Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Burn ❯ Burn ( Chapter 1 )

Burn

 

Quatre sat curled in one corner of the couch; his long legs tucked under him much like a little kid. He was focused on the book, the words giving him a brief reprieve from the war. Heero sat at the small desk across the room, back ramrod straight and fingers tapping a seemingly endless rhythm; the soft clack clack as soothing as a heartbeat. In the back of the room, humming a half remembered lullaby, Duo worked to solder a delicate panel for his beloved Deathscythe.

 

It only took a moment; the deceptively calm humming came to a halt and tension drained from the black clad form like water. The force of the multitude of emotions battling through the braided man drew Quatre from his book. It wasn't anything new coming from Duo; the lithe pilot was always a riot of emotion almost numbing in its intensity. Quatre waited, curious blue eyes peeking through blonde locks to watch his friend. He was barely able to suppress a shocked gasp as Duo walked past Heero and trailed his long fingers across the Wing pilots' shoulders on his way towards the kitchen.

 

He did gasp at the tentative wave of emotion that washed from Heero. The gentle clack clack continued as the emotion fought for more than its tentative grasp. Then, without warning, the soothing tapping was gone. He watched, nearly forgetting not to stare, as Heero packed up and went towards the upper bedrooms. A moment later Duo returned and dropped himself on the couch a sandwich in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He didn't hide the smirk he gave the empty desk. Quatre waited patiently for his friend to finish eating even as he thought about the delicate flutter of emotions he felt from Heero.

 

“Swear to me you're not just playing with him,” ordered Quatre once Duo finished his sandwich.

 

“Quatre,” warned Duo.

 

“Swear it or I put a stop to it.” Quatre turned dangerous blue eyes on him. “You are like a flame, Duo Maxwell, providing warmth and light to a winter night but you could burn him just as easily. It would be devastating, he wouldn't survive it.”

 

Sad violet eyes locked on his with their haunted shadows and Quatre's hand clutched at his chest. The maelstrom of emotion surrounding the self proclaimed God of Death parted to reveal its secret. The cold void of space hurt in its intensity. A few tears escaped wide blue eyes as the maelstrom returned to hide the wound within.

 

“I swear to you I'm not playing with him;” He shuddered with a deep sigh, “but Quatre, he could burn me just as easily.”

 

He rose with all the grace of a dance, his long braid bouncing behind him, and made his escape up the stairs. The darkness of the hall was a comfort, a place to regain his balance. He didn't stop, though it was tempting to use the darkness to rewrap his cloak; to hide himself in the maelstrom once more. He let himself into the room they shared, carefully locking the door, and let himself sag into the strong arms that wrapped around him.

 

“What took so long?” asked Heero gently.

 

“Quatre was worried about you,” Duo sighed as he turned and buried his face in Heero's chest.

 

“About me?” questioned Heero as he started massaging the tension from the lean muscles.

 

Duo moaned appreciatively. “He was afraid that I was toying with you, that I might burn you with my intensity.”

 

“Promise?” murmured Heero into his hair and let his hands become a caress. “What did you tell him?” He asked after a moment.

 

Duo sighed and tugged Heero's shirt untucked, his hands seeking skin. “You could burn me just as easily.”

 

Heero let Duo strip away his shirt, let him seek the warmth he craved. When hands and lips weren't enough to drive away the cold helped Duo out of his shirt. He lay back on the bed, Duo wrapped around him. Hands and lips caressed, chasing away the terrible void that threatened to engulf them, until Duo was trembling on his chest.

 

Duo rolled, pulling Heero on top of him. “Make me burn.”