29-Feb-2000
Standard Gundam Wing fan fic disclaimers apply. C&C welcomed. Subject matter relates to M/M relationships. If that freaks you out, go away.
"Why?"
The single word dangled - unanswered - like an explosion just waiting to happen.
The single word, spoken in Quatre's voice - calm, yet unrelenting... demanding an answer.
I came to comfort you, so... Why. The. Hell. Did. I. Find. You. In. Duo's. Arms!?
Trowa returned the gaze unflinchingly, making no attempt to explain himself. There was nothing he could say anyway. He wondered vaguely how Duo was faring in trying to explain the unjustifiable to Heero.
'My fault,' he realized. 'One mistake after another. I destroyed the weapons base and killed the hostages there. I took advantage of Duo's concern and accepted his typically insane offer of physical solace. I've upset Heero and hurt Quatre.
'My fault.
'Always. My. Fault.
'Are you just going to stand there and stare at me so silently and penetratingly with your huge blue eyes? Do it, Quatre. I know I hurt you. I don't deserve the love of a beautiful, flawless creature like you. Take it back... by force... because I wouldn't otherwise let it go.'
'Why won't you talk to me, Trowa.
'I will not hurt you, though the expression in your eyes demands it. You want me to judge you and condemn you. It *won't* happen, Trowa,' the deceptively delicate blond pilot stared his lover down. 'Because you *don't* deserve it. You punish yourself enough as it is,' Quatre mused sadly. 'What more do I need to do to prove that love does not necessary require a price of the one who is loved?'
But why did it have to be Duo? Damn... Quatre would not have considered himself particularly insecure, but the power of Duo's personality and the sheer purity of his affections had been enough to sway even Heero Yuy. Why not anyone else... Why not Trowa?
Yet even so, Quatre couldn't bring himself to be completely angry with Duo. He did not doubt for a second that the braided pilot was completely in love with Heero. Hence, his... encounter (such a bloodless, passionless word to describe the process, Quatre thought with some disgust) with Trowa must have been for another reason entirely, some reason that probably seemed logical and justifiable to Maxwell.
However, Duo's train of supposedly *logical* thought processes occasionally failed upon close inspection, and Quatre was pretty certain this was one of those times. 'I think I'm going to hit him,' he tried not to grit his teeth. 'Not too hard, he is a friend of course... '
Coming to some kind of inner decision, Quatre stepped lightly to the bed, then leaning down placed a gentle kiss against Trowa's forehead. "We'll talk when you're ready," he said simply, with the inhuman patience that no one else possessed. "Remember I love you."
Then he left, as silently and undramatically as he had entered.
He, Wufei decided with a barely suppressed growl of disgust, was surrounded by idiots. Something was very, very obviously wrong and clearly, no one wanted to talk about it.
Duo was chattering incessantly as usual, but his smile was just a little too wide, the glitter in his eyes just a little too bright, and he was just a little too deliberately *not* looking at Heero. Quatre was quieter than usual, but otherwise seemed placidly calm and good-natured. Normal. At least more so than the others.
Heero and Trowa sat in their usual impassive silence. However, they were communicating with *perfect* clarity. Heero's cold glare promised death through dismemberment. Trowa however, did not seem fazed in the slightest by the promise of spending the rest of his life in several pieces. Now, what could have... there wasn't much that could get a rise out of Heero... except Duo of course.
Duo?! Wufei glanced over to the braided pilot and saw the look of deliberately vapid innocence in the violet eyes flared to dazzling pain for just the briefest moment, for it vanished back into the indigo depths and Duo was once again the irritatingly cheerful monster they all knew.
What the hell was going on? 'Maybe I don't want to know... Idiots, all of them... ' Sometimes he wondered if they kept tensions high just for their own entertainment? And risking their lives out there every day *wasn't* entertainment enough?
Dinner passed awkwardly, but without bloodshed. Things started falling apart after dinner, starting with the sound of shattering glass in the kitchen. Wufei was up like a shot from his chair and at the kitchen door in two moments. The Chinese man blinked... stared incredulously at Quatre who was standing, his small hands curled into fists, over Duo Maxwell as the braided pilot slowly picked himself up from the ground, carefully avoiding the fragments of glass sprayed about the kitchen floor.
Duo rubbed at his aching jaw thoughtfully, running his tongue gingerly along the soft, smooth inside of his cheek, and grimaced slightly at the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Damn, Quatre had a mean right-hook.
"You get only one free shot," he warned Quatre, the slightly dangerous glitter in the violet eyes belying the joking, teasing tone.
"It was all I needed to get it out of my system," Quatre replied with his usual, unflappable calm. "We can take care of this without observers, thank you," he told the others calmly, dismissively. Wufei blinked. Trowa stared. Heero glared. Then the three of them turned and walked away, leaving Duo and Quatre to their privacy in the glass strewn kitchen.
"Start talking, Duo Maxwell," Quatre ordered, a hard edge creeping into the lovely, smooth voice. "And make it good. I want to know what the hell you were doing in bed with the man I love."
End Part 3
(:./danyale/tangled3)
