28 Sept 00
Pairing: 1+2, 1+R (with implied multiplication symbols as
well, but that happens mostly offscreen)
Category: Songfic
Disclaimer: Don't own the boy, the girl, or the song (it's
"Off the Hook," by Barenaked Ladies, and can be found on
their album _Maroon_).
Warnings: shounen-ai, hetero-ai, angst; Heero making bad
decisions.
Notes: This bit of cliché-drenched oddness was brought to you by
too much time alone in the car--so this isn't really a fic (perhaps the
outline for one?), but more like a sketch (>_<) of the thoughts this
song chases around in my head.
I waited a long time to archive this, hanging around to see if it wanted to grow up into a longer fic--but you know, I think I like it as it stands. ^__^
All around the room your things are placed
And next to you he fills the space
[Relena comes into her front hall, carrying a vase of flowers; she sets it on a marble-topped table, and stands back to admire her work. When she looks up just a little, she can see into the living room where Heero is sitting on the couch, reading a book. It looks like home, that room. She has waited so long for a home--for this home, with him. If she could just figure out why the picture feels somehow wrong--]
And so it seems your saving grace
Is only saving face
[They are very dressed up, walking the red carpet to some sort of gala. People are cheering.
Relena smiles for a press photographer--the smile fades when she sees Heero gazing off into the distance, as if he has forgotten where they are. She tugs at his hand, and he looks down blankly before remembering he's supposed to smile. So he does. It's not very convincing.]
The pictures of the two of you on holiday, on honeymoon
You thought that he was wanting you
But he was only wanting you to
Let him off the hook
[Framed photographs, like the one they were just posing for, stand on the polished top of a piano. In every one, he has almost the same expression--and it doesn't look especially happy. Relena wonders why she never noticed it before. Other moments of distance, absence, indifference start coming back to her--she had chalked it all up to depression, or clumsiness, but now she isn't so sure.]
He was your imaginary friend
You were partners till the end
[Duo's apartment has pictures, too; some of all five pilots, some of just himself and Heero. Some in frames, and some stuck to the refrigerator with magnets. All of them show Heero almost smiling, but definitely happy--all of them, except the recent ones.]
But something bends, and then it breaks,
Your worst mistake
Accepting enemies on bended knees;
A litany of tragedies
[One of the framed photos smashes against the wall; Heero stands with folded arms, watching it fall. His face is impossible to read. But Duo doesn't seem to be trying to decipher it, since he turned away almost as soon as he threw the frame. Heero starts to leave, then wheels back as if his name has been called. Perhaps it has--Duo is facing him again, his eyes pleading even while the rest of his face wants to deny it.]
You're vexed, it seems you're hexed
And after sex, he expects you'll let him
Off the hook
[It is several hours later, or perhaps another day altogether--this has all happened before, and will happen again. Lying carefully separate, gasping for breath, the embrace over. For now. The look on Heero's face isn't affection, or even satiation, but accomplishment. Relief. Duo turns onto his other side, facing away. He is not crying. Not even close.]
Till something that you heard while you were sleeping
Left you shaken while he stirred
[Relena is lying in bed, in a darkened bedroom. There is a square of yellow lamplight on the floor, coming from the next room. A shadow crosses the patch of light: Heero, pacing with a phone in his hand. He is trying to talk quietly; he thinks she's asleep. It's not quiet enough. And she's awake.]
When you awaken you will make him eat his words
Right off the hook
(hook and line, every time)
[He comes back to bed, only a bit stealthily, and slides under the covers next to her. He checks to make sure her eyes are closed, then settles down to sleep, relieved. Secure. She waits until he's motionless, and then opens her eyes again; her face is set in the same fixed, blank expression that marks every photograph she has of him.]
The credit card receipts, the dirty sheets
The souvenirs of men who cheat
It all makes sense--with each offense
You wanted to believe him
[Relena hesitates outside Heero's study, watching him work at a computer. She considers confrontation, then seems to decide against it. But she can't leave the doorway, and her face is a study in anticipated pain. He doesn't look up.]
He could get away with murder one
And you would clean the smoking gun
With every crime, you bought each line
[Duo sits on the edge of his bed, on the phone. His expression is earnest; he's explaining to Relena that he hasn't seen Heero lately, certainly not today. Has no idea where he might be. Duo replaces the receiver, briefly closing his eyes as Heero reaches to draw him back down into an embrace.]
But not this time, you'll make him eat his words
'Cause something that you heard while you were sleeping
Left you shaken while he stirred
[Heero rolls over in his sleep, curling against Duo's back. He murmurs something, still asleep: a name. Duo's closed eyes tighten at the sound, then open slowly; this used to happen only every once in a while. He lies awake for a long time, staring into the dark.]
When you awaken you will make him eat his
Make him eat his words
While he's alone, 'cause you won't be around
[Duo is staring at a telephone, evidently coming to a decision. He finally dials, and speaks briefly. Gathering up a jacket, he leaves without looking back.]
And from now on the phone stays off the hook
[Heero opens the door of a coffee shop and enters, looking around. Then he stops. Duo and Relena are sitting at a table toward the back; they have apparently been there for some time, judging from the empty cups and crumpled napkins. Relena has been crying.
They look up, watching him with identical faces: challenging, exhausted. Heero looks as if he would like very much to turn and leave, but instead he slowly takes off his coat and walks forward.]
(hook and line, every time)
-end-
(:./lilias/offhook)
