Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Catharsis ❯ Catharsis ( One-Shot )

title: Catharsis

part: 1/1

status: complete
date: October 2005

 

author: Thanatos-Aire
contact: death.in. a.box13 @ gmail.com

 

genre: Shin Kidou Senki Gundamu W (Gundam Wing)
rating: PG13
warnings: profanity

 

cast: 5115 friendship
notes: A thousand-word vignette. No, I'm not continuing it in chapters or sequels. Think what you like about what happened, I'm not writing anymore on this. (Except, solely, in the greatly doubtful event that my girlfriend promises wicked bedfun in return… ><)
blurb: You can blame Vicki for the cigarette inspiration and my girlfriend for the strange mannerisms inspiration.

 

trailer: vignette// Heero and Wufei on the back porch.
disclaimer: I don't own, claim to own, or make profit off of any canon elements

 

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Heero stormed into the kitchen, very nearly tripping over a chair that hadn't been scooted under the table all the way. Wufei immediately stepped back out of his path and let the enraged pilot pass. The back door was flung open and then slammed shut so hard that the dishes in the cupboard rattled.

 

Sighing, the Chinese boy timidly followed Heero outside to find him pacing back and forth on the enclosed porch, a hand at his hip and clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. The other olive-skinned hand was shaking, hovering around his ear with a newly-lit cigarette threaded between his fingers. Heero's lips were pursed into a firm, thin line, the white skin puckering around the pale lips. His eyes were shut firmly but he opened them to glare at Wufei with a cold blue gaze as the door was shut again

 

“What?” he snapped grouchily, turning his head out towards the back garden. Still pacing with heavy, impatient footsteps, Heero took a long drag from the Marlboro, holding the smoke in for a long moment before exhaling slowly.

 

Wufei shrugged casually, slipping up to the railing and crossing his arms on it. “You are angry.”

 

“Yeah, so? What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Heero turned on a toe to do an about-face as he reached the end of the porch.

 

The younger soldier shrugged nonchalantly again, as if it didn't even matter. “What happened?” he asked, not heeding Heero's own questions.

 

After a long pause of scuffed footsteps and another long drag on the cigarette, the blue-eyed Japanese replied, “He's driving me impossibly insane. I can't stand it! What the fuck has gotten into him lately? Dammit, I swear…” He brought shaky fingers up to his mouth again to shove the end of his Marlboro in the corner of his mouth before throwing himself down on the bench swing across the porch's width from where Wufei stood at the rail. “He's so… Fuck, I don't know, but I can't put up with it anymore.”

 

“Duo?” Wufei asked, turning to watch him with obsidian eyes. The sun was setting on the horizon behind the yard, casting a golden pink glow over the pair. Heero nodded, focusing on and fumbling with the cigarette in his hands, as if he wanted to stamp it out but couldn't bring himself to.

 

Instead, he smoothed his hands down his chest and thighs in an agitated manner, wiping his sweaty palms on the casual button-down and worn blue jeans. After a moment, he sighed, shoved the cig into his mouth, and grabbed the hem ends of his shirt to twist them about. “I don't know.” The cigarette bobbled in the corner of his lips but never threatened to fall, “I mean, I know he's strange, and annoying and idiotic, but lately he's just been too much. I mean, it's like he's trying to piss me off. Like he's mad at me for some reason.”

 

Wufei frowned, eying the plastic butane lighter sitting precariously on the rail. He sighed but said nothing about the habit he wished his friend would get over. “He has been a bit edgy the past few days… What do you think you did?”

 

Heero snapped his head up to glare at him, releasing his mangled shirt ends. “How the fuck should I know? For all I know, he's just taking it out on me when he's really pissed off at someone else. Maybe you.” He huffed, looking away angrily and sucking on his cigarette again. “What did I do,” he muttered with irritation, “Fuck, like he approves of anything I do.”

 

Wufei ran a hand over his hair and stepped up closer to him, slipping a hand into the pocket of his jeans. “Look, you know I had to ask. I didn't mean anything by it.” Heero just grunted, giving a jerk of a shrug as he inhaled the shortened Marlboro. He pursed his lips and let a steady stream of smoke wisp out to dissipate in the autumn air. Heero flicked at the end of the cigarette over the railing into some bushes, watching the ash disinterestedly.

 

“So what'd he do this time?”

 

Wufei's voice broke the silence abruptly, and even though he knew it had to be said, the younger ex-pilot wished it hadn't been so awkwardly loud. He unconsciously reached for the lighter, feeling the blue plastic warm in his hands as he rolled it, fumbled it around as he awaited his friend's response.

 

Heero shrugged. For a long moment, it seemed that that was the only thing he was going to do; the blue-eyed young man just continued to stare off into the back garden, fingers weaving the shortened cigarette between and betwixt themselves. Then he swallowed and made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

 

Wufei's hands stilled as he watched the emotion war on the face of Wing's partner. His own expression changed in sympathetic understanding when it became clear that the chocolate-haired teen was having trouble sorting through the events and corresponding feelings.

 

His teeth clicked as his jaw clenched shut, a breath exhaled heavily through his nose. Heero brought up a hand, fingers in a claw-like position, then made a fist, opened it again, and then made a strange pushing motion before nearly throwing his hand back down into his lap. The Japanese pilot shoved the end of his cigarette between his lips and sucked it practically to the filter in one drag. His jaw trembled as he flicked the Marlboro over the railing again.

 

“Fuck.” was all he said.

 

He threw himself up onto his feet and towards the rail across the porch. Wufei skid back a step to avoid crashing bodily and watching silently still as the older soldier nearly doubled over the rail with his momentum. Heero sighed and shook his head, then released his empty cigarette so that it could fall onto the grass below.

 

“Fuck,” he repeated quietly.

 

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owari