July 26th
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Title: July 26th
Author: Genji
Thanks: Echo, for listening to my delusional idea and giving me the
inspiration to write it down.
Category: 91 Fic Challenge
Rating: R
Warnings: AU (a couple minor details, but I'm compelled to do so...), citrus (lime, I'd think at most...)
Notes: As promised this is another POV fic, b/c I am insane and said
that I would.
Pairing: 6x2x6 (implied, but not really talked about) 13 x 2
Disclaimer: I don't claim to own anything, much less own anyone. So,
you can't sue me for something I don't own.
Duo's POV
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It was supposed to be something special, and I guess it was.
Certainly a night I'll never forget.
It was after the war, probably three years or so, I can't remember it
to the day. No, that's not true, it was 7/26, a number that I should
remember as easily as my own birthday and New Year's Day.
I had spent the first year of release from the living hell, as I've
grown to call the period of time when I piloted a weapon of mass
destruction known as Deathscythe, chasing after a fellow pilot. Of
course he didn't share my views on the whole 'follow your emotions'
thing that he preached to the rest of us. It might've helped if he
had some to follow. Anyway, I grew tired of being rebuffed and
escaped on July 26th.
But that's not why the date is important.
I had gone to a bar in order to drown my sorrows. The barkeep looked
at my fake ID and watched as I smiled sweetly, imitating the pose
that my 'driver's license' held. Supposedly my name was Sebastian
MacDuff, age 22. The man just shrugged as I ordered a beer. I
wanted to start light and then proceed to drink myself into
oblivion. I had yet to put the mug to my mouth when someone called
out, "Maxwell!"
A familiar face sat down in the stool next to mine. It's hard to
forget bright blond hair that long, or eyes that blue. It seemed
funny to me to see him without that familiar mask. I grinned, glad
that there was someone here who knew my name. The man who had served
me a drink raised a knowing eyebrow. I shook my head and, luckily,
his attentions were pulled away by some rowdy crew demanding 'drinks
all around.'
I was about to pour the contents of my glass down my parched throat
when my companion pulled on my braid, no one's ever done that--
besides Heero, and even then it was only malice.
"I didn't know you were old enough to drink, Maxwell."
"Aren't. But neither are you, Zechs. Or is it Milliardo now?"
The angelic face showed its disgust at the latter name. "They're
both the same. They both did and said foolish things."
"Ahh, so is it bird-man Zechs, or trench coat Milliardo (1)?"
Zechs ignored me. "As to your question, I am of age. Turned 21 not
too long ago. What brings you here? I thought you didn't drink."
"Why do most of these men come here?" I asked, gesturing to crowded
smoke-filled room. In the corner a jukebox was playing some mournful
tune ("You look so good in love. You want him, that's easy to see.
You look so good in love. I wish you still wanted me…(2)"}. "Pick
up women? I haven't seen one since I walked in the door."
"They're here to drown their troubles--least that's what it seems."
"Bingo. Now if you'll excuse me," I said, returning to my untouched
drink.
"Funny we should be here at the same bar."
I shrugged. "Consequences and coincidence. What brings you here?"
"The same reason as you, I gather."
"Trouble in paradise?"
"You could say that. I've been cast out of Eden."
"What poisoned apple sent you here, down in the nether regions of
society?"
"Him. You never do see it until it's too late," Zechs remarked
mournfully, ordering a scotch on the rocks.
"Whatcha mean?" I asked, suddenly interested.
"Wufei's finally turned of age. He didn't have to keep it a secret
anymore."
"Who?"
"Who? Who do you think it would be? Trieze. Trieze finally
admitted that he'd been cheating on me with an under-aged boy who had
just turned 18 and the statute of limitations had run out. There was
no need for me any more." Zechs paused, and then added bitterly
under his breath, "He found a new play toy."
"That's hard news," I offered. I've never been good at consoling
people. Distract `em, yeah, but console `em? That's Quatre's
department.
"So what's your story of woe?"
"Idiocy. You'd think I'd have learned sooner. Some people are just
born without much emotion."
"So you finally gave up on Heero?"
"What else could I have done? You can only push me so far before
even I break. I don't know. I'm not in any mood to talk about it,
and this smoke's giving me one killer headache."
"Then let's get out of here."
Afterwards we got to know each other very well. It's funny how nice
people can be when you're not trying to kill each other. Time flew
by, and July 26th rolled around. We celebrated our first anniversary
by moving in together.
Another year passed, which leads me to our second anniversary. I
wanted it to be perfect after the moving fiasco, which occurred
because we were headed to Earth, while my luggage was on its happy
journey--to Mars.
I had everything planned out, candles, and a light white wine
(anything but red) to go with our meal. I've never been an
accomplished cook, but what I can--well, it's worth the mess that's
made in the process. However, someone up there conspired against us
and I was left with a cold dinner and candle stubs. Zechs had been
called away to some colony on a Preventer's mission. Couldn't they
have picked another day--any other day?
I settled down on the bed, with a wineglass in my hand.
"Here's to unplanned events, Zechs. Hope your anniversary is better
than mine," I remarked distastefully, and drank deeply, trying to
banish the 'what ifs' that started to torment me.
What if I hadn't walked away two years ago? Would a different lover
be here beside me, instead of the one I have now who was somewhere
else obeying whatever orders that she-wolf at the head of the
Preventers threw his way?
I refilled my glass, watching the pale liquid--the same color as his
hair--swish about in my glass. I smiled wryly at the thought, and
the contents followed the fate of the first.
I don't know how many glasses I drank--I lost count after eight.
Undoubtedly it was enough to cast me into a deep slumber--lying there
on the bed, with candles all around and an uneaten banquet spread out
for the taking, but untouched, my dreaming mind ran wild and free.
------------------
I awoke after Zechs had come home, it was dark, and he crawled into
bed next to me. He kissed me, his tongue invading that opening with
impeccable skill.
"Oh, how I've missed you," he whispered, nipping at my ear.
I moaned slightly, as hot kisses were trailed down my neck. Teeth
nibbled at the flesh, which were amended by an apologetic lick.
Fingers fumbled with the buttons on my shirt. He had obviously
helped himself to the contents of the bottle, which had somehow made
it to the bedside table, and not the floor. I tried to help him, but
I was as wasted as he.
By some miracle both of us got undressed without too much damage.
"It's been awhile," he whispered, returning to his previous task, but
this time continuing down my chest. He paused at one of my nipples,
and teased it, his tongue circling around the sensitive area, getting
closer to the tip of the hard nub with each revolution. However, I
had little patience for such foreplay, tangling my fingers in his
hair--his *short* hair-- I pushed him further down, where his
lavishing attention was desperately wanted--needed.
"Why's your hair so short?" I asked, feeling the silky strands
beneath my fingers. My fogged mind told me someone else had short
hair, but *who* exactly remained out of reach, as a tongue dipped
into my navel. I applied pressure my lover's head, where I ached
with unfulfilment.
"I had it cut this morning," came the response. If there was more, I
must've missed it.
We ravaged each other that night, both having been starved for
another's body for so long. Zechs was always busy with work--which
was Zechs' problem and Zechs was always busy with work--which was my
problem. I don't know what time I fell asleep in those strong arms
of his, probably around 4, because my hangover had started kicking in.
-----
The squeaking of the front entrance's hinges awoke me, they hadn't
been oiled in a while, and it showed. Someone was putting their keys
down on the table. I wondered who that could be as I snuggled closer
to the man that held me. The door to the bedroom opened and Zechs
stood there.
"Sorry about last ni-" he froze, and I sleepily wondered what was
wrong. Why was my lover standing there with his mouth hanging open?
I hadn't done anything wrong, had I? I had spent the night making
love to him, didn't he remember? I tried to sit up, but two arms
clasped around my chest stopped me.
"Zechs, sto-"
I looked to the doorway where Zechs was standing, his own arms
crossed over his chest. I looked down at the two limbs embracing me.
"Shit. You can't be two places at once. What the hell happened?"
"Why don't you ask him?" Zechs said evenly, on the verge of either
laughing or crying.
I twisted my head to see who held me. Under ginger bangs, cool blue
eyes opened half way. They were clouded with the remnants of a
mixture of sleep and the lingering effects of alcohol. The two arms
tightened about my chest as the man remarked to me, "Good morning,
Zechs."
~owari~
(1) Ask Scheherazade. He looks like a bird in one of her manga's,
and Trench-Coat Milliardo…ze evil dude…um, just ask her if you're
confused…
(2) Country song they useta play forever and ever and ever until you
wanted to chuck the radio out the window. Of course, I'm a little
poor to be paying for broke windows, so I just changed the station…no
clue who it's by. It's been over 5 years since I've heard it. You
don't expect me to remember that much, do you?
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© 2001 by Genji. Please do not remove without permission.
