3-4-2001

Guilt
Sunday (all_in_leather@yahoo.com)

 

“Yo, you feel like crying?” Duo’s voice reverberated off the room’s bare furnishings, echoing off the bland white walls, and nondescript plastic furniture…

…but the typing continues…

“Yah, Yuy, I did just ask about the crying…cause, y’know, after killing X number of people I was wondering if you where guilt ridden.”

A pause, filled only with the regular clatter of fingers on a keyboard.

And the game began anew. Both of them where familiar with its stupidities, with its destructive nature, and they where both far beyond caring. The record was held by Heero, for 15 minutes, but that had taken extra effort. He and Duo got into a fight of wits, and although he would normally have been unable to express himself, that day, he had insulted Duo enough to drive the boy into a fit of rage.

Duo had lost.

The previous record had been 20 minutes, where Duo had talked Heero into a fit, and the other had screamed at him to shut up.

Duo wanted to regain his position…and he had 15 minutes in which to do so.

“Guilt.” Heero sounds skeptical. His words in line with the game, as long as he does nothing rash, nothing irregular, he would win.

“Yah, you know, the feeling of ‘we are of so wrong…those people are gone and not coming back…something is twisted inside me’…guilt.” His voice remains jovial, as if what he is saying describes someone else’s life, someone else’s experiences, not his own.

“Over this mission?” the monotone counters.

“Somewhat…but I mean guilt in general…”

“The missions…” Heero begins as if reciting from a book.

“If you give me the –the mission is towards a greater cause, and it is a means that is necessary, therefore trivialities like guilt hardly matter- speech, I’ll shove your laptop up your ass.”

“Hn.” The typing continues.

“I don’t believe it!” Duo hops onto the bed, grinning like a maniac “Mr. Perfect soldier was going to give me that damned speech. You are as original as Relena…speaking of Relena, do you feel guilty about her? About the perfect little world that we will never live to see? Hmmm…or do you feel guilty, knowing that one day your blood stained body will share her perfectly untainted little bed.

“Now you are delusional.” Counters Heero, calmly typing away.

Duo had yet to invoke a response, and so he was losing. Both of them realized this, so Duo began anew.

“How about a different form of guilt…Do you ever feel guilty about the little things, the erasers you stole from someone else, the pieces of gum that you left under the desk…? Ever feel guilty about those Heero…? those have nothing to do with the mission, now do they? Do you feel guilty about the little things?” Heero spares a glance at the other before continuing to type, the fingers never leaving the keyboard, never pausing in their ceaseless task to create something new, a new plan, a new mission report, more destruction.

More guilt.

Another victory.

Duo smiles, his lips stretching over the small face. His eyes glazed with the look of a beast that had just found its perfect meal, and was not about to cease in its exploitation of it, hungrily drinking its victim’s blood.

“No…?” the whisper dark, low and dangerous. There was something more, Heero had barely began with the game, and Duo was already preparing the conclusion, it made them both nervous. The clinical detachment in the exploitation of a friend was far beyond normal, and whereas the other games had been played hot and angry, this one was cold, as if a layer of ice surrounded everything, pulling at it, until it was ready to snap. Nevertheless, neither was deluded enough to believe that the game would stop. “…how about something else, how about making someone feel like shit, pulling them up only to drop them, making them feel unworthy? Do you feel guilty then? OR is it the checking out the boys in the shower room…knowing that you shouldn’t, but there is some sort of perverted glee in knowing if there is someone bigger, more impressive, seeing if the school wimp is hiding muscle beneath his baggy clothing, whether any of them will notice? Do they notice? Do you feel guilty when they do? Do you feel euphoria when they don’t, and then feel guilt over the sick pleasure? Come on Yuy, there has got to be something. How about the other people, do you ever get so jealous of someone, of their humanity…”

Heero continues his typing, ignoring the words…he is winning, the fifteen-minute mark is approaching, and after it, Duo will give up. It does not matter what Duo decides to extract from him, what actions he decides to unearth and bring into the demented scrutiny that the boy specializes in, it hardly matters at all.

“…Heero…” the voice is throaty, deep, as if sex had permeated its timbre. “…do you ever feel guilty…” a pause, and briefly Heero wonders if the conversation had wound down, if the other was acknowledging defeat, finally acceptant of the fact that he could not win his own game, 8 minutes and counting. Heero looks up, staring at the slightly flushed skin of his roommate, his partner, watching him crawl towards the edge of the bed, towards him…slowly, seductively. A wide grin once more splits those features, as the boy leans closer still to Heero.

“…do you ever feel guilty when you watch your bestfriend, when you play games with him, because you know that one day you will win, and that one day will be the moment that he will have defeat shine in his eyes. Do you feel guilty when you relish that defeat because it is the closest to submission that you will ever experience from him? because that one damned moment is the closest that you will ever get to fucking him? and you know that you want to, because every night you dream of it. Every time he takes a breath, every moment he opens their lips you want to know what those lips would feel like if they where on you, wondering what it would feel like to kiss them, to taste them. Do you feel guilty when you wake up at night knowing that it was all just a dream, that it was not him that you where screwing, licking, and sucking, but it was just a few fucked over neurons happily firing away, not giving a fuck over how you feel on the matter. Or when you jerk off, thinking about him, for half an hour cause they are no longer in the room, and you both curse and bless every deity you can think of, because they, your partner and best friend, aren’t there to catch you… Do you feel guilty then?” His breath comes in soft pants, and his skin is tinted red, almost glowing. The maniac smile continues to dominate his face, but it is far more predatory, and suddenly the room seems too small, and the temperature too high, and there are still three minutes, until Heero can win the game.

“Hn.” But the typing continues.

“Because, I do.”

And the typing stops.