02-Jan-2002
Title: Sheltered Hearts 3/?
Author: hinokumo
Archive: GW Addiction; Deathfics; Leviathan's Lair; and my page, Necessary Distractions. Anyone else, just ask.
Categories: Angst, shounen ai, yaoi, maybe some sap.
Rating: PG-13, soon to progress to R/NC-17
Warnings: Somewhere in the course of this will be lemon, language, and violence.
Disclaimers: Don't own any of the characters, except my own--boy, that's vague and confusing--so don't bother me about it.
Notes: Takes place after my other fic, BoM, and about four years after Endless Waltz. Mostly a 1x2/2x1 fic, but I'm gonna have the others (3,4,5) as well. E-mail me at hinokumo@yahoo.com and tell me your thoughts^__^
Spoilers: EW, maybe. Other than that, none I think.
Shadows and the pale glow of artificial starlight held their breath and danced in silence around the two figures in the alley, anticipation guiding every step of the waltz. Slow, shallow intakes of breath and the pounding of beating hearts sped on by adrenaline drowned out the sounds of the city, the noise of nearby pedestrian traffic reducing itself to nothing but a murmur in the recesses of trained minds. Duo Maxwell, Shinigami, drew in the shadows of the night like some long forgotten dark god preparing for battle. His large eyes were clear, hard, and focused; every muscle in his body relaxed, ready at a moment's notice to strike. He held the pistol in his hand with horrific adequacy, and though his back was literally to the wall, the American showed no sign of fear or distress, betrayed none of the turmoil that was in his heart as he stared across at a man he had once called a partner, a friend.
Heero Yuy stood motionless, mimicking the relaxed posture of the man opposite him. He knew from experience that the self-proclaimed God of Death had every right to wield such a title, that underneath the casual, joking exterior was a trained professional, just as himself. The American had always downplayed his own skill when compared to Heero's, but the Japanese man knew this to be false. Duo Maxwell was a very dangerous and unpredictable opponent. He forced himself to relax even more. They did not have time for games.
Several minutes passed.
"...Well?" Duo inquired in a clipped whisper.
Heero blinked once. How to proceed? One false movement or gesture could prove problematic for both of them. "You haven't lost your touch. That's good--I was afraid you were out of practice."
Duo's eyes narrowed a fraction. What game was he playing? If he thinks he's going to distract me, Duo thought to himself, he's got another thing coming. His violet eyes gave his opponent a second cursory appraisal. Clunky boots, tight black pants, long-sleeve black shirt with a high neckline. The corner of Duo's lip twitched. Well, there is ONE way he could distract me...
Heero's eyes widened partially before he caught himself. The expression that had just crossed the American's face was...unsettling. Not the expression itself, just the fact that it had been aimed at him; it was usually the one he had come to term 'the hentai look.'
Duo growled. "Well?" he asked again.
"No," the Japanese said while slowly raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.
The pistol snapped to eye level. "What do you mean, 'no'? Are you here to kill me or not?"
"No," Heero repeated softly, deep blue eyes shining in the darkness.
Duo felt Shinigami melting away. Kuso...why did he have to be so fucking gorgeous? The pistol was lowered and he leaned back casually onto the wall behind him. Heero let his arms fall to his sides.
"What are you doing here?" Duo repeated, trying to keep the edge of coldness in his voice. "Did Quatre send you?"
"Quatre? No, I came here on my own."
Duo stared at him. "And why?" he prompted, mildly agitated. He had always had a problem with concise people...
"There have been several assassination attempts on your life."
Duo snarled. "And you just happened to be in the area and came to see if I'd been killed off, ne? Disappoint you, Heero?"
Keeping his movements clearly visible, the Japanese man stooped to retrieve Duo's other weapon, lifting it from the cold cement and slowly offering it, hilt first, to its owner. "You never disappoint me, Duo."
The two of them gazed at each other for an undetermined amount of time before Duo reached out to take the knife. Both weapons were once again concealed with the gesture of one hand. He had to look away from Heero. "Yeah, right."
"Duo..."
"Never mind. All right, I'm fine--I can take care of myself." His throat felt tight. "You can leave, go back to wherever the hell you've been all this time."
A pause. "I can't."
Duo whirled on him. "And why the hell not?" Standing not a foot away, Duo could definitely tell how much the Japanese man had grown. Both of them had matured, but Heero was now equal to the American's height. The last time he had seen Heero, they had both been skinny. Now, the two of them had obviously filled out with more lean muscle; he could see every curve and line under the Japanese's dark top. Cinnamon and vanilla subtly caught his attention.
"I quit the services. I'm here on L2 to help you."
"Uh huh. So Quatre did send you." He snorted, stepping back and crossing his arms. "He's early."
"N?" Heero blinked in obvious confusion. His head jerked to the left, down the opposite end of the alley a split second before he tackled Duo to the ground.
"Heero!? What--"
Two gunshots rang out into the night, one from Duo's right and the second from a gun Heero had pulled with amazing speed from some unknown place on his personage. There was the scrambling sound of retreating footsteps, followed by the screech of tires, then silence.
"Damnit," Duo cursed.
"Daijoubu?"
"...yeah. I don't need help, you know."
"Aa."
"..."
"..."
"So... are you gonna to get off of me or were you just getting comfortable?" Duo watched with equal amazement and satisfaction as the closest thing to a blush he had ever seen crossed Heero Yuy's face as he struggled to remove himself from his current position.
Heero stood quickly and pulled Duo to his feet. "It's not safe here."
"Really?" he drawled.
Heero glared.
Duo sighed. "Fine. I guess you can come to my place till we figure things out. Then you're on your own, got it? I don't need a bodyguard."
"Hn," was the Japanese's only response as he followed Duo back out onto the streets.
tbc...
Oi oi, I know it's been awhile. Being sick and watching Trigun suddenly got me in the mood to write some more Gundam! Go figure. *sneezes* And I'm still sick, so gomen for any weirdness--it's fever-induced, I swear! Work is killing me and the multitude of projects I'm trying to work on is giving me a brain fry... send me caffeine and sugar... I need it. Till next time. Feedback always welcome:D
(:./hinokumo/hearts3)
