|
"Wo xi wang ni shi shu yu wo de""I wish you were mine"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: Not mine. I just permanently borrowed
them for an unspecified amount of time. I’ll give them back.
Eventually. Rating: NC-15…maybe NC-17? Warnings: Yaoi, TWT, romance, lime Pairings: 5x3, 4x1x2 Author’s notes: I have no idea where this
came from. Shigeki (my muse) doesn’t either. I was just thinking
that there weren’t enough 5x3 fics—I can only think of four—and
WHAMO! There it was. The whole idea. Tell me if you like, ne? *emphasized* *sounds* //vidphone// "Wo xi wang ni shi shu yu wo de" "I wish you were mine"
Chapter One: Stratagems
No, really. They are the most brittle things on this earth. They’d have to be if a simple fall can break them. I’ve been on crutches now for over two weeks, and I can’t wait to get the damn cast off. Supposedly that would happen in a week or so, and until then my doctor had advised—in a very smug fashion—that I would just have to ‘deal with it’. If this had happened away from everyone else, I would have been able to ‘deal with it’. However, Sally took it upon herself to call Quatre and tell him what had happened. From the point onwards I have had someone hovering around me night and day. Right now I am standing in front of one of the staircases, leading up to my room, and frowning. The safehouse we were in was a townhouse, with the main rooms on the first floor and the bedrooms on the second. Someone, at some point in time, had added a second outside staircase so that one could easily access the second floor without going all the way around the house to the front door. Normally I have little problem going up and down steps. But this staircase was a little narrower than normal. If anything was going to mess me up, it would be this. Well, there was nothing for it. I certainly couldn’t call for help. Pride wouldn’t let me. My shoulders straightened in an automatic reflex. I can do this on my own. There wasn’t any need to call for help. Four steps up, I had almost knocked myself over twice. But I had caught my balance, so I was fine. Halfway up, I misjudged the step and wobbled again. I was in the process of catching my balance—and thoroughly cursing the builder of this house’s ancestry—when the other end of the crutch slipped. I tried to throw my weight forward to avoid falling over backwards, but it wasn’t working. As I started to fall my mind irreverently started cataloguing all the bones that I could break this time around— Huh? I’m not falling. The crutches landed, the sound of metal hitting wood like a minor echo in the air around me. Someone’s arms were around my waist. I tilted my head sideways to get a look at my savior. My ancestors have a very twisted sense of humor. “Thanks.” The rescuer was tall, dark auburn hair falling over one side of his face, emerald green eyes crinkled slightly in amusement. It just had to be Trowa. I would have welcomed an OZ officer at this point over him seeing me like this. He nodded to me as if he was used to catching people falling down staircases, then glanced over his shoulder at my fallen crutches. “A moment.” Before I could question his motives he had picked me up like some kind of damned fainting woman and carried me up the rest of the way. “W-wait! You don’t have to—” “Wufei. Hush.” I growled low in my throat, but I know better than to try arguing with Trowa once he’s set his mind to something. Two weeks ago, when I had first broken the bone, the guys had discussed who would stay with me. No amount of arguing on my part had convinced them that I didn’t need a baby-sitter. Then, when the argument was full-blown, Trowa had quietly announced that he would stay with me. And that was that. No more arguments. The other three had shared a speaking look, nodded, then helped us move into the new house that we were hiding in. I huffed an irritable breath, letting my displeasure be clearly known. Trowa smirked slightly, but continued up the stairs until he had reached a chair to sit me on. Once he was sure that I wasn’t going to fall off, he went back down and retrieved my crutches. I reached for them, but he held them out of range. “Why are you here?” I glared at him. “Because I’m trying to go to my room, obviously.” He wasn’t buying this. “Why did you try to use THIS route?” Earlier Trowa had given me a lecture on not using the outside staircase. I was to only use the one inside the house. I turned the glare up a notch. “Perhaps I didn’t feel like going *all* the way around the house when I had a staircase right next to me.” The snap in my voice didn’t deter him in the slightest. “Your arms are hurting, in other words.” Well, yes, they were. “That is not what I said!” With a casual shrug, he tossed the crutches onto the roof above me. I gaped at him. “Barton! What do you think you’re doing?!” “Saving us both some frustration.” Without the slightest indication of what he was thinking, he hefted me back into his arms. Ally or no ally, there are certain things that I won’t tolerate. “Barton, you will put me down and give those crutches back, or YOU’RE the one who’s going to need a cast!” The idiot ignored me. Well of course he would. I wouldn’t punch him when he was holding me. As soon as he set me down, however… He didn’t stop until he had set me on my bed and propped my leg onto two pillows. Then, once again, completely ignoring my threats, he quirked an eyebrow at me. “Do you want a book?” “If I want a book, I’ll get it myself!” That quirked eyebrow of his went up a little more. “Without crutches?” “I’d rather crawl than be carried!” I snarled up at him. And it was the truth, too. His expression closed down, becoming thoughtful. For a moment I was worried that he would chain me to the bed somehow so that I couldn’t get up and carry through with my threat. Then he pivoted about and went over to the small bookshelf that I had loaded on the first day of my arrival. Before I could form a coherent inquiry, he proceeded to drag the entire shelf over to me, positioning it so that it faced the bed. Once he was sure that it was within arm’s reach of me, he nodded. “I’ll go fix lunch.” I continued to gape at him as he left the room, pointedly leaving my door wide open so that he could hear a cry of help—or, more likely, a curse of pain. Out of the four, Trowa was the only one that I really couldn’t peg. Duo was hyper and WAY too cheerful in the morning, Quatre was gentle and as sharp as a sword’s edge, Yuy was obsessed and bent on becoming perfect…but I can never quite pin down just what Trowa is. He’s quiet…but I can never think of that silence as being a result of shyness. It’s more like he doesn’t feel it necessary to chatter endlessly, like a certain braided baka. Thank the gods. He’s always there when you need him the most. But there’s more than that. A weary sigh came out of my throat before I realized it. Despite what I proclaim, I really did need his help. I would never have managed on my own, not with all of these stairs. There’s been a few times now that I’ve been so tired just from moving around all day that I barely have the energy to eat. I couldn’t have cooked and cleaned up after myself. I would probably have managed to break an arm or something in the attempt. I really should thank him for staying here and putting up with me. Or at the very least, stop being such a grouch. Gratitude aside, however, I am NOT about to let him carry me around like some kind of weak female. I had to get those crutches back. As much as I malign the contraptions, I have to admit their necessity. Climbing up and retrieving them was obviously not a possibility. I’d break another leg trying. A grappling hook or something in that nature would probably work, however… I carefully got myself out of the bed, making no sound and trying not to land on my face. When I was up on my feet, I eased across the room by letting the wall support me. It was difficult in that I couldn’t hop, as Trowa would hear me. And if he learned of what I planned, he really would tie me to the bed. My dufflebag hadn’t really been unpacked, except the laptop and some clothes. And my books, of course. I rummaged around until I came up with a short length of rope and a magnet that I kept. An odd object to hang onto, I know, but it’s come in handy more times than I can count. Especially when I’ve just dropped some small important doohickey that I need in an abysmally unreachable location. Tools extracted, I tied everything together, slid carefully out of the room and to the outside staircase. I wasn’t as quiet as Duo, but I didn’t sound like a three legged elephant either. At any rate, I managed to make it outside without Trowa coming after me and studied the angle of the crutches. He had tossed them up quite high, so that the nearest end was about six inches away from the edge of the roof. Hm. Giving the rope a casual swing over my head, I tossed it up. The magnet landed close enough to pull itself towards the crutch. When I was sure it was firmly connected, I pulled it gently towards me. The crutch teetered a little on the edge before falling into my waiting hands. Ha. I repeated the procedure for the other crutch—it took two tosses this time—and caught it, grinning like a cat that not only had eaten the canary but knew how to get into the cream as well. I rolled up the magnet and rope, put my crutches back under my arms, and casually limped back to my room, just as Trowa was coming up with a tray. He took a long look at the crutches, the rope in my hand, then at my smug expression. “Hn.” Not one to boast of a success, I smiled politely. “What’s for lunch?” + In my defense, Trowa gave absolutely no indication of what he was planning. I didn’t hear a sound from downstairs, and he hardly spoke to me the entire evening. The hour was 6:30 am. The location: study/converted bedroom for one Chang Wufei. How did I wind up here? No idea. I went to bed in my own room upstairs, and I woke up here. Who is the perpetrator of this crime? I’ll give you one guess. There was a polite knock at the door before Trowa entered. There wasn’t a smidgeon of a smile on his face, although his eyes were sparkling madly. “Sleep well?” “This means war, Barton.” My growl was not at its best, alas. Too husky from a night’s sleep. It did not have the desired effect. Trowa didn’t quake in his boots from fear. He just smiled. “I’ll move you back up if you promise to call for help when going up the stairs.” Do I look like a pansy? Or some milk and water miss? Ha! “I’ll move myself back up!” Trowa made an elaborate study of my body. The broken leg in a caste, the crutches that would fully occupy my hands and arms, then raised a pointed eyebrow. “Hn.” I scowled back at him. “Sally—and I—will not be pleased if you break the other leg, Chang.” “She’ll be less than pleased if I break your neck, Barton. And that’s were you’re heading if you don’t stop this ridiculous game.” The first week we had been fairly occupied with moving into the safe house and smuggling me in, then checking to make sure that Heavyarms and Nataku were secure, writing up mission reports, and so forth. The second week of my recuperation had been a little more touchy feely between us simply because we had run out of things to do. But I’m not sure, at this point, if we will be able to survive the third week with our friendship intact. “If I had realized what a mother hen you are, I would have insisted that Yuy stay with me!” Urk. Trowa’s face shut down completely. “Really.” I rather felt, at that moment, like I was hanging by a piece of rope over the edge of a cliff. I wasn’t doomed yet, but my chances of getting safely back up that rope were slim. Something about that statement had hurt Trowa, which was the last thing that I intended. I was frustrated with him, yes, but I truly wouldn’t have wanted to spend the past three weeks with anyone but him. Anyone else, for that extended a period of time, would have driven me to murder. I’m at a loss as to how to dig myself back out of this hole my mouth has landed me in, though. With another scowl for good measure I leaned back against the bed. “Certainly. He wouldn’t be a mother hen, after all. Although I’m not sure if we would still be alive by the end of the required month. As I understand it, Yuy can’t cook.” Trowa aborted his turning away motion. “Does it bother you that much?” His voice was so quiet, so serious. Ancestors, I think I hit a nerve with my crass tongue. I sighed deeply. “Trowa. It is slightly insulting that you don’t trust me enough to go up and down a flight of stairs.” He wouldn’t look at me. “I’ll move you back up.” “No.” I put a rueful smile on my face just in case he looked my direction. I didn’t want to alienate my friend. “It’s a good idea. We should have done this from the beginning.” “Hn.” The line of tension in his shoulders had disappeared again. I swallowed a sigh of relief and turned my scowl back on. “That doesn’t mean, however, that I’m going to just forgive you for moving me around like a sack of potatoes without my permission. I expect an elaborate breakfast as an apology.” Trowa turned back with a very eloquently raised eyebrow. “Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” “You have one chance to rephrase that Barton, before you find the climate preference in Heavyarms permanently altered. To match the Antarctic.” His expression didn’t change a whit. “How would you like your eggs?” + After that, an unspoken cease fire existed between us. It was then that we could finally start to enjoy each other’s company. I settled myself on the couch after breakfast, a book of poetry in my lap and relaxed into what promised to be several hours of enjoyable reading. I heard the clink of dishes and water running from time to time, but it was easy to block the noise. When it stopped, I heard someone approach and looked up. To my surprise, Trowa didn’t say a word to me. He just sat on the other end of the couch, a book of his own in his hands, and proceeded to read. Now, this might seem odd to someone else, but I was quite happy with life at the moment. I disliked it when people interrupted me when I was trying to read. Good company, in my opinion, was a person that didn’t feel the need to fill up silence with a noise or distraction of some kind. Excellent company was a person that could just join in and let the silence be. If Trowa was comfortable enough to join in for a few quiet hours of reading without saying anything to me, then it proved that he was like me in this aspect. And I was very happy to know it. We must have sat there for at least three hours without a word being exchanged. Then Trowa glanced at the clock and marked his place in the book. “What would you like for lunch?” I *was* getting rather hungry. “Sandwiches are good enough. I don’t want to take you away from something that you are obviously enjoying.” I got a slight smile from him at that. “It is rather good. Alright. Ham and turkey?” It was the sandwich that I usually made for myself, but I was rather surprised that he knew without me telling him. “Yes, please.” With a nod he got up and went back into the kitchen. As soon as he was out of sight I sat up enough to take a look at the cover. David Weber? I’d never heard of him. This particular book was “The Short Victorious War”. Hm. Out of curiosity I picked it up and started reading. The next thing I noticed besides the book was a sandwich hovering in front of my nose. “Er…” “Good book, don’t you agree?” Trowa’s voice was completely bland, but there was a twinkle in his eye. Yes, actually, it was an incredibly good book. I was only a chapter into it, and I didn’t want to put it down. “No, Wufei, you can’t borrow it until I’m finished.” I looked at the bookmarker. He was only halfway through. Zhou ma. “However, if you want to start with the first book of the series…” I looked up at him eagerly. “This isn’t the first book?” “No. That’s the third book.” “Are they all this good?” “That’s the best one, I think. But they are very close to that one.” I took the plate out of his hand and grudgingly gave him the book back. “Where is it?” “I’ll get it for you after lunch.” He promised. Don’t get me wrong. I love poetry. But I also rather enjoy sci-fi. And this was excellent science fiction. The appeal was probably enhanced by the fact that I had read everything that I owned at least ten times. I wanted something new to read. Trowa didn’t hear a peep out of me for the rest of the day. I was too engrossed in reading “On Basilik Station.” Despite my desire to jump right into the second book of the series, I knew that I had completely ignored Trowa the entire day, which wasn’t at all polite. So I invited him to play a game of chess. The first few moves were done in companionable silence, and then he asked me a question about the book. Before I knew it, the chessboard had been ignored for a good half hour and we were busy dissecting the book. It looks like I was right. Trowa Barton can talk your ear off if you get him on the right subject. He just doesn’t say anything unless he thinks that there is something worth saying. I had been sitting on the couch, leg propped up while this had been going on. When the clock struck midnight, we decided to call it quits for the night and go to bed. Problem was, I hadn’t moved positions for about four hours. Guess what had fallen asleep. I attempted to move, just shift positions so that I was sitting more upright. Let me tell you something. This is not a possibility when your buttocks are asleep. I was trying not to show that anything was wrong, because I just knew what was going to happen when Trowa found out. Unfortunately, Trowa was waiting to help me up, and he could tell by the slight discomfort on my face that something was up. “Wufei?” I’d been through so many indignities during the past three weeks that I was able to swallow this one with one curse word and a sigh of resignation. “My back end is asleep.” “Hn.” Trowa maneuvered around until he could lift me up under my shoulders and swing me around so that my leg was still on the couch, but the rest of me wasn’t. Before I could really protest being dangled over the edge of the couch, he sat on the coffee table and put me on his knees. “Trowa, what are you doing?” “Fixing the problem.” I would have responded to that, if he hadn’t started running his thumbs in soothing circles over my muscles. Ahhhh. My head dropped forward by degrees and I was practically purring under his hands. Not that I would ever admit that. Dragons do not, after all, purr in contentment. He methodically went over my neck, shoulders, down my spine, and traveled over the top edge of my buttocks. By the time that he was done my muscles felt like putty. But at least my nerves were awake again. His hands fell away. I almost wished that he would never stop, but that was hardly practical. Just when I was going to shift off of his lap, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my neck. Time froze. My eyes had flown wide at that gentle touch. He—he was attracted to me? WHEN THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN?! “I’m sorry.” Trowa lifted me up onto my feet, his eyes focused on the floor. “I shouldn’t have done that.” For the first time since I had met him, I truly looked at Trowa Barton. This time I saw more than just the pilot of Heavyarms, a good friend and ally, a person that I could rely on to back me up in a mission. The teen in front of me was beautiful. I was rather ambiguous about my sexual preference. Gender didn’t mean a lot to me. Because of that I could clearly see how attractive he really was. And right at that moment, I wanted to return the soft kiss. With interest. Trowa broke away from me before I could reach for him. “Do you need help with anything?” I could have used some good advice at that moment on how to navigate this emotional mind field that I had suddenly been dropped in. “No. I’m fine. Trowa—” “Then good night.” He left before I could get my brain jump started and working again. Ma de dan! He shouldn’t pull things on me when I’m half asleep and not thinking clearly! I wasn’t sure what to make of everything tonight, but I knew this much. There was a possibility here that I could have a lover as well as a friend, with someone that I both admired and was comfortable with. Clearly, strategy was called for. ~~~~~ ~ * ~ |
