What Would Happen?

Future Fic, after the war. Romance between Relena and Heero, but only for circumstance, as the story revolves around shounen ai. Based on the song by Meredith Brooks.

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“…and I’d just like to thank everyone for raising enough money to not only help the children, those poor children of L2, but for even participating. We will , of course, be continuing the project, extending the project to other colonies, helping people of all ages. I promised, when I became our leader…”

I didn’t actually mean to lose interest in Relena’s speech.  I had heard it several times the night before, rehearsing it even in her sleep. She wouldn’t admit it, never will, but she worries over every speech she makes. It’s something she and I have to agree to disagree on. She feels that appearing in the public eye, speaking to them on a personal level, is an honour. I feel it is nothing more than a controlling device for the public to swallow. I’ve never agreed with her on such a thing. Raising false hope in the eyes of thousands of people? It was as if she was asking for trouble. But I let her pretend she was doing the right thing. She believed it with her entire heart, and I couldn’t give her a reason not to. It would destroy her hopes; which would be ironic, as it’s my job to protect them. For the past 4 years, it’s been my job to protect her hopes. She tells me repeatedly, being in love is not a job. The more she says it, the more I know she is deluding herself into believing I love her. I daren’t tell her I don’t.  I can protect her hopes; keep her life safe. But I can’t break her heart.

Which is why I agreed to her marriage proposal. It wasn’t a case of loving her; but a marriage of convenience. She is a world leader. I, a former Gundam Pilot – Heero Yuy - with skills that exceed any assassin. It was logical – I would be able to be on hand at any time, for her safety precautions.  She let herself believe otherwise, though I think she knew at the time that it wasn’t necessarily a true feeling. When she announced it to the media that we were engaged, they wanted to take photos. She noted, when they came out, that even at the ceremony, my smile was pretty wooden, asked me why I had not smiled properly. I kissed her and told her she had a meeting to attend to. She didn’t ask me again.

“…and therefore, it’s not merely a case of helping the world, but helping every single person in the universe to become more than just the poverty-ridden orphans of society.” Relena finished, interrupting my thoughts with the round of applause that followed.  Her eyes met up with mine, as the music started up – the ball was continuing. I knew she would want to dance, and she knew I would reject her advances. Only once have I danced with her; at the school formal so many years before. She didn’t even realise how important the world around her really was; and I didn’t realise she would be such an important figure to it. I have not danced with her since. She won’t ask me why, and I will not explain to her. The first time, after our wedding, she told me that I was her husband and it was my duty to dance with her. I answered that it was my job to keep an eye on her; the husband issue was only a legal technicality.

I felt her eyes leave mine, and let my own eyes wander over the crowd, ensuring she was in no danger.  I looked back to where she was a few moments before, but she had left, taken by one of the guards to the dance floor.

A pair of eyes catches mine. I remember reading something once about eyes meeting across a crowded ballroom; I think it was a poem. But these eyes were not ones I had not seen before, as in the poem. These eyes, eyes that captured mine easily without a second thought, are violet. Violet eyes that invite me to come closer. Compel me to ask them anything I want; tease me into trying to break the contact they hold. Eyes that once turned on an entire army and sentenced war to death. Eyes I could never forget. They seemed to pull me towards them, and without even realizing it; I was there, in front of them. In front of the face that I could remember so perfectly. Big, round eyes, a small, almost childlike nose; the slightly amused smirk no longer lingered on his lips, but they were still as cheerful as they had always been. They moved, but it was a few seconds before I realised, or could hear the voice that escaped them.

“Long time no see, buddy boy.” The words surrounded me, the music seemed to fade. I saw Relena over his shoulder, head laid against the chest of her guard, eyes on myself. Something in that look told me that she knew; knew before even I did, that I would not dance with anyone but him. She danced past me, almost deliberately, and I turned a little, to catch her as she waltzed past, but somehow she avoided me. He still stood there, talking to me, eyes trying to recapture mine. If he noticed my slight hope of escape, he said nothing.

“Heero?” He waved his hand in front of my face slightly, taking a hold of my arm as if the most casual action in the world. The skin burnt an imprint on mine that will never leave. He didn’t even notice, merely tugged at the sleeve of my black shirt slightly. My eyes wandered over him, taking in the clues of why he was there. There, holding my hand. There, causing my skin to crease and burn under his flesh. There, at a function for people so much less fortunate than myself.  He wore a collar; a collar and a cross. I remembered him saying something about being religious once; and giving it up when god had screwed him over. The uneasy thought that he was there mocking the entire event flashed in my mind, for but a second; I knew he would not. He was a saviour, not a destroyer.  His hands, the hands that were holding mine, had never destroyed life pointlessly. Those hands pulled me towards the dance floor, my ring hot against my skin. As if it knew, as Relena did, what I still did not.  He led me through the dance floor, past the dancing couples, towards the deserted hallway. Silence loomed over my head, though not his.

“Heero?” Once more, my name. His hand reached to touch my cheek, then my forehead, as if worried I were not conscious. I wanted to reach up, touch his hand, hold it to my cheek forever.

“You came tonight?” I replied, though no longer held the same voice I would when nervous. No longer was I strong and in control; I was nothing more than an uncertain human. Shaky, like its owner.

“I was an orphan on L2.”

“Then, you came for the function? For Relena?”

“You know I wouldn’t.” His reply was playful, but truthful. He would not come for Relena. I noted his hand was still on my cheek, glanced at it and took in a deep breath.

“You left?”

“You had things to learn.” He paused, as if trying to explain his response. “Experiences to gain. Friends need to let each other go.” The words were no longer the point of concentration. My eyes strayed to his lips as he spoke; wondered if his lips would feel different to Relena’s. If I kissed him, would he feel the same – would I feel the same unfulfilling sense of loss that I did with her? Would he deepen it? Or would that be too much? He came for orphans. He would not come for me.

“You let me go?” I tried to ask what I knew could not be answered. “Are you coming back?”

“I don’t think the answer I give is what you’re after, Heero.” 4 years, and they had changed so much. He knew, it seemed. Knew what I wanted to find out. His fingers curled around my hair, and waited for what he must’ve known was coming. I leant forwards and brushed my lips to his; a practiced kiss, perfect for Relena.

Not enough for him.

I wanted to give him more the moment he touched against my lips; I felt my body push itself against his, knowing he would not, was not going to, push me away. I pressed my fingers into his hair, pulling it back, releasing it from the hair tie that restrained it. As it fell to the ground, my ring followed; though I did not consciously notice. I did not see it roll along into the grand hall, losing its way between the feet of the beautiful people.

All I saw was Duo, and how much I needed him. How much I needed him again, like I had so many years before; despite what I had felt for anyone else. We were a team again, and as the vows I had said so impassively and the ring I was no longer condemned to were danced upon by high-heeled harlots in cheap cologne, I knew that the years that had gone were nothing in comparison to the years we would be spending together.