Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and it's characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: A mush fic I wrote while watching my boyfriend sleep.
Warnings: Shounen-ai, sap.
*************************************************************
Duo walked quietly to his and Heero's room. It was very late, and even the Perfect Soldier needed
sleep every once in a while. To his surprise he noticed the light in their room was still on.
Frowning, he opened the door cautiously. The sight that met his eyes was one which transformed
the ever present, and somewhat fake, grin into a smile of true amusment. Heero had fallen asleep
with the damnable laptop lying next to him.
Chuckling to himself -- this was something Duo had never seen since he'd met Heero -- the hyper
pilot of Deathscythe Hell tiptoed into the room. Gently, so as not to wake up his sleeping partner,
Duo picked up the Japanese boy and carefully layed him in bed throwing a blanket over him in the
process.
Turing back to the laptop, he closed the programs running on it one by one (making sure to save
everything Heero had been working on, Duo did _not_ have a deathwish). For the first time
Duo got a look at the picture Heero always had in the background, it was a digital picture of the five
pilots, with Duo in the center.
It took a moment to register, but as Duo looked closer he noticed the faint outline of a heart
around his own face. Blinking he turned to look at the sleeping form of Heero.
Only to find blazing colbolt eyes staring back at him.
Tears welled up in Duo's eyes, as Heero held out his arms. Without hesitation Duo lay down
next to Heero.
"I found the poem you wrote."
Heero's voice, which was not it's usual monotone, startled Duo. "And the answer is yes."
Sighing in complete contentment Duo snuggled closer to Heero.
And a single sheet of paper lay on the floor, scrawled in the penmenship of one who calls himself
Shinigami. On it was a hastily written poem:
Nighttime falls, and sleep beckons,
I find myself thinking that there is somewhere
Better for me to be.
You are so close and yet so far,
I find myself wondering if the distance
Can be traveled.
In my bed, eyes wide open, thinking of you,
I find myself hoping that sometimes
You think of me too.
Near sleep, feeling phantom arms hugging me,
I find myself whispering to the darkness
I love you.
Heero, do you love me too?
Author's Notes: A mush fic I wrote while watching my boyfriend sleep.
Warnings: Shounen-ai, sap.
*************************************************************
Duo walked quietly to his and Heero's room. It was very late, and even the Perfect Soldier needed
sleep every once in a while. To his surprise he noticed the light in their room was still on.
Frowning, he opened the door cautiously. The sight that met his eyes was one which transformed
the ever present, and somewhat fake, grin into a smile of true amusment. Heero had fallen asleep
with the damnable laptop lying next to him.
Chuckling to himself -- this was something Duo had never seen since he'd met Heero -- the hyper
pilot of Deathscythe Hell tiptoed into the room. Gently, so as not to wake up his sleeping partner,
Duo picked up the Japanese boy and carefully layed him in bed throwing a blanket over him in the
process.
Turing back to the laptop, he closed the programs running on it one by one (making sure to save
everything Heero had been working on, Duo did _not_ have a deathwish). For the first time
Duo got a look at the picture Heero always had in the background, it was a digital picture of the five
pilots, with Duo in the center.
It took a moment to register, but as Duo looked closer he noticed the faint outline of a heart
around his own face. Blinking he turned to look at the sleeping form of Heero.
Only to find blazing colbolt eyes staring back at him.
Tears welled up in Duo's eyes, as Heero held out his arms. Without hesitation Duo lay down
next to Heero.
"I found the poem you wrote."
Heero's voice, which was not it's usual monotone, startled Duo. "And the answer is yes."
Sighing in complete contentment Duo snuggled closer to Heero.
And a single sheet of paper lay on the floor, scrawled in the penmenship of one who calls himself
Shinigami. On it was a hastily written poem:
Nighttime falls, and sleep beckons,
I find myself thinking that there is somewhere
Better for me to be.
You are so close and yet so far,
I find myself wondering if the distance
Can be traveled.
In my bed, eyes wide open, thinking of you,
I find myself hoping that sometimes
You think of me too.
Near sleep, feeling phantom arms hugging me,
I find myself whispering to the darkness
I love you.
Heero, do you love me too?