Trigger #5 - Fate
Title: Fate
Fandom/Original: Gundam Wing
Author: ralphiere
Pairings: 1x2
Rating: G
Warnings: sappiness I suppose, Heero’s POV
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing
Thanks to bleedtoblue for reading it over and trying to convince me it’s not crap.
Written for visual_trigger #5.
Fate
We’d bought the house because Duo fell in love with the front door. Not that he’d admit to it if asked, giving that half shrug and finding something interesting to look at out the window instead of answering. He fell in love with the front door, the knotty pine hardwoods and the gigantic cast iron wood cook stove in the kitchen. I fell more deeply in love with him because of this.
He’d insisted that he didn’t care what we lived in as long as it was warm, dry, and he had somewhere to store his motorcycle. We’d spent months going to open houses, looking at cloned monstrosities in planned neighborhoods, and feeling more and more disgusted with the whole process. We weren’t cut out for neighborhood yard sales and buying Girl Scout cookies from the kid next door - we weren’t really good at playing nice. I had actually tried to convince myself that I could get used to Duo using the dining room in our apartment as a garage just so we could give up on the whole house thing. So what if I had to push aside a disassembled carburetor to eat my toast in the morning, right? We had eventually given up looking.
I don’t know if I believe in fate, but sometimes things have a funny way of working out. It had been a Sunday and we’d just wanted to get out of the house. Duo had heard of an ice cream place a couple towns over where they made the ‘best ice cream in the state’. We’d driven for almost an hour before we’d found it and after parking had to walk at least a quarter of a mile to get back to it. The place was out in the sticks, but that didn’t stop it from being incredibly popular. We’d waited in line for a half hour and I’ll be the first to admit that it was worth it - I’d never tasted ice cream so good.
We’d gotten lost going home, but neither of us had cared. Duo had reclined his seat and had his booted foot propped in the open window moving in time with the music playing on the radio. The day was warm, the air sweet and clean. It had just felt good to be out there where the trees made canopies of dappled sunlight across the winding roads devoid of other cars. The For Sale sign that I’d almost hit had looked like it had lost a fight with a baseball bat and was leaning into the road. It had caught us off guard enough that we’d stopped; maybe it had been set that way on purpose.
It wasn’t until I saw this house that I’d understood the concept of a rambling farmhouse. Standing out in front you could just make out the small house that had spawned the rest beneath the peeling grey paint. The odd shape told a story, it had a lot of character. The uniqueness had called to us in a way so few things did.
Duo had been the first to step out of the car, stretching his legs absentmindedly as he looked the house over. It had been obviously empty, but not the least bit abandoned looking. I’d righted the For Sale sign and glanced at Duo’s profile just in time to see him smile.
“This place is kind of cool,” Duo had said, grinning at me over his shoulder for a moment before walking towards the house. “Sort of like it grew on its own.”
At first we’d circled the house peering into the windows, but I knew that wouldn’t be enough. I hadn’t even tried to dissuade Duo when he started to jimmy the lock; I’d wanted to see the inside as much as he did. The house smelled old, but good old - like a mixture of old books and antiques instead of disrepair and decay. The sun filtering through the windows had given the place a sleepy feel, cozy, like lazy afternoons without a care in the world.
When we’d stepped inside we’d entered through a summer kitchen and followed the mudroom into the main house. I’d opened my mouth to comment on the worn state of the linoleum but snapped it shut again when I’d seen Duo run his fingers over the black surface of the cast iron stove. The stove was a monster and took up an easy third of the kitchen.
“This is so cool,” Duo had said softly, unlatching the front door to peer inside. “It’s a woodstove. I’ve never seen anything like it.” It had been a long time since I’d seen his eyes light up like that and I’d felt my stomach tighten. The tedium of civilian life had been hard on Duo, harder than any of us expected, and it thrilled me to see that look again.
The rest of the rooms in the downstairs were all interconnected, that part I’d thought was pretty cool myself. We moved through the small dining room into what could easily be an office, or a spare bedroom. Opening the opposite door into a room with huge floor to ceiling windows showing a view of fields to the side of the house. The last door dumped us out into the front hallway with stairs leading up and a set of quasi-French doors leading outside. I opened the doors to reveal a set of screen doors letting fresh air stream in. I turned to find Duo sitting on the stairs, one arm twined through the slats beneath the banister.
“Look at this place, Heero.” He patted the stair next to him and waited for me to sit. He leaned into me slightly and slid his other arm around my waist. “I don’t think we can let this place go to just anyone, they won’t appreciate it.”
“Like we would?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet so as not to disrupt the moment.
“Exactly.”
By the time we were getting back in the car with the realtor’s number written down on a scrap of paper found in the glove compartment we’d discovered four bedrooms and a full bath upstairs, a basement that looked like the perfect setting for a horror movie, what must’ve once been a woodshop, and a huge barn. After calling the realtor the next morning we’d found that the house was still on the market, came with 10 acres of land, and was within our price range.
We closed and had Duo’s motorcycle tucked safely into the barn less than two months later.
Shutting the mudroom door I was greeted with the sweet smell of wood smoke, making me smile. There was something in a pot on the stove that also smelled good, but I put off further inspection to search for the chef. Walking through the kitchen into the front hall I found Duo sitting on the stairs looking much like he had that first day we’d come to explore. The sun was setting and the sky outside was painted with glorious colors. The floor creaked under my foot and he turned to smile at me.
“How did it go today?” I asked, sitting next to him, taking his hand in mine, and running my thumb over new calluses. Duo had taken some time off from his job to work on the house and even though he grumbled I could tell that he loved it.
“I fixed the leak in the upstairs bathroom, stripped the wallpaper in the front bedroom, hopefully found the hole the mice are coming in through and decided on a color for the exterior paint.” Duo leaned his head against my shoulder to watch the sunset and gave my hand a squeeze.
“Black?” I teased, laughing when I felt his elbow nudge my ribs.
“No, red. Red with white trim.” He stood and pulled me up after him. “It’ll be classic.”
I spun him to face me and pulled him into my arms. “Sounds perfect.” I’d managed to touch my lips to his for half a second before the smoke alarms went off. Duo was out of my arms in a flash, swearing loudly as he pulled the pot off the stove. I opened the back door to let the smoke out and I couldn’t help but smile.
“I swear I had it this time,” Duo muttered, slamming the lid back on the pot. He turned and glared at the stove. “I should sell the beastly thing!”
I’d tried to suggest we replace it with a modern stove after the first fiasco but that hadn’t gone over well. Duo really did love the thing. “You’ll get the hang of it.” I picked the phone up off the counter and hit speed dial - Duo was lucky I loved pizza.
Fandom/Original: Gundam Wing
Author: ralphiere
Pairings: 1x2
Rating: G
Warnings: sappiness I suppose, Heero’s POV
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing
Thanks to bleedtoblue for reading it over and trying to convince me it’s not crap.
Written for visual_trigger #5.
Fate
We’d bought the house because Duo fell in love with the front door. Not that he’d admit to it if asked, giving that half shrug and finding something interesting to look at out the window instead of answering. He fell in love with the front door, the knotty pine hardwoods and the gigantic cast iron wood cook stove in the kitchen. I fell more deeply in love with him because of this.
He’d insisted that he didn’t care what we lived in as long as it was warm, dry, and he had somewhere to store his motorcycle. We’d spent months going to open houses, looking at cloned monstrosities in planned neighborhoods, and feeling more and more disgusted with the whole process. We weren’t cut out for neighborhood yard sales and buying Girl Scout cookies from the kid next door - we weren’t really good at playing nice. I had actually tried to convince myself that I could get used to Duo using the dining room in our apartment as a garage just so we could give up on the whole house thing. So what if I had to push aside a disassembled carburetor to eat my toast in the morning, right? We had eventually given up looking.
I don’t know if I believe in fate, but sometimes things have a funny way of working out. It had been a Sunday and we’d just wanted to get out of the house. Duo had heard of an ice cream place a couple towns over where they made the ‘best ice cream in the state’. We’d driven for almost an hour before we’d found it and after parking had to walk at least a quarter of a mile to get back to it. The place was out in the sticks, but that didn’t stop it from being incredibly popular. We’d waited in line for a half hour and I’ll be the first to admit that it was worth it - I’d never tasted ice cream so good.
We’d gotten lost going home, but neither of us had cared. Duo had reclined his seat and had his booted foot propped in the open window moving in time with the music playing on the radio. The day was warm, the air sweet and clean. It had just felt good to be out there where the trees made canopies of dappled sunlight across the winding roads devoid of other cars. The For Sale sign that I’d almost hit had looked like it had lost a fight with a baseball bat and was leaning into the road. It had caught us off guard enough that we’d stopped; maybe it had been set that way on purpose.
It wasn’t until I saw this house that I’d understood the concept of a rambling farmhouse. Standing out in front you could just make out the small house that had spawned the rest beneath the peeling grey paint. The odd shape told a story, it had a lot of character. The uniqueness had called to us in a way so few things did.
Duo had been the first to step out of the car, stretching his legs absentmindedly as he looked the house over. It had been obviously empty, but not the least bit abandoned looking. I’d righted the For Sale sign and glanced at Duo’s profile just in time to see him smile.
“This place is kind of cool,” Duo had said, grinning at me over his shoulder for a moment before walking towards the house. “Sort of like it grew on its own.”
At first we’d circled the house peering into the windows, but I knew that wouldn’t be enough. I hadn’t even tried to dissuade Duo when he started to jimmy the lock; I’d wanted to see the inside as much as he did. The house smelled old, but good old - like a mixture of old books and antiques instead of disrepair and decay. The sun filtering through the windows had given the place a sleepy feel, cozy, like lazy afternoons without a care in the world.
When we’d stepped inside we’d entered through a summer kitchen and followed the mudroom into the main house. I’d opened my mouth to comment on the worn state of the linoleum but snapped it shut again when I’d seen Duo run his fingers over the black surface of the cast iron stove. The stove was a monster and took up an easy third of the kitchen.
“This is so cool,” Duo had said softly, unlatching the front door to peer inside. “It’s a woodstove. I’ve never seen anything like it.” It had been a long time since I’d seen his eyes light up like that and I’d felt my stomach tighten. The tedium of civilian life had been hard on Duo, harder than any of us expected, and it thrilled me to see that look again.
The rest of the rooms in the downstairs were all interconnected, that part I’d thought was pretty cool myself. We moved through the small dining room into what could easily be an office, or a spare bedroom. Opening the opposite door into a room with huge floor to ceiling windows showing a view of fields to the side of the house. The last door dumped us out into the front hallway with stairs leading up and a set of quasi-French doors leading outside. I opened the doors to reveal a set of screen doors letting fresh air stream in. I turned to find Duo sitting on the stairs, one arm twined through the slats beneath the banister.
“Look at this place, Heero.” He patted the stair next to him and waited for me to sit. He leaned into me slightly and slid his other arm around my waist. “I don’t think we can let this place go to just anyone, they won’t appreciate it.”
“Like we would?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet so as not to disrupt the moment.
“Exactly.”
By the time we were getting back in the car with the realtor’s number written down on a scrap of paper found in the glove compartment we’d discovered four bedrooms and a full bath upstairs, a basement that looked like the perfect setting for a horror movie, what must’ve once been a woodshop, and a huge barn. After calling the realtor the next morning we’d found that the house was still on the market, came with 10 acres of land, and was within our price range.
We closed and had Duo’s motorcycle tucked safely into the barn less than two months later.
Shutting the mudroom door I was greeted with the sweet smell of wood smoke, making me smile. There was something in a pot on the stove that also smelled good, but I put off further inspection to search for the chef. Walking through the kitchen into the front hall I found Duo sitting on the stairs looking much like he had that first day we’d come to explore. The sun was setting and the sky outside was painted with glorious colors. The floor creaked under my foot and he turned to smile at me.
“How did it go today?” I asked, sitting next to him, taking his hand in mine, and running my thumb over new calluses. Duo had taken some time off from his job to work on the house and even though he grumbled I could tell that he loved it.
“I fixed the leak in the upstairs bathroom, stripped the wallpaper in the front bedroom, hopefully found the hole the mice are coming in through and decided on a color for the exterior paint.” Duo leaned his head against my shoulder to watch the sunset and gave my hand a squeeze.
“Black?” I teased, laughing when I felt his elbow nudge my ribs.
“No, red. Red with white trim.” He stood and pulled me up after him. “It’ll be classic.”
I spun him to face me and pulled him into my arms. “Sounds perfect.” I’d managed to touch my lips to his for half a second before the smoke alarms went off. Duo was out of my arms in a flash, swearing loudly as he pulled the pot off the stove. I opened the back door to let the smoke out and I couldn’t help but smile.
“I swear I had it this time,” Duo muttered, slamming the lid back on the pot. He turned and glared at the stove. “I should sell the beastly thing!”
I’d tried to suggest we replace it with a modern stove after the first fiasco but that hadn’t gone over well. Duo really did love the thing. “You’ll get the hang of it.” I picked the phone up off the counter and hit speed dial - Duo was lucky I loved pizza.