Monsoon Season
by Violaine

Silver beams of light filtered into the room Heero and Duo shared in small planes. One fell flat over the sleeping boy's bare chest, a few across the floor, and a final one illuminating the top of his head. However, much to Wufei's dismay, shadows enveloped Heero's face, distorting all his features, and making the question of whether he was even really asleep or not one to ponder. For endless minutes Wufei studied the boy, eyes flitting over his body, which was only half covered by a thin bed sheet. He prayed for a bolt of lightning to strike, merely so he could see Heero's beautiful sleeping face. The lightning did not come, only the sound of Chang's breath catching in his throat as the sleeping figure moved. In one fluid motion, Heero simply rolled onto his side to face Wufei, from the position he'd been in earlier on his back.... but still asleep.

Wufei couldn't stop the world from spinning at a furious pace. The alcohol, the fear, the arousal.... it was all contributing to the merry-go-round he was currently riding.. Seeing Heero lying in bed more than half naked, even in sleep, was more then enough to bring Wufei to attention. Finally he managed to step completely inside the room and quietly close the door behind him. Well, almost quietly. One small creak sounded just as it clicked shut, and the Chinese boy cringed, holding his breath as he glanced over at the sleeping pilot. Nothing. He exhaled and turned back fully to gaze at the epitome of human perfection in the bed.... if he even were human.

Standing there staring at Heero only started up another landslide of thoughts and images inside Wufei's brain. Pictures of that horrid night in the forest, pictures of what happened afterward with Treize, and after he'd pushed those thoughts out, not so innocent pictures of Heero started to surface. Then came the not so innocent pictures of himself and Heero... and Wufei thought he'd had his plan. He'd just climb into bed with Heero and show him exactly how much he meant to him. In his drunken head, it was the perfect way to make amends.

With newfound resolve, Chang steadied himself by taking a long deep breath and blinking a few times. He didn't want to wake the slumbering beauty until he was ready. His thin fingers grasped the hem of the tank top he was wearing, and managed to pull it over his head successfully in one swift movement. As he tossed the fabric onto the floor, he took a step closer to Heero's bed.

Lightning flashed outside, and pulsated a thousand times over in the mere span of a few seconds. Thunder crashed halfway through the light show, loud and angry. And it was at that exact point that black steely eyes met up with something blue... something cobalt blue. Wufei gasped as he stared down at a fully awake Heero Yuy, and froze.

"Wufei," came the solemn, loaded word from Heero's mouth.

The boy with loose, long black hair remained standing, though it took some effort. He was busted, and ready for the worst, but he couldn't remove his eyes from Heero's. The lump in his throat simply refused to go down, and his ears started to ring as the edges of his vision began to grey. Wufei reached a hand out into the air to grab at a nearby chair, though his aim was off, and the alcohol simply took him over. No longer able to control his limbs, the inebriated Chinese boy leaned forward for a moment, then proceeded to fall, face first toward the floor.

Heero instinctively bolted out of bed at the sight, not even bothering to rid himself of the sheets he'd wound around his legs in the course of the night. Before he could even stand upright, the mess of fabric impeded his effort, sending him to the ground with a loud thud... but just in enough time to break Wufei's fall. The unconscious boy fell almost perfectly into Heero's arms, who had wound up on his side. Through everything Heero had convinced himself, through everything he'd seen, thought, heard and experienced in the past twenty six hours or so, the mere sight of Wufei, and the feeling of him in his arms, was plenty to soften the Perfect Soldier's resolution.

He watched Chang Wufei for probably a bit longer than he should have, pulling him into a semi upright position. Heero sat on the floor with his back against the bed, legs spread out into a 'v'. Wufei was between those legs, naked back to Heero's naked chest, leaning against him. The demons in Heero's head waged an all out war, one that maddened him. He knew he should be angry.... and maybe he was. But this sweet boy, whom he'd watched for so long was there in his arms. Drunk, yes, Passed out, yes. But he was there, in HIS arms, not in Treize's. Yuy's face contorted when he thought of that name. In an instant, visions of Treize on top of Wufei, Wufei between Treize's legs, Treize fucking Wufei.... all that and more rushed through his head, enabling the hate section of his brain to kick in. One rigid index finger poked into Wufei's ribs rather hard.

"Wufei." Heero's voice was harsh, and loud, though not a yell. He did not receive a response. The boy's ragged breaths and the relentless pelt of rain on the roof were the only noises in the room. Heero gritted his teeth, wanting answers. He shifted a bit and turned the boy sideways, bringing a hand up to his face and backhanding the warm soft flesh of Wufei's cheek. That did the trick.

Wufei sputtered and heaved in a great breath, eyes wide with confusion and almost fear. Those wide eyes found Heero's, whose were cold and calm, with a tint of anger. He noted that his jaw was clenched, and then gradually realized that both boys were only half clothed. However, that realization was cut short with another one. Heero's arms were underneath Wufei's shoulders, pulling him off the ground.

"Heero, wha..." asked Wufei, though unable to finish his sentence. Through the drunken stupor he was in, he did manage to discern that Heero was taking him somewhere.

"You're drunk," stated Heero simply. He continued dragging the boy's limp body across the room, and into the bathroom. Coldly and methodically, with no concern as to how gentle he was being, he pulled Wufei down to his knees in front of the toilet as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. All the movement, entirely too fast for Wufei's eyes to keep up with, left him feeling dizzy and sick. A new sweat had broken out on his forehead, and he blinked his eyes a few times to keep the beads of perspiration from clouding his vision. He didn't even notice Heero's hands gathering up the loose black strands of hair from off his neck.

"Heero, I dun feeeel good," slurred Wufei.

With perfect gestures, each quick and curt, Heero lifted both lids of the toilet seat, and using the ponytail in his left hand, shoved Wufei's face forward, closer to the bowl.

"Vomit," he said.

Wufei scrunched up his face, knowing he felt bad, but he wasn't about to become sick in front of someone, especially not the boy he loved. Stubbornly he shook his head and clamped his mouth shut like a child refusing medicine. Heero wasn't about to deal with any sort of resistance. He wanted to talk to Wufei, and he wasn't going to do it while he was drunk. Keeping his left hand on the hair he was holding back from Wufei's face, he moved his right to pinch the boys nose shut. Thankfully, Heero noted, drunks can't hold their breath very long. Within seconds the little Chinese mouth opened to gasp for breath, probably not even realizing why. It was at that moment that Heero stuck two fingers into Wufei's mouth and down the back of his throat. It was all just a mission to Heero; Un-intoxicate the drunkard, eliminate the alcohol from his stomach and let the rest wear off.

When the gag was heard, Heero pushed Wufei closer to the bowl and slid his fingers even further down until surely half that bottle of liquor came up and into the toilet. Wufei wretched violently, and Heero removed his fingers, now concentrating his efforts on keeping the errant strands of hair from falling into his face. Yuy pushed down on the handle and flushed once while the poor sweaty boy continued to throw up. Finally the waves of nausea he felt course through him relented, and Wufei laid his cheek on the side of the cool porcelain rim, eyeing Heero. Utter fatigue and regret pulsed through those black eyes as he watched a stone cold Heero still sitting on the tub. Then he felt his stone cold hands pat his head, but almost lovingly.

"Finished?" Heero asked.

Almost undiscernibly, Wufei nodded, closing his eyes. Heero flushed the toilet again and stood up, making his way across the short distance to the sink behind him. He grabbed a small cup and turned on the faucet, filling it to the brim with water. Again, Wufei felt that hand on him, this time on his bare, sweat covered back.

"Can you stand?" Heero's hand left his skin, and extended it into Wufei's view, as an anchor for him to use in standing. Again Wufei nodded and took the hand graciously, pulling himself to his feet. Silence heavier than lead pierced the air as they stared at each other for a moment before Heero handed him the water.

"Go lie down in my bed. I'll be in shortly," stated Heero, with no emotion showing through his words.

A shaky hand curled around the small cup, and Wufei took a sip, swishing it around in his mouth. He leaned past Heero and spit into the sink, then turned and walked out of the bathroom without a word. Heero watched him leave, with finally an actual feeling showing up in his eyes. It was something of a mix between sadness and longing, the hatred for the moment suppressed. But he still needed answers.


Wufei felt a million times better now. He eagerly slid into Heero's bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep enveloped in his scent. It was all around him, on his pillow, in the sheets, in the very mattress. Like a sleepy cat he rolled onto his side, pulling one of Heero's two pillows out from under his head and bringing it to lie next to him as he wrapped his arms around it. He buried his face in the soft cloth, taking in the smell as if it were pure oxygen and he was in danger of suffocating. Wufei sighed Heero's name almost silently and let his eyes flutter closed, trying to venture into a sweet sleep, filled with images of his love. But Heero had other plans.

"Wake up Chang." The voice pierced through the silent air that was so quickly lulling Wufei to sleep. Startled, the pilot sat up in bed, sheet falling from off his body in a puff of aroma that made him shiver. He squinted at the figure standing in the doorway of the bathroom, even though he knew full well who it was. He simply wanted to get a better look. It dawned on him fully this time that Heero was only wearing boxer shorts, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he pushed it back out. He could see in Heero's eyes that he meant business.

Heero drug the chair out from his desk and pulled it directly in front of the foot of the bed, back of it facing Wufei. In one fluid, muscular move, he slipped one leg over the seat, and took his seat. His legs were spread to accommodate the chair back, and he folded his arms over the top of it, resting his chin there. For a long while he simply stared at the boy, forcing himself to push every emotion out of his head. Finally he spoke.

"Why the drinking?"

Wufei hung his head in shame. He hated alcohol, but at the time, it'd seemed like the perfect thing to take his mind off all the mess he'd made. He sighed and gradually lifted his head to face Heero. He had already shamed himself enough, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to give straight answers from here on out. it had to be resolved.

"I... thought it would help. I wanted to forget. It hurt," came the soft reply.

Heero made a movement that almost resembled nodding, but it was more as if he were taking in the response and trying to understand. Sometimes people baffled him, and this was one of those times. Didn't Wufei realize that all drinking accomplished was making you sick and out of control? He clenched his jaw and flashed a cold stare at the boy in his bed.

"Were you wrong?" he asked, almost maternally.

He nodded and managed a soft "Yes," as he did so. Chang felt as if he were being reprimanded, and in all actuality, he was. Was this Heero's way of showing he cared?

"I should beat you senseless for treating Quatre like you did," said Yuy. This time is was more than obvious from the voice inflection that he was angry. Heero himself felt it building up, and he knew it would take all he had and more not to lash out at Wufei.

The raven haired boy cringed and hung his head again, but only for a moment.

"I know, I know... I was... out of line. There was no excuse for it." He inadvertently hiccuped, and covered his mouth in an apologetic manner. For once, he was glad he'd already been sick. Then he was silent. He knew not what else to say.

"Don't apologize to me, Wufei. Apologize to Quatre. And to Trowa."

Wufei nodded, feeling more and more shame after every word Heero spoke.

With a sharp movement, the Japanese pilot stood up and started pacing the room. The other Asian watched him wide-eyed, never removing his gaze. Finally he stopped and spun around, seething angry, face contorted with rage.

"Did you fucking call that... that bastard lover of yours and tell him you were meeting me?" Heero was yelling this time, unable to contain himself.

"NO!" yelled Wufei back. "No! Never... I... I don't know how he found us. He wouldn't tell me. I'm not a spy, Heero, I'm NOT." The boy in the bed was practically shaking, livid that his comrade would think such a thing. He wanted nothing more than to prove his innocence to him.

"Then why did you fucking leave with him?! WHY, Wufei, tell me why!" Heero spun around again, this time toward the wall, and landed a perfect punch through the plaster. The noise was loud and angry, echoing through the room like a breaking heart. And a breaking heart was exactly what Heero was feeling. He'd never known he'd even HAD a heart until he started letting himself feel things for this boy in his room. And as soon as he'd gotten up the nerve to tell him, his heart was stripped and broken by the recipient of his caring. Heero left his fist in the massive hole in the wall as he leaned his head forward to rest it against the same surface.

In accordance with his first and only instinct, and without thinking about it, sinewy little legs, still covered in his white pants, bounded across the room. Chang tried his best to ignore the little amount of alcohol left in his bloodstream, and for the moment it was working. He stopped abruptly as he reached Heero, not really sure of what to do next. The idea of running to him and taking him into his arms had overwhelmed him just a second ago, but he didn't think he could stand a punch in the gut at the moment. So instead he places one hand on Heero's shoulder, and the other on his wrist, just above the rage-ridden fist lodged in the wall.

"Heero," his voice managed, but little more than a crackle. He swallowed. "Heero.... please listen. Tr.. he's nothing to me. He's just a warm body. Someone that can make me forget."

"Forget about what?" Heero spat.

Wufei swallowed again, voice nearly a whisper. "Forget about you."

Slowly the owner of the short, dark brown head of hair turned his head to the Shenlong pilot. The recipient of that blue gaze thought his eyes looked horribly wet, though he said nothing about it. Carefully the boy pulled on Heero's wrist, trying to coax his fist out of the plaster and dust it was encased in. After a few moments it came free, though it was covered in blood and already bruised. Heero didn't seem to notice.

"What do you mean?" Heero asked.

Lids fell over black eyes and a sigh escaped from pink lips. He bowed his head again, a habit that he seemed to be doing more and more. When he moved it back upward, the ebony underneath the lids were now shown, almond shaped and full of pleading.

"When I met Treize.... you were... I'd already noticed you. I wasn't functioning like I should have in battle, because all I could think of was you. And he... took my mind off things. He told me you'd never love me, and that I was better off with him. But I never stopped thinking about you." Wufei turned away and folded his arms over his chest, as he started to stare at the floor. Heero was just staring at Wufei, mouth agape. Wufei began again. "You'd give me these looks, and I thought maybe you... wanted me too. But I was too full of pride to confront you, and too ashamed because of my relationship with Treize." Wufei turned back around to face the music, adding one last thought as he stared directly into Heero's eyes.

"I don't know why I left with him last night. Maybe I'm a coward." Finally his speech ceased, and again, he hung his head.

It took a minute for everything that had been said to sink into the stubborn brain of the Perfect Soldier. When it finally did, he raised his good hand to Wufei's chin, and tilted his head upward as he fully turned to face the boy, taking a few steps closer. They were mere inches apart, and when Heero spoke, Wufei could feel his warm breath on his face.

"What do you want, Wufei?"

The question Heero never thought he could ask was answered by the response Wufei never thought he could give. He shivered, and his hushed voice fell across the room.

"You, Heero."


The rest of the horribly short night was spend in the comfort of each other's arms, lying in a rumpled bed that now not only smelled of Heero, but Wufei as well. Not even a kiss was exchanged in the short hour Wufei had managed to stay awake, just gazes that spoke more than words ever could. Tears fell for the time they had lost, and hearts beat against each other, warring to break free of their confinement in order to push through the other's body. Little did those persistent organs know, that feat had already been accomplished. The two boys were complete now... well, almost.


Searing pain tore through Chang's head as he awakened to a bright, sunlit room. He squinted in annoyance, and growled as he pushed himself to a semi-upright position in bed. Then he realized he wasn't in his own room. This was Heero's room. An image of him in Heero's bathroom, hunched over the toilet came rushing back to him, and he cringed in shame. Another look notified him he was not only in Heero's room, but in his bed as well. That bit of information brought back the entire night to mind, and in almost astonishment, Wufei blinked, as if trying to wake from a a dream. After a moment of rubbing his head, he affirmed he was indeed awake... but where was Heero?

Stumbling out of bed, and almost tripping in the process, the Chinese boy left the room. In the hallway he peered down the hallway before making his way downstairs.

"Oi, Wu-man! How goes it?" Duo was NOT the person he wanted to see this early in the morning, particularly with the hangover he was harboring. He stood beaming in the kitchen, with a gargantuan plate of french fries, positively drowned in .... mayonnaise? Wufei shuddered at the sight and rubbed his head again.

"What time is it?" he croaked.

Duo grinned from ear to ear and looked at his watch. He loved wreaking havoc on hung over idiots.

"Ah, it's three thirty man!"

Black eyes flew wide open as Wufei groaned. Duo snickered, and shoved a pile of french fry mayo casserole into his garbage disposal of a mouth.

"Where's Heero?" asked Wufei as he made his way past the abomination and on into the kitchen to fix himself some tea.

Through a mouthful of food, Duo spoke. "Oh, he weft dis note fuh yah. Said fuh me tah gibbit to yah." With that Duo pulled out a small sealed envelope from the pocket of his Hawaiian print shorts that until that moment, Wufei hadn't noticed. He groaned again as he did notice, the pattern making his eyes hurt.

He ripped open the letter as Duo watched and continued to pack away the hideous concoction. Slowly his eyes focused on the sloppily scratched out words as he began to read to himself.

10 am

Rest.
Don't leave.
If I'm not back by midnight, I won't be back.
If such is the case, know this:
I love you.

-H


On to part five. Back to part three.