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

title: Jakuten
part: 1/1 complete
date: July 2006

author: Thanatos_Aire (Airi M.)
contact: death.in.a.box13 @gmail.com

genre: Shin Kidou Senki Gundamu W (Gundam Wing)
rating: R/17+
warnings: dark, some violence, unrepentant sap, slight unapologetic OOC, implied past abuse involving TB

cast: 1x3, 3+1, past 3x1, mention of 4+3
notes: Okay so it didn't exactly turn out the way I was going for, but I finished it and it's decent so I'm fine with it. I hate most of the ending and the middle kind of goes tangent-skipping and there's a lovely plothole I won't bother spackling, but oh well. I'm working on a dozen other 1331 fics so I couldn't keep the stories separate as well as I should [sweat]

trailer: An amnesic Trowa finds his way to a confused Heero, who'd been trying to avoid him for a reason Tro's lack of memories can't supply. // songfic, Peacemillion-setting
disclaimer: I own nothing from the canon story, do not have permission to use those contents, and have made no profit from writing this. Bryan Adams owns the song.

He doesn't look me in the eye anymore.

At least, Trowa tries not to. I always catch a glimpse of green tracking my face from behind that curtain of moss, and the taller pilot always looks away before I can meet his eyes let alone say something.

But then, he does it with the other pilots and Sally too.

It has to be something with the amnesia, I surmise, because the Frenchman gets along with Howard and Hilde well enough. He hadn't met them before the incident in Vayeate so their presence must not pick at him with the faint recognition like me and the others.

But it still hurts.

So I try to avoid Trowa as much as possible, just to lessen the pressure in my chest that appears every time the emeralds slip away from my gaze without ever meeting it. It had been hard enough not having him nearby when I thought him dead, but it's worse now that he's just an arm-stretch away; ignoring him, pretending he is still dead, pains me less than watching him brush me off like a stranger.

Someday, it'll change. It could be tomorrow, it could take years if we even survive, but one day Trowa will look me in the eye again.

Right?

… Even if he never remembers, I hope he'll at least stop shrinking away. He was the first to not treat me as invisible until I was useful; now it's the only way he acts around me.

During the flight run this morning, a strange thought popped into my head: I think it would have hurt less if he had stayed dead.

And that thought hurts more than every non-met gaze he bestows me.

He closed the door behind him even as he crossed the threshold. He was so tired, so ready to fall into his lumpy pillow and sleep deeply until reveille beneath the scratchy blanket, that Heero barely noticed he wasn't alone.

A movement caught his eye and he turned his whole body towards the bed, eyes automatically snapping there to take in the situation. Wide, stock-still emerald eyes peered out from beneath the grey wool blanket on the bunk. Heero relaxed.

“Trowa.” he commented quietly, crossing to the set of drawers at the foot of the bunk-bed. Trowa watched him, silent, from where he was curled up. The bed frame was short and narrow to begin with, so his long legs had to fold up even closer to his chest for his feet to not hang off the edge.

Heero stripped off his flight suit and threw it over the foot-bar of the top bunk. “Your quarters are down the hall.” he said lightly as the green eyes followed his movements. The Japanese pilot slipped out of the tank he wore with his jeans and shrugged into a turtleneck he had rummaged for in the drawers.

“Okay.” He looked up to see Trowa twist in one complicated motion to stand. The taller teen shifted the blanket on his shoulders and padded towards the door, ready to rest after his thirty-six hour shift.

Heero sighed. “Trowa, I didn't… I meant I didn't expect to see you.” The thin form paused and turned around to watch him quietly. So pale, blank but confused. “It's late, stay here. I don't mind and I'm sure the crew wouldn't appreciate having the door to their quarters being opened while they're trying to sleep because you're trying to find your own.”

Trowa blinked. “You… don't mind?”

“We stayed together on Earth plenty of times,” he shook his head, “Besides, we're friends. Of course I don't mind.” The memory-less soldier watched his feet as he took the comment in. “C'mon, we should get in as much sleep as we can.” Heero waved towards the bed as he fussed with his socks.

After a moment of hesitation, Trowa nodded distractedly, a small bobbling motion the younger had seen before, and began to climb back into the bed. He narrowly missed smacking his head on the side of the top bunk as he twisted around to get in, tangled in his blanket.

Heero snorted. “Still not used to bunks?” he pipped, taking another thin blanket from a drawer and stepping around to the side of the bed. “Let me get in first. I know how you hate wall-side and I'd move the bed but it's bolted to the floor.” Trowa looked up him with a surprised expression, blinking in an odd goldfish sense.

“You… How do you know?”

It still feels like our first night together
Feels like the first kiss
It's getting better, baby, no one can better this

The Japanese pilot spared him a glance as he crawled over the long legs to stretch out against the wall on his side behind him. “I told you, we were partners back on Earth. C'mon, lay down. … I'm not going to bite,” he added with a sad smirk. He adjusted his blanket around him as Trowa rolled and shifted on the twin-sized mattress beside him to lie down on his back.

“Are you cold?” Trowa asked after a long silence. Prussian blue eyes rose to look at him with a quirked eyebrow. “I mean, well… You've got socks `n' jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and a separate blanket…” His cheeks pinkened and the emerald eyes darted away. “You… you c'n share mine, … if you want…”

After a moment, Heero chuckled, a gentle smile on his soft face. An olive hand reached up slowly to stroke Trowa's hair. “Heh. I took you up on that once and regretted it the next morning. But thanks.” Trowa gave him a funny look, and he explained gently but pointedly, “You, Trowa Barton, are a blanket-hog. Worse than Duo, especially since he tends to cuddle so at least there's some warmth.”

Trowa flushed. “Oh. Sorry. I… didn't know.”

“S'okay. I understand.” His hand flitted down to the buried shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Don't worry about it, okay? I'm sure you'll remember everything soon.”

“But…” Green eyes refused to look up at him again. “You were so mad before, when I couldn't remember -- the Gundam…”

Heero took a deep breath and released it slowly, watching the pallid face intently. “I was angry because I was upset. I thought you were dead, Trowa… it was a bit of a shock, you understand. I apologise.” It was his turn to look away in nervousness. “I didn't mean to sca-- upset you… I should have known better than to yell, but I...”

Another blank look. He sighed, “Trowa… I know it doesn't make much sense now, but later it will. Just, just know now that I'm sorry and keep it for when you remember.” The Frenchman nodded unsurely and pulled a hand out of his cocoon to rest ontop of Heero's on his shoulder.

“But… your clothes? Don't you have pyjamas or something?”

Heero looked up, startled, and their eyes caught. For a few heartbeats, he was drowning. Amnesia-Trowa never looked him -- never looked anyone -- in the eye, and those few precious moments were so powerful that when the lock broke, Heero was breathless.

Reaching out unconsciously, he dragged him closer, ignoring the defensively rigid stiffness of the thin form swaddled in wool. The flimsy bedframe creaked and the thin mattress squealed under the shifting weight but Heero dutifully gathered his comrade up into his arms and hugged him close. The pale hand ontop of his clutched the olive flesh tightly, wary jade eyes wide and searching.

“… Heard you've been having nightmares?” he murmured, uneasily nuzzling the soft sideburn of mossy brown with his nose.

Still holding on, you're still the one
First time our eyes met
Same feeling I get
Only feels much stronger

Trowa tensed and bristled. “Why does everyone change the subject whenever I ask a question?” he snapped, pulling back. His eyes were narrowed in a glare, but his hand didn't dislodge from Heero's. “Fuck! You all want me to remember everything but every time I ask for information, everyone gets all edgy and nervous and either makes up some never-mind-it's-stupid shit or changes the subject or makes up an excuse to leave the room. What the fuck is the problem?

“I'm not some sadistically-twisted serial-killer or anything in my spare time, am I? I'm not going to snap and murder everyone on board when I remember what happened or anything, right?” Heero blinked at the outburst. The only time he remembered the Latin boy ever ranting like this was -- Fuck, he'd have to tell him, wouldn't he?

Heero opened his mouth but thought better of it and closed it again. He swallowed, scratched at his eyebrow in a nervous gesture, then huffed. His hand went back to wrap around the thin waist beside him and Heero nodded. “It's just that there are things…” he began, then looked away from the ashen face. The Japanese pilot started again, “We don't want you to remember everything, is all…”

“Why?” Trowa choked, “what's so wrong with everything that everybody has to push me away? What did I do that you're all so afraid of?”

“No,” Heero returned sharply. “It's not you. We could never… would never-- We're not pushing you away, Trowa, just the opposite.” He ducked his head, trailing off. In a murmur, he tried to explain again: “None of us really had decent childhoods, but you… you carried yours more than the rest of us, heavily and…”

He sighed, looking into the face so stoic yet emotion-ravaged at the same time. “I wasn't changing the subject.” he commented, leaning down to rest his cheek on the clasped hands. “I… You've always had nightmares, as long as I've known you. We all do frequently, about the war and all, and a fair amount from before, but yours always were opposite: about before you were in the war most often and a couple here and there about the battlefields this previous year.” He shook his head.

“Fuck, I don't… I can't explain anything very well, you know tha-- that. Sorry…” Heero sighed again, closing his eyes. “Trowa, the nightmares… some are real. Most are real. Especially now, with the whole amnesia thing, they're suppose to tend to be memories however hashed together. We avoid saying things because we don't want to trigger a bad memory. The reason I'm wearing clothes that cover everything is part of that.”

Trowa watched him carefully, the anxiety ebbing from his relaxing form. “But… wouldn't it-- what'm I gonna do, have a mental breakdown just `cause I can't get the image of a wall of a dozen bloody corpses out of my head?”

Heero took in a sharp breath. “You remember that?”

The taller teen shifted, giving him an odd look. “The wall of gore-covered bodies? That's real?”

He gave a jerky nod. “We were in Europe, hitting OZ bases while we travelled…” Sylvia's angry face appeared in his mind. “We… you and I, we built that wall of soldiers we killed… the hangar didn't have cover.” Trowa swallowed, brows knitted as he struggled to form the scene in his head. Heero's hand at his waist shifted, the fingers folding over the jut of Trowa's hip, thumb sweeping up and down in a soothing manner. “Do you remember anything about that assignment? That night…”

“The inn. Little country inn at the side of the road.” Trowa murmured, closing his eyes. He gave a little shiver from the cold despite his blanket and shared body-warmth. “You… I remember you being sick in the toilet. You threw up into the bidet,” he snorted. Heero made an open-mouthed scoffing noise.

“Yeah. And you laughed at me for that like you knew what the hell it was.” he retorted. “But you held back my hair and helped clean it up and… You crawled into my bed with me.”

I wanna love you longer
Do you still turn the fire on
So if you're feeling lonely, don't
You're the only one I'll ever want

There was a pregnable silence as thoughts were delved into. Trowa made a small breathless sound and whispered, “It was hot. You took off your clothes.” Heero shifted, moving to lean on an elbow as he laid on his side to look his partner in the face with troubled blue eyes. “And…” He looked up at him, starting a bit at the hovering face. “… you promised to wear clothes next time we shared a bed. Because I… was uncomfortable.”

Heero nodded, leaning forward slowly to press a chaste kiss to the thin, chapped lips. Trowa didn't even blink, but also didn't return the gesture. “And?”

Trowa knitted his brow. “I… I don't remember. Something somewhere else, later on… Military bunker. It was cold and, and we shared the bed for warmth.”

The Japanese pilot nodded. “Antarctica. About a week after the… corpse wall incident.”

Green eyes snapped up to meet his blue ones again hurriedly as his lithe form started. “In Europe, did we… I, I don't remember what happened but… I get the feeling we…” He looked away hastily, cheeks tinged a tomato red.

Heero snorted, holding him closer. “No. But we… made out… in Antarctica.”

“Why?”

The Japanese teen looked startled. He blinked for a few moments. “It was cold so we were sharing a bunk,” he said carefully, “There was a lot of stress and… well, we cared for each other. I don't think there's really a reason why, just that we did, and because it seemed appropriate.”

Trowa took a deep breath. “Did… Have we ever… had sex? You and me?”

“Yes.”

“Shit.” He jerked away, getting as close to the opposite edge of the bed as Heero's embrace would allow. Trowa's breath hitched, “Shit.” he repeated.

The blue-eyed pilot pursed his lips, looking a bit downhearted. “Are you upset because it was me, or because it was another man?”

Trowa shook his head, swallowing, his hand scrubbing at his tired face. “This is… all just so…”

“If it makes you feel any better…” Heero offered quietly, “I was bottom.”

Green eyes blinked owlishly at him for a moment before the blush returned. “No, it… It isn't that. I just… everything…” He huffed, turning away again. His shoulders grew tense beneath Heero's hand, his legs curling up some more to render him in a foetal position. “I mean… How do I know? How do I know anything?” He watched the door with weary eyes, uncomfortably hyperaware of the body at his back.

“This could all just be one big fabricated nightmare… There might not be a war, or OZ could be the good guys here and you all are the villains and have brainwashed me or something. Or, or… I don't know! But how do I know for certain that everything you guys tell me is true? I have no way of knowing what's right or wrong or accurate, what year it really is, or even if the technology I've seen even really exists...

“All I have is a handful of people who tell me they remember things about me that I don't realise myself, like your comment about sleeping on the wall-side of the bed. How do I know it's all real?”

I only want to make it go
So if I love you a little more than I should
Please forgive me -- I know not what I do

Heero took a moment to run that through his head. How indeed? “You just have to trust us, I suppose.” he murmured. “Believe us when we tell you that we are your friends and comrades and that once upon a battle, you trusted us with your life. When you remember, and I promise it's when not if, you will understand. I'm sorry I cannot give you anything more concrete than my word, but… my word meant something to you not long ago and I sincerely wish it still does.”

“Fuck.” he spat.

“No,” Heero replied airily, “not tonight.”

Trowa stiffened. After a moment, he turned to face him. The Frenchman took a deep breath, “You were serious, before? That we've…”

Heero nodded. “Only twice. But I always bottomed, even when we made out.”

“Who… Who started it?”

For a moment, the Japanese pilot was confused. “Well… in the beginning, it was mutual. But I initiated the scene the first time it got serious. You did the second, and the sex was… well, that was my fault at first, I suppose… But the relationship itself was both of us... together. ” With a soft smile, he stroked his knuckle down the side of his partner's face, “We always came together.”

Trowa's eyes fluttered closed and he unconsciously leaned into the touch. “I…” He swallowed and looked up to meet Heero's eyes again. “A lot of people here, and Cathy… I get this nagging feel in the back of my head. They're the ones who know me, so maybe it's recognition… But you… you're different. It's more intense, and it's… it's here instead.” A pale hand lighted onto his chest. It trailed down his sternum idly as Trowa struggled for the words.

“When you yelled at me…” he whispered, looking away again, “it was like… like I knew something was wrong. I was surprised, like I knew you didn't usually yell at people so this had to be important. But it was so odd, because I don't know you… Not consciously at least…”

Heero nodded, letting his hand dance from the pale jaw to clasp the hand resting on the narrow stomach. He wrapped his fingers around the longer hand, gripping softly but firmly as he shifted up to hover slightly. “You have selective amnesia, right?” he murmured, leaning over to close the distance between his lips and Trowa's ear.

The Latin pilot nodded, watching him with confusion in his eyes. “It's why I can still pilot decently…”

The Japanese teen just pressed a kiss on the cartilage in front of the ear and replied, “Then you remember how to speak French?”

Again, Trowa nodded, swallowing and moving away uncomfortably. Heero's hand moved to grasp his waist and keep him still for the most part. “Before you… before the last battle we were in together, we had a moment to ourselves in an OZ containment cell.” Delicate brown eyebrows arched as he tried to recall the scene, but Heero continued on: “You told me something before you left… whispered it in my ear after our last kiss before you ran out the door…”

Heero's lips brushed against the inner sworl of Trowa's ear as he murmured, the two cheek to cheek. “You said something like je t'aime.”

Please forgive me -- I can't stop loving you
Don't deny me this pain I'm going through
Please forgive me -- if I need you like I do
Please believe me, every word I say is true

He stiffened, blinking. “I said that… to you?”

“What's it mean?” Heero asked, his lips nibbling on the shell of his ear. “My French is worse than Duo's, I never understood what you said, Trowa…”

The European swallowed, looking away. A shiver ran down his spine, and in a whisper, he answered shyly, “It means… that I loved you.”

Heero blinked, pulling back a little to search the ashen face. He pushed away the blankets some more than they'd already been, and said evenly, “Loved. As in, past tense?”

Trowa shook his head. “At the time, no, not if that really is what I said… But I… Heero, I don't remember…” Heero nodded, understanding, and went back to teasing his ear. “You… you don't care? It doesn't bother you that I said that, or that I don't remember, or that I can't love you right now?”

Again, the Japanese pulled back. He manoeuvred over to sit up and watch him with smiling cobalt eyes. “You don't know Japanese, do you?”

“No… I know a few phrases, but I think they're from Duo so… Why?”

Heero snorted and smiled and leaned over to kiss his lips again. Trowa blinked but didn't flinch away. “Before you told me you loved me in French, I had told you in Japanese the same thing. S'ki da, Torowa-dono.”

The older soldier pulled away. “No. No, you're making it up. You're making all this up.” he replied firmly in a hurt voice as he struggled with the blankets to get off the mattress. His knees pulled up, tugging the blankets further from their chests.

“Why? Why would I lie about that?” Heero implored, shifting to grasp at him, keep him.

“Why would you mean it?” he retorted, managing to push himself up into a sitting position, and promptly smacked his head on the upper bunk. He swore and raised a hand to his temple, wincing, one knee falling back down to the mattress.

Gentle warmth enveloped him and Trowa was guided back down to lie on the bunk. A hand led his own from his face and Heero planted a chaste kiss to his brow where he'd been injured. As he laid there stunned, Heero rearranged the blankets around them carefully before sliding down to lay on his side, pressed up against Trowa's warm body.

“Why would you mean it?” the Frenchman asked again, softly, his green eyes once again barely meeting the blue eyes looking over him. He set his hand on his chest and scooted slightly, submissively allowing Heero to wrap an arm over his waist to pin him to the mattress.

“Why wouldn't I?” Heero replied, moving his head over the pillow to press his lips against the pale cheek.

He bit his lip. “They say you're supposed to be The Perfect Soldier, cold and focused only on the mission. Why would you care, if…?” Heero frowned.

“I was the Perfect Soldier. Then I met you.” He laid his head beside Trowa's and closed his eyes, breathing in the unique scent that was the taller pilot. “You showed me it was okay to be imperfect. Then, I wanted to be perfect, for you.”

They lied together for a long while, silent but for their breathing. The blankets rustled as Trowa laid his other knee down and shifted his body closer some. Then, “There are different kinds…”

“Kinds of what?” Heero murmured, half-asleep.

“Love.” Trowa replied, staring up at the mattress above them. “Duo… Duo said he loved me too. `Like an annoying older brother who gets him in trouble and breaks his toys' but a brother nonetheless.”

Heero hummed, eyes still closed.

“Cathy… Cathy said it every night and every morning, almost like she wanted to mean it but…” He paused, took a deep breath, and began again, “Quatre said he loves me. After he picked me up from the circus, he told me.” His voice hitched a little, the hand at his thigh lifting to search along the contours of his blanket-covered hip before finding Heero's hand and resting ontop of it lightly. “He kissed me,” Trowa whispered.

Please forgive me
I can't stop loving you
Still feels like our best times are together

The Japanese pilot started, fully awake once again. Eyes wide, he searched the pale face fervently. “He did? Quatre?”

Trowa nodded, brows arched delicately as he recalled the scene. “It wasn't like yours. He only did it once, in the car on the way to the shuttle port, but it… It was-- It was like he was trying to suffocate me, trying to pour his soul down my throat.”

“Fuck,” Heero spat, shifting to embrace him almost possessively. “What did you do?”

“I… pushed him away. It, it didn't feel right.” He let his eyes roam Heero's face in an uncertain manner. “I could remember being kissed before. Once. It was different, and… Honestly, I didn't like his. It… scared me.”

The chocolate-haired soldier nodded, burying his face into Trowa's collarbone. “I didn't think he would continue pushing you after everything.”

“Does he know? That you and I… were together?”

“No. No one does, except me I guess.” Heero actually seemed a bit sad at that. “But Quatre's always sort of… been infatuated with you. After that last battle, I thought he would pull back, but apparently not.”

Trowa pursed his lips together, looking at the upper mattress again. “Do you think he did it because of that battle? He apologised for almost killing me, or something like that. I thought he was manic or something, the way he was tugging on my arm and rambling about maths and death.”

“Math?”

“I think it was something like he was trying to prove his love in binary terms… Kept repeating `zero' and `one' over and over.”

Heero chuckled. “The PX System. The latest version is called ZERO. It's a program in the Gundams…” He paused. “Though, my handle is `zero-one'… He could have been talking about me.”

“But if he doesn't know, then why…?”

“That last battle. He nearly killed you after you jumped in front of him trying to save me.” Trowa went still. “No one told you, did they? Shit-- I'm sorry… I assumed…” Heero took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “You have amnesia because of Quatre. And I'm the reason why.”

“Because I loved you.” he stated. Then he frowned, “Yes?”

He shrugged. “Possibly. But the five of us… we're brothers like Duo said. We're all we've got in this war. It might have been because I was a comrade, a valuable resource to our side.” Trowa chewed on his lower lip. “Tro? That kiss… The one you remember? What, who was it?”

After a long silence, he whispered, “You.”

Feels like the first touch
Still getting closer, baby
Can't get close enough
Still holding on, you're still number one

“… And you still doubted me when I told you about our relationship?”

“I… it was different. You've never touched me until tonight, I thought it was just some…” he blushed, “wet dream thing… Especially after you were so angry about the Gundam, I figured it had to be part of my imagination, some left-over memory of a fantasy or something.”

Heero snorted and the two mutually gravitated towards one another some more. “Tell me about it?” he requested quietly.

“The wet dream fantasy?” he gasped.

The Japanese pilot gave a soft snort and smiled. “No,” he shook his head, leaning in some more. “The kiss.”

Trowa bit his lip, eyebrows angling down as he thought. Then, “It was the only thing I could remember until Cathy found me. Just that one still-frame looping in my mind, the feeling that I had to get back somewhere soon and these emotions that--

“Cathy took me to a doctor. He said my amnesia was probably because I had lost someone in the war and that everything was being repressed so I wouldn't hurt. I had that one memory of us so I thought it was plausible; that you had died and my mind snapped. Cathy refused to talk about anything concerning the war so I figured maybe she knew, maybe she didn't want to trigger bad memories too…

“But I still wanted… That kiss, I remembered it. It was all I had and I wanted to know, wanted to remember this person…” He ducked his head, brows knitting as he struggled for the words. “Cathy found out I had asked around. The other performers, some remembered you but I think maybe… Wufei? was there too, and Cathy heard about my questions and… She was so angry.”

Trowa slipped his head beneath Heero's chin, pale hand reaching out to grasp the other's turtleneck. “When Duo and his friend showed up and he knew me and Cathy scared him off, I knew he would have answers, but I couldn't find him again. That's why I went with Quatre, because he said Duo was out here too and I figured both of them could help…” He swallowed, blushing a little, “At first, I thought maybe this person I kissed wasn't dead, that it was Duo who had left for his friend or something, but it didn't feel right. I should have known better.”

“Don't say that; there's no way you could have known.”

Green eyes rose to look up at him dubiously. “Me and Duo?”

Heero chuckled. “Well, okay. So it's a bit ridiculous, but… opposites attract or so they say. But it might have been Noin, or Hilde, or Chang.” They both snorted at the mental image -- Wufei kissing anybody was an absurd thought.

“So… why us?” Trowa asked, “I mean, if opposites attract and all, how did we end up together?”

The Japanese pilot licked his bottom lip in thought. “Sometimes… it's better to share interests and experiences.”

“So… piloting, not talking, and hating to be cold is why we're together?” Heero snorted again, shifting his weight so they ended up snuggling more than anything else.

I remember the smell of your skin
I remember everything, I remember all the moves
I remember you, yeah
I remember the nights, you know I still do

“You and I have been through a lot together during this war. Before, we shared similar experiences, and then once we met… You were the first person who ever really cared about me and understood me, partly because we are so much alike. I gave that back to you as much as I could.” Heero sighed, knitting his brow and licking his lower lip in thought. His grip on the paler hand tightened.

“In Antarctica, you were cold but never said a word. Just curled up in your bunk and froze. At first, I think you only let me crawl in with you because you worried about me. That's how you are, Tro, always thinking about others before yourself even if it means to your expense. `Cause we still weren't that comfortable with each other and you… you still don't like being touched so much…”

Blue eyes closed, his lip quirking ever so slightly as he remembered the night. “But if I needed it, then it was okay. You'd suck it up and pretend like I didn't see you trembling. But you were shivering so bad that night anyway that I could ignore it, could blame it on the cold. So did you, said you'd been in space too long and all your Russian winters didn't help anymore.” Trowa gave a soft snort, then twitched a little as he recalled something.

“Snow. I always loved the snow, but there's none in the colonies….”

“Antarctica had too much snow.” Heero complained. “Well, not enough snow and much too much ice, anyway.” His whisper almost died as he continued, “but it didn't matter, any of it, `cause we were stuck inside the base with guards at every door and Noin whining about Zechs every other minute…”

“You joked about a snowball fight?” the taller pilot murmured, grasping onto the fleeting scene of them whispering in the corridor with the dark-haired woman just steps away. He shivered again.

“Yeah. Said Maxwell would probably dump snow in Zechs's pants just to see him dance. Braided idiot,” he chuckled affectionately. “But you didn't understand,” he wisted. “Didn't know what a snow-ball fight was, so you didn't get the joke… thought I was serious and it didn't make sense.”

Trowa frowned. “It's December, right?” Heero nodded, brows knitted in confusion. “Then… if… If we make it through this, could we go back to Earth? I want to see the snow and there's more of it now than any other time of the year really, right, so… Would you…”

Heero blinked, then smiled. Their clasped hands tightened around the other's as the Japanese pilot nodded. “If we make it through this, I'll take you back to Earth and spend time in the snow. I promise.”

The small smile that graced the pale face was a reward all in itself. The young man smiled back and let himself scoot a little closer. The mattress creaked beneath them, but the pair ignored it and laid in silence for a few precious moments.

So if you're feeling lonely, don't
You're the only one I'll ever want
I only want to make it go
So if I love you a little more than I should

Then Trowa stiffened again. “You were talking about the military base on Antarctica.” At Heero's slow nod, he affirmed, “You crawled into bed with me because I was cold, and… there wasn't much room so we were huddled together and...”

Heero cocked his head a bit. “You remember?”

After a moment came the choked reply of, “You told me it was the best you ever had,”

“It was. Until the day we split up for space and had sex before leaving.” He quirked a small smile and gave into the humour, “Gods couldn't have had anything better than that night.”

Trowa shivered, though from what the other pilot wasn't sure. “In… in your Gundam?” he half-gasped, appalled at the memory but still not quite sure if it were true.

Heero nodded and tightened his grip. Their bodies laid flush against the other's, limbs intertwined so thoroughly with the blankets too that it would take quite an effort to disentangle themselves should they wish to part.

Fortunately, that thought was far from existence.

“When… was the second time?”

“What?”

Trowa shifted a little uncomfortably, but still hung on to the other. “You said… we had had sex twice.” Heero hummed and nuzzled the pale throat.

“It wasn't very romantic either. We were on the OZ base, alone in an interrogation room. Two weeks after that was… was that battle.”

He swallowed, brow knitted as he frowned, trying to scrape up the memory. “I heard some people talking about me playing turncoat. Was that then?”

“Yeah. You were undercover, you remember that? Chang and Duo and I were captured and the two of us were test-piloting for OZ.” Heero sighed, arm subconsciously tightening around his burden. “You had orders to interrogate me, so you took me on the table so we'd look rumpled for the guards.”

“I scuffed your cheek,” he lamented quietly, reaching up to smooth the pad of his thumb across the apple of Heero's left cheek. “And you bit through your lip to keep quiet while we were… it was bleeding and looked like I'd punched your mouth.”

Heero nodded, letting him roll over to face him. Shaking but steady hands roamed over his body with a curious determination, slightly guilt-ridden. “We ripped my shirt up `cause you wouldn't let me wiggle under you and it got caught on the corner of the table. So--”

“You were limping afterwards,” Trowa cut in, green eyes wide as he pulled back, fingertips grazing the turtleneck. He swallowed, searching the olive face. “It was just suppose to look like I'd hurt you, I didn't really want to!”

Please forgive me -- I know not what I do
Please forgive me -- I can't stop loving you
Don't deny me this pain I'm going through

As his voice climbed louder with agitation, Heero's mind was racing. Finally, he leaned forward and pressed their mouths together firmly. It successfully shut him up. When he relaxed in the embrace, Heero broke the kiss but didn't back away. Noses still touching, Trowa's eyes still closed, and lips mere centimetres apart, the Japanese pilot murmured, “You didn't, you didn't hurt me. It was all pretend, remember?”

A few deep breaths, and he was able to reply calmly, “So I never hurt you?”

The Frenchman frowned and pulled his face away in confusion at the lack of an immediate answer. “No,” Heero said, still a bit far away, “You never physically hurt me.”

“But…?”

There was a long silent moment as he ducked his head before admitting, “I wasn't suppose to become so attached. But when I lost you…”

He choked, “And now because I don't remember.” Heero nodded painfully, trying to not meet his eyes for once. “It… it still counts.” Trowa argued firmly.

“How so?” he softly urged, realising his hands were roaming across the expanse of Trowa's back to pull him closer.

The green-eyed soldier scooted near, wrapping his arms around the small waist to hold him tightly. “Because when it hurts that bad inside, there's that ache in your chest, right… right here.” His nose and cheek nuzzled up against Heero's chest, on the muscle directly above his heart. “The pressure… you c'n't breathe and it hurts, physically.” His hand slid to just below the sternum where the pressure was centred most of the time.

“You--”

“I've felt like that ever since I woke up without my memories. It only started to fade when you said we were friends and I could stay here with you tonight…” His breath hitched. “I'm so going to regret this whole thing when I finally remember, aren't I?”

Heero snorted, but it was short and soft and stifled. “Neither of us are very comfortable being so open… But maybe, perhaps this has its benefits? We will know later how we feel, without the awkwardness…”

“It was always awkward between us, wasn't it?”

He hummed, shifting his arm to envelope the auburn-haired young man more fully. “My training doesn't let me get close to anyone.” he whispered in reply, “You have your own set of reasons. But despite that, we managed to come together and become friends and trust each other with things no on else ever has.”

Trowa gave a harsh sigh, hands twisting the turtleneck in their tight grip. “And then I left.”

There was a long silent pause. Then the younger soldier repeated quietly, “And then you left.”

Please forgive me -- If I need you like I do
Please believe me -- Every word I say is true
Please forgive me -- I can't stop loving you
The one thing I'm sure of is the way we make love

The room fell back into a comfortable silence. This time Heero didn't bother trying to sleep, just laid there holding him. It was enough.

When his watch beeped softly the passing of another o'clock, Trowa shifted against him. Nervousness rang through his form and the other could feel it just as surely as he could see it on the angular face peering up towards him.

“Do you really think I'll remember everything again?” he whispered. Heero nodded, not trusting his voice and unable to come up with the words anyhow. He was watching the door though, seeming to not be focused on the question. Trowa frowned, eyes climbing up and down the immovable force of the other pilot's body, “Would we… still be together if I do? I mean, obviously there was a reason we broke apart, right? So…”

Deep blue eyes turned to give him a confused, pained look. “We broke apart not because there was a problem with us but because of the war. Battle took me to space while it kept you on Earth.”

The frown deepened at the uncertain tone. “And yet,” Trowa mused, “you are unsure if we would have stayed together if it weren't for the war? Or that we would stay apart afterwards?”

Heero flinched, his whole body jerking with a pinched expression on his open face. “Battle brought us together.” he offered.

“And?”

“And it might not be enough to keep us together.”

He turned, startled, towards Trowa when a soft hand landed on his cheek. A thumb swiped gently across the apple of his cheek, “You and I are… we have issues.”

Heero shrugged. “I mean that we are not strong enough separately to allow ourselves to be strong as a pair. We understood that, and when we parted it was on friendly terms because we knew we could not have a real relationship.”

“How come? Why can't we be together if the war's over?” Green eyes stared so openly into his own that Heero was caught off guard. Amnesic-Trowa never looked anyone in the eye, and tonight he had done so several times. Even before he knew about the past -- what did that mean?

“It… it's about some of those things I don't want to talk about.”

Trowa pursed his lips and looked away, his hand dropping. Heero swept it back up into place, holding it to his cheek with a firm hand. “I only hold back because I care,” he stuttered, unused to the feelings backing the words up.

“And if I asked?”

“Then I would tell you.”

The one thing I depend on is for us to stay strong
With every word and every breath
I'm praying
That's why I'm saying

There was another long silence between them, but it was uncomfortable and twitchy and lasted only a few minutes before Trowa spoke again. “Was it anything you did?”

Heero choked, jerking. “No!” he barked. He grappled for the body that flinched away, almost but not quite clinging. “I would never hurt you on purpose,” he hissed. The Japanese pilot swallowed, “I have on accident, but you always forgave me because it was stupid trivial things.” He hung his head. “Well, maybe a few times it wasn't so insignificant… But our problems had nothing to do with each other.”

“So.” Trowa nodded thoughtfully. “If I can trust you and we're just… victims of war, then what is stopping us from overcoming those, er, issues?”

“Ourselves.” he replied without really thinking. Trowa raised an eyebrow at it, but shrugged it off and scooted over a little closer. Their hips matched up against each other's and chests pressed together, the Frenchman hovered his face before the younger shifted and gave him a chaste kiss.

Heero relaxed as the other accepted and returned it, hands moving to hold the strong shoulder and hip and thus keeping them close. “Then I… I want us to be back together, Heero. Even if I remember what exactly it was that we broke up because of, I know that it doesn't really matter. I still… love you, I think, subconsciously. I can feel it.”

Their eyes searching the other's despite the small distance that wouldn't allow them real focus, Heero nodded. “For now the war comes first,”

“As always,”

“But you will still be second, and afterwards…”

“Afterwards… if it still doesn't work out, then we don't have to come up with excuses. If it does, then…” He gave a tiny, crooked smile. His hand swept up to brush the chocolate fringe away, his thumb lingering on the delicate eyebrow. Heero pulled him before he could make the move and the long silence this time was only because their mouths were too busy for speech.

A long thigh shifted, lying over top Heero's hip, as they moved to find a more comfortable and access-giving position. “Let me…”

“Let you do what?”

Heero frowned, his brow knitting before he ducked in for another kiss. “Let me love you.”

Please forgive me -- I know not what I do
Please forgive me -- I can't stop loving you
Don't deny me this pain I'm going through
Please forgive me if I need you like I do

The hand he had on Trowa's hip slid down a little, massaging the flesh beneath it.

“I…”

“It won't be the third time,” he promised in a murmur, “You're not ready, and I would never take advantage of your condition.”

Green eyes looked away for some moments. “Why not? I don't have my issues right now, it would be the perfect time to--”

“No.” Heero clenched his jaw, a hand spasming almost painfully around the Frenchman's thigh. “It would be a betrayal to you, me knowing what I do and going through regardless. I would hate for you to get your memory back and hate me because I can't keep it in my pants,” he sneered. “I meant it when I promised not to hurt you. And I meant it when I said I would love you -- this is not about me, it's for you, to show you that I don't care about our issues. With or without them, I care about you.”

The auburn-haired pilot nodded and shifted, a long thigh slipping up to hang over Heero's hip. His hands ran up the firm chest beside him, “I care about you too.” A hand dragged further up to trail along the olive jaw with dainty fingertips. The touch made him shiver.

He pushed against Trowa until he knelt above the longer form, leaning in to suckle at the long white throat. The dip in his collarbone made him writhe a little when Heero licked it, firm hands massaging still at the thighs beneath him. Trowa slid one hand down to rest on the cusp of the Japanese's buttocks where it joined his thigh, just as a hand cupped the front of his jeans.

“Wait… wait,” His breath hitched as Heero jerked back to watch him cross his arms over his chest. He shivered violently against the cold as a phantasmagoria of memories hit him. The onslaught of it all hit him full on, the blurred glimpses of blonde hair and mixed emotional waves proving almost too much. Trowa twitched back, trying to get away and curl up at the same time, breathing heavily.

“…safe. It's alright, I'm not him, Tro,” Heero's voice filtered through the haze of harsh grunts and cussing sounding only in his ears. He gulped for air, opening his eyes to lock on the concern blue orbs staring down at him. Calloused but gentle hands touched his face and those cobalt eyes softened considerably when he did not flinch. “Okay now?”

Trowa nodded instead of verbally answering, still too breathless. Heero gave him a wan smile and managed in a strained voice, “Just think what would have happened if I went all the way like you asked.” He winced.

“Glad you know me so well.” He choked out a chuckle, letting go of himself only long enough to grasp onto the Japanese pilot's form as he lied beside him. “You know me better than I do…”

“Yeah.” After a long moment, he shifted, pressing a kiss to the pale forehead. “I'm sorry. That wasn't what I thought it'd be like… It, I was stupid, didn't mean to hurt you. That totally backfired…”

Trowa shrugged and snuggled in further, still trying to banish the unfamiliar bunker from his mind. “How'd you know…?”

Heero chewed on his bottom lip for a long moment before replying, “Some of it I could presume, from your reactions and some things you had said. But the specifics, well, the one time you ever blew up at me, some stuff slipped out.” The other pilot nodded idly before shifting a little closer, enveloped comfortably in his arms. “You go on and sleep. They're expecting a battle in the afternoon… I really am sorry, I thought it would be, well, romantic.”

He nodded, “Good thing you don't love me for my sexual escapades.”

Heero snorted, “Good thing you love me in spite of my idiocy.” Trowa shook his head but let the diligent petting of his hair lull him into the first peaceful sleep he could remember.

Babe, believe it
Every word I say is true
Please forgive me if I can't stop loving you
No, believe I don't know what I do

When he woke up, the lights had been turned on automatically for the ship's day-cycle. The room looked different, of what he could see anyway, because he was still firmly embraced inside two strong but gentle arms. Trowa looked up, blew his disarrayed fringe out of his face, and gazed up at the smiling blue eyes watching him.

“You're awake,” he murmured, then cleared his throat and gave the waist in his grip a light squeeze.

Heero smiled with his mouth this time. “I couldn't fall asleep,” he replied lightly. His neck tilted in an awkward position so he could lean close enough to lay a chaste kiss on the pale forehead. At the last second, Trowa realised what he was doing and tilted his own face up to meet the lips with his own.

It was only a peck, but it was the first kiss he'd initiated since the day he admitted his feelings. The tension in the Asian pilot's shoulders sapped out noticeably with relief.

“You're going to be tired then, it's a long day.”

“It's worth it.” Green eyes narrowed in imploration. “I got to watch you sleep… You…” Heero had to look away and clear his throat before continuing, “You could never sleep with me holding you. It was hard enough when we shared a bed, but…”

Trowa managed a small, sad smile. “It's too bad we can't take the day off.”

The Japanese solider snorted. “After the war, we'll have all the time in the world.”

“… And if we don't survive?”

“We will. We must.” Heero assured him. With another small kiss to his brow, he began detangling the mess of blankets. “I didn't go through all that crap learning to love you just to lose you again after I find out you feel the same way.”

They stumbled their way out of the bunk, Trowa dutifully bent over so not hit his head again, and grabbed the flight suit from where it hung off the top bunk's footrail.

They were almost out the door, ready to join the others in the mess hall for breakfast and debriefing, when Trowa stopped smoothing down his hair and quit walking. “What if… what if we're wrong?”

“About what?”

“About this. About… us. What if it's not really love? What if it's only friendship and loyalty?”

Heero frowned, pursing his lips. “Does it matter? We care for each other, deeply and different from any other way before and different from anyone else. Whatever it is, I don't want to lose it. So what if we call it the wrong name? You and I don't go by our real names and it doesn't change who we are.”

Trowa nodded, reaching out to grip his hand for a long moment. “Let's go. OZ isn't going to wait.”

“But we can.” Heero smiled. “We've waited for so long already, another battle isn't going to matter.”

“No. Not this time,” he agreed.

Please forgive me -- I can't stop loving you
I can't stop

owari