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Thirty second Gundam Wing.
I Don't own them and don't make any money off of them. Warning: Male/Male sex, language, sexual descriptions and situations.
Thirty Second Gundam Wing
1x2
Soft
I wanted to scream at him that he was a quack, but I didn't have much choice in doctors at the moment. In the basement of a medical facility, stretched out on a table still stinking of the latest autopsy, I was trying not to do a lot of things. Couldn't have my new best buddy see me cry like a baby, for instance, just because I couldn't take any pain killers. I wasn't about to get fuzzed in a strange place, with Oz on our tails.
The doc finished with a shake of his head and hands raking through what little hair he had. "Best I can do," he said,"They'll notice if I take any more supplies. Keep the ribs wrapped until you can breathe without pain and keep the wounds medicated. If you start seeing blood, out of anywhere, get yourself to another doctor."
I didn't like him. He was scared. My experience told me that scared men were dangerous men. I couldn't see him sacrificing much more for our safety than this furtive medical help. If Oz came knocking, I had a feeling that he would give us up. I wouldn't be staying to recover there.
Heero stood off to one side, looking dark and sullen, arms crossed over his chest. How freakin' embarrassing. The doctor had helped me on with a medical gown, so that I was basically in an open backed dress. Heero had stood there while the doctor had worked over me, even when the man had asked me about rape, and I had snarled at him, 'No! so get your stinking hands away from where the sun don't shine!'
The doctor was eager to leave afterward, cleaning everything up, so that it looked as if no one had ever been there. He left me struggling to sit up on my table, surrounded by corpses in freezers, and only too glad that I wasn't joining them. Yeah, I'd had my doubts. Pain that bad can make you think that you don't have much time left to you.
I'd saved Heero's ass. Now he'd saved mine, and I had to wonder why. When he had pointed his gun at me, his eyes had been dead, a killer's... but then... something in them had softened. I had closed my eyes tight, ready to feel the bit of a bullet, but then, when nothing had happened, I'd opened them again and seen that look. It had been warm, deep, and I remember thinking.... that's what this guy's really like, and then it had been gone and we'd been running for our lives.
Heero just looked deep in thought, now, not really closed off, just... thinking something through. He was so damned dangerous. He oozed it. Lean and lanky, rough cut hair, hot blue eyes, he was so intense it was like... I dunno, something about him made me want to be his freakin best friend in a way I'd never felt before,with anyone. It was damned powerful and... weird. Here I was, in pain like you wouldn't believe, and I was wondering what those hands would feel like.It made me blush, made me damned uncomfortable, and made me so not ready when he told me that I was good for nothing right now and to hide out until I was healed.
I had my macho pride. I tried to say, 'I'm okay, you-' but it would have sounded stupid since I was hunched over and hugging my broken ribs in pain. Moving wasn't a good idea, not at all.
There he was, in front of me, frowning in... yeah, it was concern. He was worried about me. Dr. G would have told me, 'Don't be ridiculous, get back in your Gundam.' The Sweepers would have laughed about, 'Scratches and babies.' This guy... he wanted me safe. He wanted me to heal. He wanted me to stick around, because you don't ask a guy to stop fighting and heal unless you want to see them again, unless you really care whether they live or die outside of 'the cause'.
"Thanks, Heero," I found myself saying and feeling lame about it. I wanted to say so much more. He smiled though, a little one, and his eyes betrayed a half second of that softness again. Yeah, I'd get better, and maybe, if we managed to live long enough, I'd see him and that look again, when I could do something about it.
END
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