Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Ma Petite Mort ❯ Chapter 12

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Thank you so much to all the ppl who reviewed this story and kept me going. It took real courage to stick around a story like this. I hope you will enjoy this last chapter and thank you for taking this journey with me as I tried to explore something a bit different in Gundam Wing. ^-^

Ma Petite Mort / Naomi - part 12

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Heero could not remember which brand of shampoo Duo used. Usually, it wouldn't pose as a problem, but as he stood in front of the shampoo section at the local drug store, the matter reached an utmost importance. Duo had written `shampoo' in their weekly shopping list, however, he did not detail which brand.

And there were a lot, as Heero painfully found out.

He stood, bewildered, looking at the rows of colorful shampoo bottles. People glanced at him awkwardly while reaching for their favored hair product. Heero paid them no mind.

He placed his shopping basket on the floor and returned to study the shampoos. He began with the male products first, for it seemed unlikely that Duo would use any of the feminine ones. His hair did not smell like flowers, fruits or bubble gum. Though, now that he thought about it, Heero found it hard to remember what it did smell like, exactly. He needed to encounter the smell in order to recognize it.

One by one he picked up the bottles, flipped the lid open and brought them to his nose. Some had a strong, sharp smell, clearly male but not what he was looking for. Others had a lighter scent but none of which he recognized.

People continued giving him funny looks. One of the store's workers offered her assistance, but since she obviously didn't know what Duo's hair smelled like - or so he hoped, because with Duo, it was hard to be certain - he declined her offer.

He imagined that he must have seemed bizarre: a seventeen-year-old, dressed in black and white security guard uniforms, opening shampoo bottles and inhaling each scent. The uniforms could not be helped, since he was on his way back from work, but the shampoo bottles... that was more difficult to explain, so he simply ignored the stares and continued his search.

The next bottle had a cool crisp scent with a hint of citrus. It was nice, but not Duo. Another had a strong licorice scent, which disgusted him and he hurried to shove it back into the shelf. More shampoo bottles, the cheaper brands, possessed a contemporary masculine fragrance, but none of which he recognized as Duo's.

At last, he found it. The moment he inhaled all he could think about was Duo. The soothingly pleasant and very refreshing scent of natural fruits and cedarwood. Yes, that was the one. Duo's shampoo.

Heero smiled, and placed it in his shopping basket.

Duo had also listed `toothpaste, razor blades & aspirin' (he was prone to headaches), which were more or less easy to choose. However, the rest of the shopping list was what Heero had mentally added, without Duo's knowing, and it was the more difficult part. Lube and condoms. Both were outside his field of expertise, and also, quite embarrassing to obtain.

That was why he wanted to be quick about it, just picking up whatever seemed fit, but the moment he was faced with different types of lubricants, he had no choice but the carefully choose the one that suited him best. He read through the information pamphlet stored by the shelf. If he was going to do something, he was going to do it right and with no regrets. He shoved his nervousness aside, annoyed with himself for even feeling it, and picked a silicone-based lube.

Condoms were easier to choose, though he wouldn't have bothered if Duo hadn't insisted, saying that he didn't want to take any chances.

The cashier woman gave him a stern look as she passed each product over the register. With every beep the machine made her scowl intensified. Heero gave her one of his infamous `mind-your-own-damn-business' glares. He paid and stomped out of the store, angry at the unnecessary criticism. If the damn woman was sexually frustrated she should go get laid instead of taking it out on him.

Nine weeks had passed since Heero first arrived to L2-V08744. Much had changed, but hardly as much as Heero wanted it to. He still lived with Duo and they became closer, however, things were far from perfect. Even though they have more or less agreed to become lovers, they haven't reached the physical sense of the word. Some nights they lay spooned together on Duo's bed, other nights they fell asleep curled in front of the television. Sometimes, though, they fought and kept their distance for the night, maybe even a week.

Duo continued to work at OCSR, although he transferred to the engineering department rather than active duty. He became a mechanic and was, for the time being, relatively content dealing with mechanical parts rather than body parts.

He also arranged some legal papers for Heero, using his OCSR and Preventer connections. Like Duo, Heero had been listed as a nineteen-year-old citizen of L2-V08744. While he did not look his fictional age, Heero managed to get a job as a security guard at the local shopping center. He did not carry a pistol - new laws made it illegal - and had been provided with an electric stun gun instead. As long as it was not a lethal weapon he did not mind carrying it in his holster.

The job was easy, dull and monotonous, which suited him just fine. Conversation was not a requirement, although he did spend most of his day around people. It was a small start for some, but a great progress for a person who shied away from people most of his life. Duo had said so himself.

Walking down the street, Heero sighed and clutched the shopping bag tightly.

He still sought Duo's approval in many matters regarding life and it was beginning to bother him. They could never reach an open, equal relationship if he kept seeking Duo's advice and consent on every tiny matter. His intention was to find his own way in life, to find Heero inside the mess that was left of him after the war ended. Living under Duo's shadow was a hindrance. He was certain that Duo felt the same way, though he never said anything about it.

Until he'll find a way to rid himself of the need for approval, Heero felt that he will never be able to get anywhere with Duo. His (almost a) lover had enough problems to deal with and the last thing he needed was someone to depend on him one-sidedly. Unlike Adele, Duo was not someone who was easily achieved, easily reached. In fact, that was what made him so special; it was what made Heero's feelings for him count.

For two and a half months Heero had struggled to find a way to fulfill that understanding. It was a slow, painful progress, full of failure and regression. Two steps forward, one step back. Sometimes a touch of a hand pushed Duo away, on other occasions it was exactly what Duo looked for. Most of the time, it was hard to tell.

Through trial and error, Heero had to learn how to offer his love; he slowly began to learn who was the person he loved. Duo had to do the same. It was what made them a couple in Heero's eyes, it was what made their love mutual. Duo was also trying, although sometimes, much to Heero's annoyance, he was a real `bitch' about it.

In retrospect, Heero couldn't help but forgive Duo for his harshness. It was simply a part of him, a barrier of sorts, which had to be accepted. He would've been lying if he said that he did not have his own barriers. There were days when he regressed to his moody, unsocial behavior and it was up to Duo to pull him back up. Moments of relapse were frequent when they fought, reawakening Heero's need for liquor. He was still struggling to rid himself of his addiction. Whenever diffidence struck him he longed for a drink to banish the troublesome feeling.

Duo was not forgiving in that matter, not at all. He refused to show sympathy and offer compassion whenever Heero's resolve to quit drinking faltered. It was an ultimatum - a lover of flesh and blood, or one of ignorance and delusion. Duo's policy of `no shortcuts, no helping hand' seemed cruel and unjust at times, but it was what eventually pulled Heero out of the swamp of liquor.

The withdrawal symptoms gradually faded and the need for alcohol weakened with time. Work took most of Heero's day and Duo occupied the rest. There was no time for him to revert into his drinking habits.

Nevertheless, there was one last thing he needed to do.

Still on his way home, Heero paused in front of a small liquor store, a few blocks from Duo's apartment building. There was a beautiful display of liquor bottles, of all shapes and sizes, at the store's window. He gazed at the prices for a moment, calculating, before he entered the store and purchased a large, expensive bottle of brandy. Duo would surely kill him if he found out, but Heero had a debt to repay.

Arriving at Duo's apartment a few minutes later, Heero placed the shopping bag on the dinner table, and hid the brandy bottle under the sofa. The apartment had been locked when he entered, so he assumed that Duo had left for work. Wednesdays were what he came to call `lonely days' because he worked a day shift and Duo the night shift. They only saw each other in the morning, and if Heero stayed up late enough he caught Duo before he went to bed.

However as he crossed the living room towards the kitchen, he heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Curious, he looked up at the hallway. “Duo?” he called, “Are you home?”

There was no answer. Heero walked towards the bathroom and saw that the door was half open, steam floating into the corridor.

“Duo?” he called again and opened the door further, “What are you still doing home?”

He saw Duo still behind the clear shower curtain, surprised.

“Don't ask... my shift got rescheduled for tomorrow,” he replied, raising his voice over the sound of rushing water, “The ship didn't arrive to port yet so they sent me home. I came down there for nothing!”

“I see,” Heero mumbled, frowning slightly. He stood at the bathroom doorway, surrounded by steam. Duo's blue OCSR jumpsuit lay on the floor, soaked with black grease and other oily stains. His white undershirt - which read `I'm with stupid -->' - was also filthy. Heero sighed, knowing it was his turn to do the laundry.

He looked back at Duo's blurry figure, standing behind the clear shower curtain. For a moment he simply watched the fuzzy mass of flesh and hair, feeling a bit out of place. It was the first time he was close to seeing Duo naked, but then again Duo must have known that an open door was an invitation. It was another step forward in their relationship, and this time it Duo was on the incentive. Heero smiled; such a thing did not happen very often.

Duo picked up his shampoo bottle and smacked its bottom in order to get the last drops out. Heero watched him as he applied the soap into his long hair. It suddenly occurred to him that it was the first time he was seeing Duo with his hair down. He swallowed, hard.

A soft scent of fruits and cedar wood mingled with the steam filling the bathroom. Heero inhaled deeply and allowed the sweet moist air to raise a small smile on his lips. All of a sudden, it didn't feel so odd standing there while Duo showered. It was almost... natural.

“I stopped by the clinic today,” Heero finally spoke, “To get my blood test results.”

Duo peeked out of the shower curtain, hair and soap everywhere. “And?” he asked, eyes seriously grim.

Heero took another moment to look into Duo's eyes, letting the suspense hang in the air. At Duo's request, he had applied for a blood test at the local health clinic. His lover, or almost a lover, refused to sleep with him until he knew they were both clean. Heero could not blame him for his reasoning, but asked Duo to do the same.

“I'm clean.” He said, smirking as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Duo smiled and nodded his head in approval. “That's great.” He closed the curtain and continued massaging the shampoo into his long hair.

Heero stood silently and watched as his boyfriend - and he used that term loosely - rinsed his hair. Duo didn't seem to mind him being there, and he indulged in the feeling of simple, natural acceptance.

“So I guess you wanna go someplace t'night?” Duo asked, ruffling his soapy masses of hair under the water, “Or you wanna skip straight to the part when we fuck like bunnies?”

“Duo, please.” Heero sighed, shaking his head; “You know how much it bothers me when you put it that way.”

“I know,” Duo mumbled, serious once again. He reached for the towel rack, snatched a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Stepping out of the bath, he sighed and turned to Heero.

“I dun really mean it, yanno.” He said honestly, his violet eyes hidden behind the long bangs that plastered to his face. He pushed the hair away and looked up at Heero.

“I do wanna be with you,” he whispered, almost embarrassed, “In that... way, I mean.”

Heero smiled softly, relieved, and left the bathroom.

Honesty became their lifeline; it saved them the agony of another verbal fight. Admitting their true feelings was difficult, but still they tried. Each day they struggled to forgive and accept, time and time again. They were both difficult people, as Duo had once put it, too different and too unsure of themselves.

Heero was no fool. He had been before, due to his ignorance, but during the past nine weeks he had learned the true meaning of the word `relationship'. There was nothing sexual or romantic in what they shared. Not yet. Instead there was the struggle for mutual understanding, for the complete and utter acceptance of the other.

It was a guessing game, a tiring one. Treading on eggshells was wearing them both down. Sometimes words were not enough to soothe the ache of exhaustion. The mental exertion became physical, pressing down on his shoulders.

Lying prone on the sofa, Heero let one arm dangle down lifelessly, the other he used to pillow his head. A lazy cat was what Adele had called him when he lay like that in her bed, refusing to speak or touch her. Heero found that it was easier to think in that position; he was calmer, his muscles lax, his mind clear. For moments long he lay motionless on the sofa, eyes closed as he listened to his own breathing.

Soft footsteps approached, bare feet padding across the room. Sweet cedar fragrance filled the air and raised a hidden smile on Heero's lips. He felt the sofa give in under Duo's weight as the teen settled on its the edge.

He waited, unmoving, for Duo to speak, perhaps to continue the apology he began in the bathroom. But instead of words came the warm feeling of Duo's hands on his back. He flinched, unprepared for the touch.

Duo chuckled softly and leaned down, slowly, to kiss the back of Heero's neck. His hands rested heavily against Heero's back, allowing their warmth to sip through the fabric of his uniforms.

A shiver ran through him as Duo slid his hands down slowly, in a most sensual way, to his lower back, and up again. He rubbed Heero's back gently, leisurely, his body moving back and forth to mimic the motion. Each time Duo titled forward his body heat drowned Heero, and his lips parted slightly, breathless.

Pleasant silence surrounded the two. Heero melted against the sofa, body lax and content with the warm touch of Duo's hands. He sighed pleasingly as Duo slid his palms under his shirt, pulling it up to expose his lower back. His hands continued to rub Heero's back, skin against skin, one's warmth mingling with the other.

A small huff escaped Heero's parted lips as Duo leaned forward, nearly pressing against his back. He opened his eyes, about to say something, but then felt the hot wetness of Duo's tongue flick his pierced earlobe. He gasped silently, a moan climbing up his throat, as Duo swirled the small earring in his mouth, sucking and nibbling at his earlobe.

Pleasure flooded him, melting every muscle with delightful warmth. Callous hands moved to caress his shoulder blades, inciting a moan from his lips as fingers dipped into his scar. One hand remained over scarred skin as the other trailed downwards, tracing his spine until settling just above his waistband. All the while, kisses were rained on his neck and ear; a tongue traced his jaw line. Heero shivered with pleasure, merging with the cushions.

Once again Duo's actions rang louder than his words, chasing all doubt from Heero's mind. Despite his bratty act, despite his annoying defiance, Duo lusted for him. Their attraction was mutual, as Duo came to remind him once again.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered in Heero's ear, “You know I didn't mean it.”

“I'm not hurt,” Heero sighed lengthily, “I'm frustrated.”

“Don't be,” Duo whispered as he nuzzled his face in the hollow of Heero's neck and shoulder. His hand slid past the waistband of Heero's pants, fingers venturing lower to tease the sensitive skin below.

Heero swallowed a gasp and closed his eyes; pleasure flooded him, rising from the tip of his toes to his groin. He twitched beneath Duo, body moving agonizingly against the sofa.

“Don't... tease me...” he pleaded, breathless, “Unless you plan to do something about it...”

Duo chuckled and kissed Heero's cheek, just above the lips. He pressed down heavily against Heero, chest against back, groin against rear. He leaned his chin on Heero's shoulder so that he could whisper in his ear. Heero lay silent and listened, his eyes open and clouded with lust.

“Not yet,” Duo breathed into Heero's ear, a naughty smile hovering over his features, “But soon.”

He pressed his groin down harder and Heero groaned, eyes rolling back slightly. He did not mind Duo being on top, since it was obviously a role he was more comfortable with. Adele had introduced him to anus stimulation - he'd been so drunk that all he knew was pleasure and therefore didn't mind. He did not feel less of a man knowing that he enjoyed being touched there. Especially by Duo. Only by Duo. Feeling Duo's heat pressed against him, fingers moving in the tight space between his trousers and his skin, Heero's entire rear tickled with the need to be touched, deep, deep inside. The feeling was so powerful that he trembled.

Duo's fingers brushed against the crease between his cheeks, but then they pulled away, leaving him dazed and aroused.

“...tease...” he hissed and Duo chuckled again, a touch of hot breath against Heero's skin. He pulled away, taking the heat that had surrounded Heero so perfectly.

“Tonight,” he said, rising to his feet, “I promise.”

Heero turned to lie on his back, cheeks flushed, panting as he looked up at Duo. His cobalt eyes shone with gratefulness and anticipation, a warm shine that made his eyes brighter.

“I love you,” he whispered, confidant in his words. Watching Duo's face, he felt strangely clam as he waited for a response.

Duo gazed at him, bewildered for a moment before his eyes softened with a loving glow. “Yeah, Heero, me too.” He said, smiling, and walked towards the kitchen.

Heero remained on the sofa, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. He listened to the rattling of pots and pans, content with the serenity that fell upon him.

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A harsh winter breeze raced past the streets of downtown Brussels. A heavy carpet of snow covered cobblestone roads and gothic buildings. Christmas decorations hung over every door and window, green, red and gold that painted the gray avenues with the joy of the holiday. Beggars dressed in filthy rags reached a pleading hand for money as a jolly Santa Claus jingled a bell for donations. The year AC 197, a year of peace, neared its end with the cheerful ringing of Christmas bells.

Masses of people roamed the city squares and gardens, caught in the holiday shopping rush. Plastic bags full of goods rattled loudly as the crowds swarmed past decorated stores. Holiday music drifted out of every door, swallowed by the murmur of the crowds.

Among the hectic wives and annoyed husbands, excited children and couples in love, walked a lone woman, dressed in a red wool coat and tall black boots. Her high heels tapped loudly on the pavement as she strode through the horde. Strands of green/red hair escaped the heavy brown scarf that covered her head. Her features, slight, thin and pale were hidden behind a pair of large sunshades, which reflected the cloudy skies. In her arms was a hefty paper bag full of groceries.

As she entered the slums the crowds thinned and alone she walked towards her shabby apartment building. Entering the poor lobby she removed her snow covered scarf and sunglasses. She shifted the grocery bag from one hand to another and began the long climb up the stairs.

When she reached her door, Adele stopped, surprised to see a small, long, cardboard package sitting at her doorstep. Frowning, she reached one hand to pick it up. She keyed herself in and made her way through the messy apartment, flicking the light on. Warm colors coated the room in a sharp contrast to the gloomy winter raging outside.

Clothes and glasses of liquor lay everywhere, along with a pile of clean laundry on the beanbag in the corner of the room. A figure lay on the bed, hidden by heavy covers. It stirred when she entered, but otherwise remained asleep.

Adele placed the shopping bag on the dinner table and turned back to the package in her hands. She shook it and listened, trying to determine what it was. Carefully, she sat down and opened the box.

A slow, wily smile spread on her lips as she reached into the box and retrieved an expensive bottle of brandy. As she pulled it out, a very small piece of paper fell onto the table. Puzzled, she read it:

`Mon professeur, ma putain, ma petite mort. Tu a gagné. Merci. Heero.'

(= My teacher, my whore, my little death. You won. Thank you. Heero).

She flipped the note over and her smile widened. The note was actually a small photograph of Heero, along with another handsome, braided young man. It was a small black & white photo-booth picture. They were both seated crammed together in the small space, arms thrown over the other's shoulder, smiling at the camera. Smiling. It suited Heero.

Adele snorted and rolled her eyes. “Je savais que cela devait être ce gars,” (= I knew it had to be the guy) she muttered and reached for the brandy bottle. She opened the cork and inhaled the bittersweet liquor, closing her eyes to indulge in the scent before she poured herself a glass. Looking at the photo, she made a toast and emptied the drink.

On the bed, the figure stirred, moaning softly. She turned to watch the figure with glinting eyes, silently waiting for him to awake. The figure sat up and the covers moved, curling around the small, slender body of a boy. He was about five or six, dressed in dirty rags. His little face was streaked with mud and his long, filthy blond hair seemed hard as straw. The small street urchin yawned and rubbed his eyes.

Adele smiled softly, her features glowing with a kind, motherly radiance.

“Bonjour,” (= Good morning) she greeted sweetly.

The boy turned to look at her, wariness and distrust in his dark green eyes. She had picked him off the street but hours ago, on the way back from a nightly client. The boy had been sleeping alone in the same park she had encountered another, teenage boy, almost a year ago. The child had been shivering in the cold, unconscious. She cradled him in her arms and for the first time in years felt a spark of... something, anything, whatever it may be, in her heart.

“Ne sois pas timide,” (= Don't be shy) she added reassuringly and rose from her chair, “Viens ici, Je vais te faire quelque chose à manger.” (= Come here, I'll make you something to eat).

The child followed her with his wary gaze, watching as she moved to the small refrigerator. Using a magnet, she hung the photo on the refrigerator door and then pulled out a couple of eggs and a pack of bacon.

For a while, the boy on the bed remained unmoving, until he finally rose and padded towards the dinner table. Adele served him a large meal and petted his hair as she sat down as well. She toyed with the brandy bottle, moving her fingers up and down the bottle's neck. The child ate silently, devouring his meal.

Unconsciously, Adele's hand moved to rest over her lower stomach, touching the fabric that hid her ugly scar. A warm feeling grew inside her as she watched the child's small face. He looked up at her, scowling, and then clasped his arms protectively around his plate, pulling it closer to his chest. He hunched towards it and continued eating hurriedly, as if afraid that she will take it from him. Adele only smiled and took a long sip from her brandy.

She then glanced at the small photo on the refrigerator, studying the smiling faces of the two young men who were so obviously in love. She raised the bottle, gesturing towards them as she made a toast.

“Pour les miserables.” She whispered, smiling.

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Owari.

Dedicated to the one person I've ever loved, but foolishly lost. Be happy, wherever you are.

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