Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Emancipation ❯ Balance ( Chapter 7 )

Emancipation

Thanatos-Aire

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VII. Balance.

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It is the easiest way to do this, I remind myself. Never the less, I feel bored with the position and want to do something different.

But no -- this is in celebration of Duo's lack of demons. We do it his way tonight, no questions asked.

As Trowa predicted last night, I end up as middle. I always do, I shouldn't be surprised anymore when they gang up to make a Heero Sandwich. But I don't really mind tonight.

Like I said, Duo's in charge tonight. Besides, with the double assault, there shouldn't be room in my mind for the frustration at my laptop. I need to write a better search program, I think. I spent hours today combing through everything I could for information on the men who haunt Trowa's dreams, but came up with nothing.

At the moment though, I don't think he could care less.

Beneath me, my taller partner writhes, head lolled back exposing his white throat. His long hands grip my shoulders from behind, digging his short nails into my skin. Trowa makes the hottest noises I've ever heard when the three of us are together -- tiny keening half-gasps that just stoke the heat more.

Duo, for as vocal as he is normally, is on the quiet side during our times together like this. He grunts, lips parted to take in harshly ragged breaths, but that's it. Other than roughly whispered directions, my braided lover is nearly silent. His hands are on my hips, pushing and pulling in the opposite rhythm his own are moving in so that we meet in the middle.

In all respects, I am basically nothing but a seesaw. A teeter-totter between the two of them like this.

Actually, I feel this way a lot outside of sex. It's that damned unfair triangle thing again, I know, but I still can't help but think to myself that I always end up between the two of them.

In Trowa's silence and Duo's noise, I am the middle ground. In Duo's organised-chaos and Trowa's OCD neatness, I stand at the centre. I cook better than my Anglo lover but not as good as my Latin one, and hack better than my fringed lover but not as well as my braided one.

Where they complement each other in fluid, graceful, long-limbed but untraditional fighting skills of dodging and stealth, I am different in my rigidly strict training of using quick and heavy, strength-centric martial-arts.

I am unlike them yet exactly the same as them in that I had a place to stay during childhood, Trowa didn't, but had no one who cared for my well-being further than my usefulness, unlike Duo.

I have no idea where this three-pointed spectrum ends, as thinking of it too much tends to depress me. I should be glad I have them now, that they have me now. But instead, I worry too much about the future when/if they will let me go or I drive them away.

But for now, I am content being between Trowa's soft noises and Duo's loud silence, especially when the controllessness of my position leads to three sets of pleasurable spasms. Besides, it's Duo's night and who am I to ask for something other than what he wants?

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to be continued