Author: A-chan

Pairings: 1x2

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Angst, sap (but more angst)

Disclaimer: GW does not belong to me.

Summary: This fic is divided into sections, which are scenes that I feel highlight Heero and Duo's affair, whether good or bad. The overall feel of this fic is different than my norm. Hard to describe how though.

Author's Note: Yay, I wrote something!!!!! ^__________________^ Last time I did was like July of last year or something.

I actually think this fic is better written than most of my other ones, though lacking slightly in plot in my opinion. Hope to enjoy anyway though!

Loving Protection

Making a Scene~

It was cold; much more so than he'd expected from this time of the year -- even though it was the dead of night. He winced, mostly out of surprise, as an exceptionally strong wind threatened to deprive him of the overcoat he hugged close to his wiry body. Jagged bangs, drenched from the rain, danced before his eyes, hampering his vision as he rounded the corner of a nameless run-down street.

At first he thought it was the wind that tugged at the braid flying behind him, but a gruff male voice, marred by the distinct influence of alcohol, quickly put that idea to absurdity.

"I dreamed 'boutcha las' night, angel."

His boyish, decidedly attractive face twisted into a pinched mask of fury, and he didn't even turn around fully before leaving the man in a boneless, moaning heap on the dirty ground.

"Well keep on dreamin'," he snarled. This was getting old.

Another block, and he found himself interrupted from his thoughts for the second time that hour. Though this time, the interruption was anything but unwelcome.

"Duo." It was truly amazing how such a simple word seemed to explode with meaning when spoken by the right voice.

"Yo!" he greeted the approaching form of his comrade and friend, irritatingly dry under the canopy of his umbrella. "Oh wait." He mock-gasped. "It's supposed to be 'Konban wa, oh unfamiliar stranger', ne Heero?" he teased with an exaggerated bow and sparkling amethyst eyes.

"Duo..." The tone was warning this time. "You'll catch your death out here if you keep being stupid." The Japanese boy continued to regard him intently.

"Ch'." He flipped back his yard-long braid and started to make a face, but stopped to grin impishly. "Oi, didja come all the way here just to stare at me?"

His companion snorted and turned his heels. "No, I wanted to make sure you got that computer chip, and didn't die of pneumonia and waste your efforts." He eyed the American stonily. "You *do* have it, right?"

Duo sighed. "When will you ever have any confidence in me?" he griped. "But, yeah, I have it." His expression turned mischievous. Latching onto Heero's left arm in imitation of 'Jousan, he batted long eyelashes at his partner. "You were worried, weren't you, Heeeee-chan?!" He positively purred.


"You *were*, weren't you?!" he giggled triumphantly, falling in step with Heero. He even went as far as lean his head against the other's shoulder, and his heart flew when he wasn't pushed away despite the signs of 'affection in public'. Never mind that they were the only ones on the street at this time of night.


If Heero hadn't already known better from past experiences, he would have taken the light brush of Duo's hand against his thigh to be mere accidental contact. But that was not the case. He knew as well as anyone that the American had absolute control of his body, and it did nothing unintended.

Meeting bright violet only confirmed it; they were liquid pools of seduction, half lidded and carrying the familiar mist of suggestion that only appeared when Duo wanted *that*.

Heero had to keep himself from smirking, but was unable to prevent his rise in temperature -- something only Duo could induce. And there he was, reclining against the headboard of their bed, long legs splayed as he ran a towel through glistening mahogany silk; innocent as ever. Duo did not have to say a word to beckon to his partner, but it was inevitable that Heero answer his call.

Just a few minutes, he promised himself as he buried his face in the fragrant neck, arched back in offering. They wouldn't go too far. Just enough for him to satisfy the craving gnawing at his mind and keeping him from concentrating on something other than the delicious, willing body beneath his. All he needed was to feel those slender hips rolling against his, just for a minute.

But one look at the sweet, angelic face beaming at him with satisfaction was all it took to remind Heero that reluctant, half-hearted promises -- especially when made to oneself-- were meant to be broken.

A long time later, a husky, impassioned voice panted in his ear.

"I love you."

He couldn't reply, so he did his usual. He didn't say anything at all.


It really shouldn't bother me that much, Duo repeated insistently to himself. It shouldn't bother him that although he always made sure that Heero knew of his feelings while the stoic Wing pilot never said anything in return. It shouldn't bother him that he was forced to live a relationship in which he wasn't sure if his partner returned his feelings.

Duo sighed and turned off the shower. Forced? He stepped out of the stall and began to towel his body half-heartedly. He let out a mocking breath as he lifted his gaze to his own reflection. The only forcing in their relationship was done by himself on himself. His feelings and attachment to a certain statuesque, cold-hearted, undeniably sexy L1 orphan was what tied him to Heero with a bond stronger than the alloy used to construct their gundams.

It was just that Heero always seemed to perk up a lot more when Rel -- no, he wouldn't think of that.

He sighed again heavily, raked a thin hand through disheveled bangs, and told himself he was a hypocritical moron.


Neither had expected her show up at their current school -- what's more, *at their door*, her persistent little voice demanding to see Heero. It made Duo grit his teeth. Just as he opened his mouth to tell her that no, she could not see Heero, as he was busy and could not be disturbed, his lover stepped out from the inner room and announced that he would talk to her.

As the Wing pilot led 'Jou-san out to the corridor, the partially smug, entirely pleased (no doubt with herself, Duo thought bitterly) expression on her classy, sophisticated face made the American want to wipe it *off*. Instead, he just propelled himself into the bedroom away from the sight.

Heero later found his lover standing with his back turned in the middle of their room for no apparent reason, obviously tense. Duo was always like this after one of Relena's visits. He sighed.

"I have to protect her, Duo. You know that."

//What does that have to do with what you did just now?// "Never mind," he waved it off, habit forcing his facial muscles into familiar cheer. But the expression did not reach his eyes. "This is unfair of me." The meaning behind those reassuring words rang hallow.

Heero's eyes were distant, as if staring *through* him instead of at. "I would die for her," he said a minute later quite firmly, knowing the full effect the statement would have on Duo but needing to make it clear.

"I understand," was the simple, cold reply. So unlike the American's usual cheer.

He walked behind the other and placed his hands on the tense shoulders, lips on the graceful neck. "Thank you," he said, and failed to notice his lover's eyes close in defeat.


"I love you."

Heero jerked awake, eyes wide and hand reaching for his gun reflexively. What had--

He relaxed and leaned heavily against the seat back of his gundam, puzzled. It was the dead of night. He was in the middle of a remote Chinese forest, awaiting orders. There was no way Duo could've found him out here, but why would he hear the American despite Duo's absence?

He frowned. Dr. J had warned him about this in training, of how someone could occupy your thoughts so fully that you even heard them in sleep. Heero shifted slightly in his reclined seat. He was sure there was no way for him to go back to sleep now; he never could after being startled awake like that. And by himself moreover.

He flicked open the cockpit door and maneuvered his seat so that his upper body was outside. He squinted as he gazed at the full moon. It was especially clear after a whole day of rain. And the air was cool, evidence of the transition between summer and fall. This always reminded him of Duo somehow -- a clear full moon in early September. Probably because it was right around that time that L2 could be seen directly in line with the moon, casting a rather odd-looking shadow on its cratered, dull surface.

Heero snorted and shifted again -- he couldn't seem to get into a more comfortable position. He was sure in his mind that he was extremely attached to Duo, quite possibly even loved him. All the more reason why he couldn't understand what kept him from saying that to anyone but himself; there was an invisible force that kept him from opening his mouth when Duo always said it to *him*.

"I want you."

"I need you."

"I love you."

They seemed like such simple words and were really quite easy to say in solitude. So why couldn't he say them to Duo?

His frown turned to a fierce scowl, but as to whom the discontentment was directed at was uncertain.

One day though, he assured himself, he would at least say *something* to Duo, something to show him that he was not alone in his feelings.

With that thought in mind, Heero Yuy closed his eyes and slept.

Endless Waltz~

December 31st, 196

Duo watched with his heart in his throat as the white angel of death soared overhead to suicide.

"Iyada," he choked, the gagging little sound pathetic even to his own ears. "Iya..."

He heard Quatre's cry from the comm. unit, faintly as if he was a million miles away. "Duo!"

A blast from an enemy mobile suit shook Deathscythe's entire frame, but he could barely feel it, eyes fixated on the shape of Heero's gundam stalling in mid-air. He was taking aim with his double beam cannon even as missiles were shot at him in every direction. The American prayed that one hit was enough to destroy Mariemeia's base. Because he knew, they all knew, that Wing Zero, in all its magnificence, could only take two fires of that magnitude, three if its pilot really pushed it and used every last bit of energy in the gundam.

The great flash of light that followed stopped movements even on Duo's battleground, several kilometers away. Objects and buildings seemed to vaporize under the tremendous heat and energy emitted by the cannon.

A sharp little intake of breath slipped past Duo's lips when he saw the outline of Zero through the dust and debris, steadying itself in mid-air and raising its deadly weapon again.

Another flash of bright light filled his vision. Only this time, the explosion knocked out all the mobile suits on his battlefield with the exception of the gundams. His fingers blurred over the controls on Deathscythe's control board and a zoomed-in image of Wing Zero appeared on the screen before him. Zero's left arm was gone, and half its leg was missing.

Duo swore when he realized Dekim Barton's shield still held up, though reduced to a much weaker form. But there was still enough of it left to...

No! his mind screamed even as his mouth clenched furiously. He opened the comm. link between Deathscythe and Zero. Heero was staring straight at him, as if he'd expected the link. His face was devoid of any readable expression as he uttered words that silenced Duo better than any beam cannon.

"I have to protect her ideals, if not her. Good-bye, Duo." The screen went blank and Duo's hand slipped from the control panel.


February 30st, 197

Duo sat before his black microwave, watching lethargically as his lunch spun around on the glass tray. He regarded his darkened reflection on the door and frowned. There were black circles around his eyes, and the thinness of his cheeks made him look gaunt. All because he hadn't been able to sleep with the thought of a fallen war hero on his mind.

A month, a fucking month.

According to the news broadcasts, the Wing pilot had been checked into one of the Darlian family's private hospitals soon after Mariemeia's defeat, but had disappeared after only nine days. The obvious question in this was, of course, what had happened to Heero (since it was said that he wasn't exactly in peak condition when the missing person alarm had first sounded). And if he was alive, what, or who, could be so high on the Wing pilot's priority list that Heero felt the need to break out of the hospital after hardly a sufficient stay to take care of it?

He groaned and ran long fingers through tousled bangs, trying to get them into some semblance of neatness.

"It's not healthy to sit in front of a microwave, you know."

Duo leapt out of his perch and stood blinking at the apparition leaning against the doorframe of his kitchen, the one that for over a month he was sure he would never see again.

"It emits microwaves -- hence the name -- that are harmful to your brain."

Duo let out puff of air that could have been considered a laugh and allowed a rueful little grin to curve his lips. "I personally don't believe that," he played along. "There wasn't a microwave within a five mile radius of me when I was a kid, but I'm still pretty brain-dead." For thinking you of all people could've died.

His visitor began to approach him, heavily bandaged, slightly burned, but in one piece. "Maybe not so much as you think. My laptop's still here. The lube, too." Heero knew his thoughts too well.

Duo hid his face in the crook of his lover's neck to hide his growing flush. He felt Heero's strong arms encircle his waist and cling to him, and the American reveled in the hint of desperation in Heero's embrace.

"Don't ever go dying on me again, Heero Yuy," he whispered harshly.

Heero snorted and released him to look him in the face. "If I wanted to do that, I wouldn't have taken all that trouble during the past few weeks to make sure I stayed alive enough to come back." His expression softened and he gripped Duo's chin. "Death is the cowardly way out, after you've run out of good things to live for. I still have one left." His voice was as monotonous as ever, his words frank, but Duo had never heard anything so beautiful.

An expression of surprise and joy lit up the American's face for the first time in much too long. There they were, the words he had longed to hear, even more than "I love you". To know that, well, that he was truly that important to Heero, and that his worries about Relena -- about anything -- had been unfounded.

Because for her, Heero would die. But for him...

For him, Heero would live.

Duo smiled, content.



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