I can feel him watching me.
Despite the fact that my back is to him, I know when his eyes touch me. It has nothing to do with any special observational talents of mine, either. Whenever I am around him, it's always this way. He makes me hyper-aware of his movements, so that I find I seek him out when we are close. I don't believe I have ever appreciated that, nor am I quite ready to just yet. It is because I can feel it pressing at me, that old fear. The more you care, the more it hurts when you lose. I have never considered myself a coward; I went into battle with my face to the enemy and never turned away. But this is different. To Duo, I would offer my heart, I would give him the chance to make me feel unimaginable pain. And that is never an easy choice to make.
Humans are hypocritical that way. We will play God with ours lives, and yet, when it comes to our hearts, we are most frugal. Death is permanent, while mental pain heals, we are all aware of this. I can tell you now, however, that there is nothing worse than stripping away the very last of your defenses, and offering yourself up to someone, only to have them reject you. You feel naked, without a cover of any kind, as if thousands of eyes are looking upon you, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it. Worse yet, is the humiliation, the unavoidable feeling of worthlessness, and the anger, both directed at yourself and the person who wounded you. Call me foolish, if I say I would rather die than ever feel that again.
There was a time, and maybe still is, where pride was all I had. When I took Nataku and left my colony, it felt as if I were alone, as if they had rejected me. Perhaps that was a bit selfish and childish of me, to think it was me they were turning their backs on simply because they did not agree with my ideals. Those have always been a deeply rooted part of me, so an attack on them was like an attack on my very person. Meiran could never understand that. She could never see why I became so angry when she criticized my beliefs. To me, it was as if she were mocking me, as if she were saying I was less of a person because of what I felt. And maybe now, I can see that it was fear that drove her, as it has often drove me, a constant shadow I tried to shake to avoid the realization of my own inner weakness.
Pride, too, was all I had when my colony was obliterated. I was nothing but what I wore, what I felt, and what I did. What I wanted, then, was to eradicate every hint of war in space. If I had to destroy those who professed to fight with me to do it, then I was going to. It was like a fever, that held me in its grasp, a burning need that drove me half-mad. All I could feel, was this immense hatred, this immense pain, and I didn't know what to do with it all. So I channeled it into anger, and used it to fight with. It was my fuel. I needed nothing else, other than it. But there, it would only surface on the battlefield. To keep the others from knowing what a mess I was inside, I kept to myself. I know they often thought I was a cruel person, but it was easier for me that they see a lie, than the truth.
So we come back to pride. It has kept me away from Duo all this time, and it keeps me silent now. I don't think I could bear to see outright dismissal or even gentle reprimand in his face when I tell him. Perhaps it is foolish of me, or even selfish, to think that by coming here, telling him I care for him, he will drop everything that makes him what he is now, and be with me. I don't know what I thought. At this moment, I don't even know why I am really here, why I forced myself to come all this way on a whim without any tangible support. I should never have come. Duo has never given me any encouragement, any reason to think he returns my feelings. And now, all that is left for me to do is come up with a reason for being here, because it is apparent I can't tell him the truth.
"Find anything over there, Wu?" The object of my thoughts says suddenly, breaking me from them, and putting back into focus the cannister in my hands.
"It is empty," I conclude, settling it back on the shelf.
He sighs. "There has to be _something_ in here."
I school my face into a smooth mask, and then turn, eyeing him with silent recrimination. "Simply because you wish it, doesn't make it so."
"Yeah, well, don't be all negative on me here, or anything," he replies, pushing from the ground to glide across the room, where he joins me next to a group of dust-covered shelves.
"I was being realistic, there is a difference."
"Realism, pessimism, there is no difference," he dismisses, chewing at his lower lip in thought, before he turns to look at the door.
"This is the last of the rooms. Whatever is left, lies down the hall," I inform him.
"I know, I know."
We have been at this for at least an hour now. At my insistence, since Duo's chaotic approach is a stress to my nerves, we have started from the beginning, and systematically worked our way through every room we have encountered as we moved down. As I told Duo, there is only the last of the hall, which I am certain ends in some sort of hangar. In which case, we will need to put our helmets back on. Of course, I could be wrong. There is always that slim chance, but one must be prepared for the unknown. There could be more rooms, there could be nothing. Either way, this trip was a wasted venture for one of us. For me, if I say nothing, for Duo, if he finds nothing.
"Let's rest here for a bit."
I watch him move away, find a spot to sit in, and then stare at me with evident expectance.
"Why?"
"To prolong the excitement."
I stare at him. Sometimes, I really don't understand him.
"Prolong _what_ excitement?"
"Of exploring the last rooms, obviously," he tells me, as if it has been clear all along.
What point is there to that? As far as I am concerned, this is not exciting. The longer we wait, the longer it takes to do this. We could have everything done and over with, we could get out of here, and I could return to Earth, leaving Duo none the wiser.
He flashes me a grin suddenly, eyes filled with personal amusement. "Seriously, I thought we'd talk a bit."
Talk. I have decided I hate that word.
"About what?" I say, still refusing to sit down. If I sit down, then I agree with him, I invite him to pull me into a conversation that might lead somewhere I don't want to go.
"About what, he says... Wufei, we've seen each other, what, a handful of times over the last couple of years? I thought I'd be nice and ask how you're doing."
"Fine." I say curtly, hoping that will dispel further need to delve into exactly _how_ I've been over the years.
He rolls his eyes. "Same old Wufei."
I smirk. It comes to my lips with ease. "You expect me to change?"
He inclines his head. "No. The day you change, is the day I start making reservations for my condo in Hell because it's finally gotten a tolerable enough climate."
Amusing. I always forget just how amusing Duo Maxwell can be. Or, should I say, just how amusing _he_ thinks he can be. I have often wondered what makes him so sarcastic. Maybe it is a defense mechanism, the same way my superior, curt facade is. And his smiles, perhaps they are all false too. No, not all of them. But I have never seen one genuine, one completely free of everything other than pure joy, directed at me. I want that, but I have never known how to go about getting it.
"Make one for me while you're at it," I quip instead, folding my arms and eyeing him down the length of my nose in a manner I know is considered conceited.
He stares at me, unblinking. "Was that a joke? Don't scare me like that, shit..."
I shift, making a sound that conveys my disapproval of his language.
Actually, what comes out of Duo's mouth has never bothered me, even the curse words. While I don't exactly consider them a necessary part of the human language, I am not such a prude that the sound of them offends me. I simply know it bothers Duo when I look down on his manner of speaking, and so I've made a habit of it. Since I know he says them to annoy me, I feel that we are even. Only, he doesn't know that I really could give a damn less if he strings together five curse words in one sentence. So long as I am listening to the sound of his voice... what comes out hardly matters.
"Plug your ears if you don't like it," he mutters, playing with the end of his braid again.
"We are wasting time here," I point out, shifting my weight to the other side of my body.
His eyes snap to me, and in them, I sense anger. I'm not entirely certain why, but the small flash disappears as soon as it comes, leaving me no more time to think on it.
"Yeah, you would consider talking to me wasting time, wouldn't you, Wu?"
I say nothing. I can't say anything. I think I unintentionally hurt him.
"That's what I thought..." He returns, swinging his legs.
"That was not what I said. Do not make more of my words than is there."
He snorts. "How can I? You barely say a damn thing!"
"We cannot all be as prolific as you are with the human language," I shoot back. I get tired of having the way I am picked at. If I choose to talk less, perhaps it is because I have less to say. I don't consider idle chatter, the kind Duo does, to be balm on my wounds. When I hurt, I pull into myself. Perhaps I hurt all the time. Whatever the case, it doesn't matter.
"Maybe I like talking."
"Maybe I don't."
"Wonderful!" He snaps.
"Perfect!" I return, unfolding my arms so that they drop in front of me.
Please tell me I'm not really doing this. I'm not having a childish argument with Duo Maxwell. And it isn't feeling good.
Duo falls silent, and I am about to praise the saints with a miracle, when he starts laughing.
"God, Wufei, do you know how long I've waited for you to do that?"
I eye him blankly. "Do what?"
"Act your age!"
Drawing myself up stiffly, I say, "Maxwell, I-"
He waves his hand. "Don't ruin the moment by getting all indignant."
How can this entire, ridiculous arrangement feel comfortable? Me, standing here, in an abandoned base, arguing with Duo like a two year old, feels right somehow. Absurd. But I can't deny how calm I am, despite my inability to tell him my reasons for coming.
"I wasn't aware you knew words that big. I am going to have to readjust my opinion of you."
"I've got one gesture for you, Wu," he replies blithely, and then proceeds to flash me a rather nice view of his middle finger.
Duo always has to have the last word, or gesture, as the case may be. So do I. While, ordinarily, I would never stoop so low as to defend myself against a childish move such as that one, I can't resist. It seems like too much is coming to a head, as if I need to release some of this tension I have been carrying around within me for what feels like my entire life. I would have chosen another way to do it... but then, I suppose, one cannot be overly picky when the time finally does come. In other words, I'll take what I can get.
"Oh, really? Same to you," I say, as calmly as you please, and then mimic his gesture.
If I live to be a hundred, I will never forget the look on his face. Never. It is the exact expression of outright shock, such perfection, I almost wish I had a camera at this moment. It's not as if Duo has the monopoly on 'flying the bird' as he once so eloquently put it. Given the way he is looking at me, however, you would think so. Or maybe it is just that he finally realizes he knows less about me than what he thinks. I am always more than what I give them. Certainly, it is a part of me, but I can be everything I am not to them, and they would never realize it. I have done a much too perfect job of painting myself as a solitary bastard.
"Tell me you didn't just do that," he says, when he finally finds his voice.
"I could, but it would be a lie," I return blandly. "And I know how much you hate lying."
He falls silent again. Sometimes, I wish I could tell what he is thinking. He hides so much, like I do. For what purpose? To protect ourselves, to deny ourselves the right to live? Why do we hold what we are inside, push others away, and make masks to be something we are not? Is it so we can spend our lives alone, regretting what we never did, yet never doing it anyway? I don't understand that, I don't understand myself. Still, no matter how many realizations I come to, I cannot open my mouth and utter those words, the ones that have been trapped in my heart for so long it feels like they will be etched there for eternity.
"Am I your first time?"
"What?" I sputter, caught off guard, by his words, by the sudden flash of warmth that starts in the vicinity of my groin. Damn Duo Maxwell. No matter what I do, he always gets the better of me.
He looks amused again. "You know, the first person you ever flipped off?"
I gape at him. I can do nothing else. What kind of question is that? Why in all Hells does he even care? Does he wish to feel honored, because he is the very first person I ever lost my maturity with and gave into the childish urge pushing at the back of my mind? If so, then he can feel as honored as he wants to. I don't really care. I only wish he would be more careful with the way he words things. I don't need any more surprises such as that one. Not ones that make me aware of my hopeless lack of control, the humbling realization that, like all others, I am merely human.
"Yes, Maxwell. Feel honored. You are the first person I ever 'flipped off' as you put it," I reply, hoping I sound cool and collected.
He absorbs that, and in typical Duo fashion, changes the subject. "I never got to thank you."
"What?" I say again, wondering how many times in one day Duo will throw me off balance.
"For saving my life."
"That was over two years ago."
He shrugs. "Yeah, so, I didn't thank you."
Uncomfortable, I say, "It didn't require a thank you."
He looks surprised. "Man, I think _that_ requires the biggest thank you of all. Because otherwise, I wouldn't be here."
"If you say so," I respond irritably, wishing he would just drop it. Talking of it takes me back to that time, when I was even more uncertain, when I knew my feelings for him were the strongest and needed running from.
Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees, his hands pushing in on the sides of his face, so that he looks vaguely comical.
"Why'd you leave?"
Maybe I should have known things would wind themselves around to this eventually. Since that time, when I left, I have never allowed myself to be alone with Duo. That took away any opportunity he would have to question me on anything. By bringing myself here now, I have placed myself in a precarious position. I could say many things in answer. I could lie to him, I could be vague, or I could tell him the truth, that I ran because I was scared. Of the three, only being vague appeals to me.
"I had things I needed to do," I hedge.
"That's what Quatre said."
He sounds doubtful. Perhaps it isn't all of it, but that is part of why I left. I did have things I needed to do. I needed to find myself, to understand what it was I felt for him, and why. It doesn't make sense, but by caring for him, I almost felt as if I was betraying Meiran's memory. Stupid, considering she was dead, and would have called me a fool for remaining a monk afterward. But then, Meiran called me a fool at least once everyday of our knowing one another, so that would really have been no surprise.
His tone remains light, but his eyes are heavy, full of meaning, when he asks of me, "You had things you needed to do all this time, Wufei?"
It raises guilt in me, and to cover it, I use anger.
"I never said I was fighting with the rest of you. I never claimed to be one of you. I had my own reasons."
"'One of you'?" He echoes. "Like we were some kind of freaks or something, Wufei? Not good enough for you? Certainly, not a street rat, a confused circus performer, a lost soldier, and a disinherited heir..."
Now he sounds angry, as if he has any right.
"I never said that, Duo. You know damn well I never looked down on any of you that way," I return tightly, perilously close to losing my temper.
"Oh I do, do I? How the fuck should I know what you really think, Wufei, when you never tell me? Being psychic isn't one of my many talents, you know."
He is backing me into a corner. I can feel the room getting smaller the longer we talk. I hate being closed in, forced to share what I don't want to. I will lash out at him, and hurt him, and he will hate me for it. But then, I suppose it can't be helped, because once Duo gets a hold of something, he will not let go until he is satisfied. Nothing short of me leaving this room now, for good, will change that. So why is it that I can't move toward the door?
"What do you want, Maxwell? What are you looking for?"
"The truth, Wufei. You owe it to me."
"Oh, do I? I seem to recall I don't owe you anything. I saved your life, that is enough," I add, my face as remote and hard as my words.
He lifts his head, moving as if struck.
"So I should just kiss your ass for the rest of my life? Fuck that. You come here, treat me and my friends like you're better than us, as always, and now you expect me to just sit here and let you feed me any kind of bullshit you want? It isn't gonna happen. So if you don't like it, just go the hell away. I don't need this," he adds, rising, his face a dark mix of anger and hurt.
It takes something, to succeed in making Duo as angry as he is because he is always so good at hiding it. I feel helpless, lost, because I caused it, and I have no way of stopping it. It claws at my insides, twists me up, and leaves me more angry at myself than him. I know he is on the verge of leaving me, and I don't want him to go. But I don't know what to say to get him to stay either.
"Duo..."
"If you aren't going to say something I want to hear, Wufei, then just shut up."
I watch his back, for he has it turned to me now. I don't know what he is thinking. I don't know what his face looks like. I don't know anything. I am frustrated, confused, and dammit, this was not how this was supposed to happen. I have to do... something. If I leave here now, leave things like this, my ancestors will laugh me into the afterlife, and Meiran will call me the pitiful, wretched dog that I am. I cannot let that woman have the upper hand ever again.
Determined now, not exactly knowing what it is I am going to do, I close the distance between us with swift, uncertain strides, grasp his shoulders, spin him around, and fall into his eyes. Then I know. He may hit me, he may pull away, or he may surrender. Closing my eyes, I lean in and press my lips to his with the force of every pent up emotion rushing through me.
He doesn't respond.
Disappointment floods me, but I expected this.
My hands drop from his shoulders, lax and weak. I don't open my eyes, because I don't want to see his face. I just pull my lips away from the firm warmth of his, and start to turn. Now, I will leave. Because I have made a fool of myself enough. If the earth opened up and swallowed me now, taking me to my death, it would not be soon enough.
The air rushes from my chest on a gasp, as he grabs my arms and pulls me to him with such force, our bodies collide with an audible slap. Startled beyond words, I stare into his eyes, my face open for him to read, because I haven't got the time to pull all my emotions in. I see so much there. Pain, anger, surprise. I'm trying to take it all in, understand what is happening here, even as my muddled mind is attempting to deal with what if feels like to have every part of him pressed into every part of me. Nothing separates us, not even the whisper of air, and our hips touch, revealing our mutual desire, leaving my limbs weak with the knowledge.
"You're so stupid, Wufei," he tells me.
I nod numbly, wanting to protest.
And then his lips are on mine, demanding entrance, and I forget that he insulted me, forget where we are, forget my name.[1]
I feel heat as his tongue sweeps across mine, drawing a whimper from one of us, only I don't know which. I feel pressure, as our teeth grind, and my hands come up, one to curl around his neck, the other to tangle around his braid. I feel like fire has swept across my skin, only I don't care if it consumes me, so long as Duo keeps touching me like this. I feel complete, and I wonder why I waited so long.
When he pulls away, our hearts are beating in frantic rhythm together, like the thunder of horses in our chests. For a few, short seconds, I keep my eyes closed, savoring it, before I open them and reality comes back to me. This, as nice as it was, is only the beginning. My practical side demands that I recognize this. Nothing is solved by a kiss, certainly not this.
I open my eyes.
He is watching me carefully. "Why did you leave?"
"I was scared."
A small smile surfaces, but it carries no mirth. "The great Chang Wufei, scared?"
"Don't mock me, Duo Maxwell."
He sobers. "I'm not. I'm sorry."
I look away from him. "I was scared for many reasons. I still am," I add, turning back to him.
He looks at me as if he doesn't know what to say.
My insides are tight with tension. I have never relayed my inner weakness to anyone. Doing it now is difficult, regardless of what we have just shared.
Instead of elaborating further, I ask a question of my own. "Why did you kiss me back?"
"Because I wanted to. I'm glad I did. That was the best kiss I've ever had."
I am warmed and frozen at the same time.
"Oh, and you've had many?" I reply, lifting my nose slightly.
He looks amused again. "No. There hasn't exactly been that much time for kissing. Not even after the war..." He shrugs. "I didn't find anyone I wanted. Simple as that. What about you? You kissed many people?"
I grunt.
"Come on, answer the question."
"No," I finally admit reluctantly. "No one, but you."
His eyebrows raise together. "Seriously?"
I stiffen. "I am not in the habit of lying."
"Don't take it the wrong way! I... I'm glad, that's all. Jeez..." he trails off, looking somewhat embarrassed.
"The great Duo Maxwell, embarrassed?"
"Hah, hah, very funny," he answers, but he is smiling.
Then, with some mutual reluctance, we pull apart, staring at each other uncertainly. The ground we walk now, is apparently a foreign one to both of us. For me, that makes it better. If Duo had been experienced where I was not, I would have felt even more out of my element.
"Well... I guess we have some talking to do, huh?" He says, tugging on his braid.
Talking. I know I hate that word.
End Part 3
Note:
[1] If this is actually possible, please direct me toward the nearest man
that can show me! Lord love fiction. Anything can happen. ^_~ Oops, my
cynical side is showing!
(:./jen/moment3)
