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"Son Of A Preacher Man "Written By: Jo Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. Have nothing.
I write for the fun of it. Rating: PG (for now) Warnings: AU, shounen-ai, slight OOC(?) Pairings: 1+2 (for now), developing to 1x2 at
the end. Summary: The boys are a little older but still
not old enough to..*cough*..yeah. I am reserving that for the "college
year". Still fixated on Heero's personality so I'm trying to
explain the why's and the how's. This is also the first time I worked
with betas. Thanks so very much to Andie, DMx04 and Ryouga for being
such wonderful betas. I never realized incorporating all the revisions
could be such a challenge! If I missed something..gomen ne! Next time
though I'll do better! I thought of a system now.yeah now. Big cyber
hugs!
Son Of A Preacher Man Chapter 6 Summer grew unbearably hot as we plunged deeper into July. The landscape parched under the assault of a dry, unrelenting heat, everywhere I looked was brown, every headline a forest fire. Scorching temperature coaxed hordes of relief seekers into the streets, the parks, the public pools, and the roadside cafes. Together they buzzed a soul searing restlessness that was utterly contagious. Those who didn’t brave the crowds stayed home. The older folks sat in their backyards; their lawn chair unfolded under the shade of their favorite tree, dozing off into lazy, dreamless naps. The children ran through sprays from lawn sprinklers, screaming and laughing hysterically as cool water doused them with temporary escapes from the blistering summer sun. In the evening they would come together, the old and the young. The old strolling leisurely while the young ran impatiently two steps ahead only to double back when they were called. Living was easy in the summer time [1]. Several sweltering days after the Fourth of July, the snow-capped peaks surrounding the valley were bare and campgrounds above 9,000 feet were finally opened for public access. Duo was so excited I didn’t need a neon sign to tell me what he was up to. He was determined to save me from my caustic boring self, ever playing savior to my weathered soul. All I have to do was reach for the hand extended to me. He followed me around, going down his list of fifty reasons why I should go camping with him. I let him harassed me for days, pretending I wasn’t the least interested even though I made up my mind to go the minute he’d mentioned it. In retrospect, there was something unusual about the way he broached the subject, his voice a little higher and tighter than usual, his hands waving madly in exaggerating gestures even for him. I would have dwelt on it had I not been too engrossed in thoughts of sleeping arrangements in the tight confine of a two-man tent. In the days leading up to our big camping weekend, daydreaming became my other best friend. Work kept Duo and I busy until the night before. The summer sun had just dipped below the horizon when we started getting ready for our trip following a quick run to the stores for supplies. Released from the day time heat, the night air turned light and cool with a hint of summer lilac slipping through the opened window. Duo and I sat crossed-legged on the living room floor with the couch pushed back and the coffee table moved aside. Our camping gear was scattered haphazardly over the precious oriental rug my mother bought at a flea market. We argued good-humoredly while packing, unpacking and repacking our backpacks, trying to make everything fit within narrow spaces. It was amusing what we thought we might need for just one night without the comfort and amenities of civilization. Duo jokingly mentioned that we should take my mother’s old cat along so we have something to cuddle with in the freezing night. I became lost in thoughts fairly quickly. It was past midnight when Duo and I shoved the last item in my bloated pack. Duo blew out a tired breath of relief, half rolled and half crawled his weary body to the couch and sprawled facedown, muttering incoherently about coffee, giant rocks and mountain lions. I fought to suppress a snicker and threw one of my mother’s ornate pillows, one with gold trimmings and little tiny mirrors stitched in, at him. The glare sent my way was simply priceless. Not often was I on the receiving end of one, and when I was it felt oddly reassuring. I threw another pillow at him, prompting him to stagger home wearing just one shoe, grumbling that he had created a monster more excited about going camping than himself. Duo’s parting remark left me stunned at the front door, his sinewy figure receded into the dark, but his words lingered. Duo could always read me like an open book. Just thinking about spending time with Duo in "close quarters” made me giddy and excited, fearful and apprehensive all in the same reflective moment. I sat in bed that night, sleepless and fingering the silver stud earring, wondering about this train that goes nowhere. Things had been great with Duo since my little indiscretion but it couldn’t stop the inevitable from barreling down on me. It wasn’t even about him going to a different school; it was the silence he kept that paralyzed me. I thought we shared everything, talked about everything. I couldn’t reach for that extended hand and the tiny silver stud offered no resolution or comfort. I turned off the light and found solace in sleep. Nature has a twisted sense of humor and tomorrow had a mind of its own. I woke to the steady patter of rain against the window. The four corners of the room were adorned with a muted gray of gloom and lazy misery. My summer blanket wound tightly around my body as I tried to stretch the sleep from my limbs. After a fitful night, I had lost my pillows to the floor, and only one sock remained on one foot. My other foot was tugged under a soft lump, which I took to be my mother’s old cat wanting breakfast. I gave it a halfhearted nudge, willing it to jump off the bed, taking her appetite and her shedding with her but the lump didn’t move. I peered groggily at the foot of the bed and finally woke up. Duo sat at my feet with his long legs drawn up to his chest, his jaw resting on his knees, eyes watching me intently. I sat up in a flash shaking off my grogginess like a wet dog shaking off water. I caught a glimpse of the alarm clock. It was mid morning and one of its tiny buttons was in the off position. I wondered fleetingly how long had he been there and if he had turned off the alarm. A sudden warmth engulfed me when I realized that he must have watched me sleep for at least two hours. Lightning lit up the room in a blinding explosion before an ominous, earth-shattering rumble shook the rest of the morning grogginess from my body. Duo shrugged and raised his hands in defeat; disappointment was evident on his face. I stumbled out of bed and looked out the window. It was pouring down cold, wet desolation. It seemed that our parade had ended before it had even begun. I mumbled apologetically that perhaps the mountains are clear of rain, but we both knew that when thunder storms such as this roll through the area, it’s best to just stay where it’s warm, dry, and safe. Home, in other words. Flash flood warnings had probably been issued [2]. I was still staring out the window, pondering the futility of things, trying to think up some kind of Plan B when Duo said in a strained voice that he was going home. I wheeled around, meaning to ask him to stay, we could just settle on the couch and watch Planet of the Apes marathon all day on that movie channel. The thought of sharing an oversize afghan with Duo on the couch lingered briefly, sending a slight shiver down my spine. My body quavered involuntarily. Duo picked up a week-old sweatshirt draped lifeless over the overflowing laundry hamper and threw it at me, but he didn’t stay. By the time I pulled the sweatshirt over my head, he was on his way out the door, both his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans; his shoulder slumped dejectedly. I stood with the faded blue sweatshirt stuck halfway down my body, my mouth gaping, poleaxed by his uncharacteristic retreat. Granted Duo was not always cheerful, especially not before he had had his morning coffee, but he was always resourceful and was never one to be discouraged or deterred easily, setbacks only bring out the mischief in him. Some times I think he thrives on challenges, they bring out the best in him. Baffled, I scrambled after him, calling. He paused hesitantly at the bottom of the stairs, his body stiffened slightly but he didn’t stop. He left without saying another word that morning, offering no explanation to his strange behavior. I sat at the top of the stairs for a long time after he left, staring at the spot where he had paused briefly until the chills set in. I couldn’t help but think that there was more to the camping trip than he let on. I was confused but not entirely lost. Sometimes it’s not a matter of reaching for the extended hand, but rather one of extending my own. I knew it was time I do something for Duo. I spent the rest of the day rummaging in the garage, looking through all the closets in the house, and moving furniture. Duo was going to be pleasantly surprise, I would see to it. At the mean time, rain came down on us in cascading torrents. It almost seemed that the world had changed overnight; that the sun scorched earth was healing in the furious downpour and I was congratulating myself for my ‘once in a lifetime’ spurt of creativity. It was early evening when I had finished setting everything up. By then the incessant rain had lifted, leaving behind a blanket of light drizzle and the sweet smell of wet fertile earth. The streets, normally stirring with sounds of children laughing and playing until the sun had gone cold, was deserted and surreally quiet. From the front window, I could see lights in Duo’s bedroom. A familiar sight for a familiar position. Fighting back waves of nervousness and excitement, I dialed his number, drumming my fingers on the wall while I waited. Each unanswered ring seemed like an eternity. My mouth was dry and felt like sandpaper when he finally picked up the phone, I croaked for him to come over quickly and hung up. I stayed by the window and watched him crossed the road. Light rain covered him in feathery fuzziness and he broke into strides, stepping carelessly into every puddle between our houses. Muddy water splashed violently where he treaded, soaking his shoes. His unbound hair falling around his face as he moved, like soft liquid caresses. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans absentmindedly and dimmed the lights in the living room when he went through the chain-link gate, making his way to the kitchen door like I told him to. The expression on his face was a mixture of sheer surprise and incredulity when he saw the newly redecorated living room, mumbling a series of how’s, why’s, what’s and when’s before he turned to me with shimmering lights in his eyes, speechless. I was pleased with myself but I wasn’t done. I gave him a slight tap on his shoulder and pointed to the ceiling. He laughed out loud at the iridescent, glow in the dark, specks of fake stars and jabbed his finger on my chest repeatedly, telling me that it has happened at last, Heero Yuy has gone completely insane. The furniture in the living room was either moved into another room or covered up with dark colored bed sheets. Pictures of pine trees, a waterfall, a lake, a snow-capped mountain range, a few wolves and a fox cut out from magazines were taped to walls and whatever surface I could find. A couple of fishing rods were set leaning on a wall with pictures of trout hanging on it. Flickering light from an oil lamp started a ripple of dancing shadows. In the middle of the living room stood our two-man dome tent [3] and surrounding it were all the potted plants I could round up in the house. It was camping; in the great indoors. I lifted the storm flap at the entrance and immediately triggered another roar of laughter from Duo. Our sleeping bags were laid out neatly, expectantly inside the tent. What’s camping without actually sleeping inside a tent? When Duo was finally done with laughing, but was still gasping for air, we settled down in front of our tent to a dinner of roast beef sandwiches, soda and an assortment of neatly cut pieces of fruit. I was elated that a few hours of furniture moving managed to bring back that radiant smile and hearty laugh. It felt right. Dinner soon turned into several rounds of card games. When I lost everything I own: a pair of white socks, a handful of peanuts, a box of mints, and a steak dinner on payday, our game graduated to conversations starting with “do you remember the time when,” or “can you believe we got away with,” and “I wish we could do that again!” We were both tugged comfortably in our sleeping bags then, wearing only thin tee shirts and our boxers. The night was panning out perfectly. I was secretly delighted and relieved that we didn’t actually go camping in the mountains. We chatted until silence fell, both staring up at the dome ceiling. Flippi’s shadow moved from one side of the tent to the other as she circled the monstrosity taking up more than half of her domain, pawing it here and there, growling in annoyance when the tent wouldn’t budge. I turned and watched him intently. His eyes half closed with neither a smile nor a frown on his face, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, his hair pooled protectively around him. I felt a smile broke out and suddenly it didn’t matter, where he was going to school or why. If he doesn’t call, I will, if he doesn’t write, I will spam mail him, and if he doesn’t respond I will sign him up for one of those newsletter so he’d get a hundred jokes a day delivered straight to his mail box. There are always spring breaks, summer vacations, Thanksgiving holidays, and Christmas. I wouldn’t let him slip away from me; I’ve loved him too long and too much. I ...love him. It was as though a great weight had lifted off my weary heart. The chains and locks were broken and I was let out of the box I lived and grew up in. The box I built for myself because I wanted to always be safe. Tempestuous memories and emotions rolled over me until it was impossible to lie still. I propped myself up on one elbow, reaching my other hand out towards him. Startled, he turned to me, but he didn’t flinch or move when my hand landed softly on his face, my thumb brushing his cheek back and forth in slow gentle motion. He looked like he wanted it, welcomed it, me touching him. I heard my name in a soft murmur. That was all it took. Everything fell away at that instance, the ridiculously made up living room, the whispering rain, the soft breeze through the window, and the fake stars on the ceiling my mother was sure to take notice. Everything ceased to exist except for Duo. That’s when I saw him. The little boy flying high on the swing set I was too afraid to let myself go wild on. His tiny body surging through the air, swinging higher and higher, faster and faster. He could have flown away but Duo was always reaching out for me, waiting for me, never leaving me behind. Intoxicated, I moved closer and pressed my lips to his in a sweeping act of finality, capturing the elfling on the swing. I kissed him sloppily and awkwardly, nose bumping nose and teeth catching teeth. I kissed him with all my helplessness and hopelessness, I kissed him with all my fear and insecurities, and I kissed him with all my faults at hand, the good and the bad. I just wanted him to know. And when he kissed me back, he kissed me with the elusive freedom I’ve sought after all my life. The freedom to be ‘Heero’, the freedom to love, live, fall, scrap my knees and bleed. The freedom of not having to be perfect. He was smiling an impish smile when we pulled apart; his eyes shone a bright and promising light. Still propped up on one elbow, my other hand found itself flat on his chest, his healthy heartbeat resonating in my palm, grounding me and soothing me. Before I could mutter a coherent word he whispered softly and willfully, the words that made my knees weak even though I wasn’t standing. “What took you so long?” I kissed him again. TBC
2 - I live at 7,000 plus feet. When a really big storm rolls through, the mountains would get rained on too though not always. And if it were a thunder, lightning storm, you’d be a lingtning rod out there if you do go out. So Heero and Duo stay in! 3 – Dome tents normally have fittings at each corner
where the ends of each spine could be inserted. It’s not necessary
to peg down the tent to erect it but people do outdoor, because the
pegs and maybe even extra cords and such make the tent more sturdy
and secure. No flyaway tent. |
