Author: Chauni

Website: www.oocities.org/asukalangley2nd/

Warnings: Angst, Language, Yaoi

Pairings: 1x2, 1x3, 3x4, 5+2

Disclaimer: I don’t own GW. Made not one dime off this, so no suing please.

In Wake of Passion

I don’t know how I wound up here, staring into the one visible glittering emerald orb of Trowa as he gazed at me across the tangled sheets and rapidly discarded clothes, but in hindsight, I don’t really care.

It’s been a year since the death of our lovers and friends, leaving us to build off one another like foundation. I have found reservoirs of strength within Trowa that are endless and deep, and within me, I do believe he has found a certain explanation for the way things have come to be, and the justification in continuing to live in the wake of Quatre.

Our wounds are not yet healed, and to tell you the truth, I don’t think they ever will be. Each one of those people were pieces of ourselves, more precious than any arm or leg. We have found the courage to mourn and move on, riding along the world as it, too, moved on.

The war has ended; what a relief for some. I should be happy; we won, didn’t we? But I can’t help and feel obsolete, an old outdated weapon in a new pacifist world. I am a broken, nameless toy, discarded within the masses of humanity, serving no true purpose as I wander around aimlessly.

And through it all, I had Trowa, that green-eyed elf with a peaceful face and tall lean body that could do things even double-jointed people couldn’t do. He moved with the skill of a lion and the speed of a viper. He invited me, in an utterly awkward manner, to live with him, since I had nowhere else to go, and for the convenience of my situation, I agreed.

However, I had not expected to travel all over the world with him. He could never stay in one place too long, and so we constantly moved, our lives spanning the globe. I didn’t mind it one bit; it made me feel as if I was doing something, as if my life had not stopped when the war did. I got to see the one thing I had fought so hard for, and it provided me with justification for all the lives I have taken...and lost.

And within that time, I fell in love with Trowa.

God, I feel so strange saying that, and in an odd way, guilty. I shouldn’t have any feelings left in this empty shell; it took all my strength to fall in love with Duo, and with his death, the rest of me should have perished as well. I was not meant to have such humane feelings in the first place, but something about Duo brought out the best in me. He made me human again, I suppose, and not just some expendable soldier caught up in a relentless wave of a cruel war. After Duo, I never thought love would exist again, at least not for me. It had been hard enough to accept it the first time, damnit.

It’s so weird to feel again, that warm pleasantness beginning in the deep recesses of your chest and spreading out like shadowy tendrils throughout your entire body, until you are completely encased with fire. I don’t want it, not after my koi.

But there is something within the stoic clown that forces me to experience things that I don’t want to. His inner well of power is so captivating and all I can think of now when I’m around him is that I want to drown in his emerald eyes. His face is beauty; not an example of beauty or the manifestation of beauty, but beauty itself. The way he moves, as if gravity has no effect on him, is intoxicating, just as the sweet musk that wafts off him makes me drunk.

I’m surprised Trowa has even opened up to me as much as he has. After the death of Quatre and how hard he took it, I figured he would never want to reveal any of himself again. I suppose it might have to do with the time we spent together when he helped me recover after my self-destruction, or the battles that we have waged and won with one another, that allowed him to peel back any walls he may have built. It took awhile, but that’s all right; I’ve always had patience.

And so the day came when we kissed. For the first time since Duo walked out that door on his final mission, I felt alive, invigorated. We had been sitting outside on a perfect spring day, so perfect in fact that it resembled the kind you could see in magazines that look like the Garden of Eden in the height of its beauty. We were currently residing in Northern Europe, and even though it was still early in the time of year, it was unseasonably warm. Gathering two mugs of steaming coffee, we had made our way out into the garden of our current backyard.

The garden was Trowa’s hobby. Lush and green, with white rose bushes, long-stemmed pink tulips, maroon snapdragons, and brilliant yellow mums, the small area was lit up like Christmas lights under the blinding sun of that day. The wind was soft and comforting, hugging us both as we sat on a small azure marble bench that rested in the center of the vibrant garden.

I turned to him, some phrase dancing on my lips. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, something more or less along the lines of, “So, where do you want to move to next?” or something as equally stupid. I guess I just wanted to hear something; how odd considering who each of us are. However, when I turned to him, I saw his one unhidden eye staring at me, taking in the shadows of my cheeks, the strong line of my jaw, and fullness of my dried lips, the infinite depth within my cerulean eyes. And everything he did to me, I did to him.

It was like one of those foolish romantic movies, the music swelling in the background as the couple leans slowly in closer. Trowa’s hand rested softly against my cheek, sending shivers down my spine. My breath refused to pour out at all, lodging itself stubbornly in my throat and my eyes closed as our lips set fire to one another.

His arms snaked around my body, pulling me against his slowly yielding frame. I leaned against him as I felt slightly dizzy, and even from where I was, I could feel how fast his heart beat, matching the insane pace my own made. My lips grew swollen against the hard onslaught of his kiss and no place within my mouth went unexplored by his probing tongue.

And every nerve within my body lit up like a mobile suit explosion, and I wanted nothing more than for him to drag me into our home and take me.

Instead of fulfilling my fantasies, he quickly pulled away from me, his hands slightly trembling. His face had paled in the beaming sunlight and the spark in his emerald eye had been promptly snuffed out. He rose to his shaking feet and began to walk away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered over his shoulder, not meeting my eyes.

I jumped up and ran in front of him, blocking his path of escape. My face was emotionless, my eyes intense, and my body was still burning with the heat of that kiss. I waited for him to do one of his customary flashy flips to get around me, but he just looked down at me, confused. I guess he thought I would just let him walk away, and perhaps under any other circumstances, I would have.

“It’s Quatre, isn’t it?” I asked, already knowing the truth.

He answered by not answering, his eyes flinching at the sound of the boy’s name.

Perhaps I sounded cruel after this; I think I do. Now, don’t get me wrong; everything that Trowa felt, I experienced as well. Keep in mind, I lost someone I loved too in that horrible battle. However, I thoroughly believe that Duo would not want me to live alone for the rest of my life. I refuse to act dead, and I refuse to die.

Now, I just had to get Trowa to see the same thing.

“You feel guilt for what’s happened,” I said, my voice stern like I was giving out orders. I guess the soldier in me will never leave, even if the war is over. “Well, you shouldn’t.”

He folded his arms across his lean chest, looking at me skeptically. “Why is that?”

“Do you actually think that you are doing Quatre’s memory any justice by not accepting the things that come to you?” I replied.

I watched his lips, still swollen from our encounter. He passively stared at me, and I briefly wondered what he was thinking.

“Do you think he would want you to live alone forever?” I relentlessly barraged, words growing with anger. “I know that Quatre wouldn’t. He would want you to follow your emotions and to be happy, not regretting what could have been for the remainder of your life.” I leaned in, my lips within inches of his own. “He would want you to be true to yourself.”

He stepped past me and walked into the house, leaving me looking like a complete idiot. I stomped over to the garage and drove my fist into it, growling curses under my breath the entire time. My fist split the wood, sending splinters diving under my flesh.

However, much to my surprise, he poked his head out the door, his hair swaying in the breeze and giving me little glimpses of both of his sparkling eyes.

“Well, aren’t you coming in, love?” he asked.

I looked at him for a moment, confusion crossing my features like a monsoon. Careful to conceal my happiness, I walked to the back door and followed him to the bedroom.

And so now we have become whole, our strengths feeding each other like communion. I think this is the beginning of something wonderful, but it’s too early to tell. However, that day, we each gave a part to one another, and in doing so, we became one. I sound like a fool, I know. It’s weird to think of the robot known as Heero Yuy as having feelings, but it’s true, I do.

And I love Trowa. It’s been weeks now, and I love him. He is grace combined with intensity. He is something to be admired.

So we lie in bed, among scattered sheets and abandoned clothes, and smile in the embrace of the other. I thought I had things finally figured out and I thought both of us could finally move on.

And so, of course, on that notion, someone pounded on our front door. I muttered my infamous phrase under my breath, “Omae o korosu”, hopped to my feet and grabbed a robe that hung from a nearby hook. I ran to the door, and swung it open, my eyes shooting daggers at whoever it was that could possibly be disturbing me at a time like this.

“Hi, honey! I’m home!”

I couldn’t move; nothing within me made the slightest stir, not even my heart. There he was, Duo Maxwell, beautiful glimmering violet eyes, full rambling smirking lips, long vain braid of shimmering chestnut brought over one black clad shoulder. His face was broken out into a grin that defied all laws of science by the sheer size of it. He was picturesque, an angel.

“But,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You’re dead.”

His face fell into an expression of comical contemplation as he pinched his round cheek and pulled the flesh away a little. “Hm. That’s funny ‘cause I don’t feel dead.”

At that point, at a loss for anything else to do, I leaned forward and punched him, square in the jaw. He stumbled backwards, face contorted in pain and glaring at me through tangled bangs. He rubbed his jaw while it quickly became a bright shade of violet.

“Hey! What did ya do that for?” he yelled at me.

“You are alive,” I hissed.

“I told you I was, didn’t I?” he shouted. “God, you didn’t have to hit me, you know! And here I thought you’d be happy to see me!”

I didn’t know how to act. Laugh if you want, but I was honestly floored. My mouth hung open, my eyes a war of confusion and happiness, but I didn’t know what to do. Thank God, Duo was always the impulsive one.

He wrapped his arms around me, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, kissing it softly.

“I’ve waited so long for this day,” his whispered, the hot breath tickling my ear.

My arms snaked around him and I felt something uncharacteristic grab hold of my heart. I drove my face into the hair, smelling the familiar flowery fragrance, and kissed the crown of his head. I had dreamed of this day for so long, an end to the nightmare I had been living, and so now it came to pass. My arms tightened in reassurance and fear, and he kissed my pulse once more.

The soft footsteps that sounded behind me brought me back to my reality, and the heavy stare that bore into my back only fueled the realism further. I dislodged myself from Duo, and looked evenly at Trowa.

His lips worked for a moment, and my heart sank. I looked into his confused eyes, his hair slightly mussed still from our romp earlier. I could tell he had picked up the first thing he could find, a pair of tight khaki’s, and threw them on. Some dark part of my mind that I try not to encourage wondered if he had thrown any underwear on as well.

“Trowa.”

At first, I thought I was the one who said it, but I knew my voice was a lot more nasally than the delicate soft sound that had drifted into the room. Trowa’s head snapped up and towards the word, a response already flying past his eager lips.

“Quatre,” he whispered, his feet already tearing him to the doorway. “Oh, God, Quatre! I thought-”

It was almost comical to see Quatre taking hold of Trowa and calming him in his arms, being as it was so often the reverse. Quatre hadn’t changed at all this past year, other than growing at least two inches taller. His face still possessed that cherub innocent look and his hair was still a shimmering pale gold that dangled playfully into his ocean eyes.

And I was jealous.

I distantly felt the secure arm of Duo draw itself around my waist, but I paid no attention. It was them I stared at, entwined within embraces, lips seeking out each other’s like blind men. Their passion drove me mad, but I wore my mask well.

“So, did you miss me?”

The question forced my eyes to Duo, who stood beside me lopsidedly grinning. I hit him on the back of his head, glaring. “Of course I did! What a stupid question to ask!”

“You won’t believe how hard it is to find you two,” growled another familiar voice from the doorway.

I looked up and over, a rare smile gracing my lips. So, the five pilots were reunited. Wufei nodded to me, attempting to keep his cool demeanor intact, but I saw through it, straight to his core that was currently doing back-flips with delight. His obsidian eyes were sparkling as he hefted in two suitcases and unceremoniously dropped them in the center of our living room.

Together, all of us. The five inseparable lords of war. Nothing could ever take us down. Nothing, except a year apart caused by death and the healing process that cured Trowa and I.

The End