Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ And You Hear Me Call ❯ And You Hear Me Call, Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

And You Hear Me Call

Chapter 4

Pairing: 1+2/2x1

Warnings: Angst, drama, sap

Category: Post-EW

Rated R for eventual sex, language and violence

Gundam Wing copyright Bandai, Sunrise, and Sotsu Agency.

 

Thanks to Diamroyal and Natea for beta-reading!

 

“It's the season of eyes meeting over the noise
and holding fast with sharp realization
It's the season of cold making warmth a divine intervention
you are safe here you know now”

--Vienna Teng, “The Atheist Christmas Carol”

 

Duo wanted to wake up and hope it was all due to something bad he'd eaten for lunch today, like that cider sausage one of the co-workers had brought in. That hadn't felt good in his stomach, but he'd gotten better.

 

At least a weird dream would explain why Heero was kissing him. But it wasn't a dream, since in his dreams, touch wasn't that vivid, and there was no way he was forgetting about the way Heero's lips felt on his own—a bit dry, but warm and kind of off target—more on the side of Duo's mouth than the center.

 

There wasn't any tongue involved—Duo thanked God for that—instead, it was almost...polite. And tentative. It still didn't kill the shock, though. When Heero pulled back, staring was all Duo could do. He couldn't even put a hand up to his mouth to confirm things.

 

This was too much for one day.

 

“Wh-what was that?” Duo croaked. “I didn't—I—Heero, you like me like /that/?”

 

A nonchalant shrug. “It seemed like the right thing to do,” he said.

 

“/What/?”

 

“Well, not kissing you on the mouth. I meant to go for your cheek.” Heero looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

 

“I...I don't know about this, man. I'm okay with sticking around, but...but...I gotta think about this. I can't say yes or no right now.” He fixed his stare on Heero's shirt, a black wrinkled button-down.

 

Even now he didn't know whether or not to be repulsed. During the war, there hadn't been time for relationships of any sort, and afterwards...well, he'd dated around here and there, but nothing that had lasted, and nothing he'd initiated either. Besides, being a Preventer kept him busy.

 

He felt Heero shake him a little and looked at him. “I'm fine,” he said. “Sorry. It's just a lot to take right now. Can you give me some time to think about it?”

 

“How long?”

 

Duo shifted on the ground uncomfortably. “A week. Assuming things go well.” He sighed, seeing Heero's questioning look, and said, “We're doing a raid on the Lysenkov Syndicate—they're getting too hard for the cops to handle. Next Saturday's when everything goes down.”

 

Heero sighed, the last of it coming out in a long-drawn hiss.

 

“Somebody's gotta do it,” Duo said. “If things go okay, I should have an answer for you by then.” He stood up shakily, disengaging himself from Heero. “Assuming I get out alive—which is a fairly good chance, let's be optimistic—you'll have an answer. Can't guarantee that you'll like it, but I /will/ get back to you.”

 

He looked down at Heero, who was still crouched on the ground. He looked so small from up here, Duo thought, and realized that he probably looked the same way too, since both of them, even at eighteen, could still see eye to eye. Duo liked to think, however, that he was just a bit taller.

 

“Is...is that okay?” Duo asked. “It's the best I can do at this point.”

 

Heero peered up at him through his messy bangs. The whole thing wrenched Duo's heart in a bad way, he looked so.../upset/ just from the way he was on the floor like that. But after a moment or two, he gave a slow nod.

 

“Okay,” Duo said briskly, hunkering down and gripping Heero's shoulder in that guy-friendly way he always did. “Hang in there, buddy. I'll see you in a week.”

 

As he left the apartment, the only thing registering in Duo's head, other than shock, was how much of a moron he'd turned out to be. That could have gone a lot better.

 

******

 

The week had been a long wait for Heero, but he'd managed. It'd probably helped that he didn't see Duo too much in the office, and when he did, it'd been a glimpse before he turned the corner, looking over files or talking with fellow agents.

 

Heero had also asked Trowa over lunch one day if he'd seen Duo at home.

 

“Only once or twice. Never talked to him, though. Looked pretty tired,” Trowa had replied, before finishing his salad. “I thought you two were okay, though.”

 

Not wanting to tell Trowa about the kiss, Heero had shrugged and changed the subject. Duo, from what he could tell, was shocked, but that was all he could see for right now. Until it wore off, Heero wouldn't really know what Duo thought of the whole thing.

 

To tell the truth, the kiss hadn't been a calculated move. It'd been pure instinct, even though it was supposed to be a casual peck on Duo's cheek as a sign of gratitude. Since Duo turned, it'd gone on the lips. What /made/ Heero do it, he didn't know. Maybe it was how close they were to each other; he could smell the Old Spice deodorant Duo had gotten so fond of a few years back, mixed with soap, sweat, and a faint peppery scent that had to be Duo's own. Heero didn't know.

 

All he knew was he'd had an intense longing for Duo. He hadn't realized it until recently, and he certainly hadn't expected that feeling to express itself the way it did. It had, though, and Duo taking a week off hadn't been such a bad idea—Heero needed some time to adjust to what they'd both be going into at this rate. Before, there hadn't been time to think about that, never mind what sexual orientation they both were.

 

The sexual orientation part could go to hell, for all he cared. Heero liked Duo. He didn't think he'd like anybody else, male or female. Just Duo. He wanted to be with Duo, only Duo, and didn't want Duo with anyone else.

 

Assuming the mission on the Lysenkovs went well today, he'd find out. Instead of bothering Une at the command center, Heero had tapped into the radio channel everyone on the mission was currently using and listening for Duo while he did paperwork. That was all he could do for right now, according to Commander Une; he, along with the rest of the Preventers, needed to learn sign language in order to communicate properly, and until then, he wasn't allowed on field missions.

 

Teaching lip reading had been out of the question; it was a hard skill to acquire, and, as he'd learned with Trowa, Quatre and Wufei, sometimes they didn't understand /anything/ he said if he wasn't too careful.

 

“This is Agent Maxwell. Entered Lysenkov mansion. Over.” Duo sounded tense, but controlled over the radio.

 

Heero put down his pen, devoting all of his attention to the little webradio on his computer.

 

“Maxwell to base. Basement of the mansion is all clear. I repeat, the basement is all cl-” The sound of gunshots firing rapidly cut him off.

 

“Shit! Shit! /Shit/! Not good! Get down! Get /down/! Everybody do-” Another shot rang out, followed by a loud whine before Duo's radio cut out.

 

“Maxwell? Maxwell? Where the fuck did you go?”

 

“I can't see where he is! He's not responding!”

 

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!”

 

******

 

Agonizing, Heero thought, was an inadequate way to describe how the long wait was for him. He hadn't heard anything since Duo's radio was shot, and while it didn't mean Duo was necessarily /dead/, it also didn't mean he was in one piece.

 

Talking to Commander Une was out of the question; Heero knew full well she only knew as much as he did. He'd spent the time trying to finish up the paperwork as a distraction, but that hadn't worked. All he could do was wait and see if Duo's name ended up in the dead list, and if not there, the injured list, and if neither, hopefully he was accounted for and not MIA.

 

He hated the waiting. Tonight, or tomorrow at the latest, they'd know what happened to Duo and the rest of the team on that mission, and one would think that was enough. On the other hand, Heero hadn't been counting on Duo getting killed or injured.

 

So what was Heero doing? He was sitting at his desk, trying to stay calm, and getting up every now and then to see if there'd been any changes in the casualty lists. Duo hadn't appeared yet in the dead category, and those were usually the first to appear. He also wasn't on the injured, which could mean he was perfectly fine, missing, or his injury wasn't serious enough to appear on the injured list yet.

 

At one point, Heero had thought about going to Commander Une and asking if there was anything he could do, like joining any necessary reinforcements. He'd actually gone to the command center before remembering that so far, all communication was done via radio, and without a voice, he'd be useless.

 

That was the worst part of the waiting; to Heero, it meant he couldn't do /anything/ to help out, and in this particular situation, he'd been useless from the beginning, thanks to his inability to talk. Sure, he could tap on the radio, but that would take time to decipher, and he'd slow the team down instead.

 

Until they got the communication problem solved, he was little more than a liability out on the field.

 

Right now, Heero really wanted his voice back. He wanted it so he could tell Une he wanted to volunteer if they needed reinforcements, to ask if there was anything he could /do/ besides sitting here and waiting helplessly. If he'd had his voice, maybe he could have stopped Duo and told him not to go, even if Duo wouldn't have listened.

 

If he'd only figured out how he felt towards Duo before he lost his voice and told him. If only it'd been earlier.

 

If only he'd never been /shot/ in the first place. They were still investigating the assassination attempt that had happened well over a month ago, but even if they found out whoever did it, Heero still wasn't going to talk again.

 

The geography, Heero thought, touching the scar on his neck, was forever changed. No reversing /this/.

 

Now it was getting late. The tallies of the dead, injured and missing would still be going on overnight, but there wasn't any point in waiting any longer. If anything happened to Duo, he'd definitely know by morning.

 

Heero shut down the computer and started gathering his things together. He'd check the lists one more time before going home.

 

“Jesus. I thought you'd be home already.”

 

Heero jerked his head up to see Duo leaning against the open doorway, wearing a tired grin.

 

“Duo? How-”

 

“Triage,” Duo said, moving a bloodied shoulder. “You're not that hurt, you're bumped way back, remember? Given the way that mission went, I was way way back. `course, if I hadn't ducked in time, I'd have been hustled to the OR before the blood hit the ground.” He laughed weakly.

 

The rest of him looked like a mess; his uniform was disheveled, a sleeve torn where he'd been wounded. Strands of hair were escaping his braid, and he looked like he could use a good night's sleep.

 

Heero went over to the doorway. “How bad is it?” he asked.

 

“Wha?” Duo frowned. “Sorry, didn't catch that. Could you mouth it a little slower?”

 

Heero repeated the question again, this time pointing to the bloodied bandage on Duo's shoulder.

 

“Oh, this?” Duo gingerly moved his shoulder up and down. “It's a graze. Damn good thing my radio was there or it'd have taken my arm out. And, maybe if they were too late, me along with it, but let's not think about /that/.”

 

Only a graze. A glance told Heero that the worst Duo had had were a couple stitches. No wonder he hadn't appeared on the lists yet. He'd never felt so relieved.

 

Without thinking, Heero wrapped both arms around Duo, ignoring the other's surprised yelp. The two of them remained still for an undetermined amount of time—Heero didn't know and didn't care, frankly. He was too occupied with the sound of Duo's breathing, his familiar smell, just all the sensations of Duo being here and unharmed in front of him right now.

 

Then Duo made a few uncomfortable noises, and Heero realized he'd crack Duo's ribs if he held him any tighter.

 

“Sorry,” he said, pulling back but still keeping his hands on Duo. “I was worried.”

 

Duo laughed. “Yeah. /I/ should be sorry about that. They kept me in the waiting room forever, though. Shoulda thought about letting you know.”

 

He paused. “So. About that answer I was supposed to give you...”

 

Heero braced himself.

 

“...I'm not exactly in the best shape right now, but what would you say to checking out that new bar sometime next week?”

 

******

 

Normally, Heero didn't like bars. They were cramped, noisy, smoky, and even with the discounts he'd get by going in on Margarita Mondays or Karaoke Thursdays (he'd only done that because Trowa had recommended that bar for the good drinks), the cover charges were /never/ worth it.

 

But the bar he and Duo were in right now was different. Heero still saw a few smokers scattered here and there, but the bar was big enough to accommodate them without having the smoke waft over to where he and Duo were sitting. Another was that Duo didn't have to shout over the others, even when he was across from Heero. The bars he'd been to were so loud he'd seen one person yell to another, even though they were right next to each other.

 

“Got our beers!” Duo plunked two steins down on the wooden table. “God, they look good. The barkeeps here sure know how to pour alcohol.” He gestured at the foam on top. “Look at that. Just...damn. That's a good head right there.”

 

Heero took his beer and gave it a sip.

 

“Whaddyathink?” Duo asked, taking his own and sitting down.

 

Heero nodded. “It's good,” he replied.

 

Duo grinned, raising his stein and taking a large gulp, sighing happily. “That hits the spot,” he said, leaning back against his seat. “Do you want to shoot some pool first or get something to eat? Oh, wait, they've got a band playing in fifteen minutes or so if you wanna listen. I hear they're supposed to be great.”

 

“I don't know how to play pool,” Heero said. “Do you know if there's anything good?”

 

Duo shrugged lazily, reaching for the menu. “I'll teach you the ins and outs of pool. Don't know it that well myself, though. Anyway, we'll do that after we give the band a listen. Let's check out what they got first.”

 

Before Heero had a chance to look at the menu, he heard someone nearby gasp. “Oh my God, Linda. Look at the /scar/ on that guy over there. Ow.”

 

“Shut /up/, Ashley. We're like, sitting where they can hear us,” another female voice hissed.

 

“Yeah, but just...wow, you know? It's...look at him! Got a pretty face and everything, nice ass maybe, but I dunno. If I were dating him, I'd only be lookin' at that scar. God, it's awful.”

 

Heero glanced over to see where the girls were. He spotted them sitting at another table to his left, and it wasn't hard to figure out who Ashley was, since she was the only one out of the two who was pointing a long pink fingernail in Heero's direction, her lipsticked mouth in an incredulous O.

 

“Ashley! Stop it! He's looking at us,” Linda said, swatting the other girl's arm. “You're being /rude/. Man, I don't know how my brother stands you sometimes,” she grumbled.

 

Duo looked up from the menu, and cleared his throat loudly. “Is there anything I can help you two with?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

 

At that, Linda hurriedly waved both hands. “No! No! I'm sorry! My friend! She's just being really rude! I'm really sorry! Nothing at all!”

 

Duo smiled. “Okay, then.” Then, he turned to Heero. “Man, you look cold.”

 

Heero shook his head. “No, I'm fine.” That only elicited a raised eyebrow from Duo.

 

“You sure? Well, take this just in case.” He unwound his scarf and got up from the table. “It's a bit rough, but it'll keep you warm,” he said, carefully wrapping it around Heero's neck, making sure to cover his scar up. “Don't listen to them, all right? They don't know shit,” he muttered.

 

“When do you want it back?” Heero asked. The scarf felt rough, but not that bad, almost like worn burlap without the scratchiness. It smelled like Duo; all soap and deodorant and Duo's unique peppery scent.

 

Duo grinned. “Keep it. It's too small for me,” he said. When Heero raised his eyebrows skeptically, Duo said, “Well, that's what Father Maxwell said when he gave it to Sister Helen. Anyway, give it a wash. It's got my man stench all over it, but I never got a chance to wash it since I salvaged it from the church, y'know.” There was a flicker of something in his dark blue eyes before he straightened up, saying, “I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

 

As Heero watched his retreating figure, he raised the scarf—almost the same color as Duo's eyes, but duller—to his face thoughtfully. No, he didn't think he'd ever have a chance to wash it either.

 

******

 

Originally, Duo had decided to go out with Heero because he felt he owed him one. He didn't tell this to Heero, or to anyone else, because obviously, if he did, he'd get chewed out at the very least, and the rest was simply not worth the aggravation.

 

On the other hand, well, he /did/ owe Heero—if he couldn't give his voice back, at least there was some /other/ way he could make it up. Heero wouldn't like hearing that, of course—he'd think Duo was pitying him, aside from the whole thing making no sense whatsoever.

 

But they were currently about two or three weeks in to this going out thing, and while it was still early in the game for Duo to decide whether he really liked it or not, he'd learned quickly that while Heero was mute, he was, all things considered, still the Heero Yuy Duo had met during the war.

 

Once Duo had gotten that through his head, he'd eased in, relaxed, essentially just put up his feet and enjoyed the ride. It was actually a hell of a lot more convenient dating a friend than someone he barely knew—with the friend, all the initial icebreaker questions weren't necessary and they could get right down to business. Wasted a lot less time, Duo thought.

 

Even though it was March, the weather outside still wasn't all that terrific; if it wasn't rain, then it was snow or gray skies and mud. He didn't want to go out, and neither did Heero for that matter. After a few dates where they'd gone out, both of them opted to stay at either one's apartment with a DVD, pizza, or some other sort of takeout. The Indian restaurant down two blocks from Duo's apartment was a favorite.

 

Today was no exception, Duo thought. Everything would be peachy if his hands would just stop aching. He'd really overdone it on the Preventers paperwork in the last few days; trying to do all those forms on the computer because of messy handwriting wasn't good for him. The thought of a keyboard was enough to make him huddle into the fetal position, let alone seeing one.

 

He tried to concentrate on the movie; a comedy called /The Scottish Sex Tapes/ he'd picked out, since it was his turn this week. Unfortunately, despite the slapstick hilarity of seeing Robert Coleman in plaid lingerie, he still couldn't ignore his throbbing fingers.

 

“Ow,” he whimpered, wringing his hands. “Heero, pause the movie for a sec. I'm going to go cut my hands off.”

 

Heero paused the movie. “That's the fifth time you've been complaining about them tonight,” he said, the tip of his tongue making a soft click with the “t.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Duo grimaced. “They just /hurt/, y'know? I need some ice or something. Actually, I think I might be going somewhere with that cutting `em off idea...” He got up and started heading for the kitchen.

 

Heero snorted, flopping over on the couch to face Duo. “Don't be silly.” He reached out for one of Duo's hands. “Here, let me see.”

 

“What are you gonna do?” Duo asked, wary. Heero snorted again.

 

“Would you sit down and give me your hand already?” When Duo didn't move, Heero made an irritated noise, grabbed Duo by the wrist and tugged him back towards the couch.

 

“Hey, watch it!” Duo winced. “The wrists hurt too.” He sat back down on the couch while Heero eased himself up into a sitting position, taking Duo's hand in both of his, turning it palm upwards.

 

“'m pretty sure nothing's broken or anything, so it's not like we need to go to the doc—ooh. Oh, that feels good,” Duo said, as Heero kneaded his palm with his thumbs. “Don't stop. That feels terrific.”

 

Heero moved his thumbs below Duo's knuckles. “Next time, trust me, all right? How does that feel?”

 

Duo let out a small moan. “Mmmm. Yeah.” What Heero was doing felt really good, and he felt the pain in his hand slowly disappearing. “Where did you learn this? I didn't think you'd be the sort of guy to do hand massage stuff. More like what girls do and all.”

 

Taking the base of Duo's middle finger between his own thumb and index finger, Heero gently pressed it, moving down to the tip before going to the next finger. “Read it in the newspaper once. They said it was supposed to improve your health. I didn't believe that, but it felt good, so I kept doing it.”

 

Duo watched Heero finish massaging his fingers, turn his hand over and start on the back. “You're good,” he said. His hand wasn't back to normal, but at least the pain had gone to a level where he could ignore it and enjoy the night. As Heero moved down to his wrist, rotating his fingertips on the top in tiny circles, Duo wondered if he could somehow get more work to do on the computer, `cause this was really fucking /nice/.

 

“There.” Heero let go of Duo's wrist, putting it on his lap. “Let me get some drinks, and then I'll take care of your other hand.” He leaned over and kissed Duo on the cheek as he got up off the couch.

 

Duo settled back to wait. Even his other throbbing hand couldn't ruin the satisfaction he felt right now.

 

“You know, a guy could really get used to this,” he said to himself.