Summer Days
The Weaver Atropos
Time frame: 4/1/2006 12:00-1:28
Pairing: 1x2 (do I ever write anything else?)

Note: Little drabble/stream-of-consciousness going on. Posted...years after I wrote it. Just proof that I'm not dead.

It was hard not to look at him. Duo shifted in his seat and cast a surreptitious glance from the corner of his eye at the young man. He'd always liked looking at him. He'd always been platonically obsessed with the man, even if he'd refused to acknowledge the fact earlier.

But even then, he'd never been able to deny how much he liked just looking at him.

Heero sighed a little, relaxing further into the softness of the hammock, uncharacteristically oblivious to the young man's glances. And it was better this way…because then there wouldn't be any awkward glances…no awkward silences.

Not that there'd ever been any. Heero wasn't all that talkative by nature, anyway. But usually Duo would talk. He'd chatter on incessantly about the day, about things he'd done or learned. And Heero would listen. Or, at least, he'd nod attentively and offer a word of input here and there.

Even if, you know, he might have not been paying attention at all.

Duo heaved a sigh and turned away. It almost seemed a waste. The sun hung bright in the sky, and the weather was pleasantly warm against his bronzing skin. They should have gone out. Taken up on Trowa and Quatre's offer to go to the beach.

So what if he couldn't swim. He could learn.

Heero hadn't believed him when he'd told him no one had ever taught him how to swim. He'd raised one of his eyebrows, Prussian eyes sparkling beautifully in the rosy saffron of dusk, and his lips had twitched ever so slightly. He'd said everyone knew how to swim. That they were born knowing how to swim.

So maybe he'd forgot.

Heero was a wonderful swimmer. He looked so at home in the water, his tousled hair wet and clinging to his cheeks, his bare arms strong and versatile in the ocean currents. His body--tanner than Duo's own--shone nicely, the thin gleam of water on his torso appealing to nearly every onlooker.

Relena had been there that time. He remembered because she'd waded in timidly after Heero, as though unsure of how to approach him still, and he'd been unable to follow. Because he couldn't swim. He'd always made it a point to be there when Relena was around. Because…even if it was a platonic sort of thing he felt…he didn't want Relena to take away his platonic interest.

Maybe Relena realized that and decided to take advantange. Who knew? He hadn't heard from her in a while. Neither had Heero.

Or maybe he had and just hadn't mentioned it.

Duo shrugged a little, shifting in his seat a little more until his back cracked in complaint, and his shoulder-joints bristled uncomfortably. He should go to bed. Or to his own hammock. It did look inviting. Though, if prompted, he'd say that crawling in with Heero was the more tempting of the two.

Not that he'd ever actually say that aloud.

He wondered what Heero would say if he did.

He imagined that there'd be a gun involved somewhere. And lots of colorful crimson splatters on the wall. Oh yeah. Lots of those. And some brains and guts just for the hell of it.

Or maybe not.

It was hard to guess about things anymore. Heero could be just as screwy as him sometimes. Granted, he was a bit compulsive in nearly everything he did, but Heero had his moments where he seemed to throw logic and all else out the window and just go with what he felt.

Like that time he'd gotten utterly smashed on vodka.

Duo had been surprised when he'd found him. He still didn't know why Heero'd gotten drunk, but he figured he never would unless he told him. He'd never really liked pushing Heero for answers.

Still, he had been a little startled to find all 145lbs of Heero draped over his front steps. He had a vague notion of what was going on, but Heero was so somber that, had he not known the man, Duo wouldn't have been able to tell he was drunk at all.

And then there had been the bottle in his hand.

It had bothered him--the entire scenario. Heero wasn't a drinker; he wasn't the type to seek solace in a bottle, or to drown his sorrows and all that crap. That was him. He was the idiot who ended up messed up half the time, hauled out of random bars by Heero.

It had hurt a little to see the other pilot in that condition.

Heero had been shy. Contrite, actually. And he'd stared at him woefully from under lusciously long brown lashes. He'd murmured something here and there--things Duo couldn't understand since the youth had lapsed into Japanese--and had clutched at his arm almost desperately.

The smell of alcohol had wafted to his nostrils when he'd picked up Heero in his arms, eager to get him inside and out of the cold. It had been strong liquor. No beer for Heero. When he got trashed, he got trashed.

He wished he could know why Heero had been drinking that night. He really did.

If he really thought about it, Heero had a long list of lapses. It was hard for Duo to really think of Heero as the Perfect Soldier anymore. Not when he saw him struggle daily to keep himself disciplined and impassive. It didn't come second-nature to him, at all. It wasn't who he was. Not really.

But those flaws--they made him all the more endearing. Duo couldn't say his motivations where wholly selfless. He wasn't Relena--he had no real intent of saving Heero from anything. He needed no saving. None at all. That was part of the reason why he'd never understood Relena. She'd always told him she wanted to save Heero. That she wanted him to relive his youth and have the childhood he never had.

But…Duo had a feeling that Heero didn't want any of that. He'd had a childhood already, though it might not have been the best one. There was no time for diversions anyway. Life was short. Theirs even shorter.

She had a good heart, but she didn't really understand them. Not at all.

Duo frowned a little. His leg was falling asleep. Rising from the lawn chair, he stretched, muscles tightening, and dropped to his back on the grass, gathering his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes.

There were a lot of memories between him and Heero. Too many to count. But he remembered them all. There were a lot he cherished, and a lot that made him wonder sometimes.

Like the time when Heero had rescued him. He'd really thought he was going to kill him. He'd waited for it, though he hadn't wanted it, and had opened his eyes to find Heero watching him, waiting for a sign of sorts. He was willing to do him the favor--to free him from his life--but he wouldn't do it of his own accord. And Duo would have asked him to, if he hadn't had a thought.

If he died, he'd never be able to stare into those eyes again.

Those beautiful eyes that said so much.

Most people didn't see it. They were too frightened of Heero to ponder the possibility of him having fears of his own. They didn't bother to acknowledge his vulnerability. He was human. He was bound to be frightened of something--to be scared.

But he'd been looking into those eyes for a long time. And whenever Heero looked at him--whether in the midst of a joke, or during a serious conversation--he knew what the other was thinking.

He could almost feel his thoughts.

They really were beautiful eyes. He hadn't even known the color Prussian existed until he'd gone online to look up hues of blues to find Heero's exact eye color. He'd wanted to be sure of what it was. He didn't know why exactly.

Heero was a heavy sleeper. Not many people knew. The only reason he knew was because he'd been dorming with him for so long. And now they lived together. Shared a room. Nothing could wake Heero when he was tired.

He was prompt--and he woke with dawn, but nothing short of a hurricane could rouse him from his sleep.

Which was just as fine since Duo was something of a noisy sleeper anyway.

Maybe that's why they'd always been roommates.

Duo was vaguely distracted by the feather light sensation of something running up his arm. He swatted at it briefly. Mosquitoes were up and about.

He figured he'd stand the bites for now. It was too nice to go inside anyway.

He licked at his lips absently, snaking his right arm a little behind his back to pull his braid from beneath him, and sighed contentedly when it was out of the way. He was comfy.

A few seconds of oblivious thought and he felt the feather light caress again.

Frowning, but determinately ignoring it, he crossed his arms about his chest, brows drawn together and pout taking possession of his small mouth.

Heero had told him he'd had a small mouth.

He'd been surprised at first. No one had ever told him that before. He was aware of the fact, granted, but…not even girls had been bold enough to let him know that.

His hand had come up tentatively to his mouth, and he'd felt at it, eyes widening when he caught Heero's own eyes drifting to focus on his lips as he touched them.

His cheeks had burned a soft pink when Heero'd looked up again, in time to catch him staring.

And then he'd smiled.

It had been a soft, absent sort of gesture, more amused than anything else. Duo figured it wouldn't even have counted as a smile if it weren't for the fact that Heero smiled so rarely.

It made him look really vulnerable.

There were so many sides to Heero that it was difficult to figure out which one he was. You'd think you had him all figured out, and then he'd pull a stunt like mentioning you had a small mouth, or get dead drunk for no apparent reason, or do something completely random like kiss you.

Duo's cheeks flushed scarlet. The kiss. He was torn about it. He didn't know if he wanted it constantly replaying in his mind, or if he wanted to forget about it altogether.

Heero was an amazing kisser. A little sloppy, and lacking just a bit of experience…but his entire soul went into his kisses. That same passion that made him reckless made him--incredibly demanding.

The kiss had been great. The aftermath he could have done without. He could have been able to live with it if he'd suddenly thrown himself on Heero and planted a good one on him, and then Heero'd understandably walked out. But that hadn't been the case. It had been Heero who had kissed him--who had pressed his cool hand at his cheek to hold him close--and it had been Heero who had remained behind, startled and a little pained, when Duo suddenly bolted from the room after the kiss.

It had been a stupid move on his part. Heero had been--after that--avoiding him like the plague. Duo didn't blame him. He figured Heero supposed Duo didn't want him around--or anywhere near the emotional and physical vicinity, in any case, so he'd kept his distance.

Duo scratched absently at his arm where he felt another one of those annoying little nips.

Still, things had been strained between them. And Duo was feeling incredibly guilty. He didn't want Heero to think he was avoiding him (though he might have been)--and, to be honest, Duo really did want to be with Heero.

When the tickling sensation at his arm persisted, Duo hesitated, then--with lighting reflexes--shot out his hand and made to smack at whatever insect was sucking out his blood for its evil purposes.

His hand landed on another hand.

Hesitantly, he blinked open amethyst eyes, in time to catch Heero wincing. Duo paused, seeing the tumult of things that flashed in the brunette's eyes even as this one turned away, and without thinking, gave a fierce tug to the wrist he had captured and sent Heero catapulting into his arms. He felt the surprise in the other man, caught the small exhalation of breath, even, but that wasn't at the forefront of his mind.

He grunted a little as the weight of the former soldier momentarily stifled him, but he recovered soon enough, reaching forward to wrap his hand about Heero's nape, bringing the youth close and crushing his lips to his. He was only vaguely aware that Heero had fallen into his lap, cool hands tentatively placed at his cheeks, his lips soft and probing.

And he smiled a little against those lips, feeling the reciprocated smile in return, and heaved a pleased little sigh.

Summer days were nice.

OWARI