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"Braid"Written By: Kaeru Shisho Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language Pairings: 1x2. 3x4. 5x6 Summary: The interlaced stories of the GW pilots
mirror their entwined friendships as they romance their way through
life. "Braid " Chapter One Introduction By hook or by crook (mostly sneaky bribes) I got my buds to write this account starting from a point after the war ended and ending with our escape to L5. Now, for all that it sounds like an exciting adventure story, it's not. I've misled you. And not for the first time. This is a romance. This is a romance story about us, created out of submissions from Trowa, Quatre, Wufei and Heero—and a word, literally, from Milliardo. I've stuck in one teeny, tiny bit about my time with Heero, but mostly this is it. This is all he writes—an introduction- oh, and a happy ending. So, without further delay- Oh, about the title. Yeah, a delay; I've misled you again. Heh, heh. "Braid" sorta implies it's about my hair. You know it's not, because I already told you what the story is about, and even though you know I can be deceptive, I'm not a liar. "Braid" provides a visual description of the technique I used to I weave the different parts of the story together. Trowa's (with a smidgen from Quat), Heero's (with another of those smidgens, but from me), and Wufei's (with even less than a smidgen, a smid, a word, from Milliardo)—that's three parts, like my braid, even though it is not about my braid, but you can see the analogy, or will once I stop with the introduction and allow you to follow how it goes. Just to warn you, though, like my braid, this is a little rough in parts, uneven, frayed, to take the analogy a bit further. So, it is sorta like my hair, heh, heh... yeah. Hope you enjoy this. —Duo Maxwell (o) Trowa's POV "Leave him alone," Rashid's voice rasped, sounding muffled in all that beard of his, and his back was turned so Quatre couldn't hear him. What he'd said had been meant for my ears only. I shot the older man a disparaging look. I didn't need to ask Rashid why; I knew why. This was my second time visiting Quatre at the Maguanac retreat on the edge of the Sanc Kingdom. My first visit had been during the war and had lasted a day and a night, with a similar order as I was hustled to the exit. Quatre and I had been just boys then, me a very dangerous one, but surrounded by the older fighters that were devoted to him, I wasn't about to fight. No, I'd been outnumbered and outmanned. I hadn't wanted to risk my life just to kiss a pretty boy. This time we were older, and he was less pretty. He was handsomer, sexier, and unaware of it, which made him all the more alluring. The war was over, Quatre and I were heroes, of sorts; our side had won. Filled with bravado and raging hormones, I was determined not to be intimidated by Rashid or obey his orders. If Quatre wanted me to leave, he'd have to tell me himself. "Hey," I asked the young man who'd captured my heart, keeping my voice muted for him. "Headache better?" "Well, today is cancelled due to migraine. Hopefully tomorrow will be headache-free and productive," Quatre said without looking up. He seemed plunged into a profound suspicion by a mug of tea. "What kind of herbs did you say Wufei put in this tonic? I hope it doesn't make me sick to my stomach or put me to sleep. Have you ever drunk this, Trowa?" Rashid's eyebrows drew into a single black line. He hadn't taken a seat and he hadn't indicated that I could. We shared the increasingly shrinking space uncomfortably. I may have smiled fractionally. A thought appeared in my mind: if I had been a puppy, Rashid would have drowned me to protect the breeding line. I wasn't certain where the thought had originated; Quatre and I had shared feelings across the universe, but not actual thoughts before. When I looked at him, although his eyes were downturned, he wore a faint smile. That bucked my courage a bit more. I straightened and moved around the table, closer to where Quatre was sitting. "Yes," I told him. "I have. It helps with headaches; don't ask me how, but the Chinese having been drinking that shit for thousands of years without it diminishing their population. If you'd like, I'll walk you to your room so you can lie down. I can carry the tea." "Oh, well. Yes, I think I'd rather loll about a bit where it's dark and quieter." And off he went, with me loyally at his heels, panting at his side like a lost puppy who'd found his owner at last. I guessed immediately that he'd read my mind, when he choked back a laugh. "Don't!" he said, wincing. "Laughing hurts my head!" So, our mental line of communication was real! That closed that line of questioning for now. I took comfort in the fact that from here on out we'd never be apart, no matter what distance separated us. I told him, "I wouldn't mind if you invaded my mind again. You have my permission to share your thoughts anytime." "That's very... kind of you, but I don't think it's a good idea. I wouldn't want some frivolous interruption of mine to startle you and by chance cause an accident." I felt a sharp stab of disappointment, but then realized that he was right. "So, if I hear voices in my head?" "You are crazy, unless it includes a 'dog' reference, then you know it's me, and it would signal a serious situation." "And I should pay attention. I'll remember that." After that, Quatre rarely invaded my mind. He could 'feel' my strong emotions occasionally, but I never felt his. Still, I knew. The longing. I saw it. Every so often when Quatre didn't think I could see him: a reflected image in a window, behind sunglasses, a flicker before he hid his eyes in his bangs or a smile- desire, naked and raw. For me. I hoped it killed him, because resisting him was going to be the death of me. I had my chances and I didn't do a thing. Maybe I wanted to prove Rashid wrong and prove my worthiness. Would I be just as much a corrupter of him as Rashid guessed? At least I kept my perversions in my head. I didn't act on every impulse, just a few. And not with him, others, later, after I was on my own again. My first sexual experiences were, well, lame. Crippled by the lock-down I kept on my feelings had much to do with it. The mechanical part of sex is pretty much automatic for a guy. I couldn't have cared less what my partner at the time felt. I got past the moral issues since I knew the other boys with whom I was consorting really didn't know me or love me either, that it was all superficial and point-scoring on their part anyway. It allowed me to justify meaningless sex as, well, just that. I wasn't looking for true love or a life. Not much of a catch was I? I would have told anyone who'd ask that I was saving myself, emotionally for Quatre. Until he changed his mind about me. I attempted to modify our brotherly relationship on my next visit. Part of the Winner's Sanc country estate included a few acres of unimproved parkland, which butted up to a small forest preserve. A small entourage of Maguanacs on a rotating duty roster provided the simple security Quatre required. Rashid was not there at this time. I arrived in the early evening, and Quatre rushed me outside before I'd had time to set down my rucksack. He held my hand and picked out a trail to a shaded outlook. It was after dinner, but hours from sundown on a searing hot late summer day, when we reached his favorite "spot". "Look, there they are," Quatre whispered. I sighted along his arm to a finger pointing toward the dry meadow. A small herd of deer, adult females and a mix of youths were taking turns eating and watching. "Umm," I leaned back to rest my head in his lap. "Right on time." He ran his fingers through my bangs, pushing them off to the side. The buzz of cicadas lulled me into a dreamy state. I could still hear the shrill cries of the gnat-eating swallows swooping low over the drying stream, then veering off toward their nests in the trees. Quatre had brought a book to read. I knew that sometimes what he liked best, what he needed most, was quiet. The out-of-doors and peace from the emotional turbulence of other peoples' minds that bombarded his sensitivities. A short span of time passed. A cooling breeze stirred a few strands of hair over my eyes. "Was I asleep?" "Yes. Feel like picking flowers with me?" he asked, while closing his book gently. "Sure." "The Queen Anne's Lace is pretty with the poppies," he said. "Oh, look over there, pink flowers." "That's a variety of vetch, a wild pea. Would you like some?" Of course he wanted some. Play the gallant retriever for me, came his thoughts aimed straight at my brain. I might have stumbled for the surprise of it. "That was the first time you did that since I was here last," I managed to say. "And I almost made you fall..." his voice trailed off and he turned away so I could chew that over in private, I guessed. He could be a danger to me, but so what? I found a stand of clear, blue cornflowers, all on my own, picked three long stems, combined them with other flowers, and delivered them over. "These almost match your eyes." The delicate flush of pink on his cheeks contrasted beautifully with the windblown strands of his buttery, gold hair, and then his big, honest eyes opened, "Really? Oh, how pretty! Thank you." I wanted to kiss him and hold him and more; I blushed at the thoughts I had of what I like to be doing with him. I hoped he wasn't "receiving" thoughts. Knowing he couldn't miss the lust radiating off me was bad enough. He seemed too special to ruin with such base thoughts, the kind that could get me into so much trouble with him. I felt like I would be the one trying to man-handle him every time I reached for him. As teenage terrorists, we'd managed a few meaningful touches, whispered promises, nothing more. When the war ended, I had run off to the circus and he to his corporate family. I hadn't proper computer access; I hadn't known how to contact him, and he had not contacted me. We were out of communication for a while, until the circus made its rounds to his neck of the woods. This time when the circus was in the area I took a few days off, and he made time for my visit. I still wasn't certain how to act around him, and now, we only had the day left to us; what could I do with just one? I decided I would have to make more of myself to be worthier, truly. I was just a killer and a clown. What I needed was a kind of purification. To become a healer. As a doctor, I could save lives. Would Quatre then think I was a worthwhile suitor (that's sounds old-fashioned enough for him to have used)? I sighed to expel the worn air with my eternal self-doubts. "I'm going to finish college and become a doctor," I announced. "Oh, Trowa! That's wonderful news! I just know you'll make it happen. You're so capable!" This time he let me kiss him all I wanted, with limitations, there in the late-summer sunshine, in the tall grass with the swallows and cicadas and the foraging deer as the sun dropped low on the horizon. (o) Heero POV Duo wanted something, but I couldn't figure out what it was, until he kissed me in greeting one morning. "Mornin', 'Ro." He kissed me lightly on the lips, rolled over and out of the bed we shared. Right after the war we took Relena at her word, believed in the new peace, and agreed to try our hands on a re-construction job. An area of Sanc damaged by bombings was being turned into a conservation area with recreation and undeveloped wild lands. Together, we built a small cabin, trucked in water and propane, and played campout for weeks on end, while in the Sanc government corps employ. I found the experience fun and rewarding. We got along fine. Worked well together. And then the kiss happened. To be honest, deeply hidden inside, I wanted something to happen, and I was beginning to understand what it was I wanted. After weeks of sleeping on his mattress, side-by-side, him naked and lying against me, I had become frustrated as hell. There had never been any question that Duo was sexy, but me-being-me- taking myself very seriously during the war and retarding my emotional development in the process- had been so all-consuming that I hadn't really thought about Duo in those terms. Not until recently. Once I started looking at him, catching more "'glimpses" of his naked body, I found it hard to stop. But stop I did. I put up stumbling blocks and tried out different styles of blinders. Even if emotionally I was interested in pursuing the "Duo tangent", as I thought of it, in my head there was a job to do, and that was paramount. Just as in the past, I had elevated my missions to first and foremost. Denying my body and emotional desires in favor of completing objectives was so ingrained in me it was practically instinctual. Personal needs took a backseat. Overcoming a shortfall was in my repertoire, but ignoring Duo was becoming very challenging. I'd have to learn new skills to handle my Duo problem and I had no Doctor J to direct me. Being the clever guy he was, Duo was giving me some time to get used to the idea. It was unspoken, but understood that the energy between us had changed even if neither of us was doing anything about it. Except getting increasingly frustrated; at least, on my part. With the kiss, I got my wake-up call. Duo had declared, in essence, "Time's up!" I had been getting dressed, sneaking looks at him in his boxers as I pulled my pants on. His toned and lean body showed some bulk coming on it as he grew out of his skinny teenage years. His skin was lightly tanned and his arms bore faint sun-bleached hair, attesting to our time working outside on earth. When he turned, I could better admire his smooth chest complete with that rope of a braid he still kept. Very nice. Somewhere in-between glancing at him and buttoning my jeans, Duo moved swiftly across the room and caught my lips in his- again. It was shocking, abrupt, and sent my head spinning. It was nothing like what I had expected and everything that drove me crazy. My head swam- and that was no exaggeration! This was real and happening to me. That kiss made me stupid with desire. When he removed his lips from mine, I had temporarily lost the reasonable parts of my mind. Other parts of me were screaming, but my head was devoid of thought. I took an unsteady step back and found him smiling at me. "You kiss all your friends like that?" I asked, for lack of anything better to say. "Only the hot ones." "Reality check for Duo," I shook my head. I was not "hot". Compared to him, I was ordinary in the looks department. "Why did you do that?" Stupid question? Yes, but with half a functioning brain, the pure animal part, it was the best I could do. "Thought it might help you make up your mind." He was still smiling, completely relaxed. I guess I wasn't looking very intimidating all starry-eyed and all. "Hn." I ran my hands through my hair, both hands, one after the other, mussing it worse than it already was, and slumped against the wall. "What's up?" He leaned next to me. As always, he was oozing calm-and-matter-of-factness, but his presence was doing just the opposite to me. "I just... don't want to get into this. Especially with you. It'd mess everything up." As I scooted past him and out the door, I heard his whispered answer, "How do you know?" We played "avoidance" all day, but in a nice way. He never gave me that hurt look Quatre surely would have, or disappeared into a secret dimension like Trowa could, or exaggerated the incident all out of proportion like Wufei might have. He just went about his work ignoring me for the most part. I, however, didn't do such a great job of doing the same. I had expectations. If I slept in Duo's bed that night, the alternative being the floor, something was going to happen, or maybe I just hoped it would. I didn't mind the idea of tempting fate, and going to bed with Duo was definitely tempting fate; I certainly had lived a life rife with risk so far. Actually stepping beyond the theoretical and making a move of my own was highly unlikely, though. I would be crossing that real but invisible line that separated friends from lovers. I didn't want to be responsible for whatever decision I made, but if it just happened? It was a restless night. It seemed I'd been wrong about the tempting fate thing, since Duo had plunked himself on the other side of the mattress and was apparently taking the high road. Disappointment and dissatisfaction blended and built a giant cinder cone within me as the seconds ticked past. I could feel the pressure gather- going from being pissed at myself, to being pissed at Duo for kissing me, and back to being just plain frustrated. Duo must have sensed the near volcanic state I was in. His arm reached out across the mattress just after midnight and pulled me back against him. By this time I was so needy, I bit my lip to keep from making a noise when my body contacted with his warmth. This restraint wasn't determined enough that I could maintain it when his arm accidentally brushed the rise of my chest through my t-shirt. A short gurgling sound emitted from my throat, which seemed noisy in the dark, silent, one-room cabin. There was a definite and unnatural stillness from Duo. "Sorry," I whispered, mortified. "Don't be sorry," he said softly. "I've been waiting for you to ask." Now it was my turn to suffer from rigor mortis like symptoms. The intensity of it all just froze my muscles, and when his hand moved, flattening out on my stomach, I groaned. "God, Duo-" I could feel my heart throbbing in my stomach. "Do you like it?" he whispered. I curled into him and then stretched my limbs around and through his in answer. My traitorous body was begging for more, but I couldn't get my lips to move, to tell him I wanted him to continue. He stopped his ministrations abruptly. "Shit, don't worry 'bout it. Settle down, 'Ro, now sleeeep..." But I didn't want to sleep this time! Still, all he did was hold me close and make no further sexual overtures. Taking that hard, high road. That's where things remained for the few weeks of the work season remaining to us. He certainly had no problem avoiding contact with me after that. I did manage to get a lot of writing done in the evenings. My laptop kept my mind off Duo, a little, and it allowed me to retain some semblance of normalcy. We retained our friendship, but the special closeness which he'd shared with me was gone. (o) Trowa's POV One winter break from my classes, Quatre flew to Sanc, visiting me, for the entire four weeks. I had acquired an SUV since the last time we'd talked, especially for taking him places. I collected him and his bags at the shuttle port. "Where are we going?" he asked after running through all the small talk. We were leaving the station. "A real vacation in the mountains. How does that sound?" "Yummy! Does it come with food?" "Yeah. Now sit back and enjoy the tour." I drove through Sanc, pointing out the palace and other places he'd visited in the past, before turning onto the highway out of town. "Pretty. I've missed earth and all its green," he said. "The quiet." We were passing pastureland and fields spotted with sheep, which he adored, naturally. Dinner was a hamburger, fries and shake at a roadside stand. It was very good and not at all what I'd been expecting for a first real dinner date with Quatre. "He's an uncommon commoner." It was Zechs, Milliardo, who once said that about him. It was true then as ever will be, and he hadn't even known the half of it. We reached a small mountain town near sunset. Snow blanketed the landscape, although the road had been cleared recently. He was enchanted by the sight. "We should find a place to stay here," he commented with a yawn accompaniment. "Sorry." "Don't be. You've been traveling- for days probably." I thought the rustic hotel looked appealing and so did he. I entered at his heels and stood at the counter by his side. "Two rooms, please," he told the proprietor, in case the man imagined otherwise. "Of course." He took one key and I the other, a heavy old-fashioned thing that looked as if it went to the lock of a pirate's treasure chest. "Quaint," he remarked. "Isn't it?" I looked at the stairs, worn wood ascending steeply. "Fitting, I suppose." I hefted my bag and climbed up the stairway. "It's been a long day," he said. "I thought I'd shower and go to bed. Good night, Trowa." "Good night." I tamped down my disappointment. Not every opportunity was going to include a little sex, it seemed. I was going to learn how to master myself, if I wanted to continue dating Quatre; however, I didn't think I'd ever be able to get used to it. I entered my room. It was rustically nice. I showered and lay in bed, unable to sleep. I was wired from head to toe. Thinking that a little Q time would help, I drew on my kimono, a gift from Heero from his trip to Japan, and went next door. I knocked on Quatre's door. I waited and knocked again, eventually hearing footsteps. The door opened. "Is there a problem?" he asked, sounding faintly amused. "Ah... no, not with the room. I just can't sleep." "I was doing all right." "Sorry," I muttered and turned to go back. What had I done with my room key? I patted my kimono pockets, my pajama bottoms—no key! Damn! I trotted downstairs and buzzed the office. I buzzed repeatedly until I noticed a note taped to the counter: "Find me at the lodge shindig or ring the sheriff in an emergency—Al." Well, I wasn't going out into the night in my pajamas to run down "Al" for a spare key, and I didn't think the sheriff would consider my plight to be of emergency status. I dashed back to Quat's door and rapped again. It opened quicker this time. "Yes?" he asked, looking a little tousled. "I'm having my own difficulties getting to sleep now." "I-I locked myself out." "The attendant downstairs probably can lend you a spare." "You'd think so. He's not in. Just, move aside and let me in. I can sleep on the floor, if necessary." I hoped the floor would not be compulsory. He brushed a thumb lightly over my lower lip, and then was gone. That simple gesture sent tingles all through me. I stood in the hall, watching him until he disappeared into his room, leaving the door ajar—an invitation. "I'll just need a blanket, if you have one to spare." My eyes sought out the silvery shimmer of his hair in the dark. He lay on the narrow bed. "If you find one, it is yours." The man's voice sounded tired. "I'm sorry to bother you this way." I really was. "Don't worry. It's not you. I pulled my shoulder the other day practicing with my sword. Stupid thing to do." "I can help with that," I said quickly. Healing massages were a specialty of mine. The circus trainer was the best teacher. Quatre was putty in my hands- wonderful; that is, if I had wanted putty. "How's that? Yeah, the muscles were so tight, tense. You should be able to sleep better now." I slapped his nice shoulder. When he turned to look at me, his eyes smoldered in the dim light reflected off the snow outside. "Trowa..." his hands gripped my arms. He burned a kiss onto my lips I would never forget. I would be branded for life now, I feared. I fell backwards onto a high pile of down pillows with him in my arms. I was thinking about making some clumsy move, when I felt an invasive hand smooth up my chest. His torso stiffened slightly. I opened my eyes, wondering what was next, when he smiled knowingly, like a minx. "Hey!" I shouted and batted away at his hand just to keep things light and fun and to tease him a little. "Just because I gave you a massage is no reason to get all...What's that?" "Ah, ha!" he chuckled and pulled his hand out of my left breast pajama pocket. He held up a glittering object. My room key. "Oh!" How could I have forgotten where I'd put that?! He had a good laugh over it, saying he knew I hadn't done it on purpose. Still, he kicked me out, after a nice kiss, to sleep in my own bed, like a dejected puppy. And, yes, that description came via Quatre's thought processes. Ruff! And that sounded exactly like a sarcastic "Rough."
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