Pair: 1x6x1--err... or maybe it's more 6x1 than 1x6? Does it matter? Zechs and Heero love! *squee*
Warning: m/m pairing (ie: yaoi), adult situations, Heero-is-drunk-ness, sorta-kinda spoilers for the end of the series, lil angst, lil sap, teensy fluff (yes, yes... go on and laugh...), kissie-poos for the kiss-a-holics everywhere. *cough*
Note: Written for durand's request in the fic_on_demand community on livejournal, and also especially for the very much E-V-I-L ederyn who dared me to write this damn thing in the first place. Gah. Dared! Dared!! She is way too obsessed for her own good sometimes, but she's still THE 1x6x1 Queen of the internet, so I should be nice. ~.^; Cozz luvs you very much... even if you're E-V-I-L.
Second note: This was only read-over once (I usually do it about four times), so there might be more errors than usual.
Zechs slid into the small wooden chair and cast a very concerned glance at his partner. The last place he'd ever expected to find Heero Yuy was in the back corner of a bar eating three big macs and drinking God-only-knew-what with his eyes swimming in alcoholic bliss. But then Zechs never fully understood him anyway, and that was probably the problem, here.
Heero looked at him with an accusatory stare for several minutes before swaying slightly, briefly loosing his balance, and grabbed another big mac that he pulled out of a yellow paper McDonalds bag.
Yes. That was definitely the problem...
"...Well if it isn't His Royal Highness..." A long, slow, very un-Heero-like burp. "Honored," he slurred with a shaky nod.
"Heero... what the hell are you doing?"
"Drinking and eating," he said semi-reasonably with a shrug. He put his burger down to take a swig of whatever was in his glass. It smelled strong, but Zechs couldn't decipher it.
The older man narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
Heero only shrugged in response and looked down at the floor, which seemed to have suddenly become his peak of interest. Zechs sighed and walked around the table to bend down in Heero's line of vision. Heero looked passed him, unable to meet his partner's eyes.
"Did I ever apoli--apollah... ap..." He frowned in concentration and spat furiously. "Did I ever say... sorry?"
"For... killing you," Heero said. "Back on Libra. I didn't mean to do it, you know. I really didn't mean--"
"Heero," Zechs whispered hoarsely, eyes burning. "...don't." He stood up again and pulled his chair around to sit by Heero's side. "Don't go there."
"But Zechs, I swear I didn't mean it. I really didn't want you to die, and when you did, I..." Heero gritted his teeth, frowning in concentration. It was then that Zechs considered that maybe Heero got himself drunk not to simply drink, but so the words would come out easier, so that he could tell Zechs the things he'd never been able to admit to anyone... the things that haunted him every night in his sleep, where no other man had ever tread.
Zechs was silent. If Heero wanted him to listen, than bloody hell, he was going to listen. He would never dare deny the love of his life, especially after losing him twice in a row. He knew far too well what that kind of pain felt like.
"When you died I... cried," Heero said somewhat stiffly. He almost looked ashamed--Zechs would swear by it--but he went on in his drunken haze, stone-faced. "Odin always told me that crying was for women and boys who stayed home... crying wasn't for the battlefield, he said. And he meant it. I remember when I was around... six?--or seven, maybe--I cried because I had killed this... boy..."
Zechs couldn't take it anymore. "Heero, enough. I'm not dead, and it's okay..."
Heero shook his head, hearing only what he wanted to hear. "No, it's not okay. J said the same thing Odin did, and hell, he trained me not to cry. And I did cry... I cried to him after that... girl... and the dog... and he..." He whispered something unintelligible that Zechs couldn't catch, and he sighed a nervous, semi-traumatic breath. "He wasn't a bad man, no matter what the others will tell you. He really wasn't, Zechs. He just did what he had to do. And what he did... hurt. And so when I cried when you died, I thought I was... am... broken."
He nodded slowly. "Broken," he said. "Malfunctioning. With errors. Or just... busted, as Duo would say..."
"Heero, what are you trying to tell me?"
Heero frowned at him, confused. He didn't look like he knew, himself.
Zechs felt his shoulders tense in frustration. "You're a human being, and it's okay that you... cried... oh..." Zechs's eyes widened in epiphany as he realized what had happened. "Is this about last night?"
Heero looked away again, staring at the bartender who didn't catch his glance. With a mumble, he said, "You kissed me."
"It's been three years, Heero! It's about time I kissed you!"
"But Zechs, no one's ever kissed me before..."
Zechs wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh so hard and so fast so free that nothing in the world would ever stop him. But he didn't, because he knew that if he did, Heero would misunderstand what that laugh stood for.
He just smiled instead, and closed in on his partner, forcing Heero to look him in the eyes. Heero's gaze was firm but distant, glassed with too much alcohol.
There was a question voiced in the flaming cobalt-blue eyes. The owner of them voiced this question with a name. "...Zechs?"
"Then kiss me, Heero."
The eyes widened in shock, after a brief delay in processing. "W-what? I've never--"
"If you've never kissed anyone and no one's ever kissed you, then take the first chance to see what it feels like. Carpe diem, seize the day, Heero. Make it yours, like you used to do..." Zechs wrapped his fingers around Heero's glass and shoved it away. "No more of this. Just kiss me. Let me kiss you back. I'll show you what it means, and this time you're not running away from me."
"No buts. Just kiss me, you big emotional brilliantly beautiful... deadly idiot."
"I said kiss me."
There was pause as eyes that were struck with denial slowly molded into what had once been called the look of a mission confirmed. An eyebrow raised as Heero leaned closer and breathed, "Is that a challenge, Zechs Marquise?"
"It is indeed, zero-one."
A faint glimmer. "Hn."
Chafed lips came into contact with smooth honey heaven. There was a sound, a whisper, maybe, and then silence.
"You taste like... bourbon, Heero."
"...Is that good?"
Zechs grinned. "Good enough, I suppose."
A stupid, half-drunk smirk. "That's good..."
Heero stood on wobbly legs and balled up his empty McDonald's bag before tossing it into the trash and swaying for the door. Zechs followed him with mother hen intensity, hovering as he kept a wary eye trained incase Heero suddenly decided to trip on air pockets.
When they reached Heero's car (since Zechs had come by taxi), the designated driver shoved Heero into the passenger seat and walked around the car to take the front helm. By the time he turned the ignition, Heero was sound asleep in somewhat peaceful oblivion.
Zechs allowed a small breathless chuckle, as he shook his head in wonder. "You confuse the hell out of me, Yuy."
There was a faint puff of air that sounded almost like a snort. "...Join the party."
And there was silence all the way back home... to their shared apartment and bedroom.