For Dead Girl Snoozing and Terra Rain.
You guys rule. I had come to doubt there were more 3x2 fans out there.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Somebody else, like Bandai? D00d. They own it. I make no money, just ask my parents.
Warning; Kissin' bois.
Sequel to Knowing.
A fuck is a different thing than a lover. A fuck is a comfortable role in the sheets, a laugh and a half under covers and no hard feelings when all is said and you're both done. A fuck is fun fun fun and great stress relief.
A lover is hard to talk with and impossible to be silent to. A lover is the hard edge of a single bed in your calf as you lie there holding hands. A lover hurts and claws at your heart and matters more than any one or anything since a burning church and a dying orphan. A lover is feelings so hard I can't look you in the face and my head is buried in your chest and my leg aches from the metal edge of this stupid single bed.
Trowa, you can hurt me, if only by your loss. You can tear me apart if I lose you, you can rip me down.
"Duo," you say, into my ear, so soft. The quiet boys in bed, even Heero across the hall won't hear us breathing together in dark, not that it matters when Wu-Fei can catch me leaving your room in the morning any time he wants. Sneaky Chinese fuck, but then I'm not careful any more.
Not careful the way I was when we began to mess around, not careful like a sinner in the dark; "Bless me, father . . ." Now I am noisy and when I leave I am obvious, traipsing down the hall for coffee with hair mussed by your sheets. I am a sinner in this darkness, with full intent and raging noise.
"Duo. . . " One hand running down my back, wrapping in my hair, pulling my head until your lips ghost the edges of my neck. "Duo, are you awake?"
"Yeah, Tro, yeah," I mutter, pulling back, " Hey don't you ever get enough? Lemme sleep."
I roll over and almost fall off. Stupid bed, stupid life, stupid war and stupid boy, pulling me back and spooning me. Chest to back, thigh to thigh, line of your body long and lean against me, short and small. One arm is our pillow, the other you cover me with and let play in my hair. You avoid tangling in my curls, brush my cheek with the back of your hand. Pull away my pillow and I feel your breath hot on my cheek.
"Duo?"
"Yeah?" I say, turn my head to meet your eyes in the shadows. I never can resist your voice, sounds like something low and hungry, sounds like both our hearts in this stupid stupid war.
"Thank you."
"What for?"
Your eyes say this matters, something is here for me if I catch it just in time. I'm ready to catch, dammit, throw.
You pause and have I lost it? Whatever you wanted to give me I was ready for. I thought I'd lost you this afternoon. I have never been so afraid of a few curse words strung together, an angry voice. I have so much to lose. And you are one of five things I need to keep.
"Thank you for helping me with dinner."
Finally said, this end of this peculiar conversation. Is that what you're saying? Is that what I should hear?
I don't think so.
"You're welcome," I say it loftily. "Kiss me an' lemme sleep."
You oblige. Peace at last, and finally I don't have a leg over the edge. Rest in this bed and breath, lay here now with you.
What we are, I don't know, but I'm thinking about it.