Stephanie
May 2001
Setting: A week after Skin DeepWarning:
Shounen-ai (male/male homosexual situations), 1+2, 1+3 Rating: R
Disclaimer: This is a work of amateur non-profit fiction and is not intended to infringe on the rights of Sunrise, Sotsu Agency, Asahi TV, and Bandai Visuals.
"Duo . . . " Trowa said his name as a warning not to press matter further. He was not up for this now. Not a battle with Duo . . . Not on so little sleep.
"I'm serious man. I'm not drinking that shit! We don't know what's in it, there could be one of those . . . those things," he said with a shiver.
"Boil the water then," Trowa replied.
"Well I would, but . . . " Duo trailed off looking a little embarrassed.
"What?" he asked, though Trowa didn't really care about Duo's excuse at this point. He had been beyond patient with Duo's new phobia and it was beginning to wear on his nerves.
"Well, we only have one pot . . . it's not even a good pot, you know? But, well we only have one and Heero is sort of using it now to wash our socks and underwear. I don't think I can use it for drinking water now."
Trowa pinched the bridge of his nose between this thumb and index finger, feeling another of his headaches about to descend. "Just wash it out with soap and hot water. It will be fine."
"Um . . . I dunno, Trowa. After that whole worm thing, I'm not sure I can risk it again. My leg is still burning from that thing." He shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. "And the nightmares, man . . . Christ, all my dreams have turned into really bad B-flicks. I had one where that thing popped out of my leg and started talking to me," he shuddered and turned a little pale.
Trowa sighed and turned away, looking for the fastest route of escape before the pain set in and Duo noticed.
"You know the weird part of that dream," Duo continued, "is that the worm started yelling at Heero and telling him to be nicer to me. I really don't want to know what that says about me. You don't think it's some sick perverted Freudian type thing, do you?"
Trowa looked back at Duo for a moment and blinked. "What?"
"You know, Freud? The psychologist that summed everything up to sex--"
"Yes, I know who Freud is, Duo--" He stop, feeling the ground shift beneath his feet. He instinctively grabbed onto the nearest object to steady himself, which happened to be Duo.
"Hey there!" Duo caught him. "You okay?"
He began to nod, but the movement sent a piercing pain through his head, as though his skull had an unfortunate meeting with Shinigami's scythe. He stumbled back, clutching his head between his arms and holding the back of his neck.
Duo immediately wrapped his arms around him to hold him up. "I'll take that as a no. Let's get you to your cot." He dragged Trowa over to the little cot in the corner of the room and set the boy down in it. Trowa was breathing in quick shallow gasps of air and his face was contorted in pain. He clung to Duo as if using him as a shield to block him from the rest of the world. "Hey there, buddy!" Duo said in surprise. "Something's really wrong, huh?" He leaned over Trowa, caught in his tight grip, and made a weak attempt to disengage himself. "Um . . . You need to let go of me so I can help you. Can you tell me what's wrong?"
Trowa abruptly let go of Duo's shirt and curled up in the bed, covering his head once again. "...go..." he croaked, not able to say much more.
"I don't think so, my friend." He reached out to brush the bangs from Trowa face, but pulled back when the other boy flinched. "Is it your head, Trowa?"
Trowa's breathing slowed and became more regular as the pain relented from the acute stabbing pain to the more manageable throbbing sort. He nodded slightly, but did not attempt to look at Duo. "Just . . . a headache . . . " he said, taking a deep breath.
Duo sighed and sat back a little. "That's some headache. I'll get you a couple of aspirin." He got up and went to his duffle bag by his own cot, rummaging through, it looking for the bottle of aspirin he always kept with him. He shouted across the room shaking the bottle, "Hey, you want two or three of these?"
Trowa covered his ears and buried his head in his pillow.
"Don't give him that," Heero said as he strode into the room.
"Why not? The guy is in pain, Heero." Duo crossed his arms and watched as Heero heading to the huddled form that was Trowa.
"You know it thins the blood." He sat on the bed next to Trowa, who did not move or acknowledge Heero. "It won't work anyway."
Duo looked down at his bottle and back up to Heero. "Well it always works for me. Besides, if you're in the middle of a battle and losing that much blood, what are the chances that two little aspirins will make it worse? It's not like Oz is going to stop and administer first aid . . . and we'd probably just end up self-destructing anyway." He shrugged and put the bottle away "I don't see the wrong in alleviating a little pain in the here and now."
Heero tuned back to Duo. "Go to the market. See if you can find a non-aspirin-based pain reliever . . . the strongest you can find."
"God Heero," Duo stared at Heero, a bit startled by his command. "I don't know what I'm going to be able to dig up here. The war tore up most of--"
"Just go, Duo." Heero returned his attention to Trowa who was beginning to move a little.
"I don't suppose you have money to give me," Duo said as he stood. He grabbed his pistol and shoved it in the back of his pants.
"Use your resources," Heero simply stated and tried to turn Trowa around to face him. The boy's breath quickened again as the natural light of the room tore into his brain. Still, he tried to cooperate with Heero.
"Use my resources . . . Sure. And while I'm out there I'll just pull a cure for cancer out of my ass," Duo muttered. "Well, I'm off," He sprinted to the door and swung it open, letting the midday sun pour into the dingy room. A muffled whimper was heard as Trowa buried his head once again. "Need anything else, Heero? Pack of gum? Ammunition? Diamonds?"
"Water. Go. Now. And shut that door," Heero ordered.
Duo rolled his eyes and left without another word.
"And you . . . " Heero said to the huddled mass on the cot. Trowa said nothing. He felt the weight of Heero suddenly gone from the bed and the glare of light from behind his closed eyelids dimmed. "I've blocked out all the light. Try to turn around now." He paused for a moment waiting for Trowa to comply. "What's wrong?" Heero asked.
Trowa attempted to turn once again but stopped before completely facing Heero. That was as far as his body would move for now. "Just . . . a . . . headache," he managed again.
"This is the fourth time in two weeks, Trowa," Heero said as he walked around to the other side of the cot so he could face Trowa. He leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms. "Did you think I didn't notice the others?"
Trowa's heavy lidded eyes remained level with Heero's knees. He did not bother to look up into the accusing stare of Heero Yuy. "No missions . . . wasn't relevant."
"Hn." Heero pushed himself from the wall and knelt next to the cot. "None yet. That won't last for long." He reached down and slid one hand behind Trowa's back and placed the other one on his chest. He gently pulled the other boy closer to him, not shying away from the wince of pain Trowa gave as Heero moved him. He held Trowa's body up with one hand and used the other to take off his shirt, trying not to jar Trowa too much as he did so. "You insisted you were fine after that last mission, but that was one of the sloppiest landings I've ever seen you make." Heero raised the shirt over Trowa's limply raised hands and watched them flop back down as he discarded the shirt. "I won't ask you again, Trowa. What's wrong?"
Trowa lethargically shook his head from side to side, as time was thrown out of joint and had slowed to a crawl around him. His mouth was dry and he craved water as though his whole body would disintegrate into sand if Heero could not find something for him to drink. At the same time, the thought of actually consuming anything nauseated him. He attempted to meet Heero's eyes, but he could not maintain focus. The strain to keep his head still and eyes on Heero only compounded the pain, so he gave up and allowed his head to rest against Heero's chest, disregarding any sense of poise he had cultivated for himself in the past. Heero had asked him a question, and in between the hour it seemed to take to shake his head, Trowa had forgotten what is was.
"Trowa . . . " Heero said, rousing the boy from his mental struggle. "Are you listening to me?"
"Um," Trowa responded to the sound of Heero's voice, but remained very still. "What did you say?"
"Are you lis--"
"No . . . no . . . before that." Trowa asked quietly.
Heero shook his head slightly. "Don't worry about it. I'm going to lower you back down on your stomach. Can you turn around?"
Trowa slowly pulled away from Heero and turned a bit as Heero helped to lower him onto the cot. Gravity helped with this and for that he was grateful. The pain was the worst it had ever been, and for the first time since the headaches had begun, he was afraid. He was also embarrassed at the immense display of weakness in front of Heero. It was not simply that he needed help, he was not so proud around Heero that he couldn't admit that, it was rather that he was so completely incapacitated over something like a headache. At least he had hoped it was only a headache. He had felt the burn of a bullet and the blade of a knife sear through his flesh before, but it somehow never felt this unbearable. Those wounds had never moved him to want his eyes torn out. If it was something more serious, what would he do?
"Relax." Trowa heard the word on a hot breath against his ear. It was more like a force of will than speech, and he felt his body go limp at the order. He could not tell if it was the innate sense he had to follow his orders that made him obey, or just the rest of his strength draining away.
Heero ran the palms of his hands over Trowa's back gently a few times. The feeling may have been pleasant if not for the throbbing in Trowa's head over ridding other sensations. "This is called shiatsu," Heero said softly. "Be still. It might hurt at first." Trowa tensed, not sure he could cope with more pain. "Be still," Heero said again, placing a reassuring but firm hand in the middle of Trowa's back. "When I finish, the pain will be gone."
Trowa sighed but remained still. He trusted this man. If Heero said the pain would be gone, then it would be. And if it wasn't, he'd trust Heero to go the next step for him.
He started at the base of the skull using both thumbs to apply pressure, as he pressed down hard and held the position. Trowa screamed as his head shattered from the force. He gripped the legs of the cot tightly, willing back the nausea that now threatened to over take him. He could not breathe and his lungs ached with the need for air.
"Shhh," Heero spoke softly. "It won't last long. Just a few seconds more."
Trowa's eyes watered, but he stilled himself. Only a few seconds more . . .
Heero slowly released the pressure and removed his thumbs from the point on Trowa's neck. There was a loud gasp and Trowa felt as though Heero had released a pressure valve from within his head, freeing whatever substance had been trapped inside him.
In those few moments, the boy's hair had become wet with sweat and Heero wiped away the few beads of water that had collected at the base of his neck. "How do you feel now?" he asked.
Trowa blinked a few times and took a deep breath. "Better," he said quietly, and in truth the pain that had been excruciating and crippling was gone, replaced only by a dull ache. But even with the relief, he felt weak and exhausted at the same time. He tried to get up, nevertheless, and was met again by Heero's hand in the middle of his back pressing him down gently.
"I'm not done," Heero said, and began moving his hands over Trowa's back, testing it for trouble spots it seemed. "You're still tense. If you don't relax, the headache will return."
Trowa followed the motion of Heero's hand and once again laid quietly on the cot.
"Can you tell me what is wrong now, Trowa? It's not just a headache. Tell me what's happening," Heero said as he began to massage Trowa's shoulder muscles. It felt to Trowa that Heero was raising the muscles clear from the bones as he rolled and stretched them in his hands. It should have hurt, he thought, and indeed it did to a small extent, but it felt good at the same time and he was grateful for the continued contact.
"I. . . don't know. I don't remember an injury." He thought for a moment in silence, trying to remember anything that would have caused headaches like these. "It started after our last mission, that's all I know."
Heero nodded. "Yes. I remember that landing you made."
"What?" Trowa nearly turned around, but Heero's ministrations kept him from completing the act.
"I said I saw how you landed after that mission. I thought you might crash, but you didn't. Perhaps you were injured then. You took the brunt of the blast when the weapons facility blew." He continued to roll the muscle mass with his finger and working the knots free. Soft little noises that might have been sounds of pleasure escaped from Trowa. Heero smirked.
"Maybe," Trowa said quietly. "I don't think I hit my head."
Heero moved down Trowa's back, under the shoulder blade. "You were caught in the shockwave of that blast that might be enough to trigger these headaches." He pressed a little harder on the muscle. "Next time, say something if you're in pain." Heero paused for a moment and then continued a bit more gently. "You're of little use to us in this condition."
"Sorry," Trowa said softly. "I thought . . . they were just headaches at first. I didn't think . . . it would get this bad."
"Hn," Heero nodded. "We'll have Sally Po check you when we see her again." He moved his hands down to the right side of Trowa's back and felt the boy jump as he touched the rock hard muscle. "You need to take better care," Heero smirked again. "Of your body, I mean. I would think an acrobat would be more limber. Have you been exercising at all?"
"Yes," Trowa said tersely, his body once again constricting. "It doesn't help much when the headaches come."
"Relax," Heero said again. "You're making yourself tense again." Trowa bit his lip and tried to ease the tension he felt building again. He didn't know why he was doing it, but he could feel the muscles in his back constrict and release almost against his will. Heero leaned in against Trowa's ear and whispered softly into it. "Trowa . . . Stop fighting."
Trowa took a deep breath and then . . . stopped.
He let Heero do his job to relieve him of the tension and pain, and in turn, he tried to make it easier. It was difficult, this, but it was only fair. He could not remember a time before when someone had tried to ease his discomfort whether it was from illness or injury. There were important things to tend to, and no one should be bothered with this. But the fatigue that had begun to settle in was overwhelming, and Trowa wanted little more than to give into it.
For a long while they were both quiet, as Heero worked on his back. The body beneath Heero's hands finally unwound and the spasms ceased. Little by little, Trowa let go and he found himself enjoying the gentle touch of Heero's hands. They were soothing to him, and soon Trowa was drifting, lost in the impending oblivion.
"Your jeans are too constricting." Heero spoke softly, as if not to startle this more peaceful state of Trowa's.
"Huh?" Trowa shifted a little, barely registering the words as his mind teetered on the brink of sleep.
"Your jeans," Heero said, giving them a tug. "They're too constricting. I'm going to remove them."
"Hn . . . fine . . . "
"Trowa. I need you to turn over."
Trowa opened his eyes and stared at the fabric of the pillow case for a long moment before closing them again.
"Trowa?"
"Hn?"
Heero moved over to the edge of the cot and gently began to turn Trowa onto his back. His eyes remained closed and his body limp as Heero moved him. In the course of the episode, Trowa's bangs had become matted from sweat and being ground into the pillow. Heero pushed the hair back from Trowa's eyes and wiped his damp forehead with a paper napkin. He then reached over and unbuckled the belt on Trowa's jeans.
Trowa jolted up, his eyes wide and staring at Heero. "What are you doing?" he demanded, as the tension once again reclaimed his body. His breathing was labored and coming in rapid shallow breaths, while his heart pounded in his chest.
Heero sat back in the cot and looked at Trowa. "I told you," he said calmly, "your jeans are too constricting, I'm taking them off. You said it was okay if I did." He paused for a moment and regarded Trowa. "Is it?"
Trowa took a deep breath, trying to regain control. He nodded to Heero and reclined again against the pillows. He moved his hands down to unbutton the jeans and loosened them for Heero. It was suddenly so hot in the room. Trowa could feel the sweat rolling down the side of his neck and he quickly reasoned that the heat of the mid afternoon sun had turned the closed up shack into an oven.
Heero gently wiped Trowa's face again with the napkin. "You have a fever."
Trowa narrowed his eyes. "From a headache?" He shook his head. "No . . . open a window. It's just hot."
"It's not hot," Heero countered, but he rose from the bed to open the windows beneath the shades anyway. He returned and knelt down on one knee by the cot, once again brushing away the wet hair that clung to Trowa's forehead. And then he did something that neither of them seemed to expect. He leaned down over Trowa and kissed him lightly on the lips - hesitant at first, and then more firmly.
Trowa froze, quite certain now that he had seriously injured his head and was hallucinating. Heero Yuy did not kiss people. He didn't quite believe that Heero even kissed Duo, though they had been together for over a month now. It was difficult to think of Heero performing such a function. Sex, yes. It was a biological necessity. But kissing? And he was kissing Heero back now. Yes. It wasn't a passionate kiss, yet it wasn't a chaste kiss either. It was a loving, gentle kiss. The kind that was meant to comfort. And this was Heero.
And this was Heero . . .
And he didn't pull away, or even seem to mind that Heero was kissing him or that he was kissing Heero. It felt nice - something that Trowa had not felt in a long time. It felt like playing the flute with Quatre.
It felt right.
Heero smiled a little as he pulled away. "Let me get these off of you," he said as he tugged the jeans over Trowa's hips, leaving him only in his boxers. Trowa merely stared up at him, his mind blank, waiting, too exhausted to think of what would be next.
The door flew open and Duo strode back into the room carrying a large brown grocery bag and a look of triumph on his face that faded as he watched Heero pull off Trowa's jeans and toss them to the floor. "Geez, Heero! If you wanted to get in his pants you could have done that a bit earlier. It's not like I didn't give you enough time."
"Duo, lower your voice," Heero said without looking at him. "And shut the door, his eyes are still sensitive to the light."
"That headache's still pretty bad, huh?" Duo shut the door quietly and walked a bit closer to them. He stopped and set his bag down on the ground, pulling a small medicine bottle from it. "Well, here ya go," he said, tossing the bottle at Heero, who caught it and opened it immediately to give to Trowa. "It's like a billion milligrams of ibuprofen. Full hospital type dosage." Duo raised his hands in front as if to stop any questions and turned his head. "Don't ask me how I scored it. A magician never reveals his secrets."
Heero glanced up at Duo as he helped Trowa up into a sitting position. "Did you get water?"
"Hn." Duo placed his hands on his hips and glared at Heero. "Forgiving the fact that both of you have been claiming there is nothing wrong with the well water and the whole hypocrisy with demanding bottled water when one of *you* gets sick . . . " he paused for a moment and stared intently at Heero, "I did indeed find you water." He reached into his bag on the floor and pulled out a large plastic milk jug full of water. He walked over to his own cot and picked up a small glass that was sitting next to it and pour some water into it.
Heero held Trowa up, his hand in the middle of his back supporting him. He placed the pills in Trowa's mouth and took the water that Duo offered him. He placed the glass to Trowa's lips and tilted it up.
Trowa swallowed the pills and gulped down the water, not realizing how dehydrated he was until the water touched his lips.
"Easy," Heero said. "You'll choke if you bolt it down like that."
Trowa nodded absently and waited for the glass to be refilled. He drank the second glass down more slowly, but still with a pressing urgency. When he had finished that glass, he let Heero ease him back against the cot.
"You two make a cute couple," Duo blurted out with a smirk on his lips. Trowa looked up at him and narrowed his eyes. "Well, not as beautiful as me and Heero, but you know . . . cute."
"Duo . . . " Heero warned.
"What?" Duo sat on the opposite side of Heero on Trowa's cot and looked at Heero innocently. He looked back down at Trowa and smiled warmly. "It's kind of nice to see you like this," he said to Trowa, who blankly stared back at him. "Don't get me wrong, buddy, I hate to see you sick and all, but it's nice to see this human side. If it were Heero," he said motioning to him with his thumb, "we'd just hook him up to his laptop and run a diagnostic."
Trowa's lips slightly twitched upward."Hn." Heero crossed his arms and glared at Duo. "Are you done?"
Duo laughed and stood from the cot. "Heh, I'm never done." He walked around to Heero and patted him on the cheek. "Don't you ever learn?"
Heero raised an eyebrow at Duo and then turned back to Trowa. He poured water over a napkin and began to cool Trowa's face. "Duo, go out back and bring the laundry inside."
Duo crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the floor. "I'm not your servant, Heero"
Heero shrugged. "It's your laundry that's been boiling out there for the past hour."
"What?" Duo stared at Heero with wide eyes. "You didn't!" He tilted his head back and rolled it from side to side as he stared up at the ceiling. "You get a perverse pleasure out of ruining my stuff . . . " He slowly walked to the door muttering about stolen Gundam parts, burnt underwear and talking worms as he left the room.
"Why did you do that," Trowa spoke softly.
Heero smirked. "I put the fire out before I came in, his clothes are fine."
"No . . ." Trowa shook his head. "Not that."
Heero looked at Trowa for a moment before speaking. "Because you have been kind to me in the past . . . and to Duo. And because . . . " he paused and stared into Trowa's eyes, "it seemed right."
"It . . . seemed right . . . " Trowa repeated. "Yes . . . but--"
Heero put his index finger over Trowa's lips. "Sleep now," he said and kissed him lightly on the forehead. He stood from the cot and left the room without another word.
Heero.
Trowa closed his eyes and dreamt of playing his flute.
~end~