Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Amour ❯ On Location ( Chapter 3 )

Amour

 

Chapter 3

 

By Zapenstap

 

 

Relena rose early enough the next morning that she wandered down to the main floor of the house before her household staff had arrived to light the rooms and begin making breakfast. It was quiet as she padded downstairs in her slippers and robe, quiet and empty, with far too much space for one person. She strolled into the dining room still thinking about the previous evening, hoping to make herself a cup of tea before she was forced to take a shower and prepare for her early morning meetings.

 

Upon entering the kitchen, Relena discovered that she was not the only person awake at such an hour. The other person awake—other than Relena's small security team—was Candice Mae, Manager of the House, who sat on a chair by the mantel with her graying hair tied in a bun and her own cup of tea by her elbow.

 

Relena's mansion was large enough that it was practically its own business. The property belonged to the Darilan family, the deed transferred specifically to Relena by her mother, for Relena had given away everything that had once been Peacecraft when she officially reverted to being a Darilan. The staff was familiar with the property and the Darilan family both, having served members of the family who had lived in this house for generations. The only notable absence was that of Pagan, who had died two summers ago. Thinking of Pagan still saddened Relena, for he had been a loyal friend and dependable servant of the Peacecraft family. He was unique and impossible to replace, but Candice Mayer was unique in her own way and she knew her job.

 

“Good morning,” Relena said as she entered.

 

The older woman didn't even look up from her morning paper. “Who is he?” she asked, and calmly took a sip her tea. Relena froze in place, startled, but when the matronly woman she turned to face her she only added, “The man you took to bed last night."

 

From anyone else it would have been a rude question, but not if you knew Candice Mae. Candice Mae had been in this mansion since before Relena was a baby. She had seen three generations of Darilans grow up in this house, witnessed many broken hearts and attended more than a few marriages. Though she was notoriously conservative in her old age after the death of her husband, it was rumored that she had had a wild and passionate youth, and she never commented on the romantic choices of other people. The way she looked at Relena was point-blank and knowing, knowing that Relena had slept with someone last night, and possibly even knowing the circumstances of the arrangement. There was no reprimand in her expression. Relena was a grown woman, and if anyone knew how hard Relena worked and how little time she had for herself much less for a man in her life, it was Candice Mae.

 

“Heero,” Relena replied simply, knowing it was a waste of time and energy to evade.

 

Candace Mae nodded. “I like to know who to expect in this house,” was all she said, still without judgment or suggestion. “This is the same boy as before?”

 

Relena nodded again.

 

“I'll see that he's welcomed here,” she said simply. She took a sip of her tea and set her empty cup on the platter before turning a sympathetic look to Relena. “Be careful, my dear. The heart is a fragile organ.”

 

Relena didn't have to be told twice, and Candice Mae didn't have to inquire any further about it. They both knew the situation and Candice Mae could be trusted to make sure everyone in the household knew what they need to know and only what they needed to know. Relena wouldn't have to say a word about it, or make any kind of defense. In this household, at least among the staff, the word of Candice Mae was law.

 

As for the heart being fragile, Relena knew that too. Candice Mae had never met Heero before, but she knew about him. During Heero and Relena's past relationship Heero had never come to her house or bothered to meet her relations, but Relena had been dreamy-eyed and wistful enough to spend her time gazing out of windows. Candice Mae had not been shy in telling her that she was a fool girl in love, no doubt with a bigger fool. Relena hadn't listened at the time. It had almost been like she and Heero were seeing each other in an isolated bubble, a kind of surreal, fairy-like place where they could pretend that they were the only people that existed and where anything was possible. Or that's how Relena had felt anyway. When Heero revealed his inability to do more than protect her, it was to Candice Mae that Relena had cried until she had no more tears to weep.

 

As Relena poured herself a cup of tea, the old woman smiled at her from over the rim of her own cup. “He must be good,” she said, and had the pleasure of seeing Relena's face brighten to a shade of crimson pink.

 

Later that day, when she sat alone in her office, Relena thought about how good it had been. It was amazing, really. Where the efforts of other men only made Relena smile, Heero could heat her blood with his eyes. The touch of his hands on her body left illusionary burns on her skin. Last night he had come to her after dark and left before midnight, but for the time he was there, he might as well have been the only person who existed. Truthfully, it had been a fantasy of hers, as he had so sharply surmised, and the eroticism of trapping and undressing her the way he had, of telling her what to do in her own bedroom, of giving her two orgasms in two different positions, did not easily leave her mind.

 

She had never experienced sex like that before. She certainly hadn't thought she would like it quite so much. There was something unmistakably addictive about Heero, though, or there was for her anyway. He hovered on the edge of her thoughts like a shadow, and whenever she allowed him to get close he consumed her for a short, euphoric time in a delicious darkness. It wasn't an evil darkness; just mysterious, a deep seriousness overlaid by a quiet, deceivingly dangerous air. And pervasive through it all was a glimmering vein of tender, almost vulnerable kindness. That was Heero.

 

Relena shook her head. She had work to do, too much to allow herself even a few moments of wayward thinking of this sort. No matter how incredible Heero made her feel or how comfortable she felt admitting it, their dalliance could only be temporary. Their connection was more than a primal, physical need, but it wasn't love—he had told her he could never love her—and thinking about her affection for him in such lyrical, metaphorical ways would only confuse the issue and complicate their present understanding. Therefore, she had to stop it.

 

If she had known that Heero was thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him, she might have felt a deeper pang of warning.

 

 

 

 

“Hey, you! Yeah, you on the plane. Are you the pilot?”

 

The wing of the plane under Heero's feet echoed as he walked along the frame back toward the cockpit. Planes in a hangar always looked both larger and heavier than they did in the sky or on a runway, especially when people were moving around them in various stages of routine maintenance checks, but this remodeled fighter plane would sleek and small and—to Heero—graceful no matter where it was seen, especially devoid of weapons as all planes were built nowadays. A steel bird.

 

The man that had shouted waved at him with both arms. Heero leapt to the ground, landing lightly on his feet even in heavy steel-toed boots, and closed the distance between himself and the other man unhurriedly, his stride carrying him in measured paces that spoke volumes of control. Around the hangar, men in work uniforms, some carrying tools and some carrying clipboards and pens, turned around curiously to watch.

 

“Look,” the man who was directing his mission said in an almost perfunctory tone of voice, “I know you value your privacy, but if you're going to pilot for us we need to know who you're working for.”

 

“I'm not working for anybody,” Heero told him. “Don't worry. There's no liability.”

 

The man's face paled slightly. “It's not that,” he said, sounding a little nervous. “We don't anticipate that anything will happen to you. It's just policy if we're going to pay you and entrust you with one of our planes that we know a little about your background.”

 

“I've already told you what you need to know.”

 

The man had seemed deadly curious since Heero applied for the job, especially when Heero demonstrated working knowledge of how to operate, maintain and even customize even the most intricate cockpit systems in aerospace technology. At Heero's age, it was almost unheard of.

 

“You have the highest references,” the other man assured him hastily. “When you showed up, I wasn't sure, but we placed a call to the ESUN Central Defense and I'm told that Colonel Une personally recommended you. So you see, all your references check out. It's just…” He frowned dubiously. “Who are you?”

 

“I'm just the guy you hired to pilot the plane,” Heero said, and declined to continue the conversation further by passing by his director on the left. “If it bothers you, find someone else.”

 

The man called after him, his raised voice echoing in the public space of the hangar. “You leave for Malaysia in three days!” When Heero didn't turn around or make any kind of response, the fellow added “enjoy yourself on your down time!” as if in some attempt to connect to Heero's sociable side.

 

Enjoy himself. Heero grunted as he gathered his coat and headed out.

 

Leaving the hangar always left Heero feeling somewhat nostalgic and regretful. It wasn't that he cared either way for the technicians—in fact, he would probably have preferred to handle the maintenance himself if that were an option—but he loved the planes. They had both shaped and saved his life. In a way, they were all he knew about living, or at least all he knew about an aspect of life that he enjoyed in a simple, liberating way. There was something about piloting aircraft that made him feel free, even when he was mired in the worst or most dangerous missions. Even now.

 

Of course, flying wasn't the only thing Heero did. His work was independently contracted and he took whatever was offered and did whatever needed doing. Occasionally he would do favors for people he knew in the ESUN Defense Core or its counter agencies in the Colonies but for the most part he sought work by keeping abreast of Peace-threatening situations and offering his services to interested parties. Though the Earth Sphere was officially united as one nation and no more weapons of war were being mass manufactured by war-mongering parties, there were still opportunists who desired to retaliate against opposition through violence and other means of disruption. Such disturbances were caused by the weak and the selfish, but weakness and selfishness could never be purged from humanity, and there would always be a need for those willing to protect potential victims from such people.

 

For Heero, that trajectory of thought—the one that sustained the purpose of his existence—led indubitably to Relena. Relena was the only human being whose humanity reflected what he had always thought was impossible in one person. She was strong; she fought battles in board rooms tougher than he fought everyday, and her victories resulted in real changes being made in the world. And she was selfless; her life's work sprang from a desire to serve other people, to bring peace and comfort to other people, even to forgive other people.

 

He was having second thoughts about their arrangement. Even though she claimed not to love him as she once had, he knew it was unwise to do with her what he wanted to do, what he had done with her last night and what he still wanted to do now.

 

Of course it was amazing the way she responded to his touch. Her pleasure at his command was intoxicating, but like a drug it numbed his ability to reason. She seemed willing to acquiesce to his needs when he demanded it and even admitted that she had them herself, but that wasn't fair to her. It didn't seem right.

 

He felt a fool for taking things this far. He couldn't give her anything but longing for what he could never fulfill. She couldn't give him anything but regret. In the long run this was a mistake. He knew it as surely as he longed to touch her again. The right thing to do was to walk away, to leave her to focus on her important work and to give her a chance of finding someone else, someone who could make her dreams come true. For Heero it was a clear trajectory, a straight line from point A to point B, a line he had avoided thinking through to its endgame before now. It was because he enjoyed his sexual encounters with Relena. He also enjoyed her company. But in continuing to do what they had twice now they would inevitably grow attached to each other. Despite his desire, he had to protect her first, and protecting had always meant keeping a safe distance. The distance now was not safe enough.

 

The technicians in the hangar watched the young man standing in the sunlight just outside the hangar, standing straight and still, lithe and slender as a steel blade, hands relaxed and his sides and face turned toward a blue sky that his eyes seemed to penetrate by sheer force of will.

 

When he moved again, it was toward Relena's office.

 

Relena hadn't been working for very long when a knock resounded on her door. A moment later her secretary poked her head through the door and announced that Relena had an unscheduled visitor.

 

When Heero walked into the room, dressed in a black jacket and jeans and seemingly unconcerned by appearing in street clothes in her private office, Relena didn't know what to say. They stared at each other in silence, sharp blue eyes meeting sharp blue eyes in a direct line that seemed stretched as taut as the sexual tension that pervaded the air between them. Immediately she knew why he had come.

 

Heero looked away first, glancing at the papers on her desk. “What are you working on?” he asked.

 

“A way to dissolve a dispute in Malaysia,” she replied. “There's discontent among the populace that could turn ugly if it's not settled diplomatically.”

 

He didn't say anything. She doubted it was what was really on his mind.

 

“Heero,” she said. “I have an appointment in little over an hour and I have some work to do with this before they arrive. Is there something you want to say?”

 

Her eloquence and formality failed her on the last few syllables, when he lifted his head again to meet her in the eyes. There was something sharp in them, something cold and determined that was giving way to something else, something fierce and demanding, something that made her swallow, her skin heating under her coat and skirt, feeling dizzy as if she had been sitting for too long in the sun. Taking a sharp breath, he looked away hastily, blushing in spite of herself.

 

Heero looked away too. Clearly it hadn't been the message he meant to convey or to feel. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he moved resolutely around her desk to stand beside her. He looked at her as if he wanted to say something and she leaned back away from him to give him room to speak, but instead he turned away from her, shifting his attention to the papers on her desk. She could tell he was familiar with the material from the way his eyes jumped from one stack to the next, clearly sorting them the way she had sorted them. “I wouldn't do it this way,” he said after a tense moment, gesturing at the stack nearest to him and furthest from her. She pushed her chair back and stood, leaning over his arm to see, wondering why just standing beside him could arouse her desire so thoroughly and why she was encouraging it by moving closer.

 

“That's the one I was already going to change,” she said.

 

Their bodies hovered inches from touching, their arms crossing where their hands had landed on the table. Heero raised his head again, brown locks of hair falling down to frame his face as their eyes met. At first they stared at one another with steely resistance, fighting to maintain integrity, to prove that they were strong enough to do what was right for the other. But as the contest lengthened, something like longing must have come into each of their expressions because they both started breathing heavier.

 

“Relena, you're…” Heero trailed off, but she knew what he meant because she felt it too. She could see him becoming confused, weighing in his mind the clash of feelings, fighting the mixed-up desires, sorting out the fear and temptation that was both sanctity for the soul and the precipice poised over destruction.

 

She solved the problem for him.

 

Reaching up with one hand, she touched the cheek furthest from her reach and turned her face toward her. As her hand slid around the back of Heero's neck, she rose onto her toes, her lips meeting Heero's in a kiss that was both surrender and assault. Even the initial unyielding taste of his lips compressed something deep in her middle until she shivered and released him. Heero said nothing, nor did he move. They remained with their heads almost touching, breathing each other's air, noses touching cheeks, every movement down to the flutter of an eyelash perceptible to the other.

 

At length, Heero wrapped both hands around Relena's hips, his fingers sliding down the sides of her legs, caressing her thighs as he closed his eyes and breathed.

 

“I don't mind,” she said in halting, breathy tones that demanded as much as they yielded, her eyes fluttering open and closed. “Even if I get hurt, I want to be happy for now. Please…” She ran her palms up and down his arms in a gesture of desire she couldn't suppress even if her mind assured her it was the best way to protect her heart. After establishing territory on his person, her hands traveled down to his hips and slid around to grasp his backside, applying pressure to pull his hips toward her.

 

“Relena…” There was a bit of a strain in Heero's voice, and as he pulled her close enough to where he could feel her entire body up against his front, she realized his voice wasn't the only part of him that was beginning to strain. As she leaned against his chest she felt his lips on her neck and his fingers kneading into her clothes along her spine. Slipping his hands under blouse, he worked his fingers under the strap of her bra until he could massage the smooth, bare skin of her back. His kisses on her neck and shoulders became urgent, his touches more demanding, and she responded by reaching down to pull off his belt and unbutton his pants.

 

He glanced at the door and then at the clock. When he looked back at her for an answer, she nodded without speaking. Heero closed his eyes, allowing his fantasies to run loose as Relena dropped his trousers and reached under the elastic of his boxer-briefs to take hold of his length. It hardened and throbbed hot and smooth in her hand, heavy and pulsating slightly in response to her touch. She began moving her hand up and down the shaft. Heero hung his head, his breathing deepening to heaves that moved his whole chest in time with the rhythm she was creating with her hands. Her own body warmed in response, a soft sound of longing escaping her throat as she watched Heero succumb to a sensation that was both pleasure and aching need.

 

Heero's hand pulled out from under her blouse and unzipped her skirt, releasing the material so that it fell to the ground around her heeled shoes. He played with removing her underwear, one of his hands caressing her inner thighs and then applying pressure at the apex between her legs, rubbing her through the material and arousing her to his need. It felt so good. Relena gasped as Heero's fingers stimulated her clitoris, biting her lip against a rasping whimper that threatened to discover them. The movement of her hand stroking his arousal faltered as his fingers slipped under the material of her underwear and plunged into her opening, first testing how wet she was and then pushing and pulling at her walls until her knees buckled and he had to half-support her with his body. His other hand rose higher to brush her hair off her shoulder so his lips could taste her neck. She haltingly began moving her hand on him again, though more jerkily under his administrations, staring at the door behind him with her chin hovering over his shoulder, trying to minimize the soft gasps and lusty sighs.

 

Knowing they didn't have much time, he waited only long enough to be sure her heightened sensitivity was real before pulling her underwear down to her knees. She released him long enough to step out of them and then to help Heero remove his undergarments. With the lower half of their clothes in a heap on the floor, Heero made to lift her up onto the edge of the desk, his hand grasping her hips as if read to hoist her onto the surface of the wooden table.

 

“No, wait,” she said, trying not to make her words sound breathy or strained with the heat and urgency she felt. “My papers.” Pushing against his shoulders, she pressed him backward until he settled into her black leather office chair, his body reclining almost gracefully with his knees bent, his eyes glued to her face like augers. There was something even more erotic and demanding about his eyes than any other part of his body, especially when his face was kept carefully expressionless despite the lust she could feel radiating from his person and evident in the thick, stiffened state of his arousal.

 

Relena climbed up onto his lap. Heero grasped her knees and situated them on either side of his hips until her thighs cradled his body. Easing her weight on his knees, Relena leaned in to kiss Heero's neck, wishing there was more time to shed their clothes completely, her fingers longing to caress his skin, but aroused by the urgency inherent in their still being half-dressed. Heat radiated from Heero's skin, and his hands caressed her thighs in quick, encouraging motions, imploring her to keep on, needing to be inside her, needing to feel her. She placed her arms on his shoulders and positioned herself above his straining length, adjusting her point of penetration until she felt the head pushing past her lips. Slowly, torturously, she lowered herself onto his shaft, murmuring quiet approval for his ears alone as he pushed up inside her, stretching her walls and colliding with her cervix. She gasped as his hands grabbed her rear and pulled her forward, deepening his penetration. A shiver passed through her body as she adjusted to the feeling, but gradually she began to move, sliding up and down on Heero's stiffened organ, sustaining her rhythm by putting her hands on Heero's shoulder while his fingers dug into her thighs and hips. Their eyes remained locked as their bodies connected, skin sliding against skin as Relena straightened enough to begin to ride Heero. His expression broke as the intensity increased, staring at her with liquid eyes as she swallowed and fought to keep her rhythm steady to his thrusting.

 

He suppressed a sound in his throat and she felt his body shudder. She knew he was close by his labored breathing and the small jerks he made with his hips, trying to drive up into her to quicken her pace. Relena hung her head as she complied, pumping up and down on him more vigorously, golden-brown hair spilling over Heero's shoulders and chest as a sudden swell carried her up to a place that her gasping in his ear and straining for release. Their movements were perforated with muffled gasps and frenzied breathing, the muscles in Heero's arms and shoulders flexing as he lifted her up by the hips and crashed her down on top of him, accelerating her pace until all she could do was try to remain still. Heero continued to pump up into her until he smothered a moan into her neck and came. His excitement, especially the sound in her ears, propelled her into a trembling orgasm that crashed over her and fragmented her world into shards and sparkles.

 

For a moment she didn't move. A thin sheen of sweat made Heero's clothes stick to his body and she found herself smoothing the wrinkles out of the fabric as he slowly lifted his head from her shoulder and blinked his eyes. Just from looking at his face she could tell he was replete from pleasure. A contented calm smoothed out his features, turning tension into tiredness and wariness into weariness. He held onto her for a moment with his hands behind her back before his regular expression returned to dominate his features, hardening everything from the lines in his forehead to the tightness in his jaw.

 

Without speaking, they disengaged. Heero helped her off of his lap gently. Her legs felt shaky as she stood, her whole body humming pleasantly after the crash of release. In silence they cleaned up and redressed, retrieving their clothes from the floor and Relena moving to open the windows to let fresh air into the room. When Relena returned to her desk, Heero was working with her papers, doing her work for her and doing it faster than she could have done it alone. It was with a researched hand that he underlined, circled and crossed-out lines and sections of the proposals she was meant to configure.

 

“How long are you going to be in Malaysia?” she asked quietly.

 

“I don't know,” he said. He didn't ask her how she knew that's where he was going—it should have been obvious enough—and after keeping his missions and whereabouts a secret for so long, he almost seemed relieved to say anything. Doubtless, what he would be doing in Malaysia was potentially dangerous, but even if nothing came of it, he would still go.

 

“I'm going to be touring next week,” she said, seating herself in her chair and retrieving a pen to help with the documentation. “Bouncing from hotel to hotel.” She paused and then added, “It will be lonely.”

 

His hands stopped moving and he turned his head so that she found herself looking into his eyes. He had incredible eyes. “I can find you anywhere,” he said in a tone that was quieter and darker than hers, rich with feeling though elusive as to what kind, “if you want me to.”

 

“I'm not afraid of you,” she said, somewhat truthfully, though what she meant was that she was not afraid of seeing him, or how it would make her feel. He looked down, his hands still on the surface of the desk, and she wondered if he didn't agree, or if, in fact, he was the one who was afraid.

 

“Can I see you before I go?” he asked after a moment of silent reflection. He didn't look at her, but his throat flashed as he swallowed.

 

“Yes,” she said.

 

Anytime. Anywhere. She was addicted and she knew it. Her feelings for Heero were necessarily suppressed, but not extinguished, and at this point she didn't care if she fell in love again, or even if she got hurt. In some ways, that must be what she wanted, even knowing he wouldn't stay with her, even knowing that there was never even an illusion of commitment. She didn't want to be left pining for him alone, but if he was willing to come around regularly, whatever the reason, then she would take that, the good with the bad.

 

There was a knock on the door that started them both, and a moment later Relena's secretary poked her head in again. What she found was merely Relena's visitor on the wrong side of the desk, bent over her paperwork with a pen in his hand while Relena sat in her chair beside him and made no excuses. It was an innocent scene, and doubtless her secretary thought little of it other than that Heero must be here to help Miss Darilan with something important, but Relena blushed anyway. He had certainly helped her, but not just with the paperwork, and she was doubtlessly the only one who thought the other bit was important.

 

When the dignitaries Relena had arranged to meet arrived, Heero left, but not without casting a backward glance over his shoulder, something that she took as a promise, even if he didn't verbalize or commit to it.

 

In the next few days, she saw Heero more than once, though not all of those encounters ended up being sexual in nature. It was more of him than she had seen in a year, and even more than she had seen of him when they had been “dating” years ago. The uncertain expectation of his presence made her world seem full of shimmers and her body literally hummed whenever he came into view. It was always with a sort of tempered violence that he appeared, touching her hand in a public hallway, meeting her backstage after a speech, even seizing her once between meetings and pulling her into a small, secluded room for a quick physical exertion that left them both shaken and trembling. Sometimes they were interrupted and sometimes she said no, usually because she was busy, and once because she was too exhausted from her work to give him or herself the attention their sordid coupling deserved. Nevertheless, they had sex twice more before Heero left for Malaysia. They didn't talk anymore about it, or attempt to justify what they meant by it. Relena held on to Heero by transfixing her assumption that it wouldn't last, or at least that their unions would be sporadic and unpredictable. Of course, the more she saw of him, the more a secret part of her wanted him to stay by her side, as a part of her always had, but she didn't indulge it, or even think about it, and she never mentioned it to him.

 

After three days, Heero vanished. He didn't say he was going, but when she saw him last—both of them closeted in her office again with no time for anything more than touching and tantalizing whispers—he acted strangely. He kept touching her with his hands, fingers tugging at her clothes or crinkling her hair as they stood together by the window, fully dressed and not attempting more than touches, but with the air between them heavy with thought and desire. Even while touching her, he kept looking away, staring out the window into the sky, his face expressionless. When he left it was with a curt nod and a hurried step, a stride that carried him away like a ship headed to sea.

 

It was natural to wonder what he would be doing when he left. He certainly had a lot of skills, more than the average person, and enough references from well-connected people that he should be able to land work without a documented education or even a personal record if he chose to use his connections. A few well-placed phone calls to people they both knew could probably reveal the specifics of his work, but Relena refrained from doing this out of respect for his privacy. She knew he was going to be in Malaysia, and that was enough.

 

For a week she didn't see him, and at length took to her own trip without feelings of regret or dismay. She thought about him while she toured, not in the dreamy, flattering way she once had, but really thinking about him.

 

Everyone knew what a gundam pilot was. They were intergalactic heroes, recognized with awe and ever-increasing nostalgia from every corner of the inhabited universe as the saviors of both the Earth and the Colonies. But only a select few knew who the gundam pilots were, or had the resources available to find out. All most people knew was that there weren't very many of them and they were—as rumor went—undefeatable. Of the five, Heero was the most famous and also the least known. It had been Heero who saved the Earth and thwarted the Barton Foundation, but publicly it was "Wing Zero's pilot" who had done that, and though the legacy of Wing Zero grew every year, Heero's name wasn't known, not even among people who were military experts or acclaimed historians.

 

It probably served him best that way. He was able to move around more freely and comfortably. Fame was not something Relena believed Heero desired; she wasn't even sure it was something he could handle. Her one-time prince she knew was a destabilized, soul-searching vagrant. There was nothing inimitably wrong with him; he handled his tribulations with grace and selflessness, but his sense of isolation infused his decisions and behaviors with a wariness of other people, of getting mixed-up with other people, especially emotionally, even if that was what he desperately needed.

 

It wasn't until she was holed up in a hotel in Brussels, exhausted and nursing a headache from the labors of her work, that she realized the significance that her affair with Heero was having on his psychology and the nature of their relationship.

 

She had just returned to her suite after a long and grueling day talking in front of hundreds of people, most of them in politics and every last one of them judging, weighing and raking her every word. She had skipped dinner and was thinking about a pleasant conversation she had had with the charming and attractive son of William Balen, a European politician who had been a long time supporter of her projects and relationship-building campaigns with the people of the Colonies. William's son Gregory was a man near her own age who had kept her interested and attentive while they drank wine at the party following the proceedings. As her tryst with Heero was unfettered, she indulged easily in the flirtation, and even managed to forget about Heero after a few drinks and a few dances.

 

Back in her room, she removed her clothes and adorned her towel bathrobe, padding barefoot to the exquisite, half-circle tub in the bathroom that was easily large enough to stretch out and float in and in which she hoped to spend a luxurious half-hour relieving herself from the tension of her day. As hot water plunged onto the golden-beige tub, she took down her hair and hummed a melody she remembered hearing her mother sing to her long ago.

 

A knock on her door startled her, but she walked out of the bathroom and across the plush carpet to investigate. Peering through the keyhole, she did a double take before unlocking her door and allowing Heero Yuy into her room. It had been three weeks, with no word, though her sources alleged that operations in Malaysia were going well, and after the first few days she had stopped expecting him.

 

“Hey,” he said.

 

He was dressed in full flight gear, uniformed head-to-toe even to the badge of wings on his left breast. There was sweat and traces of dirt on his skin, evidence of having spent more than a few days without civilities or modern conveniences, and he seemed tired, if not exhausted, the light in his eyes burning on midnight oil. More shockingly, her heart lurched at the sight of him, tipping her emotional balance into a white haze of confusion. Her heart beat erratically as he entered her room and closed the door behind him, and thudded when his eyes turned to assess her physically in her robe.

 

“You need a shower,” she said, suddenly unable to think, fighting something she thought had died off long ago.

 

Her bath was full, but Heero declined to use it. Instead he stepped into her shower, stripping out of his clothes in front of her and seemingly unconcerned about it as he laid them in a neat pile on the counter. She ran her eyes over his body, tracing toned muscles and noting new cuts and bruises she hadn't remembered from before. Nothing serious, thankfully, but enough to remind her that the work he did was dangerous, even if he was good at it. It was a gorgeous body, hardened like steel yet fluid and graceful. She watched until he stepped into the shower and closed the door, turning on the water and making use of the soap after the grit and discomfort of his completed operation.

 

Relena disrobed, aware that Heero could probably see her through the etched glass but worrying about it as little as he did. She knelt beside the tub to test the temperature before stepping in, hot steam rising around her waist as she sank into the water, the heat easing the tension from her muscles and soothing her skin. She sank under the water momentarily to wet her hair and then leaned back against the edge of the tub, submerged up to her shoulders and enjoying her bath as she had intended with her eyes clothed.

 

Heero's shower lasted seven minutes. Relena listened when he first emerged, the shower door opening and closing behind him with a soft, metallic clang. She looked only when he stepped into view, her eyes raking a body now clean and dripping with water. He glanced first at her robe on the floor and then turned to look at her in the bath. His expression didn't change, but she felt sparks as he stepped into the hot water, displacing it so that it rose a little higher to her shoulders. She made room for him with her legs, for between them was the only place for him to go. Despite being a large tub, it was not a pool, and the walls around either side of them and the shallow depth of the tub constricted the space they could maneuver in.

 

The touch of Heero's hands on her flesh was silky under the water. As he came closer, he ran his palms up her shins to her knees and then kneaded his fingers along her thighs. She took deep breaths as he swooped down to her body so that his chest skimmed over her breasts and his legs floated a little above the tub until his knees hit the tiled bottom. Then she felt all of him, his arms dipping into the water to wrap around her back, pressing her chest against his as his her legs wrapped around him from behind, their hips and stomachs meeting in the center. The water flowed in and out between the crooks and crannies separating their skin and Heero closed his eyes almost rapturously, pushing her wet hair away from her face and sighing into her ear.

 

She was on fire from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes, conscious of the locking of their bodies and the hardening of Heero's arousal between them. Whispering his name, she rubbed her body against his, enjoying the wet and silky feel of skin sliding on skin when submerged in water. Her arms snaked around his back and neck, massaging his skin until he lowered his head, but she was surprised when he lowered it to kiss her.

 

It was a kiss unlike the intoxicated, bruising initiation of their first encounter at her birthday party, and very unlike her suggestive request in her office. With his body pressed up against hers, water flowing between them with no space elsewhere to breathe, Heero's kiss soothed and inflamed her both at once. The contact was not short, but languid, his lips warm and soft and inviting, seeking something deeper from her than the contact of their bodies alone could provide.

 

She gasped for air when he released her.

 

If he was surprised by his own advance, he didn't show it, and answered her desperate, pleading expulsion of breath with his body rather than his lips. It was sufficient, for the fire in her body was warming, and it left her wanting. He was fully hard now, his arousal pressing hungrily against her thigh, so much so that she knew he wouldn't wait. He was both aggressive and suppliant, his hands adjusting her so that his entrance inside was swift and smooth, but holding her gently with his arms, his hands keeping her shoulder blades away from the hard, tiled edge of the tub as he pounded into her with a few, initial strokes.

 

“Oh god, Relena,” he moaned, and his breath heaved and lurched with the force of his thrusts.

 

She whimpered, straining against his penetration, trying to keep from drowning as he plunged in and out of her, her hands flailing for something to hold on to. It was like being adrift in a storm, tossed about by a force she could never hope to sedate, and she cried with each impact that drove her body against the tiles. It felt so good she stopped caring about the bruises. At the angle of his invasion, Heero's member dipped and rubbed against her clitoris with every stroke and the result was a sensation that made her grab onto his neck and beg him to keep going, heedless of the water that splashed over the edge of the tub as his hips lifted higher and pounded deeper into her. His hands clutched at her shoulders and then at her breasts, fondling and then molding them into her body. With everything else happening below the waist and the resounding shudder deep inside, she hardly noticed. His hair was wet in her hands, his skin slick to the touch, and she gripped his waist with her knees to stay as closely entrenched in his embrace as possible.

 

He was whispering something unintelligible as his pace altered from deep and hard to quick and urgent, his eyes staring both at her and at nothing, his features crunching and stretching with the intensity of what he must be feeling. She felt the muscles in his back tighten with the effort of keeping the pace, ramming into her slickness as she gasped as pleasure rollicked through her body in undulating waves that rose to higher crescendos with every pump of his hardened flesh.

 

Her soft moans became harsh, grating cries, and his name tore from her lips brokenly. “Heero, oh god, oh god, Heero.” She was begging, words failing to encapsulate the demands of her body, and the shrill, half-stifled cry that staggered out of her throat marked the tightening in her stomach and clench of her sex as her body spasmed into an orgasm. It shook loose all of her tension and backed down only slowly; she was still ringing from it when Heero's swift and sharp thrusts lengthened into a few deep, orgasmic pulls. He strained over her body and exploded within her, his hands pushing into the tub behind her head and a visible shudder vibrating through his body.

 

She held him as he relaxed, letting his head fall against her shoulder, eyes closed and weary as she caressed his back with both her hands and the cooling water. Later, after they had risen from the bath, dried off and drained the water, Heero came to bed with her. Under the circumstances, she expected him to stay, but under the covers, he held her, sidling close so that her head rested on his arm. She laid awake while he caressed her, his free hand tracing patterns on her skin, smoothing her flesh under his palm and exploring the curves of her body, all with his sexual needs already drained and nothing to keep him there.

 

Something, she knew, was changing between them, but she was afraid to ask. Even while holding her under the white sheets, his skin soft and cool and clean next to hers, Heero didn't seem to realize what he was doing, or think much about it. His attention was focused on her skin, his touch studying her naked body almost abstractedly as she breathed quietly in his arms.

 

“Heero,” she whispered as the lulling motion of his hands soothed her sleep, drowsiness emboldening her words.

 

“Nothing's changed, Relena,” he whispered, and removed his hand from her body.

 

She closed her eyes, biting back a trembling objection that protested his words. She knew suddenly and with absolute certainly that she was not mistaken, but neither was Heero wrong. Attraction had brought them together, their desire for the flesh of another person entangling their bodies as the satisfaction of sex pleasured their senses, but the trap of attraction was vulnerability, and it was shredding their walls, altering their defenses and opening a floodgate of tenderness that had been long-suppressed and steadfastly denied.

 

In the morning, Heero was gone when Relena awoke, like a wisp of smoke that vanished like steam when the heat cooled. She had expected it, and dreaded it, and as she sat up in her bed with only a sheet to cover her, she felt a pang in her heart. What had to be had to be, for Heero could only give as much as he was ready to take, and she reminded herself that whatever happened and however they felt about it, they had a deal. To protect herself, she couldn't stop to wait for what might never be. She had to keep looking. After all, one day…someday soon even…she wanted to be part of a family.

 

She was tired of being alone.

 

 

 

TBC

 

 

Review? *makes irresistibly adoring eyes*