Title: Paradise and Earth's Anger
Author: Mookie
Pairing: Heero/Duo
Warnings: graphic m/m sex
Word count: 2,232
Category: vignette
Notes: Written in response to KwyckSylver's songfic challenge using Supertramp's The Logical Song.

Heero's nose twitched in slumber, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his lids.

His dreams often came after he'd see parents with their children. Mothers strolling hand in hand with their toddlers, fathers playing catch with their sons.

Earlier that day his attention had been caught by a young man in his mid-twenties, with a boy of about five. They were flying a kite.

Heero had found his eyes riveted on the bright swatch of fabric against the blue of the sky, its tail fluttering behind it like a jet stream.

He'd never cease to be amazed at the myriad shades of blue that the sky held, so different from the predictable hues on the colonies.

It had made him feel wistful, watching the interaction between father and son, although he had never figured out why.

He'd suspected it might have something to do with Odin Lowe. Granted, his childhood was a patchwork of memories and gaps of same, but there were fond recollections as well. It hadn't always been nothing more than lessons and training, although those had been the things that he most associated with his youth.

How to properly hold a gun. How to shadow someone undetected. How to kill someone at both close range and from a distance.

How to light a fire without a match.

Mother Nature was a capriciously moody termagant, he'd noted as the sky became overcast. Families started to pick up their belongings, and the bright laughter faded to the sounds of hustle and bustle.

Funny how a joyful afternoon of careless frolicking could come to such an abrupt end.

Heero himself had experienced a few days, a few stolen moments, in which he'd allowed himself to enjoy a job well done, had given himself over to the warmth of the light overhead, to the smell of freshly mown lawn, and the twittering of birds.

Every colony he'd ever been on was much the same. They were all designed to mimic earth's atmospheric conditions and seasonal cycles as much as was practical. A given amount of daylight, measured precipitation, carefully selected strains of flora and fauna, capable of surviving in a greenhouse environment.

Mankind was expected to adapt - had been doing it for millennia, long before the first human had ever set foot on extraterrestrial ground.

Still, it was easy enough to appreciate the wonder of technology that allowed colonial citizens to have hills and flowers and a close approximation to sunshine.

He'd allowed himself to enjoy it once, to act his age, and he'd paid for it later.

He continued to pay for it, even now, even in his sleep. He moaned slightly.

Practicality, logical progression, understanding of cause and effect - all of these had been encouraged throughout his development. Not like a student, but rather like a photograph.

When he'd mourned the outcome of his actions, that had not been part of the bigger picture. He'd been cold, numb, and hadn't even realized it had been noticed. J had argued in his favor, that much Heero remembered, but he'd been overruled.

Heero had accepted it; there had been no choice, really. However, there was part of his mind that clung to that thought. Someone had cared enough to argue on his behalf, to protest his retraining.

How did one retrain a killer? Through reprogramming. Odin's words of advice were relegated to a corner of his mind and hidden well.

Guilt, regret, sorrow, and sympathy - these were extemporaneous, and Heero was to do nothing that wasn't in his mission parameters. Success was its own reward, and failure just another teacher.

Heero had never given it much thought when J had finally selected a code name for him to use. He supposed he might have appreciated the irony a bit more, a killer bearing the name of a pacifist. To do so, however, would mean he possessed a sense of humor.

Heero didn't understand Doctor J. The man had picked him off the street, provided him with a home, a purpose. Had encouraged his inquisitive mind, and seemed pleased with his progress on a personal level.

J had understood too well the way Heero's mind worked.

He had always given him choices.

Had J understood him better than he'd ever understood himself? Sometimes he'd felt that was true - and not just about J.

Still asleep, Heero's brows drew together. His hand reached out, searching for something, even as he continued to dream.

He'd had more questions than answers ever since he'd landed on earth. Why couldn't he kill Relena? Why hadn't he died after he'd self-detonated? Why had he gone to Duo for help when the Vice Foreign Minister had been kidnapped?

After that entire incident, he'd taken off for a while, needing to find who Heero Yuy was, when he wasn't a terrorist, or Gundam pilot, or a self appointed protector of peace.

In the end, after all, he was the only one who could answer that question.

He'd come up not exactly empty, but lacking satisfaction with what he had discovered. It was more a case of finding what he wasn't than what he was, but it was better than nothing.

It was not enough.

He'd tried consulting news articles, religious texts, and even gossip columns, seeking for that something more, to no avail.

Heero's hand, still blindly searching the bed sheets, found what it was looking for. He pulled the warm hand to his chest and tightened his fingers around it.

When he felt the faint touch of lips on his forehead, his eyes snapped open.

"Nightmares?" Duo asked, giving his hand another reassuring squeeze.

Duo had had his own way of finding himself, and Heero had envied him that until it occurred to him that Duo didn't have all the answers either.

Underneath a light-hearted exterior raged someone much like himself, someone who despised what he'd done in the name of peace, who questioned his reasons for being part of the operation in the first place, who suffered the same nightmares. Who would likely continue to do so until he was old and gray.

They faced a lifetime of occasional sleeplessness following events replayed in their minds, enhanced subconsciously by their guilt.

Nothing less than he'd deserved, Heero had thought when it pertained to just him.

Then he'd met up with Duo again. That's when he'd realized he had a rather selfish view of what was proper penance for his actions.

Did any of them truly deserve to be haunted to the end of their days? Quatre, Trowa, Wufei?

Probably, to some extent.

It wasn't as bad, he'd realized, the dreams, the nightmares, reliving the loss of innocence. No, not as bad, when there was someone there to hold his hand through the worst of it, to shoulder his weight when he couldn't keep his head upright any longer. Someone who willingly let him return the favor.

They'd first become sexually involved shortly after moving in together. One night it was Duo who had awakened suddenly, breathing harshly.

In the silence of their apartment, Heero, unable to fall asleep, had heard him. He'd done what Duo had done for him when he was the one recovering from a vivid nightmare. He'd gone to Duo's room, to his side, and waited.

Duo had clung to him that night, or perhaps he'd clung to Duo, absorbing the comfort as much as giving it. He'd taken to murmuring reassurances into Duo's hair, his lips moving soundlessly across the tangled strands.

When Duo took a deep breath and pulled away from him, his lips had slid from Duo's temple to the middle of his forehead.

Next thing he knew, they were kissing.

He couldn't honestly remember who had started it, and things had progressed from there, although they'd only indulged in mutual groping, their bodies only relaxing after they'd attained release.

Not the emotional one they'd sought, but it was something.

They continued with that something every time one of them had a nightmare, because it was all they had.

Tonight, as with every restless night he'd had, Duo knew what Heero needed, something that defied description.

Heero wanted exoneration, but more than that, he wanted acceptance. He wanted a sense of belonging.

The best way to soothe the feelings of worthlessness was to bury himself into Heero, to show he wasn't disgusted by him, to let Heero know he was willing to be accepted by Heero in return. The same thing that Heero did for Duo, when it was his turn to be plagued with self-loathing.

It might not have been the healthiest route to take, but it worked for them. They were friends in the light of day, and into the night, but when self-recrimination ate away at their souls, they found absolution in each other's arms.

Strong hands stroked Heero's hair and back, strong arms enveloped him in a hug, then the affection was replaced by animalistic intent as Duo's touches inflamed rather than comforted.

Heero ground his teeth together to keep the hiss of air from escaping as Duo prepared him, then himself. Heero got on his hands and knees and Duo's hands were on his hips.

The head of Duo's cock slipped past the tight ring of muscle and Heero grunted slightly, then pushed himself back to accept more of Duo.

Duo slid his hands up Heero's sides and wrapped his arms around his ribcage as he pulled Heero into a seated position, fully sheathing himself.

They remained like that for a moment, and Duo felt Heero's racing heartbeat under his forearms, and the pulsing sensation that surrounded his cock.

He released Heero enough to anchor himself firmly, then snapped his hips forward again. With each thrust, Heero forced his own body backwards, his breathing ragged.

If Duo didn't know better, he'd say it sounded like Heero was crying.

He pounded into Heero relentlessly, biting his own lip as he felt the contractions. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the warmth surrounding him, and then opened them again, to watch the lines of tension in Heero's body.

It was a different kind of tension. Gone was the weight of the world from Heero's shoulders. Instead, Heero's entire frame was taut and waiting for release, and Duo couldn't deny he found it an incredible turn-on, knowing that very release would be at his hands.

Literally.

He gently rolled one of Heero's testicles between his fingers, slowing down only long enough to tease first one, then the other. His hand roamed from there to Heero's thigh, then returned to Heero's abdomen.

Heero's back was arching, and Duo sped up again, slamming into Heero as if it was his first time.

Sometimes it seemed like it was.

He heard his own harsh panting, and then his body stiffened as he came, filling Heero. He pulled Heero back up to his chest and breathed into his ear until the climax subsided.

Heero was still hard, but that was not unusual. Duo's fingers wrapped around Heero's erection, felt the drops that had leaked out during their joining, and stroked him slowly, using the pre-cum as a lubricant.

Heero's head was tilted all the way back on Duo's shoulder, and his breathing quickened. He made a slight gurgling sound just before Duo brought him to the brink of orgasm, then he suddenly turned in Duo's embrace and kissed him.

Duo didn't have time to blink. His eyes closed as Heero's tongue forced its way past his lips, and he felt Heero's wet arousal between them, pressing insistently against his belly.

When Duo's arms were once again around Heero, and his hands roaming through his hair and massaging his scalp, Heero allowed Duo to return the kiss, more forcefully. He sucked on Duo's tongue and his own fingers were digging into Duo's shoulder blades.

Heero's body went completely rigid for just a moment, then Duo felt the warm spattering across his belly. He gentled the kiss, letting Heero withdraw when he was ready.

To his surprise, Heero didn't seem ready just yet.

They fell to their sides, kissing and caressing and basking in something akin to post-coital bliss.

"When I'm with you," Heero said, running his fingers through the hair at Duo's temple. "It doesn't matter who I am."

Duo reached out and smoothed the sweat-dampened bangs away from Heero's eyes. The resulting cowlick did nothing to detract from Heero's intense expression. Duo left his fingers there, in Heero's hair, toying with both wet and dry strands, rubbing them together as his knuckles gently grazed Heero's scalp.

"It never mattered to me," he said steadily.

"Maybe I've been looking for answers to the wrong questions," Heero said, his eyes searching.

"Maybe," Duo agreed, his gaze unwavering.

Heero closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then started to roll away. Duo assumed he was going to get something to clean them both up.

He hadn't even gotten to the edge of the bed before he launched himself at Duo, wrapping his arms around him, leaving not an inch of space between them.

Duo returned the embrace and brushed his lips over Heero's eyebrow. So they'd both be sticky and sweaty in the morning. In the great scheme of things, they'd both suffered far worse.

"When you figure out the right questions, Heero," he murmured softly.

"...the answer is yes."

~~~~

My thanks to Porcelain, for feeding me Gackt lyrics until something caught my eye for a title.

The title comes from Uncertain Memories: "...both paradise and the earth's anger vanish. Like a lost child bearing atonements, I don't even know where I'm going..."

Lyrics to The Logical Song:

Lyrics to Uncertain Memories