Original source: www.pipeline.com/~monica/fanfics.htm
This is my first attempt at Gwing, and Yaoi, so bear w/me... All C&C welcome! Note that this is a warning... if you don't like yaoi stuff, don't read...
He is sitting on the grass. Expressionless as he watches the sun set, he ignores me. I sit next to him, and try to get him to talk, do *something* besides... besides what? He is doing what he has been trained to do- readying himself for battle, for the deaths, the killing. Who am I to say that he should emerge from the wall he has erected?
Still, I would not be me if I did not try. I start off with a loud comment. "So, Heero! Feeling better now that you destroyed a few mobile suits? How about some lunch? It's ready now-" He turns away from me, looking off into the horizon. Any more attempts to draw him out will not work- I can feel it. So, what can I do? Just sit there, I suppose, until he does something.
I watch as the blood-red sun sets in the west. The sun... it looks so different on the earth than it does on the colonies- just because it is the beautiful, proud earth. Our ancestral home, and our oppressors... How can something this beautiful cause my home so much pain?
That is why I'm a pilot. So that I can stop the pain, take it upon myself if I have to. The mask of the joker is on me- it is just not as literal as Trowa's. But Heero... why is he doing this? He has been trained as I have, and he has no conscience in battle. No emotion except for the frightening joy afterwards. What is his reason?
I cannot imagine anyone merely becoming such beings as ourselves on a whim... there must be a reason. Why become what we are- killers, spies, saboteurs- without a cause? I can fathom some of the others' reasons. Quatre fights for his family and Wufei for his honor, his strength. Trowa- he is a mystery like Heero...
But Heero- he is different, apart from us. He doesn't seem to truly be fighting for his colony the way we are. No passion, no ideals, no cause. Only death and killing- following orders. He is the perfect soldier. But is that truly all he is? Somehow, I can feel more from him.
I look at him, sitting with his back to me. He is tense, alert. Ready as always for any combat situation. Ready to kill or die. He does not seem to notice the beauty of the meadow around us, or the glory of the sun's death at our west except as logistics- where the best spots for a confrontation is, or where the sun will get into an enemy's eyes.
He is death incarnate, on the battlefield and off. And I... I am one who always courts death. How can I not find him attractive? Like a naked blade glinting in the sun- he is the symbol of all that I represent, without any pretense, any mask. How can I help needing him? He is beauty and pain... what else could I want?
He feels my eyes upon him- I can tell. He is tense and alert, ignoring me even more obviously then before. As if daring me to do, or say something more... But I do not. I am content to merely watch, want with my eyes. He may not want me here and probably cannot understand- but I can sit here forever like this.
No, not like this. I may be content to watch for a time but not like this. He does not see me, does not want to see me. I... I want him to acknowledge that I am here beside him. I want to be visible in his sight. It's an irrational wish, but how can I stop a wish like that?
Somehow, the sight of his back is starting to irritate me. A sudden urge rises up in me- to yell and scream, to do something to get his attention. I can't help it... I grab him by the shoulders, turning his face toward mine. I want to yell out at him to see me, notice me, but I kiss him instead. My lips are on his, my open eyes are staring into his. I want to drown into those deep brown depths...
I look and see his expression. His eyes are uncaring, unseeing. He is still ignoring me. I let him go, and turn away. I want to hide, run, kill him, me... I don't know. Why did I do such a thing? How could he not have seen me? Those cold, uncaring eyes- they are imprinted into my heart. I start to walk away, and then his quiet voice reaches my ears.
"Why did you do that for?" Uninterested, not particularly concerned. He is ice... I try to think of some joke, some smart remark- those come so easily to me most of the time. But as hard as I try, those laughing comments are out of my reach... they too have abandoned me. What can I say?
"No reason." No reason, but for the ache in my heart... He turns to me, voluntarily this time. We stand that way for a minute- I am frozen, and he does not seem to want to move. I feel the breeze as it blows through my hair, as it ruffles his. Finally, I break the tableau.
I turn to leave, to retreat, but I cannot. He has my hand, and will not let go. Startled, I turn back and look into his eyes. His eyes... they are not ice- not anymore. Instead, they are full of compassion. How is this possible, from the perfect soldier, the death-addicted person that I know he is? I may want him, but I also know his flaws.
He smiles, an expression full of gentleness- such kindness. He takes the hand that he is holding, and brings the inside of my wrist up to his lips. A soft touch, and then release. He is waiting for something... what? Me, I suppose. I look at his gentle expression for a time, before I undo my braid, letting my hair fall free.
He takes his hand, and runs it through my hair, untangling it. He uses that hand to reach and cup my chin. Then, a gentle kiss is laid upon my lips- a mere touch. His eyes are questioning, and I nod. The kiss deepens and his mouth opens, his tongue wishing entry. I open my mouth, and let my tongue spar with his, before all I can feel is that deep, wonderful kiss...
His hands are on my shirt, undoing my buttons. The shirt is off, and his hands are everywhere it had been... The feel of his touch all over my body- it is magic. His lips follow, soft butterfly touches that tantalize, making my skin hypersensitive to anything that he may do.
His raises his lips to steal one more kiss from mine, and I see his eyes once again. They are full of compassion, love- but I see more, now. That compassion is not for me, and neither is that love. That... that is the true reason that he fights- he was trained to be the perfect soldier, but they never truly burned out the innately compassionate child that he must have been. The true compassion that he must have felt- so that even now, after all the killing, he is able to look at the world in such a way.
I am hot- fire to his ice... and he is melting away. I... I am tired of death, and am glad I am not courting its full face today. Today, I want to affirm life. I look up at him, and I see that he knows what I am feeling now. Tired of death, of killing. Needing something to keep it away for a bit, before we have to go back and fight again. Because we will fight, for as long as we must- that is the way we have been trained.
He has removed my pants, and his clothes as well. I am passive, waiting... but I don't want to just be given a gift. I saw the pain in his eyes- the pain that he cannot acknowledge, for he would splinter his self- made image if he did so. The pain he must feel through his self-made shield of ice, that must stab at his heart every time... I see the pain still, through the love, and I want to make it go away.
I reach up, and touch his chest. Such strength, on such a small frame. I, also... we have both been called children, and they are right. We should not be forced to fight this war, but we must. We are what they made us, and part of that creation is that we may not, cannot stop the deaths. We must endure... But I don't want to think about that now.
Instead, I let my hands roam over his taut body. He is very relaxed- so unlike the way he had been before. He slowly moves me down onto the grass, where his lips are everywhere, and I am lost in a haze of pleasure. He reaches my penis, and then hesitates. He looks at me as if asking whether I am sure- as if my hardness did not tell him the answer...
I smile, and nod. He reaches down, and touches it softly, gently. But even that gentle touch is as if a bolt of lightning had gone through me. He puts his lips on my stomach, and then starts to kiss down, teasing me. I moan a little, as he reaches his goal, and then his lips are there, enveloping me...
I cannot help but lose control after a little while, and my seed erupts in his mouth as I cry out. Somehow, he swallows it all, and then comes up for air. I am about to apologize... I am a soldier, and I know what happens in the barracks. But I have never experienced anything like this first hand... not like this. But he understands, stops my babbling with a kiss. I taste myself on his lips, salty and strange.
I am amazed at his calmness, his gentleness. He is relaxed, almost happy. I realize why- he is indulging in something that he does not usually have access to- not sex, but life. Love, joy, peace- all the things that he must destroy, he is now creating it for me, and I want to create it for him...
He is still atop of me, so I get out from under him, and start attacking his vulnerabilities. His nipples are teased mercilessly by my tongue, making him groan. I move down and conquer still more territory, until he is shaking a little. I smile and go further until I reach my destination. I will show him how well I have learned his battle maneuvers.
He gasps as I take him in my mouth, returning his favor. I experiment a bit, trying to see how long I could make him last. I suck on him until he starts to breathe even more heavily then before, and then stop for a bit before I start again. He moans, and grabs at the grass. I take pity on his frenzied expression, and let him come. I try to swallow him as he did me- It is more difficult to do than I had thought...
We lie there on the grass, spent. I am, anyway- you can never tell with him. I ask him as we stare up at the starry sky, "Why?" He looks at me with the mask still off, with those strangely compassionate killer's eyes, and merely kisses my nose. He is about to start putting on his clothes, when I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and put my head on his chest. Wrapped around him, I listen to his heart. So steady, so calming...
He stops and waits for me to speak. I hesitate, and then whisper, "I know that you don't love me. You don't... so why? And what about Relena?" He looks at my serious expression, knowing that I will not be so easily sidetracked. He sighs and puts his arms around me as well, nestling my head on his chest.
"You were so lonely, behind that joker that you pretend to be. I know what it's like to feel that way- so full of death and hate, and wanting to get it all out. If I could do something about that, if I can relieve you of some of that... why not? I can trust you, and it's not like we're likely to survive very long- why shouldn't we let ourselves take comfort where we can?"
I feel the truth in his voice, in his touch. I know it too- how we are truly but dead men who are still animate... why not get what we can out of our life? I nod, a little relieved. before interjecting a little hesitantly, "What about Relena? I know that- anyone who's not blind can see..."
He looks away from me, to the starry sky. "She is not mine to have- What she and I have is something strange- it's a little incomprehensible to me. But... I don't think that she would mind us sharing comfort- getting ourselves able to fight without dying inside more than we have to, must. I feel no guilt about what we did." Then the wind blows even less gently upon us.
It is cold and we are naked- Doing what we did here was slightly impetuous, and more then a little stupid, I suppose. I shiver, and I tell him, "Let's get dressed before someone comes looking for us- or before we catch something nasty." I start to put on my pants and shirt, and I hear him do the same. I look around for the ribbon to tie my hair with, and cannot find it.
"Here." I see the ribbon in his hand, and am about to take it from him, before he stops me. He goes behind me and runs his fingers through my hair once more, before he starts to take bits of foliage out of it. I shiver, though not from the chill, biting air, as his fingers brush against my neck, followed by his lips. I can't help but laugh as I take the ribbon back from him to try to make some sort of braid from my wild, unruly mane.
I look at the beautiful earth night. So strange... would I have ever guessed while I had been on my colony that such things would happen to me? My colony... not my home? No, not really my home. I would die, and will kill for all the people there. But for myself, this place was my home now. The earth- where we are Death, where I found a companion in my fight. Where I found something akin to love...