21-Dec-2004
Title: Zibeline
Author: Mookie
Pairing: Heero/Duo
Rating: R for lime
Word count: 3,117
Warnings: shonen ai, lime, lemon if bad puns count
Notes: Written for Natea for the GW Yaoi/Yuri Wedding Ficathon
Blue eyes tracked silent movements across the grass, watching for any signs of weakness that could be used to advantage. The figure being observed had a slight limp, visible only because his gait was slightly off - something noticeable only because the quarry had been under study for some time now.
Soon, he thought, moving away from the glass. Soon.
He slipped under the covers. A smile played about his lips as he succumbed to the lure of sleep.
Heero's brows were drawn together in a recognizable scowl, and Duo put a hand on his shoulder, flashing him a split second grin before turning to their schoolmates, waving at them in acknowledgement of their cheers of admiration.
He felt Heero's shoulder remove itself from beneath his fingers, and he stared after him, perplexed.
"So this is where you went," he told Heero after he'd tracked him down.
While they exchanged a few words and Duo extended his challenge to Heero, he remembered the last time he'd seen the other pilot before they'd ended up at the school together. The day he'd learned Heero's name.
In the middle of his retrospection, that girl showed up, the one that had thrown herself in front of Heero to save him from a third bullet.
"Relena."
That was the one.
Duo wasn't sure what it was about Heero that seemed to draw people. First there had been this girl and then the one from the Alliance medical building who'd shown up at New Edwards. She'd called out to Heero, and sure enough, hadn't the guy turned around and done exactly what she'd asked.
And that blond kid had known, too, that Heero would accomplish his mission. A mission that had been issued by a woman who had been part of the group keeping Heero restrained on that table. What the hell was Heero involved in?
I'm proud of that kid, the woman had said.
Duo looked at the girl, Relena, and back at Heero, then over the water toward the base.
Let's see what you've got, Heero.
"Have you gone crazy?"
"Hurry. Up."
"Well, you asked for it... "
Duo could barely croak out the question that followed as Heero's fist buried into his gut.
"For your own good. That's one for one. He's all yours now."
It took Duo a moment, before he teetered on the edge of consciousness, to realize that last part was directed at Trowa.
He didn't like it. Didn't like it one bit.
As Duo's thumb hit the detonation switch, sending Deathscythe Hell off to its final resting places, he couldn't help but remember with vivid clarity the image of Wing Zero falling to pieces before his very eyes.
He watched the trio of Gundams explode in a flash of light and felt the wave of intense heat, even from this distance. It was so unlike the slow crumbling of Heero's mobile suit outside the underground fortress.
It felt wrong, watching it collapse like that. Wing Zero should have been sent to Gundam Heaven, or more accurately, Gundam Hell, in a more fitting manner.
Maybe, he thought, turning away from the wreckage, it bothered him that the way Wing Zero had fallen apart was all too fitting.
None of them had seen Heero since that day.
From what he'd heard later, Wufei had taken his Gundam away and destroyed it.
And then there were none.
It was the sound of laughter that drew Duo's attention. He turned toward the sound, only half expecting to see a familiar face, and feeling crushed with disappointment nonetheless when he confirmed he'd been mistaken.
He'd never have connected Heero Yuy with laughter, except for that one night. It was funny to think of it now. It wasn't that he'd forgotten. He didn't think he'd ever forget. If he forgot his own name, he'd still remember the kiss.
It had been before they'd left that boarding school where Relena Darlian had found them. It had been the night Duo had stood in Heero's doorway and told him that he was leaving.
Duo had come out and asked Heero what the deal was with all his fawning admirers. Heero hadn't so much as blinked at the question, not even when Duo had made a few half-hearted attempts to tease Heero about being a modern day Lothario.
Heero had actually gotten up from the computer for that one. When he reached his arm past Duo's face, closing the door and pushing it to engage the latch, Duo thought he was going to impart some sort of new information regarding their mutual objective.
That's what he'd thought.
Heero's hand had remained firmly pressed against the door, his arm close enough that if Duo moved his head a fraction to the left, his ear would brush against the inside of Heero's elbow.
He could still remember the feel of Heero's fingers, firm against his jaw, as Heero held his face still. To this day he could recall the way Heero had smelled. The generic scent of the school's laundry soap had been faintly mixed with Heero's sweat, and Duo had known what was going to happen even before Heero leaned in closer.
All the moments that stood out in his mind, frozen forever in snapshot stills, had been of things he'd lost in life. The slow motion approach of Heero's lips against his could not possibly be an accurate memory, for he remembered the harshness of the kiss. There had been nothing languid about it at all. He'd opened his mouth, inviting Heero's tongue in. He'd leaned his head back against the door and pressed the pads of his fingers against the smooth wood, wanting to understand the motivation behind this yet not caring enough to stop and ask.
Heero's pinky had slipped down almost to the pulse in Duo's neck, and it was the last point of contact to break after the kiss ended. Heero had laughed then, a short bark, then turned his back and told Duo to look up the definition of a lothario some day.
Duo looked over at the table of college students with their books open on the table as they brought carrot sticks covered with thick white cheese to their mouths. He waited for one of them to drop the vegetable, obscuring the lines of text, but it didn't happen.
He'd never looked up the definition of lothario. He'd already known what it meant, after all. Heero had proven him right that day, hadn't he?
On the way home, Duo stopped by the library. Ten minutes later, he walked out the door, shaking his head.
He called Relena when he got home. She'd looked puzzled at his question, as if she expected to be the last person to know of Heero's whereabouts. She suggested he call Quatre.
That phone call had been even less promising. Quatre hadn't been home, and Duo had hung up before he'd gotten half his message out. He hated speaking to machines. They didn't interact, and hearing familiar but unresponsive voices grated. The only time he wanted to hear Quatre's voice was coming from Quatre himself.
Just for the hell of it, he called Trowa. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly when Catherine answered the vid phone, and he tried to flirt with her, but his heart wasn't in it.
Duo wasn't exactly a lothario, either.
The phone on his desk rang, and he moved the microphone to his headset in front of his mouth and hit the receive button before reciting the greeting for the company. Before he'd rattled off the entire spiel, the voice on the other side gave him a curt message, and Duo was left with his mouth hanging open.
Lunchtime couldn't come soon enough for Duo, and he ripped the hands-free telephone from his head and left his jacket on the back of his chair as he headed down the street to the corner deli. He found Heero waiting exactly where he said he'd be and slid into the booth across from him.
"I hear you were looking for me."
Heero never had pulled any punches and he sure as hell didn't beat around the bush.
"I was."
"Why."
Duo picked up one of the menus tucked between the napkin dispenser and the salt and pepper shakers. He stared unseeingly at the list of appetizers and pointed to one at random when the waitress came to take their order.
He shoved the menu haphazardly back where he'd gotten it and looked into Heero's eyes.
"Maybe I missed you," he said.
Heero nodded. "That's good." He picked up a fork and stabbed a cherry tomato in the salad the waitress had just set down. She placed Duo's order in front of him. Apparently he'd chosen from the dessert section instead.
He was still staring at his lemon meringue pie when he heard Heero continue.
"I missed you, too."
Duo set his elbow on the table and scratched at his head with the handle of his fork. He studied Heero, looking for anything unusual. It was the same face he remembered. A little bit older, the hair a little bit longer, but still the same Heero Yuy that first Relena, then Sally Po, and then Quatre had put their faith in so steadfastly.
He'd not realized that he'd gotten meringue - the real McCoy, the waitress told them when she'd brought them the bill later on, not that "fake Styrofoam textured stuff", on his sleeve. He didn't until Heero swiped the side of his fork along the fabric of Duo's jacket, scraping the majority of it off and handing a paper napkin to Duo to clean up the rest.
With plans in place to get together as soon as Duo got out of work, it wasn't until he was sitting back behind the desk, keying in another message, when the image of Heero licking real meringue off his fork came to mind unbidden.
The end of his shift couldn't come fast enough.
"Stop fighting me."
"Then stop pulling so hard."
"I can't believe you are being such a baby over this."
"I think you're enjoying this a little too much."
Duo snorted in response and turned off the water, then fought with the spray handle a bit, trying to unkink the hose so he could set it back in place. He nudged the faucet out of the way with his elbow and wrapped a towel around Heero's hair. He tugged at it gently.
"I can't see," Heero complained, standing up straight.
"Trust me," Duo said. He could almost feel Heero glowering at him from beneath the thick terrycloth. "That was an accident," he reminded Heero hastily as he guided him into one of the kitchen chairs.
Heero had broken his wrist while helping Duo clean out the rain gutters on the apartment building where he lived. As an on-premises part-time superintendent, he'd been able to lease a two-bedroom apartment for the cost of a single bedroom unit. He'd never really been sure why he'd wanted the second bedroom, but he liked the idea that he could have guests over without sacrificing the springs on his couch.
It hadn't been Duo's fault that the damn dog next door had set to chasing the neighborhood tomcat. No one, not even ZERO, could have foreseen the canine ramming into the ladder Heero was standing on.
Duo had been tempted to hand Heero a large wrench and a roll of duct tape, especially when Heero was attempting to force the bones back into place with his uninjured hand. Duo had swallowed his own squeamishness and took over, following Heero's monotone instructions. By the time he'd snapped it in place, the sound making him nearly lose his lunch, the apartment manager had pulled up and tooted the horn for them to hop in for a ride to the hospital.
That night had been the first time the guestroom had been occupied.
There had been a few awkward moments, like the time Heero had headed for the bathroom after dinner and stood in the doorway staring at something for a full minute. Duo had glanced at the cast on Heero's hand and realized his friend's dilemma. He'd tried not to snicker as Heero glared at the cast that covered a good portion of his dominant hand. Seemed Heero was going to need to exercise a bit of ambidexterity.
He was chuckling again at the memory as he ruffled Heero's hair with the towel, then set it down to pick up a comb from the table. He raked it through the thick strands, watching them bounce back in defiance with each stroke.
He had to admit he enjoyed this. The smell of his shampoo in Heero's hair, the feel of soft silky strands sliding across his fingers. This was something he'd never shared with another person.
He leaned forward, placing his chin on Heero's hair, and dangled the comb in front of his face.
"All set. You're beautiful now."
Heero reached for the comb with one hand, then the other. He'd been wearing the cast for a week now and yet he still seemed to have a hard time remembering not to try grasping things with his right hand. Not enough of his fingertips were exposed to make such a thing possible.
"Thanks." The fingers of Heero's left hand grabbed the handle of the comb and he held it in his lap.
Duo closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He liked the way Heero's hair felt when it was wet. The ends were sharp and tickled at his nose and lips.
"Heero," he said. "Remember that day?"
He could have been referring to any day - any day at all, but he only meant one.
"Yeah," Heero said. "Did you do what I suggested?"
Duo rubbed his chin against Heero's scalp and then drew back. "I did, but not all that long ago. Why do you think I missed you?"
Heero turned in his chair and stared at Duo, trying to figure out what he meant by that, Duo supposed. He ran his fingers through the hair at the side of Heero's face. "You know," he said with a sigh. "Everyone else seemed to believe in you. Why couldn't I?"
Heero swallowed. "But you did."
Duo smiled, a sad little quirk of the lips. "But not right away."
Heero's hand came up to cover Duo's. "Sometimes it's not the destination, but the journey. It's getting there that counts, not attaining the best track time." He turned his face enough to nuzzle the palm of Duo's hand, then stood up.
"Thanks," was all he said before picking up his jacket and swinging it over his left shoulder. "See you tonight."
Duo heard the sounds of partygoers outside the hotel room, and he grinned up at the ceiling as he heard Heero bid them goodnight. The buzz of the lock sounded, and the click of a handle, and a triangle of light spilled in from the hallway before Heero shut the door and the room was once more in semi-darkness.
"How's the headache?"
Heero's face loomed over his and he shook a bottle of something near Duo's ear. Duo sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp.
"Anyone suspect?"
Heero displayed the unopened bottle of Frangelico. "From Quatre."
Duo took the bottle from Heero and studied the label. " ...with infusions of berries and flowers to enrich the flavor," he read aloud. He looked at the bottle curiously, then showed it to Heero.
"Doesn't this look like it should contain maple syrup instead of hazelnut liqueur?"
Heero started laughing, and he removed the bottle from Duo's grasp, setting it on the nightstand. He stood up, removed his jacket, and threw it on the second bed, then sat on the edge of the mattress and began unbuttoning his cuffs.
Duo's hands tugged at the hem tucked into Heero's waistband and he wrapped his arms around Heero before resting his chin on his shoulder. Heero dropped his right hand to cover Duo's where it was splayed against his stomach.
"I meant every word of it, Duo."
Duo's breath caught for a moment and he nodded, even though Heero couldn't see him. He reluctantly loosened his grip around Heero's waist to give him the chance to shrug his shirt off. Duo pulled it from between their bodies and tossed it to the foot of the bed then slid the palm of his left hand over Heero's taut abdomen. The knuckles of his other hand caressed Heero's neck and he leaned forward to catch Heero's earlobe between his teeth.
There were so many things he wanted to tell Heero, to whisper into his ear. The words he'd uttered in front of their friends did not fully express what he wanted to share with Heero. He flicked his tongue behind Heero's ear, then worked his lips towards Heero's for a deep kiss. He could still taste the hint of lemon from their dessert. He felt Heero's mouth curve into a smile as he drew back.
"You were limping," Duo murmured.
"I was?"
"Mmm hmm." A kiss was pressed at the nape of Heero's neck. "I don't think anyone noticed. You sure didn't show any signs of weakness on the court."
"The court... " Heero tilted his head to the side to give Duo's lips and tongue better access to his neck. "Basketball?"
Duo's fingers slid down Heero's stomach to the button on his trousers. "I wanted to get to know you. Everyone else already seemed to have a handle on the kind of person you were except me."
"You have a pretty good handle on me right now," Heero rasped as Duo's hand worked itself down the front of Heero's pants. He could feel the contrast between the warm skin of Duo's fingers and the smooth band of cool metal at the base of one of them.
Duo supposed that Heero didn't need to hear the words, not any more than the ones they'd promised to uphold earlier that day. He felt the change beneath his hand, the transition from baby soft to smooth and hard. His fingers danced along Heero's length, his thumb swiping at the tip. He had a feeling that he was going to embarrass them both with his stamina, but they had the room for the entire night. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
Duo was willing to spend all night on this track in an effort to best his previous time.
Heero gasped slightly as Duo nuzzled his neck again.
All night? Hell. They had the rest of their lives.
The End
(:./mookie/zibeline)
