Title: Intentionally untitled (repost prt1, post of prt2)
Pairings: 1x2, 2+1. 2-1, 2+1
Warnings: angst, ange, one boy leaves the other, falling out of love…yadda yadda, violence,
Notes: this fic started with a paragraph, it is not much more now, but hey, what can one do? I guess that I got sick of ‘Heero leaves Duo, Duo cries, Heero comes back and is forgiven. Nuh uh…I prefer the “take a long walk off a short pier” scenario…ohh pain…PAIN! Bwahahahahhahahahaha.
Duo: sadist.
Sun: Oh shut up, you come out on top.
Duo: Riiiiiight,
No, but seriously, the pained Duo was getting a bit tiring, I mean, I love it sometimes, but after a while it’s the same old, same old. I like Duo feisty, and kicking. He is a pilot, he takes pain, and grins in face of it. He is fundamentally evil…okay, so he isn’t really…but a girl can pretend.
More notes: The title is a paradox…kinda. I mean ‘intentionally untitled’ suggests that the fic is untitled…but it is titled…because its name is ‘intentionally untitled…bla bla…I don’t know how to think.

Flames can be sent to: all_in_leather@yahoo.com

Intentionally untitled


I smiled coolly, watching his expression turn from anger to wariness…to horror.

“What’z wrong Yuy? Stick shoved up yer ass?” I smirk “enjoying it?” I push past him and saunter out of the room, enjoying the feel of his eyes on my back. Grinning the whole way. I love this, I think, almost as much as I deluded myself into believing that I loved him.

Everything I love dies.

I loved loving you, and so this relationship had to die.

I can hear him running up behind me.

“Duo…” his hand on my arm. I step onto the street…listening to the cars screeching to a stop.

They have breaks, they’ll stop.

“For god’s sake, Maxwell! What the hell has gotten into you?”

I turn to look at min…watching him pant, adrenaline from our little stroll past the street still raging in his system.

I smile.

“reality…just reality, thank you for waking me.” With that I push him into the oncoming traffic, turning, and walking away, reveling in the sounds of cars screeching to a stop, the sound of metal on metal…and maybe that of flesh on emotionless steel.

* * *

Of course Quatre would insist on me being here…sitting…waiting for him to recover. Ah, naiveté…where were you when I needed you most?

* * *

He smirked.

The bastard SMIRKED! Withdrew, and started pulling on a pair of jeans. The fucking asshole had not even finished with sex, and I was currently EXTREMELY agitated. Of course he was not the only one with the raging self-control…so while most others might still have been out of it, and wondering where the hell the euphoria had gone…I knew. But seeing that I can be a bitch to myself…sometimes…usually…

“I love you.” …I tried again. Damn, I am an idiot. He just looked up and gave me that cold passive look of his, you know, the one he uses as he looks at cheese.

“I don’t love you.” Came the flat response. Simple, a few words arranged in a way that was currently earth shattering. I wish I could say that my heart broke then. It did not…my mask on the other hand…that shattered into a million pieces. The smile disappeared and I pursed my lips…threatening to pout. Shaking my head I groped thorough my dresser drawers for the cigarettes he had made me stop smoking. Not that it matters, anymore. I light one, and blow some smoke in his general direction, beside the only table in the room…packing the infernal laptop of his.

“Aah, now I see…so I was a good screw, ne?” H e looks up at me…

My hair is down, and I happen to know that it makes me look good…not that I am conceited or anything, rather…I had been told so innumerable times. The night-lights of downtown Tokyo shine through the apartment’s half closed windows, past the immaculate floor, to the white bed sheets, and me…wrapped in them.

He stares at me in shock as I look straight into his eyes. I am not ashamed.

“…no problem, Yuy.” I take another drag of the cigarette, enjoying the feeling of my heart slowing for just a second before resuming its beat, just a little quicker then before. I exhale blowing smoke rings… hmmm….they turned out too….G would be impressed. He was the one that taught me. I never would have thought him to be an interesting human being…he is. When the training became what lies behind my mask, he built me a new one…he introduced me to that trickery.

I love trickery. Kind of like I love the fact that in a second I could hurt you like you hurt me…no…not LIKE you hurt me. You used me, I don’t as much mind that, as the fact that I believed it to be so much more. Maybe I could hurt you more…gradually.

“…although you should have told me what this was about…after all, that way, I would have known what to charge you.” You look startled, and your index finger, the one on your right hand, flexes. It is as if you were pilling the trigger of a gun…you always do that when you feel threatened.

“Duo…I was…”

“Treating me like a whore?” I offer. “It is ok, these things happen, especially to me…quite often in fact.” I inhale the choking taste of the cigarette once more, enjoying the cool breeze from the window upon my bare upper body. I can see myself in the mirror behind you.

I wonder if you realize that I have stopped looking at you, concentrating on my reflection instead. My gold cross catches the light, shinning on its chain…around my neck. I tear my eyes away from the little piece of metal that I have day in and day out disobeyed…especially on the day out.

I look at your face, having little else to look, you look scandalized.

“What you thought I was a virgin?” You say nothing, but your expression, your minutely defensive stance, say so very much more.

“precious…absolutely precious.” You turn back to packing and I am treated to your profile. You are angry, stuffing your clothing from dresser to bag…you always refold it…and you never use too much force…so unlike what you are doing right now.

“I love you.” You pause, only for a second, before resuming.

“Stop saying that.” Your voice is cool, but I can hear the underlying strain. “This is war, and those emotions are a weakness.” You stop packing all together. “…and anyway…” that same sadistic gleam shines in your eyes, the same one as when I first told you…just minutes before. You slowly walk towards me. “…I don’t love you….I don’t even care for you…you are a hoe, easily taken by your emotions…easily taken, period…” I can feel your breath on my face. “…you are a weak, stupid, slut…that jeopardizes all of my missions…” you are angry. Throughout all of what you said you punctuate the periods…you never do that. Of course the fact that the words are said in anger make them no less painful. Cobalt eyes regard me, as the door is opened.

“Your services were useful.” I wince slightly, before grinning.

“Good to be good at something Mr. Yuy.” You slam the door shut. I lean back into the covers, watching the man I actually learned to love walk out of the room. I inhale the cigarette smoke deeply, allowing it to fill me.

I don’t cry.

Quite possibly because I have forgotten how.

Two weeks later the war ended.

Two weeks and a day later, I pushed him into oncoming traffic.

It has not yet been figured out as to HOW Heero had fallen in. Not that I feel like confessing…the grin grows…actually I very much WANT to tell Quatre. That might dispel his little daydream of what the two of us are like…together…or rather NOT together. But I have my mask to blame for this all.

After he left…after that jerk left me in the room, I had to salvage those pieces. I failed. God, I cared about him…I really did…so I did the only thing that made any sense…I called up G. I had more missions to take care of, and if they required social contact…I required my mask. I like my happy little joker, come to think of it, so does every one else. So in the end, I paid Mushroom head a visit, and he put me in a room with one of my ‘trainers’.

Training, if you really felt like calling it that, included me being beaten by a big Slavic guy (they can get huge, and this one was a mammoth). It is actually really neat, I need to keep smiling, keep joking about which part of the world he comes from…and he keeps on beating me. And if I stop smiling? Oh, THEN I feel pain, real bad pain too…not that he lets up on me when I am smiling, after all, the point of a mask is to hide the pain inside.

“Duo…I’m really sorry about what happened to Heero…” Quatre interrupts my rather somber reflections, and I smile up at him. Quatre, with his cure little face, and wide innocent eyes.

“oh?” He looks at me reassuringly, placing his hand on my shoulder. “I know how you two are close…but…” obviously he misplaced why I was somber. Or maybe he didn’t, after all, this new flawed mask is Mr. Yuy’s fault…and that DEFINITELY has something to do with ‘how we were’. “…but there was nothing you could have done.”

I grin up at his naiveté. I love that boy, really I do. “Of course there was Quatre…I could have …NOT… pushed him.” He looks up at this, hie eyes still as wide, and caring as they where before, he nods in understanding…before punching me in the gut. I smile at him and wink, before surrendering to unconsciousness….God that boy can punch.

He had gotten out of the hospital, away from Relena…to come talk to me…two weeks ago…and a half a day.

* * *

“Duo about what happened.” I look away from the blue sky I had been staring at.

I nod lightly. “So.”

“I want to apologize…I had no right to say that…” he is looking at me while he says this…but his eyes are distant, glazed over…he is not looking ..at.. me.

“What do you want Yuy?” He looks up at me, startled.

“I-I want to have what we had before…”

I nod lightly, still able to feel his body against mine, the warmth of his skin, the coolness of his lips…I can remember all of it. The frightening thing is that I still desire him…I don’t think that I can love him anymore. I dunno, my sessions with the Mammoth, must have cleared a couple of things out of m head. I take another drag of the cigarette, regarding him critically.


He looks so unsure of himself, as if worried that he had said something wrong. I could laugh at that…all these emotions that I have been able to identify, just from being around him for so long…the sign language that I used to think was one of love. I really was deluded, or is it delusional?


I nod thoughtfully. “Alright then.”

He looks up surprised, and I can feel the triumph rising within his body…the corners of his mouth twitch.

“But this time I charge you.”

* * *

I open my eyes warily…staring up at Quatre’s face. He has that ‘I’m going to kill you in many an elaborate ways’ face on again. I grin.

“Well Quatre…this is rather sad, ne? how is he?”

Quatre turns pale. “DUO! How could you…you just lay there while he might be dying…and and…”

“and I don’t think that I could care less.”

“Duo…what you did was illegal…it is attempted man slaughter it is…”

“Self defense.” Quatre shuts up for a moment. Thank God. He was beginning to get to me, he is worse then Heero…

God, I’m an idiot, when I fucked him, did I expect the guy to sprout me sonnets? did I expect love, or whatever the twisted piece of shit of an emotion that I had for him, to be sweet? Yah, I really was that much of an idiot.

Of course love is sweet, just like war is glorious, and after it we all come out looking like Greek gods, all bronzed and muscled…that is what he seemed like in bed, you know. All sleek muscle and soft skin…even his calluses seemed so gentle then. Soft, he seemed so soft.

I snort in disgust, startling Quatre.

I wonder when, in this damned war, all the synapses in my brain had stopped functioning properly, and why they had not been kind enough to have dropped the rest of me a line.

‘Out for lunch. Will be back once your bubble bursts.’

Right, because when I finally opened my eyes, there was no soft flawless skin, all there was, was a patchwork of scars that marred the pale gold. The golden hue of the tissue having a base of gray, where the skin had been exposed to too many chemicals, and had bled just ten thousand times too many. There where scars where he tried to kill himself, where others had tried, where I had tried. HA, I had not been deluded then, or maybe I had, not to shoot for his forehead. Then beneath that skin, there was no softness, there was only hard muscle, and hard calluses. There where no Greek gods, and there sure as hell was no glorious war.

Really Maxwell.

What did you expect?

To come out a better person after killing hundreds of thousands? Hell if that was true then all of us would be fucking saints, and people would pray to us instead of to God. People would pray for Shinigami. He is a nice guy, eh? Took it all way from you.

Can’t take anything from you if you are him.

Not that it matters anymore.

Now I take all of the things that he once did.

Now I am like you, Heero, a God of my own. We are both Great Gods, destroying everything.

Hurrah for us, we both get to burn in hell. I always liked that kind of ending in a romance.

* * *

“c-charge?” his eyes grow wide, and he stares at me, not comprehending that which I had just laid out before him.

“Yup.” I say the word while inhaling, making it breathy, totally uncaring. “I don’t care Yuy. I want to fuck you real bad, but I don’t want anything to do with you. Makes perfect sense to me.” He frowns at that. Turning away from me he finds his eyes upon the sky. We watch the sunset together. Isn’t it romantic? I grin coldly, watching him, watching the way that the light made his sharp cheek bones soften, and his eyes glow with a light that was only an illusion. Everything is an illusion.

Yay. I was beginning to worry that all this pain was reality.

Not that I can feel the pain anymore.

This is all getting a bit too sappy for me.

“I could return to Relena.” He says it in a matter of fact voice. Oooooh, the trick-card up his sleeve. I laugh at him, laugh and laugh, it is absolutely funfuckingtabulously hilarious.

“What the fuck is stopping you, then? God, Yuy, you want me to come back to you?” I pout, looking up at him with large glossy eyes, hard feat when you’re both on the same level. I continue in a mock pained voice. “did you think that I would grovel, restate my undying love for you. Man, you are a total nitwit, y’know. Love ain’t undying, and the ‘I love you…ai shiteru, zutto…’ and all the rest of that crap is o-ver. Dead. Shot in the head. There is nothing here but a pretty body Yuy. So take it or leave it, cause there are a lot of richer fucks, then you, out there, and I plan to make a life with one of the more talented ones.” I grin at his shocked expression.

OooOOoh, poor baby, thought that we had something eternal, go screw yourself with a Gundam, Yuy.

“Duo, what the hell is wrong with you?!’ He grabs my arm. Okaaay, no more of this shit. I look at him coldly. “Nothing, are you too blind to see it? I have been like this all along.”

I smiled coolly, watching his expression turn from anger to wariness…to horror, as he realizes the validity of my words.

“What’z wrong Yuy? Stick shoved up yer ass?” I smirk

“enjoying it?”

* * *

“Self defense…duo?” Quatre asks hesitantly, his eyes darting quickly to the door of Heero’s room.

I grin “sure…he was following me, so I didn’t know what he would do. He was pissed off, and I was not in the mood to be beaten, so I threw him away. Not my fault he was standing in the street.” I smile winningly, watching as Quatre gazes at me suspiciously.

“It would not be the first time that he had beaten me, y’know…he did punch me during the war…a hellova lot too.” Slowly Quatre’s eyes fill with tears, and he clutches my hand, as he buys the story. He mutters his apologies, and quickly offs to get a towel for my nose.

Ah, mortals, their gullibility stuns me.

Not that I can point fingers. I am both. Gullible, and mortal.


* * *
flames can be sent to : all_in_leather@yahoo.com
comments are nice too.