Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Ma Petite Mort ❯ Chapter 10

Ma Petite Mort / Naomi - part 10

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

The café was a quiet, classically designed diner, with a strong old-school vibe. Its décor seemed as though taken from an old American film. An ancient jukebox played notes from the past, adding to the historic atmosphere. The sitting booths were dark red leather and a sweet scent of ice cream was in the air.

A young energetic waitress showed them to their booth and handed out menus. Heero couldn't help but notice that she had the same twinkle in her eyes as Ashley or the OCSR receptionist. Duo greeted her with a smile and the teenage girl grinned.

“Call me when you're ready to order, hun,” she purred and walked away, swinging her hips.

Heero frowned and Duo shrugged helplessly.

“Do you come here often?” He asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. He wasn't angry with Duo, he had no right to be, but inside jealousy was eating away at him.

“You can say that,” Duo answered behind the menu, “it's been a while, though.”

He placed the menu down and smiled at Heero. His smile was kind, almost apologetic. “You should try the nachos with cheese.”

Heero looked down at his menu so Duo wouldn't see his shy smile. He felt stupid shying away from Duo, but he couldn't help himself. The situation was unfamiliar and therefore, awkward. Perhaps he was giving it too much thought. Neither of them had declared their outing as a date. He shouldn't be so nervous. Not around Duo.

“Just order whatever ya want,” Duo continued casually, “you can pay me back later.”

He felt better after hearing those words. Dinner would feel less like a date if he knew he had to repay Duo.

At last, Heero relaxed and leaned back into the seat. He ordered the nachos with cheese as an appetizer, then a grilled chicken steak and some apple juice. Duo, of course, ordered the hamburger meal, although he did dip his hand into Heero's nacho bowl while waiting for his order.

“I never thought I'd see the day you munch on greasy nachos,” Duo laughed, licking the salsa sauce off his fingertips.

Heero shrugged and lifted another chip from the bowl, curling the melted cheese around it. “Some things change, I suppose.”

“And some don't?”

Heero looked up at Duo, pinning his gaze with his intense blue eyes.

“I hope not,” he said, dead serious.

Uncomfortable, Duo looked away. Heero would have said more, but the waitress chose the time to show up with both their meals. For a long while, they ate in silence, until Duo spoke up again.

“Does your ear hurt?”

“No,” Heero replied, and reached to touch his pierced earlobe, “Why?”

“Just wondering. It's really red.”

There were several more attempts at a conversation, but none of the topics seemed to stick. Heero sought desperately for words, but none seemed appropriate. He was still weak with words.

Halfway through the grilled chicken breast, Heero looked up, only to be pinned by Duo's sharp gaze.

“What happened to you these past few months?” Duo asked, being unusually blunt. The question came completely unexpected.

“What happened to me?”

“Yeah, man. You changed so much. What have you been doing?”

Heero lowered his gaze to his plate. “...Sleeping with a whore.”

“No, seriously, man,” Duo insisted, “What'd you do?”

Heero poked his food with the fork. Duo's mouth dropped open in shock.

“No way, man. No fucking way. Are you kiddin' me?!”

Heero looked up, eyes serious, yet cautious. “It's the truth.”

“Dude, you must've busted a few bolts when Zero crashed!”

“Yes, I was in a coma for three weeks,” he answered seriously. Duo gawked in disbelief.

“You meant that as a joke,” Heero realized and looked away in embarrassment. For all he had learned from Adele's sarcasm, he was still a fool whenever it came to Duo.

The braided teen chuckled and shook his head, amused. “Well, at least yer trying.”

“It's not easy,” Heero sighed, prodding a baked potato, “Not for me.”

“It ain't easy on anyone, Heero,” Duo snapped, “Deal with it.”

“I'm trying,” he looked up at Duo, “But I need your help.”

“This is the third time you ever asked for my help,” Duo snarled cockily, “You ain't gonna punch me in the gut, are ya?”

He was referring to the last time they saw each other, towards the end of the Mariemaea Rebellion. It seemed that Duo would never forgive him for that punch, and for leaving him behind. Even if it had been for his own sake.

Heero shook his head. “No.”

“That's good ta hear.” Duo smiled and raised his coke bottle. Following his lead, Heero raised his glass of apple juice and they made a toast, smiling.

 

Some time after dinner, Heero's stomach became upset again. He paled with nausea, feeling weak, tired and ill. Duo noticed the change and went to pay the check. They left the diner, Heero stumbling wobbly, a hand over his abdomen, and Duo's worried eyes following his every move. Mere meters away from the café Heero suddenly bolted into a near alley and threw his body forward, vomiting.

Duo stood a few feet away, watching with a wince.

“Jesus, Heero, you didn't even down one beer!” He grunted from afar, staring at Heero's silhouette hunched over a pile of trash.

“I'm sorry...” Heero gasped between retching, then gulped and heaved some more. Duo's face twisted in disgust.

“And to think I let ya borrow my clothes...” He groan, nauseated.

“Sorry...” Heero breathed, coughing. Both his hands were pressed against the wall for support, trembling as he leaned forward and gagged.

“Is this really what you did all these months? Drinking and sleeping with some whore?” Duo asked with a hint of abhorrence in his voice.

“...yes...” Heero panted, wiping his mouth with Duo's jacket.

“Jesus Christ… you think you know a guy!”

Heero stood up unsteadily and looked at Duo, his eyes shining in the dark.

Duo sighed, his head slumping down. “Wait here... I'll go call us a cab.”

The taxi waited by the alleyway as Duo went in to help Heero. He placed a hand over Heero's shoulder for support and bit-by-bit, they made their way to the cab, Heero having to stop each time he thought he was going to be sick. Once in the back seat of the vehicle, he collapsed against Duo, not a care in his mind for what it may look like, or what Duo might say. He felt so ill; all he wanted was to sleep.

Soft vibrations coursed through the cab as it moved, soothing Heero into a hazed state of slumber. His stomach had more or less settled down, though the bitter taste of vomit in his mouth refused to let the nausea fade.

“I'm never drinking again...” he whispered, unaware that he spoke the words out loud until Duo chuckled.

“You better!”

“I'm sorry...” he murmured and leaned his head against Duo's inviting shoulder. A sweet, warm scent engulfed him, shampoo, leather and cologne. He inhaled deeply, letting Duo's unique aroma to soak his lungs.

“Dun worry about it,” Duo whispered back, tilting his head down so he could look at Heero's face, “It had to be an early night anyway. Double shifts tomorrow, remember?”

All Heero managed was to moan in response, too tired to speak. They fell into a thick, calm silence as the taxi drove through the streets of downtown L2. With each mile that passed Heero drifted slowly to sleep, warm and content. At some point Duo sneaked an arm around his waist. Enveloped in his friend's warmth, Heero continued to lie still, letting Duo think that he was asleep. Otherwise, he suspected, Duo wouldn't have been so bold.

The taxi stopped at an intersection and the halt jolted the vehicle softly. Heero opened his eyes and looked up. Duo was gazing out the window, the red glow of a stoplight washing his thoughtful features. Heero studied his face in silence, content with just that. Duo's warm arm still embraced his waist, a sensation that became dear to his heart. He never wanted him to let go.

The red glow on Duo's face changed into a bright green aura, and the cab sped forward. Duo turned away from the window, casting his gaze down at Heero. There was a brooding darkness in his eyes, Heero was mesmerized.

“Did you love her?” Duo whispered hoarsely, his features hard.

“...who?” Heero whispered back and felt Duo's arm tighten around his waist.

“That whore.”

A small smile touched Heero's lips. He closed his eyes, slowly, and nestled closer to Duo. “No.”

A mile passed in silence before Heero reopened his eyes.

“Did you love those girls you slept with?”

Sighing, Duo turned back to the window. Heero watched the streetlights flash over his face in flickering orange. One lamp, then two... three, ten...

“No,” Duo finally admitted, his eyes gazing at the road, “I didn't.”

Heero's eyes slid shut again, relieved. He leaned his head deeper against Duo's shoulders and then carefully, timidly, wrapped one of his arms around Duo. He wanted to tell him that he loved him, so much, but it was still too soon. For now he was grateful to be able to hold, and be held.

 

By the time the taxi pulled in front of Duo's apartment building, the nausea returned. Heero struggled to keep from vomiting over the back seat, for the driver already sent them wary glances over the rearview mirror. Once Duo helped him out of the car he could hold back no more. With a thick, watery cough he hunched forward and retched, having nothing to heave but bitter fluids. Some soiled the pavement, some his-- Duo's shirt. The braided teen groaned in annoyance.

“Fuck, Heero, that's gross!” he grumbled and looked away in disgust, “this is the last time yer wearing my clothes!”

“Sorry...” Heero whispered and tried to steady his breathing. Dizziness caused his world to spin in a wobbly, blurry eddy. Did his body crave alcohol that much? One drink could probably... fix... that... b...ut......

“Heero!” Duo called and jumped to catch him before he fell. He steadied him with both arms, fingers curled around his shoulders to keep him from falling again. Heero looked into Duo's eyes and saw the worry in them. If he hadn't felt so ill, he would have been surprised.

“I don't know what happened...” he murmured in apology, “My legs gave out.”

“Yeah, and yer also sweating like a pig...” Duo muttered and moved to his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. “C'mon, I think you can use some rest.”

Little by little they made their way to the forth floor, Duo having to support Heero the whole way. Once inside Duo's apartment Heero collapsed on the sofa with a miserable moan. A throbbing headache pulsated viciously in his ears and his heart raced so quickly it made him sick again. He threw a hand over his eyes, feeling the sweat soak his sleeve, and concentrated on breathing.

He heard Duo lock the door and throw his keys over the dinner table.

“That's some harsh shit yer going through,” he commented rather distantly, as if to deny the worry he had showed but moments ago. Heero listened to him enter the kitchen and flick on the light. Even behind closed eyelids he could see the dim glow.

The refrigerator was opened and Heero heard the hiss of a freshly opened beer can. The mere sound was enough to bring the nausea back.

“Why'd you drink so much anyway?” Duo asked and slumped into the comfy chair by the sofa.

“Why do you work so hard?” Heero retorted, slowly sliding his hand down so he could look at Duo. His gaze was intense, matching Duo's glare.

Duo snorted and took a long sip of beer. Heero sighed and slumped his head back against the sofa. Silence separated them for minutes long. Duo finished his beer and placed the empty can on the coffee table. Though he kept his eyes closed, Heero could feel Duo's heavy gaze upon him.

“You stink, man. I can't believe you puked all over my shirt. It was new, yanno.”

“I'll wash it tomorrow.” Heero promised and wished that Duo would get off his back, for only one night. Sickness and Duo's sour attitude did not go well together.

He heard the leather armchair squeak as Duo stood up. Then the sofa sunk under a new weight when Duo settled by his side. Surprised, Heero forced his eyes to open and looked up. His friend - was he really? - sat at the edge of the couch, looking at him silently. Their body heats merged, as if reaching out somehow. Heero shuddered at the feeling. Duo's warmth was so intense, so real, and so close. His palms began to sweat again, and it had nothing to do with his withdrawal symptoms.

“It looks like you can't keep anything down,” Duo whispered and reached two hands towards Heero's chest. Confused, Heero looked down at where long fingers made contact with his dirty shirt.

“Just like old times,” Duo continued and opened the first button of Heero's shirt, “You were like that during the war,” he said, opening a second button, “You kept puking all over the cockpit.”

“I had good reasons...” Heero breathed, a sound that barely made it past his throat, so caught in the feeling of Duo's warm fingers. They brushed against his chest, undoing button after button. Slowly, leisurely, as though they meant to tease.

“How would I know? You never shared anything with me...” Duo mumbled and unbuttoned the last one. He looked up and studied Heero's face in silence. Cobalt and violet eyes fused at contact, searching, asking, longing.

Their gazes remained locked as Duo slid the palms of his hands under the fabric, earning a gasp from the man beneath him as skin touched skin. Heero's eyes shone in the darkness of the room, glinting with the faint light that came from the kitchen. He waited patiently for anything that may occur, lips open in silent panting.

Duo's hands were warm, coarse, and heavy against his chest. He could feel the other teen's pulse through his palms, throbbing against him. A moment longer than eternity passed in pure, patient, silence.

Slowly, Duo removed Heero's shirt, sliding it off his limp body. He tossed it aside and turned to meet his gaze again, a mystery in his dark violet eyes.

“Don't forget to wash it tomorrow.” He said slowly, shakily, nearly breathless.

Heero could only nod his head as an answer, captivated by Duo's gaze. He watched intently as Duo slowly lowered his gaze to look at his chest. He could clearly see the moment Duo noticed the two nasty red scars marring his torso; his eyes narrowed, almost painfully, and something shifted in their depths.

“This is new,” he whispered, voice faltering and his eyes unable to look away.

“Yes.” Heero hissed, his eyes fixed on Duo's face as the braided teen studied his upper body. He reached a hand down, and Heero tensed, instinctively, when Duo touched the scar across his left arm. As the warmth of soft fingertips registered, he relaxed, a shudder running through him. He closed his eyes and allowed Duo's fingers to trace the scar's length, from his upper arm, to his shoulder and down below to his shoulder blade.

“This is from when Zero crashed?” Duo asked, quiet, timid, almost guilty.

“Yes.” Heero mumbled through a short, shaky, breath.

Duo moved to touch the scar across his abdomen. “...does it hurt?”

Heero gasped when touched there. His body trembled when Duo's fingertip dipped into his scarred navel, exploring in an unusually shy, wary fashion.

“Not really,” he answered, struggling to even his breath, “it tingles... when you touch it.”

“They're ugly.” Duo stated, pulling back. He looked up to meet Heero's eyes, for the first time since he settled on the sofa. His gaze was harsh, almost challenging and in a way, cold. It was a barrier Heero was already familiar with.

“I know,” he whispered, returning Duo's gaze with matching intensity, “But they're a part of me.”

He reached his scarred hand to touch his right arm; fingers brushed over another scar, round and deep, like a crater in his upper right arm. The remains of a gunshot wound.

“Just like this scar,” he spoke when he saw Duo eyeing the round mark, “the one you caused, is a part of me.”

Duo turned his head away to conceal a small smile, but Heero had seen it; a slight, wistful twitch of lips. Evidence that Duo remembered fondly the day they met, the day he had so recklessly shot him. It was a scar that Heero bore willingly.

An uneasy silence settled over them and they remained still, brooding. The only sound in the apartment was the humming of the kitchen's fluorescent light. Silence fitted the late hour and for a while it lingered, hovering in still air.

“I better hit the sack,” Duo mumbled and rose to his feet, his back to Heero, “I gotta long day t'morrow.”

Heero did not argue. As much as he wanted the moment to last, he knew better than to push Duo.

“Good night,” he whispered and watched his friend - hopefully more - disappear into the dark corridor. The tingling sensation of warmth still lingered to his scarred skin, refusing to cool.

What happened between them tonight? Dare he hope that..?

 

Questions tormented him well into the night, whirling in his head, poking, taunting, and leaving no room for rest. He tossed and turned from side to side, his scars pulsing as if burnt. Duo's touched nestled itself into his skin like a haunting memory. It flooded him with thoughts of flesh and salty sweat, figures moaning in the dark. Slumber would not come and he became frustrated with the nagging awareness.

For hours he lay awake, ill, restless, confused and aroused. With a simple touch of his fingers Duo managed to stir every nerve in his body, mental and physical alike. He longed for an explanation, a way for him to understand why Duo had done what he had. Once again he had retreated to his room before any conclusions were drawn.

Perhaps he needed time to think things over, to reconsider his past decisions. Whichever the cause, it stole sleep from Heero's eyes. He was troubled beyond belief, beyond anything he ever thought he could be. Never in his life did he allow a matter to bother him so deeply, so intimately, to the very core of his soul.

Light touched the edge of the windowsill and Heero turned his eyes towards the dim glow. The colony's artificial dawn broke with the gradual brightening of man-made illumination.

He sighed and turned to lie on his stomach so he could bury his face in the sofa's shadows. After some time his mind settled down enough to sleep. It felt as though he had just closed his eyes when suddenly he awoke, Duo's insistent voice calling in his ears.

“Heero, Heero, wake up, man.”

He groaned, pulling away deeper into the sofa until his face pressed against the backrest.

“C'mon you lazy ass, wake up!” Duo grumbled, his voice tired, but still loud enough to be an annoyance.

“It's too early...” Heero slurred into the cushions and felt a headache build up. He groaned miserably and buried his throbbing head deeper into the couch.

“It's seven A.M, Heero. I have to go soon so just wake up and listen!”

It took him a few moments but after an arduous struggle Heero managed to turn and face Duo. Groggily, he opened his eyes and searched the face of the blurry figure before him.

“What... is it?”

Duo, who was kneeling by the sofa, his face mere inches from Heero, sighed. “I'm covering for this guy today,” he began slowly, “so I won't be back till tomorrow morning.”

“I know that...” Heero let out with a long, lazy yawn. He was about to turn around again and sleep, before Duo placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“That's not what I wanted to say,” he grunted, though amused, “Jesus, Heero, if there was a battle coming you would have jumped outta bed in a second!”

Heero made a sour face and then rolled his eyes. “There aren't any battles, Duo. I'm tired.” He said in an incoherent mumble and prepared to turn around again.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Duo snorted, his hand still on Heero's shoulder.

“Listen, man, I left ya some cash on the table,” Heero reopened his eyes at the words, “Go to the pharmacy and buy whatever you need to get better. And eat something for crying out loud... Try to keep it in for more than a lousy hour.”

There was a trace of gentleness in Duo's voice, much like the night before, when he asked about his scars. Heero blinked, bowled over by the care shining in Duo's eyes.

“Just... don't use the money for booze,” Duo added firmly, his eyes hardening in an instant, “Got that?”

Heero nodded slowly, mystified. “...I won't.”

“Good,” Duo smiled and then quickly, before Heero could even comprehend what he was doing, placed a soft kiss on his cheek. The kiss had been warm and hasted by shyness. In less than a second Duo was on his feet, pretending that nothing had happened.

“I'll see ya t'morrow then.” He said with a smile and walked to the door.

Heero lay on the sofa, eyes wide, cheek flushed with a first real kiss, as he watched Duo walk out the door. His braid swung contently from side to side, chestnut dancing against the dark blue of his uniforms.

With a small smile of his own Heero turned to lie on his side and fell into a deep, comfortable slumber.

 

He woke up feeling more energetic than ever before. It was late noon and he had only slept for about seven hours, not hardly enough to compensate for previous sleepless nights, but he felt refreshed. Stronger, and in a way, complete. Duo had answered many questions that morning, without the use of a single word. Heero had to smile at the thought; he never took Duo as that kind of person. Speech had always been his form of expression.

Then again, as Heero knew well, people do change.

Deciding to put all of his restless energy into good use, Heero began to clean the apartment. He started with washing the clothes he had worn the previous night, which only reminded him of his promise to Duo that he'd go to the pharmacy. He showered, dressed - in Duo's clothes once again - and made a short trip to the local drugstore. He also took the opportunity to do Duo's grocery shopping, buying items that he knew were needed. After that he resumed the self-appointed task of cleaning Duo's apartment.

The chores were simple but Heero wanted to contribute in any way he could. Not to mention that he had to keep his body active and his hands busy doing anything but what his horny teenage body wanted him to do. Duo's kiss still lingered on his cheek, his touch still warm on his arm and torso. Heero scrubbed the apartment clean, polishing, rubbing and dusting everything furiously. Adele would have laughed if she saw him waste all of his sexual energy on such activities. `A perfectly good waste', was what she would have said. Heero couldn't agree more, but he refused to dishonor Duo by touching himself in his apartment.

Trashcans were empty, shelves dusted, carpets vacuumed and the kitchen sparkled by the time the clock ticked five thirty P.M. Heero was still restless. Duo wouldn't be back until morning and the prospect of spending the evening, and night, alone was more than he could bear. As idiotic as he felt, he had to admit that he missed Duo. Not even a day had passed since he last saw him. He couldn't help it though; Duo left him on the edge of his seat. Such a cruel thing to do and so typically Duo.

He skipped lunch, knowing that he would throw it up anyway, and went out for a jog. He ran a good five miles, panting, sweating, barely able to carry himself after the first three miles. It didn't take more than the single memory of Duo's fingers against his skin to keep him going for the other two.

After he downed half a bottle of water Heero continued roaming impatiently around the apartment, anxious to see Duo. To touch him again. To press his lips to his... to...

He threw himself on the living room floor to began a long series of sit-ups and pushups. Half an hour later he finally collapsed, falling back against the floor. He lay sprawled on the carpet behind the sofa, panting harshly, finally drained.

It was a good ten minutes later when his breathing evened. He remained on the floor, lying spread eagle, his numb gaze fixed on the ceiling. Since his entire body ached, Heero decided that it would be best to keep his mind, rather than his body, busy.

He rose to his feet with a groan and fell into the sofa in hopes to find refuge within the television realm. Talk shows were crap and the sitcoms joked about things he knew little about. He settled on some sappy drama movie, watching it with mild interest until hunger struck him for the first time in two days. Encouraged, he walked into the kitchen and took his time making dinner for one. Suddenly, it seemed so sad to cook for a single person. Companionship was something he had disregarded in the past. Now, after months of rooming with Adele, and after two dinners with Duo, he felt lonely in an empty kitchen. He missed Duo.

At 20:00 P.M Heero sat in front of the television again and flipped through the channels. Twelve more hours to go...

Eleven hours and fifty-nine minutes, not counting the seconds...

He sighed at his own pathetic behavior. It was all Duo's doing, he decided, it was the damn baka's fault.

Newscasts appeared in every channel. It was past the time for the evening news, Heero noted, as he watched the anchormen speak; so bored that he didn't bother to listen. From what he did gather, watching random images when they caught his attention, they were speaking about some shuttle. Probably the United Interstellar one. When will the media be bored with that old news? For him it was already in the past, and he had almost died there. Oh, and accused of being the saboteur.

“Yes, Shelia, I am standing here in the OCSR Operations Room, where experts are still trying to locate the missing shuttle.”

Heero sighed, irritated with the news. He changed the channel in hopes to find something better to watch, but the same newscast was on every station.

“Darrel, why aren't they sending another rescue team?” The studio's female anchor asked dramatically.

“Well, as you may all know this is the second call OCSR received from the debris belt in the past week. Only four days ago, United Interstellar lost one of their shuttles out there and now, with the loss of both the cargo ship and the rescue crew, OCSR has declared the area as a no-man's zone, meaning no one goes in, or out, until they find a way to resolve this situation.”

Heero straightened in his seat, for once interested in what was being said. Something must have happened. Was Duo there? He glanced quickly at the clock by the television. 21:18 P.M. Duo was well into his night shift, patrolling outer-colony walls. He whirled back to the television, eyes wide.

The female anchor nodded grimly. “So what they're actually saying is - I'm just making things clear for our viewers - that there won't be a second rescue party entering the debris field.”

“No Shelia, as far as what my OCSR sources are revealing, there isn't going to be a second search party, at this time.”

Heero's mouth gaped slightly, too stunned to form words. Had something happened to the OCSR patrol shuttle? To... to Duo's patrol shuttle?

“I think that the question on all of our minds is, Darrel - are they leaving these men out there to die?”

“It's too early to tell, Sheila, because frankly...”

By that point Heero was too far-gone with fright to listen any further. The remote rested limply in his hand, still pointed at the television. His heart clenched, as though clasped in a fist of anguish and grief. Twisting, bleeding, so painfully that Heero let out a gasp of pain, a hand over his heart.

“No...” He whispered, numb blue eyes gawking at the television accusingly, agonizingly.

“There is a lot of embarrassment in the OCSR Headquarters,” the male reporter continued, “It seems like only now people are beginning to wonder why this dangerous debris field had been left untended for so long.”

“I'm sure that a lot of people are thinking the same,” The female anchor in the studio agreed, “Our prayers are with the families of those brave men trapped in space. I think that we all wish for this tragedy to end well.”

He wanted to punch her, to rip the sappy expression off her face. She had no right to offer fake sympathy! No right at all!

Tears stung his eyes, for the first time in years. Something was blocking his throat, making it hard to breath. He vaguely remembered that it was what crying felt like, the sensation alien in his throat. He coughed, almost sobbing, dropping to his knees by the sofa.

Rescue plans flashed through his mind. He'd take Duo's OCSR uniforms. He'll hijack a shuttle. He'll go there himself and save those men! Save Duo. He could do it. He'll ask Hilde to help. She could get him into the spaceport inside her salvage yard truck. He'll kill anyone who'll try to stop him. He will... he will get Duo back!

So lost in his grief and confusion, Heero failed to notice the sound of a key sliding into the lock.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

To be continued...

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