Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Whenever You Call Series: -5- Warmth ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own `em, so don't sue me!
Arc: Whenever You Call

Story Title: Step 5 -- Warmth
Author: La Loba de Mibu
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, Shounen ai
Pairing: 1+2
Summary: Duo and Heero are home recovering from their botched assignment, and both are having trouble getting over their first close brush with death after years of peacetime. Still insecure in their new found feelings, they stumble along the way as they learn to comfort one another.

Word Count: +/- 3300
Author Notes: This takes place in the Whenever You Call universe. It is set three weeks after the fic: “Not Going Anywhere”. Heero and Duo have been roommates and Preventer partners for over a year, and are currently 18 going on 19 years old. The “Step” stories in the Whenever You Call universe are mostly designed to stand alone, however they each build upon the previous “Step,” and thus are best read in order.

 

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Prior Steps~

 

Step 1 -- It Starts . . .

Step 2 -- Looking For Love

Step 3 -- What the Rain Knows

Step 4 -- Not Going Anywhere

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Whenever You Call -- Warmth

 

Duo sighed, pulling the sheets off his bed mostly one handed, as his left shoulder was still too tender to do much with even though he had been allowed to discard the arm sling. They were soaked and reeked of sweat; he'd had a nightmare, a particularly vivid one, for the third time that week. It was the damn pain meds, they had a history of giving him night terrors and so he rarely used them. However, without them, his shoulder would be too sore to move. It was a no-win situation in which the best he could do was take the medication as little as possible.

 

He kicked the sheets into a corner of his bedroom, and decided that remaking the bed with new sheets wasn't worth it since he had no intention of going back to sleep. Instead, he put on a clean tank top, and limped down the hall past Heero's door to the bathroom, not bothering with the crutch he was supposed to use until his injured leg fully healed. Opening the tap, he scrubbed his face with a bit of cool water before grabbing a towel and patting his it dry. He frowned at his reflection, annoyed to notice his bangs had gotten wet. He wrung them out before brushing them aside to poke at the dark circles developing under his eyes. He looked like shit.

 

Duo shut off the light and exited the bathroom, pausing in the hall and looking out at their small living room. He stared at their video game consoles, debating whether or not to follow his usual routine of giving up on sleep altogether for the night of tranquil reading until the sun rose; or whether he should venture into unfamiliar waters and possibly get the sleep he craved. He was so exhausted that he was willing to risk a rather painful, and certainly unbearable once he really woke up properly, rejection at his roommate's whim.

 

But was it really that big of a deal? After all, Heero did it all the time; knock on his door after a nightmare that is. The phenomenon had utterly and completely shocked Duo to his core the first time it happened. The two ex-pilots had been living together for only five or six months when Duo was awakened by Heero's soft insistent rapping in the middle of the night.

 

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He remembered a very soft knocking sound resonating into the depths of his dreams repeatedly several times. He had grumbled tiredly and shifted in his bed, but the soft sound continued in regular intervals, making it harder and harder to ignore. Duo was already counting down to the next interval that it would come, only to be greeted by silence which ironically had him instantly awake. He blinked at the blaring red numbers of his bedside clock; 3:00AM. Dammit.

 

With a yawn, he dragged himself out of his bed, and opened his room door. Looking around his doorjamb down the length of the hall, he spotted the only possible perpetrator padding almost silently toward the living room.

 

“Heero?” he asked sleepily.   

 

The man paused and turned around. Duo noted several key details even through the sleepy fog currently enveloping his senses. First of all, Heero was wearing a different nightshirt than the one he'd originally gone to bed with. There was a particularly troubled looking crease to his brow, and at the moment he had his armful of sweat soaked bed sheets. All these little insignificant factors added up to one big conclusion; Heero had had a nightmare.

 

Since Duo moved in, the boys had come to an unspoken agreement to not draw attention to each other's nightmares, even if they noticed them. For Heero to come knocking on his door after having one, could only mean that it must have been god awful enough for the solitary man to not want to be alone in the dark silent apartment. He instantly felt terribly guilty for ignoring the soft timid rapping earlier. He wanted to apologize, but knew better than to address the matter directly. Instead of waiting for Heero to reply, he stepped out into the hall and made his way on socked feet to the living room, addressing Heero as he walked past him.

 

“How's about we play some Nintendo?” he gave Heero a small grin; it was tired, but it was genuine.

 

The troubled crease eased up a little, and Heero nodded, stepping into the bathroom briefly to stuff his sheets into the basket of dirty laundry. Duo passed him a controller when he sat next to him, and popped in the first fighting game in their stack. It featured the Nintendo all-stars melee fighting on crazy platforms with the occasional odd weapon thrown their way. They went into vs. mode first, where Duo promptly got his ass handed to him, rather quickly Heero might add, fifteen times in a row.

 

Duo had only been moved in for a few weeks, when one Friday afternoon as the boys were walking home from Headquarters they passed by a new arcade offering a free play to every customer for its grand opening. Duo had all but dragged an extremely reluctant Heero in to take advantage of the special, only to find out that the other boy had never played a video game before and thus didn't understand their appeal. Much to Heero's embarrassment, Duo spazzed out in the middle of the arcade and promptly dragged him to the nearest electronic store where he spent his paycheck buying two different platforms, the necessary gear, and numerous games. He set everything up as soon as they walked into their little apartment, and shoved a control into Heero's hands. The weekend was spent rotating through the different games, and playing until their fingers became numb. In hindsight, Duo realized he had created a monster; Heero was now thoroughly addicted to video games, and he always won.

 

So when Heero sent Duo's character flying off the screen in an instant KO yet again, Duo kindly suggested they switch to team mode and battle against the computer instead. They played as a pair of sibling plumbers in red and green, against their mortal enemies, another plumber duo dressed similarly in yellow and purple. With Heero as his partner rather than enemy, mercilessly and repeatedly pummeling him into the ground, it was a lot more fun. Yet Duo still found his eyes drooping rebelliously even as he frantically pushed at the buttons, or was occasionally jolted awake again by a sudden violent vibration of the controller in his hands. But eventually even that stopped waking him up, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep where he sat sprawled on the floor with his back leaning against the couch.

 

Several hours later, a particularly bright streak of morning sunlight decided to rudely awaken him by falling across his face. Strange, he purposely arranged his bed in a manner so as to keep that from happening, which meant . . . Duo blinked, and turned his face away from the light to stare up at an unfamiliar ceiling. After a moment, he recognized that it was not his own, and slowly he realized several key facts.

 

The ceiling he was staring at was the living room. The bed he was sleeping on was the couch. The warm soft material thrown over him and the softness his head rested against were a blanket and pillow. Distantly, Duo thought that he should probably be thanking somebody.

 

A series of strange beeps, whistles and whirs sounded from the television, and Duo turned his head again to see Heero on the floor in front of the couch, still playing on the games. The memories of the previous night came rushing back into his sleep mussed head and he gasped slightly, smacking himself on the forehead. Heero didn't even turn to look at the sound, so entranced in his game was he, and Duo noticed he was already dressed. Frowning, he looked at the clock on the wall; it was close to noon.

 

Pouting, he pulled a socked foot out from under the blanket that Heero had probably placed on him during the night after moving his sleeping form from the uncomfortable floor to the decidedly softer couch, and suddenly shoved the man's head to the side. It was perhaps ungrateful, but at least he got the satisfaction of making Heero lose the stage he was playing at; Heero never lost, unless you cheated, and Duo was very good at cheating. As expected, Heero turned to glare at him as the screen emitted a defeated lilt and the screen flashed `game over.'

 

“Sorry,” Duo said with a grin, valiantly trying to keep the laughter from his voice and failing.

 

“No you're not,” Heero replied, turning around and restarting the game in what he would insist was most definitely not a miffed manner, because Heero Yuy did not get miffed; but Duo could smile at the action because he knew better.

 

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And from that night on, that's the way things always played out after Heero had a bad nightmare. He would pad across the hall in the dead of night and knock softly on Duo's door until the braided man found it necessary to drag himself out of bed and open his door. They would sit on the living room floor and play video games until Duo was inevitably conquered by sleep. Then in the morning he would awaken to find himself tucked comfortably on the couch with a cushion under his head and a blanket over his body and promptly give Heero a rude wake up call from his video game trance.

 

That's the way things worked, when Heero had a nightmare.

 

Duo on the other hand had never dared to bother the other man, even when after Heero had come to him first, and kept coming. Duo kept his nightmares and flashbacks to himself. He would get up, change his soaked pajamas, remove the smelly sweat-drenched sheets from his bed, wash his face, then come back to his room, turn on his reading lamp, and pick out one of his favorite books to read until the dawn came. Then he'd get dressed and leave his room to make breakfast for the two of them before they headed off to Preventers Headquarters. Considering Duo never got up out of bed a minute before he absolutely had to, it was easy for Heero to figure out why Duo was out of bed earlier than he was. He never commented about it; although Duo had noticed that Heero would always order them one of his favorites for lunch at the office on those days he walked into the kitchen to find Duo already at the stove.

 

The thought brought a smile to Duo's face, but it didn't last long as he felt a chill run up his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. His nightmare had been vicious and vivid, and its subject matter much too recent for him to shake off as easily as he did war memories or even flashbacks to L2. He had dreamed of the stupid stunt Heero had pulled at the warehouse less than a month ago. But unlike the reality of the situation, the dream event had ended badly; very badly. As in he witnessed his partner, his roommate, the man he had practically admitted to loving in a hospital room not too long ago, dying a very clear and gruesome death via several mercilessly sharp glass panels.

 

Duo shuddered again, and shook his head vigorously to clear the grisly image from his mind. He turned and studied his bookcase, slowly sifting through the titles until he ended up glaring at the last one. He didn't want to read. What he wanted was to see Heero, alive and in one piece. Sighing heavily, he stood up and limped to his door. He squared his shoulders and opened it to stare at the dark door diagonally across from his. He stood there for many long minutes before his feet finally obeyed his command to move and he padded as silently as his limp would allow to his roommate's door, raising his hand, he froze just as it was poised to knock. More silent minutes passed before he finally persuaded the limb to rap so lightly that even he wasn't sure if he had heard it.

 

Before another five seconds passed, Duo lost his nerve and began to limp his way down the hall when he heard the creak of Heero's door. He stopped abruptly, losing his balance and nearly toppling over until a hand on his good shoulder steadied him. He turned to find Heero scowling at him.

 

“Where's your crutch?” he asked dryly, as if to a disobedient child, but his expression softened as he noted the circles under those violet eyes, and the distinctly different night shirt than from earlier that evening.

 

Duo turned away, scratching the bridge of his nose nervously, “It's not like I'm running a marathon . . . but you're probably right, I should be using it. I'm just . . . gonna head back to bed . . . ”

 

He turned to leave, but Heero gently took hold of his hand and stopped him. For an instant Duo was floored with elation, wondering if he was still sleeping and his nightmare had just suddenly turned into a dream. He looked up at Heero and lost himself in the cobalt blue of his eyes.

 

Don't leave, they said.

 

“Up for some video games?” Heero said.

 

Duo finally noticed that Heero was holding a large bundle of sheets under his other arm, and realized that Heero had just had a nightmare as well. He felt the blinding sudden urge to disregard their unspoken agreement and offer some kind of comfort. Soft violet met with piercing cobalt once more, but when Duo opened his mouth, words completely different from those he had planned to say came tumbling out.

 

“I dreamt that you died,” he blurted in a hushed tone, and his eyes widened impossibly at his own stupidity, but he resisted the urge to look away from Heero. Surprise flashed through the cobalt depths; followed by concern and empathy, and something else Duo could still only dare to hope for.

 

“I dreamt the same about you,” Heero responded quietly, squeezing the hand he held in his lightly.

 

The warmth from that gesture traveled through Duo from the tips of fingers to the top of his head and all the way back down to his toes. And he knew in that instant that he couldn't be dreaming, because a dream could not make him feel this warm. He squeezed back gently.

 

“Yea,” his smile was radiant, as he responded to Heero's earlier inquiry, “I'm up for some gaming.”

 

He started limping towards the living room again, and Heero followed him silently, their hands still clasped. They paused for a moment at the bathroom door and Heero haphazardly threw in his soiled sheets before moving on. The usual routine ensued.

 

They sat on the floor in front of the couch, although a lot closer than usual, and popped in the first fighting game, which happened to be the same one from that very first night. Heero enjoyed thoroughly massacring Duo's character for ten minutes before agreeing to switch into team mode. Duo lasted longer than usual in his battle against sleep, beginning to nod off in the middle of his playing only after the light started to peak behind the closed blinds of the living room windows; but as always it was a losing battle.

 

The last snippets of consciousness he remembered involved someone dragging him to his feet, and a long limp down the hall. The room door opened, and he was settled on a soft bed with clean sheets he didn't remember having dressed his bed in. He had mumbled something about no meds when two small pills were pushed past his lips and an insistent glass of water followed soon afterwards, but soft a deep voice told him to stop whining. The last thing that dribbled through his sleep weary mind as he lay down fully on the bed was that the sheets smelled strangely of Heero. Before the thought could alarm him, Duo was wrapped up in soothing warmth as when Heero had squeezed his hand, and he fell into the most peaceful sleep of his life.

 

Several hours later, a particularly bright streak of morning sunlight decided to rudely awaken him by falling across his face. Strange, he purposely arranged his bed in a manner so as to keep that from happening, which meant . . . Duo blinked, and turned his face away from the light to stare up at an unfamiliar ceiling. After a moment, he recognized that it was not his own, and slowly he realized several key facts.

 

The ceiling he was staring at was Heero's. The bed he was sleeping in was Heero's. The arm thrown over his waist and the warm body he was spooned against was Heero. Distantly Duo thought that he should probably be freaking out. Instead the more daring part of him decided to test these very new waters.

 

He scooched over the tiniest bit closer to the body behind him, stopping only when Heero sighed in his sleep and shifted closer as well. He waited a small eternity to make sure he hadn't woken the other man up before finally taking hold of the hand near his waist. He pulled it closer and lightly traced the contours, studying the calluses from years of piloting as well as noting a few small scars. Through it all, Heero stayed relaxed and unresponsive, breath still slow and even in sleep.

 

After sometime of eliciting no reactions from his soft light touches, Duo finally pulled the hand to his lips, gently kissing the newest scar tissue, still pale and tender over one of Heero's knuckles; gained from a stray glass shard during the last assignment. As his eyes began to droop once again in the quiet peace of the room, he folded his hand over Heero's and tucked them both under his chin.

 

He was drifting to sleep when he felt Heero's hand fold around his in return.  A slightly stubbly chin rubbed lightly against his bare shoulder, and when thin lips pressed a soft kiss against the scar left there from the same assignment, Duo decided that he had never felt so warm.

 

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~Owari