Endless Summer Part 14
Breakers, Breaking News, and Twilight Memories

By the time they were almost back to the house, it was coming on dusk. Shadows slid across the sand, and the blood-red setting sun lit up the waves like they were on fire. But Duo wasn't watching the waves. He was sitting with his face buried in Heero's hair. After a hard day of surfing and an afternoon of emotional thrashing, both of them had fallen fast asleep in the back of the car, bathed in dying sunlight.

Wufei looked into the backseat to see Duo lying against the car door with Heero across his lap. The long-haired surfer had his hand resting across the back of Heero's neck. They looked so peaceful, there was no way Wufei could wake them. He could barely look away.

It had been so long since he had seen Heero even relatively happy. Heero was flippant and sarcastic and pretended that nothing ever bothered him, especially around others, but Wufei knew that the death of his family was a burden on Heero's shoulders almost too great to bear. As protective as he sometimes felt over the Japanese boy, he couldn't help but see the effect Duo Maxwell had on him.

Heero Yuy actually cared again.

Wufei looked back at the road. The competition was coming up fast. And when it was over, what would happen between the two of them? He didn't know. He hoped it wasn't what he thought was going to happen. Someone would win... but when Duo left, both of them would lose.

Only when Duo Maxwell got on the plane to go back to California or wherever it was the American was going to roam next, it wouldn't be some stupid trophy and prize money and a sponsorship they would lose. They would lose each other. And Wufei was a realist, but he knew that something so rare and hard to obtain could not be thrown away so lightly. They were just like Quatre and Trowa. Perfect for each other.

He thought of Relena and sighed. Why couldn't women be that easy?

~*~

Wufei parked the woody in back of the house, the side facing the road, noticing that Quatre's pickup was already parked in the gravel to the side of the house. The long car shuddered to a stop, and the change of movement woke the boys in the back. Heero's eyes opened lazily, blue orbs anxious before he realized where he was and who he was with. Duo yawned as Wufei put the car in park, then opened the car door and walked around to the side, opening the door to the backseat.

"We're here. Wake up."

"Five more minutes," Duo mumbled.

Wufei snorted and closed the car door again, heading into the house. Without the sound of Wufei and the car running, the backseat was awfully quiet. Even the sound of the surf was muffled beyond the boundaries of the car. Only their heartbeats seemed loud in the stillness.

Heero let out an almost soundless sigh, settling in Duo's lap, head in Duo's lap, facing towards him. His eyes were still closed. He looked damned comfortable. Comfortable enough to stay in said position for quite awhile. Duo wondered what the others would think they were doing out here if they didn't make an appearance soon, and blushed.

"We gotta get out of the car, Heero."

"Hn."

Duo smiled a little, decided Heero's idea that everyone else could take a flying fuck at the moon was a pretty steady philosophy to adopt, then closed his eyes and leaned against the car door. The setting sun shone through the window on them both, with a tropical warmth that threatened to lull them both back to sleep.

But Duo couldn't go back to sleep, no matter how comfortable he was or how much he wanted to. Every time he closed his eyes now, now that he remembered where he was and what had happened, the image of the drowned guy on the Pipeline was burned there in his brain, like an ominous brand.

"Heero... man... I'm serious... we've gotta get up."

Heero moved forward on Duo's lap without opening his eyes and placed a gentle kiss on Duo's tanned stomach as an answer. Then nipped lightly with his teeth. Duo groaned, his voice soft. "Oh, Heero..."

As if Wufei had read their minds, an irate voice bellowed across the yard from the house:

"IF YOU TWO ARE DOING ANYTHING BUT SLEEPING IN MY CAR, I WILL BRING DISHONOR UPON YOUR CHILDREN'S CHILDREN, YUY!"

Heero froze as if someone had slapped him, eyes opening in surprise. Duo burst out laughing.

"I think that's our cue to go in the house," Duo said, smiling softly now. It was a little easier to deal with the death of someone he didn't know if he was living with and loving those he did know. When Heero buried his face against Duo's stomach in silent protest at having to move, the braided surfer laughed from the tickling of Heero's hair against his skin.

Heero sighed, then pushed upright and opened the door, kicking it wide before slipping out of the car, seeming to shake comfort off himself like a dog. Duo scooted across the seats and followed him as they both headed up the drive, a mix of sand and gravel crunching under their bare feet.

Baka flew from around the side of the house and jumped at Heero, tailing whipping in ecstasy over the return of his master. Heero leaned down and patted the dog's sides for a moment before he walked up on the porch, leaving the petting of Baka to Duo, who tried to greet the dog without being plastered with slobbery kisses. It was a chore.

Heero poked his head through the front door. The rich smell of cooking fish filled the small house. "Yo! Who's home?"

"Heero!" Quatre shouted back. "We're in the living room!"

Heero and Duo walked through the house into the living room. Wufei and Quatre were sitting on the long worn couch. Both had plates of fish and rice on their knees. They looked up as Heero and Duo came in. Baka came in and sprawled across the soft rug in front of the television, head resting on his paws, soulful brown eyes following the hip-hop artists in a Dr. Pepper commercial with interest.

Duo looked at the full living room, then back at Heero, raising an eyebrow in good humor. "Heero, how many people actually live here?"

Heero looked back over at him, a bemused expression on his face. "It changes from day to day. I've lost count."

Trowa walked into the living room a moment later, precariously balancing three plates of food in his hands. He held two of them out to Duo and Heero. "Here. Eat. I caught them today over the reefs. They're announcing news about the Billabong Pro on ESPN. And on the local station."

Duo accepted the plate of fish gratefully, hoping it wasn't shark.

He sat in one of the armchairs, while Heero sat in the last free spot on the couch. Trowa sat down with his own food in the other armchair. The boys dug into the fish and rice, which was disappearing at an alarming rate. Duo, for his part, discovered he was ravenous from the minute the first bite hit his mouth.

"Trowa, you didn't have to cook, "Heero grumbled, but his stomach had quite a different opinion. The smell of the lemon fish and rice and garlic was delicious, and he suddenly realized that he hadn't eaten since a light breakfast before they went out to surf the morning tide.

"Heero, if you don't eat my fish, then who is going to?"

"You could feed half of Hawaii the way you fish, Trowa."

"And you don't eat well enough."

"Sorry, mother. I'll try to be more careful," Heero replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Will you two morons shut up?" Wufei growled. "It's coming on."

The ESPN logo appeared on the TV, then dissolved into breaking news. A slim, pretty Asian reporter stared back at them.

"Good afternoon. Topping our breaking news in the world of sports, a drowning death on the Pipeline in beautiful Oahu, where the Billabong Pro surfing competition is scheduled to be held tomorrow, has threatened to cancel the competition. The surfer involved, an Australian native named Jake Hornsby, was one of the competitors--"

"I didn't know that," Quatre said quietly.

"They can't cancel the competition!" Wufei said indignantly. "It isn't fair! What about all those who have trained to compete?!"

"Shut up, Wufei," Trowa said, his curt voice nothing like his usually gentle, soft murmur. Wufei gave him a surprised look, opened his mouth to say something else, but he sheepishly closed it and did as he was told.

"-the embassy is having trouble locating the surviving family of Hornsby and hopes that through this broadcast and the broadcasts of other stations, family will be found to claim the body of the drowned surfer. In the meantime, Billabong officials and local authorities have postponed the contest indefinitely until further notice and more information on the accident is gathered. It is believed at this time that riptides are responsible for Hornsby's death, and officials state that news on the fate of the competition should be forthcoming in the next week. We'll now take you to local coverage of the incident."

The picture switched to a live-report from the Pipeline, where the beach had been closed. In the background, Heero could see the red flags flying. Red flags flew a majority of the time on Pipeline. It never stopped anyone from surfing there.

Yellow police tape circled the area where the surfer's body had been brought up on shore, and a group of policemen nearby. The report switched to tape. Heero bristled when he saw local reporter Everend Walker stick a microphone in the face of Officer Milliardo Peacecraft, who seemed resigned to dealing with the media.

Baka saw the familiar reporter come onto the screen, and he was immediately on his feet, hackles raised, snarling.

"Quiet, idiot dog! Sit back down! You're blocking the television!" Wufei hissed, and Baka sank back to the rug, still growling softly.

"Officer Peacecraft, is there any indications that you've seen that this death is in any way related to the competition? Maybe a little rivalry taken too far?"

"That is nonsense," Milliardo answered promptly, emotion slipping through his blank face. The mask of a cop being interviewed. Heero saw a spark of contempt showing through that carefully neutral expression. Milliardo hated Walker as much as Heero did. Milliardo glared at the camera. Heero recognized that expression, now. It was his 'what a fucking mess' expression.

"This was an accident, nothing more. A coincidence that unfortunately had to parallel the competition. We post red flags at this beach for a reason. We cannot be held responsible if local surfers and non-natives do not follow the warnings."

"There hasn't been a drowning on Oahu in four years. You were present for the last drowning at Oahu two years ago when almost an entire family, the Yuys, drowned when their charter boat was overturned in tropical storm Anna. What are your thoughts on the parallels between this tragedy and that one, Officer Peacecraft?"

"There is no parallel between the deaths of the Yuys and the death of Jake Hornsby. Hornsby was killed by his decision to surf in dangerous waters despite the warnings posted that such waters are for advanced surfers only. The Yuys were killed by a freak storm and bad luck." Milliardo's voice was growing steadily softer and more dangerous.

Duo looked over at Heero sitting next to him. Heero stared at the TV so hard, Duo was surprised it hadn't burst into flames. He didn't seem outwardly upset. His expression was emotionless, as if he didn't know who they were talking about. But his jaw was clenched. And he couldn't tell in the glow from the TV screen, but he thought Heero was shaking with either fury or grief.

On the screen, Walker gave Milliardo a piercing look as the camera swung back to two-shot. "Speaking of bad luck, what about the arrival of surfing champion Duo Maxwell, Officer Peacecraft? You don't think this death is related in any way to the entry of Shinigami in the competition?"

"Jesus, when are they going to give it up?!" Wufei cried in exasperation, throwing his hands up.

"Don't worry about it, Wuff. Walker is an asshole of the first degree," Duo said, his voice quiet. "It's okay. Really."

Milliardo's expression was openly disgusted, now. He looked at Walker as someone would look at a pile of dogshit on the sidewalk. "I don't believe in such stupid bonfire stories and surfer lore, Walker. I cannot sympathize with anyone who would. Duo Maxwell was not even present at Pipeline during the time of the drowning. This is an unfortunate accident that cannot be tied to anything regarding either Duo Maxwell or the Billabong Pro. No further comments." Milliardo stalked off-camera.

Walker's gaze switched back to the camera, a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. "There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Jake Hornsby, Australian native and contender for the crown, victim of circumstance? Or victim to a dark surfing legend that has haunted international coastlines for years. You decide. This is Everend Walker for The Atoll and WOCN. Back to you, Hiao."

Trowa grabbed the remote and shut the TV off. The silence following the broadcast was loud.

"What a prick," Quatre said quietly, brow furrowed in anger.

"It's okay, Quatre," Duo replied. "We already know."

"I'm heading home," Wufei said abruptly. Heero could tell by the stiff set of his shoulders and his angry, flashing black eyes that he was still furious over the broadcast. And then he was gone as if he had never been there, the screen door banging against the frame. Baka watched him leave, then was immediately over to the couch where Wufei left his dirty plate, licking up the remains of the rice and fish with gusto.

"We had better do the same," Trowa said softly, giving Quatre a meaningful look. He took his plate and Quatre's into the kitchen and rinsed them off before putting them in the dishwasher. He came back into the living room and put his arm around the smaller Arabian's shoulders. "We'll see the both of you tomorrow, Heero. Duo. Good night."

"You too, guys."

"Thanks for dinner, Trowa," Heero added. He got up and gathered dishes, wresting Wufei's from Baka, who gave up and went onto the back porch to sleep. He took them into the kitchen, putting them in the sink.

As soon as the three of them were gone, Duo and Heero looked at each other, neither saying a word. Duo got up and sank down next to Heero, who threw an arm around him without thinking twice about it. Heero unraveled Duo's hair carefully, untangling the plaits, running his fingers through it thoughtfully. Finally, he tilted Duo's face towards him, looking into the Californian's violet eyes.

"Do you even know...?" Heero whispered, expression confused.

"Know what?" Duo asked softly, scooting up until his nose brushed Heero's.

"How beautiful you are. You-"

Duo shook his head, then kissed Heero, cutting off his words, words that would ruin the moment, handcuff the memory for him, and he didn't want that. He wanted something to erase the reporter's words. There wasn't any need to speak.

"Don't talk about it, Heero. I know enough. Don't talk about anything. Let's just go to bed. Okay?" Duo whispered, kissing the line of Heero's jaw softly. The Japanese boy's arms tightened around him.

~*~

The sex was good, even though neither of them said a word. It was silent and passionate and somehow desperate. But for some reason, Heero couldn't drift away easily when it was over, like he had in the past few times he had slept with Duo.

Before, he had slipped into sleep, finally content with himself and his life. But now, he laid in the darkness, molded to Duo's back as he held the long-haired boy in his arms, listening to the sound of Duo's deep, steady breathing as the Californian slept, exhausted, melting into Heero's strong embrace.

Heero thought about his family. No matter what anyone said, he couldn't understand why he had been left behind. What made him worthy to keep living? Why was he chosen to survive? Why not Mary? Why not any of them?

When Duo twitched in a nightmare, Heero drove his own thoughts away, kissing the back of Duo's head reassuringly, his hand flat against Duo's stomach, arm curled around his side. Duo quieted, stilling in his arms.

Sometime later, because he was tired and because no matter what he thought, sleep always came for him, Heero drifted off. Light sleep, images of his family played in his mind like snapshot photographs in a slide-show.

He imagined over and over again that he was not thrown against the corals, that he did not let go in the shock of pain and surprise, that Mary's hand did not slip from his under the water, that it held tight in the undulating darkness of the waves. So tight. And that for the tragedy of his parents' deaths, he would have had someone left. Someone. He had not had a chance to save them. But he could have saved her. Still, it didn't happen that way, no matter how many ways he imagined things could have been different.

Eventually, he fell into a deeper sleep, where he moved as close to Duo as he could. And he did not dream at all.

TBC...

 

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