Wounds (cont)

Duo's teeth clenched down on the rubber as Heero began adding pressure with the help of Wufei and Trowa. Agony tore through his arm and he gripped Quatre's hand like death (no pun intended), cutting off the blonde boy's circulation. Had he not been immobilized by the other two, Duo would have reacted out of instinct and struck out at Heero. And I would never forgive myself for that. Duo's vision went white and red as the pain came. He felt only the pressure in his arm. Hearing large pop and crack, Duo was reminded of Heero setting his own leg. He made a note never to tease the other boy about it ever again. Then, abruptly, the pain stopped. He was vaguely aware that he'd been screaming, as his throat had suddenly become raw. He felt them wrapping the splint, felt himself release Quatre's now bruised hand. He glanced apologetically at the blonde.

"Gomen, Quatre," he whispered, earning a gentle hand running through his hair.

"I just hope we'll never have to do that again."

"Arigatou, guys," Duo added as Trowa and Wufei began cleaning up their used supplies and the blood on the table. For the first time, Duo noticed the blood. It was his. Heero followed the direction his gaze as he stared with morbid fascination.

"You gave us quite a scare, Duo," the Japanese pilot sighed, memorizing the other boy's features. He never wanted anything like this to happen again, but he would do all he could not to forget Duo anyway. Heero didn't notice when moisture began collecting at the edges of his eyes, forming tears in his long lashes. Duo did though and reached up with one bandaged finger to brush them away before he realized what he was doing. The other three boys had long since departed to the kitchen, though three sets of eyes were curiously peering out from the doorframe.

"You know, we shouldn't be spying," Quatre hissed trying to pull away only to find Trowa's hand firmly pushing him back to where he was.

"This is the only entertainment we get. And it's becoming more interesting," the green eyed boy replied.

"A lot more interesting," Wufei whispered when Duo's hand reached out to wipe away Heero's tears.

"Shhhh. . ." the other two hissed.

Had the perfect soldier not been in shock, he would have heard them. But, luckily for them, all of his attention was focused on Duo, who was sucking one finger, tasting the moisture there.

"Hey, they're real," he grinned slightly, even though it made his face hurt.

"Hai. Is it surprising?" Heero felt a wave of defensiveness wash over him. He had emotions, he really did. And they were just as real as those tears.

"That you can cry? Not really. I know you're human, Heero. That you're crying because of me . . . I think I may die of shock." Duo's voice had become even softer, gentle, as he studied the other boy's face. Concern. Anger. Grief. Something else . . . what was it?

"You're not allowed to die of shock," Heero said firmly. His expression had turned deadly.

Duo had a feeling if he did die, Heero would resurrect him, just so he could kill him. Omae o korosu, right my friend? Maybe a friend. Something else . . .. Is that what the tears are for?

"I'm not allowed? Ooo, now there's rules. Tell me Soldier Boy, what other rules must poor, defenseless 'ol me follow?" Duo's grin widened. He was curious about this.

"No dying. Not yet anyway." Heero meant this; the tears had come back. Again, with a hand that shook slightly, Duo wiped them away.

"Ite. My rule. No crying for me, Heero. Not for me." Duo fixed Heero with a glare of his own.

"No, not telling us when you're in pain. It's gonna take you a while to get over this. It will take a lot longer if you don't let us know when you're hurting." The Maxwell death-glare was nothing compared to look he was getting from the Wing pilot. All he could do was nod.

"No missions, not for a while. You're going to take it easy, if I have to strap you to that couch." Another glare.

"Ite! You'd like that wouldn't you?" Duo managed to laugh, though it was more of a weak chuckle.

<GLARE>

"Okay, okay. Point taken. Anything else?"

"We will punish you as we see fit, Duo. None of us like being lied to. And we want to know when something is wrong." Heero's voice took on that pained quality that Duo had noticed earlier.

"I said I was sorry . . . . Is that it?" Duo wondered how many aspirin it would take to cure him after this round of Wufei's justice rants.

"One more," Heero bent over him, leaned down--distantly Duo wondered why his heart seemed to have stopped beating and if he should tell his friends--and kissed him, gently. When he pulled away he smiled slightly at Duo's stunned expression.

"You're not allowed to tell anybody I just did that," the Japanese boy finished softly. He would have walked away after that, but one bandaged hand, bruised but still retaining most of its strength, grabbed a good portion of his tank top and dragged him back.

"Wait a minute, Yuy. You're not getting away that easily," Duo was vaguely aware of Heero whumphing back into the chair he'd pulled up to the couch. His face felt flushed and he couldn't stop the adrenaline from racing through his battered system.

"Wh--what was that for?" he asked.

"Ummmm . . . ."

"Um? All you can say is um?!?!?"

"Are you angry with me?" Heero wondered aloud, letting the barest hint of his apprehension into his voice. He'd been praying that Duo wouldn't reject him, but the tone of the other boy wasn't exactly helping his doubts.

+

Meanwhile, in the kitchen . . .

"Oh my god! Did you see that?"

"Did you see Duo's face?" <Snicker>

"Wonder what he's going to do?"

"Shh. . . ."

+

"Of course I'm not mad at you! I'm just wondering if you've been possessed or if . . . if . . . you meant that." Duo reached out one hand to push the spiky brown bangs of the way. He couldn't exactly read the expression in the Prussian blue eyes, but he could see the hope and fear there.

"I'm not possessed. And I did mean it. I'm sorry." Heero hung his head, his bangs flopping once more in front of his eyes. Duo made a note to take a pair of scissors to the hair later. Meanwhile, he grabbed a handful and pulled his partner closer, secretly reveling the silky feel of the dark brown strands. He stopped when Heero's nose was mere millimeters away from his own. The Perfect Soldier's breath warmed his skin gently. For a moment the two boys were drowning in pools of violet and blue until time seemed to stop.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Duo smiled slightly and kissed the Wing pilot, more than a little pleased when the other boy responded to him. He was nearly in heaven when managed to get his tongue in Heero's mouth. The Perfect Soldier moaned slightly, obviously just as happy. When they finally did come up for air (if they hadn't they would have suffocated), Duo managed to get his hand under the infamous green tank top and. . . well, let's just say he was having a really good time. He whined a little when Heero pulled away.

"Hey! Get back here!" he hissed, missing the other boy's warmth already.

"Not tonight Duo. You're still injured. I'm not going to hurt you, not now." The dull (or maybe not quite so dull anymore) monotone ended that argument, freezing Duo's words in his throat. He stuck his tongue out at Heero and sulked.

"Don't tempt me Duo." Another order. The tongue obediently went back into the mouth and Heero relaxed visibly.

"Ai shiteru," he whispered softly, after several moments of Duo simply watching and studying him through huge, violet eyes.

"Love you too, Hee-chan," the American grinned.

+

In the kitchen . . .

"I can't believe it."

"Believe it."

"They actually . . ."

"Yep."

"One thing to say to both of them."

"What's that?"

"It's about time."

+

Now Heero was more than fully alert and strode to the kitchen door with a sense of purpose. When he opened it and a pile of Wufei, Trowa and Quatre tumbled out, his expression turned from pleased to not very quickly.

"Got three words for these busybodies," Heero smirked slightly.

"I've heard those before," Duo called from the couch.

"Omae o korosu."

"Ahhh!! Run!" There was great scrambling of feet as the four pilots roared around the house, one wielding a gun and the other three searching for weapons amongst furniture, books and lava-lamps. While they were upstairs, Duo wondered if this would be a good time to escape from them. He hadn't forgotten that a punishment awaited him when he got better and the best way to avoid such was to escape while his limbs still worked.

Creeping off the couch, he started to sneak the kitchen, hoping to grab some food on his way out. Yet when a calloused hand gripped the end of his braid, he wasn't surprised, not really. He doubted anyone could get away from Heero that easily. With the help of his comrades, whom he'd decided could live for the moment, the Perfect Soldier deposited the boy he loved onto the couch, rewrapped in a half dozen blankets. Though he wasn't aware of it, Duo still had a fever and Heero wasn't about to let it get any worse.

"You are not going to escape, Maxwell," Wufei growled, his expression mirroring Heero's.

"Can't blame me for trying," Duo pouted, even though he was truly glad they had helped him, had tended to him. Without the others he would've been in deeper shit now, still trying to fix his own body.

"Yes, we can," Quatre replied, firmly planted himself in the chair opposite the couch. Trowa joined him, snuggling closer.

"Oh, great, I'm never gonna get an ounce of privacy after this," part of him didn't care. When had these people become his friends?

"Nope. We're not going to leave you alone," Heero smirked at him.

"You know, I was hoping you'd say that." Duo squeezed the Japanese boy's hand."Good."

"This is getting so mushy." Wufei looked slightly green watching the two couples.

"So?"

"So you all look like a scene out of some bad soap opera. I thought it was sappy with one couple," Wufei glowered, then jumped to his feet.

"Where ya going?" Quatre watched him through sleepy, half-opened eyes.

"Maxwell's still injured. I'm gonna make some soup."

"Aww . . . Wufei that's so sweet," cooed Duo in a fake syrupy voice, "Whadaya think, Heero, wanna start a threesome?"

"Nope, you're mine, baka. And there's nothing you can do about it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

<smooch>

"Oh, Nataku, what did I do to deserve this?" Wufei wailed, heating water for the soup. Inwardly he was smiling. Everything was as it should be.

Order has returned, my love, said his Nataku, in his mind.

~*~Owari~*~

[back] [back to Lyssira's fic]