Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Raging Rain ❯ Chapter 2
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: markanovanlink 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 05.01.2007 | Updated On: 05.01.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.7K | Visits: 113 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 05.01.2007 | Updated On: 05.01.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.7K | Visits: 113 | Status: Work In Progress
Raging Rain 2
By Markanovanlink
Rated R (Yaoi, POV, Violence and Suspense)
Pairings 3x4
Plot (Trowa has something to tell Quatre, but will it get them killed.)
Loud cracking and popping noises came from tiny missiles that launched themselves through the old wooden cabin. I felt one buzz past my ear as I was roughly pulled to the ground. I could see Trowa mouth the words “stay down” through clenched teeth as he crawled towards the fire place. My eyes widen when he put his hand in the fire. He had managed to grab a flaming log and fling it towards the door of the cabin. Within seconds, the door was engulfed in flames that started to spread to the window and walls of the cabin.
The fire had seemed to cause the gunfire to momentarily stop. I instinctively went for my gun but Trowa grabbed me by the arm and said, “we have to leave now.” I was able to grab it before he drug me to the back of the cabin. We ran madly through the woods. I held on tightly to the wet blanket as my feet were being cut by rocks and sticks. It was cold, dark, wet…and wait…we are both running naked!
I slammed right into a wet naked back. Trowa had stopped running and never flinched as I ran into him. When he turned to face me, I realized he was holding our damp and wrinkled clothes. I felt myself moan in frustration as we picked through the rain soaked fabrics in a rush. I dropped my blanket and vigorously pulled my pants up my legs. He wasn’t able to get my shirt or jacket so I pulled the blanket around my shoulders again.
I watched as Trowa slid into his black turtle neck and pants. The rain clad fabric made it a chore for him. Neither of us had socks, shoes or jackets. I cant wait to get out of this mess so I can take a bath and put on some boxes. The way these wet pants were clinging to my externals made me feel real uncomfortable. As Duo would put it, I was ‘free ballin’(1).
We started running again. My feet were going numb with pain and cold. Does he even know where he is going? Pavement…I feel pavement under my feet. Our running decreased into a slow walk as we walked pass useless gas pumps. My guess, this is an old abandon gas station. My eyes scan the area as I raised the frost biting metal in my hand. The gun’s surface made my skin numb. Numb or not, I have to stay alert at all times. Any moment can be one’s last during a time of war.
We crotched down in front of a pump. We allowed ourselves a moment to rest as we looked around with our eyes. The only things present were a few pumps and concrete. I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened them, Trowa took off in a run. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t yell out his name. I ran after him. What the hell? Where is he…a truck…he found an old pickup.
I put my hand on the rusty red hood of the pickup truck so I could catch my breathe. I watched as Trowa opened the door of the truck and got in. I am positive that if it was unlocked it wouldn’t work. But you cant say that to a mechanic. Trowa popped the hood and started to tinker with the engine.
I walked around the back of the truck and opened the passenger’s side door. I climbed in and closed it. I sank into the cold leather seat as if it was a hot bath. A hot bath would be lovely right about now. As I tried to look through the rain ravished windshield, the engine started to sputter. Did he have any tools in his hands when he got out? When you are really hungry, tired and cold, attention to detail seems to be impossible. Everything that just happened in the last few hours felt like a blur.
As Trowa continued his work on the truck, I opened the glove compartment. Inside were some old tattered papers and a big hunting knife. I picked up the weapon and squeezed the green rubber handle. This feels much better than my gun. I put the gun in the glove compartment and closed it.
Just then, the vehicle started. Trowa slammed the hood and hopped into the truck. I was impressed. He fixed an engine with no tools and a burnt hand. Oh wow, I can really be a blonde sometimes. I forgot about his arm. As he closed the door, I reached for his arm.
“Let me see.”
“I am fine. Are you okay?”
“I am okay, just give me your arm.” He sighed and let me pull his sleeve up. “Does it hurt?” I am not sure why I said that. It seems that people always ask that dump question when others are hurt.
“Not really.”
“It seems that you only burnt the palm of your hand. I am going to wrap it, okay.” He nodded as I picked up the hunting knife. I used it to start a tear on the blanket. With my hands, I ripped some fabric off and started to wrap Trowa’s hand. As I wrapped his hand, his fingers would touch…more like caress my hand. This made me feel weird so I hurriedly finished.
“Thank you,” was all he said. He put the truck in gear and we took off. We rode in silence for ten minutes. The silence started to cause a swarm of questions to bombard my mind. Trowa kissed me. I kissed him back. Am I gay? Does kissing him make me gay? How can I be gay? What can a man do with another man? How can a man be with another man. Why do I feel so confused?
Okay, if a man is gay that means he is attracted to other men. The question I should really be asking myself is; am I attracted to Trowa?
I closed my eyes and thought about the kiss we shared. I liked how his lips felt against mine. It felt good when he pulled me close to him, but do I find him attractive? I opened my eyes and glanced at his face. His eyes are beautiful. I am really drawn to them. There is so much emotion in them. Those green orbs tell stories his face and voice wont.
What am I doing? I cant be gay. My culture wouldn’t allow such behavior. I could disgrace my family’s name and tarnish my father’s memory. What about my faith? Killing is wrong, but I do it in the name of peace. Oh Allah, how am I to be judged?
I sigh inwardly and pull the cold wet blanket closer to my body. The sound of raging rain explodes against the windshield as old wipers defensively squeak against the evasion. “I’m sorry.” His voice was so low that I almost didn’t hear him.
“For what?”
“Endangering you and your mission for my own personal reasons.”
“Look, it’s okay. Lets just pretend none of this ever happened.” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because he veered the pickup off the road and into a ditch. “What the hell! What’s wrong with you?” I was furious. We are on the run from soldiers and he wants to act like this. Irrational! I glare at him only to receive a smirk.
“We have a flat. You can amuse me with the other reason you thought I pulled over.” He opened his door and hopped out to go check on the tire. I feel so embarrassed right now. I didn’t mean to yell at him or accuse him of being irrational. Maybe I am becoming irrational. I don’t know what is going on in my mind right now. All I know is that I am confused.
I open the glove compartment and retrieve my gun and place both my weapons in the pockets of my pants. I open my door and step out onto the muddy dirt and rocks. I hate not having my shoes. I closed the door and pull the blanket tighter around me as I approached him.
He hit the flat tire with an old rusty crowbar as he mumble the words, “no spare.” The rain made it hard to see his face. I coughed as I reached into my pocket. I handed him the hunting knife and started to walk away from him and the truck.
I needed sometime to my self. I need to think. My stomach starts to growl and ache. I sigh again and wished I had a turkey sandwich or something. I think back to the times when all of us had hid together.
Our hideaways would sometime include a kitchen, which would inspire Duo to buy food that he didn’t know how to cook. One of us always ended up cooking instead. I must say that Trowa was the best cook. Wufei would be next in line and Heero…well lets just say, don’t let him cook any meats.
Its funny you know, until now I never noticed how even food could show how one feels about you. I thought about every meal I have eaten by the others and then I think about how Trowa fixed my meal. He was the only one who would prepare something different for me due to my religious diet. Duo loved pork and pork products, but I am not allow to eat such meats. I don’t ever remember telling him or any of them for that matter what my religion was, but somehow Trowa always knew.
Do we have a special connection? Maybe it is more than just the sin of the flesh. Oh Trowa, how have I allowed you to tempt me so?
After three miles of walking in this damn rain, I turn around to see if he had followed me. He wasn’t there. Nothing but dark road and rain. I continue to walk and wonder where he could be. He will be okay. He is a Gundam pilot.
I sneeze as two headlights come into view. I extend my arm and place my thumb in the air. Yes I am hitchhiking. Sometimes you got to do what you got to do in order to stay alive. Right now I am cold, lost, tired and hungry. What would you do?
The car drives pass me and starts to slow down. I run up to the lowering passenger side window. The owner of the beat up caddie asks me where I am heading. “A nearby rest stop.”
“Get in, I will take you to the one up the road.” I say thanks as I get in and put my seatbelt on. The driver says his name is Bob and he is a truck driver. He is a heavyset middle aged man with a gray and brown goatee that surrounds an ocean of freckly red skin. His hat, flannel shirt, and pants screamed truck driver.
“So what in the Sam’s Tar hills are you doing out here in this weather?”
“I was carjacked.”
“Sorry to hear that. Did they take all your money too?”
“Yes, my shoes and the shirt off my back. I am just lucky that is all they did. I wasn‘t injured or anything.”
“I see. You know someone like you shouldn’t be riding alone on a highway like this. There are no towns or rest stops for miles.” My heart starts beating faster as I listen to him speak. One, he lied about the rest stop being up the road. Two, I feel his bad intentions towards me.
I start to smile at him as I respond. “Then I am thankful that you have gone out of your way to help a stranger.” I want to think better of people. I hope he doesn’t try anything.
“Well maybe you should show me how grateful you are.” When he places his hand on my thigh, my heart is overcome with all his disgusting lustful emotions. I want to throw up and get as far away from him as possible. I instinctively put my hand in my pocket and finger the gun.
“This is far enough thank you. I can walk the rest of the way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I really appreciate what you have done so far.” He pulls over to the side of the road and shuts the car off. He stares at me while I take off my seatbelt. I mumble, “thanks for the ride,” as I try to open the door. Of course the door doesn’t open and the lock doesn’t work. I remember this one night that me and Duo stayed up and watched this horror movie about a guy who would kill blonde female hitchhikers. How ironic?
“Why are you in such a rush? It’s pouring outside you would be safer in here, with me.”
“Look, I don’t want to start any trouble. Just let me out.”
“You know, you are real demanding. I find that sexy.” What the hell is wrong with everyone today. Am I on the menu or something? I don’t want to be any one’s boyfriend or victim. As he starts to come closer to me, I slap his hand away and demand to be let out again. I guess I am pushing him into doing the right thing.
He brings his hand back and rubs it with the other. “What the hell is that for?” I raise an eyebrow to his question but don’t answer. How far would he go? Has he done this to other people? What would he do to have his way with someone? A hard fist to my face brought me out of my musing. “Look you little slut, I will be the one doing all the hitting around here.”
I will admit to it, I didn’t know he would punch me in the mouth. I guess I am being to careless or is it that I am not use to dealing with civilians. I am only use to dealing with soldiers. The only other people I have ever been around have been my family, servants, politicians, the Gundam pilots, Rasid and the others. This is real funny, not being able to know a pervert when I see one.
He hits me again, I am to tired to block his attack so I take it. He grabs me by the neck and pushes me against the seat and door. I don’t fight or bring my hands up in defense. I am just waiting for the right moment. He fidgets with the side of my seat until it reclines all the way down. His grip on my neck starts to loosing as he climbs over me and onto my seat.
He lets go of my neck and starts to reach for his belt. He really is a dumb ass. I pull my gun out and place the barrel on his forehead. “Now, I am going to only say this once. Open your fucking door!”
(1) Free ballin - The wearing of pants or shorts without any underwear on.
By Markanovanlink
Rated R (Yaoi, POV, Violence and Suspense)
Pairings 3x4
Plot (Trowa has something to tell Quatre, but will it get them killed.)
Loud cracking and popping noises came from tiny missiles that launched themselves through the old wooden cabin. I felt one buzz past my ear as I was roughly pulled to the ground. I could see Trowa mouth the words “stay down” through clenched teeth as he crawled towards the fire place. My eyes widen when he put his hand in the fire. He had managed to grab a flaming log and fling it towards the door of the cabin. Within seconds, the door was engulfed in flames that started to spread to the window and walls of the cabin.
The fire had seemed to cause the gunfire to momentarily stop. I instinctively went for my gun but Trowa grabbed me by the arm and said, “we have to leave now.” I was able to grab it before he drug me to the back of the cabin. We ran madly through the woods. I held on tightly to the wet blanket as my feet were being cut by rocks and sticks. It was cold, dark, wet…and wait…we are both running naked!
I slammed right into a wet naked back. Trowa had stopped running and never flinched as I ran into him. When he turned to face me, I realized he was holding our damp and wrinkled clothes. I felt myself moan in frustration as we picked through the rain soaked fabrics in a rush. I dropped my blanket and vigorously pulled my pants up my legs. He wasn’t able to get my shirt or jacket so I pulled the blanket around my shoulders again.
I watched as Trowa slid into his black turtle neck and pants. The rain clad fabric made it a chore for him. Neither of us had socks, shoes or jackets. I cant wait to get out of this mess so I can take a bath and put on some boxes. The way these wet pants were clinging to my externals made me feel real uncomfortable. As Duo would put it, I was ‘free ballin’(1).
We started running again. My feet were going numb with pain and cold. Does he even know where he is going? Pavement…I feel pavement under my feet. Our running decreased into a slow walk as we walked pass useless gas pumps. My guess, this is an old abandon gas station. My eyes scan the area as I raised the frost biting metal in my hand. The gun’s surface made my skin numb. Numb or not, I have to stay alert at all times. Any moment can be one’s last during a time of war.
We crotched down in front of a pump. We allowed ourselves a moment to rest as we looked around with our eyes. The only things present were a few pumps and concrete. I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened them, Trowa took off in a run. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t yell out his name. I ran after him. What the hell? Where is he…a truck…he found an old pickup.
I put my hand on the rusty red hood of the pickup truck so I could catch my breathe. I watched as Trowa opened the door of the truck and got in. I am positive that if it was unlocked it wouldn’t work. But you cant say that to a mechanic. Trowa popped the hood and started to tinker with the engine.
I walked around the back of the truck and opened the passenger’s side door. I climbed in and closed it. I sank into the cold leather seat as if it was a hot bath. A hot bath would be lovely right about now. As I tried to look through the rain ravished windshield, the engine started to sputter. Did he have any tools in his hands when he got out? When you are really hungry, tired and cold, attention to detail seems to be impossible. Everything that just happened in the last few hours felt like a blur.
As Trowa continued his work on the truck, I opened the glove compartment. Inside were some old tattered papers and a big hunting knife. I picked up the weapon and squeezed the green rubber handle. This feels much better than my gun. I put the gun in the glove compartment and closed it.
Just then, the vehicle started. Trowa slammed the hood and hopped into the truck. I was impressed. He fixed an engine with no tools and a burnt hand. Oh wow, I can really be a blonde sometimes. I forgot about his arm. As he closed the door, I reached for his arm.
“Let me see.”
“I am fine. Are you okay?”
“I am okay, just give me your arm.” He sighed and let me pull his sleeve up. “Does it hurt?” I am not sure why I said that. It seems that people always ask that dump question when others are hurt.
“Not really.”
“It seems that you only burnt the palm of your hand. I am going to wrap it, okay.” He nodded as I picked up the hunting knife. I used it to start a tear on the blanket. With my hands, I ripped some fabric off and started to wrap Trowa’s hand. As I wrapped his hand, his fingers would touch…more like caress my hand. This made me feel weird so I hurriedly finished.
“Thank you,” was all he said. He put the truck in gear and we took off. We rode in silence for ten minutes. The silence started to cause a swarm of questions to bombard my mind. Trowa kissed me. I kissed him back. Am I gay? Does kissing him make me gay? How can I be gay? What can a man do with another man? How can a man be with another man. Why do I feel so confused?
Okay, if a man is gay that means he is attracted to other men. The question I should really be asking myself is; am I attracted to Trowa?
I closed my eyes and thought about the kiss we shared. I liked how his lips felt against mine. It felt good when he pulled me close to him, but do I find him attractive? I opened my eyes and glanced at his face. His eyes are beautiful. I am really drawn to them. There is so much emotion in them. Those green orbs tell stories his face and voice wont.
What am I doing? I cant be gay. My culture wouldn’t allow such behavior. I could disgrace my family’s name and tarnish my father’s memory. What about my faith? Killing is wrong, but I do it in the name of peace. Oh Allah, how am I to be judged?
I sigh inwardly and pull the cold wet blanket closer to my body. The sound of raging rain explodes against the windshield as old wipers defensively squeak against the evasion. “I’m sorry.” His voice was so low that I almost didn’t hear him.
“For what?”
“Endangering you and your mission for my own personal reasons.”
“Look, it’s okay. Lets just pretend none of this ever happened.” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because he veered the pickup off the road and into a ditch. “What the hell! What’s wrong with you?” I was furious. We are on the run from soldiers and he wants to act like this. Irrational! I glare at him only to receive a smirk.
“We have a flat. You can amuse me with the other reason you thought I pulled over.” He opened his door and hopped out to go check on the tire. I feel so embarrassed right now. I didn’t mean to yell at him or accuse him of being irrational. Maybe I am becoming irrational. I don’t know what is going on in my mind right now. All I know is that I am confused.
I open the glove compartment and retrieve my gun and place both my weapons in the pockets of my pants. I open my door and step out onto the muddy dirt and rocks. I hate not having my shoes. I closed the door and pull the blanket tighter around me as I approached him.
He hit the flat tire with an old rusty crowbar as he mumble the words, “no spare.” The rain made it hard to see his face. I coughed as I reached into my pocket. I handed him the hunting knife and started to walk away from him and the truck.
I needed sometime to my self. I need to think. My stomach starts to growl and ache. I sigh again and wished I had a turkey sandwich or something. I think back to the times when all of us had hid together.
Our hideaways would sometime include a kitchen, which would inspire Duo to buy food that he didn’t know how to cook. One of us always ended up cooking instead. I must say that Trowa was the best cook. Wufei would be next in line and Heero…well lets just say, don’t let him cook any meats.
Its funny you know, until now I never noticed how even food could show how one feels about you. I thought about every meal I have eaten by the others and then I think about how Trowa fixed my meal. He was the only one who would prepare something different for me due to my religious diet. Duo loved pork and pork products, but I am not allow to eat such meats. I don’t ever remember telling him or any of them for that matter what my religion was, but somehow Trowa always knew.
Do we have a special connection? Maybe it is more than just the sin of the flesh. Oh Trowa, how have I allowed you to tempt me so?
After three miles of walking in this damn rain, I turn around to see if he had followed me. He wasn’t there. Nothing but dark road and rain. I continue to walk and wonder where he could be. He will be okay. He is a Gundam pilot.
I sneeze as two headlights come into view. I extend my arm and place my thumb in the air. Yes I am hitchhiking. Sometimes you got to do what you got to do in order to stay alive. Right now I am cold, lost, tired and hungry. What would you do?
The car drives pass me and starts to slow down. I run up to the lowering passenger side window. The owner of the beat up caddie asks me where I am heading. “A nearby rest stop.”
“Get in, I will take you to the one up the road.” I say thanks as I get in and put my seatbelt on. The driver says his name is Bob and he is a truck driver. He is a heavyset middle aged man with a gray and brown goatee that surrounds an ocean of freckly red skin. His hat, flannel shirt, and pants screamed truck driver.
“So what in the Sam’s Tar hills are you doing out here in this weather?”
“I was carjacked.”
“Sorry to hear that. Did they take all your money too?”
“Yes, my shoes and the shirt off my back. I am just lucky that is all they did. I wasn‘t injured or anything.”
“I see. You know someone like you shouldn’t be riding alone on a highway like this. There are no towns or rest stops for miles.” My heart starts beating faster as I listen to him speak. One, he lied about the rest stop being up the road. Two, I feel his bad intentions towards me.
I start to smile at him as I respond. “Then I am thankful that you have gone out of your way to help a stranger.” I want to think better of people. I hope he doesn’t try anything.
“Well maybe you should show me how grateful you are.” When he places his hand on my thigh, my heart is overcome with all his disgusting lustful emotions. I want to throw up and get as far away from him as possible. I instinctively put my hand in my pocket and finger the gun.
“This is far enough thank you. I can walk the rest of the way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I really appreciate what you have done so far.” He pulls over to the side of the road and shuts the car off. He stares at me while I take off my seatbelt. I mumble, “thanks for the ride,” as I try to open the door. Of course the door doesn’t open and the lock doesn’t work. I remember this one night that me and Duo stayed up and watched this horror movie about a guy who would kill blonde female hitchhikers. How ironic?
“Why are you in such a rush? It’s pouring outside you would be safer in here, with me.”
“Look, I don’t want to start any trouble. Just let me out.”
“You know, you are real demanding. I find that sexy.” What the hell is wrong with everyone today. Am I on the menu or something? I don’t want to be any one’s boyfriend or victim. As he starts to come closer to me, I slap his hand away and demand to be let out again. I guess I am pushing him into doing the right thing.
He brings his hand back and rubs it with the other. “What the hell is that for?” I raise an eyebrow to his question but don’t answer. How far would he go? Has he done this to other people? What would he do to have his way with someone? A hard fist to my face brought me out of my musing. “Look you little slut, I will be the one doing all the hitting around here.”
I will admit to it, I didn’t know he would punch me in the mouth. I guess I am being to careless or is it that I am not use to dealing with civilians. I am only use to dealing with soldiers. The only other people I have ever been around have been my family, servants, politicians, the Gundam pilots, Rasid and the others. This is real funny, not being able to know a pervert when I see one.
He hits me again, I am to tired to block his attack so I take it. He grabs me by the neck and pushes me against the seat and door. I don’t fight or bring my hands up in defense. I am just waiting for the right moment. He fidgets with the side of my seat until it reclines all the way down. His grip on my neck starts to loosing as he climbs over me and onto my seat.
He lets go of my neck and starts to reach for his belt. He really is a dumb ass. I pull my gun out and place the barrel on his forehead. “Now, I am going to only say this once. Open your fucking door!”
(1) Free ballin - The wearing of pants or shorts without any underwear on.