Fandom: Gundam Wing
Rating: NC-15/M
Pairings: Duo x Heero (2x1)
Warnings: Angst. Yaoi.
Disclaimer: I do not own them although I would like that. Heero sweet and strong here, Duo passionate madcap. What's new? No need for this to change though... All rights with their original owners.
Spoilers: None.
Prequel: None
Sequel: Perhaps you would like to read on with "Good Night".
Summary: Duo coming home from a mission, or is it Shinigami who turns up for dinner?
xxx
Duo hesitated in front of the door to their apartment: coming home from a mission had never been easy for him. He adjusted the shoulderstrap of his holdall, quickly passed his free hand over his hair – washed, combed and neatly pleated – and tugged his shirt smooth, before he hesitantly turned the key in the lock and nudged the door open.
From the kitchen floated radio music and the clatter of pans, along with the aroma of coffee and steaming rice. A small smile touched Duo's lips. Heero cooking – it had taken him more time to get used to the idea than Heero who just tackled it as another mission. He was good at that, putting things into little boxes, systematically labelled and stacked neatly in his mind, each in its proper place. As long as he could fit it into familiar terms, he could handle it. He would battle the pans, conquer the stove and win by serving a meal at the end of it all. And the kitchen would still be reasonably tidy afterwards.
The smile widening into a wistful grin as Duo stepped inside, clicked the door shut, and carefully set down the bag. He would only now and then storm in, whip up something edible, and leave dirty dishes piling high in the sink. Heero who would punish him with angry glares but do the washing up anyway because Duo could easily outwait him on this.
A good soldier knew when a battle was lost, and live to fight another day. Duo chuckled, a low grumble deep in his throat as he sat down on the tatami floor to tug off his boots, then he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. For a heartbeat or two, he soaked up the familiar smells and sounds of their home. The place that was home because Heero lived here. Duo could hear him hum along with the radio and padded softly across. The kitchen door stood open, and he leaned against the doorjamb to watch Heero who was bent over the rice steamer, his back to Duo.
"Don't you think I didn't hear you," he said, and Duo could hear a streak of amusement in his voice.
"Hell, yeah, but one of these days I will surprise you," he sulked, walking into the small room, straight to the fridge for a beer.
"Can't you wait?" Heero shot a disapproving glare over his shoulder, then he straightened and looked Duo over who ignored him, cracked open a can and let the fridge door slam shut. "And close that damn door, don't bang it."
Duo hesitated, can lifted halfway to his mouth, and met Heero's gaze, before he deliberately opened the door and let it fall shut again. "Like that?"
Heero pressed his lips together hard, but then only grabbed the rice steamer and plonked it onto the table. "Dinner's ready." He stalked off into the lounge, and a moment later the television came on, along with the clicking of his laptop keyboard.
Duo prowled after him. Heero crouched on the couch, laptop on his knees, his fingers spidering over the keyboard in a flurry, the television casting faint blue shades over his pale face. His hair hid most of it, but from the set of his shoulders and the harsh line of his mouth, Duo could tell he would have to deal with a mini tornado any moment.
He stepped behind the sofa and sat on his heels, arms folded on the backrest, chin on his hands, turning the damp, cool can against his cheek. "Hey, I didn't mean it."
Heero kept hammering onto the keys, a slight tensing of his arms his only reaction. Duo shifted a little closer, so that his breath caught in a few stray brown bangs. He smiled as Heero predictably swayed away, never stopping his typing.
"C'mon, man. Have a drink. Relax." He teased the misted can over Heero's bare arm, from his cheek down over the side of his neck, his shoulder and along smooth muscles, to turn and journey back up from the elbow. Heero's skin crawled with goosepimples, but he did not flinch. "Hey, ice cube," Duo growled, beginning to itch at the lack of reaction.
"Shut up, Duo," came the clipped reply. "Go have dinner and get some sleep instead of going on my nerves."
Wow, a long sentence, Duo thought grimly, and said, "Nerves? Really? I've not been here for long enough."
"Yes, you have. Now, nightie-night, and be a good boy."
Heero was patronising him, knowing it was a surefire way to wind Duo up. Hell, yeah, it always worked: one had to meet expectations after all. "But I've always been a bad boy." He laced one hand into Heero's hair and without warning, pulled hard, tugging his head backwards.
"Ack! What d'you think-"
Duo rose enough to lean over and nip his exposed throat. "Thinking's your job. I'm a baka, remember?" Heero was about to protest, but his words dissolved into a painful hiss as Duo bit down sharply on the soft skin between jaw and ear, only to quickly soothe the welt with a flick of his tongue.
"I hate it when you turn up like this," Heero gasped. "Let go of me. Now."
"You wish," Duo snarled into his mouth, jabbing his tongue between Heero's lips, but he noticed the slight shift as Heero cautiously moved the laptop to the seat and coiled up. Duo fell back in time to avoid two hard hands coming for his throat. Heero got up and stilled, looking down at Duo who stood slightly bent, chin thrust forward, poised for a fight.
Heero shook his head. "Not like this. If you wanna fight me off, you'll have to do better. But-"
Duo flew at him over the back of the sofa, taking a few of the cushions with him as he slammed into Heero and they both crashed to the floor. They were panting, Duo's arms braced on either side of Heero's head. Heero had averted his face, his eyes were closed, long lashes like drops of shadow in deep eyesockets. He looked tired, Duo realised with a sting in his chest. He leaned down and brushed Heero's cheek with his lips. "Hey," he whispered as Heero did not move. "Won't you look at me?"
Still nothing. Unsure, he hoped for Heero to do something, anything, but Heero just lay still beneath him, and so Duo let himself sink down until he could feel the warm, firm body from knee to shoulder, arms still framing Heero's face, and poked his nose against the hot pulse at his neck. "I've spruced up before coming home," he murmured nervously.
"And you want me to ruin you again? I'm not doing it."
Duo sighed. "Hell, yeah. Look, weighing up everything, you sure are the better soldier, but you have no clue 'bout what makes folk tick."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Duo reached down, found Heero's hand – fingers clenched, of course – and brought it up to kiss the knuckles that were white with tension. "That I love you. I'm glad you're home when I return. And I hoped you'd say something like that when you heard me coming, or perhaps 'bout me looking tidy for once."
He felt Heero wriggle a little, then hard fingers tangled in his hair, slid down his braid, and snapped off the elastic. Duo pressed his lips to Heero's ear. "Now look what you've done... mussed my hair. Wanna play then, soldierboy?" He pressed Heero's arm out and down on the floor, while his free hand roamed swiftly over Heero's flank down to the hem of his tank top. Duo tugged the flimsy thing up a bit, found the tab of the jeans Heero wore for a change, and dipped inside.
A low groan was his reward, but Heero bit his lip and shook his head. "Hate it when you come back like that," he hissed through his teeth.
"Like what?" Duo yanked at his jeans. Heero struggled, just a bit, to show he was not quite as helpless as it might appear, that there was strength and choice. A small reminder that was entirely lost on Duo who was determined to ignore it and proceeded to drag Heero's jeans down over his hips.
Heero raked through his unravelling braid. "Like fuck-me-fight-me, like eager on blood 'n gore, and pain is fun."
"Isn't it?"
"No, it fucking isn't."
Duo pressed down on Heero's groin, smiling at his scowl. "You aren't scared, are you?"
Heero glared. Duo's eyes widened. "Of me?"
"I don't like Shinigami in bed."
Duo scrambled back and dropped down, jaw slack, eyes round. Heero slowly smoothed out his top and pulled his trousers back up before he met Duo's gaze, his eyes dark but without harshness. He reached out to touch Duo's arm. "Welcome home. I love you. You look... beautiful." Forgive me for being unattentive, for words that do not come as easily to me as they do to you, for being clumsy and harsh.
Duo stared, understanding winding its way into his mind. Heero rose to his feet, in one smooth, easy motion, bent and gently grasped Duo's upper arms. "Bed?" he said quietly, a smile warming his eyes and his voice. "I want you to make love to me."
He could be so damn outspoken, Heero of No Words – he had surprised the life out of Duo a few times already, and for the looks of it, this was to continue. Duo followed him, winding his arms round Heero's waist, a cascade of burnished copper flooding over both of them as they tumbled onto the bed, Heero catching Duo on top of him.
He was smiling. Duo could tell when he looked deep down into those blue eyes, as dark as midnight, and from the way Heero writhed until Duo nestled comfortably between his drawn-up thighs, from his kiss that allowed Duo in, warm and eager, with a hungry longing that never failed to melt Duo completely.
"I'll never get it," Duo gasped in between when they had to come up for air, and
Heero took a strand of his own long hair to tickle his nose. "'Cos you-"
"Don't-"
"Are-"
"Say-"
"A baka!"
"It! Don't say this!"
"Whatever... Ouch! Damn you, Duo... what d'you think you-are-do- hnnn..."
Perhaps Heero did like a bit of rough play after all. Who knew what lay behind the mask of the Perfect Soldier? He let Duo have his way, wild and passionate, steaming off stress and anger and fear.
Duo let go of Shinigami before he realised that Heero was lifting it off him, like an armour too heavy for his shoulders, too much to carry, too much to bear, simply too much...
He panted and keened when he made Heero his own again, as always after missions. When he had to know all was still as it should be, things in place, life worth living, before he would allow himself to shed Shinigami, to let Heero lock it away safely. Only then would he be home and believe his dream.
Heero arched up and kissed him, then pulled him down and pressed him close, cradling him, face nestled into the sweep of his neck, hair everywhere, a silky blanket to shut out the world. "I'm so glad," Heero murmured, his voice strangely strangled. Glad that you are back, with me, alive, softening in my arms, melting into my body, my mind, my heart...
... let me be your shield, your love, your soul - I am so glad to be back, to be able to feel restful for a little while because I hold you in my arms.
Duo caressed his heaving flank and tried to look at him, but the clasp of Heero's arms tensed, and he knew he would not be able to break it. So he relaxed, breathing a long, lazy sigh against Heero's chest. Where he could feel his heart beat.
In synch with his own.
Forever.
Forever.
Forever.
And he knew he had truly come home.
xxx
If you liked this story, you might want to read on with 'Good Night'.
