I Never

Yosuke

PG-13 (1x2 shounen-ai)

Drama/Romance

AN: Nothing big. Just a little one-shot POV from Heero. I'd like to get it all done in one day, but unfortunately, I've been having some major firewall issues and pop-ups just keep coming. So every ten seconds, I have to stop to X out a pop-up, which really sucks. Hope it doesn't affect the story TOO much.

ALSO, this story is written much in the style of my previous story, "City Bus Stops". You'll notice if you've read it. Somehow, with POV stories, it's the only way I know how to type them. Hope ya don't mind too much. If you dislike it, lemme know in a review, and I'll try to change it.

GW not mine.

I've never felt such a strange way before. There's this odd feeling I've attained recently that gets a hold of me whenever you walk in the room. Yes, you. Duo Maxwell. How come...? I don't know. I never figured it out. Wherein I've felt you were the most annoying person in the world (and you are), I can't help but want to hear you talk sometimes, just at those moments when I feel tired, almost helpless... No... I've never felt helpless. Not even when I was rendered powerless in an OZ camp when I was aborting a failed mission. So it must be when... I'm simply tired. Exhausted. I'll complain about you talking, and tell you to stop and secretly hope you don't.

How do I confuse myself so much?

I never found any interest in looking at you, but recently, I think I've taken a liking to your eyes. Such a soft brightness, and a curiosity that won't go away. Violet against black... that's what it is. You and your damn black outfit, attempting such a gothic look all while sporting that priest's collar. I never understood the point behind that collar, but I never felt compelled to ask. And your hair has become so... interesting. Yours is the longest I've ever seen, and by far the most prettiest. For some reason that is beyond me, I admire how you manage to put it in such a tight rope in the mornings, if you had taken it out the night before. But just to see you walk is a fascination. Your braid swings... It catches my attention every time.

I never wanted you to talk, until there came a day when you wouldn't talk. It frightened me, and every now and then, I caught myself looking up from my laptop to check on you. You were sitting sadly on your side of the bed (there was only one. The safehouse we were staying in was a little under-luxuriated for most people's tastes), your shoulders slumped, your back to me. Maybe it was then that I felt helpless. You always wanted to talk, to hang all over me, to play with me, to try and get me to open up somehow, but now when the time comes when I'm willing to talk... you're silenced. By what? I could never ask. My conscience wouldn't allow it.

I never had an urge to find out about what was going on in your life. I felt it would be the same for all five of us, if I ever really wanted to count the Gundam pilots as "us". Being a part of them, for some reason, made me feel inferior. Even you. You brought down my pride, and I'll never know why. Maybe it was because you acted like such an idiot.

But for this one time, I wanted to be an idiot. I wanted to talk to YOU, to know what was wrong, to hang all over you until you admitted what was going on. You seemed so sad. All this week, ever since Sunday, you never spoke, not even spontaneously saying "Hi" when I walked in the door. And whenever I saw your eyes, the ones that held brightness and energy, I saw a feeling of being crushed. You were helpless. And so was I, because I was too proud to ask what was wrong.

I never wanted to know if you were injured, hurt in away way, shape, or form. Most of the time, I didn't care... except for recently. Recently. Recently, I've been seeing bruises. There was one on your face just the other day, though I think it's gone now.

I never felt worried for you before, but now... I am. I've even been thinking of sneaking a peak of you when you go to use the shower so I can check your body without seeming like I care. I mean, I don't want to ask you to take off your clothes. Then you'll know I'm on to something, and I can't have your suspicions right now to add to your current troubles...

Since when did I care so much about what you thought?

...Never.

I never wanted to know if you were okay until you came back to the safehouse one afternoon after attempting to find us something to eat (Whatever we had brought along in duffel bags was long gone; we hadn't eaten now in about three days.) The day before, you had gone off to some area in the nearby town, spending the night there and coming back the next morning. I wanted to ask where you had been, but that would've let on that I cared somehow, so I simply held it in.

Simply...

It was harder than it seemed.

I never once thought about how you felt before I saw you that morning, after you had come back. You looked absolutely crushed. I almost couldn't take it. Never had I felt like I had a heart that cared.

When you came back, empty-handed (I suppose it was too risky to get in the town. OZ soldiers were probably everywhere), you gave me an apologetic look and once again sank to your side of the bed, as if never expecting questions. I wanted to ask you something... anything... I just wanted you to talk. To hear your voice. You acted as if it had been stolen. If I could hear your voice, I'd know that you were really okay, and I could stop worrying. But, no, you hadn't said a damn thing and it was eating at me. Never had I wanted to talk to you so badly...

After you had gone to bed, I was still working at my laptop, filling in maintenance reports on Wing, until I heard a soft snore from the bed, and knew it was okay to sneak around. I rose and moved to your pile of clothes on the floor, shifting through the black garments for any signs of what had been troubling you lately. Nothing in the shirt or pants... the magazine in your gun was still fully loaded... then I found your jacket, and a folded-up note in the pocket. I took it out and read it thoroughly.

...Never had I heard of something so atrocious.

Someone, the one who had written this, was threatening you by volumes, offering you death for a refusal. From what I read, this was one of your lovers, a man you must've met while traveling along the colony a while ago. He sounded much older than you, and far more violently-developed (Oh, If he only knew your day-job). He talked down at you, called you names, hurt you badly... I even found parts speaking of how he had beaten you and would gladly beat you again. So, that's where the bruises came from! And threats of rape... how he had raped you several times already... I read on. There was mention of how you were away from him so often, never contacting him, never regarding his importance in your life, and how when you came back, he'd whip you, like you were his wife!

I crumpled the note, but not before memorizing the name signatured at the bottom and remembering every assault written down. The day before, when you were gone and I didn't know where you were... you had been out to meet this guy. He had beaten you and belittled you. This is why you were so timid. This is why you never spoke anymore. This is why you were so sad all the time... I felt something boil up in me, and I couldn't explain it. Why did I care so much that someone else was hurting you? Someone else was touching you? Someone else was claiming you as theirs?

I crumpled the paper tighter, then tossed it into the trash. I'd have to keep track of you from now on...

I never felt so surprised in my life when I came home to the safehouse one afternoon after looking for food myself, advising you to stay in and rest. Your bruises were more obvious this time, and you couldn't hide them. I never asked. I just told you to lie down and get better. I dreaded staying out too long, but unfortunately, that's what happened. I was resorting to catching an animal, as much as I'd have preferred taking my chances in town, before I finally gave up and hiked back through the woods to our cozy little house. It was beginning to drizzle, but I didn't mind. I never minded the rain.

When I approached the house, I saw something different. Muddy footsteps on the porch... and two figures in the window. For a moment, I heard my mind telling me to run in and save you. Obviously, someone had found our safehouse, which meant our secret was no longer safe. This person, whoever he or she was, would have to be killed.

Basic logic took over, and I was soon stealthily approaching the front door, readying the gun that I carried as a mandatory survival weapon. Very quietly, very steadily, I opened the front door and stepped inside, never once making a sound. Talking came from the living room area. Talking? Were you making friends with the intruder? I continued to creep inside. The talking broke down to one person; a male, more masculine than you. I edged to the wall and peaked around. Yes, definitely a masculine figure. His back was to me. He stood over you from your seat on the couch. You looked sad... almost... frightened. Remaining as hidden as possible, I listened in.

..."The hell are you thinking, running off on me like that!"

From where you sat, you lowered your head. "I'm sorry," you whispered. The man shook his head.

"No, that won't cut it, Duo. I'm sick and tired of having to chase after your ass every freaking time you decide you wanna go save the world! I'm not putting up with it anymore!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Nolan!"

Nolan?... That was the name from the note you had. This was the guy who was hurting you, possessing you. The hand around my gun tightened.

"Shut the hell up, Duo!" A hand was raised, you were backhanded across the face. "I'm tired of you talking! I'm tired of hearing your goddamn annoying voice! Start listening when I tell you not to talk!" Your head was twisted in the direction it was slapped, starring absently at the couch. You didn't cry like most people would've. You were stronger than that.

... I never noticed before how strong you really were.

"Duo, I told you! I'm gonna kill you if you try to run out on me again! You wanna run out? Then go for the goddamn door, I dare you!"

"No! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" you cried out, lowering your headagain. Nolan... Nolan scoffed and hit you again. You fell back against the couch this time, head resting on the torn throw pillow, eyes staring up at him. There was a long still moment before Nolan continued.

"Now," he whispered, low, almost seductively. "You gonna welcome me?" You didn't answer. He simply lowered himself to the couch, leaning on you, and kissed you. I stood, shocked, frozen in my place. Who did this guy think he was? Why was he kissing you? No, he's not allowed to! He's not allowed to kiss you! You don't belong to him!

No... soon his hands were under your shirt, rubbing at your chest, trying to get you to respond. Whether or not it felt good to you, I didn't know, but you moaned nonetheless. I could only hope that you were just trying to please him, because your hands moved to paw at his chest, childishly, almost like you were his pet. I growled, low in my throat. His hand sank down, sliding across your flat stomach... I never noticed how you had the most attractive hips... no wonder he adores you so much... but just for your body? My rage was growing, and I didn't know why.

His hand was... undoing your jeans. The zipper and button came undone, and then his fingers sank into the material of your boxers. I could hear you protest in a whimper... I growled, a little louder. He's not allowed to do this. He's not allowed to do this to you! You're not his! You don't belong to him! You're MY partner! You're for MY eyes only! I take care of you! You're MINE!

...I never felt so possessive of you in the entire time I've known you...

...I've never felt so possessive of ANYTHING in my whole life...

When your mouth broke from his, crying out for him to stop, I took the moment to run in, gun pointed at his head. (I've never charged blindly into a battle before now). When you saw me, when he heard my footsteps, you both darted up.

"Too late," I growled out, and shot Nolan in the shoulder rather

than the head. I wouldn't kill him. No, I won't do that just yet. He immediately fell unconscious and slid from the couch to the floor, groaning in pain.

When I looked at you next, you were staring at me, laying on the couch with an almost defenseless air to you. I lowered my gun as you sat up slowly, your face caught between confusion, surprise, and guilt. In the end, shame took over, and you hid your face. I think I heard you scoff.

"Hn... Guess I'm pretty dirty to you now, huh?" You looked at Nolan on the floor, blood gushing from the wound to soak into the wood. I didn't respond. "I would think so... You took the note and read it." I snapped up at that. You smiled up at me as if nothing had happened. "I saw you last night, reading it. I heard you crumple it up. I didn't say anything because it wouldn't have mattered." Just to avert my gaze, you stared back down at the unconscious man, as if expecting an answer from him. "I've just been his toy this whole while, though I guess he tries to lighten it by saying we're lovers." Silence. "...Couldn't be farther from the truth. I don't know what I did to get myself in such a mess, or why I continued to go back to him, but I've just been his pet. He loves to try and make me cry, though I never have. So he settles for screams. He loves it." I never moved. I never said anything. After a moment, you looked up at me, smiling with a false brightness. "Well, whaddya know? You're still here! I seriously expected you to turn on heel and walk out! You don't care about my stupid issues. Why the hell you listening to my bitching?"

I didn't know how to respond to that. I didn't know why I was listening. I never listened to you before. Why now? When I didn't say anything, you continued. "You gonna kill him?"

I looked a little surprised. You laughed at my expression.

"Well? I'd expect you would! I mean, he knows about the safehouse, he's threatened our safety... I figured you'd want to."

"Does he know about the Suits?" I was discreet in my words. Couldn't take the chance of Nolan faking sleep. You took the hint and shook your head.

"I never said a thing about it. I swear."

"You don't have to swear. I trust you." I knelt down to search through Nolan's pockets, finding a wallet and inspecting it. Nothing harmful. Just a regular guy with volunteer military services (and a spare condom). That's probably how he met you.

"...Heero?"

I looked up. Your eyes held shame in them again, and I felt almost sad.

"If you're mad, I can, y'know... sleep outside."

"Don't be ridiculous." I put my gun away and started on trying to find where to dump this guy. I figure the edge of the forest ought to work. "You'll sleep in the bed just like you've been doing. And tomorrow, we'll both go into town to get food." After a moment, I added, "This guy isn't touching you anymore."

I was taken aback when I felt a pressure around my neck that was your arms. I could only see the side of your braid, that pretty hair I've taken a liking to. Your body... was too warm. Like you were ill, but it still felt pleasant. Your face buried into my neck, you stayed like that for a long time, not making a sound, not moving except to shift your arms or press your small hands around my back. I didn't move, either. I was dumbstruck.

"Sorry, Heero. I know this seems ridiculous and weak to you, but I gotta... feel something comfortable right now. And, believe it or not, you're very comforting to me. Especially right now..."

I didn't reject you. I let you stay there. When you seemed eased, you pulled back, and I caught a glimpse of what looked like... a blush. You hid your face as you stood and moved to Nolan's legs, reaching down and grabbing him by the ankles. "I'll take him into the forest somewhere. I'll be right back."

"No," I stopped you, standing and grabbing your arm. You looked at me, surprised. "We'll both go. If he wakes up, I have to be able to protect you." When I said that, I realized the meaning you took in it, and I quickly tried to disguise it. "It's because you'll be such an idiot and let him beat you again."

"Yeah," you sighed, smiling. I moved to flip the man over, hooking my arms under his arms and lifting him. You grabbed his ankles, and we both carried him out.

That night, we both went to bed at the same time. It was one of those chilly nights, where the sheets offered very little protection from the cold, and we ended up layering ourselves for sleep. I recalled, at one point in the night, I shifted, causing the bed to move a little, and you suddenly woke up, a panicked expression on your face (from what I could see in the dark), and stared at me in horror. I guess you couldn't see through the dark very well at the moment and just stared at me before I called your name. You eased, and laughed a little. "Oh, Heero, it's just you," you had said. I tensed at that. You thought I was Nolan. You were still afraid. But you'd never show it. You'd never admit it. You were really... strong.

It became increasingly colder, and you actually began to scoot closer to me, tensing as if expecting me to push you away. Your arms were bundled up around my arm, holding on tightly and pushing your body to my side, nuzzling your head to my shoulder. I couldn't understand why I enjoyed this. I never liked this before. Why didn't I push you away. To my surprise, in fact, I turned on my side to face you, putting a hand on your arm, rubbing to cause some friction and warm you up. You smiled and closed your eyes, resuming sleep.

The silence in the night continued, nothing bothering us... except for an urge in me... Something bringing me closer and closer to you as you slept. What was it? I would've never figured it out if I hadn't gone through with the next unconscious action...

I kissed you.

While you slept, I leaned in and kissed you, chaste, on your lips, that pretty mouth I always found myself staring at. What's wrong with me? I knew what it was. I finally knew what was wrong with me, why I admired your hair, your body, your bright eyes, and longed to hear you talk, to play with me.

I loved you.

I never knew a feeling like this before.

I never felt like this before.

I never did. Never.

Until now.

Ze end.
AN: Ah, the romance is boundless. And here I thought I had totally given up on romance. Well, straight romance. Not the fluffy "I love you, my love, love of my life, love me back, lovey-dove, let us to be together forever, my love"... Not that crap. GAY ROMANCE! WHOO! Yeah, so... assuming you've read the story now, could ya possibly, maybe... review? Pwease? My love?