AN: Yaoi. Violence. Lots of horrible language. Lemonade. –Grin- First person, present tense. Flame if you must. But the world is already filled with such misery! I will truly recommend you read something you actually enjoy instead! Creative criticism I think I'm big enough to handle.
Disclaimer: My policy is to only say it once. I don't own GW or anything related to it. Though I like to pretend Duo is mine –wink-. Naturally, any original characters are mine.
'I really hate you, you bastard.' He's sitting there, in the Gundam next to mine, tuning up Death with a smile in his face. Probably a song in his heart too. Fool. He's always an extreme- happy or angry, completely obvious or completely oblivious, and never in between. Right now I think he's oblivious. Oblivious to what I'm feeling. And right now that's okay. I don't want it obvious anyway. You see… there is something I've figured out recently. I'm in love with him. Bastard.
I'm disgusted with myself. Not because he's a man, mind you. No, I believe you can fall in love with whoever you damn well please. Love knows no gender. It just is. No, it's not his gender. It's him. As a person. Himself. Get it? If I have to fall in love with a man, or anyone for that matter, why does it have to be him? Khushrenada would've been the obvious choice, if you were to ask me. If I chose to answer such a foolish question, that is. Or maybe Merquise, if I were more the desperate sort. But no. No. I, Chang Wufei, had to fall in love with Duo fucking Maxwell.
I try to figure out why. What can I possibly like about him? His personality has no redeeming qualities. He's loud, obnoxious, hardheaded, and tactless. He talks too much, is completely irrational, and has little to no sense of true justice. He makes his own brand. Or perhaps he doesn't even know the meaning of the word. I've never been able to figure that one out. His sense of right and wrong baffles me. It doesn't match with mine. I'm pretty sure mine are more logical than his, even if these I have feelings are completely illogical.
"'Ey Heero! You working on Wing?" I hear him shout. I wince. He's so damn loud. And jovial.
'How can Shinigami be that way? With all the death you render? Tell me that one, Maxwell.'
Glancing down from Nataku, whom I'm supposed to be tuning instead of neglecting, I see Yuy walking across the platform to Wing. As usual, he ignores Maxwell. Though I imagine that, if he felt like talking, he would say something along the lines of "Mind your own damned business." It's what I feel like saying.
I glance at Maxwell. He is leaning forward in Death, watching him, chin propped in one hand. A stupid smile on his face. That's another problem. He's in love with Yuy. It's so blindingly obvious that even I've picked up on it. And I don't even pay attention to him. That much. Until recently.
See, he's no good at hiding things no matter how hard he tries. And he tries. I suppose I can give him credit for effort. If I must. I think the only one who's never noticed is Yuy, but that's only because he's more oblivious than Maxwell is when it comes to understanding people.
I sit back in Nataku and sigh. What is there to like about him? I glance at the object of my unwarranted desires. It must be the hair. All that damned shimmering chestnut hair. I'm disgusted with the thought. Don't get me wrong. It's nice hair. But I never thought I'd be so shallow to be a 'hair' guy.
Nataku, I am weak. If you want, you can self-destruct. Take me and these foolish feeling with you.
Again, I sigh. As usual, Nataku, you don't listen to me. I guess if I want to self-destruct I have to press the button myself. Damn again. I'm too weak for that right now. Where is justice when I need it? Give me justice!
I hear the sound of footsteps. I look out again and see Maxwell crossing the hangar floor. Probably going to offer advice that he knows Yuy won't accept. Fool. I don't understand why he gives it anyway. It's a waste of time and effort. "You're better off talking to a brick wall," I want to say. I do say. He just doesn't hear it. It's not like he'd heed my words if he did.
Not even a minute later he emerges again. Yuy must have not been in the mood to listen to him.
'Did he threaten to kill you again? I wouldn't do that, you know. I'd actually carry it out. Or not. Why do you let him? But still you are smiling. How can you do that?'
He glances at Wing, shakes his head, and off he goes. His chestnut braid flicks across the small of his back as he walks. Damn the hair.
Gah. I hate him and everything he stands for. And fuck it all... I love him too. Listen to me. He's an idiot? Ugh. I'm the idiot here. With a grunt, I turn away from the view. I'm fed up with you, Maxwell.
I pick up a wrench and finally get to work. Nataku, I've neglected you. I apologize.
It's dinnertime now. I am late of course, finishing up Nataku's repairs. I would have completed them on time if a certain stupid pilot had stayed out of the hangar. Perhaps I really should do what Yuy is always threatening to do. Kill Maxwell. It would be easy, right? Like squashing a bug. Of course, then I'd be a fugitive. The other pilots, save Yuy perhaps, would want me dead. And I suppose I just can't murder someone out of cold blood. It's against my training and oh the guilt…
Damn. I suppose he'll live.
Curse these feelings!
"Wufei! Are you going to eat anytime soon? I'm sure quality time with your Gundam seems more important, but we growing boys need nourishment! So I brought you some food anyway."
I look over Nataku's edge and there Maxwell stands. He's waving a bag in one hand and eating the huge sandwich that's in the other. Honestly, that guy eats like a bird- twice his body weight. And it's a surprise considering he's still rail thin. I suppose all his boundless energy makes him burn it off.
"Wufei, you can hear me right?" He's shouting louder.
I straighten and blink. Dammit, I'm acting like him. Staring longingly at such an exquisite- I shake my head. As if I'd stand a chance with him mooning over Yuy. "I'm not-" Shit, my voice sounds funny. I clear my throat and try again. "I'm not hungry. I've got things to do. Don't bother me."
"Harsh as always. I'll leave it on the control panel." He turns and walks off, that shimmering chestnut braid flicking maddeningly across his back. And foolish me, I stare. And I want.
"Hey… what is in the bag?" And immediately, I want to kick myself. I could've checked the fucking bag myself. But no… I had to want him to stay. For at least the second time in as many minutes, I curse these feelings.
Maxwell turns and holds up his sandwich. "One of these. No mayo. No tomato. Hey, don't give me that look. You can trust me- after you nearly killed me last time, I've learned my lesson." He grins cheekily.
I want to wipe that smile off that impish face. I… I want that smile. I want to taste that smile, that engaging smile. How did Maxwell taste? Those lips, those- Shit! What am I thinking?! I shake my head. My body is reacting to these thoughts. Stop it now, or I will self-destruct.
Shit, shit, double shit.
I slam my fist on an empty metal space inside Nataku. The pain shooting through my arm brings clarity to my thoughts. Maxwell is giving me an odd look and it's no wonder. I must look absolutely out of my mind. I am absolutely out of my mind.
"There better not be," I manage to choke out before disappearing inside Nataku again. Why can't he go away somewhere? Maybe... get himself blown up? Yes. Why does he have to inadvertently torment me!? The things I want to do to him would make a whore blush. And it is times like this that I find myself nearly too weak to resist.
Footsteps echo away and he is gone. I breathe a sigh of relief, rubbing my aching hand.
"Nataku. Next mission we will go alone…" Maybe then I will be strong enough to self-destruct.