Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Forged Together ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

It was the sound of soft laughter, carried across the open space that forced Duo to look up from the vid-screen he had been fiddling with (reception makes the days go faster) towards the two boys who were talking softly to each other. Heero's dark unruly haired head was bent over a manual of some sort, weapons if he wasn't mistaken, and Trowa had said something to make him laugh. It was some freak of acoustics that had made the sound higher up carry down to the ground level while those below could be barely heard even when they were screaming blue murder. (dinner, come down before Duo eats it all.)

 

“Now I've seen it all,” Duo said with a snicker then stopped when he saw the pained expression in Quatre's eyes. “I hope it's the violin you are upset over,” Duo said playfully but his expression was serious. “What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” said Quatre softly looking down at his instrument before sighing.

 

“Yeah,” pushed Duo. “That sigh was enough to push a gundam over, so spill.”

 

“Nothing,” said Quatre, getting up and looking away. “Just…drop it Duo.”

 

“Sit down,” Duo said with a wave of his hand, looking to the left where Wufei was reading a book, sitting cross-legged on a cushion on the floor. He did not look as if he was aware of his surroundings but Duo knew appearances could be deceiving. “Where're you trying to run off to?”

 

The blond flopped back onto the rickety sofa, which shook under his weight, and pouted. It was true. The safe house / hangar they were using was ideal for the gundams. It was large, with flimsy walls and roof so the gundams could take off during an emergency through said walls without scratching the paint or snagging any unwanted part to the frame; it was open and it was remote. There was practically a jungle on their door step.

 

It sucked as human habitations. There was no hot water, there was no bath, there were no separate living quarters and as a result, no privacy. They were all private individuals and it got to their nerves. The boys had spread out as much as possible, placing sleeping bags in corners and scouring little niches for themselves. And by some quirk, Quatre and Duo had wound up together. They were to two who needed the most human contact, the two who talked the most, so in a way it was understandable. And Quatre, who had been accompanied by people all his life, found the isolation a little disconcerting. Plus, Duo and Quatre had grown close during their exile in the desert so the little arrangement did not grate on their nerves as it would have, had it happened with anyone else.

 

“So, spill, what's eating you,” Duo said, throwing a friendly arm across the small blond's shoulder.

 

“Just… drop it, ok,” Quatre mumbled.

 

“I wish I could,” Duo said, giving an encouraging squeeze. “It's been bothering you all week. Is it about what Heero said the other day…about you being too soft?”

 

“Compared to him, everybody's soft,” Quatre said.

 

“And compared to Wufei everyone's a weak woman,” Duo said trying to cheer up his friend. Wufei snorted, coughed and turned a page.

 

“Just don't let any of my sisters hear that,” Quatre managed a wan smile.

 

“Something's bothering you, so spill,” Duo pushed. “You tell me, and I'll tell you something about someone else.”

 

“It's not that simple,” Quatre said.

 

“We have time,” Duo encouraged.

 

“It…'s just that…you know I sense things.”

 

“Yes,” said Duo softly. Prod, don't push.

 

“And I told you…the other day…about why I broke up with my father….”

 

“When you told him that your sisters won't be the only people bringing in sons-in-laws to the house,” Duo teased and got an answering smile.

 

“Well…there's someone…I like…” the blond mumbled.

 

“Trowa,” Duo said without pausing or letting Quatre continue. “I thought it was obvious and that you two were at least…” close “getting somewhere….”

 

“No!” Quatre said slowly, blushing. “Yes, but you see …” He tried swallowing. “I know things, about people…”

 

Duo was seriously starting to wish he had a fast forward button because they were coming to the good part but the button was stuck in repeat.

 

“And…well…I think -- no, I know -- Heero is sleeping with Trowa.”

 

Duo paused, looking up over Quatre's shoulder towards Wufei who had almost dropped his book and went over the comment twice, trying to break it down to simpler sentences…well…something. “Sleeping as in sex. They are not,” he said firmly. “I know they don't sneak into each others…”

 

Wufei snorted, giving up all pretence of reading. “I hardly think they are the type to sneak…” he shut his mouth, his cheeks tinged red.

 

“Was,” emphasized Quatre in a low voice, looking over Duo's shoulder towards the other two who were busy with their own work. “And still is. I should know.”

 

“Eh,” for once Duo was speechless as he looked up, meeting Wufei's eyes squarely. The Chinese boy was flushed and his book hung loosely in his hand.

 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

It was not as if they had been lovers. 'Lovers' would suggest some sort of love or at least a relationship, but as far as they were concerned they were two friends who understood each other. It was not something that had happened suddenly and neither boy had been surprised by the turn of events.

 

When Trowa had taken him to the circus to heal and hide, Heero had been confused and silent… and hurting. He had continued to hurt while he had searched for the surviving family members of the pacifists, mainly the Noventa family, he had mistakenly killed and Trowa had continued to travel with him, from family to family, never commenting. Heero knew Trowa watched out for him; that the tall, silent boy did not have to travel with him to all his destinations. But he did - never interfering but always ready to jump in, should Heero require help.

 

Trowa knew Heero was aching inside, with guilt and broken bones, but he never said anything to try and ease his discomfort. He knew when to remain silent, since no words could ease the pain, just as he had known with Wufei, when the Chinese boy had come to stay with him. To Trowa, both Wufei and Heero were alike, trained to kill and expected to be perfect, their worlds crumbled when they failed. To them, failure was not an option.

 

Heero knew deep down that Trowa watched out for him, though he never commented on it, silently grateful. He knew that the taller boy need not have bothered nursing him back to health and go with him on his crusade risking Heavyarm. Though the OZ officials might have latched onto Trowa's presence after his fiasco at the circus, lying low might have been a better option than driving around the world with a large gundam. But he never commented on it, grateful for the silent support his companion gave him. He trusted Trowa to look after both of them, when the OZ officials had chased them with a car in Italy, waiting for his return in their prearranged meeting place, apple in hand.

 

And he knew Trowa trusted him in return when he let Heero sit in Heavyarms' pilot seat and take over the controls. Their gundams were more personal to them than their lives. No one messed with their gundams and for someone else to use their gundam in a battle meant ultimate trust. Heero never expressed his thanks aloud but Trowa knew.

 

Sex between them had been the same, silent and intense, searching for comfort and human contact, neither mentioning it the next day. They were not shy, there was nothing left to be embarrassed about when someone had treated your wounds, undressed you and cleaned up after you. There was only so much pride could do. And neither was ashamed of it. It was war and they were 15 years old; all alone against an enemy that seemed to have no bounds. It was impossible to live with prejudice and regrets. They took what they could.

 

The first time they had had sex, Trowa let Heero take him. The shorter boy was hurt and his body was not as flexible, so it was the obvious choice. There were no unnecessary displays of affection but neither did they hurt each other. They had two pillows between them, which was enough to tuck under Trowa's so Heero did not have to strain his body, and for lube they used some hand oil, which might have belonged to Catherine but had ended up in Trowa's bag (along with one of her socks but socks always ended up lost.)

 

Heero knew what he was doing, Trowa realized. He prepared him gently, without excess force, leaning briefly to nip his lower lip just as he entered him. Trowa bore down, his body relaxed, the pain not as bad a he had expected. Either he trusted his partner completely or Heero was much smaller than he had predicted earlier - and Trowa did not think his eyes deceived him. Heero balanced himself on his good arm, leaning onto Trowa as he thrust into him, using his uninjured leg as leverage. It might have lasted five minutes or five hours, they couldn't say, and in the end, they lay in a sticky pool of cum, panting softly. Neither said anything during or after sex. Trowa kissed him briefly, affectionately, on the forehead, more a like brother than someone who'd just had sex with him, then they rolled off in synchronization from opposite sides of the bed, and went to get cleaned up. It was not their nature to talk and it was not as if they needed to exchange phone numbers afterwards. It simply was…

 

Later on, it became a ritual. After each stop over, each family he had apologized to, and in return revealed his true presence to, Heero sought release in Trowa's arms. They were not affectionate in public and they did not exchange names until they had been lovers for over two weeks but to them it was not strange. The only person who might have come even close to understanding their relationship might have been Lt. Noin as she watched Trowa tell Heero about Heavyarms' controls, but she did not mention this. She had her own ghosts to fight and in the end, she thought she understood them better than anyone else.