What Words Could Never Say
Part One
By: Kitty E.
Quatre lay in his bed, thinking as he often did, only this time he
was actually trying to stave off sleep. Sleep was a cherished thing
to a Gundam pilot and normally he would have be searching for a way
to shut his brain off now that he was in a soft bed, but not tonight.
Heero was coming tonight. He rolled onto his stomach and clutched the
pillow beneath him in a tighter embrace than Heero ever allowed him.
Three days if I'm lucky, he thought. Three days to hold him,
touch him, kiss him, to assure himself until they met again that
Heero was both all right, and completely his. This was the first time
he'd see him in a month and half, and he should be thankful Heero was
coming at all.
It still seemed unbelievable that he had actually voiced the
affection and attraction he felt for Heero. He never would have
dreamed that he could find the courage to say it, but it was as if
everything had come into alignment. His raw, exposed emotions,
Heero's sudden compassion, the strong but tender touches between them
had all reminded him how badly he had wanted Heero to be his. He had
thought those feelings were useless, had heard the stories from Duo
about a girl named Relena who was after Heero's heart, and noted
Duo's own tone of defeat. `There is no point in pursuing heart
break,' he had told himself a hundred times, but the feelings didn't
ever seem to waver. And so one night in a dingy hotel room, amidst
the guilt and grief of Trowa's loss at his own hands, he had said it.
In a way, he thought of it as a kind of atonement, he would try to
heal Heero's battered and broken soul to pay for the sins he had
committed against his friend. However, that reason had only been a
surface level justification, and he knew it. He wanted Heero. Who
didn't? Heero was an exciting mix of strength and vulnerability, his
gruff detachment had a way of only making people more determined to
be close to him. That, and he was absolutely gorgeous in Quatre's
opinion, with starkly powerful eyes, boyish features, and a slender,
hard body. He looked in good in anything, from a school or OZ uniform
to the ratty, old tank top he treated like a veritable security
blanket.
I'm going to take him shopping one day, and I don't care how damn
effeminate that sounds. I'm going to drag him down to the Rodeo
district, right when all the stores are busiest. He'll be wearing
that tank top just so I can see everyone turn their noses up at
Winner's street rat boy toy, then parade him out in all the best
suits to see them stare. He smiled, pleased by his little fantasy.
Not that Heero would *ever* let me do it. But then I wouldn't love
him if he did.
He shifted in the bed, again glancing at the clock and frowning.
He always pushes himself. He should be coming in tomorrow morning,
not tonight. Not just for fifteen minutes of heavy petting before one
of us passes out. He sighed deeply and allowed himself a forbidden
thought. Maybe he really does need me. Not that he'd ever let me
about it.
The night he'd semi-confessed his feelings, Heero had no such speech
for him. Indeed he didn't say a word until the next morning, but they
had slept in each other's arms that night, and every subsequent night
they were together. The week they had searched for Trowa, staying
together in that hotel room, sleeping in one bed had been a blessed
necessity. When he asked Heero to stay with him at one of his
estates, offering the chance to be alone together for the first time
since Trowa's disappearance, he had wondered where Heero would want
to sleep. He couldn't bring himself to ask, not when Heero was using
their quality time to get caught up in mission reports, and other
paperwork. So he had fretted in silence as he played his violin, and
when he retired, he had told Heero about the guest room at the end of
the hall, quietly accepting that in some ways Heero was still out of
reach.
It still made Quatre shiver to think Heero had gone to him
uninvited. He had fallen asleep, and was in the middle of a rather
confusing dream about his childhood, when Heero had come in,
apparently with every intention of sleeping in the same bed just as
they had that week in the hotel. Quatre had pretended to still sleep,
but it was awfully difficult to control one's breathing while
watching Heero undress in the corner of your eye. An irrepressible
smile had given him away, and Heero had froze as though he'd been
caught doing something wrong. But it wasn't wrong, not to Quatre, it
was everything he needed. With a self conscious laugh, Quatre had
taken Heero's hand, and they fell back into each other's arms as if
they'd never been apart.
He was glad Heero came, glad he hadn't been able to feign sleep,
because he had discovered a treasure money couldn't buy. Without
those moments before they both fell sleep, he would have slipped into
self doubt long ago, would have wondered about Heero's true feelings
night and day. It was the only time he felt that Heero and he were
together. The only time they talked about things other than the war,
a time when Quatre could gently pull the bitterness from Heero's
words as they talked of his childhood, and training. Between brief
kisses, and wandering fingers Quatre talked of his family. Though he
could tell Heero really didn't care what his sisters were up to, it
was just nice to talk about more pleasant things for a while.
This was also the only time Heero was susceptible to the physical
affection Quatre craved. They hadn't made love yet, Heero had a
frustrating habit of pulling away, or even falling asleep just as
Quatre felt he was being given a green light, but he would gladly be
forced to wait in frustration in exchange for the chance to run his
fingers through Heero's hair. He adored this time, placing light
kisses everywhere on Heero's face just to see the cutely bewildered
expression they caused, running his hands over the firm body, and his
soft cheeks.
And there was another thing shared in these moments before sleep,
something he both held dear and resented. This was the only time
Heero ever, ever returned affection. It was usually shy imitations of
what he had done a moment ago, hesitant and inexperienced but they
melted Quatre anyway, made him smile and forgive all of Heero's
faults. Thinking of them, realizing that tonight promised more of
them, he could ignore the nagging doubts of Heero's affections, of
the relationship's permanence, and just wait for Heero to come for
him again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If there aren't any more delays, it'll be another hour, Heero
thought. It seemed to be just a calculation, but it was really a
promise to his body. If he could only stay awake and alert for one
more hour he would get there in one piece. He thought about going
faster, but Quatre lived in such a high end neighborhood there were
probably security guards all around. He didn't have a pass to be in
this area, and looking as he did he doubted that saying he was
rushing to sleep with Winner's heir was going to get him anything but
laughter. Not that he would be arrested, they'd be on the pavement
before they ever got the cuffs on him, but he knew Quatre wouldn't
smile quite so brightly if he came in fresh from a fight.
He didn't know why that was important, the sincerity of Quatre's
smile, he only knew that he needed it. He felt stupid, emotional
attachments were a liability and he already had too many to feel
safe. Relena, Duo, Trowa, and even Wufei were all people he felt
something for, increasingly it became less a matter of not being able
to kill them as it was a need to protect them. Now Quatre was
challenging his priorities, slowly claiming pieces of him, day by
day, kiss by kiss, somehow becoming more important than the
biological need for sleep.
What was most frustrating was that he didn't know why. He had heard
of love, Odin Lowe had talked about girls he knew before he became an
assassin. He had a vague idea of its importance, both to a human
being and society, but he had never sat down and thought about it. He
just knew that he liked it when Quatre smiled at him without sadness,
he liked the way Quatre touched him and said his name.
After the time they'd been allotted with to search for Trowa was
over, they were forced to become strangers again, intercommunication
was dangerous, and he forced himself to cut all ties. He had wondered
if there was some way to kill the emotions he'd set free, to let him
get back to just barely caring about others, and not giving a damn
about himself, to return the state of indifference he needed as a
soldier. Nothing worked, not even separation, and he'd been helpless
to refuse Quatre's shy request to join him at his estate. He had
known he was being cold working at his computer, hardly encouraging
Quatre to touch him, to whisper words of affection in his ear, but it
was the only way he knew how to be. He listened to Quatre play, noted
the lack of any kind of prompt and realized it was Quatre's own music
played only for him. It was beautiful, and he had wanted to say that,
but he didn't know how. Quatre had gone to bed, and mentioned the
guest room as he'd left. Once the door slid shut, he stopped typing.
I thought we would� I thought he'd� Nameless desires appeared
from nowhere, and made themselves heard. He'd finished his work and
stood in the hallway for sometime. Was it down one way to a empty,
cold bed, and down the other way to Quatre, and possible rejection?
His feet carried him down his chosen path, Quatre would never know
how much those open arms meant to him.
Unless I could tell him, Heero thought, glancing at the dash. He
was fifteen miles over the speed limit, but he couldn't even force
himself to slow. No, I'll show him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quatre's eyes had drifted shut, and sleep was beginning to fog his
mind when he heard the door open ever so softly. Always trying to
sneak up on me, he thought. Perhaps it was a game Heero played, if
he could believe Heero would ever play a game that wasn't course
curriculum. He sat up, and saw Heero's eyes flicker with some
emotion, unnamable, almost undetectable. He couldn't think of
anything to say, everything seemed out of place at a moment like
this, a reunion. A half irrational desire to say `I missed you so
much, Heero,' flared up within him, but one said those things to have
them said back. So he just smiled sweetly, and watched Heero move
about the room.
Heero made a good case against the concept of god given shame,
quietly slipping out his clothes, and into the pajamas Quatre had
laid at the foot of the bed as though there wasn't a thing out place
about it, be it immoral or exciting.
"Good trip?" Quatre finally asked. It wasn't much of a question, but
after not seeing Heero for so long, he couldn't just say nothing as
Heero climbed into his bed.
Heero shrugged, "Uneventful." He lay back into the pillows, looking
as though softness and fluff made him uncomfortable. He turned his
blue stare from the ceiling to Quatre.
Quatre shifted, sliding beside him for a embrace which said what he
could not. Words like `I love you, I miss you, I need you' hurt when
said against an unresponsive surface, but silent touches to silent
touches did not. When he was sure even Heero could not have missed
his message he pulled away, and traced over Heero's face with his
eyes, searching for a change. You look like you've been through
some kind of hell Heero, but you won't tell me about it. I don't want
to know, I don't want to know how close I came to losing you. When
are you going to realize your worth, and stop fighting with such
abandon? He blinked when Heero's eyes narrowed ever so slightly,
not a look of menace but of question. He always felt this curious
drop in his stomach whenever Heero looked at him so closely.
"What is it?" Quatre asked, realizing what was wrong before he even
finished the question. Aha, Heero. You thought you were being
subtle, didn't you? You want a kiss but for some reason you think you
can't reach over and take one.
"You want � something?" he asked teasingly, moving his lips just
over Heero's. A hot, controlled breath passed over his cheek, Heero's
version of an exasperated sigh. He pressed his lips against Heero's
briefly. "Was that it?"
*Now* Heero's eyes narrowed in a menacing way, and he relented,
kissing Heero deeply. His hand slid out from under the sheets to
reposition Heero's head slightly, gently teasing Heero's mouth open.
He ended the kiss with an open mouthed sigh, feeling the usual flare
of excitement and supreme contentment, along with something
completely unexpected. It felt as though Heero was really and truly
open to him. How far will you let me go tonight, hmm? Heero, what
have you decided?
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Part Two