded, there having been no sufficient light for it to absorb and give off.

Duo exasperatedly blew a stray lock of hair from his eyes and wriggled closer to the other pilot to see just what could be so captivating to him at 2am in the morning. How can a plain stupid report seduce him better than me? "Watcha typing at, Heero?" he asked, trying to peer over his shoulder.

".... Reports and analysis on the last mission."

From his angle Duo couldn't really make out the flowing characters on the screen and finally gave up on it. He flopped back on the bed and when the bed bounced him back up gently he gave way to a devilish grin. A bright notion lit like wildfire in his mind. If he couldn't get any sleep or peace and quiet from the constant typing then neither was Heero going to get any!

He skipped the crawling stage and went straight to running full blast. He jumped to his feet on the mattress, caught his balance when the bed shifted then started jumping up and down. "One *jump*, two *jump* buckle my shoe!*jump* Three *jump*, four *jump* shut the door! Five *jump*, si-"

"Hidoiiii," he mourned sadly later, feeling his skull for cracks from his upside down position on the hard unfeeling floor. "Heero, that hurt." The bastard had pulled the blanket out from under him and caused him to fall backwards, his head hitting the ground at the base of the bed while the rest of his body hung off the bed at a very uncomfortable angle.

"Grow up, Duo," Heero's cold voice replied and soon the clicking of the keyboard resumed its regularity. Duo glared at his unresponsive hair, which was about all he could see from where he was and flipped himself over.

"Look who's talking," he replied, crawling back over to his side of the bed. He hauled himself up to lean against the headboard and shook his head. "You're too old, Heero. Why don't you grow younger? You're like so serious all the time and you never relax, always tensed up always doing something that relates to missions. Now that I really think of it you never actually have any hobbies do you? Something ordinary like walking or collecting stamps or -"

"Get to the point, Duo."

He sweatdropped. "I'm saying, Heero," he enunciated carefully lest he be blamed for letting his tongue run wild and slur his words. "That you should just be yourself for a while. You can't be the Perfect Soldier all the time. Just be yourself. Do what your heart tells instead of what your brain says for a change." Was that his imagination or did he really stun Heero? Duo wondered. He blinked and shoved his face right in front of his to see clearly. "Heero?"

Dark cobalt eyes glared daggers at him and he beat a hasty retreat. "And why not?" Heero asked quietly, fingers stilled on the console. He raised his eyes to stare into his own amethyst ones. "If you can be who you are not all the time, why can't I? Why aren't you who you are?"

"Ehhe," he chuckled weakly. "I have no idea what you're talking about at all, Heero. You're going way too deep for me. I am who I am; Shinigami!" A lonely boy, a frightened boy, a boy who seeks and seeks but never finds. A boy with no family, a boy with a dead past, a boy with no future to look forward to. A boy who kills and kills without remorse but perhaps with regret. A boy to whom everything is uncertain and always changing. A boy to whom Death is the one resolute absolute. A boy who loves but can never hope to have it returned. Which me do you mean, Heero?

"Likely," he snorted and shocked Duo even further when he gently powered the laptop down and closed it. Duo froze, as a deer would freeze when a predator is sensed nearby. He stared apprehensively at Heero, unable to read the conflicting, indecipherable emotions in the other's hard granite eyes. Then he actually laughed. He laughed! It started out as a soft chuckle then a shoulder-shaking chortle then into a full blown, side-aching, tear-weeping laugh. He doubled over clutching his sides and fell on his side, still laughing away.

"Oh shit," Duo sweatdropped and scrambled off the bed quickly. A suicidal Heero he could deal with, a bloodthirsty insane, killer Heero he could handle. Heck he didn't mind facing a dead emotionless Heero out to self-destruct every self-destructible thing in the universe, or even a Heero dressed to kill in drags. A Heero falling down insurmountable heights without a parachute didn't faze him much, or a Heero who could set his own bones and bend steel bars apart. But a laughing Heero was the worst thing in the whole world and frankly, Duo was afraid. Very, very afraid. "Oi, Heero! Are you nuts? Stop that man, you're scaring me! Heero!?!"

Heero gasped and shook like a dog trying to dry-shake itself free of water and when he stopped laughing his steady cobalt eyes fixed on him again. "Are," Duo hesitated from behind the cover of a chair, a set of drawers and the cupboard plus a dressing table. He carefully peeked over the edge, a pot cum helmet protecting his noggin and a broom doubled as a staff in his hands. "Are you all right now? Do you need a doctor or something? 911? Emergency? CPR?"

They stared at each other for a very long time, neither saying a word but simply gazing at each other, taking the other's measure and examining it. He looks sane. No, wait, he's never sane. This is too freaking like the suspense before whole hell breaks loose. And just when Duo thought it might be safe to venture out that bloody bastard starting laughing again!

"Just what the hell is so funny?" Duo demanded, waving the broom at the convulsing Japanese pilot threateningly.

"You!" Heero wheezed before another attack of laughing swept him over. His fingers found and flicked on the bedside lamp.

"Me?" Duo glanced down at himself and sweatdropped. He was dressed in his pajamas. But he had somehow mismatched it in the darkness of the room when he had emerged from the shower. He wore a light blue teddy bear studded top with balloons and little red flags all over while his pants were yellow with smiley faces everywhere. He then realized he was waving an old, well worn and dusty broom at Heero and on his head, with the handle sticking out at an angle just above his ear and the rim slipping down to cover his right eye, was a pot. And he had ripped the tablecloth, a moth-eaten dull purple with white polka dots article, off in his haste to put as much distance and barriers between Heero and himself and it was now wound around his hips in a tangled web.

A war was fought over his face, an army of different emotions fighting out for a place on his face. And it suddenly ended when his lips, at first fixed into a grim serious line, jerked upwards in the beginnings of a smile. "Ah, dammit, I look like an idiot, don't I?" he sighed, dropping the broom to the floor. He shrugged wryly and placed his hands on his hips.

"Yes, you do," Heero uncharacteristically agreed and starting laughing all over again. But this time, Duo smiled and laughed along. He didn't really know why he was laughing, or perhaps he was laughing at himself. Maybe we're finally cracked. Or we're just being plain defiant and stubborn. But for whatever the reason, if felt good and exhilarating to simply let go and release himself.

He toppled over in the bed and playfully wrestled Heero over, both still caught up in the giddy rousing feeling. Amidst their giggles and laughter came a sharp and abrupt, heavy knocking on their door.

"Hey in there! Quiet down will you? People are trying to sleep here!" an irritated male voice yelled angrily on the other side. They froze, unmoving, Heero on the bed with Duo kneeling over him and holding his arms down. But the man moved away, apparently satisfied by the sudden silence and they could clearly hear his fading footsteps back down the hall and last words. "Damn up-high kids. Nothing but hormones in their stupid blood and they all never use their brains. Why, in my day no one......"

Affable, animated amused amethyst met charmed, cheerful convivial cobalt [1]. And as one they both broke out into giggles and laughter again. They didn't get much in terms of rest that night, but in other ways they gained so much more. When they finally did stop to catch what little was left of the night, Duo was exhausted and fell fast asleep, a lingering smile on his face. Heero was deep in dreamland too, his face relaxed with the ever faintest hint of a smirk and whether his arm was draped over Duo by accident or by intent, Duo did not care to debate but took the chance to savor and enjoy. After all, you don't get Heero laughing like that everyday.....

Chorus:
And can you feel the love tonight?
It is where we are
It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer
That we got this far
And can you feel the love tonight
How it's laid to rest?
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds
Believe the very best

"Quatre!" Duo shouted at the top of his voice and waved madly at the blond figure that waited below. Beside him was a taller youth with brown hair and green eyes who lifted his head in acknowledgement of their arrival. And behind them, like a silently watching and ever judging guardian dragon was Wufei, the Chinese pilot of Shenlong, otherwise known as Nataku.

"You know they can't hear you," Heero said as he went through the final checks before locking the cargo plane in place. Ever efficient and by the book, Duo thought as he quickly unbuckled the straps to greet their fellow pilots.

"It's the thought that counts," he replied impudently.

He worked the door open and disregarding the mobile stairs that had been pushed up to it, he jumped down yelling at the top of his voice! "Catch me!" he yelled gleefully, spreading his arms and legs as he flew straight for Trowa.

"Even Tarzan doesn't jump like that without a vine, Master Duo," a deep, thick voice that was intensely amused rumbled. One split second later and Duo found himself caught and held up for a long look like a babe. He was dangling helpless from Rashid's hands and right behind him was a laughing Quatre and there was an unmistakably smug glint to Trowa's eyes. Wufei was snorting and shaking his head in disgust at his behavior.

Not to be outdone, he recovered from the surprise and flung his arms around the huge man. "Rasssheeeddd," he crooned, batting his eyes at him. "My hero!"

Then, "Ittaiiiiiii."

"Are you all right, Duo?" Quatre offered his hand to pull him up from his hard contact with the floor. Duo sniffed and rubbed his head.

"No, I'm not, Quatre," he sobbed tearfully. "First Heero dunks me on my head, then kicks me awake and gags me for the rest of the trip then your oversized gorilla there," Duo gulped and shrank behind Quatre when Rashid turned his eyes on him. "Uh, did I say oversized gorilla? I meant overwhelming bodyguard, yeah that's right. Overwhelming gor-bodyguard I mean. Then your overwhelming bodyguard dumped me, head first no less, on the ground."

"Duo, shut up," Heero walked past him and headed for the swarming technicians who were unloading the two Gundams from the plane.

"Yeah, and a good day to you too! Thanks for your sympathy!" Duo called out as his eyes tracked Heero all the way. The Japanese youth was dressed in a black flightsuit with red and white highlights and it practically stuck to him like a second skin. He particularly enjoyed the play and flex of Heero's muscles as he strode, the fluidity and sheer power, not to mention the magnetism of it, reminding him of a prowling black puma. The shifting rolling flesh beneath the conforming suit was giving him a sudden wild impetus to do something about the rising rampant desire running through him.

The night they had spent, he in his arms, was like a dream come true. It was the closest he had ever come to the distant aloft youth. Duo didn't know when the camaraderie and simple trust between two pilots in the same war had changed to affection and need to be close and finally metamorphosed into a full fledged fervor for the uncaring, cold and sharp cobalt eyed pilot. He found himself hungering after him, but each and every time he held himself back. I'm like a bloody dancing moth to Heero's fire. I can't help coming close to him but I know I'll die when I do, but do I really care?

"... you all right?" Trowa was asking. Duo blinked and shifted his gaze back to the other three Gundam pilots, and quickly laughed to ease the pressing tension and concern aimed at him.

"No prob. But I need a bath, I feel filthy. The room we were staying at had us being bedmates with fleas and rats," he grinned. I need a cold bath, I need a very very cold bath. Make it Arctic cold temperature. But he knew it wouldn't be that effective. Not so long as he remembered Heero's arm around him.... It had been just a simple touch, his arm casually draped over his body, but it had set him afire with longing and needs and Duo trembled to think what would happen should something more occur if it only took skin contact with Heero to cause that. I'd spontaneously combust!

***

"Alcohol!" Duo crowed happily, pulling out the water-beaded green-smoked glass wine bottles from the ice buckets. "You're an angel, Quatre," he smiled at the Arabian youth reassuringly.

"Technically we are underaged, you know," Quatre pointed out as he expertly pulled the cork out and poured a glass for each of them.

"Bah!" Duo dismissed it. "We've been doing things no one over 50 has and if they can drink why can't we? Besides, this is a celebration! It just isn't a party without the beer flowing." To celebrate our having lived through so far. To celebrate our survival of death. To celebrate me and Heero having at least one night together. Even though we didn't do what I wanted us to. And I didn't say what was in my heart.

"Besides, no one will dare tell you no," Duo laughed as he threw the whole contents of his cup down his throat. The sweet fruity and slightly acrid aftertaste barely registered on his taste buds before it send a burning sensation down his throat and spread a nice, warm, tingly buzz through him. Quatre sweatdropped. Duo had just drank down a cup of wine worth thousands without even a pause to savor it....

"Not more than a cup, Quatre-same." Large, hulking Rashid pointedly stood by the blond youth who shrugged helplessly at his friends. "And slowly. If you gulp it down like Mr. Tarzan there you'll be ill." [2]

Duo stuck his tongue out at him and promptly turned chibi and hid behind Heero when Rashid coolly raised his scimitar and rested it on his shoulder in plain view.

"No more than half a cup, thank you, Quatre," Wufei stated and Duo watched as he slowly sipped at the red liquid.

"That's no way to get drunk," Duo accused. "The objective here is to get drunk, people! Drunk! Drunk as a... a... drunk Gundam?"

"You've had too much already," Rashid pointedly as Duo knocked back another glass. Me too much? Heh, you don't know my tolerance levels do you? Duo turned his nose up at him and gave a sidelong glance at Heero. He was slowly sipping from his first cup. It shouldn't take much to get him rip-roaring drunk. He barely touched his dinner. It should be going straight to his head anytime soon.

"One is enough for me," Trowa said quietly. Duo sighed noisily.

"You guys just aren't fun," he said sadly. "Looks like just it's just you and me, Heero." Duo quickly poured in more of the intoxicating wine into Heero's cup and slung his arm around him. But should I even be getting him drunk? I just want him a bit loosened up, a bit relaxed. That's all. And maybe... maybe I can ask him that.

Three hours later, two pilots less and millions worth of wine consumed, a sober Quatre was left to deal with two stoned drunken friends. Both Wufei and Trowa had retired early in the night saying they were tired. He sweatdropped at the sight of the two and leaned closer to Rashid. "I think letting them have karaoke was a very bad idea."

"I know," the large man replied grimly. Two large wads of cotton were stuffed into his ears. "We'll need to replace all the glassware tomorrow."

Duo was crooning softly into his microphone with his arm slung companionably around Heero who was trying, very unsuccessfully, to threaten to kill the television for not singing on key with him. A square cushion had been flopped on Duo's head like some fat embroidered version of a pirate captain's hat [3] and his shirt had been taken off, his reason being 'going natural is going cool' and the idea had partially influenced Heero to unbutton his own shirt. Quatre was very grateful it had gone no further than that.

"I never figured Heero to be a drunkard," Quatre muttered in exasperation. The cold always in control pilot just didn't look like the sort who would drown in wine. Maybe a low resistance level? Anyway, he couldn't let them go on much longer like that; they'd wake up the whole household. Then he had an idea. "Rashid, help me get out some old cartoons and animation. Duo said he loved cartoons. Maybe it'll quiet him down."

"Sheesh, huey Kuashtrey," Duo complained, his speech long slurred by the amount of alcohol in him. "Eyesh wash singing!" Heero nodded vigorously then he clutched Duo tightly as his senses tilted and lost themselves further by that over exuberant gesture. Heero drunk was a Heero who agreed with everything Duo did it seems.

"You'll like this much better," Quatre assured them as he slipped the disc in and soon the opening song 'Yakusoku wa Iranai'[4] flowed out softly and beautifully. This had the effect of shutting Duo up completely and Quatre sighed in relief.

He stayed with them for a while and very much later, when he was absolutely sure they were going to be quiet and some of the alcohol had hopefully run its course, he bid them good night and left.

There's a time for everyone
If they only learn
That the twisting kaleidoscope
Moves us all in turn
There's a rhyme and reason
To the wild outdoors
When the heart of this
Star-crossed voyager
Beats in time with yours

"Heero," Duo called softly when Quatre had left. He abandoned all pretense of his drunken slur. His eyes were fixed on the screen and if this were any other time he would have ignored everything else but the poor sad unicorn there. But this wasn't any other time. The words of the song played earlier ran through his mind again. Say does everyone feel this lonely when they're in love? Say, does the deep pain embrace you even in the darkness? [4] Yes and yes.

"Hmmm?" he asked drowsily. Heero yawned and burrowed closer to him, for warmth or companionship or just because he was plain drunk Duo had no idea.

"Have you," he hesitated. It was deadly quiet but for them and the animation show running its course. Quatre and Trowa and Wufei had already retired while Rashid had left them all earlier, surprisingly. "Have you ever loved someone?"

A befuddled cobalt eye peered at him. Unthinkingly Duo reached out his hand and gently pushed back the fringe of dark hair that hid the other eye. Burning with embarrassment when he realized both the eyes were staring at him he withdrew his hand and shoved it behind him. But his hair is nice and silky and his skin was soft and cool. Long lashes, killing eyes, what I wouldn't give to be able to stare right into his eyes and kiss him. "Me?" Heero echoed, blinking owlishly. "Not really."

"What about Relena?" he pressed. He wouldn't have dared asking him this when he was sober and really conscious.

Heero snorted and Duo held his breath when his arms snaked around his waist. "Shesh just a girl," he muttered, burrowing his head against his chest. Duo flushed and wondered whether his earlier plan of getting Heero drunk was just so this could happen. Admit it, Duo. You hoped this would happen. You planned it to happen. But it feels cheap. I know he won't have really done this if he wasn't drunk. This... this is like me stealing something. It feels dirty and just... just wrong. "You smell nice," Heero remarked from below, his breath warm against his skin and making Duo shiver.

And suddenly he couldn't stand it any longer. He jumped up and wobbled before his balance reinstated itself, albeit more slowly due to the alcohol swimming in his blood. He could feel his eyes burning, hot tears making an unpleasant entrance. "You're drunk, Heero," he muttered, trying to sound harsh but it came out lame. "Let's get you to bed."

He switched the television off and hefted Heero up. "You're heavy," he told him, trying to ignore the sensation of the Japanese youth being almost skin to skin with him. Almost as Heero was still wearing his shirt, although it had been unbuttoned.

"Youh smell nice," Heero drunkenly replied and slipping his other arm around the American.

Duo quickened his steps. He wanted this to stop before it got any further, before he shamed himself. "This isn't you, Heero," he told him determinedly as he maneuvered the steps that would lead to his rooms and Heero's. "You're just drunk. This is the wine talking, it isn't really you. You'll forget this ever happened tomorrow and you'll thank me for it before we do something we'd both regret. You're not ready for it." Am I? Am I reassuring him or myself?

He never thought he'd be gladder to see the door to Heero's room. He kicked it open and hauled Heero in sideways. The pilot was still clutching his waist tightly. He fumbled in the darkness of the room before he found the bed. And fell in it.

"Got cha," Heero smiled. I was wrong. Heero like this is worse than a Heero laughing. Heero pushed him over and breathed down on him from above. Duo was stunned. From both his actions and from the nice view he was getting. Heero lowered his head and nuzzled his neck, moist, warm breath flowing over his skin. "Duo," he whispered, one hand lying flat on his chest like a heavy weight to deeper promises of the night.

No! Not like this! Not when he isn't in control of himself, not when I tricked him into it. I thought I wanted it, but I don't! Duo shoved Heero off him and fled, gasping to the still open doorway. I can still feel his hand and his breath on me. "I'm sorry, Heero," he gasped out, shuddering. "I can't, not like this, not this way! Not when we're both drunk." And me less drunk than you.

Chorus:
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds
Believe the very best.

"Do you hate me?" came the soft whisper from the bed. Duo resolutely faced the outside corridor, fearing that if he should lay his eyes on Heero again he'd be lost. Especially when he sounds like that.

"No, Heero, I've never hated you," he muttered, resting his fevered head against the frame of the door. How strange he must look like, half undressed, hair messed up and leaning against the doorframe. Like a mad artist's painting brought to life. He wondered where his shirt was. He faintly recalled pulling it off slowly, swaying his hips, and throwing it into a corner of the room. "I've been annoyed with you, yes, sometimes angry too, but I've never hated you." He struggled to his legs. "Don't you see? I've only loved you." He was too cowardly to stay and hear Heero's reply and took the first of suddenly unsteady steps.

"But, Duo," came Heero's calm, even and steady reply. "I'm not drunk."

The boy who styled himself Death froze on the threshold. He's not drunk? Dammit he had four whole bottles! But... but he really doesn't sound drunk. He can drink me under and I don't even know that? But that meant Heero knew and understood every single thing he done and said. He was aware of everything. He knows!

He knows!

That suddenly changed everything. Duo hesitantly turned to face him. Heero was sitting on the bed, shirt still unbuttoned and falling off one shoulder, legs pulled up and spread apart and his arms locked together on it. The uncoordinated movements of a drunk were swept aside by the precise, steady movements of a sober pilot. Clear, hard cobalt chips gazed at him. Hard, but hesitant eyes. He doesn't want rejection anymore than I do.

Duo slowly walked back to the bed and carefully leaned close to him. Neither said a word and Duo almost laughed as he remembered a similar instance the night before when they both had went crazy and laughed their heads off.

He tenderly placed his hands on the sides of his face and brought themselves closer until all the amethyst eyes could see was itself reflected in cobalt mirrors. He pressed his lips against Heero's and they kissed long and hard. Mmmm, soft, warm pliable lips. When his tongue swiped against Heero's lips he could feel the other's surprise and when his lips parted his tongue forged on ahead to invade his mouth. Heero moaned inaudibly under him and he smiled. When he finally pulled away both of them looked a little dazed and lungs strained for air.

"When neither of us are drunk," he whispered with a smile of promise.

THE END

[1] lol. What was this called? Alliteration or something? Learnt it so long ago in poetry appreciation. ;p

[2] If you want to be technical and realistic about it, Muslim are not allowed to gamble, drink alcohol or have 'unnatural sex' (homosexual). Quatre is presumably Muslim but these restrictions are kinda set aside. Read all the fanfics, you can see Q doing all of these stuff and more. No one ever said fanfics had to 'make' sense..... it just had to be sensible ^_^;; And to tell the truth, not all Muslims adhere 100% to these restrictions *shrug*

[3] A square cushion, you punch one corner in and sort of indent it. The indent part goes on the head. The three points then stick out on the head. The pillow has to be flexible yet sort of plump enough. I used to do this all the time when I was a kid.

[4] 'I don't need promises', Escaflowne op. The one I used/referring to is a translation by Asbel, 1997 (Version 1.0), HTML Coding Copyright © 1997 M. Francis.

© 1999 Rennuian, http://vidrio-negro.net/home This story is part of a story arc called Feather Fall of Dreams