title: this is how i see you, author: merith, fandom/pairing: gundam wing / heero/duo, warnings: angst, melancholy-sap, waffy moments, BL, memories of sex, weird POV, different style (for me)

notes: oh boy, where to start. k - this was written to meet tsukibug's request for heero and duo, penguins. A mix of blues and sap. and since this song has been driving me nuts (in the good sort of way), i've set the story to sarah mclachlan's wintersong. also, there's mention of another story, which is true, about a pair of penguins. (read it! read it!) ...i think that's it for notes, other than the usual - this is a short fiction story to meet day eightteen of lemon advent on the lemonadvent community. and a special thanks to raz for making sure i got the commas in the right places.


It is now twenty-two days that you've been gone, and I am awake late into the night again. I know the look of our ceiling well, by light and in the dark. The night stretches before me, and I can't help but remember. Remember our last night here together.

I can just see your face in outline, your hair hanging loose over your shoulders, and the curve of your lips in that half smile you use to hide what you really want to say. Sex that night reflected the mood. Hungry and urgent, and minutes later, desperate and clinging. And you matched me in intensity, holding me, pushing me to the edge and beyond.

Through the night, I watched you sleep, keeping your body in touch with mine. Your face, so familiar to me, shows new lines, and I wondered, then, when the years had passed. Counting every breath you took, and every flutter of your eyelids, the hours continued towards morning. Your arms welcomed me, and your body opened up to mine. The frenetic passion that fed our earlier desperation was gone; in deliberate slowness, I lengthened our time together. Every touch, every kiss, every sound was for you.

The alarm rang far too soon, and we let it beep-beep-beep, holding each other, touching each other. 'A month isn't that long,' you say to me with a laugh, smiling. I shake my head, willing to believe your words. In the end, you rise and shower, leaving me to follow. But, as I stand in the bathroom doorway, I see your shoulders shake under the water's spray and turn away.

Breakfast was more than a bowl of oatmeal, but eaten just as fast. You left on your own, taking your car just in case. And I watched you leave, standing out on the front steps until long after your car disappeared from view.

It is well past midnight when I give up hope for sleep, and rise. In the dark chill of the room, I dress, pulling on jeans and socks, and the sweater you threatened to cut in pieces. The path to the kitchen is lit by moonlight coming through the window, glinting off the hardwood.

Unsure of why I'm there, I stand at the sink. But, I take down a glass and pour water from the tap anyway. It is your glass I bring to my lips, the water sours in my mouth. A lark, you chose the Caped Crusader of old, and refused to use any other. I empty the glass and leave it in the sink.

Being inside is suddenly too close, and I long for the cold. Hardly a surprise, I pull on coat and gloves, and shove my feet into boots, barely taking the time to tie the laces before I'm outside.

I stand in our yard, bare and brown and am strongly reminded of the year we first arrived. Of how you stood there just before the tall oak, with your arms thrust into the air, shouting for the world to hear your demand for snow. Of how you looked to the stars and shouted equally as loud that you 'love Heero Yuy' and 'no one could tell you different'. I stayed on the porch, calling you an idiot for not putting on a coat.

But that night, I watched you sleep. And told you the secrets of my heart.

The lake holds a layer of ice, not quite thick enough for skating; it is far too soon in the season for it. But, soon after you return, it should be ready. If the weather stays on course. Your skates are oiled, and hang on its peg in the front closet. And I can almost feel the bite of the air stinging on my cheeks, chasing you across the ice, racing you for home, laughing as we crash and fall on our asses together.

On the shore, I watch the sky; watch the moon pass time; watch the glint of its light crack the ice. The satellite you're overseeing the construction of should be impossible to find, but I do. The night before you left, we stood in this very spot, plotting the coordinates. 'Not so far away,' you'd laughed. And home was 'second to the right, and straight on 'til morning'. Very Peter of you.

Christmas lights shine bright across the lake, inviting in-between the dark smudge of trees. My eyes find the houses, naming each neighbor. Even after eleven years, few have changed. 'Known and expected,' is what you said. Stable and devoted, is what I've always thought.

Had you stayed, you would have added our lights to the lake's festive look. I tried, and failed; after taking them from storage, I lost the desire. It is something we do together, and it didn't feel right without you. I'll face your questions if you ask, but somehow, I don't think you will.

The sun is replacing the moon, and I turn from the lake, heading back to the cabin. From the house steps, the penguins greet me through the window. Ironically, they are my only concession to decorating; the statues dressed in winter gear that you insisted on buying that day in Pittsburgh. You told me then of a story about a pair of penguins, of how they once lived in a zoo, and fell in love. Not different from any other penguins in zoos all over the world, but these two were male. And they made a life together.

It is Christmas morning, and feels like judgment day.

Body weary, I am in our room, shedding clothes and letting them fall where I stand. Naked between the sheets, cold and empty, I long for sleep. Your pillow still smells faintly of you, and I curl around it, holding it close to my chest. I whisper that I miss you, and can see your smile.

"I love you," I say out loud, insistently.

"I know," I hear in answer, and sleep is there, pulling me into dreams of you.


(i actually had a small snippet of an additional ending, one that closes it on a more happy note, but it felt wrong, contrived. so... i leave it as it stands.)

enjoy?