This is my most recent fic I've written, by request of a friend on the Gundam Wing Mailing List.?
Shadows.
Pain.//
Metal Walls.
Pain.
'Scream.'
"..."
'Scream.'
"..."
'Scream, or we'll make it hurt even more'
"..."
'Fine.'
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Quatre woke in a cold sweat, with the fading echoes of a soul-searing scream in his mind.
The Uuchuu no Kanyro had sometimes shown him startling insights into other people, but never anything like ~that~. Such pain...
He had to help.
Quatre quietly pulled on a soft robe, slippers, and opened the door as softly as he could. The clock on the wall had read 13:05, and he didn't want to wake anyone, considering how precious a good night's sleep could be in wartime.
Of course, it wasn't exactly wartime, was it? No missions had come in the past week, and OZ hadn't been able to pinpoint the safehouses yet. Even Relena had yet to make an appearance, which was truly a remarkable thing.
Quatre moved without making a sound, until he reached a room 2 doors down from his own.
"Trowa?"
"..."
"I know you're awake. Could I talk with you, please?"
"..."
"Please, let me in." A mix of pleading and authority entered Quatre's voice, which he instantly regretted. While this was his home, he didn't wish to give orders to anyone.
Especially you
The door opened slightly, and Quatre slipped in and shut it as quietly as he could.
"I'm sorry I talked to you like..."
Words fell away from his mouth when he saw the shape Trowa was in. Sweat sheened his forehead, his hair was askew, and his skin was pale underneath his slight tan.
But his eyes were the worst part. Clouded with pain, and fear, and unshed tears. Quatre wanted to start crying just from looking into them.
"I could feel your nightmare."
Simple, heartfelt, and out in the open. But why did it feel like he'd done something terrible by unwittingly hearing Trowa's Subconcious?
"You never told any of us about your past. I can tell it hurts you, though. I want to help."
Was that hope flashing through his eyes?
Quatre stepped forward, tentatively, as if he expected Trowa to bolt.
Another step.
Another.
"Could we sit down on the bed? This is a bit awkward."
"Sure."
Quatre let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when Trowa finally spoke. This was like trying to dance on knives, while juggling an intricate crystal. A misstep could kill them both inside.
They moved to the bed, and Quatre was very careful not to touch Trowa just yet. Trowa had always been a bit skittish about physical contact, and he now knew why.
"Who were they?"
"Not they. Him."
"Him, then..."
"My CO."
"Your commanding officer? Tortured you? Where?"
"It was...awhile ago. It was how he ensured discipline. And entertained occasional guests."
"Trowa..."
Gently, hesitantly, Quatre took Trowa's hand, held it, and let Trowa feel the tears that were beginning to run down his face.
"I'll cry for you, if you'll let me."
"Quatre..."
Both young men looked at the tears beginning to streak their faces, and after a moment, did the last thing either of them expected.
Embraced each other fiercely.
Quatre felt uncounted years of tears soaking into the shoulder of his dressing gown, and Trowa's ragged breathing felt like a drumbeat on his chest.
"It's okay...It'll be okay...I'm here...I'll always be here."
And I'll never let anyone hurt you, ever again.
Trowa didn't respond vocally, but the way he gripped Quatre just a little tighter, and put his head onto Quatre's shoulder was all the reply Quatre really needed.
Trowa stopped crying after about five minutes, and simply let Quatre hold him. Neither of them needed to speak, in that moment. It was a moment of perfect security and intimacy that rivaled the most passionate lovemaking in intensity.
"Quatre."
"Yes?"
"I want you to see..."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Quatre slowly helped Trowa out of his pajama top, and steeled himself as Trowa turned around. However, he still hissed in pain when he saw the scars that laced Trowa's back like an embroidery.
Some were thin and faint, so fine that they could be overlooked if one wasn't looking for them. Others were wide and dark, and looked like horrid rents in Trowa's smooth flesh.
Somehow, Quatre knew that the more delicate looking ones had been the most painfully inflicted.
"Trowa..."
Hesitently, Quatre reached out a shaking hand to touch the abused flesh. When he first touched them, he acted as if he feared an electric shock, but after that, he simply tried to gently examine them, and to understand what had happened to his love.
Finally, he knew what he had to do.
"Trowa, lie down."
"..."
"I promise. I won't hurt you."
Trowa slowly complied, half expecting Quatre to ask him to do something else once he streched himself out. Suddenly, he felt a gentle weight on his back and a slight wetness.
Quatre was kissing each scar, crying as he did so, showing Trowa that it didn't matter, and that he'd love him no matter what. And the tears were for his pain, and forgiveness.
Trowa felt his eyes tearing up again, and for once, he let the tears fall instead of forcing them away, and for the first time in years, the twisted scar tissue seemed to disappear.
"Were you hurt anywhere else?"
"No. He always threated to... to do other things. But he didn't get around to it before he was killed in a battle..."
"He threatened to rape you, didn't he?" The pain and concern in Quatre's voice made Trowa want to cry again, but he simply nodded.
"Oh, Trowa... my Trowa... you suffered so much..."
Trowa could feel more tears, hot and salty, trickle onto his back as Quatre embraced him from behind.
"Would you... let me show you that... it doesn't have to be a punishment?"
Trowa tensed for a second in Quatre's embrace, and then relaxed again, as he realized with perfect clarity that Quatre would never, ever hurt him. And that perhaps the intimacy he'd so feared would be the most wonderful thing in his life, if he allowed it.
"Yes... please... just..." Trowa couldn't quite express what he was feeling, but it didn't matter. Quatre could feel exactly what he meant.
"I will. I'll be right back."
This time, the kiss Quatre left on the back of Trowa's neck was a promise.
Quatre stepped outside softly, then tiptoed to where a Maguanac was sitting on guard.
"Master?"
"Abdullah, could you get me the crate I ordered for Mister Yuy and Mister Maxwell?"
"At once."
The Maguanac returned after a moment with a crate of Lubricant. Quatre thanked him, then placed the Crate outside Duo and Heero's room after removing a tube. From the sounds of things in there, however, it seemed that they had brought their own supply.Quatre smiled and returned to Trowa's room.
Trowa half turned around on the bed when he heard the door shut again, and his eyes widened slightly when he realized that Quatre had let his dressing gown fall to the floor, and had nothing on underneath.
"You're... beautiful..."
Quatre blushed, and simply answered by tenderly kissing Trowa. At first, Trowa was a bit stiff and nervous, but after a moment he simply succumbed to his lover's protection and began to return the kiss, as their tounges danced in each other's mouths.
Quatre tasted remarkably like strawberry ice cream to Trowa, which surprised him, but he simply put it down to the universe approving of their relationship.
After what seemed like an entire day, Quatre gently broke the kiss, and began to kiss his way down Trowa's chest, tenderly preparing Trowa for what lay ahead.
When he reached Trowa's boxers, he looked up into Trowa's eyes with a look of utter love and innocence.
"You're sure this is okay? I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with."
"...please. Yes."
Quatre smiled and kissed Trowa's belly button, tickling him and actually making him giggle.
"Thank you..."
Quatre slowly slid the boxers down, kissing Trowa's waist, legs, and thighs. He then kissed Trowa's toes and ankles, and worked his way back up until he began to lick and nip at Trowa's encreasingly engorged member, smiling as Trowa sighed with increasing pleasure.
Then gently and tenderly, Quatre turned Trowa over, gently kissing his exposed buttocks as he pulled out the tube of lubricant.
"I'm just going to start with a finger. I don't want you to get hurt doing this, so you'll need to strech a little."
"I love you."
"I love you too, Trowa."
Trowa gasped as Quatre began his explorations. The lubricant was slightly cold, and his body wrapped around the finger as it began to probe him. It was slightly painful, but the waves of slow pleasure that accompanied it far outweighed the discomfort, and he felt a twinge of regret as it slowly left his body.
"Now?"
A wish. A statement more than a question.
"Now."
Quatre slowly entered Trowa, letting himself get used to the strange, but pleasurable sensations. Then, he began to slowly move his length in and out of Trowa's body, finally reaching a smooth, even rythym. Both men began to moan softly, and Quatre wrapped his hand gently along Trowa's manhood and began to slowly move up and down it's length as Trowa began to thrust his hips backward to meet each stroke.
Finally, both men cried out in a simultaneous ecstacy and slowly collapsed onto the bed, awash in sensation.
Quatre gently rolled himself off of Trowa, and scooted up on the bed, until they could rest in each others arms, and Trowa gently laid his head on his breast, as Quatre kissed away his tears of release and joy.
Quatre felt sleep overtaking him again, and he softly whispered into Trowa's ear.
"I love you..."
His eyes closed before he could see the smile that slowly crept across Trowa's sleeping face.
The End
(:./bza/darkness)
