Dark Poetry 4/?
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing
Notes: This story is taking so long. I wish sometimes I'd just write straight adventure or something and the story wasn't somehow a mural of my own inner life. If I could manage that, I'd have a much nicer house. Also, I have a new website for my original work: .com
It had been months since he spoke with Shinigami and he didn't think he was making any progress in solving Duo's mystery, but he wasn't going to leave. So he was comfortably in his bed, reading a book on positive psychology. If he kept studying, he'd find something that would help.
Then he fell asleep, as one is wont to do in one's bed.
The house was two stories, three if you counted the pointy attic. Heero thought wasting a floor like that showed bad judgement, but it was an old Earth style house, Victorian. Relena had been very partial to such houses. And fuck, he was tired of all this bullshit.
It was easy to be pissy at Relena. For one, she wasn't here and for two she wouldn't have noticed his irritation if she had been there. But the irritation went way beyond then her and it settled on Duo like a funnel as reason drained away.
There was nothing physically wrong with Duo Maxwell. Enough bad shit had happened to fill several books, but fuck it all, bad shit happened to everyone. For months! Heero had walked around in Duo's house, texting to talk at him, watching vacant purple eyes stare at the walls, watching everyone in Duo's life trip around him like he was some fragile baby lily or rare panda thing, something fragile and precious.
"Fragile, my ass," Heero screamed at the Victorian ghost house. It stood at the top of a hill, the ocean rushing against the bottom of the hill like some planetary time system. The house itself was faded blues and blacks, paint peeling, a few shingles missing and it looked like one huge untreated bruise. "Remember in the war, when we ate out of that dumpster?! That was your fucking idea," Heero shouted. "Your resilience and strength made me think anything was possible!"
Heero glared at Duo standing on the second floor behind a dirty window, wearing a dark suit, his hair darker, face pale, looking like a fucking melancholy vampire. With perfect, darkly poetic elegance, Duo tilted his head, pale lips parting, tears slipping down that face like glittering trails of regret.
Heero wrinkled his nose, feeling a fire, blue fire roar to life behind his eyes. He'd been doing this same shit, in his own way, feeling sorry for himself because his leg hurt and his eyes leaked and he couldn't have what he thought he'd wanted.
Duo's voice, not Shinigami, but Duo, whispered in Heero's mind, "I want you to leave. You're not welcome in my house anymore."
"Oh yeah," Heero asked, lips twisting. "This as far as Q and Wu got with your whiny ass? And they just felt this wave of emotion coming off you and backed away, being so delicate with you? Poor, sweet," Heero leaned down carefully, aware that the dream physics felt real enough to make his leg a worthless stack of proteins, "wounded, little Duo gone all scary as shit? Did they say real nice things as they ran away from you?"
"Everyone near me dies!" Duo howled, his voice an embedded plea in breeze like some splendid theatrical experience.
He bounced the rock in his palm and then on what felt like a golden bright whim, he flung that rock with all his strength and it went through a lower window and crashed into something quite breakable on the inside.
The practiced theatrics of the world froze. Heero grabbed a second rock and aimed higher. The anger that fueled the throw came from anger at himself and at Duo and the world that had treated them both like such shit and war, plague, starvation, all the fucking stupid shit that humans do. That rock went through a pane right next to where Duo was standing.
The anger was contagious and Duo's face flushed with color, his hair lightening to chocolate brown, and it was like he was in color while the rest of the world was in black and white. Both hands smacked against the glass and angry violet eyes glared down at Heero.
Grinning, Heero felt a rush of joy and light, like Duo's angry face was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen! Still grinning, he grabbed another rock and put it through the window next to Duo. Duo's mouth went snarly and he pointed to the window.
Heero shrugged, pointed at the remaining rocks on the ground and smiled his intentions.
Duo opened the window and stuck his head out, looking the most lke Duo athat Heero had seen him since he got here. "Ima a kill yer stupid ass!"
"Well, come on then," Heero shouted back, "I've died a couple times. Maybe third time's the charm!"
"Are you fucking stupid? I'm dangerous!"
"What did you do that makes you think making yourself into a zombie was a good idea?" Heero bounced the next rock in his palm and as Duo's control of the environment waned a bit, he found the hooks to shift it and the rock became a yellow paint bomb, which hit the exterior and splattered like a flower.
"What the fuck is that," Duo growled, leaning out of the window to look at the paint splat. "Yellow? You splashed yellow paint on mah house! Mother fucker!"
Heero gained more control over the environment as Duo gave into his indignation. Rocks gave way to a paint gun, and the next blast of yellow hit Duo in the face. Heero planned it to smell like sunshine on cloth and maple syrup and as it spread across Duo's face, the look of sheer disbelief and moral outrage, grew like a building orgasm and then he fell backwards in a peal of laughter.
There were so many things Heero hadn't even begun to ask the question about, but yellow felt like hope and now like Duo's laughter and he ran into the house, firing again-and-again, blasting yellow over any and all surfaces. The more yellow, the better he felt!
On his way up the stairs, he was met by a sting to his face, then blue drips down his chest to his hands.
"Mah favorite color's blue!" Duo said, trying not to grin.
"Uh," Heero grunted and put a yellow slug right over Duo's heart. "Yellow makes me happy."
Heero had chased him down the hall, not even trying to dodge the blue capsules. At the end, he grabbed the doorknob before Duo could and held the door closed, body pressed to Duo's, paint gun grinding against the wood beside Duo's head as they struggled to get some balance between them. "You..." Heero said, rubbing his face against Duo's hair, his breath against Duo's ear, "You fill me with instincts, with life, with a want to live, and I think this is love, this joy to be next to you is what a mortal can understand as love."
"I'm tired of hurting, Heero," Duo said, still under Heero's pressure, "Everything is so empty."
"Do you feel empty right now," Heero asked, pulling back, searching Duo's eyes. "Are you in pain right now?"
"No," Duo said softly, looking pleadingly into Heero's eyes for understanding.
"Then don't fucking assume the future. We haven't built it yet. Can I kiss you?"
"Yeah," Duo said, Heero's words slipping into the fences of his mind and opening gates he hadn't thought about. "I want to kiss you."
Their kiss spread warmth and yellow through the house. Duo's hands came up to touch Heero's face and the awkward gave way to just pure need, to lust in the most human and primal colors. Then they were both in Heero's bed in the warm glow of post sex, even though they hadn't yet.
Heero wrapped his arms around Duo and pulled him so his head was on his chest. "Talk to me."
"I don't know what to say," Duo said.
"Tell me you love me."
"I love you," Duo said, with all his being and any future that he might have.