Title: The Heart and Soul of Outer Space
Author: Seguchi Touma
Pairings : 1x4 or 4x1 depending on how you look at it
Warnings: YAOI. GW doesn't belong to me, although I will gladly take them if their rightful owners no longer want them. Really. It would be nooo trouble. Songs used are 'Why?' and 'Cold' by Annie Lennox from the Diva album, I believe. *...* is thought.

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Heero – The Heart
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How many times do I have to try to tell you
That I'm sorry for the things I've done

Heero stood silently where the ocean's water touched upon the sand to leave damp tracks of its presence. A rill of laughter captured his lost attention as he turned to watch Quatre further down the sand. It had been the first time since the battle that he'd seen anything approaching a smile from their usually cheery teammate since the disaster with the ZERO system. An ice prick of jealousy touched his heart at first, quickly silenced within him. So what if a pair of mongrels instead of himself managed to bring an expression of happiness back to Quatre?

But when I start to try to tell you
That's when you have to tell me
Hey...this kind of trouble's only just begun

To his own inner horror, the image of the girl and her puppy rose from the depths of his mind where it usually lay banished. Coldness raced over his spine, gooseflesh breaking out across his arms. The Arabian would not be another innocent to fall in this war. No, he reasoned with himself, Quatre was far from innocent really. Wasn't the blonde's hands coated with the same crimson that his and the other's were? Hadn't he just destroyed a colony? Wasn't Quatre as responsible as any murderer for all the lives that he had taken? Heero's mind twisted away from him at that thought, refusing to let those accusations anchor themselves and fester.

I tell myself too many times
Why don't you ever learn to keep your big mouth shut?

*I will kill you Quatre* Those words kept ringing in his own ears. Would anyone have believed that they had been spoken in near terror? Would they have thought even for a brief time that the Perfect Soldier had nearly been in tears? He had lacked kind words that might have appealed to the sensitive side of the blonde. Trowa had known what to say though, hadn't he? The bitter bite of jealousy tried to resurface once more only to be killed off once more. Trowa had been the saving grace, a friend who had sacrificed his life for the both of them, not a person to be hated like a schoolboy would when someone picks their love up after a spill on the swings.

That's why it hurts so bad to hear the words
That keep on falling from your mouth

Quatre still cried for Trowa, generally when he believed Heero was asleep or far enough away that he wouldn't be heard. Each one of those tears or low-pitched sobs pulled at the Japanese pilot's heartstrings. He wanted to wipe them away or do something to soothe them into nothingness. Even when Quatre had begun, Heero knew with a sick certainty that he couldn't stop the other pilot, not if it meant killing him. His conscious could easily accept that deaths of those within before it could Quatre. It was a paradox that was going to drive him insane in the end, he was sure of it. He could still be sorrowed at the death of a girl and her puppy, but let the scales hold the blonde on one side and an entire colony on the other, and he choose the one to live.

Falling from your mouth
Falling from your mouth
Tell me...
Why
Why

The memory of last night brought tightness to his lips, teeth clenching together. Quatre had awoken him, the Arab sobbing forlornly in his nightmares. Rising from his own blanket, Heero had slid his arms about the blonde, trying gently to awaken him only to hear something that crushed his heart. The one he had begun to love in his own tentative way was crying and mumbling about running away from him, telling Trowa over and over that Heero was going to kill him, and he was so afraid. For a time, Heero had been sure that his heart had stopped beating, turned to a lump of stone cold ice in his chest.

I may be mad
I may be blind
I may be viciously unkind

Up in space, all he could think of to break through Quatre's madness had been to threaten his life with death. The Arabian put such a store by them all being friends, all being part of a group, and it worked out in Heero's logic that it would either frighten or wake him up. Harming Quatre wasn't something he could do now. Somehow, the blonde had wormed his way past whatever defenses Heero threw up against him and his ways. For a time, he had wondered if it was a plot of some sort to break him, Treize's ultimate revenge. That thought had been lost like so many others where Quatre was concerned after listening to the other pilot talk in his sleep.

But I can still read what you're thinking
And I've heard it said too many times

Quatre went on as badly as Duo did once he fell into a deep sleep. The gods help them if OZ ever captured Quatre, and the blonde fell asleep. Of course, they'd probably have little use for knowing that the Arab needed to pick up a box of those expensive truffles for Duo or that Wufei needed more comfortable mats to practice on. Then again, OZ would have to be concerning itself with an enraged Heero ransacking their base for the other instead. If Quatre were taken, his last reason for existence would be gone, and a suicide run such as taking on all of OZ by himself would be welcomed. There was no real reason to go on when the sun ceased to shine, was there?

That you'd be better off
Besides...

Most thought Heero fought for Relena, and that was fine for him. It worked out quite well in the long run as long as he could keep avoiding her hands on him. Letting his gaze find Quatre once more, he knew that was the whole reason he killed and went to war when most people his age were thinking of their first kiss or getting a date. The sunlight played off of those silken locks of hair, alighting his hair like a halo. It wasn't the first time Heero found himself comparing Quatre to a celestial being. It was cliché and trite perhaps, but it was all that his limited emotional vocabulary could provide. He fought for Quatre, for his love of the boy as well as his hope to make the world peaceful for his own personal tenshi to be laughing and joyful like this all the time. In his own way, he knew Quatre was stronger than all of them combined. It was easily disbelieved looking at him, but Quatre had an inner light that he, the Maganacs, his sisters, and everyone else he came in contact with flocked to him. His chibi tenshi never took the too easy option of making himself distant to protect himself; he needed no wall between himself and the world. Quatre met everyone and everything on their terms and dealt with it. He had no doubt that if Quatre decided to challenge Relena for some insane reason to rule when this was over that he would win. They didn't have to see a muscle-bound body to know Quatre was a leader and had more strength than one would imagine.

Why can't you see this boat is sinking?
(This boat is sinking, this boat is sinking)

A soft touch at his shoulder brought Heero out of his inner musings, half surprised to see Quatre at his side instead of fifteen or so feet down the beach where he had been. The smile still tugged at those coral lips as he introduced Heero to the dogs, tossing a stick into the water for them to chase happily. As they brought it back, Quatre handed it to Heero for him to try. In the brief second their hands touched, he wondered why the blonde tried so hard with him, subtle proddings to try to pull him out of his self imposed isolation. He was lost cause, not someone to be helped, merely left alone to perform his duties even if he did want that companionship. He had tried to shove Trowa onto the boy, knowing full well how Trowa felt when he'd advised the Italian pilot to follow his heart.

Let's go down to the water's edge
And we can cast away those doubts

When Quatre's hand slid into his own to pull him further down the shoreline and show him the clams the dogs had dug up, Heero's mind took a mental snapshot. Later, when drifting in the empty vastness of space or feeling that cold silence drift back into his heart and mind, he could pull out these memories and page through them like a normal person would a photo album. They would get him through the long nights when nothing else seemed worth continuing on for. He fought himself, a silent and secret battle that Quatre never realized before he coaxed his fingers into tightening about the other's hand. Fear leaped up hot and scorching in his heart, the Perfect Soldier not unfamiliar with that emotion. He simply hid it better than everyone else did.

Some things are better left unsaid
But they still turn me inside out
Turning inside out turning inside out
Tell me...
Why
Tell me...
Why

Exhausting his tale of the dogs fighting the vicious… and apparently cannibalistic clams, Quatre plunked down in the sand, tugging Heero with him. Sitting as gingerly as he would on broken glass, a stiffness straightened his spine as he felt Quatre's head lay on his shoulder, the gentle voice from beside him talking about the sunset's colours and how he missed seeing it when he was in space. While the other went on in his ramblings, Heero merely sat there. On the outside, he was as impassive as always, watching the brilliant display of the waning day and coming night. Inside, he was nearly sick with worry and fright.

This is the book I never read
These are the words I never said.

Everything he had tried to picture himself saying dried up in his throat. Had it not been for his long training for combat situations, his heart would have been going at a rabbit's pace. Should he wrap his arm around Quatre? Leave it down? Say something? Sit there? While his mind could churn up combat stats as well as plans, it only presented him a blank at this. Becoming aware that Quatre was looking at him expectantly, Heero wracked his mind, trying to come up with whatever he had just been asked. When nothing came up to this question either, he merely gave his characteristic `Hn'.

This is the path I'll never tread
These are the dreams I'll dream instead
This is the joy that's seldom spread

Defeat shoved him down into a well-hidden depression as Quatre's eyes reflected some of his inner hurt at not getting more of a reply. Stifling his sigh, Heero felt himself tumbling back on the sand, his hand already curling to strike at whatever had landed on him. A soldier's long honed reflexes were hellacious to beat back at times. Soft lips enclosing his own brought that action to a standstill, his fist pausing a bare inch from Quatre's side, mind slowly processing the information that he was being kissed.

These are the tears...
The tears we shed

Instincts took over while the brain reeled from the onslaught. A tentative, nearly shy, response met the touching of their lips. His own body leaped to the knowledge of long held dreams were becoming real. The one thought that fought through the chaos was that if this was a dream, Heero was promptly shooting the person that woke him up. The taints of salt water and cinnamon filling his mouth gave him the fragile belief that this could be and was real. Slender fingers swept through his hair, lowering to cup his face within them.

This is the fear
This is the dread

As his mind caught up to the rest of him, it screamed at Heero that this was a trap; some plot of Quatre's that it couldn't fathom the reasons of and would ultimately end in his own destruction. This wasn't an overly bothersome thought. If Quatre wanted to shed his blood, he'd gladly give it up for this contact. He groaned softly into the other's mouth as the blonde's legs wrapped about him, steel like strength that made the illusions of frailty in the Arab a lie. A quick rocking of Quatre's body sent them in a half roll, landing with Heero atop him. Even with himself in the seme position, Heero held no belief in the idea that he was in control. Whatever he had, he gave up to the one who's lips were plundering his own.

These are the contents of my head
And these are the years that we have spent
And this is what they represent

How clothing came off with their lips never leaving each other's was a mystery Heero. His mind was trapped in its own personal hurricane, losing coherency and thankfully enough, his own fear. Slickness slid along his bared length, teasing him further into what was an already painful hardness. In his fog of disbelief, he hadn't even realized how and for what he was being positioned until Quatre's legs wrapped about him forced his hips forward. The pain filled gasp coming from beneath him reignited his own fear with a blaze. He had hurt Quatre. Trying to disentangle himself, resistance met him every step of the way. Quatre's lips overtook Heero's once more, quietly pleading with him to continue, to not hate him. Tears wet his skin from the other's eyes, leaving hot trails where they marked him. An upward thrust of Quatre's hips met his own last futile attempt to pull away.

And this is how I feel
Do you know how I feel?

Those words struck him cold as the nightmare he'd heard the blonde crying in had. Quatre honestly thought he'd hate him, hurt him, or want him gone? The cold façade he'd wrapped himself in for so long couldn't break, even for this, but it could and did crack. His own low murmur answered Quatre, reassuring him in soft whispers even as he let himself relax and force his companion to slow down the frantic tempo he'd tried to create. Stilling the body beneath his, Heero began to slowly rock against the blonde's hips, laying soft kisses along the porcelain shoulder of the Arab. He couldn't make his throat unlock to speak all that he wanted, so he showed the one his arms as best he could. The whisper of his own name against his ear with Quatre's climax drove him to his own.

'Cause I don't think you know how I feel
I don't think you know what I feel

Afterwards, Quatre had tried to apologize, to explain his reasons. A fingertip pressed to his lips silenced the stream of words that Heero didn't want to hear. All he wanted to do was bury his face in those golden curls and lay there in the cooling sand, feeling the heartbeat of his meaning of life against him. Anything Quatre would say, he wouldn't know how to respond to and would only be able to sit there mutely with a thousand thoughts in his head while unable to say any of them. His limbs curled about the other pilot's body, nuzzling against him gently and giving him his body heat. *Just let me hold you and have a moment of happiness* he mentally pleaded.

I don't think you know what I feel
You don't know what I feel

*Just let me hold you*


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Quatre – The Soul
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Come to me
Do and be done with me
(Cold cold cold)

Rustling the fur of one of the dogs before him, Quatre felt the hard grip of depression release him for a time. Death he had caused still laid heavily on him, a private pain that he wasn't willing to share just yet or perhaps never. There were things he kept to himself, such as his own hurts, even when Duo would wail over a papercut. He had to make others happy, not himself. He didn't matter in the grand scheme of things in his own eyes. Tossing the stick for one of the canines to chase, he surprised himself by laughing. How long had it been since he'd done that. Far too long, he decided.

Don't I exist for you
Don't I still live for you
(Cold cold cold)

Turning his head to find Heero, an icy finger traced up his spine as he caught sight of the pilot of Wing Zero further down the beach. While he was no telepath, he knew from the emotion flowing off the other that what he was thinking of wasn't pleasant. On the outside, Heero was the same as always, appearing as if life moved about him while he stood apart from it. That was he admired and pitied the most at the same time. He was unfazed by the things about him, but he didn't seemed to be moved by them either. Perhaps he was, and he just kept it hidden so well that no one suspected…

Everything I possess
Given with tenderness
Wrapped in a ribbon of glass

He was supposed to be dead by now, a fact that Quatre was painfully aware of. Late at night, he wished he were. It would be better than all of this, especially now that he was alone with Heero. His words up in space had been cold and deliberately said, each one hitting its mark. All the pain caused by the threat of death had merely been recycled by the ZERO system and send back to him as more of a reason to attack, to destroy, to kill… No other had lived after Heero's threat of death was laid on them except for Relena, and Quatre wasn't too sure that Heero planned to let that go much longer.

Time it may take us but God only knows
How I've paid for those things in the past

Watching Heero like this, his thoughts wandered back to Trowa, a sigh taking his breath. Trowa… His friend that he had hurt with his mad rampage, murdered as surely as he had anyone else that had gotten in his way during the ZERO spree. When he cried, it wasn't just for their lost comrade, but for everyone he had harmed and slain. The responsibility of all that one him crushed Quatre at times, drove him down as the Earth nearly had Atlas in the old myths. It was hard to be strong, but he did it regardless. Someone had to smile even when his bones felt broken or his blood and that of others washed him. Someone had to be there to cheer them up, pull them back from the brink of self-destruction. He had failed miserably this time around.

Dying is easy it's living that scares me to death
I could be so content hearing the sound of your breath
Cold is the colour of crystal the snowlight

That nightmare of death at Heero's hands chased him even into sleep. It hurt worse than anything Quatre knew to be caught up in an endless cycle of his own destruction at the hands of the one he wanted to be closer to. It had been no mystery to him that he found himself being more and more fascinated with Heero. Heero was the symbol of strength, the pillar that they all rested on. Who wouldn't want to be with him?

That falls from the heavenly skies
Catch me and let me dive under
For I want to swim in the pools of our eyes

That was why these dreams tore at him so badly, laid waste to his psyche in the late hours. This was the person who's caring and happiness he wanted, not to decorate their hands with his blood. Even in the depths of the ZERO system's madness, he hadn't seen himself hurting Heero. Quatre had tried repeatedly to warn him off, get him away. According to the design of it, he shouldn't have been able to do that. The ZERO system instructed the user to eliminate all distractions. Heero was a distraction; yet, he hadn't been able to hurt him. Before, he had felt Heero attempt to self-destruct half a world away. He knew he was either falling or was in love with him.

I want to be with you baby
Slip me inside of your heart

What brought him some comfort was knowing that Heero stayed up at nights with him. While not a light sleeper, the warrior instinct in him did bring him to full wakefulness when he was lifted. Quatre had felt the other pilot hold him before, trying to soothe away the distorted dream images with touches of his hands and his presence. When the cold had been keeping him awake with shivering, he'd heard Heero approach his bed and lay his own blanket over the Arab's body to warm him. That night he had slept without disturbance, breathing in and lulled by the scent of Wing's pilot wrapped about him.

Don't I belong to you baby?
Don't you know that nothing can tear us apart?

Heero was one of the people that Quatre fought this war for, one among many. Perhaps if the war were over, then Heero could go to a normal life with Relena or Duo or one of the many others that seemed to care for him. Then, Quatre could be happy. There would be misery at losing the one he loved, but to know he had reached a semblance of happiness. Wasn't that what it was all about? Wasn't that true love? To love someone enough to let him or her go into another's arms if that was what brought them pleasure? Watching Heero's face, the thoughtfulness in those distant Prussian eyes made him want to know what the other was thinking of. Even the enigmatic smile that barely turned up the edges of Heero's lips was a jolt to Quatre's heart.

Come on now come on now come on now
Telling you that
I loved you right from the start...

Touching on the other pilot's shoulder, he offered him a smile, the bravery at asking fleeing as the mask of Heero's inner self snapped down with a vengeance. Determination was not something Quatre was in short supply of. Words came easy to him as he introduced the dogs to Heero, tossing the stick for them to chase and then handing it to the Japanese boy. The moment of contact between their hands told him of Heero's self-ponderings, something about his own being causing him distress. Grasping the other's hand in his own, he had to take his mind off of it, wipe away those doubts.

But the more I want you the less I get
Ain't that just the way things are...

They were stupid tricks that he tried, something Quatre knew in his heart. Even the story of the clams failed to tease that smile out of hiding again. Sitting on the sand, his gaze turned to the sunset instead, telling the other of how much they missed them in space. There were few things to rival the awesome beauty of the planets and stars as well as how small the vastness of space made one feel, but the simplicity of the sunset drew him to it. It had seemed natural to him to lay his head on Heero's shoulder, to let his own mind drift and enjoy the feeling of being close to the other. Glancing up, he told the other flat out that he loved him and waited with a mixture of fear and hope for his reply.

Winter has frozen us
Let love take hold of us
(Cold cold cold)

The noncommittal `Hn' that he got in reply broke him. That was all he had to say. Hn. Depression and anger went to war, the rage finally overthrowing the other. Weak might have been something he often called himself, but weak he refused to be in this if it lost him Heero. Without allowing his mind to go with logic, Quatre pushed himself off of his sandy perch and onto the Japanese pilot. Smothering Heero's lips with his own, he saw the hand lash out, expecting fully the impact of it a bare second later. When the force of the other's hit never struck, the Arab relaxed some, letting his tongue lap at the other's lips longingly. They parted with a slow wariness, something he relished in his own manner. Nothing that came easy was ever worth it. His hands finally ran through the chocolate locks that he had longed to. His legs seemed to fit about the Wing pilot's body perfectly, as if they were made for each other, but he wanted Heero atop him. He wanted to give Heero a sign that he wanted him, to be his. To give him control seemed the best way. A rolling of their bodies presented that to the other.

Now we are shivering
Blue ice is glittering
(Cold cold cold)

Tugging their clothing off had been easy for Quatre. He had 29 sisters, and with that many people and so few bathrooms, one learned how to undress and dress quickly. A small tube of lip ointment was all he had in the way of lubricant, and according to Duo, one needed a lot of it. Bursting the tube in one hand, he wrapped that about Heero's length. There was no real reaction beyond the initial gasp and response to his kisses, fanning the fire of Quatre's doubt. Rushing more than he knew he should have, he thrust Heero within him, pain making him nearly blackout. An unintentional cry of hurt was wrung from him as he impaled himself. The struggle began in earnest now as Heero tried to wrench himself away. Sobbing in a combination of hurt from the physical and emotional, begging pleas fell from Quatre's lips for him to stay and let him have this one moment even if he didn't love or care for him. Afterwards, he could kill him if he wanted.

Cold is the colour of crystal the snowlight
That falls from the heavenly skies

Thrusting against Heero without any thought but to keep him there, the sheer weight of his now lover bore him down to the ground to stop. The gentle whispers that he heard from the other made no sense other than their tone, a soothing and calming one full of a depth of tenderness. Releasing some of his panicked hold on Heero, Quatre let himself be led by the soft motions. It was like rocking on the ocean's smaller waves until that place within him was brushed. Every stroke after that returned to that spot, firing him towards a too soon orgasm that he clung to Heero for, spilling himself across the flat stomache before him. Heero's body shuddered through his own, Quatre's own name reaching his ears. As the Japanese boy slid to be beside him, he tried to tell him everything again, beg him to understand until Heero's fingers touched his lips. The gaze meeting his own told him all he needed to know. Curling within the arms winding about him, Quatre lay in bliss. *Just hold me and let me feel safe and secure in your reach* he thought.

Catch me and let me dive under
For I want to swim in the pools of our eyes

*Just hold me*