gw500 ficlet - Yellow
Title: Yellow
Author: Elsie
Pairing: past 1+2, throwaway 2xOC
Rating: PG
Warning: angst
Word count: 1,035
Challenge: expectations
Sequel to To Cut Off One's Nose - written with some hesitation
It hit him, at unexpected times, the loneliness.
Man was a social creature by nature, and Duo had spent many years surrounded by people. He'd worked with them, played with them, talked with them.
Slept with them.
After Heero had left, Duo had felt insignificant, tiny, even, in the small apartment. It wasn't as if Heero had taken much with him, because he'd had little of his own when he'd moved in with Duo.
Duo had gone to the closet and spread his clothes out. Now they wouldn't get wrinkled from being shoved to one side to make room for Heero's wardrobe.
It was the little things that got to him.
The first thing that struck him was the fact that nothing was in pairs in the bathroom anymore. There was only one toothbrush, one razor. Getting out of the shower and hanging his towel on the rod, he noticed there wasn't one already there. He didn't need to slide it over to make room for his.
Meals were quiet affairs. Duo found himself turning on the radio in the kitchen and the television in the living room, but still he felt the silence. It seeped into his skin and echoed in his brain.
He refused to let it get to him. He ate proper meals - more so now than he ever had when Heero had been there to provide silent censure regarding his idea of proper nutrition.
When he couldn't sleep at night, he cleaned. He would not allow the apartment to become a shrine to self-indulgent escapism.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks gave way to months.
It had been three months since Heero had left when Duo tired of sleeping alone, and invited a girl he'd met at the gym to his apartment.
He'd let her initiate sex. She'd dropped enough hints, and little time was spent with social niceties before his hands were under her shirt and his thigh pressed between her legs, rubbing her crotch suggestively as her painted lips left tiny bronze prints from his jaw to his neck.
She'd ridden him hard and fast, and rolled off him, her hair sticking every which way, her lipstick smudged, and her breasts heaving. She spooned her body next to his, her hand splayed on his chest. Her fingers played with his chest hair as she murmured how good it had been.
Duo took his cue and put an arm around her, drawing her close and making a noncommittal sound.
She spent the entire night in his bed, her body draped over his.
Duo did not sleep with her.
In the morning, he was glad to see her backside as she turned and walked out the door. He collapsed on the couch, face first, his arm dangling off the side. He stared at the television, but had no desire to reach for the remote control.
Several hours later, his eyes fluttered open, and he pushed himself off the sofa, wiping drool off his cheek and heading to the bathroom to shower.
He took his key and checked his mail, noting a copy of a new lease agreement had been included. He quickly scanned it, noting the slight increase in rent, and flipped the page.
Nothing was new, but his hand hesitated slightly as he poised the pen next to the first X at the end of the agreement.
There would be no second signature.
Technically Heero had never been a tenant. Duo hadn't bothered to inform the rental property that he'd taken on a roommate, as the lease had specified, but it had never been a problem.
Duo scrawled his signature hastily and folded it back up. It would later go into an envelope with his rent check, requiring extra postage, most likely.
He opened the drawer in the kitchen where the stamps were kept and realized there weren't any. That was odd. Heero usually-
Duo slammed the drawer shut, and scribbled "stamps" on the magnetic pad that was on the refrigerator. It was big and yellow and shaped like a banana, with SHOPPING LIST in big block letters across the top.
No one would have expected that item to have made an appearance in the kitchen thanks to Heero Yuy, who shrugged off Duo's questioning look with a simple, "it was on sale."
Duo pulled the pad of paper off the refrigerator door and dumped it into the garbage. Later, when he added broken eggshells and the used coffee filter to the mix, it was mere coincidence that the bright yellow pad was no longer visible whenever the lid was raised.
*
He ran into Heero a few weeks later. At the supermarket, of all places.
A glance at Heero's cart showed remarkably similar items. Duo's eyes flicked back into his own. When had he started eating dark green leaf lettuce? He'd always preferred iceberg.
Heero looked well. An errant child, no older than three or four, ran by him and collided with one of the produce shelves. Heero reached out a hand to steady the urchin, whose mother apologized profusely. Heero shook his head and gestured as if to indicate no harm was done.
He smiled at her.
Duo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Heero smile.
What had Duo expected? To find Heero with dark circles under his eyes, rumpled and unkempt?
It would have hurt less if Heero hadn't been there alone. It would have hurt less to know that Heero had found someone else who had been responsible for his good humor and easy smile.
It would have been a lot easier if Heero hadn't wished him well and meant it.
Duo watched Heero push his cart down the aisle containing salad dressing and mayonnaise. He reached into his cart and removed the leafy green lettuce, carefully set it back where he'd gotten it from, and started to leave the produce section.
As he passed the last display, he slowed his pace, picked up the bunch of fruit closest to him, and deposited it in his cart before moving on.
If he noticed, when he got home, that the bright yellow fruit brightened the kitchen just a bit, he wasn't about to admit it.
Part 3: Belgian Waffles
Author: Elsie
Pairing: past 1+2, throwaway 2xOC
Rating: PG
Warning: angst
Word count: 1,035
Challenge: expectations
Sequel to To Cut Off One's Nose - written with some hesitation
It hit him, at unexpected times, the loneliness.
Man was a social creature by nature, and Duo had spent many years surrounded by people. He'd worked with them, played with them, talked with them.
Slept with them.
After Heero had left, Duo had felt insignificant, tiny, even, in the small apartment. It wasn't as if Heero had taken much with him, because he'd had little of his own when he'd moved in with Duo.
Duo had gone to the closet and spread his clothes out. Now they wouldn't get wrinkled from being shoved to one side to make room for Heero's wardrobe.
It was the little things that got to him.
The first thing that struck him was the fact that nothing was in pairs in the bathroom anymore. There was only one toothbrush, one razor. Getting out of the shower and hanging his towel on the rod, he noticed there wasn't one already there. He didn't need to slide it over to make room for his.
Meals were quiet affairs. Duo found himself turning on the radio in the kitchen and the television in the living room, but still he felt the silence. It seeped into his skin and echoed in his brain.
He refused to let it get to him. He ate proper meals - more so now than he ever had when Heero had been there to provide silent censure regarding his idea of proper nutrition.
When he couldn't sleep at night, he cleaned. He would not allow the apartment to become a shrine to self-indulgent escapism.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks gave way to months.
It had been three months since Heero had left when Duo tired of sleeping alone, and invited a girl he'd met at the gym to his apartment.
He'd let her initiate sex. She'd dropped enough hints, and little time was spent with social niceties before his hands were under her shirt and his thigh pressed between her legs, rubbing her crotch suggestively as her painted lips left tiny bronze prints from his jaw to his neck.
She'd ridden him hard and fast, and rolled off him, her hair sticking every which way, her lipstick smudged, and her breasts heaving. She spooned her body next to his, her hand splayed on his chest. Her fingers played with his chest hair as she murmured how good it had been.
Duo took his cue and put an arm around her, drawing her close and making a noncommittal sound.
She spent the entire night in his bed, her body draped over his.
Duo did not sleep with her.
In the morning, he was glad to see her backside as she turned and walked out the door. He collapsed on the couch, face first, his arm dangling off the side. He stared at the television, but had no desire to reach for the remote control.
Several hours later, his eyes fluttered open, and he pushed himself off the sofa, wiping drool off his cheek and heading to the bathroom to shower.
He took his key and checked his mail, noting a copy of a new lease agreement had been included. He quickly scanned it, noting the slight increase in rent, and flipped the page.
Nothing was new, but his hand hesitated slightly as he poised the pen next to the first X at the end of the agreement.
There would be no second signature.
Technically Heero had never been a tenant. Duo hadn't bothered to inform the rental property that he'd taken on a roommate, as the lease had specified, but it had never been a problem.
Duo scrawled his signature hastily and folded it back up. It would later go into an envelope with his rent check, requiring extra postage, most likely.
He opened the drawer in the kitchen where the stamps were kept and realized there weren't any. That was odd. Heero usually-
Duo slammed the drawer shut, and scribbled "stamps" on the magnetic pad that was on the refrigerator. It was big and yellow and shaped like a banana, with SHOPPING LIST in big block letters across the top.
No one would have expected that item to have made an appearance in the kitchen thanks to Heero Yuy, who shrugged off Duo's questioning look with a simple, "it was on sale."
Duo pulled the pad of paper off the refrigerator door and dumped it into the garbage. Later, when he added broken eggshells and the used coffee filter to the mix, it was mere coincidence that the bright yellow pad was no longer visible whenever the lid was raised.
*
He ran into Heero a few weeks later. At the supermarket, of all places.
A glance at Heero's cart showed remarkably similar items. Duo's eyes flicked back into his own. When had he started eating dark green leaf lettuce? He'd always preferred iceberg.
Heero looked well. An errant child, no older than three or four, ran by him and collided with one of the produce shelves. Heero reached out a hand to steady the urchin, whose mother apologized profusely. Heero shook his head and gestured as if to indicate no harm was done.
He smiled at her.
Duo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Heero smile.
What had Duo expected? To find Heero with dark circles under his eyes, rumpled and unkempt?
It would have hurt less if Heero hadn't been there alone. It would have hurt less to know that Heero had found someone else who had been responsible for his good humor and easy smile.
It would have been a lot easier if Heero hadn't wished him well and meant it.
Duo watched Heero push his cart down the aisle containing salad dressing and mayonnaise. He reached into his cart and removed the leafy green lettuce, carefully set it back where he'd gotten it from, and started to leave the produce section.
As he passed the last display, he slowed his pace, picked up the bunch of fruit closest to him, and deposited it in his cart before moving on.
If he noticed, when he got home, that the bright yellow fruit brightened the kitchen just a bit, he wasn't about to admit it.
Part 3: Belgian Waffles