Disclaimer: I don't own GW or 'Falling' so complain to someone else.
Warning: Shounen-ai. Relena bashing. Bad dancing?
…
I felt a smile start on my own face. It felt strange.
"I'll go."
Falling
Part Three – The Preparation
I couldn't have possibly expected what happened next.
Duo, self-titled Shinigami, feared pilot of the Gundam Deathscythe, launched himself off his bed and into my embrace – well, actually, he threw his arms around me, nearly knocked me over backwards in my chair, as a matter of fact – half strangling me in the process.
I was so startled that Duo was hugging me that, for a long moment, I couldn't react at all.
Then, right as my brain decided to start functioning enough to convince me that the only proper response was, indeed, to wrap my own arms around him in return, he pulled back as abruptly as he'd arrived.
"I-I just… I d-didn't m-mean… it-it's n-not… i-it w-wa-wasn't…" Duo was stuttering so badly I could barely understand a word. He was backing away, face deep scarlet and eyes wide, as he shook his head helplessly.
"Duo?" I was more than slightly alarmed. What the hell…?
The backs of his knees hit the side of his bed, and he sat down, hard.
"Duo," I repeated, more firmly this time.
He just stared at me, violet eyes still wide, looking a little frightened.
That wasn't right. Duo Maxwell didn't get frightened.
I wanted to grab his shoulders and snap him out of… whatever it was he was in. of course, I didn't do it – I had a hunch it would be a bad idea. In fact, I tried not to move at all: I didn't want to spook him. But this whole business was making me nervous, and that wasn't supposed to happen either.
"Breathe, Maxwell," I ordered. I must have slipped into what Duo'd once referred to as my 'soldier voice' (the name had stuck and the other pilots refused to give it up), because he obeyed at once, taking several deep breaths and sitting up ramrod straight, as though he were on duty.
A second later, he blinked, and suddenly relaxed, looking sheepish. "Sorry," he muttered.
I was tempted to ask what the hell his deal was, but decided that my reputation was already in enough danger (and soon to be in plenty more if all this nonsense about clubs and such didn't stop at once, that irritating voice pointed out), and saying something so… well, so common, would only compound the problem even farther.
"Departure time?" I asked instead, a little more stiffly than I'd intended as I once more silently shouted at the annoying voice in my head to shut up.
"Two hours. Ten o'clock."
I nodded, once, and turned back to my computer. I had a lot of work to do before I left.
I heard Duo rummaging around for a few minutes, then the door to the bathroom opened and closed. A moment later, I heard the hiss of water as the shower started.
My fingers froze over the keys, and I found I was unable to focus again until the sound of the shower ceased. My mind had immediately taken a vacation, and I couldn't seem to stop images of Duo under the water from filling the empty space in my head.
God, he's gorgeous, I thought.
What the hell is wrong with you? Do your damn work! You have a mission to accomplish, Yuy. You should know better than to let yourself be distracted by anything! The mission is all that matters. Besides, these thoughts are completely beneath you.
But they're so fun.
I bit my bottom lip.
This. Was. Not. Good.
The shower turned off, and I refused to allow myself to become diverted by any other… interesting… pictures. I needed to focus on my mission.
By the time Duo returned, I was typing steadily once more.
I didn't turn, but I could vaguely see his reflection in the computer screen. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips, and seemed absorbed in drying his long hair, wringing it out with a towel. He wasn't wearing a shirt.
I found myself trying to peak at him out of the corners of my eyes.
Stop it, I told myself sternly. You have work to do. You shouldn't have agreed to go in the first place, and you know it.
It'll keep me clear of Relena, I argued back. God only knows what I'll do to her if I have to spend more time dancing with her, either in extra class sessions or – horrors – alone. It will protect her, and thus it will protect our broader mission here on Earth.
If it makes you happy to think so.
It will! She's not going to be there, so I can't do anything to her!
So you would have refused if she were going with you?
…
Exactly.
Shut up.
I tried yet again to force myself to concentrate.
It didn't go very well.
At half past nine I gave up.
I retrieved a towel from my closet and left Duo to his slowly forming braid.
Locking the door behind me, I set my towel down within easy reach of the shower, and quirked an eyebrow at the various brushes and hair-ties littered around the sink. I figured the mess should bother me, seeing as how it made it all the more apparent that, once again, the other pilot had not picked up after himself, as I'd requested he do on more than one occasion. But, strangely, I felt only a sense of comfort from the regularity of it.
Trying to shake off the unusual sentiment, I ran the shower and stepped under the spray before it had even had a chance to warm up. I had to stop whatever this was. I couldn't keep thinking about him like this. It was distracting me from the mission.
Out of long habit, I used my partner's shampoo.
When I returned to the main room, towel wrapped firmly around my waist, I discovered a surprise. Duo had covered my bed as well as his own with clothes.
I frowned.
"Heya, 'Ro," he grinned, spotting me. His eyes flicked over me, and I fought the sudden urge to blush.
You're imagining things, I informed myself, feeling intensely uncomfortable because I knew I wasn't imagining his scrutiny. Think of something else for a change.
"What is this, Maxwell?" I demanded, jerking my head towards the clothes. I wasn't sure I really wanted to know, but anything to make him stop staring like that… and to keep me from staring in return.
His grin faltered for a moment at my tone. "Clubbing options," he replied after a moment.
"What?"
"Well, you can't wear that," he joked, gesturing at my towel.
I ignored his frivolity. "What's wrong with my clothes?"
"Nothing."
"Then why – "
"They're just not appropriate for a club."
"Why not?"
Duo blinked at my. "Um, don't take this the wrong way, but have you seen your clothes?"
I didn't dignify that with an answer.
"Just trust me on this, Yuy."
I scowled, but didn't argue further.
"Come here," he commanded, beckoning me over to my bed.
I approached cautiously, and glanced down, filled with apprehension.
To my intense relief, at least some of the garments looked normal. I deemed it best not to inquire into the electric-green pleather pants or the fuzzy headband complete with faux fur cat ears.
"Well?" Deathscythe's pilot prompted after a moment of silence. "Anything appeal?"
"Those will do." I pointed to a pair of simple black pants and a white button-down shirt.
"That's practically a uniform, Yuy," the braided boy complained.
I picked up the pants, but he grabbed the shirt before I could.
"Nya-uh," he shook his head. "Not with those pants."
"Pardon?"
"You're not wearing a suit to a club. Here, try this." He handed me a dark blue shirt with no sleeves.
He flashed me a quick grin, then grabbed a handful of pieces from his own bed before disappearing into the bathroom.
I hesitated only a moment before dressing.
The pants, though surprisingly comfortable, were quite fitted, which made me wonder – a little inappropriately – just how tight they were on Duo, who was much more nicely shaped than I was. The shirt was remarkably soft, and I liked it at once. Everything smelled cleanly of fresh laundry and, much more faintly, of something it took me a moment to recognize as Duo himself. I'd never borrowed clothes from anyone before, and wondered if my own things had my scent ingrained in them.
I moved almost instinctively in front of the mirror and examined my reflection.
My eyes widened in surprise. I actually looked good. The clothes fit well, and the blue of the shirt matched my eyes almost exactly. I wondered if Duo had given it to me for that reason. A bit of a smile curled my lips upwards, and I realized I liked how it looked – I would have to do it more.
The smiled turned to a scowl as I saw my hair. It was a mess. I tried to straighten it with my fingers to no avail.
The very fact that I was standing in front of the mirror like this bothered me. I made it a point to never give a damn about my appearance – or what others thought of it – since that was a distraction a soldier didn't need, and couldn't afford. And I was smiling. My entire world was standing on its head.
The bathroom door opened again, and I jumped and spun away from the mirror, my hand falling guiltily from my still-mussed locks.
What the hell is wrong with me? – Oh wow.
Duo stood in the doorway, and he looked… amazing.
The breath caught in my throat as I looked at him. Dark blue jeans – not too tight, just tight enough – and a short-sleeved button-down shirt – with only the three middle buttons done up – in a dark wine red. The gold of his cross glinted against his skin.
"You clean up good," he remarked in a tone I deemed a little too casual.
I lifted my eyes to his, and noticed the kohl lining that brought out their color.
"Well?" He held his arms out and twirled around, braid swinging after him. "You like?"
I nodded mutely.
His face fell, as though he'd been hoping for something more.
There was a knock on the door then, just seconds before a clock started chiming somewhere across campus.
By the time Duo opened the door to admit several boys I recognized vaguely from class, his cheerful grin was back in place. It didn't reach his eyes.
TBC
A/N: The last chapter will not be posted here, but will be on my website, whenever I get that up. Please REVIEW!