Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A World in a Grain of Sand ❯ Dreaming ( Chapter 12 )

Author: Keiran

Title: A World in a Grain of Sand 12/?

Pairings: 1+2, mentioned past not-exactly-consensual-sex

Rating: R overall, for no apparent reason.

Genre: Romance, mild angst, historical sort of fantasy.

Warnings: Shounen-ai, fluff. WAFF

Archive: my site: the URL is on my profile page. If you want it, drop me a line. ^_^
Notes: Not much this time - thanks to everybody who reviewed. ^___^ I was jumping up and down after each and every review. I hope I managed to get back to everybody (who provided an e-mail, at least), and if not, thank you again, from the bottom of my heart.

Special Message To Suzzette: I'm afraid there will be no Relena-bashing. She will be making an appearance later, but she will be nice and well-loved. Buuut, Quatre is taking over the bashing department, largely.

Big thanks to Sundaire, for betaing this fic. <bows>

***

Years of waking up minutes before sunrise take their toll, but surprisingly it wasn't the sunrise that woke Duo. The chestnut-haired healer shot up, as if bitten by a bug, panting slightly - he was pale and shaking. His eyes opened abruptly and the first thing he was aware of was, ironically, the great general. The healer gulped nervously when he realized he had inadvertently turned around in his sleep, so that he was now facing the man.

It had been so long since he last had that dream. Even with Heero's constant presence over the past months, those dreams had rarely come. Actually, not once for the past thirty days. Duo forced himself not to think about it, but the harder he tried, the harder it turned out to be. Even more so when he looked at the general.

Heero's expression was relaxed and unguarded; his lips were curled in a half smile, which on the usually stern general looked positively dashing. His dark hair, usually shading his dark eyes, now hung handsomely on his forehead, allowing the rest of the general's face to be seen. His chest rose and fell with gentle breaths. When the healer's eyes fell on Heero's calloused hands, however, Duo had to suppress a violent shiver.

He remembered those hands from his dreams. What was worse, he remembered them from reality as well. They held his wrists in a steel grip above his head, sliding his robe down his body, slipping under the warm cloth. They caressed his pale skin, making his body shiver in desire, making his body forget what he wanted, making it follow its primal urges. The hands were followed by warm lips and tongue once the violet-eyed man was too far gone to try and break free. He never could resist for too long. All the lessons in self-control he took as a child became nothing - he couldn't fight once the passion in his veins awoke. He couldn't even stop it from waking. His body would always win in the end, no matter how much he might have wanted it not to.

Perhaps that was why he hated it that much. As irrational as it sounded, Duo felt that by disallowing it physical fulfilment, he could somehow get back at it for betraying him to the general. It was a ridiculous frame of mind, especially since as a healer he was perfectly aware that some instincts are stronger than the mind, in teenaged boys above all. Like the one that demanded release once the body was stimulated. However, the dreams, when they came, never failed to bring a tear of frustration to his eyes. Not that the tear would be obvious to anyone, but it was there, Duo knew. Nonetheless, he was too proud to allow himself to cry, ever. No one, save for his beloved brother, had ever seen his tears.

This night wasn't particularly bad. It was just much more vivid than usual, perhaps because the man he dreamt about was so near. It was also painfully obvious that he wanted to get him back into his bed, which Duo was rather determined to prevent. At the same time, however, the healer started to realize that the general was intelligent and well-versed, something he tried hard not to notice five years ago. The latter was one of the few things Duo solely missed at the temple. Of course, all of the healers were intelligent and educated, but he was the only one educated in such a broad range of subjects, which basically meant that there was only a limited number of topics he could discuss with others, save for healing matters. Heero was swiftly becoming an irreplaceable companion.

And yet the reason he felt so disturbed seemed to be different. It was the usual dream alright, but it was almost as if something had changed. Duo couldn't pinpoint the feeling exactly, but he knew something was different from usual. He decided to stop bothering for a while and get up.

Soon after he finished his early morning exercises the rest of the camp came to life. A fire was lit so that everyone could work off the early morning chill before leaving. Heero seemed a little irritated to be woken up so early, and he didn't appear exactly there when the party prepared to set off. He kept yawning, as if to mark his displeasure, but to his credit, he made the effort to be courteous to everyone. Duo watched him with a small amount of amusement when he went to see if the horses were ready after packing stuff he thought he might need during the day; his walk that of a practiced somnambulist. The healer very carefully avoided any contact with the general this morning (save for eye contact), fearing that his own reaction to any touch, even a casual brush, might result in a serious injury.

"Everyone set? Then let's go," Tsubarov exclaimed finally. The violet-eyed healer watched the group leave the clearing one by one, taking the horses with them. The last one to leave was the general, who stood still for a brief moment looking at Duo. The man looked up from his spot beside the injured and smiled tentatively in return.

'It was just a dream,' he told himself. 'Just a dream…' Unfortunately, dreams are not something that can be just pushed out of mind for an indefinite amount of time. They come back again and again during the most inappropriate moments. The very same holds true for unwanted thoughts and images - the more they're pushed away the more vengeful they become upon their return. For the longest time what disturbed him most about the dreams was the fact that he didn't find the situations unpleasant at all. In fact, more than once the images under his eyelids were more arousing than terrifying. They usually treaded the fine line between pleasing and frightening, managing to stay within the 'emotionally painful' category most of the time.

'And here I was thinking I finally left my pride behind,' Duo thought humourlessly.

The violet-eyed healer sighed. He knew that dreams of this kind didn't just go away. He pondered just how, in the present circumstances, he could get rid of them, and suddenly a brilliant idea occurred to him. He shot a thoughtful glance at Walker.

"Would you be all right if I left you alone for a short while?" Duo asked.

***

Heero walked through the forest staring at everything he passed wide-eyed. He had no idea it was actually that beautiful in there! Five minutes before, if he was asked what the woods looked like, his answer would surely contain 'violet' and 'chestnut.' That was not to say that he didn't pay attention to his surroundings - he could find his way to the temple with ease, if needed. He might not be able to recall what shape or colour the tentative first flowers were, but that wasn't essential, was it?

Without the company of the slender healer Heero was able to immerse himself in his work fully. It was only when Tsubarov called for a break that he realized he completely forgot to pack some lunch with him. He groaned silently. This wasn't good. A whole day of swinging an axe was tiring - even to a soldier like himself. With any luck he'd be able to make it to the camp on his own feet. He swore silently, picking up his pack to fish out his sweat cloth.

There was something foreign in the bag. Heero reached inside carefully and pulled out a small, neat package, wrapped in white linen. Wiping his face on his cloth, the general carefully unravelled the pack.

Inside laid two chucks of bread and some dried meat. It took the great tactician a whole two minutes of staring before he figured out what a pack of food was doing in his bag. He did eventually; after all, the options were rather limited.

"Thank you, Duo," he muttered to himself softly. He smiled, chewing the bread thoughtfully. Mission Progress: Satisfying.

The rest of the day wasn't as eventful for Heero. It involved a lot of axe-swinging and tree-roping - nothing that could effectively steer the man's mind away from the braided healer. It was confusing, the way they interacted most of the time. They talked a lot recently, but every time the general tried to steer the conversation onto something more personal the healer would either change the topic or leave. Of course, Heero wasn't the greatest diplomat in the world, but he knew a dodge when he saw one.

Heero worked off his frustrations on the innocent tree he'd been told to cut.

***

It was nearing sunset when the group of men returned to their camp, the horses dragging the fallen trees behind them. They were greeted by mouth-watering smells coming from the cauldron hung by the fire.

In Heero's case, it was a mouth-watering vision of Duo with his long hair down, which was bound only by a thin black ribbon. It was enough to leave him staring, dumbfounded. The long strands were glittering, even in the half-light, almost as if light was attracted to the chestnut head. Heero definitely was.

Duo hummed to himself while stirring the contents of the cauldron. Thank heavens for springs, he thought. There was nothing like a good - even if freezing - bath to get rid of the day's tension. Or night's, in some cases. Besides, he hated the feeling of his hair being dirty. It made him feel as if someone had poured a bucket of grease over him. Of course, because his hair needed to be washed frequently it meant he had to put up with a loose flowing cloud behind his back for a longer time (very bothersome during hot days), but he got used to it. Duo absentmindedly checked if his hair was dry enough to be braided yet, watching the steam flow from the cauldron leisurely.

He was rudely woken from his daydream when he suddenly found himself surrounded by twenty drooling men, each holding a wooden dish virtually in his face. He bit back a smirk and started filling the bowls, one by one. In the end, he filled Walker's dish and made sure that the man was comfortable enough to eat.

"When did you learn how to cook?" the healer heard suddenly when he was helping himself to the stew. He turned quickly and sure enough, there was Heero, watching him like a hawk. Strangely enough, not like a half-starved hawk. Duo put a tiny smile on his lips.

"It is compulsory for healers," he answered.

"Cooking?"

"Well, no, brewing is more like it, but they are rather similar. I mean, the rules are virtually the same: you see what you have and you need to know how long it needs to be cooked to produce certain effects."

Heero shot a dubious look at his bowl. "And what effect would this… concoction have?"

"Oh, that depends," Duo answered cheerfully. "If you eat an apple afterwards you might get indigestion. If you eat a tomato, you might get a rash." He watched Heero swallow another mouthful. "Theoretically speaking it should be harmless."

"Theoretically?"

"Well, you never know what the rabbit might have swallowed before it was killed," Duo answered, chewing a piece of meat thoughtfully. "Some of the healers believe that a body killed in a violent manner produces a poison, which makes it dangerous to eat, as opposed to the common misunderstanding that animals, unlike humans, do not suffer when they are killed." The general stared. The question 'How would you know if people suffer' froze on his lips as Duo continued. "I'm a healer, Heero, not a priest," he said calmly. "I know how to kill."

The general continued to look at his companion incredulously. It was rather hard to wrap his mind around the idea. Heero tried to picture the man with a bloody sword on a battlefield, but had no such luck. The image just didn't work. Maybe, just maybe, he could imagine Duo practicing a routine with a sword. But never killing.

It wasn't what healers did, was it?

***TBC***