13-Mar-2006
Splendor Restored 10/13+E
Author: BadMomma
Warnings: AU (my first), limey
Pairings: 1x2x1, some mention of 3x4, OCs
Rating: R for language and some sexual situations
Disclaimer: Own them, I do not.
Archived: GWA, ff.net, Under the Bridge
Feedback: Craved, greatly appreciated and always answered.
Notes: See Chapter 1. Duo POV.
Summary: A Renovations Consultant finds more than just old buildings of interest on his new job site when he gets tangled up with the resort's Program Director.
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
It's one of the basic laws of nature. It is physics, science and logic in its truest forms.
Throw something up and it will fall back down.
Make a fool of yourself and someone will notice.
I have spent the day being reminded of an old song Howard loves to sing. His favorite part goes like this: 'You don't tug on Superman's cape, you don't spit into the wind, you don't pull the mask off the ole' Lone Ranger and you don't mess around with Jim.' He used to sing it to me when I was younger, back when we lived together. Every time I complained about some inevitability, every time I did something stupid and it came back to bite me in the ass, Howard would sing about Leroy Brown.
For a long time, I really hated that song.
He never, ever, told me 'I told you so', but if he thought I should have seen something coming, I was guaranteed at least one refrain.
The funny thing is that as I got older, moved out on my own and became the responsible young man that I am - usually - I found myself doing the same thing. So much so that my staff knows the song well enough to sing the whole thing - even without prompting or jumbling the lyrics. Two years ago, Richard went as far as to buy me a CD of 70's music for my birthday solely because it was one of the tracks.
So here's the kicker. I think I spent the better portion of last night spitting into the proverbial wind. Evidenced, apparently, by the enormous hocker I have on my face today.
Why does Duo Maxwell have massive amounts of spittle on his face this fine Sunday afternoon? Because apparently Duo Maxwell is incapable of keeping his libido in check.
If I were a lesser man, I might blame it on the drink. If I were a lesser man, I might blame it on the influence other people's comments had on me. Hell, given enough time, I might even be able to come up with an endless number of reasons for my actions, but it all boils down to one thing: I'm horny and I have the hots for a guy who probably wouldn't see me that way in a million years.
So, if I may be so bold in the solitude of my own apartment, I think I can honestly say: Heero Yuy is the reason I have so 'spitted unto the wind'.
It all started yesterday round about eight-thirty in the morning. There I was, putting the finishing touches on the set up in my booth when sex-appeal-incarnate made his first appearance. If I'd been surprised the previous two days when he showed up to help us assemble the booths, it was nothing compared to my surprise at that moment. He'd left the festival grounds at two in the morning, long after some of the hired help had; I certainly hadn't expected to see him again that early. And, as if his being there so early wasn't enough, he'd brought me breakfast.
He smiled that cute, almost boyish, shy smile of his while offering me a home-made breakfast sandwich and a travel mug full of coffee. He said he figured I wouldn't have had time to make myself anything since he knew I was supposed to be out there again early to deal with the arriving vendors and to add a few finishing touches to my booth in particular. He also said he suspected I hadn't been eating regularly lately. He was right, of course, but I was more than a little shocked that he'd noticed. And when I sputtered and stumbled over my appreciation, he waved it away as if it was nothing, saying that it was his habit to wake early no matter what, and that making breakfast for two instead of one required no added effort. So I sat, at his insistence, and woofed my food down while he perused the final layout of the booth.
I'm very glad that he made me take the time to sit and eat, because if he hadn't, I probably would have missed the look on his face when he discovered my one and only finishing touch: the sponsorship poster. It wasn't anything all that extravagant, but the pleased and surprised look on his face was worth the extra hours of sleep I'd sacrificed to make it.
It was an eleven-by-seventeen glossy poster that read: This booth was made possible by the support and sponsorship of Heero Yuy, Renovations Consultant, Dorlain-Dermail, Inc. The poster had a border made to look like an unfinished, wooden picture frame. The letters of Heero's name were made up by pictures of paint brushes, screw drivers, levels, a 'wheel', sketch pads, pencils, drafting triangles and a folding meter. I'd lifted the firm's logo from their corporate webpage.
He shot me a wide-eyed, slightly embarrassed look and said 'You really didn't have to do that.' To which I answered by saluting him with the remains of my breakfast and pointing out it was the least I could do and that he more than deserved it. That shy smile came back into play and he turned to look at the poster again, but not before I noticed the slight rise of color on his cheeks.
God, but he was the stuff my dreams were made of.
OK, so blushing is not like the biggest turn-on on the planet, but it wasn't the blush that got to me. It was just one of those perfect moments, when he is so thoroughly caught by surprise, it leaves his emotions unguarded, raw. It's as if he doesn't expect anyone to do anything nice for him. Here's this guy, young, smart, successful, witty, interesting, kind, serious - and let's not forget gorgeous - and there's not a conceited, snotty, self-righteous, expectant bone in his body. Talk to him about business, sports, politics, music, anything, and he's this confident, well-rounded human being. Put him where the spotlight is on him and he becomes this almost bashful little boy you just want to... hug to death. It's like he doesn't realize how awesome he is. He's so damned nice! Knowing that he was uncomfortable, I left him alone for a bit, busying myself with getting my papers, pens and paints ready for the eventual arrival of festival goers.
Officially, the gates opened at nine, but there were always a few early visitors, since some of the staff scheduled to work at the booths usually brought their kids with them. Maxine's youngest, Clarisse, was my first customer, arriving a little before nine and asking for a chain of daisies to be painted across her forehead. Heero watched with rapt attention as the design came to life, and then volunteered to take a picture of us together, when she mentioned that she liked my pirate costume.
The morning continued in that same vein, Heero taking on the job of collecting payment and helping the people make their selections before stepping up for the service of their choice. I got a slight reprieve when Candy - one of my summer staff - showed up at eleven to take over the bulk of the face-painting business and I was left mostly to do caricatures. I had a great laugh the first time the CD with my background music queued up the track with the poem I'd written. I think Heero had forgotten all about it in the weeks that had passed since our meeting on the stairs. Better than that, though, was the look on his face - which practically had me rolling on the floor - when Candy commented on how much my poetic skills had improved when compared to lasts year's limerick.
Richard showed up at one to relieve me and I took Heero off to get some lunch. We almost came to blows when he tried to pay for his own lunch, but in the end I shamed him into submission by pointing out he'd essentially bought me breakfast. Alright, there was that, and the threat that I would draw a caricature of him and post it next to the sponsorship poster, which would mysteriously end up center-stage at the front of the booth. Never underestimate the power of embarrassment.
When my lunch break was over, we headed back to the booth. On the way, I tried to convince Heero that he shouldn't stay there all afternoon, that he should really take some time to explore the whole fair. It wasn't all that big and wouldn't likely take too much time, but I was hoping he'd find something to distract him, if only for a little while. I felt really bad about the fact that he'd already spent so much of his free time working to make this event happen and he wouldn't be enjoying any of it. I shouldn't have worried. Not half an hour after settling back into the swing of things, Hilde showed up.
In typical Hilde fashion, she breezed in and started shaking things up. It seems she'd been working since opening at one of the kiddie game booths - balls in buckets, hoops on bottles, one of those things - and was ready for a little fun. Since I was scheduled to stay at the booth until five, I convinced her to drag Heero off instead. I didn't see either of them again for two hours.
When they did get back, they came bearing gifts. We shared a bag of popcorn, a funnel cake and some cotton candy in between customers. Eventually Hilde took over face-painting duties, and even Heero got in on the act when one of the kids requested something a little beyond her artistic abilities. Stars, hearts, moons, and flowers she could handle; animal features, she could not. The one animal she did attempt was so bad Heero offered to redo it for free if the kid went and washed it off first. Candy and Richard reappeared a little before five and I handed over the reins to them, promising to be back in time to help them pack up at eight. It was then, as we were getting ready to leave the booth, that my two oldest and closest friends showed up, Horatio Samuel Jackson and Antonio Enrique Pas. A.K.A. Jax and Pax.
Hilde took control of the conversation right away, making sure to introduce Heero to the guys and vice versa, and making sure to bring up our high school nicknames - Jax, Max and Pax - and how clever we'd thought we were being by altering our last names so that they'd rhyme, insisting that everyone call us by those names. While the guys and I caught up a little on what was happening with each other, Hilde took Heero aside - under the pretense of helping her with a customer - and attempted to fill him in on every story she'd heard about us and the stupid things we'd done. When we realized what she was doing - and since she was venturing into embarrassing territory - we abducted him, leaving the booth for a nearby table and steering the conversation to plans for the evening. It wasn't often that the guys came to visit, since Jax was still going to school for his MBA and Pax was working full time, so we always made it a point to go out together when they were in town.
We were sitting at adjacent tables; Heero between Hilde and I at one, Jax and Pax across from us, negotiating the time and destination of the outing. I could tell by the occasional looks he was giving me, discreet as they were, that Heero was worrying over whether he would be welcome or not. I bumped shoulders with him to get his attention and gave him a quick nod, hoping he'd understand that I expected him to join us. The slight nod he gave me in return said that he would.
I was pleased with myself. Despite having spent the better portion of the last three days with him, I still wanted more. I also wanted him to get to know my best friends. I knew they'd get along great, just as he had with Hilde - once I'd clued him in on the nature of our friendship. It occurred to me that by the end of the night, he'd probably hear plenty more embarrassing stories about our younger days, but I was still glad that I'd managed to steer Hilde away from her previous topic of conversation. The title of Max hadn't stuck for me, and Jax and Pax weren't such bad nicknames to end up with - even their families called them by those names on occasion - but some of the other shit we'd thought up was pretty lame.
If I was happy that we'd escaped the shame of our other self-appointed high school title, it didn't last long. Lucy showed up not fifteen minutes later, exclaiming from three tables away what a joy it was to finally see the Three Musketeers together again.
The look Heero gave me while the others exchanged greetings was nearly enough to make me spontaneously combust. It was a bastard mix of amusement and disbelief; well, that, and something looking suspiciously like a very facetious 'Oh, how cute'. I was again saved from death-by-blush by Lucy's reminder about the bonfire on the beach that night, mentioning that most of the old regulars had already confirmed their intent to go. In the hustle and the rush of getting ready for the festival, it seems both Hilde and I had completely forgotten. Jax and Pax eagerly accepted the invitation, looking forward to meeting up with the old gang. I turned back to Heero to make sure he understood that he was welcome to join us and the shy little boy was back.
I quickly leaned into him and told him that in no uncertain terms should he consider skipping. He looked unsure and shot a quick glance at the others. Jax seemed to catch on right away and launched into a major sales pitch to convince Heero. While he was doing that, Pax shot me a look - and without him having to say it - I knew what he thought. Seeing us together, he'd assumed certain things about our relationship. I returned his look with an _expression that begged him to wait for an explanation. He accepted it, but I knew he would be watching us even closer than before.
We spent the next couple of hours just hanging out, shooting the breeze. Various people stopped by the table and talk ran the gamut from high school to politics. When the time came for me to head back to pack up the booth, everyone joined me and we were done in no time flat. We split up with the understanding that we'd be meeting up again within the hour for a night of partying.
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine things would turn out as they did.
Drinking does not so much lower your inhibitions as it does make you stupid and reckless. It makes you ignore that part of your brain that controls decorum, thereby making you more susceptible to the voice of your inner idiot. It makes you laugh in the face of common sense and say 'Hey, screw you! We're all friends here and we're just having fun.' The evil, smirking voice of your evil, inebriated self that tells you there's absolutely no logical reason to hide what you're feeling or continue to bury your deepest desires. Right. Like I said, freakin' stupid!
And it's that same vile voice that takes over your input control centers. The voice is the one that says 'Hey look! He's been eyeing you. He must be interested.' The same demonic voice that, with unmitigated gall, latches on to supposed logic and fervently zeroes in on minor details to the exclusion of all else. It makes note only of the facts that work to its advantage. Like? Like: He's been sitting next to you all night. He's staying by your side pretty much wherever you go. He's smiling that sweet, shy smile at you and only you.
Yes, this is the same voice that completely ignores all the major details that would truly - logically - explain the minor ones. Like? Oh, like that he wouldn't be there if you hadn't insisted. Like that he's already admitted to you that he considers you a friend. Like that he often feels distinctly uncomfortable in social situations and appreciates your helping him feel like he fits in.
And this is where the reckless part comes in - because it is reckless and inconsiderate to act out with those ideas in mind. To touch more than you usually do. To take advantage of that quiet, accommodating nature of his. I mean I'd done it before, that day we went to watch the soccer game. Despite the fact that Alex had commented on my behavior, going as far as to speculate that Heero was my 'new squeeze', Heero had said nothing about it. He'd taken my slightly possessive behavior in stride and not backed off. And now, a few weeks later, when I finally get to see more of that relaxed little boy look of his, I practically maul him.
But when I think about it, and I'll admit some things are a little fuzzy about the later parts of last night, I have to wonder if it was really all in my mind. Yeah, OK, so maybe I was ignoring some of the more rational, logical reasons for his hanging out with me almost all the time. But it's not like I could have imagined some of the things he said or did. I mean, yeah, I have a good imagination and may have fantasized a time or two about how things would be between us. But the Heero that did and said the things I remember him doing and saying is not the Heero from my imagination.
He licked me, damn it! He fucking well licked my finger while I was holding that damned bottle. And that 'I like to watch' comment - accompanied by the look I got - was not in my imaginary Heero's repertoire. Well, maybe the look is in the repertoire, but definitely not the comment. So see, here's where reckless and stupid come back into play, because I wanted it to be that way. I liked that he was watching me, touching me, playing along with me. And I kept leading him farther and farther down the path. And it'd all be fine and dandy if it hadn't had the undesirable effect of making him push me away.
Yeah right, he needed to talk to Trowa. That was a lame-ass excuse if ever I'd heard one, but I guess he was just grasping at some reason not to hang around me any longer. I guess he forgot that he'd told me he'd talked to his roommate that morning before coming to the festival and that everything was going great. According to yesterday morning's account, Trowa was finishing up some small job he'd picked up right after Heero moved into the Glades and was hoping to be on site by the end of the month. We'd talked quite a bit about it that afternoon, between face paintings and caricatures. It was also when he'd told me that Trowa had been seeing someone since their last year in college and the way he had ever so delicately avoided any reference to the significant other's gender let me convince myself the guy must be gay.
So yeah, what are the chances that Heero was straight if he was living with a gay guy? Slim to none, in my book. See? Reckless. I wanted it to be that way so badly, I just let myself believe it - let myself entertain my chances all afternoon. And when I finally got a little alcohol into my system, I blew it.
I mean, that had to be the reason for the blow-off, right? Pax and Jax noticed how out of control I was last night. They've been needling me about it all morning. They'd probably still be at it if they hadn't promised to take Anita out somewhere this afternoon. Shit, even Nick made a comment about it last night. What was it that the asshole had said? Something about 'my own personal eye candy with a formidable ass'.
So we're back to actions and reactions. Action: Duo acts like a slut, blatantly coming on to the object of his affections and the hottest guy to stay at the resort in ages. Reaction: Truckloads of grief from my oldest friends and very possibly squelching any chance of keeping a new one.
I've really got to get my head out of my asshole, finish my laundry and figure out a way to straighten things out with Heero. And all before five o'clock when I have to go set up for tonight's dinner.
Damn, I wonder if Heero's gonna skip out on it? He was supposed to sit with The Girls again tonight. He promised to the other day and he wouldn't just not show up without saying so, but I doubt he really wants to talk to me right now. Not after my performance last night. I guess I'll just have to take my chances, and if any of The Girls ask, I'll just tell them he was tired or something.
Oh well, only time will tell. I think I've turned this sucker around in my head long enough to realize that the next move is up to him. If he avoids me from now on, then I'll take that as my cue that I screwed things up beyond repair. If he doesn't, then I graciously take whatever he's got to offer, consider myself lucky that he is as nice a guy as he is, and let him set the tone for our friendship.
Right now I need to get off this stupid couch and get my shit done.
End Part 10
(:./bm/splendor10)
