"So Kiss Me"

Written By: Dùlin

Fic #30 In the Thirty Kisses Arc

Archive: This arc is archived on this site with permission. Do not reproduce it anywhere without permission.

Pairing : 0x4, 0x1, 4x1x4

Fandom : Gundam Wing

Theme : #30 – kiss

Rating : PG

Warnings : All the kisses in Quatre’s life. Angst-ness, New Type-ness, Zero-ness.

Disclaimer : Those yummy boys belong to Sunrise and Bandai. Which are not me. The title and end theme of the fic come from the Sixpence song.


"So Kiss Me"

Quatre never got to kiss his mother. At least, not in any way that would be comprehensible to another human being. Katherine Winner died a few minutes after giving birth to him, those are the cold, hard facts. What Quatre shared with his mother is neither cold nor hard, and most people would scoff at the mere idea of it.

Even his sisters can’t know about it. They may have lived with her, but none of them shared that intimacy with her like he did, none of them were one with her for so many months like he was. That’s why none of them would understand the real reason why Quatre doesn’t miss his mother. It’s not because he never knew her. It’s because he knows her better than anyone else.

Quatre never really got to kiss his father either. Not that the man ever denied him affection, no matter how difficult and adversarial their relationship was. Quatre remembers hugs, hands ruffling his hair affectionately, words of praises that he only half-believed, the way his father could interrupt an important meeting or end a workday sooner than expected to spend some time with his son.

But Quatre always felt like his father tried too hard. His relationship with Quatre was very different from the one he had with his daughters. He loved all of his children, but Quatre was special. The only boy, the youngest, the heir. And the shadow of Katherine always hung between them, albeit without Quatre’s knowing. Now of course, Quatre wonders if maybe he didn’t try hard enough.

Quatre’s sisters kissed him a lot. He must have been the most spoiled little boy in the world, both literally and figuratively. There was always someone to run to in time of need, someone’s arms to hide into when scared, someone’s shoulder to cry onto when hurt, someone’s lap to sleep onto when tired. Another reason why Quatre never missed his mother is that he never felt he didn’t have one. On the contrary, he had so many of them, and all of them as loving and caring as Katherine could have been had she lived.

Maybe this is why it hurt so much, losing his father and his eldest sister at the same time.

****

Quatre distinctly remembers what Zero tastes like. It’s not something that can be adequately described with words, because words are not a concept that Zero can understand. Strangely, the only thing that comes close to merging with Zero is what Quatre remembers of his mother. The feeling of being one, of not being sure where he stops and where she – it – starts.

It could be why he didn’t fight harder, too. The craving must have been too strong. The other pilots seem to think that Quatre gave in to Zero because he was in a state of deep emotional distress. In a way, that’s true, but not in the way they believe.

Quatre is not sure they would understand that at one point, for a second maybe, he very much wanted to give in. The only one that could grasp this would be Heero, and only because he too came so close to Zero that giving in was not a choice anymore, it was the only way to go.

****

Heero tastes like Zero. Quatres knows this for a fact, even though he can’t describe what Zero tastes like. Sometimes, he wonders if he too tastes like Zero to Heero, and if this is why they can’t seem to have enough of each other, now that Zero is gone.

****

Kiss me, down by the broken tree house
Swing me up on its hanging tire
Bring bring bring your flowered hat
We'll take the trail marked down your father's map

Oh kiss me, beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand, strike up the band,
And make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling, so kiss me

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