Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Contemplation Indigo ❯ Aspen Flint ( Chapter 28 )

 

Aspen Flint

 

(Chapter 28 of the Contemplation Indigo Series)

 

By DRL

 

 

 

“You okay Babe?” Duo's voice came distractedly from across the room. Despite his words the braided man's eyes did not stray from their current focus, not even to vouchsafe a glance at his interlocutor.

 

 

 

“Yes, I'm fine.” Heero replied, and he did turn and look across at his husband. Duo continued to dab at the canvas before him with a delicate paint brush, and gave a grunt of acknowledgement. Heero smiled and turned away.

 

 

 

It was Saturday. Heero had awoken to find the bed beside him empty and cold. Duo had woken in the small hours, overcome by a fit of creative zeal, and had made immediately for his studio. Heero, although disapproving, had not attempted to remonstrate with him. Such was the eccentricity of the artistic temperament, and Heero had learned, if not to accept it, then at least to tolerate it. Having implored Duo to be careful (they lived in the heart of the city and Heero considered anyone still abroad at such an hour to be up to no good and, therefore, not to be trusted), he rolled over and went back to sleep. He woke early, went for a long run, returned, breakfasted, then went shopping for groceries in the local market. Stopping at a deli to purchase a ham and cheese bagel and orange juice to serve as breakfast for Duo, he then made his way to the studio.

 

 

 

Duo's studio was located at the top of a large, converted factory building, situated on the South Bank of the river. Their apartment building was also on the banks of the river, but on the opposite side - the upmarket side. Property on this side of the river was amongst the most valuable in the City, but the south side had yet to catch up. It was well on the way though, and investment and development in this area was burgeoning. Heero, of all people, had gotten in on the ground floor, and was set to realise a fortune, thanks to Quatre and his business acumen.

 

 

 

When the couple had first purchased their waterfront apartment, Duo went in search of a studio - conveniently located - where he could continue his work. They visited one such place with Quatre in tow, since Trowa was away on business for a day or so and the couple had been deputed to keep the blond out of mischief until his husband returned. The unit on offer was at the top of a disused factory building. Only the top floor was in use at the time, and the rest of the building was virtually condemned. The top floor had been used as a workshop where special effects for movies were devised and produced, and this floor at least was in reasonably good repair. The couple were immediately divided - Duo loved the place, and Heero hated it! Duo loved the large, floor-to-ceiling windows that flooded the space with natural light on all four sides and Heero hated the idea of his husband working in a derelict building. While Duo wandered around inspecting his new studio (for he had set his heart on the place), Quatre discreetly drew Heero aside.

 

 

 

“Er, Heero,” He said hesitantly, “I think you might be missing out on an opportunity here.”

 

 

 

He then went on to explain that in its present condition, the building as a whole could be purchased for a relatively small sum. His idea was that, rather than renting just the one floor, Heero could purchase the whole building with a view to renovation. After redevelopment, the building itself would then be worth several times the purchase price, taking into account the rising status of the area in general, not to mention the value of the rents from the converted units. After further lengthy discussions and extremely careful consideration (Heero was a cautious investor), he followed Quatre's advice and from that day he never looked back. The grade II listed building [1] was sympathetically restored and renovated, part of the building having been converted for residential use and part given over to artists studios and artisans workshops. Heero retained the freehold and the rents from the property augmented the Maxwell-Yuy coffers quite nicely.

 

 

 

The whole of the top floor was retained for Duo's studio, and the space was extremely pleasant. The windows that had captured the braided man's heart still remained, and the light from them gave the space a wonderfully bright, cheery ambiance. Duo found the light perfect for his work, and even at night he found the view out across the lighted City and along the river inspiring. As Heero now looked out at this same view, he smiled as he recalled that Duo had selected their apartment using the exact same criteria. The main living area of the apartment had an aspect which gave unparalleled views of the city and the river, much the same as the studio, although from the opposite bank, and Duo had been immediately taken by this at that time too.

 

 

 

Although they retained an agent to maintain and manage the building, Heero liked to keep an eye on his investment and he visited the studio from time to time, ostensibly to take a look at what his husband was up to, but really to survey his property. On his way up to the penthouse studio he had taken a look around to check that the building was being well-maintained and that the managing agents were earning their fee. Reassured as to this, he then continued up to the studio. The original goods lift used to carry goods between the six floors of the factory was restored, and this vast lift was now used by the building's tenants, although Heero was frustrated by its slow, lumbering, mechanical rather than electronic operation. Duo would always call him a Philistine when he complained about this, and Heero had to admit that he probably was. The building had won awards for its sympathetic restoration and conversion from commercial to domestic use, while maintaining its original, historic appearance and for this Heero had Duo to thank. While his husband had achieved artistic success with his contemporary, abstract style, Duo was quite the traditionalist at heart and it was at his insistence that the building retained all of its original architectural features (such as the lift and the glorious windows). Even the name remained, and the building was called `The Candle Factory' in homage to its previous designation.

 

 

 

 

Heero turned away from the window and continued his wanderings around the room, pausing every now and then to look through the piles of finished, in-progress and abandoned canvasses that littered the room, frowning with perplexed incomprehension at some of the more abstruse examples. The world of fine art was an alien one to Heero, for all that he was married to a successful artist, and while he did encourage and support Duo in his work, he was one of the `I don't know anything about art, but I know what I like' brigade. His artistic tastes were simple, and Duo's complex abstract themes were too rich for his blood. Just looking at them left him dazed and confused, and when Duo attempted to explain the philosophy behind them, his head began positively to ache. He was content to appreciate them for their pretty colours, and beyond that he dared not venture. Duo's sculpture had the same effect on Heero, although he was on much safer ground with Duo's portraiture, since this was susceptible of one interpretation only.

 

 

 

 

Heero had been up to the studio countless times in the five or so years that Duo had been using it, but every time he visited something different seemed to capture his interest. This time his eyes alighted on a stack of what he assumed must be canvasses, but which were covered by a paint-spattered sheet. He couldn't recall having seen this covered pile before, and his curiosity was piqued. Canvasses were stacked all around the room, but none were covered, as this stack was. He carefully removed the sheet to expose the pile, and immediately raised an eyebrow.

 

 

 

 

Unlike the majority of the other canvasses stacked up against the studio walls, these were stacked with their painted faces towards the wall, and all Heero was presented with was the reverse of the canvasses, revealing their wooden stretchers. He seized the first painting in the pile and turned it round to face him. It was not at all what he expected, and he gave a gasp of surprise. Instead of Duo's usual varicoloured abstract rendering, this was an extremely realistic portrait… of Heero himself. It was an intensely personal study, with Heero half-turned away from the viewer. He seemed to be deep in thought. It was only a head and shoulders view, and the background was a mere wash of ochre, but Heero's face was painted so finely that he might have been cut from a photograph and stuck on to the canvas.

 

 

 

Heero recognised this style. As well as his abstract paintings and conceptual sculpture, Duo also painted portraits, and his style was this ultra-realistic, almost photographic rendition. Duo's portraiture fame was quite widespread, and he had been commissioned to paint portraits of some quite influential people, including crowned heads. He had also painted Quatre, Trowa, Treize and Wufei. It had never occurred to Heero to wonder why he had never been asked to sit for his husband. The matter had just never crossed his mind. Now, as he looked at his own face rendered in oil on canvas by his husband, it suddenly dawned on him how strange it was that he had never thought of it before. He stood the painting to one side and turned the next canvas round to face him. Again, it was a portrait of Heero himself. This time he was smiling at the viewer. Not a broad smile, but a small, enigmatic smile that revealed little but promised much - one that he used whenever he wanted to entice Duo into bed and one that usually met with unparalleled success since the braided man never needed too much persuasion. Again the background of the portrait was sketchily painted, in stark contrast with the precision of the foreground figure. Heero looked at his own image smiling back at him, and wondered whether his eyes were really that blue. They never seemed so to him, but he supposed that Duo knew best. The next picture was merely a monochrome sketch, once again, of Heero himself. This time he was seated, and appeared to be looking down at something out of view, perhaps reading a book or a newspaper. Duo had used a looser style this time, perfectly suited to the absence of colour.

 

 

 

 

As Heero turned over canvas after canvas, he was met with his own face time after time. Duo had indeed painted Heero's portrait, despite the fact that Heero had never sat for him. He had painted him many, many times, and appeared to have covered every one of Heero's moods. He had even painted a few nudes, which had brought a self-conscious flush to Heero's cheeks, since in Duo's renditions Heero's image was far better endowed than Heero modestly recalled from life. Perhaps, he thought as he called to mind the blue of his eyes from the earlier picture, his husband was apt to apply his artistic license over-freely.

 

 

 

 

Heero smiled as he leafed through the canvasses, one after another depicting differing aspects of him, his mein and his personality. Heero had often remarked on Duo's ability to capture his subject's character in his portraits. Indeed this, as well as the accuracy of his rendition, was the key to his considerable success. For good or ill, Duo told it as it was, and the people couldn't get enough of it. Disconcertingly, Heero found himself portrayed warts and all. He knew that there were times when he was deliberately harsh with Duo, for no other reason than because he was in a bad mood himself. In one of the paintings Duo had him facing the viewer, his face filling the canvas. His eyes were wide, staring and wild; his lips were pursed and drawn tightly into a thin line. His hands were elevated, one on either side of his head, with his clawed fingers thrust deep into his hair, apparently tearing at it. Frankly, he looked little short of deranged.

 

 

 

 

Heero's initial reaction on turning up this disturbing picture was shock, which immediately gave way to indignation. How dare Duo - he didn't look like that at all! However, after a moment's sincere reflection, this was soon superseded by shameful resignation. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he probably did look exactly like that sometimes. He certainly felt like it from time to time and on these occasions, he grudgingly admitted, Duo possibly did come in for something of a hard time. At such times this was clearly how his husband saw him, and Heero was suitably chastened. After this he looked at the pictures with a more analytical eye, and subsequently he learned quite a lot about himself and Duo's vision of him.

 

 

 

 

Suddenly he turned over a canvas and immediately his senses were sent reeling by the whirling vortex of shapes and colours painted upon it. The palette used was dark and dreary - dull greys, muddy browns and torpid greens. The paint was applied to the canvas thickly and a knife or some such instrument had clearly been dragged through the paint, leaving behind deep, harsh tracks. The impression was one of confused frenzy, and again, Heero was shocked. Quite what this meant he was at a loss to fathom, since this disquieting image was amongst the other, rather more pleasant, portraits of him. There were several of these unsettling paintings, then as abruptly as they began, they stopped and the subject matter reverted to the more standard fare - specifically a painting of Heero lying recumbent on a bed - nude. This was more like Duo, he though, and a smile tugged at his lips.

 

 

 

 

“Oh shit!”

 

 

 

 

Heero half-heard the expletive on the periphery of his consciousness, but suddenly Duo was at his back. Heero looked round and caught the look of alarm in his husband's eyes.

 

 

 

 

“Er, you okay there?” The braided man asked for the second time that morning, this time with apprehension. His glance shifted from Heero to the nude painting, then back to Heero again as he chewed his lower lip. Heero forbore to reply. He, in his turn, glanced from the painting to Duo and back again, his expression neutral. Duo, detecting no anger from his husband, relaxed and squatted down beside him, his arm draped fondly across Heero's shoulders, and they both contemplated the picture. “Whaddya think?” He asked. Heero cocked his head contemplatively as he regarded the picture then he gave a mild chuckle.

 

 

 

 

“I think I'm not quite as… big as that.”

 

 

 

 

“Oh you're every bit as big as that.” Duo said with a lascivious smirk. “You er, you weren't actually supposed to see these.” He added, lowering his voice a little. He removed his arm from Heero's shoulders and settled himself cross-legged upon the floor. Heero turned back to the stack of pictures and began to look through them once more.

 

 

 

 

“Why not?” He asked, throwing Duo a glance over his shoulder.

 

 

 

 

“I dunno,” Duo replied with a shrug, “They're kinda private.”

 

 

 

 

“I'll say.” Heero replied wryly, as he turned up another nude. A thought suddenly struck him and he shot Duo a dark look. “Has anyone else seen these?” He asked.

 

 

 

 

“No, well…” Duo replied uncertainly. Heero's eyes narrowed ominously and Duo shook his head vigorously. “No, no-one's seen them but me… and now you.” He added. Heero gave a satisfied grunt, and turned back to the pictures.

 

 

 

 

“Where have you been hiding these?” He asked. “How come I have never noticed them here before?”

 

 

 

 

“I haven't been hiding them,” The braided man protested, "They've been here all the time. They've been out the back.” He flicked his head by way of indicating an area of the large, open-plan space that was partitioned off by stud walling. In this `room' Duo customarily stretched his canvasses, mixed his pigments and cleaned his brushes. Heero nodded. The paintings could indeed have been in this utility area and Heero would never have noticed them since not often did he probe the mysteries of whatever went on in there. Heero finally left the stack of paintings and turned to Duo, sitting back on his heels.

 

 

 

“How come you brought them out?” He asked. Duo made a nonchalant moue before replying.

 

 

 

"Pip had this idea for a show the other day and we were talking about it. I thought that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea and I was just checking whether I had enough work."

 

 

 

Heero's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Pip Gardener, Duo's agent, worked tirelessly to promote and market the braided man and his work, and generally speaking Heero wholeheartedly approved. Heero was very much aware that Duo owed his success in no small part to Pip and her efforts, but there were limits. He shook his head decisively.

 

 

 

"No! Absolutely not.“ He said darkly. “If you and Pip think that I'm going to stand idly by while the two of you hang pictures of my naked body... what? “ Duo had suddenly begun to laugh uproariously.

 

 

 

“Not a nudes show,” He said when he was once more master of himself and his laughter had died to a light chuckle, “A portraiture show. Pip wants to do a show featuring my portraits. I was just looking through these for the portraits, not the nudes, silly.”

 

 

 

“Hnnn.” Heero grunted. With anyone else he would have felt the embarrassment of such a foolish mistake, but Duo knew the best and the worst of him and with the braided man he felt no shame. “Well do you,” He asked, “Have enough work?” He added. Duo glanced vaguely around the studio.

 

 

 

“Yeah, I guess,” He said, “If I get some back on loan.”

 

 

 

Heero thought of some of the highly publicised portraits of high-profile public figures and celebrities of the day that Duo had painted. If he managed to secure some of these back on short-term loan, they would indeed form the basis of major exhibition. He nodded slowly.

 

 

 

“I think it's a very good idea.” He said. “It should make an interesting exhibition.”

 

 

 

Duo grinned appreciatively, but it went unseen by Heero. He had gone back to the painting stack and was looking purposefully through the canvasses. He stopped and lifted one of the paintings from the stack, turning its face to Duo. It was one of the abstract paintings that he had come across amongst the other pictures of himself - the ones he had found so disturbing.

 

 

 

“Duo, what's this?” He asked. Duo looked at the painting and paled visibly.

 

 

 

“It's nothing babe, just put it down.” He said with studied nonchalance. He stood briskly and turned his back to Heero as he crossed to where Heero had deposited the paper bags containing the breakfast he had brought. Heero frowned.

 

 

 

“But there are quite a few of them here,” Heero continued, “And why are they among my pictures?” Duo did not reply. He unwrapped the enormous bagel filled with ham and Swiss cheese, and took a large bite.

 

 

 

“Duo…” Heero followed his husband across the room and came to stand in front of him, forcing eye contact. “Duo, what are these pictures?” He insisted. “Why won't you tell me?”

 

 

 

 

Duo sighed resignedly and put down the bagel. He chewed and swallowed his mouthful and wiped his hands on the seat of his jeans before turning to Heero with a serious expression.

 

 

 

“Since you insist, I'll tell you,” He said, “But you're gonna wish you'd never asked.” He looked towards the canvas stack. “How do you feel when you look at those pictures?” He asked. With a growing sense of foreboding Heero looked through the canvases once more. He looked intently at them one at a time, leafing through them slowly. Then he half-turned towards his husband, his eyes strangely reluctant to leave the turbulent images rendered so indelibly on the canvas.

 

 

 

“Well,” Heero began uncertainly, giving a self-conscious little laugh “This is going to sound silly, and remember, I'm a real philistine when it comes to art, but…” He hesitated, looking back to the pictures, “They make me feel… how I can put it… suicidal.”

 

 

 

Duo's unsmiling eyes met Heero's, then he turned away, walked slowly across the room and sank heavily down onto an incongruously baroque, velvet-upholstered gilt chaise longue, a prop he occasionally used for his portrait painting. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked down at the paint-stained, hardwood floor. Unbidden, memories forced their way to the forefront of his mind, and he made no attempt to push them back…

 

 

 

He continued to apply the paint to the canvas with wild, frenzied strokes, wielding the palette knife as though it were a rapier. The result was a confusing mass of varicoloured vortices, in a dull, dreary palette of blacks, greys, olive greens and dun browns. He stopped suddenly, his brush in mid-swipe as the unshed tears that filled his eyes blurred his vision, preventing him from continuing. He allowed the arm that held the brush to drop to his side and his head fell forward, his chin resting on his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut against the memories that flooded his mind, and large teardrops splashed onto the floor. He drew a deep breath which developed into a hitching sob, then his face crumpled as the tears began to fall freely and he wept openly.

 

 

Duo heard the door open and close, and although he felt the presence at his elbow, he gave no acknowledgement, nor did he resist as the brush was removed from his fragile grasp. He felt strong arms enfold him and his face was gently pressed against a broad chest.

 

 

 

“Oh Duo…”

 

 

 

The voice was deep and melodious, and the fingers that stroked Duo's hair were light and gentle. Duo wept with abandon, allowing the deep despair he felt to flow out of him with his tears.

 

 

 

Treize held Duo in a comforting embrace as he wept, and when his tears had subsided, with a steadying arm about his shoulders, he led the braided man from the room.

 

 

 

“Yeah,” Duo agreed dryly, “Suicidal. That was about right.” He looked up at Heero. “Remember last year when… when we split up for a while?” Heero nodded slowly. He was never likely to forget the few months when the thought he had lost the love of his life forever. “Well I painted them back then, when I was in France, with Treize and Wufei babysitting me. I was in a pretty bad way and I guess I was just doodling on the canvas as a way of expressing my feelings.” Duo jerked a thumb towards the stack of paintings. “Those were what came out.” Duo cocked his head and gave him a challenging look. “When you found my ring for me and we got back together, we never really discussed the matter, did we?”

 

 

 

Heero moistened his lips nervously before shaking his head.

 

 

 

“No.” He said, lowering his eyes guiltily. “I was too glad to have you back and I didn't want to rock the boat by bringing up old wounds.”

 

 

 

“Yeah,” Duo nodded, “I guessed as much, and I'm as bad as you because I let you off the hook.” He smiled wryly. “I didn't mention it myself because I didn't want to rock the boat either. You brought my ring back and proved your love for me,” Duo absently stroked light fingers over the gold band that adorned his left hand, “And that was all I needed to know at the time. Later there just didn't seem any point in bringing it up. Anyway,” He continued with a dismissive shrug, “It's just emotional shit, and I know you don't do emotions so...”

 

 

“No Duo,” Heero cut him off, “That's hardly fair. I was a fool back then and I hurt you very deeply. To this day, and to my great shame, I had no real idea how deeply - that is, until I saw those paintings just now.” Heero cast a pained, sideways glance at the stack of paintings, then crossed the floor to the chaise longue. He perched beside his husband and half-turned so that their eyes met. “They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and that was certainly true of these.” He jerked his head towards the canvasses. “But I owe it to you to hear the words,” He continued, “From the horses mouth, as it were. It was wrong of me to just accept your forgiveness and say nothing - not even sorry.” He added quietly. “Tell me,” Heero said, “I need to hear.”

 

 

 

 

Duo sat staring out at the garden, but he saw nothing of it's beauty. Once again he felt sick to his stomach, although he had no more than picked at his breakfast. This was the norm by now, and he was used to it. He felt sick, so he didn't eat - he didn't eat, so he felt sick. He knew that he was losing weight steadily and that this was distressing his hosts greatly. None of the clothes he had arrived with fitted him any longer, and he was now wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt belonging to Wufei which, now he thought about it, fitted him worryingly well. Surely he was not now as small as Wufei? He began to smile wryly. Heero would never believe it. A dark curtain came crashing down on his thoughts, dashing the semi-smile from his lips. But then Heero would never know, would he? His eyes flooded with tears and he squeezed them shut against the flood. A few slipped through and the hot beads rolled down his cheeks. He drew a deep breath and a hitching sound - half hiccup, half sob - escaped him involuntarily.

 

 

 

 

“Duo…?” The staccato clickety-click of fingers striking a keyboard halted immediately and Wufei looked over at his hapless guest. “Are you okay?”

 

 

 

 

He rose from his chair, his brow creased with concern, but as he did so the study door opened and Treize entered the room. His eyes panned swiftly from one to the other of them, and he took in the situation at a glance.

 

 

 

 

“I thought Duo might like to join me for a walk,” Treize said affably, “So I'll be depriving you of your companion for a little while, my pet.” He turned to Duo, who had twisted in his seat to face the newcomer. “Duo?” He shot the braided man an enquiring look.

 

 

 

Duo was well aware of the dynamics at play here, despite his depressed state. Wufei was working against a tight deadline, attempting to finish the manuscript of a book he was working on. He and Treize had immediately stepped in and offered their assistance and hospitality in Duo's time of trouble, but the timing was far from convenient. Wufei needed to channel all his energies into perfecting and completing his manuscript, not nursing a friend through his marital difficulties. Treize had assumed the brunt of the burden of dealing with Duo, allowing Wufei to concentrate on his work. He had posed the request as a question, but there was really no refusing him. Treize Khushrenada was a man well versed in getting his own way.

 

 

 

Duo actually had no desire to refuse. He actually had no desire to do anything - except perhaps to lie down and die. In fact, he rather enjoyed his walks with Trieze, since this little scenario had indeed been a regular performance for a number of weeks now. He would pick at his breakfast, then retire with Wufei to his study, while Trieze went off to his own (the two of them kept separate studies, and they each attributed the success of their marriage to this one single factor). Wufei and Duo would sit together in Wufei's study, sometimes both of them on the sofa that Duo now occupied, occasionally chatting desultorily, but mostly just sitting in companionable silence. On other occasions, such as today, Wufei would sit at his desk, pounding away at his computer as a moment of inspiration seized him, and Duo would remain on the sofa, staring out at the garden through the open French windows. Midway through the morning, after he had attended to his own business affairs with Jarvis, his private secretary, Treize would present himself at the door of Wufei's study and assume the responsibility for `Duo-watch' for the rest of the day. This way Duo was not vouchsafed the opportunity to harm himself, which he suspected was the reason for his friends' virtually round-the-clock vigilance, and Wufei was allowed the freedom he needed to complete his work. Duo was beyond feeling burdensome to his friends, however. He was beyond feeling anything. He rose and took Treize's outstretched hand. Treize smiled encouragingly at him.

 

 

 

 

“We'll be back for lunch, Sweet.” Treize threw out over his shoulder, before leading Duo out and closing the door.

 

 

 

 

Another regular scenario was the one that unfolded as the morning wore on. Treize took Duo on a leisurely walk along the lanes around the 18th Century chateau where he and Wufei lived. An old Khushrenada property, the chateau was the couple's main residence, and the surrounding land for hundreds of acres comprised the Khushrenada estate. Treize was truly master of all he surveyed. He took Duo along various different routes, but invariably they ended up seated beneath the shade of a large tree, Duo weeping copious tears onto Treize's shoulder.

 

 

 

 

Heero tightened his arm around Duo as he felt his husband shudder. They were now lying outstretched on the chaise longue, Heero with his back against the arm of the chaise, and Duo between his parted legs, his back against Heero's chest, his head lolling against Heero's shoulder. Heero held Duo close against him with one arm, and the fingers of his other hand were interlaced with Duo's as they rested on the braided man's stomach. Heero hadn't uttered a word for over an hour. He merely listened as Duo finally bared his soul, recounting what he had often described as the worst few months of his life.

 

 

 

 

“Treize and Wufei were great.” Duo said. “I'd even go as far as to say that the two of them saved my life - especially Treize. If it wasn't for him I think I would have ended it.” Heero stiffened in alarm, but he remained silent.

 

 

 

 

“…but how can you say that?” Duo asked through his tears. “Heero doesn't love me. How could he have done that to me if he loved me?” Treize held Duo closed as he sobbed. He didn't respond, and eventually the other man continued. “He's been mean to me in the past, but that's just his way. Well I thought it was just his way. Perhaps he never really loved me at all. Perhaps he never really did, and the mean times were when he just couldn't hide it any more. Oh I don't know…” Duo beat a clenched fist against Treize's chest in frustration. “It just doesn't make any sense. He must have loved me once; I can't have been wrong about that, can I?” He looked up at the older man, a desperate hope in his red-rimmed eyes.

 

 

 

 

“No Duo,” Treize replied quietly, “You can't have been wrong about that”

 

 

 

 

The braided man buried his head in Treize's chest and wept desperately. Treize held him until the wave of emotion passed.

 

 

 

 

“I just want to die.” Duo said eventually. “I don't want to live any more if I don't have Heero's love. Do you know Treize,” He continued with a sniff, “I met Heero when I was 15 years old, and I've known him for 15 years. I've known him half my life. I lived on the streets and I never had jack-shit before I fell in love with Heero.” Duo lowered his voice. “And I don't have jack-shit without him. I tell you Treize,” The braided man said earnestly, “I would rather die than live without Heero.”

 

 

 

Treize did not reply. He merely held Duo in an embrace which he hoped was comforting, but he doubted it. His were not the arms that would bring Duo the comfort he so desperately craved. Later, as they sat side by side under the shade of a giant oak, their backs against its gnarled bole, Duo spoke again about his husband.

 

 

 

“We fought so much, Heero & I did,” He said, his voice hoarse from weeping, “But it wasn't anything.” He gave a short bark of laughter, which carried little mirth. “There were times when we'd scream so much at each other that we only stopped because our throats ached. Then we'd look at each other and just start laughing because neither of us could remember what the argument had been about in the first place.” He smiled - a slight expression, but genuine for all that. “Then we'd fall into bed and have sex, and that would be that.” He chuckled again at the pleasant memory. Looking out across the picturesque, pastoral landscape, his eyes softened and he continued in a wistful tone.

 

 

 

 

“I remember he was so mad at me once that he grabbed hold of my upper arms, shook me and said, `God damn it Duo, you really drive me mad!' Then his face broke into a beautiful smile and he added, `but I can't imagine being with anyone else.' Then he took me in his arms and kissed me. He was practically in tears the next day because his fingers had left bruises on my arms and he was so sorry about it. It didn't matter though - it's not like he hurt me or anything.

 

 

 

 

“You know yourself - you guys are always laughing at us because we're always fighting, but it's not really fighting. Heero and I don't mean anything by it. Yeah, he gets on my nerves too sometimes, and at other times he really drives me crazy, but it's nothing…” Duo tailed off. “Well Ialways thought it was nothing.” His head snapped sharply round to face Treize. “What if Heero didn't? What if he really took it all to heart and eventually he grew to hate me? What if that's why he did it?”

 

 

 

Duo's violet eyes were wide, his horror at his own conclusion deeply inscribed on his visage. A profound sympathy for the younger man welled up in side Treize and he longed desperately to give him even a modicum of reassurance.

 

 

 

 

“If there is one thing I know for sure,” He said sincerely, “It's that Heero doesn't hate you. Sadly, things have obviously broken down between you lately, but he definitely doesn't hate you.”

 

 

 

 

“But how do you know that?” Duo asked plaintively, hope stirring in his eyes despite the negative import of his words.

 

 

 

 

“Quite simply.” Treize replied. “Heero annoy you, you say - yes?” Duo nodded. “And you annoy him?”

 

 

 

 

“Yeah, but…” Duo began, but Treize quelled him with a raised hand.

 

 

 

 

“And when he gets irritated with you, how does he react? Does it aggrieve him at all?” Duo laughed mirthlessly.

 

 

 

“Yeah, I guess so.” He replied. “He sure bawls me out about it, so yeah, I guess you could say it `aggrieves' him.” Duo stressed the somewhat pompous term. Treize gave a rich chuckle.

 

 

 

“That's not quite what I meant.” He said. “When he gets so irritated with you that he shouts at you, what does he do after that?” Duo frowned as he gave the question a moment or two's serious thought, clearly confused by the direction of the conversation. His mouth twisted into a wry smile as he eventually replied.

 

 

 

“Well, if he hasn't gone around to the Winners bellyaching to Trowa about what a pain in the ass I am, he sulks around the apartment for a bit, then he comes to find me and we make up. You know what happens after that.” Treize nodded with a smile.

 

 

 

 

“Yes, I think I have a pretty shrewd idea.” He said. “Does that happen every time? He gets angry with you, then he comes looking for you to make up?”

 

 

 

 

“Pretty much.” Duo nodded.

 

 

 

 

“Why?” Treize asked flatly. Duo's reply was immediate.

 

 

 

“Oh Heero really hates me to be upset.” He said categorically. “When other people upset me he's ready to kill `em, and when he upsets me himself, it really bothers him. He broods for a while, but he will always come to me to make it up, whether he was wrong or whether he was right. He doesn't often apologise,” Duo added wryly, “But he makes it known that things are cool between us and he isn't really angry with me.”

 

 

 

“Well there you go!” Treize said, spreading his hands in an expansive gesture. “Your arguments obviously play on his conscience, and trust me Duo, you can only ever burrow under someone's skin to such an extent if they love you. If Heero hated you - or even if he were only indifferent to you - he would be unmoved by your pain. He would crave it even, but that is not the case, is it?”

 

 

 

 

“Those words saved my life.” Duo said. “It sounds really dumb now, because I guess it should have been obvious to me, but I was so convinced that I had lost your love that I my brain went into complete meltdown, and I just couldn't see it. Anyway, it took Treize to point it out to me and from that day I stopped contemplating suicide, dried my tears, started eating, and by the time you brought my ring back to me, I was pretty much my usual self.”

 

 

 

“Well, I wouldn't go quite that far.” Heero said dryly and was rewarded with a sharp elbow in the ribs from his husband. “So, I have Treize Khushrenada to thank for your being here today.” He said, and after a short pause he added, “Does my love mean that much to you?”

 

 

 

 

“What, more than my own life?” Duo asked. “You bet it does. I told Treize that I didn't have jack shit without you, and that was no word of a lie.” Heero nodded. He knew that his husband never lied. He placed a light kiss on Duo's temple.

 

 

 

 

“I love you Duo.” He said earnestly. “Never, ever doubt it.”

 

 

 

 

“I love you too babe,” Duo replied. He smiled mischievously and circled his hips sensuously as he reclined between Heero's legs, so that his buttocks grated against the Japanese man's groin. “It's time for the sex now, right?” He asked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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