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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 4 (o) Heero's POV Duo was a distraction for me whether he was far or near. I imagined him around every turn. Heard his laugh, felt his hand on my shoulder, even smelled his hair shampoo on someone else passing me. We weren't dating, but he invaded my dreams and sparked my imagination as if he was a part of my life. But he wasn't. I'd made sure of that. I'd been avoiding him in order to better concentrate on my studies. It hadn't gone so well. So what is wrong with me? The answer was clear: I missed Duo. I knew that with an unbendable certainty. Okay, then, know it all, fix the problem! I chose to remedy the situation immediately. Determined to re-connect with Duo in any way, I called him. "Heero?" "Yes, it's me reaching out." "Oh, yeah? I'm back in town. Howard passes on his 'howdy do' by the way." "Glad he remembers me." "Oh, no chance of him forgetting the likes of you. Wanna come over to my place?" he drawled in a relaxed, beckoning kind of voice. "That would be acceptable. Ten minutes?" "Now?" "If you're not too—"I supposed he might have thought I meant to visit him in the next year or so. "—Never for you! Just come over, heh, heh." He signed off amid laughter. Glad to have amused him, at least, I dashed to his house full of anticipation. I didn't have any preconceptions. I just counted on Duo being there to solve all my problems. He'd think of something. The front door was unlocked; I entered the house slowly, calling out, "Duo?" "I'm just reading." I closed the door and removed my shoes, placing them side by side with his. "I'll be right there." "Here. My room's back here." I followed his voice to a wide open doorway and stepped inside. "Wanna come to bed...here with me...tonight?" he asked in a soft, low voice. He placed a bottle of wine and glasses on the bedside table then turned to stare me down. That was fast. I felt a rush of excitement as I looked him over. It was a different experience every time I saw him. Sometimes, looking at him made me think of the teenage terrorist, other times my closest friend, and other times, like this one, he was the sexist guy around. He wore his hair loosely tied back in a low tail. His tight black tee shirt had a picture of a sad-looking dinosaur and "All my friends are dead" lettered in white below. I was staring back at the most enticing guy I'd ever seen in my life. (Tell me, Quatre, wherever you are with that Jedi-mind-reading trick of yours, what are the mathematical odds of that?) I was still too astonished to speak. No "how have you been?" No offer of food or drink. Just a proposition to sleep with him. And what a him he was! That arresting face was turned toward me, full lips currently pouting, skin still kissed by the sun, sizzling, violet-blue eyes smudged with gray eye shadow and lined in black like an Egyptian pharaoh (his latest affectation, I guessed.) Tousled light-brown bangs naturally streaked red and just long enough to cover his eyebrows in places and loose tendrils licking against the edges of his broad shoulders and hands perched now on slim hips as he glared at me. "Well? I asked you a fucking question." He insisted I answer with that look and that stance. I searched my neural pathways for a dictionary, thesaurus, any handy mental lexicon, suddenly unable to identify my own native language as I just continued to stare dumbly. Duo hesitated, and then frowned. "This is my place, my bedroom," he went on in a calmer voice, "And I expect you are staying over since it's too late for dinner and a movie and I got stuff to do in the morning, as do you, probably. You aren't planning to run out, right?" "Oh... no," I said. Brilliant, just brilliant. Now think of something else moronic to say. Sadly what came out was "Hn?" I guess it was my fate to be senseless in his presence. And somehow, rather than being angry or confused by it, Duo was fully cognizant of my impairment. Apparently he was even amused by it. He began smiling at me for some reason and leaned back against the edge of the dresser, his thighs spreading deliciously apart as he relaxed and continued to watch me a little uncertainly, as if he were trying to match my words to my mood or to my face. The guy's exotic eyes were tantalizing, an intense mesmerizing shade like something you'd find in a roiling sea in a storm. I watched him as his expression slowly altered to a wicked smile that revealed relatively white, straight teeth. I was falling under his spell. Damn, damn, damn. "You didn't answer me," he observed, eyes twinkling. "Huh?" Oh, just bury me now. I coughed, unable to hide my deepening blush as I noticed the effect (of what he was considering doing with me) on his body. A sharp image of Trowa laughing at me came to mind. I shoved it away, angered that he would intrude at such an intimate moment. It did help me find my speech center in my brain, however. "Uh, yeah, okay. Sure." "Sure-sure? Like, you can do that? What-the-hey, ya know? Might as well give it a go, say what? Or do you mean like 'Wow, Duo, that's a terrific idea. Love to.' Heh, heh..." he trailed off into a chuckle. I felt my face warm with a new flush of embarrassment. Finding a chair not covered in his discarded clothes took a moment, and then I fell into it as my knees weakened entirely, and waited for what was to come. Duo just laughed and walked lazily towards the chair I was still half sprawled in. He leaned down with a hand on either armrest and kissed me full on the lips, a slow leisurely kiss with just enough tongue action to shut back down whatever parts of my brain had managed to come online after the visual assault. He pulled back to survey the damage he'd wrought, searching my heated face and then smiled again. "I like the tongue stud—" I said, trying to put it in a voice just this side of downright sultry, and then stumbled over saying his name, putting my clever comment in the "inane" context, "-ahh...D-duuu." He stood and walked to the bed, then turned. My eyes followed him like iron filings on a magnet. "Name's Duo Maxwell," the idiot said with a wink. He seemed to take my idiocy in stride as he stretched to yank off his t-shirt. "You seem to have trouble rememberin' that." Yeah, sure, funny dude. My eyes dropped to that chest, then lower as he began to unzip his jeans. I laughed at myself, sitting up in the chair and shaking my head. "Want me to turn out the light?" he asked. I nodded. As much as I wanted to continue watching him, I was sure I'd make a bigger fool of myself in about twenty seconds unless the lights dimmed. Duo turned slowly, hand lingering on his belt buckle as he did, then walked to the switch at the door and flicked it off, leaving only the light from the bathroom to illuminate the room. He returned to the bed this time and stood silently for some minutes while I watched. "'Ro?" Duo's voice sounded loud in the quiet of the room. "Hn?" I said without turning. "You coming to bed?" His voice was soft. He unloosened his belt and dropped his pants. I heard the soft rumpling of fabric as it hit the floor. I cleared my constricted throat. "Um...in a minute." "Okay." Duo sighed what sounded like his own brand of frustration and slipped under the covers. I hoped it would be easier to talk in bed and I'd been looking forward to curling up next to him and having a conversation. That's how I knew I needed his friendship badly. Did I want to jeopardize it for a sexual encounter? What if I separated the two? He could be my friend and... we could fool around. Just keep the "love you forever" tripe out of it. Yeah. Yeah, that was it. That's the kind of thing he'd understand. Could I do that? Duo certainly seemed able to handle dispassionate affairs with other men, or so Trowa had informed me; could he now with me? Was that what I wanted, though? My thoughts were all tangled up, as usual. Duo radiated a kind of casual authority and certainty, I found that reassuring. His usually expressive face remained impassive as he returned my gaze from across the darkened room. So, he hadn't judged me to be too pathetic yet. I walked to the bed. I could hear Duo's even breathing in the dimly lit room. I struggled out of my shirt, added it to the floor pile, and looked down at Duo's loose hair spread out across the pillow. I hadn't seen it out of the braid that way and my fingers twitched anticipating the feel of it. Excited as I was, I might have stood there indefinitely, staring, had Duo not said something. "Nice," he purred. With that for encouragement, I unhooked my jeans and wiggled out of them. Duo's breathing grew louder and quicker, so I took my time folding and setting the jeans on top of the t-shirt, making a neat pile. Wearing only underwear, I pulled up the edge of the covers and climbed into the bed carefully, trying not to jiggle Duo. What was I afraid he'd do, bite? Fall apart? Duo's body stirred beside me. "Mmm...'Ro?" I could see his eyes glitter slightly in the dim light. "Yeah?" I answered back nervously. "You must be tired, babe. Want a backrub?" His smile was concealed in the darkness, but I could hear it. "Umm..." Somehow "no" just wasn't coming out of my mouth. This wasn't about sex then. I should have thought of that. But... a prelude to sex, possibly? No, something in-between. Something Duo would be in control of. I could be his lover or friend or both, if he'd just clue me in on what he wanted! Duo chuckled and pushed himself up on his elbows. "That sounded suspiciously like a 'yes'." I laughed quietly then constructed and entire sentence. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind a backrub, I guess." "Not one of mine," Duo emphasized, rising up to kneel beside me. "Wufei gave me lessons—massages only." He patted my shoulder. "Be a good boy and roll over." I laughed nervously again and followed the command, rolling over and putting my cheek down against the pillow. Duo straddled my back, placed his hands on my neck, and began his task with kneading the tight muscles, digging his thumbs in to loosen the tension there. Oh, that felt good. I moaned softly, it felt so good after the long day and Duo's hands were strong. I murmured into the pillow, "You should be a professional masseur; you have real talent in those fingers (I meant to say all that but I think I ended with mff)." He worked his way down my spine, digging in and relaxing each muscle group in turn, then shook his head saying, "Nope. It's just for people I care about; my talent can't be bought." "Mmm, just as well," I agreed against the pillow as he hit a particularly tight section in my lower back. As I relaxed, I grew aware of Duo's body weighing on mine and heat flared in those places we touched and then spread outward. He reached down to surreptitiously adjust 'things'. Friendship with Duo, especially accompanied by this kind of proximity, was going to make any resolution to damp down my heart more difficult, I knew, but I had no intention of changing our relationship itself. Just my own emotional reaction to it. Unless he changed things. I could do this. It wasn't his fault that I was having difficulty, so why penalize him with some kind of dramatic scene or hysterical demand to alter our friendship? I just had to gain control of myself. I had quick vision of Mr. Spock in the Vulcan desert; it was a scene from one of the many downloads Duo and I had watched in that tiny cabin. Detached. In control. Ah, but hadn't Spock failed that training in stoicism? Damn. I pushed that nagging thought away and concentrated on letting Duo's hands soothe the stress in my body. Duo's friendship wasn't something I wanted to jeopardize with promises of love and jealous demands of fidelity. I really could do this. Duo hit an especially sensitive spot and I groaned in appreciation. He slid his hands a tiny bit further down and kneaded just above my butt. "Mmmm...Duo?" I muttered. "Like that?" His hands stroked and massaged a little lower yet. "Mmm-hmm. Don't stop...well...except..." "It's dark, babe, but I can tell you're blushin'. You're lightin' up the room." The pillow muffled my self-conscious laughter. "Yeah, well..." I murmured, stretching my legs apart to get more comfortable. Duo waited until I'd re-settled before lowering himself across my back and nuzzling into my neck. "Feeling better yet?" I snickered as his long hair tickled down my sides. Duo nipped my earlobe and I gasped at the unexpected rush of blood and feeling. The heat of Duo's body touched mine from head to toe and I could feel his hardness against my thigh. He pushed down my underwear with his hand, and then used his foot to toss it off the bed. He groaned again, needy, and ground into me. "Hee-ro—" I did the smartest thing yet—I stopped questioning his motives and mine. And I simply gave in to it all. Gave in to our impulses. I should have drunk half that bottle of wine to deaden the occasion even more, maybe, because after it was over, I was a bit disappointed. It hadn't felt totally awe inspiring like I'd expected; it even hurt. Duo was great, mind you. His kisses more intoxicating than the wine. His hands should be licensed love-weapons. It was the final act that wasn't... great. I knew there had to be more to sex or no one would ever go through that again. My first sex with Duo exhausted me physically and emotionally. We lay together a moment or two before he rose and padded to the bathroom. He returned with a damp washcloth and a couple towels. As he proceeded to clean us up, me mostly, we didn't talk more than a few words of assurance. Duo claimed he'd never had a "first timer" before and may have been a little rough. I told him I could take it and something in my tone must have set him off, because suddenly he was falling all over himself with promises to "make it up to me" and vows to "do better". I brushed him off, telling him not to dwell on it and I'd be fine and forget it and hoped he would. Like that would happen. He curled around my back and we both dropped off to sleep. (o) Trowa's POV I couldn't have chosen a more demanding area of study if I'd tried. Medicine required all my waking hours, some of my sleeping ones, and a large portion of my soul. I logged in hours of dedicated work and training and scholarship, and when I would get a free moment, I'd call Quatre. If it was possible at all we would try to get together—moving the stars aside to hasten the travel time. Often, he would be able to leave whatever he was already embroiled in and join me. But as time marched on, as likely or not he couldn't. I became increasingly dissatisfied, frustrated and even more insistent that he make time for me. I told him that what I was doing was more important than whatever he was busy with and that I should come first. It was true, I believed. Well, he didn't agree. We had words. There came a time when we had a fight that left him crying. I felt awful. I couldn't concentrate on a test and nearly screwed everything up. I put in hours of extra credit work to make it up. I couldn't risk a bad grade and fail at medical school. But after that, I skipped across the galaxy to find him on L4, steal him away, and return him to earth. I took him out to his sadly neglected beach cottage. The house, too big to be a cottage, belonged to his family, but since none of them visited the Sanc Kingdom, it was basically his. There, I apologized and we made up and we sweated together to repair the roof and clean inside. And there we made love together for the first time. It was terrific. Well, I wasn't, but the occasion was. He was young and inexperienced and uncomfortable. I needed to let off a little steam, but really, it wasn't all that. I was grateful for everything he did for me, especially that. There was the roar of the ocean in the background. No music; we didn't need that. The sun was obscured by clouds, but it could have been going super-nova for all I cared or noticed. Quatre was at the center, like a vortex sucking in me and all my energy. Well, most of it. We were undressing and I'd gone off about some classmate I disliked because I hadn't worked off all my stress from school yet, I guessed. Quatre, thankfully, was there to help me forget. "Uh, huh... so about me," Quatre said with a smile and chuckle as he stretched out naked on the bed. Me, I blushed on cue. I point that out because I rarely did that, but I'd been staring at him, just staring and talking about the hated Kurt guy, while he'd stripped off his clothes. I'd missed his entire show. "Yeah, what about you?" I purred. I would miss no more, I vowed. He brought an arm up and encircled my neck, using that to haul me in for a kiss so passionate and filled with desire that I moaned like a lioness in heat. I remember being amazed at the softness of his skin and the reactions that the barest caress could bring from him. My Quat really liked sex once he got the hang of it. I was enjoying the pleasure I could give him with such simple strokes, when he reached out and touched me, suddenly squeezed my erection. I gasped at the exquisite bliss, and then pulled his hand off me, and rolled to the side, shuddering with my climax. "Oh...my," he sighed. "That hasn't happened to me since I was...a teenager. I thought I'd have more control than that." I looked into his eyes and said simply, "It's you..." He starting blushing out of embarrassment for me, which was funny since I really wasn't bothered at all- more amused, bordering on impressed. "...aaaand it's been quite a while," I admitted. He giggled, and I balled up some sheet to clean off. "Come on, we can share the shower. I've always wanted to wash your hair. Can I? Please?" he begged boyishly. His candidness and humor won me over. Sex was sloppy - so what, it should be fun. It liked his attitude. No worries. The next time was better and after that it became amazing. Afterwards, we talked. Really talked. He understood my dream to become a doctor and supported me fully knowing the years of medical school I'd only begun on earth. But... I had to accept his vision of the future as well, to continue to run his family's business, the Winner Corporation based on L4. Two professionals with overflowing schedules, could we survive it? Or should we give up and let the currents sweep us apart and out into that vast sea of strangers and take our chances? We were not sure. Not that day. But that night we committed to try to hold onto our "special" friendship a little while longer. I stared into his eyes and was at a loss for the right words to describe how I felt. My vocabulary fell short. Making love to the man I was in love with (and yes...I told him so, too. It went something like this: Quatre, I-I...I love you), was like nothing I had ever experienced. I was overwhelmed with joy and wants I couldn't express with just words—or so my rational mind thought. Suddenly though, words started appearing, forming in my mouth, out of nowhere! They burst from my lips faster and hotter than kisses. I blurted out everything! I wanted him to marry me and have my babies (which was only possible via test tubes and a willing egg donor, but hey...), and be there waiting for me when I got home. I did my best to tell him. To be open and honest. I was earnest; I'm sure he knew I was, too, because he cried when he turned me down. "I-I can't!" his voice was shrill. "Oh, Trowa, I've waited so long to hear you say 'I love you'. And a proposal! I would have jumped to say 'yes' in the past, when I didn't know better." Even as I was trying to assimilate that Quatre had turned down my pitch to get married, I knew he was right. I was being overly possessive and selfish. But...but...he said no! NO! I blushed with shame and didn't even try to hide my pain. "It was a rash thing to say. I should have known better than to ask that of you in the heat of ...passion." He smiled. "You were being all noble and gallant, I know. You wouldn't want me to give up my virginity unless you were willing to marry me." All right. If he thought I was being noble, I could go that route. Quatre took my pause to mean he should say more to ease my disappointment. "I mean, I do want to marry you, Trowa. I really, really do! But...not right now. I have so much I want to do and so do you! We hardly have time to see each other as it is. You understand, right? You do see my point, don't you?" I sighed, "Of course." "And if I said 'yes', we couldn't get married right now anyway. So, then we'd want to wait and put it off until we had time...and what if that took too long—" -and one of us died. The war was over but the peace was fragile. Pilots could be targets for angry people we'd fought against. The thought hung out there even though neither of us could say it, would say it. But he took the conversation in a direction I hadn't thought of. "-and one of us found someone else to do things with when we had a spare minute." My heart sank through the floor where he could stomp on it further. "A-and... then we'd feel all guilty and feel like we were sneaking around and I just don't want to be dishonest with you." Quatre gasped to catch his breath. I felt that terrible pang of jealousy. "Is there someone...else?" His answer, a punch to the arm, and a sharp-edged, "Trowa!" "But you want to leave the possibility open," I fined-tuned my query, hating every word. "For both of us," he said sharply. "I know you see others." A faint film of pink colored his cheeks. "Ah..." Well I had, but not many since med school, and they'd all been meaningless. "Some, but I don't date them or anything like that. I don't care about them like I do you." "I understand. So, I might have...encounters, too. And sometimes I will want to go places and have fun, times when you'll be too busy. And...and...I guess I'm just not ready to give it all up yet and get married and spend my time waiting for you to spare me a minute. And most of all, I want to try making it on my own first." "And be a businessman," I said. "Yes, and know that I can take care of myself. Then when I get married, I will know that it's for love, not convenience- or worse." "Worse?" What was he thinking of? "Like out of fear of losing you." That had to have been a hard thing for him to admit. It would have been for me. "Quatre. You are so principled. You know that now I'll have to live up to your standards?" He smiled. "Do you want to?" "Yes," I admitted. I did. "Good. That's why I said it! You are free to do as you like, but when we are both ready to give up what it takes in order to share a life together, then you will still be there, and so will I. Because you will always be here in my heart." His hand was on my heart, just as mine lowered to his. And then I knew what it meant to truly be in love; to be willing to give up what you wanted most in order to do what was right. "The just thing", was still a part of Wufei's credo and seemed to fit this instance, incredibly. I fucking hated "noble."
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