AN: I don't own Gundam Wing. I don't own the song-- I don't know who does.
It's an old doo-wop song though, and I like it. Inspired when I was singing
it at work and reminded myself to beta-read a fic. My first Gundam Wing fic
I've ever completed-- a one-shot songfic. Yay. Rated PG-13 for hints of
language and hints as subtle as cinderblocks of shounen-ai. I send out love
to the Chibi-Master who read this and helped me out, and send out love to
God, who's blessed me with a love for writing that I can share with all of
you. You Belong to Me.
It had been three years since Heero had shown up on the Gundam Isle. He was sick of it. He had been to every base and back again working security for the new regime, doing every task from making the computers hacker-proof to teaching soldiers how to clean a trigger housing. And everyday he spent away from home killed him.
Gundam Isle was located in Macronesia, small enough to be over looked but big enough to hold five estates as a retirement gift from the Peacecraft family. Each pilot spent their free time there, riding horses, lying on the beach, sparring, screaming as one of Duo's toys attacked Trowa's menagerie. It was a paradise, but it lacked something. It lacked the pilots. Quatre had been looking into new business ventures, the most promising of which the ferry system to exchange goods between the colonies and earth-- Trowa, as could be expected, was tagging at his heels, sitting in the hotel rooms and watching his love work. Duo sat in his plush office all day, flicking paperclips and watching them ricochet off the walls, fiddling with the grand piano in the corner of the room.
Duo leaned forward, the pads of his fingers stroking along the keys. He began to sing... softly.
See the pyramids
Along the Nile
Watch the sun rise
On a tropic isle
Just remember darling
All the while
You belong to me...
"I think we're just about done here, sir," said the lieutenant, looking up from the monitor. "The defense system worked just like it was supposed to, despite the change of plans. I'll write up a full report for Minister Darlian--erm, Peacecraft. Or, is it Darlian again?"
"Hn," was Heero's witty reply.
The lieutenant smiled before starting to type again. "Do I have your support, sir?" he asked Heero, turning in his chair.
Heero looked over the man's shoulder. He had to be twenty-eight, and Heero only 19. What an insult for the man to be ordered around by a boy. "You may quote me; the tests have proven the system successful. Egypt's bases should be secure against any threat any man is at the moment capable of. However, I will not stay to see that it is successful against true targets, as I will be returning home. Send the minister my highest regards, and tell her that I am sick to death of working all the time. I am retired. I will remain so. Good day."
A sergeant who had been filing papers suddenly laughed as Heero shut the door behind him. "I think he just said more than he's ever said, combined, sir," the sergeant wheezed before silence by a cold look from the lieutenant.
See the market place
In old Algiers
Send me photographs
And souvenirs
Just remember
'Til your dream appears
You belong to me....
Heero stepped into the bright sunlight, looking from store to store. His briefcase was heavy on his shoulder, his eyelids even heavier. As he walked from window to store front, his eyes kept catching on the same object, a tiny glass statue of a boy sitting on a hill, looking upwards. The boy had his legs stretched out in front of him, his arms supporting all his weight. Heero placed his hand against the glass, his fingertips trying so hard to touch the piece. Oh, Duo, thought Heero, I wish you were here. You would love this... A hand appeared on his shoulder, which Heero promptly grabbed, using his small form as a fulcrum, and flipped the body attached to it over him and into the glass window, the thud sound promising that the current thought running through the body was "Pain, much pain."
Heero looked at the man, his platinum blonde hair, his dark green eyes, his lithe form. The man was beautiful... he leaned toward the man, demanding, "Who are you?"
"M-my name is Colin," he answered quickly. "I made that piece you were looking at, I wanted to talk to you, don't hurt me, please," he cried.
"Hn." Heero let him up, taking a step back.
Colin ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have startled you that way, only, I saw how happy you looked with the piece, and I was going to see if you wanted to look at some of my others. I didn't want to hurt you, really, I didn't."
Heero simply glared before walking into the shop, the blonde at his heels. "My, aren't we talkative?" Colin poked. "Then again, maybe you don't want to talk? I'm sure we can find other, more entertaining, forms of communication.
"Oh, don't worry, I'm not this nice to all my clients, just those as lovely as my work. Or lovelier, in this case."
The former pilot looked strangely at the man, a look of complete loathing. "I'm leaving," Heero stated in a voice colder than he had ever used.
"Where to, lovely?" the man persisted. "You can pin me again, if you'd like."
The next time I pin you, the only thing I'll stick inside will be bullets. Heero grinned at his own thoughts before storming out of the store. At the end of the market street was a large church-- the only Christian church left in Egypt. He headed in that direction.
I'll be so alone
Without you
Maybe
You'll be lonesome too
And blue
The man followed. Heero hoped that appearing pious, or at least somewhat spiritual, might stop the man. He knew that when he first started to fall in love with Duo, the fact that the boy was Catholic terrified him. Surely God would smite those who would try to corrupt him-- although, Heero thought with a smirk-- Duo corrupted him more often then not. His eyes drifted towards the large cross atop the steeple; how many times had Heero ran his hands along the chest beneath such a cross? He felt his heart tear in his chest. How long had it been? Three years-- three damn years and not so much as a kiss to show for it.
Duo looked at the sheet music in front of him.
The man followed Heero. "Trying to lose me, lovely?" he asked once he saw the destination.
Heero turned around. "I already have a lover," he snarled.
"Oh, good then. I love a man with experience."
"Not that kind of experience," Quatre said from the street. Trowa looked at the two men. "How many people have died at his hands? Twenty? Two hundred? Two thousand? The man in front of you has a reputation for murder. Perhaps you best find someone else."
"When did you arrive in Egypt?" Heero asked, his eyebrow raised.
Quatre smiled. "I received a special invitation from Relena to a summit this week regarding colonial agriculture."
Colin stared. "You're too beautiful to be a murderer," he whispered.
"And your work is too pure for a lecher," Heero replied curtly, before falling in step with Quatre. "When was the last time you were on the Isle?"
"Three months ago," answered Quatre. "And Duo is rather depressed."
Heero looked at the ground below him.
"Perhaps you should return home? For his sake if not your own; although I admit, you look like you're about to rip apart the next thing to touch your hands."
Trowa smiled slightly. "Go home and lose yourself," he said, filling his daily word quota.
Heero looked at the horizon, and nodded.
Fly the ocean
In a silver plane
See the jungle
When its wet with rain
Just remember
Till you're home again
You belong to me.
Duo's fingers glided from key to key, playing in such a soft tone he could barely hear the notes. He could here the soft metronome, tick, tick, tick, thud, thud-- thud? Duo looked up to see someone walking into his office. Dark brown hair falling over glowing azure eyes, a strong chest visible from an open button-down shirt, and a face that bore no emotion. Duo smiled.
And the face, so cold, smiled warmly back.
"Heero," Duo whispered, standing. "Heero, you're home."
Heero held out his arms, pulled Duo close, and placed a single, feathered kiss on his thin lips. It was more than Duo could take. He reached out and pulled Heero's head closer, turning the kiss frantic. "Of course I'm home," Heero whispered between kisses.
"Good," Duo replied. "You're mine." With one more kiss he murmured, "You belong to only me."
/You Belong to Me
AN: Please give me critiques in addition to a review. I want to make my next fic even better. Thank you for your support and your time . Has box of Heero's and Duo's in the back to hand to reviewers. Keeps all the Trowa's for herself. Sorry if the format's awful-- I don't know what I did to make it that way.
It had been three years since Heero had shown up on the Gundam Isle. He was sick of it. He had been to every base and back again working security for the new regime, doing every task from making the computers hacker-proof to teaching soldiers how to clean a trigger housing. And everyday he spent away from home killed him.
Gundam Isle was located in Macronesia, small enough to be over looked but big enough to hold five estates as a retirement gift from the Peacecraft family. Each pilot spent their free time there, riding horses, lying on the beach, sparring, screaming as one of Duo's toys attacked Trowa's menagerie. It was a paradise, but it lacked something. It lacked the pilots. Quatre had been looking into new business ventures, the most promising of which the ferry system to exchange goods between the colonies and earth-- Trowa, as could be expected, was tagging at his heels, sitting in the hotel rooms and watching his love work. Duo sat in his plush office all day, flicking paperclips and watching them ricochet off the walls, fiddling with the grand piano in the corner of the room.
Duo leaned forward, the pads of his fingers stroking along the keys. He began to sing... softly.
See the pyramids
Along the Nile
Watch the sun rise
On a tropic isle
Just remember darling
All the while
You belong to me...
"I think we're just about done here, sir," said the lieutenant, looking up from the monitor. "The defense system worked just like it was supposed to, despite the change of plans. I'll write up a full report for Minister Darlian--erm, Peacecraft. Or, is it Darlian again?"
"Hn," was Heero's witty reply.
The lieutenant smiled before starting to type again. "Do I have your support, sir?" he asked Heero, turning in his chair.
Heero looked over the man's shoulder. He had to be twenty-eight, and Heero only 19. What an insult for the man to be ordered around by a boy. "You may quote me; the tests have proven the system successful. Egypt's bases should be secure against any threat any man is at the moment capable of. However, I will not stay to see that it is successful against true targets, as I will be returning home. Send the minister my highest regards, and tell her that I am sick to death of working all the time. I am retired. I will remain so. Good day."
A sergeant who had been filing papers suddenly laughed as Heero shut the door behind him. "I think he just said more than he's ever said, combined, sir," the sergeant wheezed before silence by a cold look from the lieutenant.
See the market place
In old Algiers
Send me photographs
And souvenirs
Just remember
'Til your dream appears
You belong to me....
Heero stepped into the bright sunlight, looking from store to store. His briefcase was heavy on his shoulder, his eyelids even heavier. As he walked from window to store front, his eyes kept catching on the same object, a tiny glass statue of a boy sitting on a hill, looking upwards. The boy had his legs stretched out in front of him, his arms supporting all his weight. Heero placed his hand against the glass, his fingertips trying so hard to touch the piece. Oh, Duo, thought Heero, I wish you were here. You would love this... A hand appeared on his shoulder, which Heero promptly grabbed, using his small form as a fulcrum, and flipped the body attached to it over him and into the glass window, the thud sound promising that the current thought running through the body was "Pain, much pain."
Heero looked at the man, his platinum blonde hair, his dark green eyes, his lithe form. The man was beautiful... he leaned toward the man, demanding, "Who are you?"
"M-my name is Colin," he answered quickly. "I made that piece you were looking at, I wanted to talk to you, don't hurt me, please," he cried.
"Hn." Heero let him up, taking a step back.
Colin ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have startled you that way, only, I saw how happy you looked with the piece, and I was going to see if you wanted to look at some of my others. I didn't want to hurt you, really, I didn't."
Heero simply glared before walking into the shop, the blonde at his heels. "My, aren't we talkative?" Colin poked. "Then again, maybe you don't want to talk? I'm sure we can find other, more entertaining, forms of communication.
"Oh, don't worry, I'm not this nice to all my clients, just those as lovely as my work. Or lovelier, in this case."
The former pilot looked strangely at the man, a look of complete loathing. "I'm leaving," Heero stated in a voice colder than he had ever used.
"Where to, lovely?" the man persisted. "You can pin me again, if you'd like."
The next time I pin you, the only thing I'll stick inside will be bullets. Heero grinned at his own thoughts before storming out of the store. At the end of the market street was a large church-- the only Christian church left in Egypt. He headed in that direction.
I'll be so alone
Without you
Maybe
You'll be lonesome too
And blue
The man followed. Heero hoped that appearing pious, or at least somewhat spiritual, might stop the man. He knew that when he first started to fall in love with Duo, the fact that the boy was Catholic terrified him. Surely God would smite those who would try to corrupt him-- although, Heero thought with a smirk-- Duo corrupted him more often then not. His eyes drifted towards the large cross atop the steeple; how many times had Heero ran his hands along the chest beneath such a cross? He felt his heart tear in his chest. How long had it been? Three years-- three damn years and not so much as a kiss to show for it.
Duo looked at the sheet music in front of him.
The man followed Heero. "Trying to lose me, lovely?" he asked once he saw the destination.
Heero turned around. "I already have a lover," he snarled.
"Oh, good then. I love a man with experience."
"Not that kind of experience," Quatre said from the street. Trowa looked at the two men. "How many people have died at his hands? Twenty? Two hundred? Two thousand? The man in front of you has a reputation for murder. Perhaps you best find someone else."
"When did you arrive in Egypt?" Heero asked, his eyebrow raised.
Quatre smiled. "I received a special invitation from Relena to a summit this week regarding colonial agriculture."
Colin stared. "You're too beautiful to be a murderer," he whispered.
"And your work is too pure for a lecher," Heero replied curtly, before falling in step with Quatre. "When was the last time you were on the Isle?"
"Three months ago," answered Quatre. "And Duo is rather depressed."
Heero looked at the ground below him.
"Perhaps you should return home? For his sake if not your own; although I admit, you look like you're about to rip apart the next thing to touch your hands."
Trowa smiled slightly. "Go home and lose yourself," he said, filling his daily word quota.
Heero looked at the horizon, and nodded.
Fly the ocean
In a silver plane
See the jungle
When its wet with rain
Just remember
Till you're home again
You belong to me.
Duo's fingers glided from key to key, playing in such a soft tone he could barely hear the notes. He could here the soft metronome, tick, tick, tick, thud, thud-- thud? Duo looked up to see someone walking into his office. Dark brown hair falling over glowing azure eyes, a strong chest visible from an open button-down shirt, and a face that bore no emotion. Duo smiled.
And the face, so cold, smiled warmly back.
"Heero," Duo whispered, standing. "Heero, you're home."
Heero held out his arms, pulled Duo close, and placed a single, feathered kiss on his thin lips. It was more than Duo could take. He reached out and pulled Heero's head closer, turning the kiss frantic. "Of course I'm home," Heero whispered between kisses.
"Good," Duo replied. "You're mine." With one more kiss he murmured, "You belong to only me."
/You Belong to Me
AN: Please give me critiques in addition to a review. I want to make my next fic even better. Thank you for your support and your time . Has box of Heero's and Duo's in the back to hand to reviewers. Keeps all the Trowa's for herself. Sorry if the format's awful-- I don't know what I did to make it that way.