Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Estranged Lovers ❯ The Space In My Soul ( Chapter 2 )

Title: The Space In My Soul
Author: Mookie
Pairing: 2x1
Rating: R
Warnings: yaoi, implied lemon, implied lime, language, mild angst

Heero swallowed nervously as Duo closed the distance between them.

"Heero," he said, their breaths mingling. "You'd better tell me if this isn't what you want."

Their noses collided, and Heero looked into Duo's eyes, murmuring his name before putting his hands to the side of Duo's face and tilting his head to the right.

He kept his eyes open until he saw Duo's close. His nostrils filled with Duo's scent. His lips, wet with shared saliva, seemed more sensitive, and his tongue was consumed with the taste of Duo's mouth on his.

They were insane to attempt this.

He'd been called crazy before. By Duo, in fact, on more than one occasion.

"Duo," he whispered. He didn't think he could have explained what he wanted even if he'd known.

It was as if it were their first time, although it was far from it. He'd initiated their first kiss, after a heart-clenching demolition effort. He could still remember the cold fear he'd felt when the satellite toppled, even though there was nothing in its path but a field of wildflowers.

When he'd managed to regain control of his breathing, he reached for the nearest anchor.

Duo.

It hadn't been enough, kissing Duo. He'd needed more.

They'd returned to the dorms, and Heero had been unable to stop touching Duo, seeking more of that sense of belonging.

He feared the emptiness, and the only thing he could think of to combat it was to be filled.

With Duo.

Duo had been more than happy to oblige.

This kiss, like the ones they'd shared their first night together, frightened Heero on some level, but he determinedly gave Duo agreement to the implied question.

He couldn't understand how Duo could question if it was what he wanted. Hadn't he made that clear when he'd accepted all of Duo?

Duo may have been the one to make the first move this time, but it was Heero who steered them toward the bed.

Shortly after that, it was only a matter of time for a precedent to be set. Heero was relieved that he'd found something to turn to, to provide a temporary salve to his fears. Every time Duo fucked him, Heero strove to achieve the release that would fill him. He hoped that some of Duo's optimism might somehow transfer through the sharing of bodily fluids.

His only regret was that he had no way of retaining Duo's essence. At least when he went down on Duo, he could swallow it, and it would make its way to his stomach, and it made him feel a bit better, carrying some of Duo with him in that way. It was the only thing he'd ever been tempted to hoard for himself.

When the war ended, he'd left to gather his thoughts. He had formed a dependency on Duo of sorts, and that could not be tolerated. It was unhealthy, and he couldn't bear the thought that he might be using Duo.

He'd meant to go back, had meant to attempt some semblance of a normal relationship, but he'd only managed to keep rehearsing in his head all the things he wanted to say and could not.

Then he'd heard about Relena's kidnapping, and hadn't thought twice about going to Duo. He'd known Duo would focus on the task at hand first and any unresolved issues between them second.

Duo was the one who'd left after that, and Heero had given him some time before following him.

They'd moved in together and christened their apartment with a frenzy of hands and mouths and bodies.

Heero had what he needed once again, and with Duo as his roommate, the emptiness could be filled often, and it was, assuring Heero that it was good for Duo, too.

He'd never really considered the effect it was having on the man he considered his lover.

~~~~~

"Heero?"

Quatre's voice pulled him from his musing and he attempted a smile in the blond's direction.

It didn't fool Quatre one bit. "Do you need to lie down, Heero?"

Heero was being given an out, but he was reluctant to take it. His approach to failure was to own up to it. He just wished he knew how.

"I'd rather not," he replied, lightly touching the steri-strips on his scalp.

Quatre nodded, then headed for the small kitchenette without a word. He came back with a sandwich and a glass of water, set them on the small crate serving as a coffee table, and then went back to retrieve his own.

They ate in silence for a while, but Heero knew it would only be a matter of time.

He was right.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Silence was the only answer Quatre received, and he changed tactics.

"Did you know Trowa played the flute?"

Of all the questions he could have been asked, Heero would never have picked that one as the most likely.

"No, I didn't."

Quatre looked at him speculatively. Heero had sounded almost wistful.

"What about you, Heero? Ever learn to play an instrument?"

"No," he said, then added, "dance."

"Dance?" It was Quatre's turn to look surprised.

Heero shrugged. "J thought it was a good way to develop reflexes and coordination."

"It makes sense," Quatre nodded. "I think playing an instrument is a lot like piloting a mobile suit." He paused, then added, "I think Trowa is very good with his hands. I'm not surprised he was a mechanic."

"There are a good number of skills that lend themselves well to other pursuits," Heero agreed. Being able to kill someone in a number of ways didn't seem like one of them, but he kept silent on that count.

"I can definitely see a connection between dance and certain forms of combat," Quatre mused. "Including the Gundams. Heavyarms..." he paused, then seemed to change his mind. "You know, usually people liken dancing to quite another activity."

Heero's brows drew together slightly in question, but Quatre did not pursue that line of thought either.

Despite himself, he asked. "Because one person leads?"

Quatre laughed. "Only if his partner allows him to."

They finished their sandwiches and Quatre carried the plates to the kitchen, stacking them in the sink.

"I'm going to call you later," he warned.

"I know. Thank you."

Just before Quatre left, he gestured to Heero's bald spot. "Time heals all wounds, Heero."

Before Heero could disagree, Quatre was gone.

~~~~~

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Heero was tempted to sigh in frustration. It was only the second time Quatre had asked, but he'd thought he'd made the answer very clear the previous day.

If nothing else, Duo had told him a few times that he was rather literal in his interpretation. He supposed it was true. It was a good defense mechanism at times, not that he always meant it to be.

He did this time, however.

"No," he said, looking straight into Quatre's eyes.

"Your vision is clear? No clouding or blurring? No spots before your eyes?"

"I can see just fine," he said, realizing the trap a second too late.

"So can I, Heero." There was no censure in his tone, not that Heero had expected it from Quatre. It sometimes seemed the only person Quatre was capable of blaming for anything was himself.

"He didn't want me anymore," Heero blurted out.

Quatre said nothing, just waited patiently for Heero to continue.

"I knew things weren't going well. I tried to fix them, and I failed. I guess I wanted to lead, and he went along with me, because he lo-" Heero paused. "Because he knew it was important to me."

"Heero," Quatre said gently. "I think you both have a bit of a martyr complex."

"No," Heero shook his head. "I should have been able to read between the lines."

Quatre sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Do you want to know what I see, or do you want me to butt out and just let you vent your spleen?"

"I don't know."

"OK," Quatre agreed. "How about I tell you what I see, and if it looks like you're not happy with what I have to say, I'll stop?"

"That'll be the day you put the kid gloves on," Heero said, unable to stop a smile from forming. "And the day I need to be handled with them is the day I stop trying." The last word felt odd on his tongue.

"There's nothing wrong with 'trying,' Heero. Not everyone succeeds the first time, or even the twentieth. I almost killed Trowa. I don't think there's much more you can do to wreck a burgeoning friendship." Quatre's expression was pained, and Heero felt a stab of remorse. He'd not exactly been sympathetic at the time.

"I think that it's OK to want something so much you aren't sure what to do once you have it," Quatre continued. "It's OK to make mistakes, as long as you're able to own up to them and move forward instead of dwelling on them and retreating inside yourself. I think that you know what you want, but I also think you're just a little bit afraid to be happy.

"Heero, you deserve to be happy, just as much as any of us do. True happiness comes from within, but if you find that someone helps you find it, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

He frowned at Heero's silent gesture of disagreement. "Don't shake your head at me, Heero. It's the truth. You can't hide behind a misunderstanding. One of you has to make the first move."

"It's been a long time," Heero protested weakly. Quatre was offering him hope, something he'd tried to quell in himself since he'd turned tail and run.

"There's a reason that they say pride goeth before a fall, Heero. You're not blind, as you've told me. Tell you what. I've been hoping to get us all together for a reunion of sorts. I won't if you're uncomfortable, but if it's OK with you, I would like to issue the invitations to everyone." His eyes bored into Heero's. "That means I want you to be there."

"What if he declines?"

"What if he says yes?"

Heero nodded. "OK."

~~~~~

The get-together was scheduled for a month hence, and time seemed to crawl for Heero, but he was grateful for Quatre's friendship in the interim. He looked forward to their chess games, enjoyed seeing Trowa from time to time as well.

He noticed things that he'd not noticed before. Stray touches, private jokes, and sometimes the way Quatre said Trowa's name, as if to remind Trowa that it was truly his, borrowed or not.

During one visit, he'd been in the bathroom when he'd overheard Quatre laugh at something that Trowa said, and the husky sound had made Heero pause in the process of washing his hands.

He'd closed his eyes and heard a low murmur in reply. Trowa had sounded amused, but the teasing tone had an undercurrent of something else - something that had made Heero feel a bit melancholy as soon as he'd recognized what it was.

He'd opened his eyes and dried his hands off, straightening the hand towel when he was done.

Trowa was always pleasant company, and Heero saw traces of the soldier he'd been in a good number of his mannerisms. He liked seeing Trowa smile. He'd seen it before, but he always knew that with Trowa, a smile was never forced.

He wished he'd been able to tell the difference with Duo.

~~~~~

Heero had been both looking forward to this day in anticipation and dreading it with every fiber of his being. He arrived early, needing to be there when Duo arrived.

He recognized the footsteps in the hall and his gut clenched when the door opened. Duo stalled for a bit before entering the living room.

Then their eyes met.

Duo was pissed. Heero supposed it was better than complete disdain, but he was unable to bear the flames of anger, and he turned to the bookshelf.

He could hear Sylvia Noventa's voice, taunting him for taking the easy way out.

Not saying anything was taking the easy way out. Not letting Duo know what went through his head during sex was the same.

And taking Duo's words to heart and running away from home like a wayward child was something that gave new meaning to the word cowardice.

Heero recognized he had many faults, but somehow that one seemed like the worst of them all. He summoned up the courage to turn back around.

He glimpsed the end of Duo's braid as his erstwhile lover headed toward the bathroom, and Heero recognized the tactic. Fortunately neither Quatre nor Trowa called attention to it, if they'd noticed. Heero had no doubt that they had.

When Wufei arrived, Heero nodded to him politely. Then dinner was served, and the five of them managed to chat amiably. Duo should have been an actor, because he adroitly sidestepped any direct eye contact with Heero, and yet didn't seem as if he was deliberately snubbing him. If he addressed Heero, it was only as part of a group, when Heero was standing near one of the others.

Then Duo invited Wufei to a game of chess, and Heero felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.

It was completely irrational. He and Quatre had played using that set many evenings. There was no reason to feel hurt.

No reason at all.

Trowa had raised an eyebrow when he'd made his excuses and bade them farewell. He felt a bit guilty for not saying good-bye to Wufei, but he supposed it wouldn't faze the man one bit.

As for Duo, at least Heero had gotten the chance to see him. He was now assured of one thing.

His feelings toward Duo hadn't changed a bit.

~~~~~

The next morning Heero sat up in bed and rubbed his face. He made a hasty call to Quatre's apartment to extend another apology for bailing early, but no one answered.

Perhaps it was just as well.

After a shower and a cup of coffee, he folded up the sofa bed and replaced the cushions, then walked around the room, adjusting the angle of the chair and makeshift coffee table as well as the position of the potted plant in the corner. The one that he'd not yet killed.

He cupped one of the tiny blossoms in his hand and marveled at how such an insignificant looking bud would become a rather large bloom given enough time. It was like potential energy versus kinetic energy, in a sense. The plant was a living example of the potential to be something more, given the proper environment.

He'd scribbled a farewell note to Duo before he moved out, but after writing it, he acknowledged his tendency to be a bit intense, and was afraid it would be misconstrued. He'd promptly shredded it.

He'd tried a second time, reluctant to leave without some sort of explanation, but got no further than writing "Duo" on the paper before he had to stop.

He'd left that piece of paper underneath his key when he left.

He'd assumed. Duo had once teased him about what happened when a person committed that sin, but the repercussions of that particular assumption were far worse than simply appearing an ass.

He'd tried, but obviously not hard enough. It was why, no matter what Quatre said, 'trying' was unacceptable. A goal was met or one fell short, the efforts expended should be irrelevant in the long run.

But try he had. He'd waited for Duo to say it first. Hell, they were young, and promises of something permanent were ridiculous to make, but he'd wanted to hear them nonetheless.

He'd also tried to show Duo when they made love, tried to tell him in words that never came.

Duo.

Sometimes it was as if everything he'd ever wanted was wrapped up in Duo. Duo was where he'd placed his heart and soul, and he had no words to describe what he felt when he accepted Duo into his body.

There was much Heero had tried to communicate, but he hadn't succeeded. He'd put all his faith in Duo being able to tell without being told.

He'd put Duo on a pedestal, in a sense. And there was only room on a pedestal for one person.

No wonder Duo had felt lonely.

He cooked himself a modest breakfast, but wasn't able to eat it. He regretted the wasted food, but he knew there was only one way to handle the situation that was responsible for his lack of appetite.

There was precious little in life worth having that was easily won. He'd learned that time and time again.

He picked up the phone and prayed that Duo hadn't changed their number.

Especially when he started dialing repeatedly, determined to hear Duo's voice in person and not on a machine.

He thought his legs were going to give out when Duo finally answered the phone and didn't slam the receiver down.

~~~~~

Heero stood outside Duo's apartment door, his stomach turning flip-flops. He raised his hand to knock, when he heard a commercial for a running shoe. Just a snippet, because Duo was apparently channel surfing, almost obsessively, from the sounds of it.

He turned the knob and found it unlocked. He hoped that was a good omen. He entered the apartment quietly and closed the door behind him.

Duo had a dazed look on his face as he stared at the screen. Heero suspected not a thing was registering. It didn't make him feel any less uneasy.

He moved to Duo's side and gently took the remote away from him, then asked if he could sit down.

Duo got to his feet instead.

Then Duo touched him.

The spark was still there, despite the incredibly gentle touch of Duo's fingers against the scar. Heero thought he might gladly shave his entire head if it meant Duo would continue to touch him.

"I've had worse."

He hadn't meant it to come out that way. He didn't mean to throw his own failings back in Duo's face. They stared at each other in silence, and then Duo's fingers slid into the back of Heero's hair.

'Duo,' an inner voice sighed. Everything he felt was wrapped up in that one word.

When Duo tilted his head to the side, Heero hoped he was reading the invitation correctly and responded accordingly.

He groaned as Duo managed to work his hands into Heero's pants and jerk him off, and was even more surprised when he came, knowing that there had been no pleasure in it for Duo. He'd always thought he'd needed that in order to achieve his own release.

"Duo..." he gasped, his voice filled with need, desire, anxiety, contentment, wonder...and love.

This time, Duo seemed to understand.

But the next time, Heero resolved, he wouldn't expect Duo to have to.

He'd tell him.