07-Dec-2000
Title: Fumbling Towards Ecstasy (Songfic)
Author: von (sablexo1@yahoo.com)
Archive: GW Addiction and if she chooses, Darkflame
Category: yaoi, angst
Rating: Strong R
Pairings: 3X4 , 4X3
Warnings: Lime in some scenes. Angst. AU - No guarantees that my interpretations of characters or events will agree with yours, so a general OOC warning.
Spoilers: Series, EW Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners. Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, Sarah McLachlan, Marchand, Pierre used without permission. Our stuff is ours. No money being made here. As with all our fics so far, while our goal is to stay as in character as possible, any discrepancies are our mistakes.
Feedback: Appreciated... to the list or sablexo1@yahoo.com.
Notes: Used song, but I was inspired. Enjoy!... // indicates lyrics..
All the fear has left me now
I'm not frightened anymore.
It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh.
it's my mouth that pushes out this breath
The shuttle left at five o'clock and it was four. It seemed as if every obstacle known to man stood in his way as he careened through the streets of the colony on the bike. Emotions ran through him changing and twisting just as much as the path he was taking to reach his... love? The word traveled through Trowa's mind and finally settled. "Yes, love," he said.
'How could I have been so stupid....so blind?' he admonished himself, nearly striking a surprised pedestrian. The time he'd spent in the cockpit of the Mobile Suit had honed his instincts. That kept the bike on the road and upright as he raced against the clock.
//and if I shed a tear I won't cage it.
I won't fear love
and if I feel a rage I won't deny it.
I won't fear love.//
'Face it, Winner,' the young blond man said to himself. 'You were just wrong...wrong about everything. What did you expect, anyway? He has his own demons to deal with...so do you.. Anyway, it wasn't as lonely as you were making it out to be, now was it? Think about the time before the war. It was hell then. It took Rashid's slap to wake you up to the fact that you existed at all. No happy endings... Remember. That was the pact. Too much blood on....'
"Excuse me, Mr. Winner?" the fresh faced attendant said looking up at the handsome blue-eyed young man.
Quatre blinked and looked up as he was pulled from his reverie. "Yes," he answered.
"This way," the young woman said, "Are you sure you wouldn't like an upgrade? It would be no trouble at all..
Quatre sighed, shaking his head. "No thank you," he said, "I appreciate that thought though."
The young woman smiled, feeling her face flush a little. It had been a couple of years since the war, and in that time, Quatre had grown a few inches and filled out a bit. He was reputed to be one of the handsomest men in the Galaxy according to Show Magazine. As one of the spokesmen for The Winner Company Industries, he was also voted one of the most eccentric, preferring to keep out of the limelight and carrying on ties with the group called Manguanac's.
"Here you go," the young woman said. "Take off is in fifteen minutes. Enjoy your flight."
"Thank you," Quatre said politely, then turned to stare out of the window. His thoughts returned to earlier in the afternoon as the scene replayed in his head again.
//Companion to our demons
they will dance and we will play.//
" I came to see how you were doing now that everything seems to have calmed down a bit," Quatre said, feeling suddenly awkward.
"I'm doing ok," Trowa answered as he finished his chores. He placed the feeding buckets back on the make-shift shelves, then turned back to his friend. As he did, Quatre looked up and he felt a definite tug at his heart. It was those teal colored eyes and sweet angelic face. Other feelings rose to the surface, but Trowa admonished himself to get a grip and promptly shut them down as inappropriate.
"Good," Quatre responded, looking down quickly at his sneakers. There was no denying the fact that when he looked at Trowa, he felt that tingling electricity flow through him. During the war, he dismissed it as infatuation. Goodness knows that he hadn't been subjected to many boys his own age, let alone one that was a Gundam pilot. And though they were all very different, it was Trowa who seemed to be the most 'right' feeling. Now, what had amazed Quatre was that the feeling had grown and not subsided after all that had happened.
Just tell him...Tell him and get it over with, he thought. And if you lose this battle...well, it certainly won't be the first one you've lost, though it will probably hurt the most.
Looking up, Quatre smiled and called upon that 'special' consciousness to give him a hand. "Trowa," he said, as his hand rose unconsciously to his heart.
//With chairs candles and clothes
making darkness in the day.
It will be easy to look in or out
upstream or down
without a thought//
"I didn't come here just to ask you how you felt. I'm sure you understand that," he said, standing up from the hay bale he was sitting on. Walking over to Trowa, Quatre looked up into the emerald green eyes, then down to Trowa's chest. "I came to tell you something very specific...something that's in my heart."
//and if I shed a tear I won't cage it.
I won't fear love
and if I feel a rage I won't deny it.
I won't fear love.//
"First of all, I've missed you," he said, feeling a lump in his throat. A picture flashed in his head. Trowa in a damaged mobile suit... His own finger on the trigger. Feelings of rage and despair.. "I..I came to say...that.. I love you, Trowa. That's why I came."
Another picture. Trowa in pain...Confused and bewildered...Catherine angry, hurt, accusing him of his crimes against the green-eyed boy.
//Peace in the struggle to find peace.
Comfort on the way to comfort//
Trowa frowned slightly, watching the play of emotions on his friend's face. His pain was obvious, but there was something else in Quatre's expression that both called to him and frightened him at the same time. He placed a hand on Quatre's shoulder, then inhaled sharply as his body reacted when the blond pilot's face tilted up to meet his. The blue-green eyes turned full force on him, looking past his guard and into his soul. Is this my fear? Trowa pondered, then wondered why the regard didn't make him nervous at all...only calm.
He nodded, not knowing why. "It's alright, Quatre," he said softly, giving Quatre a brief, but solid hug.
//and if I shed a tear I won't cage it.
I won't fear love//
Quatre shivered under the touch. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, scenting the green-eyed pilot's aroma and committing it to memory. Allah, I am both damned and blessed, he thought quietly as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Within the embrace, Quatre felt an answering peace, but there was as much conflict in the other as in himself and he wondered if those barriers could ever be breached.
Trowa moved back, looking down at Quatre for a long moment. He searched for words to accompany the feelings. It was difficult, because the feeling didn't have words and his mind fumbled for a way to express what he understood.
"It's ok, Quatre," he said, thinking that he had a handle on it. "It's the loneliness. Sometimes I think only a Gundam pilot can understand what a Gundam pilot goes through."
"Huh?" Quatre replied, looking up in confusion. He took a step back as confusion gave way to fear, then hurt. "What does being a Gundam pilot have to do with me making a special trip here to tell you that I love you?" he asked.
Trowa blinked. "But you just said you missed me," he replied, feeling that awareness of a moment ago, slip away completely. That's wrong, he thought, frustrated.
Quatre took another step back, feeling hurt replaced by quicksilver anger.
//and if I feel a rage I won't deny it//
"Yeah, I know I said I missed you, but I said I love you too, Trowa! " he shot back. Then he took a step forward, feeling the emotions coalesce.
//I won't fear love.//
" I love you," Quatre said again. "Like, I want to be with you, in your presence, in your life. I want to hang around you, share thoughts...maybe even hold you, sometimes as well."
There you did it, Quatre thought. You placed a charge on whatever hope there was and blew it to the great beyond. You pushed and he's feeling cornered.
Trowa looked at his friend with some surprise. "But that's not possible," were the first words from his mouth and he knew they were all wrong.
Done deal, Quatre thought. He opened his mouth and took a deep breath. Learned manners kicked in and he glanced at his watch, then nodded.
"Ok, don't worry about it, Trowa," he said, in an attempt to cover the sudden constriction in his chest. "I... understand. I have to catch a shuttle for Earth." Quatre looked up, feeling tears well in his eyes. He turned away quickly, feeling the need to flee as Trowa's words revolved around in his head.
Trowa's hands came up as though they had the power to stop Quatre's actions. "Quatre..." he said, "I'm... sorry." He shook his head... Wrong words again. Damnit!
Quatre took two steps towards the opening in the tent, then turned around. He looked up, forcing himself to look at Trowa's face. Whatever he felt a moment ago, dwindled into nothing as he felt a wash of calm move over his senses.
"It's ok, Trowa...really," he said a bit calmer. "The last thing I want is for you to be sorry. Why would I? The real truth is that I came here with expectations... and that wasn't right. I can tell that... that you might not understand me, right now. That's ok, too. Just please, don't hate me, Trowa. Given what I did to you, I know that even that request might be too much to ask."
Trowa crossed the distance between them in three strides. He wrapped his arms around Quatre, holding him tightly against his chest. "No it's not," he said firmly, feeling the silken blond hair brush his cheek. "And I don't hate you at all. I love you too, Quatre. The words are coming out all wrong. Just know, I never will ever hate you. What we went through...it was a part of the whole picture. I wouldn't have ever known or come to understand myself and my actions without you and the mercy and kindness you showed me."
Quatre closed his eyes, sinking into the feeling of Trowa's arms around him. He understood that what he felt went beyond camaraderie, beyond brotherhood, and even beyond romance. What he felt and what he got from Trowa on an unconscious level went soul deep. And in that place was peace.
He leaned his head against Trowa's chest, stealing touch. "I showed you nothing that you didn't have inside already," Quatre said, with a little smile. He could hear Trowa's strong heartbeat and tried to commit it memory.
"I don't know about that," Trowa said, inhaling the sweet scent of Quatre's flaxen hair. "What I do know is that I'm glad you came here. I'm glad you exist."
Quatre nodded a little as his soul spoke to him. I can live with that, it said. Quatre sighed. Reluctantly, he moved back. "I'm sorry for getting upset with you, Trowa. I shouted at you because I didn't understand," he said, then reached a hand up and touched Trowa's cheek.
"I'm here for you whenever you need me. You have my codes. Use them. I'll give you a call when I get to Earth. If you have time, maybe we can meet and talk," he added.
Trowa felt Quatre move away and wondered why he felt suddenly bereft.
"Ok," he said. "I would like that a lot."
Quatre smiled again as his eyes moved over Trowa's face. "Take care and be well, Trowa Barton. May Allah smile down on you," he said and then leaned up and kissed Trowa's lips. The movement seemed as natural as breathing.
Trowa's eyes widened slightly, as he felt the soft lips on his. Then, he closed his eyes in quiet acceptance. In moments, it was over and he watched Quatre move to the tent opening.
"I'll call soon," Quatre said, then moved outside and stepped into the waiting car.
It took Trowa moment or two to realize that he had moved at all. Then, he dashed out of the tent in time to see the dark car move towards the street.
"Hn," he remarked as questions rose and spilled into his mind.
On the shuttle, Quatre looked down at his watch. It was almost time to depart.
Well, perhaps it wasn't all bad, he thought and settled back into his seat.
Meanwhile,
Trowa saw the entrance to the port and aimed the motorbike for the small space between the other vehicles. He calculated that the standard method of going through the passenger lobby wouldn't work. No time. Instead, he sped through the barriers and headed for the field.
Earlier...
"Hey, wasn't that Quatre?" Catherine asked, walking up to stand beside Trowa.
"Hmm? Yeah," Trowa replied watching as the car disappeared from view. "He came to see me."
Catherine smiled, looking at him. "That was very nice," she said. "Too bad I missed him. I wanted to give him a hug. I yelled at him the last time we met and I'm so sorry for that."
Trowa looked over at her. "Cathy?" he said.
"Yes, Trowa."
"I've got something on my mind. Think you could listen and maybe give me some advice?" he asked.
Catherine's eyebrows rose in surprise. She smiled. "Well, now that's another first. You asking my advice and all. How can I pass up the opportunity? What's on your mind?"
An hour later, Catherine took a deep breath. Unable to keep the grin from her face, she looked at Trowa directly. "So you miss him, too. You feel peaceful when you're around him and he told you he loved you. That right?"
Trowa considered and then nodded.
"That's easy. You love him and he loves you," she said.
Trowa frowned slightly. "That's a given. It's a known, Cathy. This is something else," he said, slightly perturbed.
Catherine shrugged, watching the green-eyed boy carefully. "Then it's puppy love. He's more infatuated with you and you care for him. The kissing thing...well, that's a little disturbing, but these things happen."
The frown on Trowa's face deepened. "It wasn't like that," he said, tightly. "It wasn't... sordid, Cathy."
"Hey, I didn't say sordid... Maybe a little distasteful, but you can't say you enjoyed it, right? I mean you're guys, right? Everyone knows guys don't do that sort of thing.."
Trowa's frown deepened "But.. it's not.. right," he said, looking down. This wasn't right either. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought.
Catherine sighed and walked over tilting Trowa's face up. The look in her eyes was one of compassion. "I'm sorry Trowa. I was kinda needling you there. The answer, I think is that you both have something very special and precious. It's the most confusing thing there is because it's different for different people. You're a brave and honorable man Trowa and I think you're in love with Quatre...and that's whatever you decide it is. Umm, he didn't want you to do a death pact thing or something? You know, like the dying with honor thing like that other time?"
"No!" Trowa said, trying to sort everything out.
Catherine went to her bag and pulled out a card. "Well that's a big relief," she said, reaching into her pocket and handing Trowa a card and some keys. She placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension. "Then my advice is that you take this credit chip. You're gonna need some currency. The keys are to the bike. With luck you can make it to the port before he leaves, little brother," she said, then risked a kiss on the cheek. "You two need to talk. Call me and let me know you're ok, huh?"
Trowa took the things without thinking.
Catherine sighed and then said, "Whatever happens, don't fear this. Fight for it because you've earned it, Trowa," Catherine said, looking into his eyes deeply. Then she roller her eyes. "What am I saying? You were a Gundam pilot after all, weren't you."
"Hn?" Trowa said, feeling his emotions moving so rapidly he felt he had to keep up.
"Go!" Catherine said, stepping back and gently pushing him in the direction of the bike.
//I won't fear love.//
Suddenly, Trowa smiled. He hugged Catherine hard. "I love you sis," he said, "I think I understand this."
The bored guard was suddenly on his feet as he saw the motorbike break through the barrier. "Hey!" he called out. "You can't go through there!"
He reached for his weapon, only to bring up a folded magazine in his hand, instead.
"Damnit!" he shouted, then noticed that the bike was nowhere in sight. "Ah, well. I'll call. They can handle it inside."
Quatre raised his head as his quiet reverie was broken. "This isn't right, either," he said, softly. Blinking, he stood up. Trowa! he thought, moving quickly down the aisle.
The attendant grabbed his arm as he moved past.
"Mr. Winner, no! We're about to take off. Everyone needs to strap in," she said, concerned.
"I've got to get off!" he said, reclaiming his arm.
"But you don't understand!" she said, dashing behind him as the countdown began.
Reaching the hatch, Quatre ignored the pleas of several of the attendants who had gathered to stop him. He activated the release and turned his head quickly as the cabin depressurized suddenly.
"Countdown aborted," the computer calmly announced.
Several voices were raised in protest all around him, but Quatre's attention was several feet below the launch pad. He smiled as he saw Trowa looking back up at him.
"Have a good flight," he called over his shoulder... then jumped.
Below, Trowa held the bike steadily as he surveyed the launch pad. A general alarm had been raised and he caught sight of several guards running towards him. He then felt the sudden concussion of a large object landing on the bike behind him, then another concussion as the same body settled on the bike. Twisting around briefly, he smiled down at Quatre.
"Just like the old days, eh?" Quatre called out over the din of the machine.
"Hold on!" Trowa called back, revving the bike. As soon as he felt arms around his waist, he aimed the bike out of the port facility.
//I won't fear love...//
Owari
von
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