Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Emancipation ❯ Anxiety ( Chapter 13 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Emancipation
Thanatos-Aire
XIII. Anxiety.
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.
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I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut.
Duo just sighs, half a chuckle but caught at the end like he knows better. “It's only what you get for making me bug Hil at three in the morning,” He pushes down on my shoulders as Trowa shifts his own weight while getting ready to shift mine.
Tro grunts and his hands find my hips; he yanks and there's a resounding crack, then he heaves and another series of pops echoes. I gasp, hand spasming around the bedsheets beneath me.
I release the tension in my body, feeling unable to keep up the stiffness in muscles that seem so heavy and tiresome anyways. Lying limply on the small bed, I can't help breathing heavily as if having just ended an excursion. Duo frees my shoulders and quietly slides one hand into my mine; before I can do anything, Trowa pushes again, this time in the middle instead of the two wings, and the whole lumbar series of my vertebrae snaps back into alignment.
I can't catch the, “Fuck,” as the wind's knocked out of me, and Duo's hand squeezes mine tightly. “I still can't believe,” he voices softly, tone almost light, “that you were in the gutter the whole time.”
Trowa's hands follow a trail up my spine to the middle of my back and I take in a deep breath just before he shoves down. “I mean, what the hell, Heero? Laying in the curb like some bag o' trash…” His voice is darker now, heavier and leaden. The humour of the game left before he dragged me up the stairs.
I grunt, and am unable to keep it from turning up at the end, making it sound like a whimper. Duo continues on, grasping my hand like he's in pain, “It can't be that bad, right? I mean, for you to run and hide and everything?”
Trowa heaves down between my shoulder blades and says, “Duo, we've already been through this. It's not suppose to hurt. I've done it on you before, remember?”
“Yeah, but, like, Ro's different. He doesn't get affected by things that hurt us, so maybe what doesn't hurt us hurts him,” he argues back valiantly.
“Would you please stop talking about me like I'm not right here?” I complain, breathless, “And if I hear one more Superman joke, your braid is so--” I cut myself off as I turn my face towards him. Rarely does Duo let solemnity rule his expression, finding even the littlest hope and humour in anything no matter how bad; right now, his eyes are wide not in mirth or excitement, but in profound concern.
It's the first time I've seen his face during Trowa's chiropractic practices, so I'm not sure if today is only because I took the hide-and-seek game so far or if he does this every time. “Du--”
Tro's hands slip under me, groping my shoulder in the front before tugging violently with one hand beneath and one ontop. The pesky rib that always pops out snaps back into place with a crack, and for a moment, I feel nauseous. I swallow and start again.
“It doesn't hurt, Duo, it's just… uncomfortable. The body wasn't meant to have things moving around so much, you know?”
He frowns but nods. “So… why do you hate it so much?” Trowa pulls back to sit on his haunches, watching closely. He too wants to hear the answer to why I irritated the hell out of him earlier.
I struggle to find the words as I pull myself up to hands and knees. The muscles are a little sore but they'll be fine in a bit, and I reach for the glass of water on the nightstand. I think better of it and just shift around to curl up on the pillow beside Duo.
“'Cause you two watching me… I hate seeing you worry. And, and every time I flinch, it hurts you.”
to be continued