Life Line
Part 1
by Jade Black
Duo stared out over the concrete mosh pit and beyond it to the merchandise
stands. The Norwich University arena was empty now save for a couple of
techs and the odd student leaving classes late. Soon, though, it would fill
up with screaming, bouncing and drunken fans like it always did. The band,
Life Line, had played venues five times the size of this one- but each gig
came with new nerves. He didn’t know quite how he had got conned into
playing here. It was their England tour- for god’s sake; he had spent the
last month playing places like Redding and Wembley- this was almost
degrading.
Heero didn’t seem to think the same thing. The guitarist had told him
earlier that morning as they were just waking up that it was probably a good
thing that they went back to the roots of playing. A smaller audience would
help them from getting so ‘big-headed’. Duo agreed, but he did enjoy the
larger audiences. And they got paid more too.
Talk of the devil- Heero appeared now. He crept up behind Duo and held him
like he always did- one arm around his waist- the tattooed arm –and one hand
on his shoulder. Duo was used to his lover’s silent entrances, he was quiet
all the time. It seemed like the only time Heero actually let loose was when
he had a guitar in his arms- and then it was magnificent. No one could quite
match up to that. But, maybe Duo was the only one able to appreciate it- the
only one who knew Heero well enough to read him like that.
“How long have we got?” Duo asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Couple of hours,” Heero answered, still looking out. “How are you going to
do your hair?”
Duo smiled. He knew Heero loved his hair. Duo didn’t know why Heero asked
him gig after gig after gig- he always kept it up in a braid when they were
on stage, or anywhere else where the public could see him. It was partially
because it added an air of mystery to his character- with the amount of
female fans out there wishing he would take it down just for them- and it
was partially because the only person other than himself and his mother who
had seen him with it down was Heero… though Heero didn’t know that. Heero
probably had no idea how many people Duo had been with before him. “Like I
always do, Hee-chan!” With that Duo planted a firm kiss on the Asian’s lips-
and bounded off back stage.
Heero stayed where he was. The cold British air was both dull and strangely
refreshing. He didn’t usually worry about gigs- but this one didn’t look
good. He didn’t know what it was… perhaps the feeling of a storm looming
heavily in the air- but it seemed like something more than just rain. He
wondered if it was something to do with his favourite singer- Duo seemed…
distant recently, a lot quieter than usual. However, he had seen his lover
like this before- and it usually resulted in a hit album. Maybe he was just
working up to writing some earth-shatteringly great lyrics. However, he
hadn’t seen Duo actually grab a piece of paper and a pen for quite a while…
like his inspiration flow was down or something. Heero really didn’t know,
though, so he trudged back across the stage where the techs were starting to
set up all their gear to try and find the remainder of Life Line.
---
Trowa and Quatre were sitting on the sofa of the green room making out, a
bottle of Jack Daniels resting awkwardly between them. Duo wasn’t surprised,
that was pretty much all the bass player and the blond manager did before
every concert… come to think of it, they did it after every concert as well.
Wufei sat polishing his drumsticks solemnly, sitting as far away from the
couple as he could. Duo knew he could go for some of that as well, but it
wasn’t like Chang wanted to make it obvious. He was too ‘honourable’ for
that.
Duo opened the fridge/freezer in the corner and pulled out a bottle of
Heineken, twisting off the cap and taking a long swig before sitting down
next to Wufei, not entirely sure of what to do now that he was here. It
didn’t take long for Heero to appear in the doorway after him; and he took a
seat between Duo and the other two, who were too engrossed in each other to
notice.
Wufei threw his drumsticks down and flopped back onto the sofa. “Can’t
those two get a room? It’s bad enough when you lot are doing it!” he
gestured half-heartedly at the singer and guitarist.
“I think it’s cute,” commented Duo, looking at the way Trowa’s hand was
surreptitiously creeping around and up the blonds pink shirt.
“It’s creepy! And disgusting!”
“Hn.” Heero commented simply, placing and arm around Duo and bringing him
in for a sweet kiss. Duo responded happily, but then turned away again as if
nothing had happened- leaving Heero hanging there looking lost.
“Are we working the same set as usual?” Duo asked Wufei in particular.
“Yes.”
“No fancy additions or anything? No tricky solos?”
“Have you got any new songs you want to try out?”
Duo looked down, slightly thoughtfully, “No…”
“Well, then, why would we change anything?”
Heero sat back again, away from Duo- but still with his arm slung
possessively over the braided teenager’s shoulders. He watched as the singer
spoke animatedly to the drummer. It was like he didn’t even exist. Heero
found himself thinking about the angelic vocalist every hour of the day-
even when he was sleeping he dreamed of him –and yet it seemed like to Duo
he was nothing. Although Duo spoke more often than a radio presenter, he had
never really told Heero a thing. He knew everything about Heero- his entire
life story, but Heero knew hardly anything about his past- not that he
wasn’t waiting to listen.
Heero knew that Duo had had a hard childhood. His parents had died before
he really got to know them- and he had grown up partially in a Catholic
orphanage and partially on the streets somewhere. But that was about all he
knew. Duo sung about things in his songs that Heero couldn’t even
comprehend- he had asked Duo once what one of them meant, but Duo had been
reluctant to tell him, and he hadn’t tried since. He didn’t really want to
bring up bad memories. However, Heero was beginning to worry. Duo was
becoming more and more distanced from him, talking less and less; drifting
away almost… perhaps talking it through with someone would have helped him.
But, then, that had to be a voluntary thing.
Heero didn’t have a problem with it. He was happy with Duo however he
wanted to be. The only thing that worried Heero was how long he could hold
on with no validation.
---
When they got onstage the adrenaline rush hit like a wall of fire- just like
it always did. Duo bounded out on stage, grabbing the mike in full swing-
and yelling- “CAN YOU HEAR ME NORWICH?!!”
The cheer that hit back was almost deafening- but Heero was used to the
excited and loud crowds. Sometimes they even drowned out the music. He just
calmly picked up Wing- his guitar, a white Ibanez with silver pickups and a
silver-washed fret board. He’d fantasised about having a guitar like that
and being able to play it for a multi-million crowd since before he started
to learn to play. And standing there, especially when he was only feet away
from the person he considered to be the possible love of his life, was like
an age-old dream come true. Of course, he could only hope that Duo felt the
same way about him… or, at least, that he understood.
Duo was none the better off. He was already in full rhythm- jumping across
the stage like a super-charged kangaroo. And they hadn’t even started to
play yet! He glanced back over his shoulder to check just how ready the band
was. Wufei was almost set up, Trowa was settling the bass over his
shoulders- and Heero was standing looking at him longingly. They’d probably
only need a minute more before they were all set. “WELL THEN, LET ME HEAR
YOU!!!” he bellowed into the microphone. The roar that emanated from the
crowd could have knocked over a circus tent. “I STILL CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!”
Another earth shattering roar… large groups of energized people were so easy
to manipulate. Duo glanced back again- they were all ready, looking at him
intently- waiting for him. He hated that look- the same look they all bore
at this point of a gig. Like they expected him to carry on, to take over, to
lead. They all looked up to him- and every time Duo doubted that he could do
it right. And yet he came through every time.
He nodded to Wufei, who began to count them in on his drumsticks, and then
turned back to the ever-moving sea of people. The usual set… so Heero went
first. Duo waited.
Heero took a deep breath and twiddled the pick between his fingers,
listening for the third beat of Wufei’s drumsticks. He looked at Duo- his
braid swaying as he bounced around- as he found his fingering on the fret
board… Go. Three chords. Pause. Go again…
The sound of Heero’s guitar blasted out of the amps, almost sending the
crowd silent. Duo waited, it was all in the timing. The somewhat twangy
sound floated up and echoed out, leaving quiet. Then he started again- a
slow plucking of the strings, that melded together into a melody and
spiralled upwards and away- and then came plunging back down again with a
harsh strike of plastic on metal. It began to rise again, just as Wufei
melted into the sound with a soft tapping of the drums, getting louder and
louder- then the addition of Trowa’s bass, just a rhythm to mark it all by-
a skeleton on which to hang the skin of a proper song…
Duo chuckled softly into the microphone- a part of the song that always
came easily to him… a pre-cursor. He just let the music float and built and
strengthen like a beautiful force of nature. You didn’t need any words to
complicate it; it was perfect as it was. But, then, it was inevitable… “Much
reason for sorrow…” he whispered into the microphone softly, mirroring the
flow and rise and fluctuations of the guitar.
He glanced at Heero and found cobalt eyes met his. “But maybe tomorrow,” he
broke the deep gaze. He couldn’t bear to look at Heero when he sung… it was
just too much. “She’ll return and see him again.” His voice rose as he
coaxed the microphone like a lover. “He shouted aloud his defiance…” he
looked at the sky, “At life.” His voice rose even higher, as the song still
built, “It seemed to receive those loved and taken…” And the music quit. Duo
closed his eyes. “By knife.”
The sound returned in full force as Heero and all the others let rip once
more. Duo kept his eyes closed, but he knew where everything was by heart.
He had feeling, he didn’t need sight.
Heero was lost already… and he wasn’t going to come back for a long time.
There was only one rush that could surpass this- and that rush was standing
only steps in front of him, just as enveloped in the feeling. Duo. The man…
and the music… they were just so perfect. Heavenly, even; like a drug. And
he didn’t have to say a word or do a thing- he was just there. These were
probably the two best times for Duo as well… knowing how much the braided
boy loved and craved sex, and then seeing the way he acted with their music-
there was a sure similarity. It was like the sound and him were one in the
same… if the band hadn’t found each other and made something out of it, then
he would have made a great professional dancer. He bounced and swayed and
hopped and then flowed in perfect harmony with every element and layer of
the song, and his emotions seemed to reflect what he heard- like he was that
fragile and empathetic. Heero knew he was probably too wrapped up in him to
know without influence… but the singer held the beauty and finesse of a
supernatural deity. It was inhuman to be that good.
‘Defiance Of Life’ was built so that it flowed directly into the next song
with no break. Wufei’s drumming slowed and quickened- morphing into a
different, sharper and more varied beat. Trowa’s bass quickened and
deepened. Heero’s playing still rose above all else and stood out and
imprinted itself upon the listeners’ minds- like a jagged mountain in a land
of rolling hills. The next in the set was completely different in style to
‘Defiance Of Life’, the lyrics more obvious and more sarcastic. More of
Duo’s annoying charm poured into it. It was the first song Duo had come to
Heero with to practise, the first thing he wanted to sing to thousands-
something special to him. Heero knew; but he couldn’t help but asking Duo
about it just once. The song was called ‘No Hero’- and the lyrics so brash
and outstanding that Heero had known something to be wrong… and then when
you combined it with anything else Duo had ever written and sung… and you
came out with a very fucked-up teenager.
The music calmed, and Duo stepped up. Every instrument stayed at a steady
rhythm, and Duo lead them. “Once you said you’d stick to it until the end. I
guess you lied. They call it suicide.” Heero watched Duo’s face. The break
in the lyrics and the pursing of lips- the eyes scrunched tight shut
somewhere between concentration and agony. “Now you’re gone. What was so
wrong that you couldn’t find a way to carry on? Second guess- did I do my
best? There was a friend I had…”
Heero kept his eyes on his lover- but suddenly remembered where he was and
kicked in with the chords- just as the drums rose and the bass fell. Duo
pulled back and took a deep breath- and then burst with fury that he kept
pent up inside especially for the benefit of this song- yelling at the
oblivious crowd. “Johnny was a weirdo, so what did you expect? I ain’t no
fuckin’ hero! I’m just trying to survive myself!!”
The music dropped and Heero was free to gaze at Duo again. He closed his
eyes lightly, and whispered into the microphone- like the quiet before the
storm. “I should have known, you went through it alone. I wonder why. Did
you even try? You could have come to me.” A flicker of indecision crossed
the singers face, as if he was on the verge of long-held tears. “I would
have helped you see. You could have found a way to carry on. Second guess-
did I do my best? There was a friend I had…”
Raw energy unleashed again. “Johnny was a weirdo, so what did you expect? I
ain’t no fuckin’ hero! I’m just trying to survive myself!! ‘Johnny’s strange
behaviour was a tip-off’, they say! But I ain’t no fuckin’ saviour! I’m just
living day by day!!”
Heero’s turn. Kick-ass guitar solo… but somehow you were still left in the
aftermath of Duo’s words; and Heero’s guitar just seemed to pour gasoline on
his wounds. The braided one looked at the floor, hopping about as he waited.
Heero faded out. “Little things, little lives- hanging ‘till the end,” he
whispered. “I SAY IT DON’T REALLY MEAN NOTHING!!” That deadly whisper again,
“Telling truth, telling lies, I used to have a friend. I SAY IT DON’T REALLY
MEAN NOTHING!!” And I can’t let this feeling go…”
“Johnny was a weirdo, so what did you expect? I ain’t no fuckin’ hero! I’m
just trying to survive myself!!! ‘Johnny’s strange behaviour was a tip off’,
they say. But. But I ain’t no fucking saviour! I’m just living day by day.”
---
Somehow, Heero managed to spend the entire duration of the concert staring
at Duo- only taking his eyes off him once or twice to grab a beer off of the
amp next to him. Okay, Heero knew he liked to look at him- who wouldn’t –but
he didn’t know he was obsessed with him.
Finally, it was over, though- and Duo yelled a hurried thank you into the
microphone, after introducing each member of the band individually for a
cheer like he always did- before turning back to his sweaty lover, just
pulling Wing from his shoulders. Duo watched him place the instrument down
with the care of a mother putting her child to bed, wiping the rivulets of
sweat away from his own forehead, and then pounced as soon as his hands were
free. Heero slung an arm around his shoulders, as Duo dragged him backstage.
They found Trowa and Wufei being happily swamped by roadies and fans. That
much attention was something none of them ever got used to. Wufei waved them
over, as they too were found by the crowd of fans who had somehow manage to
blag their way backstage. Heero signed a couple of album covers, Duo signed
a couple of breasts that were heading his way- and then they finally managed
to make their way across the hall to the dressing rooms. Wufei was standing
outside, swigging occasionally at some non-descript lager, watching
helplessly as Trowa was once again dragged by the collar into one of the two
dressing rooms by Quatre, their manager.
“Bet I know what you two are going to do,” Wufei said with a scowl as the
Japanese guitarist walked over, with a braided singer hanging off of his
arm.
Duo grinned and kissed Heero’s neck affectionately. “That doesn’t sound
half bad, does it Heero?”
“No, it doesn’t, Duo.”
“Thanks for the idea, Wu-man.” Duo grabbed the beer from the Chinese boy’s
hand, took a swig and then passed it back. “Same goes for the beer.”
With that, he grabbed Heero’s collar and dragged him into the second
dressing room. Heero smirked at Wufei stupidly, and a death glare to rival
his own was immediately shot back. Of course, Heero thought nothing of it-
in light of the beautiful boy now lying with his legs spread for him on the
bed in front of him.
Heero happily moved forward, an almost predatory glaze over his eyes. Duo
watched intently, his arousal throbbing as Heero pulled his red ‘ZERO’
t-shirt off over his head- his toned muscles rippling with movement. He
reached the foot of the bed, looking down at Duo, who still had his legs
spread wide, though he was fully clothed. He looked like he wanted to jump
the boy and ravage him within a thread of his life- but instead he bent and
undid the buckle of his belt, and the front of his jeans so that he could
peel them off. Sometimes, Duo thought that tightness of Heero’s wonderful
jeans was the only thing that kept him standing throughout their gigs. Heero
stood before him, clad only in a pair of tight black boxer-briefs, his
arousal obvious through them. He placed a knee onto the bed and crawled over
to sit smugly between Duo’s legs, moving the braided boy backwards until he
lay, full out on the bed- one hand either side of his head, and lowered his
mouth to his lips.
Duo smiled into the passionate kiss- arms immediately going around Heero’s
neck, and he felt one warm hand slide down his clothed chest- brushing
half-heartedly over a nipple- to the waistband of his black trousers. Heero
expertly undid the button and the zip, and pulled Duo’s black priest shirt
out, sliding the fabric off over Duo’s head- to leave heated skin against
heated skin. He plundered Duo mouth once more, coaxing a moan from the
beautiful boy as he tweaked on of his nipples, and then moved down once
again to the waistband of his pants.
In one swift movement, Heero tugged away both trousers and underwear-
allowing the boy’s weeping length to spring free- drawing another moan.
Heero pressed up against him again, sending sparks of electricity shooting
through both their bodies. Too highly aroused to make it last much longer,
Heero began to kiss his way down Duo’s collarbone and his stomach, stopping
enticingly over his groin. He glanced up at Duo, lost in what Heero was
doing to him- eyes closed, but in a different manner from when he was
onstage. Heero closed his eyes also, and let his senses guide him as he
lowered his mouth, to brush his tongue roughly along the underside of Duo’s
cock- another anxious moan spilling from his mouth. Heero rose up again, and
plunged down upon Duo’s manhood, sucking and licking- and drawing cry after
cry- Duo never having been quietest in his lovemaking.
Another almost startled moan announced just how close the singer was, and
Heero felt him move away from the bed- and then felt something being passed
into his hand-, which had been clamped onto Duo’s writhing thigh. Heero
glanced up at him, and took the tube of KY that he was being handed- seeing
that Duo’s eyes were still closed. He spread some of the clear gel onto the
fingers of his right hand- vaguely registering that was the hand he used to
pull such great sounds from both Duo and Wing.
Heero continued to suck at Duo’s pulsing member, and trailed his now-lubed
hand up between those long legs, to find the singers hidden entrance. Duo
cried out again, eyes still squeezed tight shut, as two fingers entered him
simultaneously. Heero knew he was being hasty, but he also knew Duo could
take it- and would probably enjoy it even more. After a short while of
pumping his fingers in and out of him, he added another- and probed about in
search of the boy’s prostate. As Duo’s body suddenly arched off of the bed
with a loud cry of his name- he knew he had found it.
Removing his mouth from Duo’s cock and taking some time to breathe
properly, Heero moved his fingers in and out of Duo freely- hitting his
prostate dead-on on every other stroke. After a long moment of watching the
braided boy writhe under his torture- only incomprehensive groans mixed with
the odd curse mixed in allowed to pass his lips. Heero smirked, once he
thought the boy was prepared enough, and withdrew his hand. He quickly
removed his boxers with one hand, and lubed up his own cock- wondering how
he had managed to go this long without any direct contact. He stroked
himself what was probably a couple more times than required, and then forced
straight into Duo without warning- biting his lip as he was enveloped in
that amazing wet heat that constituted Duo.
Duo pretty much leapt the entire way off the bed with that intrusion-
screaming Heero’s name, and then falling backwards again, managing somehow
to moan and pant at the same time. Heero slid up against him, and pulled out
again until only the head of his cock was left inside him- and then forcing
back in again. He lowered his lips back to Duo’s, and Duo tasted himself on
those lips- but pulled back again, for need to breathe. Heero subconsciously
got the hint, and pulled out of him again- concentrating on bringing up a
steady rhythm.
Heero felt like he was inside Duo for hours on end- and all of Duo’s cries
seemed to have melded into one long moan. Heero knew he had to be close, and
Heero was unbelievably near himself. He wrapped one set of slender fingers
around Duo’s cock- and pumped it a few times in sequence with his thrusts.
It wasn’t long before his lover’s release spilled out over their chests and
his hand- his cry like music to Heero’s ears. Duo’s muscles clenched around
Heero’s arousal- and he soon followed the braided boy’s example with a
similar impassioned cry.
He drew slowly out of Duo and fell to the bed next to him. Duo’s eyes
remained closed somehow, and Heero watched his breathing slow as Heero’s did
the same. Duo was so still it was almost as if he was dead. And then he was
all in motion again.
The singer was on his feet and heading for the shower in the back of the
dressing room almost immediately- before Heero was even half over his
orgasm. The guitarist lay on the bed, unable to move, watching his lover as
he removed his hair from its braid and took a brush to it. He turned to
Heero as he dragged the brush through his beautiful chestnut bangs- and
Heero seemed somehow mesmerised. “Thanks, man,” Duo said, turning again and
grabbing the hair band once more- slipping it over his wrist, “I needed
that.”
Heero just looked at him. He placed the brush down and twined his fingers
through his hair- separating it into three different strands. Then he began
the surprisingly quick task of entwining each of the strands into a thicker
bunch. It came together like magic- years of practise showing in the
expertise of the hands. Then he turned again, reaching into the rucksack
that had been slung into the room before the gig- and pulling out a pair of
blue denim cut-offs and a tight black ‘Crime Is And Equal Opportunities
Employer’ t-shirt. Heero just lay there and watched this braided beauty slip
on the clothing- and hardly registered as it walked out of the door- leaving
Heero naked and alone… and somewhat aroused. “I love you, Duo,” he whispered
to the empty room.
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