Motion Sickness, Gundam Wing, for gw500
Title: Motion Sickness
Author: Ellie Biel
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Characters/pairing: Heero Yuy/Duo Maxwell
Warnings: AU, angst
Notes: Originally intended as a response to gw500 challenge 112 - whitewash, it seemed to work better as one fic rather than two and therefore it also incorporates challenge 113 - fake.
Part 1: To Cut Off One's Nose
Part 2: Yellow
Part 3: Belgian Waffles
Part 4: Frozen
Part 5: Ante Up
Part 6: Moon Jellies
Heero found that running into Duo at the supermarket was far different from meeting him for a date, and although thinking of it in those terms was bound to be trouble, there was nothing else that came close to describing it.
He'd spent far too much time picking out his clothes and he'd found himself pacing, leaving far too early for the aquarium just to provide himself with a distraction from the unsettled feeling in his stomach. He'd have been happy for Duo if he'd found someone else, anyone other than the guy who had been in their apartment that day. He prided himself on his self control and ability to handle whatever was thrown in his direction, but the day he'd walked in and seen the two of them on the sofa, Heero had wanted to rip the stranger's head off.
It had scared him, the blind rage he'd felt, and when Duo had taunted him afterwards, he'd shut himself off, not trusting that he'd be able to keep from saying or doing something they'd both regret.
He'd been fooling himself.
If he'd been ill at ease while waiting for Duo, it was ten times worse seeing him again. Heero felt an ache and he knew in that moment that he could not stay there; he needed to get away from the crowd and get some fresh air, to get his bearings again. If he stayed there he was afraid he might truly be sick, and when Duo's hand came out of his pocket and covered his mouth, Heero felt like doing the same, to rein in the rising nausea.
He swallowed several times and tried to remember to breathe in through his nose and out through his lips, but all that did was make him more aware of the sounds around them.
Duo's silence was not helping matters at all, and finally Heero could not take it any longer. He put his hand under Duo's elbow and led him away from the jellyfish, toward the escalators, and didn't let go until they were out on the sidewalk.
"You wanted to talk," he said tightly, afraid to move his lips more than he needed lest he crack. "So talk."
Duo couldn't remember a time he'd been this nervous, not during final exams or job interviews or even the first time he and Heero had had sex. There was a look of intensity on Heero's face that he'd never seen before, and it scared him to think that if he blew it now, he'd never get another chance.
Duo wanted that chance. He wanted it more than anything.
He'd been so upset with Heero that day. Heero should have trusted him. He'd not said a word, but it had been obvious from the look on his face that he was angry, for something that wasn't Duo's fault. If Heero really loved him, he'd not have assumed the worst. That wasn't excusing his own behavior; Duo knew that, but then Heero had simply closed down on him and Duo had blurted out some nonsense about no penetration, no foul.
All the things he'd said after that, in an attempt to get a reaction, had been unforgivable. He'd lied to Heero, with the intention of making him hurt, only to damage something that was very precious to him.
"There is," he said, and his voice cracked slightly. Duo didn't get a response so he touched his fingertips to Heero's sleeve, waiting for Heero to look at him. When he did, Duo was nearly bowled over by the vivid blue of his eyes. The last time he'd been this close to Heero had been their last night together, right after a bout of angry, possessive sex, and then Heero had rolled over and gone to sleep with his back to Duo.
"Can we go back to your place?" Duo asked. He held his breath, afraid Heero would say no, but just as afraid if Heero said yes that he wasn't ready for this. Heero looked doubtful and apprehensive, and Duo knew that he had to get Heero to say yes.
"You were right," he said quietly. He slid his fingers down Heero's arm and brushed them against Heero's wrist and the palm of his hand before putting his hands back in his pockets. He wanted to look away, to watch the cars passing by or the changing of the traffic light, anywhere but at Heero.
He swallowed. "You were right, Heero. There is."
Duo knew that Heero had no idea what he was talking about, but he looked like he was ready to give in.
"You were right," he repeated softly. "What you said that day. There is more between us than that."
When Heero took his next breath, Duo saw his shoulders tremble, and he thought his knees would give out. Heero was going to say no, and quite honestly Duo couldn't blame him. It had been a lot easier text messaging Heero than facing him in person. Knowing that was not quite as depressing as the thought that Heero was going to walk away, and this time, for good.
Heero shook his head, and Duo could hear a shrill no echoing through his head, louder than if Heero had spoken the word. He wondered what was more important, his pride, or Heero, and if it would make any difference at all if he pleaded. Heero opened his mouth to speak, and Duo panicked. He wasn't ready to hear it.
"Heero-" he shut his mouth when Heero held up his hand and pointed behind him.
"My apartment is that way," he said tightly.
It took Duo a moment to realize he'd been given an invitation, and a bit longer to shake himself out of his stupor and chase after Heero. He didn't dare hope for anything, but it was impossible not to when Heero slowed his pace enough for Duo to catch up.
Heero felt more like throwing up than he had in the aquarium. Duo had completely taken the wind out of his sails with that comment. Heero had given Duo the opportunity months ago to say something, anything, to let him know that he felt the same way. Duo should have stopped him from leaving, and Heero hadn't realized until now that he'd never forgiven Duo for letting him go.
And when he stopped putting all the blame on Duo's shoulders, he'd admit that he hadn't forgiven himself for leaving in the first place.
Right now, though, all he could do to keep himself from stumbling over his own feet was to match his pace to Duo's, and to take a twisted sort of comfort from the sound of their footsteps, each one in tandem with the other.
Part 8: In Sync