Never Forget

Rating: NC-17 for the whole fic, PG-13-ish this part

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. If I did, the series would be chock-full of tasty shounen ai goodness. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic.

Pairings: 4+2+4, 4x2, 2+1+2, 4+1+4 (?), 1x4 ... uh, no not all at the same time.

Warnings: Shounen ai/yaoi... and a whole lot of it, lemon... and a whole lot of it, angst... and a whole lot of it, obsession... and a whole lot of it, dark... just a dash (depending how you look at things), seduction. And a lot of symbolism. 

 

Chapter Three: Pocket Full of Posies

"This is a story about Love. Keep telling yourself that and you just might believe it."

-----------------------------------

When Heero and his deep sapphire eyes looked up again to witness Quatre's return, he was surprised to see the blonde carrying an armful of yellow roses. He stood up and crossed the veranda but did not step out into the sunlight of the garden. He offered up a startled noise as Quatre pushed some of the roses into his hands.

 

"Aren't they beautiful, Heero?" the blonde cooed. "I thought that they might not bloom so well because of the heat, but look at this. So many! I guess they like the sunlight more than I thought."

 

Quatre took his time settling the pile of flowers onto the table, the darkness of the wood smothered by the false golden yellow of the roses. Blonde bangs obscured his marine eyes and Quatre was able to discreetly watch Heero's every movement. The dark-haired boy merely stood stunned, staring at the bouquet that had been pushed into his hand. Then Prussian eyes flickered to the smaller boy, widened, and Heero carefully set aside his gift.

 

"You're bleeding, Quatre," Heero's voice rumbled. His hand reached out, pulling Quatre's right arm away from his body and examining the multitude of scratches tracing its length. Prussian blue followed the network of shallow and faint wounds across one arm, across an expanse of chest and down the other arm so thoroughly that Quatre could not stop himself from blushing.

 

Things were going according to plan.

 

Flustered, Quatre laughed disarmingly. "I'm alright, Heero! They're just some little scratches. I probably got them from the roses. I made sure to trim the thorns off the ones I gave you though."

 

Prussian pinned down his marine and Quatre struggled to ward away the images of violet. "Why would you that for me?"

 

"Why... because I don't want you to get hurt..."

 

"In protecting me, you hurt yourself? Hn. We should get you bandaged up."

 

"Bandages! Heero! I was scratched by roses!"

 

"And that probably won't do your sunburn any good either. Let's go."

 

"Mou! Fine! I have some antiseptic and stuff in my room."

 

"Hn."

 

And Heero grasped Quatre firmly by the wrist and dragged him away from the garden, away from the shaded veranda, and towards his room.

 

It took relatively little self-control for Quatre to keep from smiling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Quatre remembered -- with equal amounts of bitterness, enlightenment, and helpless longing -- the very moment he had known that Duo would never love him back in the same way. They had been snuggled together in a rickety old bed, trying to stay warm in the small cabin that was their safe house. It had been two months since their separation but they had greeted each other like the comrades, fellow pilots, friends, and lovers that they were. They had even made love beside a crackling fireplace. It was after both boys had been sated (for the moment anyway) and Duo was a heavy burden sleeping in his arms that Quatre had allowed his thoughts to wander.

 

What were they to each other? He loved Duo with a mindless passion; but Duo had never said anything one way or another, beside the fact that they had slept with each other nearly every time they had met. And, running his pale fingers against chestnut hair, Quatre's hand had collided with the thick rope that made up Duo's braid.

 

And the realization had hit him like a colony impacting with the Earth.

 

Duo was not in love with him.

 

Glaring balefully down at the long braid in his hands (the only time Quatre could ever remember hating Duo's hair), Quatre's mind buzzed as his realized that Duo had not once ever let down his hair for him. Duo's hair had always remained in that fastidious braid, confined away from Quatre's wandering hands. During sex or snuggling, in the mornings or in the evenings, Duo's hair had always been braided. Quatre knew what Duo's hair meant to him; he knew that it was not some vanity or fashion statement, but rather a promise to the first person who had ever loved him.

 

And Duo had never let Quatre see him with his hair down.

 

Even after a shower, Duo would have his hair wrapped up in a towel, cloistered away from his eyes. Duo purposely kept his treasured locks out of the sight of his lover. If Duo's hair represented all the love he had ever been given, did it not mean that by keeping his hair braided, Duo was keeping his love away from Quatre? It was a massive trust... something not to be given freely and something Duo refused to share with Quatre even though he had given up his body for Quatre's use.

 

Duo was not in love with him.

 

Oh, there was affection and friendship. There was even a type of love. But it was not the passionate, all-consuming love that Quatre had for him. And the question gnawed at his mind like some disease, taunting and mocking him. Through the night the question plagued him over and over and not even the familiar weight of Duo in his arms could keep the demon at bay.

 

Who did Duo love? Who did Duo love? Who did Duo love? Who? Who? Who? If it wasn't him, then who?!

 

And the answer had come with the sun, a startling benediction upon a weary petitioner. As the events of the past, every person Duo had told him he had encountered, every jokingly told tale, every minute observation taken in by marine eyes compiled in his mind, Quatre knew.

 

Quatre knew with every fiber of his being that Duo Maxwell was in love with Heero Yuy.

 

And it was at that very moment that Quatre had first hated someone to the very depths of his soul.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Quatre sat passively as Heero tended his wounds. Hands that could kill were surprisingly gentle as they applied ointment to the scratched and imperfect surface of the smaller boy's body. There were no words between them at the moment -- Heero was silent because he was naturally reticent, Quatre was silent because he was planning and remembering.

 

He bore no ill will towards his Japanese companion. He had gotten over the shock and pain of being rejected by Duo long ago. Quatre even had to admit that Heero Yuy was a fine specimen of the human race and worth falling in love with. If he wanted, the blonde could try to think like Duo and figure out just what about the stoic teenager drew the braided boy like a moth to a flame. Was it Heero's physique and build? He was taller now, a bit under six feet, and compactly muscled. From a distance, the dark-haired boy didn't seem like much, but up close one could admire the muscles that were apparent under the thin tank tops he favored. Was it his countenance? While his mouth was almost always set into a grim line or mocking smirk, there were moments when full lips would lift into the briefest of smiles -- even more beautiful because they were rare. Angled jaw and clear skin, dark brows that shadowed eyes of the deepest blue, all topped by that unruly mop of thick dark hair... truly Heero Yuy was easy on the eyes. Was it his demeanor? Fiercely protective and carrying his own honor, if one said that Heero carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, it could be believed easily. The ex-pilot, now a Preventer, had his own sense of duty and responsibility. If he were involved in a relationship, he would take it as seriously as any mission in the past.

 

And Heero Yuy never failed a mission.

 

All this and more made Heero desirable as a mate and lover. Perhaps Quatre could have been swayed, when he was younger and more impressionable. But no, his heart belonged to Duo and Duo's belonged to Heero. So, no, Quatre did not hate Heero Yuy. The Arabian considered the Japanese youth to be a valuable friend and ally. There was friendship between them but nothing more. There could never be anything more between them, even if Quatre wished it, which he did not. Heero would belong to Duo. And Quatre would be able to bask eternally in the violet- eyed boy's joy. What a sick little love triangle, the blonde thought ruefully.

 

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave," Quatre half-whispered to himself.

 

"What was that, Quatre?" Heero asked, looking up from the filmy roll of gauze in his hands.

 

Marine eyes blinked up innocently at him. "Oh, nothing really, Heero! Are you really going to bandage me up?" Quatre dropped his gaze to examine his sun burnt and scratched arms. "You've already covered me in this stuff. It should be alright! They're just scratches after all."

 

"Hn. They could get infected."

 

"Heero, you sound like you actually care!"

 

"Hn."

 

"Well, as long as you don't say anything. I wonder what Duo would say?"

 

"Duo."

 

Quatre did not miss the inflection in Heero's voice as he repeated the American's name. "Yes. Duo. He would probably laugh himself silly that I had to get bandaged up because I tried to fight a rosebush and lost!" He fought the urge to wince as he slandered Duo, even though it was only a little and just as a farce.

 

Prussian blue caught his gaze before dropping to where practiced hands were wrapping up one arm. "Maybe. But Duo is more likely to worry himself sick over whether you were alright. He's probably going to smother you when he sees you."

 

"Do you really think so?"

 

"You're his... best friend."

 

"But... I always thought you were Duo's best friend."

 

Heero actually paused in his ministrations and frowned. "Why would you think that?"

 

"You mean, you don't know, Heero?"

 

"Know what?"

 

"How could you not know? Duo is so obvious!"

 

"Know WHAT, Quatre?"

 

Quatre didn't wince as he felt one of his bandages being pulled unnecessarily tighter. "Don't you know how Duo feels about you?"

 

Heero's breath caught in his throat and he raised startled Prussian eyes to Quatre's marine. The roll of gauze fell forgotten to the floor.

 

Second mission objective accomplished.

 

The situation is green.

 

Move to third mission objective.

 

Ryoukai.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Quatre knew what he was doing when he had set out to seduce Heero Yuy. He also knew what it would mean if he became the Japanese boy's first, and he was most definitely going to be Heero's first. Heero was so out of touch with his feelings and emotions -- Quatre blamed this on Doctor J's training -- that the notion of anyone loving him had never actually crossed his mind. While it was true that Heero would tell others to live by their emotions, he did not do the same.

 

It would be a betrayal.

 

Quatre shook his head. He didn't want to think of what he was doing as a betrayal. He was doing Duo a favor! He was going to make sure that Duo was completely happy with Heero. Wasn't that a good thing? It wasn't as if he was jealous, was he? No! He was giving Duo up because he valued the braided boy's happiness more than his own!

 

So Quatre could do this.

 

But in the back of his mind, Quatre knew what he was doing. If -- no, WHEN -- he became Heero's first, it would mean that the special bond would be formed between the two of them. Quatre was sure that Duo would have much rather been Heero's first. But the Arabian couldn't allow that. It was enough that Quatre would be giving Heero to Duo practically gift-wrapped. He didn't think he could bear it to know that Heero worshiped the ground Duo walked on the way Quatre did.

 

Duo was... IS mine! Only I can know him the way I do. Heero would never understand it! I will NOT allow Duo's love to be wasted or unappreciated! I don't care about Heero, except as a friend. He'll never love me the right way if I refuse him. He'll fall into Duo's embrace and BE HAPPY THERE.

 

But I... I am Duo's first. And Duo is mine.

 

You don't forget your first.

 

Never ever.

 

Even if you change your mind.

-- To Be Continued --