Disclaimer: Not mine! ^__^
Warnings: 1+2+1, Shounen Ai. Sap. Ficlet.
Notes: Prize for Ryouga’s line challenge fic ‘Dear Sally’. Hope you like
it even a little bit, hon.
Heero crept up the stairwell.
His faded clothing clung to him, as did the surrounding darkness. The
stillness of pre-dawn enfolded the building. Only the parasites were awake
and aware of him. Their skittering began at dusk and did not cease till
the last star faded from sight. These free tenants took notice of the
visitor and gave him a wide berth.
He came to the highest floor. The moth-eaten carpet stretched away from
him, beckoning. Down the hall, at the end, was a familiar door. It was
scratched and spray-painted. The number 666 had received some wear since
he had last seen it. His mouth twitched absently at the remembered joke
between them. He raised his hand to knock, then wondered if the key was
still imbedded the frame. His fingers sought its outline, half in memory.
The living room was bare of furniture save for a battered, olive green
sofa. An assortment of pictures donned the walls; there were prints of
geometric paintings, photos of old friends and newspaper clippings. The
curtains were drawn. Heero crossed the naked floorboards to a closed door.
He rested his hand on the knob and hesitated. Little had changed in his
absence thus far. Yet a sinking feeling unearthed the possibility that
the greatest alterations lay before him, within the room beyond. After
three years, everything would be different and a million scenes occurred
to him. A million different shocks and pains. Still, he opened the barrier,
while barely conceived hopes and dreads fluttered through his chest.
A bullet whizzed past his ear.
Duo stood in the doorway; his hybrid eyes were alight with anger. One
fist tightened around a baseball bat, the other clenched a gun. He squinted
into the dim. Heero stepped closer to him, into the watery lamplight of
the bedroom. The sheets were mussed, but empty. On the dresser stood a
picture of them together. Duo's arms dropped to his sides, in sync with
his jaw. Heero coughed. He gestured at the other man's hands.
"I didn't realize we parted that badly," he said.
"I-I . . . aah . . . wow. Jesus, Heero, I could've killed you!" Duo stared
-- bewildered -- at the weapons he held. The revolver thudded to the floor.
"I doubt it. Fortunately, you didn't take a swing at me with that thing,
" Heero indicated the bat, "You were never any good at with a gun."
"Mass destruction works better," Duo replied -- an old answer. He gave
the 'intruder' a long look. Silence settled in the room.
"I . . .wasn't sure if I should come here," Heero looked at the floor,
then into the other's eyes. "I can leave if you want."
Duo stepped toward him. He gave Heero one last measuring glance; his eyes
were a peculiar shade of blue and purple which wavered with his moods.
Now they were a soft violet. He pulled the other man into a tight hug,
which Heero returned immediately.
"You're always welcome here, moron," Duo said in his ear.
It was good to be home.
to Lyssira's fic]