Title: "The Evening Speaks"
Author: s1ncer1ty
Rating: PG-13
Coupling: I'd prefer not to tell. If it bothers you that much,
then move on to another fic with ample warnings. It's shounen-ai,
though. Flamers will be summarily placed into the black hole that
is Trowa's clown pants (scary thought, ne?).
Recommended Listening: 'Nightswimming' by R.E.M.
---
This evening heralds the second night of the full moon -- when the satellite is at its peak of luminescence. Though it's nearing only midnight, the witching hour, mostly everyone in the safehouse is already asleep, exhausted from the day's fighting. Even I'm feeling worn out, but the confining walls of the small cabin make the summer air too sweltering for a decent night's rest. On tiptoe-feet, I slip through the darkness, past the quiet, huddled forms of the other pilots in the throes of midnight dreams.
Outside, it's moderately brighter, the fat circle of the moon casting a relatively bright light across the unmoving forest. As I move down the path leading to the reservoir, as I've done so many nights before when the demons threaten to overwhelm, there is only the rustle of leaves beneath my boots and the expanse of stars to keep me company. Though I usually prefer the company of as many people as possible over my own thoughts, I'm not lonely tonight. The sweet anticipation of the cool reservoir water keeps the darkness at bay for the time being. I know that I can be as loud as I want, with civilization so many miles away, but tonight I want nothing to break the peacefulness of the evening. I don't want noise to keep me company, for once.
Nearing the break in the path that leads to the reservoir, I'm suddenly glad that I've kept as quiet as I have. As I look out over the expanse of water, shimmering in the soft moonlight, I see your pale figure floating atop the surface. There's barely a ripple surrounding you, so still and balanced even in the water, as you stare unblinking to the stars overhead. I can tell by the arch of your legs and the sallow color of your chest that you're completely unclothed, allowing the water to lap freely over your body. I freeze, hoping the blackness of my clothing and the shadow of the trees conceal me from your emerald eyes.
As I watch, you close your eyes and slowly exhale completely, allowing the water to envelop you into its dark depths. The soft flow of your chestnut hair surrounds your head like a halo before you disappear completely beneath the surface. I start counting the seconds ... five ... ten ... twenty ... I've reached forty-five by the time I begin to grow concerned, seeing no movement of the water or air bubbles near where you sank. I'm about to bolt down the path and jump in after you when you break though the surface with a desperate gasp, taking several panting breaths to fill your lungs with air again. My own shoulders shake as I fight to silently return oxygen to my body. Funny, I don't remember when I stopped breathing.
And then, without warning, you're a body in motion. Unknowing that you're being watched, you slip beneath the water again. Your feet rise awkwardly in an underwater handstand before toppling across the surface with a light splash. A few paddling strokes, and you move out deeper, giving yourself ample room to flip beneath the surface. In these moments, you cast the war aside just for a little while, you shed the coldness that normally surrounds you, in order to play as a normal human being our age should do.
I smile gently as I watch the lithe beauty of your pale form coupled with an uncharacteristic clumsiness of a body more accustomed to space than to water. I'm enthralled by the splash of waves that surround you as you slide through the water, free of inhibitions. Another twisted flip beneath the surface, and your head pops up, your sodden bangs streaming wildly down half your face. An uncontrollable snicker escapes me at the sight of your normally impeccable hair in such a wild state.
All too suddenly, you snap your eyes in my direction, their once playful green dulling to a smouldering cautiousness. Unable to shed the soldier's training, you know you're in a vulnerable position, and you lower yourself into the water to make yourself a smaller target. But not before hissing, "Who's there?"
Slowly, knowing that you're dangerous when cornered, I step through the clearing towards the reservoir, raising both my hands in the air in attrition. Although I hate to ruin the moment, I realize that a joke might put you more at ease, making it easier to realize that I'm not an enemy waiting in ambush.
I smirk and reluctantly mutter, "Well, well, look what we have here. Two moons out in one night. Only I can't tell which is brighter, oh sunless one."
The predatory gleam fades from your eyes, first replaced by quiet relief, then by an unexpected embarrassment. You rise from the water to stand waist-deep, and although it's too dark to tell, I know a thin blush has settled in your cheeks. "I was just on my way out, anyway." You glance furtively to your neatly folded pile of clothes at the edge of the shore.
"You don't have to leave on my account," I say casually, stripping the dark shirt from my chest and tossing it haphazardly. "In fact, it might be best if you stay. You wouldn't want me to get a cramp and drown, ne?"
"If you think you're going to get a cramp, you shouldn't swim," you reply softly.
I shrug and hook my thumbs in the beltloops of my pants, thrusting them down in one swift movement. I only allow your eyes a brief moment to trail over my naked body before I take a running leap into the reservoir, landing beside you with a tremendous splash.
Breaking the surface, I beam a wide grin to you as you wipe water from your eyes and face. Your eyes narrow, and I begin to think you may very well deck me for it. Before I know it, your hand suddenly rears back and thrusts a wave of water in my direction, hitting me straight in the eyes.
"Oh, is that how this game is played, then?" I say, grinning menacingly as I use both hands to splash you hard.
And so all-out chaos ensues -- the reservoir jumps with a fury of flying water and tangled limbs. Despite the hand held before my face, a torrent of water still seems to make its way into my nose, down my throat, settling into my lungs. I'm barely able to breathe as I vainly attempt to retaliate. This time, the fight isn't in a familiar mobile suit, and the ammunition isn't as certain as bullets or beam-powered weaponry. This time, there are no colonies at stake, and no real reason to fight -- save for, perhaps, pride and to determine who's truly the king of the water.
In the middle of the fray, you wrap your arms around my torso, pinning me down with your weight. I feel your hot breath on my shoulder, the jerking rise and fall of your chest from the exertion.
"Do you give?" you whisper in my ear.
"Never!" I return, twisting my legs around yours in hopes of taking you off-balance beneath the surface. But, almost as if to mock me, you remain standing, your feet firmly planted against the soft sand at the bottom of the reservoir.
Your strong arms hold me fast, despite my squirming, until I finally settle down, wondering what you'll do with me now. Your next move takes me completely off guard -- instead of ducking me under or splashing me further, however, you rest your chin gently against my shoulder. When I gather my senses enough to lean my head to yours, you relax your grip on me just enough so I can bring my hands up and wrap them over your arms.
"It's a nice night," I say softly.
A contented murmur from you is all that greets my ears. I feel a couple strands of your hair spill across your face to tickle my shoulder. Already your embrace is becoming familiar to me, even though we've never been close before -- the vast difference in our battle tactics have never permitted us to work together extensively. But now, I savor the feel of your chest rising and falling against my back, the chill of your breath against my wet shoulder.
Then you squeeze my shoulders one last time in a light hug and draw away from me. I open my eyes and turn my head towards you, but you gently place your fingers against my jaw to keep me from looking back. Beneath the water, I feel a soft tug as you pull the rubber band from the base of my braid and begin to unravel my hair. Within seconds, my hair is free, floating around me in a wide circle.
"I'm never going to be able to get a brush through my hair tonight," I remark softly, smirking.
You don't say a word, but, as if in response, you slide your fingertips through the strands of hair located beneath the water's surface. Again I turn around to face you, and this time you don't restrain me. Your eyes are locked, fascinated, on the fan of unbound locks surrounding me under the water. Your fingers test the current, swirling my hair around as if it were a playtoy. I lift a hand to stroke your cheek, and you jerk your head towards me, surprised.
"Having fun?"
Ashamed, you tilt your eyes to the surface of the water as your hands fall from my hair. I almost feel my heart break as I watch you, the boy who has learned to fear the simple pleasures. With a very light frown, I clasp your fingers in mine and guide them back to me. Your emerald-green eyes meet mine hesitantly, as if to ask, 'Is it okay?' Hopefully, the smile I give you is reassurance enough.
You're almost shy now as you gingerly draw your fingers through my hair. Your own bangs, though wet, tumble before your eyes to shade half your face from me, and I reach across to push them away. I want to see fully the bright green of your eyes, muted slightly by the moon's glow.
Slowly, I tilt my chin up, bringing my face inches from yours. A soft fear lights in your eyes, bringing a slight wrinkle to your brow, and I give you a small smile. Your chest stills, your breath caught in your throat, and I close the distance to draw your lips to mine. Simple, gentle, I pull away after a few seconds.
I briefly trail my fingers across your cheek, and I slip my arms around your waist, closing you in a quiet embrace.
"You're shaking," I whisper, somewhat alarmed at the minute, but uncontrollable shivering that overtakes your body. Your back breaks out into gooseflesh beneath my hands.
"I don't mean to," you return in a soft, apologetic voice.
"Well, you're probably just cold," I remark, forcing a flippant tone to my voice. "We should get out before you turn blue."
Your arms tighten around my body, your head shaking against my shoulder. "I'm not cold. I want to stay."
Smiling softly, I nod and release you from my embrace. "Lie down," I whisper. "Let go."
Though confused at first, you inevitably close your eyes, pushing off from the bottom, and allow your body to float to the surface. Closing your eyes, you appear worried until I edge behind you and twine my arms around your chest. My hair, swirling beneath the water's surface, encircles your shoulders like a veil. Together, we look to the skies and quietly watch the passage of the stars overhead. For the longest time, I keep you deliberately close to me, and I keep deliberately silent. No words are needed to gain your attention now.
At some point in the night, we make our way to shore and lounge out across our discarded clothes, even if you are a little hesitant to allow me to see your gorgeous bare form as you exit the reservoir. I sit up straight and let you lie across my lap. For a while, you sleep, and even I think I doze off for a few hours. But as the burgeoning light of day finally breaks through the horizon, I rub my eyes and shake your shoulders. Ever-trained as a mercenary, you awaken immediately.
"What is it?"
I point towards the horizon, where the sun can be seen breaking through the trees across the still water of the reservoir. Thin streams of bright orange rifle through your dry, fine hair, surrounding it with a halo of fire. For a few moments, you're quiet as you take in the sight of the Earth sunrise, but eventually you let out a soft sigh.
"I spoke to Heero earlier in the evening. We're moving on," you state solemnly. "We're returning to space."
"I was getting stir-crazy here, anyway," I state casually, even though my heart is sinking over the prospect of returning to battle. "There's only so much you can take of being cramped in that small cabin with the two most sociable guys in the galaxy and Quatre."
You shrug, a thin veil of hair -- shining copper in the early morning sunlight -- tumbling across your eyes. "I'd rather not leave. I've grown to like this place."
"Then we'll come back once the war is over, if we haven't managed to self-destruct by then," I state, forcing a laugh to my lips. "Besides, we've got one more night here. Let's make it a date to go swimming again tonight, once the others are asleep."
"A date?" you whisper, tilting your head back and staring at me with wide eyes.
I trace a finger down your jawline and nod. "Don't stand me up. You'd hate to see what I did to the last boy who stood me up."
In the depths of your eyes, I see a nervous smile that you
don't have the strength to bring to your lips. And so, as I've
done for so many others caught in the web of this terrible war,
I smile for you, hoping that it's enough.