DISCLAIMER: Gundam Wing is copyrighted to Sunrise, Sotsu, Bandai and
anyone else who's lucky enough to have a finger in the pie. ;) 'Fall' is
copyrighted to Alicia Keys, 'Everytime You Need Me' to Fragma and 'On A
Night Like This' to Kylie Minogue.
Warnings: Yaoi (Duh), kissy stuff, violence, sap, very slight AU (that is, not specifically in the series timeline), not very good battle descriptions and maybe very slight OC on Heero's part.
Notes: I made this challenge to myself, to write a fic that somehow, however ambiguously, contained mangoes, hairties and Motel 6. No Motel 6 by the end of it, but hey, whtacha gonna do? That's more suited to an AU lemon, anyway.
Enjoy!
===
I keep on falling
In and out
Of love
With you
I never
Loved someone
The way that I
Love you
Oh-oh....
Alicia Keys: "Falling"
~~~
Part 1
"Don't you just love summer?" crowed Duo with delight, stretching his arms out wide and closing his eyes, allowing the warm sun to stream over his body. He sighed with satisfaction.
"Baka. You'll get burnt, put some sunscreen on," Heero remarked, sitting rigidly in the porch swing, quite a contrast to his companion's lazy sprawl.
The two teenagers would have a appeared harmless to any passer-by, but in fact, they were two of the most wanted people alive today. Gundam Pilots, both enjoying some time mission-free.
Duo opened one eye.
"Could this possibly be happening?" he replied in mock-amazement. "The great Heero Yuy, actually caring about someone?"
The pilot of Wing stood abruptly, sending the swing flying back and forcing the braided teen to grab the arm of it so as not to fall off.
"What'd you do that for?" Duo wailed.
Heero kept his back toward the other pilot, his wiry body framed by dazzling sunlight. His voice seemed to be forced through his throat.
"Don't you ever say I don't care."
The pilot of Deathscythe gaped as the other teen stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and strode away
~~~
"Awww, c'mon Heero! Just a couple of hours, please? For me?"
"I suppose. But not too long."
"Alright man! Surf's up!"
Duo grinned widely, and zoomed through house like a whirlwind, grabbing towels, food, cash, a couple of guns...
He piled all of the essential items in the jeep Quatre had kindly lent the pair while they were off-mission, and slid into the driver's seat. Heero joined him, walking sedately from the carefully locked front door to the passenger's seat. His face was fixed with a scowl.
"Hey, lighten up! We're supposed to be off-mission! Have some fun for once, Hee-chan."
"Don't call me Hee-chan."
Under his breath, he muttered, "Omae wo koruso."
On the floor of the porch, a bottle of sunscreen lay discarded on the floorboards.
~~~
"Mmmmm... Y'know, the only thing about summer that's better than going to the beach is eating mangoes on the beach!" Duo enthused, biting into the juicy flesh of the fruit in question. Several drops of sticky liquid dripped down his chin and onto the sand. Polishing off the rest of the tropical fruit in record time, he wiped his mouth with the corner of Heero's towel (much to the owner's disgust) and reclined back on the sand. He slipped a pair of shades over his eyes to screen the harsh sunlight, and let the summer work its magic...
Soon, he was fast asleep.
~~~
"Baka."
Duo squirmed.
"Wake up. You're burnt."
Duo twisted. The granules of sand grated onto his skin, and he yelped in pain.
"Itai! Owwwwww!"
"You're burnt. We need to get home," Heero repeated in a monotone, packing up the items neatly in a bundle, the opposite end of the spectrum to Duo's throwing the essentials on the backseat of the jeep.
The braided teen gritted his teeth as his movement stretched his raw, shiny pink skin, and carefully manoeuvered himself towards the jeep.
"Dammnit, why do I always get burnt whenever I go to the cursedly wonderful beach?" Duo asked the sky, hoping some nearby deity might answer his question. In vain, he waited.
"Because you never wear sunscreen." The voice of Heero Yuy was definitely not the ethereal one pilot 02 was waiting for.
"Urusai, Heero," Duo growled, in a harsher tone than he intended.
The two drove back to the safehouse in stony silence. When Heero parked the car, Duo carefully clambered out of the high-set vehicle, and trudged up the steps to their current dwelling. He kicked the sunscreen bottle that had been dropped on the porch, and slammed the screen door shut behind him.
Heero sat in front of the steering wheel for several long minutes, and sighed. He collected the bundle of various items from the backseat, and walked inside, in considerably less pain than his companion.
The sound of streams of water hitting the floor made Heero wince.
Sure enough, the unmistakable sound of Duo screaming in pain followed almost immediately. From then on, intermittent 'ows', 'itais' and varying degrees of profanity could be heard from the bathroom. Heero sighed with the relief when he heard the water stop running. Even Duo didn't deserve that kind of pain.
Clad only in a towel, Duo squeezed the moisture from his waterlogged mass of hair, and grimaced.
"Whoever said hot showers were good for sunburn was a masochist," he muttered, gritting his teeth as he rubbed his skin dry, the rough material chafing against his back.
"Heero?"
The pilot looked up from the thick physics textbook he was reading at the sound of his name. Duo walked into the kitchen, dressed only in a pair of baggy black pants.
Heero narrowed his eyes. Unfamiliar thoughts and feelings were flooding his brain... such as what a nice chest Duo had - not too muscular, but definitely not weak, and how his delicate bone structure was -
Where was all this coming from? He'd seen Duo bare-chested before and never reacted this way - had he?
Come to think of it, he had admired his comrade for a long time now, and surely it was only natural that he found his friend a little - okay, a lot - attractive on the physical side of things.
Stop it, Heero admonished himself. You distract yourself. Anyway, even if he did reciprocate your feelings - which he doesn't - you can't allow yourself to be blinded.
Too late. The pilot of Wing gazed at Duo, not realising the passion that clouded his eyes.
"Uh... gomen, Heero, but could you rub some mosturiser into my back, 'cause I can't reach and I can't sleep like this. It's okay if you don't wan-"
Heero made a guttural sound in his throat, effectively shutting the other boy up.
"Of course, baka. I don't want you unable to participate in our missions," Heero replied quickly, hoping he'd covered up his mistake. But oh, the thought of touching Duo's skin... feeling it slip like silk between his fingers...
Well, it wouldn't be silky at the moment, but what was reality to spoil his fantasy?
"Oh. Well, uh, thanks." Darn it, for a minute there I thought he cared.
Hold on, last week he said he cared.
What the hell are you playing at, Yuy?
~~~
One month later...
~~~
Duo's maniacal laugh rang over the comm-link that connected him with his fellow pilot.
"Don't mess with Death, man!" he crowed, slicing three overly-brave Leos with a single slash of his scythe.
Heero's mouth twitched as he heard Deathscythe's pilot whooping with every victory, and screeching with anger when something hit him, as the Perfect Soldier methodically cut down every obstacle in his way. He disintegrated a few rampaging mobile dolls, and spoke quickly over the link to his comrade.
"02, do you have the data?"
"Data retrieved, 01!"
"Then let's get the fuck out of here."
"Roger that, 01!"
Duo had to smile. Heero rarely dropped his soldierly, mechanical way of speaking, but when he did, it was hilarious.
As the two Gundams made a hasty retreat, the entire base burst into flames, thanks to Duo's stragetically placed and timed explosives.
Screams of dying men filled the air, and the pilot known as Shinigami felt the cold hand of guilt crawling up his back... any of those soldiers who just happened to be on the other side could have been his comrades.
The voices began to whisper...
"Mama, where's daddy? When is he coming home?"
"He's not coming home, honey."
Duo squeezed his eyes shut.
"What have you done with my husband? He was just a navigator - he never hurt you!"
He covered his ears.
"Duo? Are you okay?"
The tell-tale tear that had leaked out was brushed away with a quick sweep of his hand.
I'm sorry.
"Duo?" Heero repeated.
"Let's get home. I'm tired."
Silence.
"Heero?"
"We can make camp here. You've been badly knocked around."
Heero ignored his friend's protests over the comm-link, and ejected himself from his cockpit, tumbling onto the ground in a forest-surrounded clearing. He quickly covered their Gundams with a tarpaulin, although it was unlikely they would be seen from air, due to the thick canopy of trees, and they were at least twenty kilometres from the nearest human settlement. He heard Duo eject himself from Deathscythe's cockpit.
Duo lay on the ground in a foetal position, shivering uncontrollably. His normally pristine hair was falling out of its customary braid, and his body was covered in innummerable scratches, grazes and lesions.
Heero was at a loss. How should he console the boy? He remembered Duo hugging Quatre, Duo duelling with Wufei to take his mind off things, Duo cartwheeling around Trowa to cheer him up, Duo, Duo, Duo...
Long fingers shuddering, he reached hesitantly out to touch that trembling shoulder. A jolt passed through Heero's body as he made contact with his friend's ripped shirt. He began stroke Duo's shoulder, the rhythmic motion calming his nerves as well as appearing to help Duo's shivering subside. Gently, almost as if he were handling a porcelain doll, Heero eased his friend into a sitting position. Shock filled his eyes as he saw Duo's face - covered with dirt and scratches, tear-tracks running down his cheeks and his violet eyes filled with shame, hate, guilt...
"The voices, the voices, make them stop. It's not my fault, Heero, it's not my fault, is it? Tell me it's not my fault... it can't be... can it, can it - " Duo's voice was hoarse, broken with sobs, pleading, like a child.
"Ssh, Duo. It's not your fault," Heero murmured, looking into Duo's seemingly bottomless eyes. "It's not your fault."
The other pilot sighed, a long, shuddering sigh, collapsing against Heero's chest.
Pilot 01 froze. What now? What would Duo do?
He remembered Quatre in absolute hysterics because four civilians had been killed in a bomb explosion he'd set, and Duo running into the room, braid streaming behind him, to wrap his arms around the distraught blond. He'd rocked the other boy like a child, telling him it was okay, and hugged him tight, soothing...
Soothe. He needed to soothe the other pilot.
Heero willed his muscles to move. He carefully wrapped his arms around the pilot, and was rewarded with a sigh of contentment. Duo moved his head up slightly to bury it in the juncture of Heero's neck and collarbone. The hot, salty tears pooled in the hollow of his neck.
"I didn't want to hurt them, didn't want to widow their wives, orphan their children, kill their brothers..." Duo's voice trailed off. He laughed forlornly, no mirth in the sound. "Guess you think I'm pretty weak now, huh?" he continued, looking up into his friend's eyes.
"Iie."
"N-nani?"
"Compassion for the innocent does not make you weak, Duo. It may distract you, and it may cause you pain, but it makes you human," Heero explained softly. "More human than I could ever be," he finished in in a whisper.
"Ne, Heero?"
"Hn?"
"I think you're the most human of us all," Duo said, as a ghost of a smile passed his lips. He yawned.
"I need to catch some z's," he announced, crawling into the tent. He raised an eyebrow at Heero's quizzical expression.
"Catch - some - z's?"Heero repeated, tasting the words as though they were a foreign language.
"It's American slang, Heero," Duo explained. "It means, 'sleep'".
Heero, almost imperceptibly, rolled his eyes.
"Why didn't you just say that?"
He blinked in surprise as a pair of amtheyst eyes were suddenly very close to his. He could hear the other pilot's breathing, smell his musky scent partially screened by dirt, almost taste his lips...
Duo tweaked Heero's nose, startling the other teen.
"Just to see the cute confused expression on your face," he laughed. "Oyasumi, Hee-kun."
"Oyasumi, baka."
Normally Wing's pilot could sleep through and with any sound. But until Duo's breathing deepened and steadied, he remained awake on watch.
Aisheteru, Duo.
A pair of glowing violet eyes blinked sleepily at him.
"Didja say something?"
Heero jerked, startled. Curse it, he'd spoken aloud! Thank the gods his companion only knew swear-words and greetings in Japanese, or his life would have suddenly become very uncomfortable.
"Iie, Duo. Go back to sleep."
"Hai," murmured the other pilot, rolling over obediently.
Heero sighed in relief. Soon, he was also asleep.
Duo hoisted himself onto his side, gazing at the object of his affection. A thought struck him. He carried a small Japanese-English basic phrase book with him to work to find out when Heero was insulting him, or complimenting him; the latter was a rare occurence.
"Eye-ee-she-te-ru," he muttered, looking at the pronounciation index. "Page fourteen..."
A finger ran down the page, looking for the term. "Ah... aisheteru, here we go - what?"
Duo blinked. He stared at the page as though it were about to explode.
Aisheteru [Eye-ee-she-te-ru]: I love you
I love you.
Three such simple words, mused Duo. And he smiled. Maybe there was a chance after all.
~~~
"Uh... could you brush my hair for me? Only it'll be a complete and utter mess - "
"Hai."
"Uh, arigato, Heero."
Heero grabbed a battery-operated lamp from the supply kit he carried, as it wasn't yet dawn, while Duo scrabbled through his belongings for a brush, and sat crosslegged in front of his friend.
With slight trepidation, the teen lifted the braid and carefully eased the band off that was holding the mass of sunstreaked hair together. Heero held the simple, cotton covered elastic in his fingers, as though it were a most amazing artifact. He twisted it around his wrist, and began to pick out the leaves and clods of dirt that marred the tangled strands. When the hair was as clean as possible, Heero separated the knots with his fingers as best he could, and began to gently rake the brush through.
Duo seemed to purr in contentment, Heero realised as the strands of silky hair slipped through his fingers. All too soon, the task that had appeared to be such a chore, was over. Duo smiled at him, eyes crinkled in delight, and announced he was going for a walk before they returned to the safehouse.
Heero packed up their belongings, and was about to call Duo back, when, on a whim, he followed his friend's tracks. When he reached Duo, Heero's breath caught in his throat.
He stood on a small hill, lithe body framed by the fiery sunrise. A light breeze caught the loose strands of hair, making them wrap around his almost ethereal person. He was so beautiful - how could Heero ever hope to worthy of something so good?
But Duo turned, and Heero saw the fey-like image fall away. Innoncence lost pooled in his amethyst eyes, and all that was left was a fifteen-year old boy, scarred beyond belief both physically and mentally - and crying out for someone to make it better.
Warnings: Yaoi (Duh), kissy stuff, violence, sap, very slight AU (that is, not specifically in the series timeline), not very good battle descriptions and maybe very slight OC on Heero's part.
Notes: I made this challenge to myself, to write a fic that somehow, however ambiguously, contained mangoes, hairties and Motel 6. No Motel 6 by the end of it, but hey, whtacha gonna do? That's more suited to an AU lemon, anyway.
Enjoy!
===
I keep on falling
In and out
Of love
With you
I never
Loved someone
The way that I
Love you
Oh-oh....
Alicia Keys: "Falling"
~~~
Part 1
"Don't you just love summer?" crowed Duo with delight, stretching his arms out wide and closing his eyes, allowing the warm sun to stream over his body. He sighed with satisfaction.
"Baka. You'll get burnt, put some sunscreen on," Heero remarked, sitting rigidly in the porch swing, quite a contrast to his companion's lazy sprawl.
The two teenagers would have a appeared harmless to any passer-by, but in fact, they were two of the most wanted people alive today. Gundam Pilots, both enjoying some time mission-free.
Duo opened one eye.
"Could this possibly be happening?" he replied in mock-amazement. "The great Heero Yuy, actually caring about someone?"
The pilot of Wing stood abruptly, sending the swing flying back and forcing the braided teen to grab the arm of it so as not to fall off.
"What'd you do that for?" Duo wailed.
Heero kept his back toward the other pilot, his wiry body framed by dazzling sunlight. His voice seemed to be forced through his throat.
"Don't you ever say I don't care."
The pilot of Deathscythe gaped as the other teen stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and strode away
~~~
"Awww, c'mon Heero! Just a couple of hours, please? For me?"
"I suppose. But not too long."
"Alright man! Surf's up!"
Duo grinned widely, and zoomed through house like a whirlwind, grabbing towels, food, cash, a couple of guns...
He piled all of the essential items in the jeep Quatre had kindly lent the pair while they were off-mission, and slid into the driver's seat. Heero joined him, walking sedately from the carefully locked front door to the passenger's seat. His face was fixed with a scowl.
"Hey, lighten up! We're supposed to be off-mission! Have some fun for once, Hee-chan."
"Don't call me Hee-chan."
Under his breath, he muttered, "Omae wo koruso."
On the floor of the porch, a bottle of sunscreen lay discarded on the floorboards.
~~~
"Mmmmm... Y'know, the only thing about summer that's better than going to the beach is eating mangoes on the beach!" Duo enthused, biting into the juicy flesh of the fruit in question. Several drops of sticky liquid dripped down his chin and onto the sand. Polishing off the rest of the tropical fruit in record time, he wiped his mouth with the corner of Heero's towel (much to the owner's disgust) and reclined back on the sand. He slipped a pair of shades over his eyes to screen the harsh sunlight, and let the summer work its magic...
Soon, he was fast asleep.
~~~
"Baka."
Duo squirmed.
"Wake up. You're burnt."
Duo twisted. The granules of sand grated onto his skin, and he yelped in pain.
"Itai! Owwwwww!"
"You're burnt. We need to get home," Heero repeated in a monotone, packing up the items neatly in a bundle, the opposite end of the spectrum to Duo's throwing the essentials on the backseat of the jeep.
The braided teen gritted his teeth as his movement stretched his raw, shiny pink skin, and carefully manoeuvered himself towards the jeep.
"Dammnit, why do I always get burnt whenever I go to the cursedly wonderful beach?" Duo asked the sky, hoping some nearby deity might answer his question. In vain, he waited.
"Because you never wear sunscreen." The voice of Heero Yuy was definitely not the ethereal one pilot 02 was waiting for.
"Urusai, Heero," Duo growled, in a harsher tone than he intended.
The two drove back to the safehouse in stony silence. When Heero parked the car, Duo carefully clambered out of the high-set vehicle, and trudged up the steps to their current dwelling. He kicked the sunscreen bottle that had been dropped on the porch, and slammed the screen door shut behind him.
Heero sat in front of the steering wheel for several long minutes, and sighed. He collected the bundle of various items from the backseat, and walked inside, in considerably less pain than his companion.
The sound of streams of water hitting the floor made Heero wince.
Sure enough, the unmistakable sound of Duo screaming in pain followed almost immediately. From then on, intermittent 'ows', 'itais' and varying degrees of profanity could be heard from the bathroom. Heero sighed with the relief when he heard the water stop running. Even Duo didn't deserve that kind of pain.
Clad only in a towel, Duo squeezed the moisture from his waterlogged mass of hair, and grimaced.
"Whoever said hot showers were good for sunburn was a masochist," he muttered, gritting his teeth as he rubbed his skin dry, the rough material chafing against his back.
"Heero?"
The pilot looked up from the thick physics textbook he was reading at the sound of his name. Duo walked into the kitchen, dressed only in a pair of baggy black pants.
Heero narrowed his eyes. Unfamiliar thoughts and feelings were flooding his brain... such as what a nice chest Duo had - not too muscular, but definitely not weak, and how his delicate bone structure was -
Where was all this coming from? He'd seen Duo bare-chested before and never reacted this way - had he?
Come to think of it, he had admired his comrade for a long time now, and surely it was only natural that he found his friend a little - okay, a lot - attractive on the physical side of things.
Stop it, Heero admonished himself. You distract yourself. Anyway, even if he did reciprocate your feelings - which he doesn't - you can't allow yourself to be blinded.
Too late. The pilot of Wing gazed at Duo, not realising the passion that clouded his eyes.
"Uh... gomen, Heero, but could you rub some mosturiser into my back, 'cause I can't reach and I can't sleep like this. It's okay if you don't wan-"
Heero made a guttural sound in his throat, effectively shutting the other boy up.
"Of course, baka. I don't want you unable to participate in our missions," Heero replied quickly, hoping he'd covered up his mistake. But oh, the thought of touching Duo's skin... feeling it slip like silk between his fingers...
Well, it wouldn't be silky at the moment, but what was reality to spoil his fantasy?
"Oh. Well, uh, thanks." Darn it, for a minute there I thought he cared.
Hold on, last week he said he cared.
What the hell are you playing at, Yuy?
~~~
One month later...
~~~
Duo's maniacal laugh rang over the comm-link that connected him with his fellow pilot.
"Don't mess with Death, man!" he crowed, slicing three overly-brave Leos with a single slash of his scythe.
Heero's mouth twitched as he heard Deathscythe's pilot whooping with every victory, and screeching with anger when something hit him, as the Perfect Soldier methodically cut down every obstacle in his way. He disintegrated a few rampaging mobile dolls, and spoke quickly over the link to his comrade.
"02, do you have the data?"
"Data retrieved, 01!"
"Then let's get the fuck out of here."
"Roger that, 01!"
Duo had to smile. Heero rarely dropped his soldierly, mechanical way of speaking, but when he did, it was hilarious.
As the two Gundams made a hasty retreat, the entire base burst into flames, thanks to Duo's stragetically placed and timed explosives.
Screams of dying men filled the air, and the pilot known as Shinigami felt the cold hand of guilt crawling up his back... any of those soldiers who just happened to be on the other side could have been his comrades.
The voices began to whisper...
"Mama, where's daddy? When is he coming home?"
"He's not coming home, honey."
Duo squeezed his eyes shut.
"What have you done with my husband? He was just a navigator - he never hurt you!"
He covered his ears.
"Duo? Are you okay?"
The tell-tale tear that had leaked out was brushed away with a quick sweep of his hand.
I'm sorry.
"Duo?" Heero repeated.
"Let's get home. I'm tired."
Silence.
"Heero?"
"We can make camp here. You've been badly knocked around."
Heero ignored his friend's protests over the comm-link, and ejected himself from his cockpit, tumbling onto the ground in a forest-surrounded clearing. He quickly covered their Gundams with a tarpaulin, although it was unlikely they would be seen from air, due to the thick canopy of trees, and they were at least twenty kilometres from the nearest human settlement. He heard Duo eject himself from Deathscythe's cockpit.
Duo lay on the ground in a foetal position, shivering uncontrollably. His normally pristine hair was falling out of its customary braid, and his body was covered in innummerable scratches, grazes and lesions.
Heero was at a loss. How should he console the boy? He remembered Duo hugging Quatre, Duo duelling with Wufei to take his mind off things, Duo cartwheeling around Trowa to cheer him up, Duo, Duo, Duo...
Long fingers shuddering, he reached hesitantly out to touch that trembling shoulder. A jolt passed through Heero's body as he made contact with his friend's ripped shirt. He began stroke Duo's shoulder, the rhythmic motion calming his nerves as well as appearing to help Duo's shivering subside. Gently, almost as if he were handling a porcelain doll, Heero eased his friend into a sitting position. Shock filled his eyes as he saw Duo's face - covered with dirt and scratches, tear-tracks running down his cheeks and his violet eyes filled with shame, hate, guilt...
"The voices, the voices, make them stop. It's not my fault, Heero, it's not my fault, is it? Tell me it's not my fault... it can't be... can it, can it - " Duo's voice was hoarse, broken with sobs, pleading, like a child.
"Ssh, Duo. It's not your fault," Heero murmured, looking into Duo's seemingly bottomless eyes. "It's not your fault."
The other pilot sighed, a long, shuddering sigh, collapsing against Heero's chest.
Pilot 01 froze. What now? What would Duo do?
He remembered Quatre in absolute hysterics because four civilians had been killed in a bomb explosion he'd set, and Duo running into the room, braid streaming behind him, to wrap his arms around the distraught blond. He'd rocked the other boy like a child, telling him it was okay, and hugged him tight, soothing...
Soothe. He needed to soothe the other pilot.
Heero willed his muscles to move. He carefully wrapped his arms around the pilot, and was rewarded with a sigh of contentment. Duo moved his head up slightly to bury it in the juncture of Heero's neck and collarbone. The hot, salty tears pooled in the hollow of his neck.
"I didn't want to hurt them, didn't want to widow their wives, orphan their children, kill their brothers..." Duo's voice trailed off. He laughed forlornly, no mirth in the sound. "Guess you think I'm pretty weak now, huh?" he continued, looking up into his friend's eyes.
"Iie."
"N-nani?"
"Compassion for the innocent does not make you weak, Duo. It may distract you, and it may cause you pain, but it makes you human," Heero explained softly. "More human than I could ever be," he finished in in a whisper.
"Ne, Heero?"
"Hn?"
"I think you're the most human of us all," Duo said, as a ghost of a smile passed his lips. He yawned.
"I need to catch some z's," he announced, crawling into the tent. He raised an eyebrow at Heero's quizzical expression.
"Catch - some - z's?"Heero repeated, tasting the words as though they were a foreign language.
"It's American slang, Heero," Duo explained. "It means, 'sleep'".
Heero, almost imperceptibly, rolled his eyes.
"Why didn't you just say that?"
He blinked in surprise as a pair of amtheyst eyes were suddenly very close to his. He could hear the other pilot's breathing, smell his musky scent partially screened by dirt, almost taste his lips...
Duo tweaked Heero's nose, startling the other teen.
"Just to see the cute confused expression on your face," he laughed. "Oyasumi, Hee-kun."
"Oyasumi, baka."
Normally Wing's pilot could sleep through and with any sound. But until Duo's breathing deepened and steadied, he remained awake on watch.
Aisheteru, Duo.
A pair of glowing violet eyes blinked sleepily at him.
"Didja say something?"
Heero jerked, startled. Curse it, he'd spoken aloud! Thank the gods his companion only knew swear-words and greetings in Japanese, or his life would have suddenly become very uncomfortable.
"Iie, Duo. Go back to sleep."
"Hai," murmured the other pilot, rolling over obediently.
Heero sighed in relief. Soon, he was also asleep.
Duo hoisted himself onto his side, gazing at the object of his affection. A thought struck him. He carried a small Japanese-English basic phrase book with him to work to find out when Heero was insulting him, or complimenting him; the latter was a rare occurence.
"Eye-ee-she-te-ru," he muttered, looking at the pronounciation index. "Page fourteen..."
A finger ran down the page, looking for the term. "Ah... aisheteru, here we go - what?"
Duo blinked. He stared at the page as though it were about to explode.
Aisheteru [Eye-ee-she-te-ru]: I love you
I love you.
Three such simple words, mused Duo. And he smiled. Maybe there was a chance after all.
~~~
"Uh... could you brush my hair for me? Only it'll be a complete and utter mess - "
"Hai."
"Uh, arigato, Heero."
Heero grabbed a battery-operated lamp from the supply kit he carried, as it wasn't yet dawn, while Duo scrabbled through his belongings for a brush, and sat crosslegged in front of his friend.
With slight trepidation, the teen lifted the braid and carefully eased the band off that was holding the mass of sunstreaked hair together. Heero held the simple, cotton covered elastic in his fingers, as though it were a most amazing artifact. He twisted it around his wrist, and began to pick out the leaves and clods of dirt that marred the tangled strands. When the hair was as clean as possible, Heero separated the knots with his fingers as best he could, and began to gently rake the brush through.
Duo seemed to purr in contentment, Heero realised as the strands of silky hair slipped through his fingers. All too soon, the task that had appeared to be such a chore, was over. Duo smiled at him, eyes crinkled in delight, and announced he was going for a walk before they returned to the safehouse.
Heero packed up their belongings, and was about to call Duo back, when, on a whim, he followed his friend's tracks. When he reached Duo, Heero's breath caught in his throat.
He stood on a small hill, lithe body framed by the fiery sunrise. A light breeze caught the loose strands of hair, making them wrap around his almost ethereal person. He was so beautiful - how could Heero ever hope to worthy of something so good?
But Duo turned, and Heero saw the fey-like image fall away. Innoncence lost pooled in his amethyst eyes, and all that was left was a fifteen-year old boy, scarred beyond belief both physically and mentally - and crying out for someone to make it better.