16-Apr-2000
Hi hi! Well here's part 2 of Rising, my strange little AU... G-boys who
aren't G-boys but are somehow connected to the G-boys. And if you think,
well, TB must be the only one who understands how that's gonna happen, then,
guess again... cause I don't! BWAH HAH HAH HAH!
Hee heee....
Warnings: yaoi, lemon (in future parts), language, death (sort of), AU
Feedback: always appreciated. Thanks! ~TB
Duo lifted his braid to scratch the back of his neck. "Q," he called. "You out yet?"
"No. Wait longer, will you?"
"You and Trowa have been in there forever! Me and Heero want a chance."
"Just hold on, okay?"
Duo blew a raspberry, and turned to his best friend to complain, only to discover that Heero had wandered off--and was talking to a pretty girl. He sighed.
Wufei, slouching against a wall near the photo booth that had been the object of the arguement, noticed that. He glanced around, noted how thin the crowd was by this time of night, and made his move. "Duo," he called.
Curious, the American joined him.
"I need a smoke," Wufei said. "Come with me?"
"Sure." Duo glanced back once more at Heero, then shrugged, and followed the Chinese boy. "You *are* having fun, aren't you?"
"Yeah." They ducked behind the bathrooms, and Wufei pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. "You want one?"
"Sure." Duo took the offering, and squinted at him. "So you don't mind hanging out with us?"
"No." They lit up, and Wufei blew a perfect smoke-ring. "Why?"
"You just look like the kind of guy who has better things to do. I guess."
Wufei looked at him. "I heard your mom was killed."
The other boy's face closed like a trap door. "I don't like to talk about it."
"Shit like that is hard. I know."
The thin-lipped mouth tightened. "How could you possibly?" he asked, not quite snapping. "You couldn't."
"My brother, he was real into drugs and shit. He thought it was funny to play with guns. He shot his girl friend in the face when he was high, then went for a drive and hit a semi going ninety." Wufei puffed unemotionally on his cigarrette, and shrugged. "I know."
Duo's anger dissolved into puzzlement. "I'm sorry," he said automatically.
"Why?" The Asian grinned lopsidedly. "He was one sorry son of a bitch. He used to beat the fuck out of me. I was glad to see him go." He saw that strike some kind of nerve, and felt the dim stirrings of a kindred spirit. "So," he said casually, eyes locked with Duo's violet ones, "which one hit you? Your ma, or your old man?"
Duo answered very slowly, as if amazed that he was answering at all. Probably he had never told anyone about it. Probably he had never met anyone before who understood so perfectly. "My pop."
"In jail?"
"Yeah."
Wufei used a water fountain for an ash-tray. "Yeah," he agreed. "I know."
Quatre's voice drifted to them. "Duo? Wufei? Where'd you guys go?"
"We should go back." Duo took one last, quick draw on his cigarrette, then dropped it and snubbed it out with his heel. And then he waited, as naturally as if he'd been doing it for years, for Wufei to join him.
And as Wufei walked past him, he was sure that the American's eyes lingered on him, wondering, thinking. It brought a secret smile to his lips.
Mission: Duo Maxwell. Progress--
Looking very good.
End Part 2
(:./erin/rising2)
