Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Touched ❯ Chapter 2

Touched

(2 / 7)

Pairing : 2x5x2

Rating : R overall

Warnings : Yaoi, lime, mild angst/sap/violence

Disclaimer : GW belongs to Sunrise, Sotsu and Bandai. I wish I owned it though.

Summary : A mission finished at the expense of one pilot getting hurt. Two boys find themselves sharing space in the same safehouse, and finding a connection while learning to live with each other.

+++++ : Change of scene

~~~~~ : Scene break

< > : Recalled speech

// // : Thoughts

A/N : This doesn't follow the canon storyline. ^_^ Feedback appreciated!

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Duo's troubles began before dawn.

The sky hadn't even started to lighten and again, like the days before, Duo was awake even before he knew it. He supposed his body had already attuned itself to the other pilot's movements.

Wufei was just at the bedroom doorway when Duo sat up on the couch. For a moment, they just eyeballed each other, until Wufei looked away guiltily.

Duo got up slowly, feeling his muscles protesting, and crossed his arms. "Bathroom again, Wufei?"

The Chinese pilot flushed, mouth opening and closing again, obviously wanting to lie and say yes but unable to do so under Duo's scrutiny. "I'm tired of sleeping," he said at length, sounding like a cranky child, which under these circumstances, was probably not far from reality.

"I'm only asking you to rest," Duo retaliated.

"I don't need any more rest," Wufei crossed his arms in an imitation of Duo's stance. "*You* need more rest. Not me."

Well, that was a valid point, but Duo wasn't budging. He shook his head resolutely. "We *both* need more rest. Now go back."

"But - "

"One hour."

"But - "

"I'll carry you back and sing nursery rhymes in your ear!"

The threat worked. Duo rubbed his temples as he watched the Chinese pilot scowl darkly before turning on his heels and trudging back to where he came from. He heard the rustle of bedsheets and, satisfied Wufei obeyed for now, Duo looked out of the window. Still dark. He yawned and collapsed back onto the couch. Truthfully speaking, it was getting a little difficult for him to tell the hours apart, with him waking and sleeping at such odd hours. He closed his eyes, hoping to catch a bit more sleep.

He'd need all his energy contending with his difficult patient.

++++++++++

Duo's troubles continued even in the evening.

It wasn't really anything major, to Duo at least. Wufei had taken a bath, refusing any help, and subsequently needing one hour to finish bathing. The Chinese pilot had then stumbled out of the bathroom, wincing from his one-armed battle with water and wounds, face plastered all over with wet raven locks. Duo had said nothing to that, but given him The Look.

And now, Wufei was struggling with dressing his own wounds, a task which essentially, was progressing little.

"I can do this on my own, Maxwell!"

"Go ahead," Duo shrugged.

He perched himself rather jauntily on the edge of the bed, and simply stared. And waited. He knew his help would be asked for, soon. To be honest, he did feel a bit of a bastard over this. Whatever little he knew of Wufei, he did *know* that the Shenlong pilot would probably rather die than display any shred of weakness to others. Except he would not allow himself to die yet; not when the War was still raging on. And Duo was taking advantage of that very fact.

A sullen Chinese pilot glared back. It was a simple matter of dressing one's own injuries. Except when they were located on the arm and back, coupled with disturbingly piercing violet orbs trained on you, the whole business suddenly became a mountainous challenge.

Slim copper fingers quickly and efficiently cleansed the arm wound with disinfectant solution. A bandage, caught between teeth and same fingers, woven around the arm, securing the wound. Done. Wufei paused for a moment, trying to steady his breathing. Those little movements had taken more out of him that he cared to admit. He sneaked a glance at Duo, instantly miffed to find the irrepressible American casually examining the fingernails on one hand, an air of sheer smugness practically *permeating* from him.

//I do not need help from *him*. Anyone but him.//. It inevitably became a mantra in his head as Wufei twisted his upper body, trying to reach the nasty gash on his back. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem, if not for the arm wound, which jarred every time he stretched, and left him winded with pain. Wufei clenched his teeth, wishing he had at least locked himself in the bathroom to do this, so he wouldn't have to look such a disgrace in front of a flaming, bright-eyed boy who probably couldn't tell the difference between strength and weakness.

Duo crossed his arms. He was still waiting. After all, patience was truly a virtue. He could wait for all day if necessary, just to get the stubborn ass of a Chinese pilot to ask him for help. Duo had felt a strange pang of loss when Wufei had, over the days, gradually but surely, morphed back into his usual prickly self after the exhaustion had cleared. Duo found it hard to reconcile the meek, almost-trusting boy he had talked to sleep with this narrow-eyed, uptight warrior.

"Maxwell," a strained voice, but no less sharp than it had been before. "Duo."

The clamp of teeth that punctuated the last word echoed in the suddenly silent room. Snapping obsidian fire met and arrested intense violet light.

Duo made sure his grin was securely in place, knowing it infuriated the Shenlong pilot. He'd be damned if he had spent all this time nursing Wufei, only to have the proud warrior youth order him around now. And as he watched the obstinacy on Chang's face waver, he knew he had won this round.

"Ma - Duo. Would you help me with my back? Please?"

Duo looked up in surprise. Sure, he had wanted Wufei to ask for his help, but he hadn't actually thought the Chinese youth was capable of such…well, such humility in those carefully chosen words.

"I never repeat myself, Duo," came a grated reminder.

"Oh, sure! Since you asked so nicely," Duo flashed a brilliant grin at his grim-faced fellow pilot, before bobbing over and sitting himself comfortably behind him.

Duo stared at the expanse of back presented to him. Smooth skin, like liquid caramel, rippling over bunched muscles. Duo felt an odd sense of dismay to see the various healed scars and marks marring the skin. Scars were nothing; his own body was covered with them as well, but there was just something not quite right in seeing them on someone else. Then there were the new wounds, which could have killed Wufei. Duo breathed in shakily. This was really not the time to be obsessing over death, especially since Wufei had recovered this quickly. //Think optimistic.// Duo chided himself, and recalled how light Wufei had weighed in his arms. //Gotta get him to eat more.// Duo resolved as he picked up a washcloth and began cleaning up the wounds.

Caramel skin tensed at the first touch of cloth and fingers, but gradually eased as the contact began to feel more reassuring than uncomfortable.

Not a word passed between them. Duo went through his task, feeling strangely subdued. He wanted to say something - anything - to beak the unearthly silence, but no words would commence. So, he concentrated on dressing the wounds, especially that nasty gash. He was so intent on his task that it took a moment before he noticed the Chinese pilot was unconsciously leaning back into his touch.

That startled Duo so much he nearly dropped the swathes. He recovered quickly, forcing his attention back to his job, trying his best to ignore the suddenly much closer proximity of the other pilot's body. The faint musky scent of sandalwood and incense…and Wufei. Duo's fingers paused, quivering in their frozen position, his mind desperately trying to regain control of his errant thoughts.

"Do it, Maxwell. I will not break," came a quiet command.

Duo breathed a silent sigh of relief. Wufei had obviously assumed his hesitation was borne of fear of hurting him. Duo resumed his job, applying solution that he knew would hurt like hell, hesitating minutely when he heard the Shenlong pilot hiss in pain. That was all from Wufei - sharp intakes and exhalations of breath to indicate he felt any pain. Not a groan. Not even a muffled cry or anything.

"Aren't you tired of playing tough?" the words came out of Duo's mouth without his bidding. And he regretted them immediately.

Wufei's back stiffened under Duo's fingers. "Aren't you tired of playing happy?" he shot back.

Duo paused, taken aback by that statement. Somewhere in his body, he felt something ache. It wasn't a bad ache; more like the kind of soreness that accompanied his being read like a book by someone else. How apt it was that Wufei could see through his cheer as clearly as he could see through Wufei's steel. Guess that's fair, then. Duo began winding the bandages around Wufei's torso.

"We're pathetic, you know," he laughed ruefully.

"You're the pathetic one!" Wufei scoffed, but Duo thought he could hear the smile in that gruff tone.

"All right, I'm pathetic," Duo said agreeably. "But you're the one looking like a mess. Want me to tie up your hair for you?" he suggested. He wasn't kidding actually. Unbound and wet as it was, Wufei's hair looked like a nest. It also made him look so much more benign, even boyish, but Duo supposed it must be annoying him to bits.

Wufei twisted around a little so his suspicious glance was visible to Duo. "You?"

"Sure!" Duo nodded earnestly. He picked up the end of his braid and showed it to Wufei. "If I can do *this*, I can do yours."

Wufei still looked uncertain.

"And I promise," Duo managed to keep a straight face. "No pigtails."

~*~ fin Chapter 2 ~*~