Rattlesnakes (Gundam Wing ; Slash ; Ang)

Rattlesnakes (Gundam Wing ; Slash ; Ang)


Couple / fiction centrée sur : Trowa Barton / Duo Maxwell (Heero Yuy / Duo Maxwell)

Rattlesnakes

Auteur : Trixie
Genre(s) : post-EW, angst, syndrome de stress post-traumatique, mention de tentative de suicide, « cutting », abus d’alcool, mention d’abus de drogues dures, etc. (une fic bien joyeuse, quoi), « bastardisation » de certains personnages (sans « bashing »)
Rating : MA
État : complet : 14 (longs) chapitres + épilogue
Connaissance du fandom : Utile à Indispensable
Spoliers : post-EW

Résumé : Duo and Trowa are forced to try group therapy

Avis : Une fois n’est pas coutume, je recommande une fic en cours de lecture, après avoir lu trois chapitres seulement (mais vu leur longueur, ils comptent pour au moins le double) parce que quoiqu’il puisse arriver par la suite, ces trois chapitres à eux seuls valent pleinement cette recommandation.

Cette fic est sombre et oppressante avec une atmosphère assez fascinante comme un accident au bord de la route. Duo et Trowa sont, chacun à leur manière, complètement bousillés par la vie et l’auteur le traite avec force et subtilité : elle ne se contente pas uniquement de le dire mais nous le montre également par une multitude de petits détails, répétitions et obsessions. Et si Duo et Trowa représentent pour l’autre une potentielle chance de rédemption, une hypothétique planche de salut, on est loin, très loin de ces fics où l’amour est la réponse à tous les maux. Au stade de ma lecture, d’ailleurs, on est encore très loin de pouvoir parler d’amour ! Mais on ressent dès leurs « retrouvailles » une connexion très forte entre les deux personnages, comme un fil qui les relie et s’épaissit lentement, et on se retrouve à dévorer les pages avec la sensation que le pire pourrait arriver tout en espérant le meilleur.

Extrait n°1 :

Trowa watched Duo carefully, measuring each word as he processed it all. « So how did you and Heero start fucking then? »

Duo blinked. « Well, that’s a complicated question. »

There was a moment of total silence, and then the timer dinged quietly.

Duo got up and pulled out the lasagna, putting it on the table between their plates, sliding off one of his oven mitts to use as a trivet. Trowa recognized it as one of those kits to make a meal that came complete with everything, including the pan. It wasn’t big, and there was only half of it left, so Duo cut the remains in half and lifted a half to each of them. He didn’t bother to set aside or throw away the now empty pan in the middle of the table, just sat down and took a long gulp of wine.

« Dig in. »

They each made motions to cut up their lasagna and shovel it in their throats. It could probably stood to have been heated for longer, but it was at least lukewarm throughout, and anyway, neither was eating that much, though Duo did take a gulp of wine for each bite, no matter how half-hearted.

Trowa watched Duo eat and drink, watched the way Duo’s mouth moved, opening for food, and the way his lips touched the glass to drink. He watched the way Duo’s little upturned nose stayed above everything, and the way Duo’s cheeks would puff out momentarily when they were full. He watched the way Duo kept his eyes on his plate, so they appeared half closed, and his short lashes seemed to curtain his eyes. He watched Duo push his bangs out of his face thoughtlessly twice.

« I never liked you during the war. » It sounded completely clinical, as if Trowa were discussing the weather, and he was a little disappointed to see that the cold front wasn’t going to be lifting any time soon.

Duo met Trowa’s eyes, the right corner of his mouth curling up just enough. « I know. I always liked you okay though. »

Trowa blinked, and watched as Duo pushed some lasagna around his plate.

« Damn, do you ever feel like eating is just a chore? You have to make each meal, and shovel it in, and chew, and swallow, and clean up… and then do it all over again a few hours later. It’s like some torturously evil way to mark off time in life. » Duo regarded his forkful of noodles and sauce and cheese and meat with utter repulsion.

Trowa looked down at his plate of demolished but barely touched lasagna. « I preferred military rations. »

Extrait n°2 :

Over the weekend, Trowa cleaned his apartment. This mostly consisted of him spending fifteen minutes wiping an object clean, and then a half an hour staring at the object, as if to dare it to become dirty again. It took him six hours to wash his kitchen floor.

He didn’t go into the bathroom. He never cleaned his bathroom. He had one of those things you put in the toilet tank to keep it clean, and he always wiped down the sink and tried to wipe down the bath tub, but he never actually *cleaned* in there.

He hated the bathroom, which was a large part of why he was drawn to spend so much time in there.

He tried to watch some cartoons on Sunday night to reward himself for all his work, but he couldn’t focus, and ended up watching some more porn.

(…)

When he got back out to the living room, Duo was standing in front of his wall of porn disks. Trowa silently set up the coffee table for dining, setting the small cartons of food in front of each of their dishes precisely.

« Man, Tro, you really have a lot of porn. »

Trowa only looked up at Duo’s back in response.

« I hope you are fully stocked in lotion, man. » Duo turned to grin at Trowa, although he was clearly a little nervous.

Trowa considered what Duo said carefully, making sure he understood before speaking. « I don’t ever masturbate. »

Duo nearly fell over from shock. « Never? You don’t mean *never* never, do you? »

Trowa merely blinked.

« Dude… I respect your restraint, then. » Duo actually did look impressed. « Any reason why, or are you on some sorta spiritual quest? »

Trowa was amused by the concept of withholding for spiritual reasons. « I just find it… lacking. »

Duo stared at him for what felt like ages before shrugging, and plopping down on the opposite side of the couch. « Well, then, what’s the huge collection for? »

Trowa eyed his disks distrustfully. « I don’t find them arousing. They’re disgusting, actually. »

Duo laughed quietly, shaking his head. « So, naturally, you had to collect them. »

À ma connaissance, il n’existe pas de traduction française de ce texte.
(Si vous aimez cette fic, plutôt que de le dire ici, dites-le à l’auteur !)

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