Warnings: None really, mild cursing, m/m lip-action, shonen ai, sappy, sappy,
sappy, maybe PG-13.
Disclaimer: In my dreams, and only there, are they mine. I make no money
off these feeble attempts at literature. Nor is infringement of the legal
owners' rights intended.
Notes: Heero POV, set c. AC202/203.
And the Wind, It Whispers
Poetic. That's what he says I am, personally I don't think so. No. More
specifically -- I know I'm not. I looked it up and as far as I'm concerned, I
definitely do not qualify for the title. According to the latest version of
the New American Heritage Dictionary to be poetic is to show the feelings
or sensibility of a poet; to evoke, by writing or expression, an emotional
response and to illuminate aspects of the emotional and perceptual worlds
inexpressible in factual writings; possessing the peculiar beauties of
poetry. Definitely not me. A bit off center, probably. A little crazy,
most likely. But days like today make me think about it. Make me remember
all those moments I've told him about, the moments that make him call me
Today is perfect for one of those moments and I know, without a doubt, it
will happen again. The sun is shining. There's an almost constant breeze.
The leaves are swaying gently on their branches, as if the wind were a huge
invisible hand running through them. Hair and shirts and daisy-print dresses
are being pulled back and forth, dancing at the command of the wind. A force
that has often spoken to me.
* * * * * AC195 * * * * *
"It's pretty obvious to anyone that you're the bad guy here. Are you alright
Son of a bitch, who is this guy. Relena rushes to my side to see if I'm
alright. My injuries don't matter, I need to finish what I started. I'll get
the gun back and get rid of them both. I lunge for it. He shoots me again!
"Don't over do it, remember you're injured."
"Stop it! What do you want to shoot him for?"
I'm down, but not out. My shoulder and thigh are burning like the fires of
hell, but if I do this right I should be able to reach the torpedoes before
he realizes what I'm doing. I can barely tell where he's standing because
her blue dress is swirling between us.
"Hey wait a minute." She's trying to dress my wounds. I look for a way to
accomplish my mission. "Great, how come I end up as the bad guy here?"
Tough luck, buddy, for some odd reason this girl likes me.
A commotion draws her attention. "What in the world is that?"
I hear him tell her to look away. There's a near-blinding flash of light. I
take my chance.
"Ya haven't had enough?" He's shooting at me again, the gun-crazy psycho. I
make it to the torpedoes.
"It's my mobile suit!" I yell, as if that makes any difference to him. I jam
the firing mechanism and we fly through the air.
"What're you doing you fool?"
My suit, no -- there's two of them -- the suits break the surface of the water
as the torpedoes race to meet them. "Finally everything is finished. Mission
"Noooooo!" His scream rips its way through the thundering in my ears as I
fall to the water, expecting the end.
Before I lose consciousness, the wind whispers to me..
You'll meet again.
"Time out. Oi! You little monsters, I said time out! Off! Off I say!" He
stands heaving a breath, a pillar of manliness -- perhaps childishness would
be more appropriate. There are at least two little monsters attached to each
leg, one hanging from an arm, another tugging on his shirt. He's in
He flashes me his widest grin and a triumphant victory sign with his free
hand, all the while trying to remain standing. "Oi, back off a minute guys,
I need a moment." He throws his hands out to his sides, creating an
imaginary barrier as his little monsters release him.
"What's wrong Mister Duo?" That's Eric, the spokesman for the 4 to 6 group.
We have to introduce him to Relena, he'll make a great politician when he
He heaves another breath and waves off the concern. "It's nothin' little
man, just gotta fix the 'do." He begins to rebraid the wealth of silk that
flows from his head. "Hey and I thought I told'ya no Mister for me? I'm just
Duo to you guys."
"But Misto Duo, Sisto Wageena sai we hafta call oda peepo Misto and Mam"
That one's Emily, only just turned five but quickly climbing the ranks of
authority to be Eric's second in command. Another protégé for our
"Ah, I see." He nods sagely. "But let me let'cha in on a little secret." He
ties off the end of the braid and crouches down, waving them all closer
while looking around conspiratorially, "I'm not really OLD. I'm just BIG.
There's a difference you know, being old and being big. So." he
conspicuously looks around again "since I'm not old you don't have to call
me 'mister'. Just don't tell anybody OK? Cause if they figure it out they'll
make me move in with you guys and." That earns him a chorus of yays and
giggling and lots of hopping. "Un, un, un. If that happens Heero and I won't
be able to bring you treats anymore. Right Heero?" He looks over with -- if
at all possible -- an even wider grin.
All attention turns to me now, hope clearly written on their faces. If it
weren't for the fact that I'm still holding a soundly sleeping Lacey, I
think they would have rushed me to get either confirmation or denial. I nod,
slowly but clearly. The crowd is not so enthusiastic anymore. A few of the
younger ones are now clasping their hands over their mouths, hiding their
tiny o-shaped lips, little bodies twisting slightly as their gazes travel
from one to the other of us.
"Tell ya what." He waves them closer again and they begin to whisper. The
older ones wisely look around to make sure they're not being monitored
before they crowd a little closer too.
* * * * * AC201 * * * * *
He hops up on the porch railing in front of me and stretches like a cat -
cracking his back in the process. He's been working in the yard all
afternoon and has streaks of dark soil on his shorts, t-shirt and face from
just below the bangs to the corner of his jaw. The Summer is making a last
ditch effort to remind us of it's power, but the heat is tempered by the
impending Fall's breezes.
"Think I'm gonna call Money-bags now. It should be about 9 o'clock L4 time,
even a big-boss like him should be in, don't you think. You gonna come and
say hello?" He takes a long drink from the cooler of water we have out on
"Duo, you know he hates it when you call him Money-bags. Why do you insist
on doing it?" I take the offered cooler and quench my thirst as well.
"Cause it makes him blush." He flashes me a devilish grin. "And plus, Heero,
if you can't tease your friends about how much money they've got who're you
gonna tease. I can't go doing that at Relena's parties. Those old fogies'd
have a coronary and where, may I ask, would that leave the Princess of
As I muse over the ubiquitous, and questionable, titles he's bestowed upon
all of us a small garden shovel materializes from his back pocket and he
brings it to his mouth like a microphone. 'We interrupt this program to
bring you this late breaking news: The esteemed Senator from Farfegnuggen
died of a massive heart attack at the Charity Banquet held this evening by
Vice Foreign Minister Relena Dorlin. Witnesses state that a dashing young
man had recently been seen in the vicinity discussing their fortunes with
several of the Senators in attendance. More details as the story develops!'
I playfully thwack him with a left-over piece of hose from the project I'd
been working on, but can't help laughing at the absurdities he comes up
"Ouchies! You don't haf'ta get abusive you know, I'm in serious danger of
some head trauma here." He rubs dramatically at the 'injured' area.
"Well then stop fooling around." I tell him, then shoot him a questioning
glance. "Weren't you gonna call Quatre?" I turn back to cleaning up the mess
"Yeah, yeah. just having a little fun first." He stands but doesn't move
towards the door yet. "Hey, Heero, you don't think he'll mind, do ya? I
mean, this isn't the first time I've asked for help for the Sisters, but it'
ll probably be a lot more involved and. expensive. I mean the whole idea is
to have his company fund these little 'outings' things for like. I don't
know. forever, maybe. You think he'll go for that?"
Hn. Still so unsure of yourself and how strongly your friends support you
and your causes. Especially Quatre, the man never could turn down one of Duo
's heartfelt requests. "Knowing Quatre, no he won't mind. Remember, he's
been to the home and he's very impressed with what the nuns are doing for
those kids. And if you ask nicely I'm sure he can help you word your
proposal to Relena for the next time we see her. Maybe we can get her to
present it to some of those corporate 'fogies' she knows. You never know,
Duo, your dream might become a reality."
"Yeah, that'd be pretty cool, huh? Big companies all over the world and the
colonies footing the bill, one Saturday a month, it'd really make a
difference in those kids lives. I mean, think about it Heero, if Q can start
the ball rolling in the colonies and Relena can convince some people
planet-side, it could spread like wild-fire. There'd be orphanages and youth
centers getting help all over the place."
His eyes have gone wide with imaginings, sight focused inward. Big plans.
Plans that would provide hundreds of children a life better than the one he
had. A life full of hope for those whose families have little to offer them
or who have no families at all. I approach him and use the edge of my shirt
to wipe away the sweat and soil still evident on his face as the wind helps
move his hair out of the way.
I squeeze his shoulder lightly in a show of support. "Why don't you go call
Quatre. I'm gonna finish cleaning up out here and I'll be there in a
He graces me with a genuine smile and a brief nod. "Good idea. Thanks babe
and uh, don't take too long, OK." He brushes a kiss along my cheek and heads
for the nearest vid-phone.
I store the tools in the shed and head back to join my lover, my best
friend, my happiness, my hope. But before I reach the door, I turn to
acknowledge it; because the wind, it reminds me.
I hear someone approaching from behind, probably one of the staff come to
I look over my shoulder to acknowledge her presence. "Hi Jenny, is it time
"Nah, just came to check on you guys. Make sure you're doing OK. Who'd he
tire out today?" Standing just behind me she peers over my shoulder to see
who Duo's latest victim is. "Aw, poor Lacey, guess she just can't keep up
with him yet."
"Hmm, not yet. Give her a little time though, she'll be matching him step
for step soon enough."
She nods her concurrence. It usually takes the newest members of the age
group a few weeks to get used to his stamina. The youngest ones always get
tired and fall asleep on their first few outings with him. By the third or
fourth outing, they're ready. As for my role in all this, I'm the resident
cradle. When they get tired and start rubbing their eyes; I get to carry
them until they've replenished their energy.
Howls of glee pull our attention back to the small crowd assembled a few
feet away. Duo has risen from the group like a phoenix reborn, children
dangling from his limbs, others lying at his feet unable to control their
laughter. He swings them around, drops them to the ground; tickles, teases
and tackles them.
"What exactly are we playing today?" Jenny squats beside me and moves to
relieve me of my charge.
"Some combination of freeze tag, hot potato and. uh. rugby? I suppose." She
stands and settles Lacey in her arms. I follow her lead and stretch muscles
that have gone stiff from sitting too long in the same position. "How long
do we have?"
We forego eye contact to watch the scene unfolding before us, a sight so
full of joy and beauty it cannot easily be ignored.
"Well, Sister Regina wants to be back before sunset. We need about an hour
to feed them, half an hour for the potty-stop and to get them on the bus and
half an hour to get home. So. about 30 minutes more, can you manage
Can I manage it? Hn, as if she needs to ask. "Nimnu ryuokai." I have my plan
in place as I step out of the shade I'd been enjoying.
"At the picnic tables down by the shore, Heero. See ya' there." I wave over
my shoulder, not bothering to look back.
"All right guys." I announce as I approach the group still rolling around on
the ground. "Five minutes before we head out. Dinner's being served."
I hear a quietly inquiring 'Five mintues?' from behind me.
Shock runs through the group before the groaning and pleading begins. "Aw,
that's not enough time Mr. Heero!" "No fair! We're not done playin' yet!"
"But we're having too much fun." "I doen wanna go now Misto Eewo." "I'm not
hungry Mr. Heero, is it OK if I stay here and play with Duo."
They are latching themselves on to me now in an attempt to sway me, make me
change my mind, but I have yet to hear the clinching argument. I'm waiting
for it, waiting.
"Aw c'mon Heero, we were havin' so much fun!" Since he is now free of all
but one little monster, his hands go automatically to his hips and he
pouts -- oh, and he pouts with the best of them. "Hee~ro, do we really haf'ta
go now? It feels like we just got here!"
The others, surrounding me or hanging from whatever part of me they can
reach, jump on the band wagon. They are hopping up and down with almost
enough force to make me lose my balance. A disjointed chorus of 'please'
fills the air. I feign resistance. I wait, just a little longer, until all
the puppy dog eyes have made their appearances. The blue-violet ones do me
in. I capitulate.
"OK guys, fifteen minutes. But no more!" I say with conviction.
"Yay!" "Aw-wight Misto Eewo" "Woohoo!" "C'mon Mist. uh, c'mon Duo, let's
I catch what appears to be a quiet chuckle behind me and I wonder, did Jenny
stick around to listen to this or is the wind now laughing at me? Before I
figure it out they've abandoned me and are tackling him to the ground again.
Before he goes down he winks at me. The charade is on.
Fifteen minutes will pass before I make the next departure announcement.
Additional pleas for more time will follow, requiring a slightly longer
period of negotiation. It will end in me granting an additional 'five
minutes'. In reality five minutes will stretch to ten before I make my last
stand. Followed by a not-so-hasty retreat which will require a good five
minutes to organize.
I retreat to my place in the shade. To watch. And to remember.
* * * * * AC196 * * * * *
"There's no way we can catch that." I shoot a glance at you from the corner
of my eye. "They're heading for the space port." You confirm what I already
suspect. The air gusts again and without turning I see your braid swinging
behind us, your bangs fluttering across the binoculars. "Seem to be in an
awful rush for somebody trying to get to earth?"
Have you not made the connection yet or is it just wishful thinking? "That's
because they're trying to escape."
You pull the binoculars down, eyes going wide, and turn to me. "Escape?"
Your full attention is on me now. "Then why'd they even bother to take over
"Hn." You're not stupid, Duo, you just don't want to admit what might be
"C'mon Heero. Remember, she is Treize's daughter after all."
Why is it so much easier to accept that what's happening is only because of
her connection to Treize. This isn't his style, anyway.
"I'm more concerned about the man known as Dekim. I remember the name Dekim
Barton from somewhere."
Somewhere, yeah right. I still can't look at you though. It hurts too much
to consider the possibilities.
"They can't be serious! They're really planning to go ahead with Operation
The helicopter's well out of visual range. They are definitely heading to
the space port. I finally look at you. I need you to understand that I must
do this. "Yeah, but I'll do all I can to stop them."
You, on the other hand, don't have to. I don't want you to come with me.
What am I thinking? You'd no sooner leave me on my own in this, than I would
The artificial wind gusts past the rooftop we stand on. Now whipping
furiously at our clothes, pulling at our hair. I still. The wind is trying
to catch my attention, but right now I cannot afford to listen to it.
Leaning back against the railing, posture defeated, you close your eyes. As
you run your hands over your face I hear you mumble "God it's hopeless, it'
ll never end."
"Maybe not." I acknowledge, I know how you feel. I don't want to keep doing
this either. "But you know what we need to do next."
Almost as one, actions that are still second nature us, we turn to leave. We
head for the only place left where we can stop this atrocity. As I walk
behind you I wonder if we will always end up in the middle of these
situations. I wonder if I can afford to let you risk everything again. As we
exit the rooftop the wind finally catches my attention.
Together, you can do it.
We're walking them back to the picnic area. Duo in the lead like the Pied
Piper of Hamlin and me bringing up the rear, making sure no one falls
behind. They're singing a song I've never heard about some kid called John
Jacob something-or-another. I don't quite understand it all and it doesn't
help that our little ones can only manage to garble the chorus, or at least
what I think is the chorus since it's what they keep repeating. The only
thing I know for sure is that it apparently requires everyone to walk -- or
march as the case may be -- in a snake like pattern. At this rate, we'll have
traveled three times the distance between here and the picnic tables, but I
guess it's worth it. They're all so content to just sing off-key and at the
top of their lungs, wave their arms around and laugh at the impossibility of
pronouncing this kid's name.
Ever since he got Winner Enterprises to fund these monthly outings for the
Sisters of Mercy, he has been happier than I thought possible. I
occasionally catch his eye when he turns to encourage the kids to sing even
louder by waving his arms around, like a conductor before his orchestra.
Happy doesn't begin to explain the look in his eyes; he radiates joy, peace,
hope and something I can't begin to describe.
We finally make it to the tables and all thoughts of John
whatever-his-name-is disappear as they see the food set out for them. A mad
dash for their feast ensues. He waits for me to catch up and grabs hold of a
belt loop, pulling me close to his side. "Sooooooo. did'ja have fun
I throw an arm over his shoulder and tug playfully at him. "Of course, I
always do. It's fun to watch you play with the kids. You're great with
"You are too, ya' know. Sister Claire says she's never seen anyone as gentle
with the little ones as you are. You'd make a great dad, Heero." He tugs at
my belt loop again and beams a megawatt smile, he seems so very proud of me.
It never ceases to amaze me how he takes such great pride at the little
things I do.
"I'm just being extra careful, that's all," I lean in close to his ear and
whisper the same confession I've made before. "I'm afraid I might break
them." He laughs, a loud and raucous laugh, then pulls me over to help our
little ones settle in. They only have an hour to finish their meals and
where our little band of miscreants is concerned, that will take a great
deal of effort to accomplish.
Our little ones. The 4 to 6 group. In the two years that we've been
volunteering at Mercy House, where the Sisters run a 30-bed group home and
it's adjacent school, we've always had this age group. At first I thought
they'd randomly been assigned to us -- or we to them, just the luck of the
draw; but I learned not too long ago from one of the nuns that Duo had
specifically requested to work with children in this age-group. It didn't
make sense to me, he's studying to become a secondary school teacher and I
figured he would have asked to work with older kids. It would afford him
some practical experience that would be invaluable later on when he goes for
a job in his field. When I'd asked him about it not long after learning the
truth, he just shrugged and tried to play it off, saying he figured they'd
be more fun than the older kids and more susceptible, 'easier to corrupt in
the ways of silliness' he'd said. Later that night as we were getting ready
for bed he told me the real reason.
He had been about that age when he'd been taken in by the Maxwell Church
Orphanage, a time that holds some of his best and worst childhood memories.
He said he wanted to honor Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, by doing for
these kids what they had done for him. He said working and playing with the
children that age made him feel like he was in their presence and that they
finally approved of what he was doing.
I watch him now as he moves from one of them to the other and I wonder if he
honestly believes that his work here is the only thing his beloved priest
and nun have to be proud of.
* * * * * AC195 * * * * *
"Attention Oz, I never would have imagined that you people could be so
incredibly foolish, the space colonies have no intention of fighting Oz,
this is my personal battle that I'm staging against you.
"So the rebel is finally showing his face."
I stare at the image on my screen, words leave my lips like a curse. "Doctor
All my comm channels are open and the chatter is non-stop; Duo wanting to
know who he is, Quatre already figuring his importance to one of us. He
continues to speak and inwardly I dread what I know is coming. In the core
of my being I know and fear it, though I allow no outward sign.
"In your eyes, inhumane moves such as attacking the colonies is just, if
that's what it takes for you to come out victorious, right? Then I have no
choice but to surrender."
"Very well, your surrender is accepted, abandon your gundams immediately!"
She is such a fool, he'll never let them have my gundam. But I am already
moving to accomplish the inevitable. My friends. can I even call them that,
we hardly got a chance to know each other. Except Duo, he is my friend, or
at least he tried to be. What a wasted effort on his part.
I leave the security of the cockpit and step out onto the open platform. I
can still here the comm channels crackling with voices. I hear Zechs
Marquise as he sees one of us, me, for the first time. "A boy! The gundam
pilot is nothing more than a little boy."
"I surrender, but I will not hand over the gundams. I repeat, **I**
surrender, but I will not hand over the gundams."
This is it then, it ends here. The wind is strangely silent for the first
time since I came to the planet. "Mission accepted." Perhaps it has nothing
more to say to me.
Heat, pain and oozing blood are all I feel. I cannot hear a thing, I can
barely see though my eyes are wide open. My thoughts fade in and out around
me. I can't think clearly. I feel myself being lifted. I am suspended in mid
air, a white behemoth before me. Suddenly I am lying on my side, cold metal
surrounding my skin while heat and the distinct smell of a mobile suit after
a battle dissipate around me. Somehow I'm moving, but not. The wind is
whipping through my hair, thundering in my newly regained hearing but today
it is not whispering. It feels like the wind is screaming, whether at me or
some other target I cannot tell, but it is screaming. Definitely screaming.
There is still hope.
We stand at the edge of the parking lot, waving at the departing bus. Hugs
and kisses for the children and polite farewells for the staff have already
been exchanged. The children of Mercy House and their watchful keepers are
on their way home.
He turns to me when they are at the far side of the lot and cocks his head
in the direction of the picnic tables. "Shall we go supervise?"
Some local high-schoolers were enlisted for today's clean up duty. Community
Service hours are a wonderful thing. In addition to their regular
volunteers, like Duo and myself, every month a different group helps out
with the home's outing, making it easier on the Sisters and the staff. These
volunteer groups' duties revolve mostly around the food and drink, hence the
clean up is left to them as well. Since we live on the opposite side of the
park from the Home, we've agreed to oversee the clean up so no one from the
staff has to stay behind.
As we walk back I catch him eyeing me playfully and shoot him a questioning
He giggles -- yes giggles -- apparently the giddiness of hanging around little
children all day hasn't worn off yet. "Big chief Fists of Steel, dress'um up
in war paint?" He pitches his voice in the style of those very old, very
bad, Cowboys and Indians movies.
I answer in the same tone when I see a rather distinct, almost complete
mustard handprint he points out on my white t-shirt. "No, Has Long Tail and
Runs Mouth, seems young brave used chief's shirt as napkin." I survey his
clothes and notice that he is worse off than me.
"Apparently all young braves and squaws in messy mood today." He motions to
several different spots on his clothing. "Not-so-big chief also have what
look like war paint. Must visit brother-river to cleanse himself before
entering teepee tonight."
"Aa." I revert to my normal tone. This Indian-speak, as he calls it, gets
annoying fast. "You definitely need a trip to 'brother-river'." I wrinkle my
nose at him and he laughs, punching me lightly in the arm. I'm about to ask
if he wants to pick up some take out on the way home or go out for dinner
later when his phone rings.
"Hello? . Speaking. . Oh, hey Ben, yeah, how's it going? ." His stride slows
as he becomes immersed in talk of his current Psych project.
I leave him to his call and approach the teenagers who are almost done
cleaning up. Within minutes the area is spotless and I help them tow the
large trash bags to the dumpster. Thanking them for their help, I dismiss
them for the evening.
As I return to the picnic area I find him lying invitingly atop one of the
many tables; eyes closed, braid dangling off the side, arms cradling his
head, knees bent, feet propped on the very edge of the table. I stand just
between his feet and rest my shoulders against his knees. "Everything
alright?" I ask and begin to massage his calves.
"Mm-hm, never better." He locks his ankles behind me and pulls me closer.
With his calves now out of reach I move to rub the outside of his thighs
from knee to hip, "What did Ben want?"
"Oh, just to move our study group up a coupl'a hours tomorrow, says he's got
a hot date he needs time to get ready for."
"So, I get you back earlier than usual tomorrow?"
"Yup." He rolls his head to the side and looks at me. "Got any ideas what
you're gonna do with me for those extra hours?"
I grin. "Anything your heart desires."
He levers himself into a sitting position, settling his hands over mine. "I
wouldn't mind if you did that all day, you know."
"Your wish is my command." I smile at him as I lean in to press our mouths
His whole body shudders as we break the kiss. His hands run up and down the
length of my arms, legs flexing minutely behind me. "Can I make a wish now?"
he whispers, slipping his arms around my waist and bringing our upper bodies
"Of course." I kiss his chin. "What do you want?" His hands are teasing up
my back and the chill I feel run through me has nothing to do with the
"I want" he kisses me slowly, "for you" he breathes against my lips and
grabs me by the shoulders, "to sit" he turns me, still in the circle of his
legs "right here" he settles me on the edge of the table, "until I get
back". He places a last wet kiss at the back of my neck and growls low in
his throat as his legs relinquish their hold on me. Before leaving me bereft
of his warmth he mumbles into my hair, "God I love you!"
I make to turn and follow his progress but he growls back at me. "Don't
I feign indignation in the form of a raised eyebrow, his only answer is a
wicked laugh as he jogs off in the direction of the parking lot. I lean back
on my hands and close my eyes; enjoying the warmth of the waning day and the
gentle breezes. My body still tingles from the brief expressions of his love
and I wonder how I ever got so lucky?
* * * * * AC200 * * * * *
He pulls into a space about half a block from my apartment. As he puts the
car in park I ask the same question that I always ask. "Can you stay the
"Mm, love to," he shakes his head, "but I've got class tomorrow morning and
work right after. Maybe tomorrow?" He turns off the ignition, leans over and
kisses me. It is strong, lingering and promising. It doesn't feel like a
goodnight kiss to me. I think he just needs a little convincing.
"I'll lend you a shirt and some underwear. You could swing by your apartment
after class and change before going to work." We kiss again. A little more
enthusiastically this time.
"Lend me some underwear, huh? You know that's not a big problem for me," his
eyes take on a mischievous sparkle, "I occasionally go without." His hand is
playing with the hair at the base of my skull, twisting it with his fingers.
His eyes search mine for a minute before he pulls me in for another searing
kiss and for a moment I wonder what the hell we're still doing sitting in
the car, but he pulls back. "Unfortunately that won't help much. Home is not
exactly on the way between school and work." His breath is scorching my ear
where he whispers his reasoning. The temperature inside the car is rising.
"I really need to go home tonight."
I nuzzle his neck and try to think of some other way around this. I don't
want to sleep alone tonight. I don't EVER want to sleep alone anymore, his
warm presence next to me in bed or curled up on the sofa has become an
addiction; but too often that's not how things are working out for us.
"Mmm, Heero please, don't make this any harder than it has to be. You don't
know how much I want to." his words trail off and suddenly we're kissing
again. My hand works its way under his jacket and inside his shirt, rubbing
at his side and hip. We both shiver at the touch. The heat between us is
escalating and I notice that the windows are starting to fog up. He groans
and grabs my wrist, stopping the motion of my hand, breaking the kiss with a
heaving breath. "Damn Heero, you need to get out of this car right now. I
can NOT miss another class this week." Actions contradict words as he drops
his head to my shoulder and takes a deep breath, our hands drop to his
thigh. "It's. it's not that I WANT to go home." Encouraged by his words I
try to slide my hand up the inside of his thigh but the grip on me will not
"Then stay with me." I nuzzle his neck and ear, I can't believe we're
actually making out in this stupid car when my apartment is a few hundred
feet away. "Stay." I entreat again. We start kissing once more and I think I
might be turning the tide. Our hands resume their tentative explorations. My
hand, now free again from his grip, returns to its previous activities,
running along his skin, nails scraping lightly in their passage. One of his
hands has made its way to my face, stroking my cheek momentarily before
questing over my jaw, past my ear, into the hair at the back of my head,
holding me in place. His other hand has fisted the front of my shirt. My
body screams its elation, thinking I have finally won.
"No." He whispers. "Not tonight. I can't". He heaves breathy words as lips
and tongues part only to meet again. "I want to, good God in heaven how I
want to." He takes one last, long, sensual, exploratory trip into my soul
through my mouth and then pushes back with the hand at my chest.
We sit and we stare at each other for a good long time, trying to regulate
our breathing. He's right, he can't stay. He has commitments and I shouldn't
pressure him into compromising them again. Finally I nod, still a little
winded and more than a little wound up. I cover the hand on my chest with
one of my own. "I'm sorry, you're right. I know it isn't convenient. It's
just I." I falter.
I what? I'm at a complete loss for words and they were never my strong suit
to begin with. I can't seem to sleep well without you. I can't stand the
thought of not being with you. I want to spend every free moment I have and
a few not-so-free ones basking in your presence.
His hand turning under mine brings me back to the present, his fingers work
their way between mine but don't move from where they rest against my body.
"I know, love, I.. I think I know." He leans his head against the back of
the seat and just looks at me. "Man this is killing me. If I could, Heero, I
swear I'd take you home with me right now, but my roommates. we have that
no-overnight-guest rule. So. tomorrow. Alright?"
"OK, tomorrow." I concede. "Pack a bag." I plead. "Spend the rest of the
week here, all the way through to Monday." He nods, an encouraging smile on
his face. "Great, Duo, that'll be great." I lean forward with the intention
of stealing one last kiss, but his hand stills my movement.
"I think we've done enough of that for now. Any more of that and we might
end up spending the night out here in the car." He gives me a little shove
with the hand still at my chest. "Goodnight Heero."
I smile and bring his hand up to my lips, I give him a warm, lingering kiss
on the back of it while fumbling blindly for the door handle. I want to look
at him for as long as I can; burn this particular view of him into my memory
so I can access it again later. I succeed in opening the door and back out
of the seat. I crouch on the curb, my eyes still locked with his.
"I love you. You know that, right?" Our hands are sliding from each other's
I nod. "Aa, love you too." At last our fingertips part company as I stand to
close the door. I pull my jacket closed around me, it suddenly seems much
colder than it should be. Of course that could just be the loss of his
presence. I run my fingers down the car window, wishing it was his face and
not some cold glass. I step back, shoving my hands in my pockets when he
turns to start up the engine. With one last look over my shoulder I head for
my apartment. My cold and empty apartment.
Moments later I imagine that I hear the sound of his car door opening, that
I hear him call my name; but my mind logically points out that the engine is
still running and he is just waiting for me to disappear into the building
before pulling away from the curb. It must be the wind, it loves to torture
me sometimes. But I hear my name again and without thinking I turn toward
He is standing by the driver's side door, looking at me with a hopeful
expression. "Heero?" He calls again. I turn fully and take a step back in
his direction. "Would you. do you." He shakes his head in frustration,
covering his face with one hand. When the hand moves away I see
determination in his eyes.
"My lease with these guys ends in three months, at the end of this semester.
I don't want to reup with them, I want to live with you. I want us to move
in together. I don't want to spend another night without you by my side or
wake up to another empty bed. I want you Heero, for as long as you'll have
me. We've been dating long enough now and it's not like we have to wait for
someone's permission or a white wedding or something. So do you want to?
Move in together, live with me?"
It takes me a moment to process the information that has just rushed from
the lips I adore. In a flash I'm back at his side, crushing his body to
"Yes." I kiss him. "Yes!" I kiss him again. "God yes!" I try to steal the
very breath from his being because I cannot think of anything else I want
more in my life.
As I lose myself in another sweltering kiss, I hear a whisper on the wind.
He is modeling for me the clean t-shirt he found in the trunk of our car. At
first guess, I'd say it doesn't belong to either of us. The shirt is about
two sizes too big for him, the neck so wide it almost slips off one
shoulder. When he's done displaying the clean shirt, he holds out something
else for my inspection.
"A little something I picked up just for today." He shakes loose what turns
out to be a blanket. "A beach blanket. We are technically at a beach; see
the shore line there and the water just beyond." I nod as he points out
these rather obvious landmarks and it becomes clear what we'll be doing. "I
figured we could hang out for a little while, maybe watch the sun set,
before heading home. Whad'dya say?"
I hop off the table and walk toward him. "Ryuoukai." I grab his hand and
pull him along with me as he rolls his eyes at my answer.
Together, we make our way onto the sand. We lay out our blanket and he
removes his shoes, placing them at the corners. "Wanna go for a little
I forego taking off my shoes, but mockingly bow for him. "As you wish, my
"O~oh, my liege is it? Then will you rub my back a bit before we go for a
"Of course." I oblige. "Before, during, after a walk; whatever makes you
"Man, you're in a sappy mood today." He kisses me quickly and plops himself
down, pulling me along with him. "C'mere lover boy." I sit behind him, legs
on either side of his hips and begin working from his lower back up. An
ongoing chorus of 'ooh', 'ah', 'right there' and 'oh harder' join the
rhythmic sound of the crashing waves.
As I work my way higher I shift up onto my knees to make working the muscles
easier. I go to move his braid out of the way but decide I'd rather set it
free. I want to see those silken strands dancing on the wind. Wild and
carefree, like the one I love. He turns to smile at me, knowing how much I
love to see his hair loose.
He breaks the silence with a quiet question. "You wanna know what really
makes me happy, Heero?"
"Mmhmm." I answer absently, running my fingers through the loose strands and
marveling at their beauty.
He searches my gaze for a moment before answering, "Being here, with you." A
blush rises on his cheeks and he quickly turns his gaze back to the water,
pursing his lips. "Shit, now I'm getting all mushy, it must be
My hands still on his shoulders, I bend around his right side to capture
that adorable pout in a kiss, conveying as much love as I can with just my
lips. Pulling away slightly we rub noses for a moment. When his eyes open
again they stare lovingly into mine; suddenly I can't resist the urge to
I kiss him quickly one more time and pull back a little further. "Don't
worry," I lean back in to whisper in his ear, "I've got just the cure for
that." A small 'oh' escapes him, thinking he knows what I'm going to
suggest. "Mmhm, a good dose of laundry and vacuuming will clear that case of
mushiness right up. We've got plenty of that at home."
He looks at me in shock for a minute then breaks into snickers, I'm not
usually the one who makes that kind of remark. "Good, good. That was good."
He nods appreciatively. "Not very poetic, but good none the less." He laughs
a little harder as we both turn our gazes back to the crashing waves.
"I told you I wasn't poetic." I reply sardonically.
"Un-huhn, and the wind talks to whom exactly?" He snickers for a moment
before quieting. Still staring out at the waves he speaks again, this time
more seriously. "I love you. You know that, right?"
"Aa. Love you, too."
"Good, that's good" he mumbles and leans into me slightly. After a while I
settle back onto the blanket behind him and pull it up at the corners to
cover both of us. The wind is getting more playful as the sun and the
temperature drop. We watch in comfortable silence as the day finally turns
With some regret I realize we'll have to leave here soon, the park closes
half an hour after sunset. We have very little time left to enjoy this
today. But we have the rest of our lives together to relive and reenact this
And the wind, it whispers.