"This Beautiful Life"

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters

Rating: R

Warnings: Romance & Friendship

Pairings: 2x5, others will be present but subtle.

Summary: 3 years after cutting ties with everyone from the war, WuFei Chang gets into a car accident in his way home from a company Christmas party and wakes up to another life.

"This Beautiful Life"

Chapter 7

Duo flipped the vid-phone off and startled when he turned to see WuFei hobbling into the kitchen. He flustered a bit, wondering how much the Chinese boy had heard, but there was no indication he'd heard anything.

WuFei placed his empty mug into the sink and looked expectantly to Duo.

"That was Trowa," Duo stated, motioning to the vid-phone. Surprise passed over WuFei's features but flittered away when he brought his expression under control.

"You still speak with Trowa," he commented.

"Yes, we do. He was wondering if we were still meeting for lunch tomorrow," Duo went on, a bit of impatience edging his tone that he quickly covered up. He folded his arms across his chest, leaned against the wall.

WuFei frowned at the kitchen-tiled floor, shifting his weight to his right side, "It won't bother me if you go out. I'll stay and read. I assume I have books. I don't want to interfere with your life."

"No way," Duo groaned, "I'm not going by myself. He's your friend!"

"My friend...?" WuFei startled.

"Don't get me wrong, he's my friend too, yeah, I like the guy," Duo continued, folding his hands behind his head and frowning at the ceiling, "We just don't have much to talk about. The last time we met up without you was pure torture. Talk about bo-ring!"

"And what exactly do he and I talk about?"

"What don't you two talk about? You get started on philosophy, politics, literature and the conversation never ends. I usually just sit back and shoot spitballs at that asshole waiter who just has to hit on you every time we go to Kimi-chan's. Seriously, what part of 'taken' does that guy not understand? He honestly thinks you're playing hard to get every time you blatantly ignore him. Hell, you didn't even know he was hitting on you until I pointed it out. Love your oblivious side, babe, but it was kind of obvious. The douche undresses you with his eyes whenever he looks at you."

WuFei felt his cheeks go red as Duo crossed the room to stand in front of him, a big grin in place, hands tucked into his pockets. The shy Chinese boy was having a hard time understanding how he could've gotten used to the talkative American, the longwinded explanations were overwhelming and the unshakeable cheer was grating his nerves.

Trowa is your friend. The wordsechoed in WuFei's head as he tried to grasp their meaning. He and Trowa were friends. He and Trowa spoke regularly on a multitude of subjects. He, WuFei Chang, had a friend.

As with Duo, the last he could recall seeing the stoic former pilot of Heavyarms was at the Winner Christmas party three years ago. They hadn't exchanged any words; no greeting or pleasantries. Trowa had given him a dark look from across the room, quick and decisive, before turning his attention elsewhere.

Even during and after Duo's drunken outburst they hadn't so much as looked at one another. The very idea that they could be friends was so far-fetched WuFei was more likely to believe he regularly paraded around the house in a frilly pink skirt.

Of course, during the first war there had been brief moments of comfortable silences between the two boys. They'd exchanged a calm, meditative understanding of one another. It had been Trowa who'd given WuFei refuge from himself after that first duel with Treize, enemy leader of OZ.

During the second war, there had been a sort of relief when Trowa joined Mariemea's cause, even as part of WuFei knew that it was an act of subterfuge. Maybe that was why he was quick to accept the skilled infiltrator into their ranks, instead of calling him out as what WuFei had known even then that he was: a double agent.

"Don't call me that," WuFei finally stammered and the grin faltered slightly on Duo's face. He recovered quickly though, heading for the refrigerator and looking over its contents.

"If you really don't want to go, I can call Tro back and just let him know you need rest. Motorcycle accidents make great excuses for getting out of just about anything," Duo called over his shoulder.

"No. I'll go," WuFei startled himself with the answer. Duo smiled warmly at the other boy.

"Great," he exclaimed, "I'm glad to hear that. Trowa will be happy, too. He was worried about you."

WuFei stared openly at the braided boy, "Really?"

"Hm...? Yeah. He wouldn't have called if he weren't. Hey, you hungry? I'm going to start some dinner. I know they gave you food before we left but that was hospital food, doesn't really count."

Duo snickered when he caught the uncertainty on his companion's face.

"You gave me that same look the first time I offered to cook when I came to live with you," he said, pulling some items from the cold box.

WuFei felt his face warm.

"I see you still find amusement at my discomfort," he commented quietly, walking across the room to study the vid-phone.

Duo began towards him, then stopped midway as though having second-thoughts about whatever action he'd planned to take. He stood lost a moment in the middle of the floor watching the other boy slowly moving through their shared kitchen.

The kitchen décor would not have been something WuFei would pick out. It had a country air to it, jars shaped like barnyard animals, wallpaper decorated with vegetables, warm autumn colors. For crying out loud, the refrigerator was canary yellow; it had more photographs of the two boys with friends and in various locations around the world and colonies, pinned to the door with cute magnets featuring cartoon animals and food with faces. Homey, was the word, the kitchen was homey.

WuFei thought of his refrigerator in Bergonia, deep black. The rest of the kitchen was stainless steel appliances, stark white walls, black and white tiled floor. Cold, sterile, untouched.

This kitchen he now stood in would not have been something he'd pick, but not for lack of want. There was something about it that tugged at buried emotions, something...something familiar. It reminded him of...

"My grandmother..." he mumbled.

"Hm?" Duo perked, then grinned, "Oh, yeah. Grandma Shoe-lin..ba..ugh...crazy Chinese name I can't pronounce."

WuFei glanced to the braided boy, "Xiurong Qi"

"Right, her. You told me you wanted a kitchen like hers when we started decorating. That she'd had the warmest kitchen, that being inside of it was the only time you ever truly felt..."

"...at home," WuFei murmured.

Duo folded his hands behind his head and nodded, hopefulness shimmering in his eyes. He waited, uncharacteristically silent as WuFei finished surveying the room. Dark ebony eyes settled on cobalt.

"Foolish sentiment. I can hardly believe I've become so weak," WuFei grumbled. Hope quickly scurried from Duo's face. "I am not hungry, thank you. But I am tired. Where do I sleep?"

"Uh...well," Duo dropped his arms to his side and headed for the living area once more, saying over his shoulder, "Our room is down this hall."

WuFei frowned, pausing in the door-frame from the kitchen looking sidelong down the hall at his retreating companion. His stomach dropped as he repeated dumbly, "Our room."

Duo sighed. He opened the door and looked to WuFei. It caused a stitch of pain in WuFei's chest while a nice bit of color tinged his cheeks. Of course they shared a room, it was stupid of him to sound surprised. He tried not to think about what types of things they did in that room.

"I think I'll take the couch," WuFei murmured.

Duo made a face.

"Po did say to go about things as normally as possible," he joked, smirking suggestively enough to rush all the blood straight to WuFei's head and then resignedly offered before the other boy could process the full extent of that comment fast enough to decide he ought to kill Duo for it, "Look, you take the bed. I'll take the couch."

"Maxwell, I couldn't..."

"It'll be a nice change," Duo cut in, letting slide the formal use of his adopted surname, "You always take the couch when we fight, and when you're in tip-top shape, I can't really beat you in a wrestling match for it."

WuFei flustered. He opened his mouth to protest again and Duo held up a silencing hand.

"Alright, if you really want the couch you can have it," Duo relented, then with a sly glint in his eye, "You'll just have to race me for it."

Testing the weight on his injured leg, WuFei assessed the situation. Duo was quick, but in optimal shape WuFei had always been faster and...what the hell was he doing? He shook his head furiously and glared at the grinning braided idiot.

"I am not racing you for the couch," he growled.

"Of course you aren't," Duo replied. He sauntered by, swiping a finger across the chagrined WuFei's nose, and plopping onto the couch with his arms folded under his head, "Because I'm taking it. Unless..." he sat up a bit to peek at WuFei surreptitiously, "You want to share?"

WuFei hobbled down the hallway, fighting down the heat in his face and choosing to ignore the muffled snickers at his back.

There was no way.

No way in this Earth.

No way in Hell.

Definitely no way in Heaven.

No way in that idiot's dreams.

Just no way he, WuFei Chang, had ever, ever, been in love with Duo Maxwell.

The room was surprisingly sparse in contrast to the rest of the house. There was a Queen-sized mattress in the center of the room layered with more blankets and pillows than WuFei could ever imagine being necessary. In Bergonia, he slept with a single blanket and a firm pillow, neatly made every morning, pressed flat and smoothed, with hospital corners. Everything on this bed was frumpy and hastily thrown together.

Walls were bare. Two unmatched lamps sat on either side of the headboards, providing the only light in the room. There was a large window across from the bed but its shades were drawn shut and the sun had long ago set.

There was a powder blue bureau dresser along one wall. A couple framed pictures lined it, and there were a few books held up by gargoyle bookends. Tacky, WuFei thought. They must be Duo's. To the right, WuFei could see a path towards a large walk-in closet and then the master bathroom.

This room felt different than the rest of the house. A kind of different WuFei could not place his finger on but it quickened his heart and gripped his stomach tight. If he were to believe Duo's story of their past three years together, then this would be the place where the two boys were closest, more intimate, more...

WuFei blushed. He worked his way into the room, studying, examining, taking it all in and attempting to process. He was overwhelmed by the number of pictures in the house, his apartment had none.

Of those on the dresser, one was of the Gundam pilots, all five dressed in Preventer uniforms lined up and looking stern-faced at the camera. They were at a ceremony of some sorts. The other was at a party, by the colors, WuFei would guess Christmas. It only pictured he and Duo, dressed in nice suits, Duo latched on to his shoulders, his own arm looped behind the other boy's back.

WuFei furrowed his brow. Strange. Duo looked different in that portrait than the boy down the hall lounging on the couch, different even from the boy of his distant memories. In the picture, he looked more slender, almost gaunt, a little tired and rundown, but his grin was the same.

WuFei shook his head, chalked it up to imagination. He moved on, running his fingers along the spines of those lined up books and quickly skimming their titles. A book of Buddhist koans and beside it a tiny book of Prayers, The Complete Works of Nietzsche, Sun Tzu's Art of War, a book by the Dalai Lama, and...WuFei drew his hand back, raising a brow.

"The Kama Sutra," he read aloud, disbelieving.

"It was a gift," came a voice at the door.

WuFei nearly fell in his attempt to spin around. Duo leaned against the door-frame, arms folded over his chest.

"Before you go blaming it on me," Duo continued, nonchalant, "It was a gag gift from the White Elephant at last year's Christmas party. You should have seen your face when you unwrapped that book..." He shook his head, lost in chuckles at the remembered expression, "Gave me fodder for the rest of the night, God bless whoever had the good sense to buy that thing. The dog-eared pages, for your information, weren't me either."

For a split second, WuFei decided that the other boy's laughter was actually a pleasant sound and that it was nice to hear again after so long, then the continued chatter immediately and vehemently forced the thought from his mind.

"Did you need something?" WuFei demanded.

"Oh yeah," Duo winced, reeling his mirth in and stumbling sheepishly through his next words, "Uh...I just came to check on you. You look alright though...so...I guess I'm going to leave you to rest."

"Yes. Thank you."

Duo started away. Paused on a second thought and said, "Um...the red toothbrush is yours. Top drawer left-hand side, for tooth paste..."

"Ah. Yes."

Duo continued out the door but only disappeared for a few seconds before popping back in, "Clothes...you have the right half of the...uh...dresser and closet."

WuFei felt a smile forming on his lips. Commanded it away and replaced it with irritation at the other boy's behavior.

"I'll be fine, Maxwell. Thank you," he growled. Duo nodded, eyes downcast.

"Right," he sighed, "Uh...yeah...sleep well."

Due slipped from sight and, after a few seconds, WuFei closed the door. He took a seat on the bed, eyes roving over the empty room. It occurred to him the possibility that Duo had lingered in hopes WuFei might change his mind, ask the other boy to share the bed. The couch couldn't be comfortable, and there was an odd kind of emptiness to sitting in a room down the hall from the only other inhabitant in the building; knowing that other person is there but separated by walls and endless space.

The realization flushed through WuFei, and he scowled, angry that he should even feel remotely guilty about the entire ridiculous situation. He plunged back into the mountain of blankets and pillows, growling in exasperation, and taken aback by the strange feeling swarming over him. The bed, despite all its excessive and unnecessary accoutrements, was surprisingly comforting, overly soft and drenched in a not-unpleasant scent reminisce of apple spice.

~ * ~

Chapter 8

Back to Single Authors Index

Back to GW Authors Index.