Goodbye LJ...

[windandwater]

This is just to make it official for those who don't know, but I'm leaving LJ completely. For the rest of this week at least. Tomorrow is the Bar Exam and it runs for three days, so don't expect to see me about at all until Thursday night. Or even until the weekend since I plan on spending Thursday after the Bar drunk and crying. No online time for me at all. *whines* It will be hard, but I know I can do it.

So, because I'm a total h0r like that, I am declaring this to be a spam post. Go ahead. Run wild! Give me fics, give me links, give me pics, just babble to your heart's content and rape my inbox so I have something to see when I finally DO come back to the wonderful world of LJ. I don't even care if you write me a drabble and post it one word at a time. XD;

Though, I've tried to make a spam post before and it failed a bit miserably, so I don't have very high expectations this time around. Feel free to prove me wrong though!

♥

Comments

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Wufei didn’t answer right away, instead pulling out several sheets of paper and spreading them flat on the table for his officers to view. Vant leaned forward to study them more closely... scout’s reports...? and gasped as their meaning sunk in.

In a quiet voice, Wufei announced, “Oz is moving again.”

“Gods preserve us...” Vant muttered, and looked back up at the General. “Where?”

“To the north,” Wufei replied. “I’ve already sent out a reconnaissance team to confirm... but I don’t think it’s any mystery where they’re headed.”

Heero looked up as though coming out of some internal dream, blinking to clear his vision. “Kinekell?” he asked.

Wufei bent his head in agreement. “Almost certainly.”

One of Vant’s lieutenants stirred, and spoke up. “What makes you so certain they’re going to that city?”

“It’s the largest city anywhere in a fifty-mile radius,” Wufei explained, his tone one of irritation at having to explain an obvious fact. Obvious to him, anyway. “And hardly a trivial border village. It’s well within the boundaries of King Jay’s kingdom. So far they have only nibbled away at the edges of his country. But if they can secure Kinekell, before winter sets in... then they will hold a substantial city of Jay’s territory, for months before any retaliation can be launched. The impact would be... devastating.”

“That’s true,” Vant said, and shivered at the thought of Oz eating away pieces of his home country. “But is that enough? They have other options.”

“You forget the mines,” Heero put in, voice calm and flat. “The Kinekell area has some of the richest metal deposits in the Five Kingdoms. Oz needs those resources, badly.”

“Damn.” Vant dropped back in his chair, stunned. “We can’t let them...”

“Of course we can’t,” Wufei snapped irritably. “And they know that perfectly well. They’re attempting to force our hand. And right after I sent the division south...” He trailed off into silence, hands cinched tightly on the tabletop. “Damned convenient timing,” he muttered.

“Time...” Vant shook himself out of the shock. “How much time do we have? It will... take some time, to prepare, to get the men moving...”

“First we need to confirm their intentions,” Wufei said, forcing himself to loosen the grip. “And that will take a few days. But we need not sit idle during that time.”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Heero nodded slightly in agreement. “It will take them at least a week to reach Kinekell from their former position,” he concluded. “Since we control the ford at Baruji, they will have to travel farther north to cross the Victoria river.” He caught Vant’s eyes and held them. “That was part of the reason we fought for Baruji’s ford in the first place.”

Vant dragged his eyes to the side -- Heero’s tone had been emotionless as always, but the challenge was hidden in there nonetheless. Six years Heero’s elder, Vant technically outranked him -- it was Heero who had been originally ordered to return to Zion, but Vant had considered Baruji’s Ford a lost cause and pulled rank to send Heero to Baruji in his place. General Chang hadn’t said a word about it, but it was nonetheless a shadow over his name. “That doesn’t matter right now,” he said a little too loudly. Of course it did. “Right now we have to concentrate on intercepting the Oz force before they reach Kinekell.”

Wufei gave him a look that stated in no uncertain terms that he had not missed anything that had gone on. “Well, gentlemen,” he said acidly, pushing the pages forward and leaning backwards in his chair, “that’s what your job is. We may have some time, but it will hardly be enough.”

“I understand, General,” Vant replied, subdued. Heero just nodded silently, and, without further fanfare, stood and walked out.

As soon as Heero had left the tent, Vant collapsed in his seat with an overdramatic sigh of relief. “He’s just past the limit,” he muttered.

“You have something to say, Vant?” Wufei said dryly. Vant met his superior’s gaze and flushed, stammering.

“I only meant... Don’t you think Colonel Yuy was acting rather... tense?”

Wufei gave a sharp, dry laugh as he pushed back his chair and stood. “Interesting choice of words, Colonel. He’s had a... tense week.” The smile vanished from his face, leaving no hint that it had ever existed. “Get used to it. The next week will be worse.”



Heero Yuy had been a soldier all his life; raised in a training camp, taught weapons from the time he could walk, and tactics from the time he could speak. There was nothing that could erase that part of him, and most of his mind whirred away as coldly as the gears of a clock, counting and analyzing and already planning for the dangers ahead. But there was more to Heero Yuy than there had been once, and there was a new part of his mind unconcerned with battles and tactics and war. Instead, as he made his way back to his retreat, part of him dwelled on the concept of gratitude.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Heero nodded slightly in agreement. “It will take them at least a week to reach Kinekell from their former position,” he concluded. “Since we control the ford at Baruji, they will have to travel farther north to cross the Victoria river.” He caught Vant’s eyes and held them. “That was part of the reason we fought for Baruji’s ford in the first place.”

Vant dragged his eyes to the side -- Heero’s tone had been emotionless as always, but the challenge was hidden in there nonetheless. Six years Heero’s elder, Vant technically outranked him -- it was Heero who had been originally ordered to return to Zion, but Vant had considered Baruji’s Ford a lost cause and pulled rank to send Heero to Baruji in his place. General Chang hadn’t said a word about it, but it was nonetheless a shadow over his name. “That doesn’t matter right now,” he said a little too loudly. Of course it did. “Right now we have to concentrate on intercepting the Oz force before they reach Kinekell.”

Wufei gave him a look that stated in no uncertain terms that he had not missed anything that had gone on. “Well, gentlemen,” he said acidly, pushing the pages forward and leaning backwards in his chair, “that’s what your job is. We may have some time, but it will hardly be enough.”

“I understand, General,” Vant replied, subdued. Heero just nodded silently, and, without further fanfare, stood and walked out.

As soon as Heero had left the tent, Vant collapsed in his seat with an overdramatic sigh of relief. “He’s just past the limit,” he muttered.

“You have something to say, Vant?” Wufei said dryly. Vant met his superior’s gaze and flushed, stammering.

“I only meant... Don’t you think Colonel Yuy was acting rather... tense?”

Wufei gave a sharp, dry laugh as he pushed back his chair and stood. “Interesting choice of words, Colonel. He’s had a... tense week.” The smile vanished from his face, leaving no hint that it had ever existed. “Get used to it. The next week will be worse.”



Heero Yuy had been a soldier all his life; raised in a training camp, taught weapons from the time he could walk, and tactics from the time he could speak. There was nothing that could erase that part of him, and most of his mind whirred away as coldly as the gears of a clock, counting and analyzing and already planning for the dangers ahead. But there was more to Heero Yuy than there had been once, and there was a new part of his mind unconcerned with battles and tactics and war. Instead, as he made his way back to his retreat, part of him dwelled on the concept of gratitude.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

It was new and unfamiliar, and Heero was not quite certain how it worked. But that a link, a certain bond existed between himself and Colonel Vant was now undeniable. Heero was not too terribly concerned with position or prestige, and it did not bother him if the older man felt the need to outrank him. But Vant’s division had originally been assigned to Wufei. If the Colonel had not insisted on returning to Zion, then Heero Yuy would never have come to Baruji. He would never have found Duo. And he would never have known the idea of gratitude.

A faint smile quirked Heero’s lips as his own familiar tent came into view. It was all so terribly neat and circular. His steps quickened; his body was drawn on by the promise of light and sanctuary, and he could not have turned his feet away from that path had he tried. Not that he would try, to deny himself and his fragile newborn heart. He would never push Duo away from him again.

Duo looked up as Heero entered the tent, and his face lit up with joy. “Heero!” He pushed himself up on the bed, and made as though he would force himself to stand. Before he could make the attempt, though, Heero closed the space and wrapped his arms around Duo, pulling the other boy down as he sat on the bed. “Hello, Duo,” he breathed quietly, his face buried in Duo’s hair.

Duo’s eyes slipped closed as his lips curled upwards. He could feel the beat of Heero’s blood throughout his body, the soft rasp of his breathing. The soldier’s warmth, even his presence alone was enough to beat away the cold and the loneliness of the world. The gods had chosen to grant him a miracle, that Heero could possibly love him -- Duo could stay here, and marvel in that, forever.

At last he sighed, and pulled away a bit to speak. “Your meeting didn’t take long?” he asked warmly, letting his good humor leak into his voice. “Normally they run so long I want to kill myself from boredom just thinking about how dull it must be...”

Heero shook his head, glad for it. “It wasn’t much more than a debriefing,” he stated. A faint tinge of regret stole over his features, into his words. “But tomorrow’s meetings will be long, and I will have so many things to do.”

Duo’s breath caught, and his wide eyes searched Heero’s face. He too felt the certainty of danger on the horizon. “What did General Chang have to tell you?” he asked, all seriousness now.

There was an undercurrent of trepidation in his voice, and one that Heero understood; Wufei had never given Duo reason to feel anything but fear of him. Heero hated to involve Duo in this war -- he’d suffered enough by it, that the soldier only wished that Duo would never so much as have to hear about it again. And now this news... and now this. But Duo should know. He deserved to know. And needed to know. “Oz is moving again,” he said at last.

Under Heero’s touch, Duo went completely still. Heero stroked his hands gently over Duo’s hair as he explained. “North of here, towards a town called Kinekell. They’ll be there in about a week, so we do have a little time.” He spoke aloud as he thought it out, schedules and plans and calculations. “Wufei already sent out a reconnaissance party, and they should return tomorrow, or the day after. It’s a day’s travel from here to Kinekell, two days for infantry. It will take three days until the army is ready to move, maybe four, depending on how much trouble...”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“But you’ll be able to save the town?” Duo said, his voice colored with urgency.

Heero could not forget the village of Duo’s childhood, that had been razed by an Oz army just like this one. “Yes. We can’t let them take the town.”

Duo lowered his head again, resting against Heero’s chest. After another moment, he spoke again. “You have to go with them, don’t you?” he said, quiet, resigned. “I know.”

Heero’s heart clenched painfully, and his arms tightened around Duo. He hadn’t wanted to think about that. This would be the first time, that he would be forced to leave Duo, and face the fear that he might not come back. This would be the first time that he left something behind when he took his place in the ranks. The first battle he’d fight where he did not half wish to die. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t want to leave you, my heart. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” Duo said firmly. “You have to lead them. I understand.” He pushed away from Heero’s protective grasp, and smiled a little fiercely. “Go out and kick some Oz butt for me, huh, Heero?”

That’s right, Heero remembered. This will be the first time I have something to fight for. “I will.”

Duo gathered his legs in front of him and crossed his arms on his knees, resting his chin on them. After a moment he turned his face sideways, looking back at Heero. “You’ll come back, right, Heero?” Hopeful words.

“Of course,” Heero said firmly. “This isn’t the first time we’ve fought against them -- and we hurt them badly in the last battle. With the reinforcements from Zion, the odds are in our favor. We will win. I’m certain.”

“Good.” Duo blew out a deep breath, and nestled his face in his arms. “Good.”

Heero shifted on the bed, and laid his hand on Duo’s back. There was a slight trembling in the warmth, that told him not all was well. “Duo?” he said softly.

“S’ok.” He looked up again, smiling wryly. “It’s okay. I just wish... I just wish that I could go with you.”

Alarmed, Heero clutched the boy closer. “Duo, no. It’s not safe. I can’t --”

“I know,” Duo interrupted, gently and a little sadly. He rested one hand on Heero’s shoulder, close by his, and then ran his hand down the arm to twine it with Heero’s hand. The rough, jagged scars on his palm caught on course fabric, dragged slightly on calloused skin. Duo sighed. “I know... you’ll have to leave your patchwork rag doll at home... that’s all.”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Heero frowned, gripping Duo’s hand in his; he didn’t like anyone, not even Duo himself, talking about his love like that. But he didn’t trust his voice to speak. In the distance between the lips and the ears, sound faded and changed. Better to speak skin to skin, soul to soul, if he could. He took Duo’s hand in both of his and studied it for a moment -- the puzzlework of slowly fading scars, the delicacy of tendon and bone. Silent, he raised Duo’s hand to his face and pressed the scarred palm against his cheek.

He felt Duo’s arm shift and twist, as the longhaired boy turned to look at him, but didn’t look up to see the shocked question on Duo’s face. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on Duo’s hand, gently brushing his fingers over the vein to feel the throbbing pulse. He turned Duo’s unresisting arm over, and ducked down to lay a kiss on the back of Duo’s hand.

The sudden intake of breath sounded very loud through the silence. “Heero?”

At last, Heero raised his eyes to meet Duo’s.



Duo stared at him, eyes wide and gone dark as an eclipse. Heero could feel the pulse in his wrist accelerate; his own heartbeat raced to match it. He had moved into a new place, one more step along the alien journey of heart and soul, and he had absolutely no idea what to do next.

After a moment, Duo moved, turning his hand to reach up and caress Heero’s face. His fingers slipped over Heero’s cheek, his lips -- that parted slightly under the touch -- and traveled upward, past his glittering eyes to dive into the dark, untidy hair. Head tilted to one side, he hesitated, then leaned in and kissed Heero long and deep.

By now it was a familiar feeling, a ritual of comfort that Heero knew and recognized -- the breath-sharing touch that he had used to save Duo’s life. But this was new, the way that Duo drank of his mouth, the electric sensations caused by his tongue sliding over Heero’s. It woke something inside of him, something almost hunger and almost pain but so much more glorious than either of them. Of their own accord, his arms slid up around Duo, rubbing gently over the deep scars on his back and urging him closer.

The longhaired boy readily obliged, inching forward until he was straddling Heero’s legs, with his chest pressed close against the soldier’s. Heero gasped, muffled against Duo’s mouth, and had to pull back just enough that he could search for an answer in Duo’s eyes. “Gods,” he whispered, his breath washing over Duo’s lips and receiving the warmth in return. “What... what are you doing to me, Duo?”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Heero frowned, gripping Duo’s hand in his; he didn’t like anyone, not even Duo himself, talking about his love like that. But he didn’t trust his voice to speak. In the distance between the lips and the ears, sound faded and changed. Better to speak skin to skin, soul to soul, if he could. He took Duo’s hand in both of his and studied it for a moment -- the puzzlework of slowly fading scars, the delicacy of tendon and bone. Silent, he raised Duo’s hand to his face and pressed the scarred palm against his cheek.

He felt Duo’s arm shift and twist, as the longhaired boy turned to look at him, but didn’t look up to see the shocked question on Duo’s face. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on Duo’s hand, gently brushing his fingers over the vein to feel the throbbing pulse. He turned Duo’s unresisting arm over, and ducked down to lay a kiss on the back of Duo’s hand.

The sudden intake of breath sounded very loud through the silence. “Heero?”

At last, Heero raised his eyes to meet Duo’s.



Duo stared at him, eyes wide and gone dark as an eclipse. Heero could feel the pulse in his wrist accelerate; his own heartbeat raced to match it. He had moved into a new place, one more step along the alien journey of heart and soul, and he had absolutely no idea what to do next.

After a moment, Duo moved, turning his hand to reach up and caress Heero’s face. His fingers slipped over Heero’s cheek, his lips -- that parted slightly under the touch -- and traveled upward, past his glittering eyes to dive into the dark, untidy hair. Head tilted to one side, he hesitated, then leaned in and kissed Heero long and deep.

By now it was a familiar feeling, a ritual of comfort that Heero knew and recognized -- the breath-sharing touch that he had used to save Duo’s life. But this was new, the way that Duo drank of his mouth, the electric sensations caused by his tongue sliding over Heero’s. It woke something inside of him, something almost hunger and almost pain but so much more glorious than either of them. Of their own accord, his arms slid up around Duo, rubbing gently over the deep scars on his back and urging him closer.

The longhaired boy readily obliged, inching forward until he was straddling Heero’s legs, with his chest pressed close against the soldier’s. Heero gasped, muffled against Duo’s mouth, and had to pull back just enough that he could search for an answer in Duo’s eyes. “Gods,” he whispered, his breath washing over Duo’s lips and receiving the warmth in return. “What... what are you doing to me, Duo?”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

There was a strange little smile on Duo’s face, as he ran his hand through Heero’s hair. “Tomorrow you will have things to do,” he murmured in return. “But we have a little time, tonight.” The little space between them was too far, and too cold; he pressed forward again, burying his face in Heero’s neck. His hand stroked down Heero’s back and side, and everywhere he touched, he trailed fire in his wake.

Awkwardly, unsure, Heero tried to copy Duo’s actions. Shifting position on the bed, he leaned back just far enough to pull Duo completely onto his lap. There was a heat he’d never known forming in the pit of his stomach, a tightness in his groin where it pressed against Duo’s thigh. One hand buried itself in the silky fall of Duo’s hair, while the other fumbled along the sharp line of Duo’s spine; down his lower back, and around the graceful curve of his hip.

Duo made a small sound, then, or else Heero might never have known -- but he was so attuned to his love’s body that he felt as much as heard the muffled choking noise against his shoulder. It was enough to distract him from the strange, heated thoughts, and he felt the tension build along Duo’s shoulders and down his back, drawing him tight. “Duo?” he muttered softly, but there was no response.

Alarm seeped into his mind, dashing away the building excitement under a flood of dread. He pulled away, grasping Duo by the shoulders and pushing him back, off his legs and onto the folds of the blanket. “Duo? What’s wrong?” Duo’s body was too limp under his hands, his motions too feeble. Heero took Duo’s chin in his hand, turning the face up to where he could see.

His worst fears were confirmed -- Duo’s eyes were flooded with silent tears, overflowing and tracking down over his cheeks. The shaking in his body was almost violent now, spreading from his chest out to his limbs. Duo’s expression was such a mixture of terror and absolute despair as Heero had never wanted to see on his face again. “Duo! Please, love, talk to me!”

Duo just shook his head, weakly, and curled in on himself as another choked sob escaped his control, and another. Heero reached out to caress his face comfortingly -- but Duo shuddered, and flinched away from his touch. Panicked, Heero detangled his body from Duo’s as best he could -- he wanted nothing more than to gather Duo into his arms, and soothe him, but he knew that would only make this worse. Instead, he pulled Duo back upright, steadying him on the blankets, and then moved away. “Oh, Duo... Gods, Duo, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking...”

“It wasn’t,” Duo gasped, and swallowed hard before he could speak. “It wasn’t you, Heero, it wasn’t you at all... it’s m-me... I’m sorry...”

“No!” Heero’s hands hovered in the air above Duo’s shoulders; what touch would be safe? Could he even take Duo’s hands without causing more suffering? “Don’t be sorry, love, just tell me what happened... tell me what’s wrong...”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

There was a strange little smile on Duo’s face, as he ran his hand through Heero’s hair. “Tomorrow you will have things to do,” he murmured in return. “But we have a little time, tonight.” The little space between them was too far, and too cold; he pressed forward again, burying his face in Heero’s neck. His hand stroked down Heero’s back and side, and everywhere he touched, he trailed fire in his wake.

Awkwardly, unsure, Heero tried to copy Duo’s actions. Shifting position on the bed, he leaned back just far enough to pull Duo completely onto his lap. There was a heat he’d never known forming in the pit of his stomach, a tightness in his groin where it pressed against Duo’s thigh. One hand buried itself in the silky fall of Duo’s hair, while the other fumbled along the sharp line of Duo’s spine; down his lower back, and around the graceful curve of his hip.

Duo made a small sound, then, or else Heero might never have known -- but he was so attuned to his love’s body that he felt as much as heard the muffled choking noise against his shoulder. It was enough to distract him from the strange, heated thoughts, and he felt the tension build along Duo’s shoulders and down his back, drawing him tight. “Duo?” he muttered softly, but there was no response.

Alarm seeped into his mind, dashing away the building excitement under a flood of dread. He pulled away, grasping Duo by the shoulders and pushing him back, off his legs and onto the folds of the blanket. “Duo? What’s wrong?” Duo’s body was too limp under his hands, his motions too feeble. Heero took Duo’s chin in his hand, turning the face up to where he could see.

His worst fears were confirmed -- Duo’s eyes were flooded with silent tears, overflowing and tracking down over his cheeks. The shaking in his body was almost violent now, spreading from his chest out to his limbs. Duo’s expression was such a mixture of terror and absolute despair as Heero had never wanted to see on his face again. “Duo! Please, love, talk to me!”

Duo just shook his head, weakly, and curled in on himself as another choked sob escaped his control, and another. Heero reached out to caress his face comfortingly -- but Duo shuddered, and flinched away from his touch. Panicked, Heero detangled his body from Duo’s as best he could -- he wanted nothing more than to gather Duo into his arms, and soothe him, but he knew that would only make this worse. Instead, he pulled Duo back upright, steadying him on the blankets, and then moved away. “Oh, Duo... Gods, Duo, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking...”

“It wasn’t,” Duo gasped, and swallowed hard before he could speak. “It wasn’t you, Heero, it wasn’t you at all... it’s m-me... I’m sorry...”

“No!” Heero’s hands hovered in the air above Duo’s shoulders; what touch would be safe? Could he even take Duo’s hands without causing more suffering? “Don’t be sorry, love, just tell me what happened... tell me what’s wrong...”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“I can’t!” Duo shuddered, and covered his face in his hands. “I only w-wanted to touch you... to feel you... but I c-can’t! Every time I feel like I... like I want something, then I’m just so afraid -- I can’t stop it! I’m sorry, Heero! It isn’t you, it’s not you at all, I swear... but I can feel them, still t-touching me, and I can’t stop them... I can’t control it, I’m sorry...”

“Just...” Heero took a breath; he could feel the edge of pleading creep into his voice. “Just tell me what to do, Duo. I don’t want to hurt you any more. What should I do?”

There was silence for a long moment, broken only by the gulping breaths as Duo fought to regain his composure. At last, he stirred and looked up at Heero, eyes wide and imploring and cheeks streaked with tears. “Just hold me?” he asked in a small voice.

“You’re sure?” Heero hesitated, though his arms yearned for Duo. The other boy swallowed once and nodded.

“I’m okay now. I just want you to hold me. That’s all,” he whispered, and Heero needed no further urging, sliding down the bedding to take Duo in his arms. Duo sighed and relaxed against him, and didn’t resist at all when Heero pulled them both backwards to lay down on the bed, Duo nestled securely in his arms.

He dared to reach up and stroke Duo’s hair, keeping his touch as non-threatening as he possibly could. His mind whirled with dark thoughts, longing for revenge that was far out of his grasp.

After a time, Duo stirred and whispered, “Are you angry?”

Heero blinked in the dimness, and his hand stilled. “Yes.” He felt Duo tensing, preparing to draw away, and hastened to clarify. “Not at you. At the bastards who hurt you. But never at you.”

A soft sigh was his only answer, and stillness the only action for a long time. Maybe he slept, or maybe he lay wide awake and watched the shadows chase each other across the dull canvas walls.



By morning he was again in charge and Duo was back to his old self. It worried Heero just a little that this was so; last night he had been upset, and so very frightened, that to see his normal cheerful manner was a bit unnerving. Could Duo really recover that quickly, or was he hiding? Why from Heero?

It was but one among many questions that Heero had no answers for -- questions that he was determined to resolve, before it was time for him to go. And if Duo could not give him his answers, Duo who was his key to human feelings, then he would find someone else who could.

He let his hand brush off of Duo’s shoulder as he settled him onto Quatre’s couch; Duo smiled up at him. Although the tent was smaller than Heero’s, it was filled with all the worldly possessions of two people in love and somehow seemed to burst with human feeling. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, Heero rather liked it -- the slightly exotic touches of Quatre’s things only served more to fascinate him.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“I can’t!” Duo shuddered, and covered his face in his hands. “I only w-wanted to touch you... to feel you... but I c-can’t! Every time I feel like I... like I want something, then I’m just so afraid -- I can’t stop it! I’m sorry, Heero! It isn’t you, it’s not you at all, I swear... but I can feel them, still t-touching me, and I can’t stop them... I can’t control it, I’m sorry...”

“Just...” Heero took a breath; he could feel the edge of pleading creep into his voice. “Just tell me what to do, Duo. I don’t want to hurt you any more. What should I do?”

There was silence for a long moment, broken only by the gulping breaths as Duo fought to regain his composure. At last, he stirred and looked up at Heero, eyes wide and imploring and cheeks streaked with tears. “Just hold me?” he asked in a small voice.

“You’re sure?” Heero hesitated, though his arms yearned for Duo. The other boy swallowed once and nodded.

“I’m okay now. I just want you to hold me. That’s all,” he whispered, and Heero needed no further urging, sliding down the bedding to take Duo in his arms. Duo sighed and relaxed against him, and didn’t resist at all when Heero pulled them both backwards to lay down on the bed, Duo nestled securely in his arms.

He dared to reach up and stroke Duo’s hair, keeping his touch as non-threatening as he possibly could. His mind whirled with dark thoughts, longing for revenge that was far out of his grasp.

After a time, Duo stirred and whispered, “Are you angry?”

Heero blinked in the dimness, and his hand stilled. “Yes.” He felt Duo tensing, preparing to draw away, and hastened to clarify. “Not at you. At the bastards who hurt you. But never at you.”

A soft sigh was his only answer, and stillness the only action for a long time. Maybe he slept, or maybe he lay wide awake and watched the shadows chase each other across the dull canvas walls.



By morning he was again in charge and Duo was back to his old self. It worried Heero just a little that this was so; last night he had been upset, and so very frightened, that to see his normal cheerful manner was a bit unnerving. Could Duo really recover that quickly, or was he hiding? Why from Heero?

It was but one among many questions that Heero had no answers for -- questions that he was determined to resolve, before it was time for him to go. And if Duo could not give him his answers, Duo who was his key to human feelings, then he would find someone else who could.

He let his hand brush off of Duo’s shoulder as he settled him onto Quatre’s couch; Duo smiled up at him. Although the tent was smaller than Heero’s, it was filled with all the worldly possessions of two people in love and somehow seemed to burst with human feeling. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, Heero rather liked it -- the slightly exotic touches of Quatre’s things only served more to fascinate him.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“It’s going to be pure chaos from now until the time we leave,” he told Duo regretfully. “If I won’t be with Wufei, I’ll be with the troops. Even if I’d rather be with you. Don’t expect me back until late.”

“I hadn’t planned to,” Duo flashed him a grin, and glanced sideways at where Quatre and Trowa stood unabashedly observing them. “Quatre still owes me from the last game; I’ve gotta give him plenty of time to catch up.”

Heero quirked a slight smile in return, and leaned down to lay a chaste kiss on Duo’s forehead. From the other side of the room, he heard Quatre’s exaggerated sigh and saw his swooning motion, but chose to stoically ignore them.

“Not nice to tease, Little One,” Trowa rebuked his lover quietly. “Heero’s confused enough without having you make fun of him.”

Quatre grinned back at the taller man. “I’m not completely making fun,” he reproached, a gleeful tone underlying his words. “I’m just so happy they’ve finally gotten their heads on straight... and aren’t they beautiful?” he added, making starry eyes towards Duo and Heero.

“Quatre,” Duo called across the room, “come over here so I can hit you.”

Sulking, Quatre dragged himself across the room and dutifully allowed Duo to smack him. “You are so mean,” he grumbled, rubbing the offended arm and glaring at the room indiscriminately.

Brushing Duo’s cheek one last time, Heero left him with a tender look as he paced quickly across the room. He paused on the way out, though, veering off his course to take hold of Trowa’s arm, and pull him to the back of the tent.

Trowa let himself be pulled along, although he raised the one visible eyebrow sarcastically. “Weren’t you in a hurry?” he inquired politely. “I thought you had a lot of things to do.”

“I do,” Heero replied, “and talking to you -- alone -- is first on the list.” There was enough background noise in the encampment today that even this far across the room was out of earshot.

He stopped in front of a table and pulled out the chair; Trowa took the unspoken invitation and sat, folding his hands easily on the tabletop in front of him. “What’s on your mind, Heero?” he said curiously.

Heero planted his hands on the table and leaned forward, eyes burning. “Explain sex.”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Trowa, even Trowa, stumbled over that one. For a long moment he just sat there, completely floored, before he managed a stunned “What... what exactly do you mean?” he choked out. “Ah... you mean sex between men?”

“No. I mean sex between armadillos,” Heero snapped out. “What in the hells do you think I’m talking about, Trowa? Something’s going on with Duo that’s so far outside my experience that I don’t even have the basic understanding of what’s happening!”

“Heero.” Trowa didn’t look up at him, leaving his eyes focused on his clasped hands. “This is not something to be approached lightly, don’t you see? I can’t tell you what to do...”

“Trowa, something’s hurting him,” Heero interrupted, deadly serious. “Something big. Something that still gives him nightmares and I don’t even know what not to do -- I don’t know when a touch or a word will soothe him, or send him into a panic. Before I can even think about making it better, I have to know what to do so as not to make it worse. Who would you rather I ask? Wufei? Quatre? Duo himself?” He snorted at the thought, but quickly sobered.

Trowa stared at him for a long moment and then sighed. “How much do you already know?” he said wearily. “And how much do you want to know?”

“Nothing,” Heero replied promptly. “And everything.”

Trowa blew out his breath, and leaned back in his chair. “This could take a while,” he warned.

“Then you’d better get started,” Heero replied firmly.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“What on Earth are they talking about?” Duo craned his neck towards the back of the tent, and the two dark heads bent across the table.

“Gods only know,” Quatre said, also looking. He could only see the back of Heero’s head, nodding intently at whatever Trowa was telling him; Trowa was occasionally gesturing to punctuate his statements

Duo looked back at his friend. “You know, there’s something weird if the two stone statues can carry on a more lively conversation than we can.”

Quatre shrugged, still staring at the two of them as though he could somehow read their lips. “What’s that old saying, that like minds run in the same vein. I think...” Quatre abruptly cut himself off, his eyes widening. I recognize THAT gesture! Please tell me they aren’t discussing what I think they’re discussing...

“Quatre?” Duo was looking at him, now, puzzled. Hastily, Quatre shifted around so that Duo, facing him, sat with his back to the other two boys.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he assured his patient, smiling brightly. “I’m sure they’re conferring on important army business. Nothing interesting at all. So tell me, Duo...”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“What on Earth are they talking about?” Duo craned his neck towards the back of the tent, and the two dark heads bent across the table.

“Gods only know,” Quatre said, also looking. He could only see the back of Heero’s head, nodding intently at whatever Trowa was telling him; Trowa was occasionally gesturing to punctuate his statements

Duo looked back at his friend. “You know, there’s something weird if the two stone statues can carry on a more lively conversation than we can.”

Quatre shrugged, still staring at the two of them as though he could somehow read their lips. “What’s that old saying, that like minds run in the same vein. I think...” Quatre abruptly cut himself off, his eyes widening. I recognize THAT gesture! Please tell me they aren’t discussing what I think they’re discussing...

“Quatre?” Duo was looking at him, now, puzzled. Hastily, Quatre shifted around so that Duo, facing him, sat with his back to the other two boys.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he assured his patient, smiling brightly. “I’m sure they’re conferring on important army business. Nothing interesting at all. So tell me, Duo...”

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Part of him, though he hated it, couldn’t wait for the army to leave. He could always hear, even when his mind was somewhere else, the constant unrelenting mutter in the background -- louder, now, with so much tension and anticipation in the air. Hearing them, always hearing them, he couldn’t fool himself with the illusion of solitude. He could not stand to have anyone’s eyes on him, not even for an instant, and the endless hum of voices was a ceaseless reminder of their pitiless gazes. It didn’t bother him when Heero was around -- Heero made him safe -- and Quatre or even Trowa’s presence could block it out. But he spent all too much time alone now, and sometimes the voices just got louder and louder until his mind whited out from their presence, and he would shake helplessly in the grip of a terror he couldn’t even put words to.

So part of him felt a vast relief that today was the last afternoon of the last day, and the troops would be moving out tomorrow. But the easing of the wordless panic only cleared the way for other fears, a little more abstract, but no less crushing for all that. Because Heero left tomorrow. He was going to meet them. And... and he had been very careful, to keep his words encouraging and his tone hopeful, but Duo was not stupid.

He might not come back.

Gods... Gods, what will I do if he doesn’t come back?

He hadn’t gone to Quatre’s today. There was at least a little of Heero’s presence that still hung about his tent, and Duo needed that right now. Besides which, walking through the camp, feeling all the eyes on him, was a torture he couldn’t endure right now. Not with the fear, the very real fear of losing Heero looming over his head.

Most of all, he hated feeling helpless. It was a sensation to which he was well accustomed, but it didn’t make this waiting any easier. If only there was something I could do... something I could do to help! But he was in no condition to fight; still on the crutches, he wasn’t even any use in the building and constructing and the preparations that included almost every other body in the encampment.

He blew out a breath in frustration, and then his eye fell on Heero’s desk. He smiled in spite of himself; Heero spent so much time in that chair, poring over the charts and maps and making the plans that would direct the fate of the thousands of soldiers under his care.

Sunlight filtered through the cracks and openings in the canvas roof, lighting the desktop -- the chair was positioned to take the best advantage of that light. It illuminated the parchment sheaf lying on the tabletop, loosely tied together with a piece of twine. The final draft, Duo knew. The plans that Heero had drawn up for the confrontation at Kinekell. His life would rest on how well formed they were.

Something I can do...

Duo pushed up from the bed, and carefully limped over to the desk, hesitating a moment before seating himself in the chair. Adjusting his seat minutely to take better advantage of the light, Duo pulled off the twine and shook the papers out over the flat surface. He bent his head over them intently, the low murmur of voices from beyond the walls momentarily forgotten.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Part of him, though he hated it, couldn’t wait for the army to leave. He could always hear, even when his mind was somewhere else, the constant unrelenting mutter in the background -- louder, now, with so much tension and anticipation in the air. Hearing them, always hearing them, he couldn’t fool himself with the illusion of solitude. He could not stand to have anyone’s eyes on him, not even for an instant, and the endless hum of voices was a ceaseless reminder of their pitiless gazes. It didn’t bother him when Heero was around -- Heero made him safe -- and Quatre or even Trowa’s presence could block it out. But he spent all too much time alone now, and sometimes the voices just got louder and louder until his mind whited out from their presence, and he would shake helplessly in the grip of a terror he couldn’t even put words to.

So part of him felt a vast relief that today was the last afternoon of the last day, and the troops would be moving out tomorrow. But the easing of the wordless panic only cleared the way for other fears, a little more abstract, but no less crushing for all that. Because Heero left tomorrow. He was going to meet them. And... and he had been very careful, to keep his words encouraging and his tone hopeful, but Duo was not stupid.

He might not come back.

Gods... Gods, what will I do if he doesn’t come back?

He hadn’t gone to Quatre’s today. There was at least a little of Heero’s presence that still hung about his tent, and Duo needed that right now. Besides which, walking through the camp, feeling all the eyes on him, was a torture he couldn’t endure right now. Not with the fear, the very real fear of losing Heero looming over his head.

Most of all, he hated feeling helpless. It was a sensation to which he was well accustomed, but it didn’t make this waiting any easier. If only there was something I could do... something I could do to help! But he was in no condition to fight; still on the crutches, he wasn’t even any use in the building and constructing and the preparations that included almost every other body in the encampment.

He blew out a breath in frustration, and then his eye fell on Heero’s desk. He smiled in spite of himself; Heero spent so much time in that chair, poring over the charts and maps and making the plans that would direct the fate of the thousands of soldiers under his care.

Sunlight filtered through the cracks and openings in the canvas roof, lighting the desktop -- the chair was positioned to take the best advantage of that light. It illuminated the parchment sheaf lying on the tabletop, loosely tied together with a piece of twine. The final draft, Duo knew. The plans that Heero had drawn up for the confrontation at Kinekell. His life would rest on how well formed they were.

Something I can do...

Duo pushed up from the bed, and carefully limped over to the desk, hesitating a moment before seating himself in the chair. Adjusting his seat minutely to take better advantage of the light, Duo pulled off the twine and shook the papers out over the flat surface. He bent his head over them intently, the low murmur of voices from beyond the walls momentarily forgotten.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

When everything at last was done that had to be done, the last rays of the sun still filtered through the dust, bathing the buildings in gold and the ground in red. Torches were being lit, for those whose work would go on long into the night, but they would not need Heero to direct them. So, for the first time, he chose to return to his tent rather than go on working through the night as was his usual habit.

He walked in with a greeting on his lips, but it froze as the unexpected scene jolted his eyes. His papers were not on the desktop. Across the room, Duo stood in the last patch of sunlight, his hands carefully angled to catch the light, head bent over the sheets. He looked up as Heero walked in, eyes wide and startled.

Heero couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “What are you doing?”

Duo smiled at him, lowering his arms. “Come and look at this,” he invited instead, the hitch still in his walk as he returned to the desk and spread the paper over the desktop. His spread hand covered over a webwork of lines, some in ink, and some -- still fresh and new -- in charcoal.

Biting back further demands for answers, Heero followed Duo’s invitation to sit. Duo moved his hand away, and Heero dropped his eyes to the paper. It took a minute for the markings to make sense to his mind.

When they did, he glanced back up and met Duo’s gaze, his first question replaced by new ones. He didn’t need to ask if this was Duo’s work -- it could hardly have been anyone else’s. “Why?” he asked instead, quiet again.

Duo leaned against the back of the chair to take the weight off his feet, leaning on hand on Heero’s shoulder and one hand on the desk. “It’s a good plan,” he answered. “But it could be better. You see? These hills, on the west side -- if you moved up here, and here,” he touched the new marks, “instead of staying in the box. You would be able to see farther, to shoot farther. Then, you could hold back here -- you wouldn’t need to press forward so far. Then you could move to where you need to be, once you’ve seen how things go. You could have more mobility.”

Heero was silent for a moment, digesting this. “But now the left flank is vulnerable,” he said quietly.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

When everything at last was done that had to be done, the last rays of the sun still filtered through the dust, bathing the buildings in gold and the ground in red. Torches were being lit, for those whose work would go on long into the night, but they would not need Heero to direct them. So, for the first time, he chose to return to his tent rather than go on working through the night as was his usual habit.

He walked in with a greeting on his lips, but it froze as the unexpected scene jolted his eyes. His papers were not on the desktop. Across the room, Duo stood in the last patch of sunlight, his hands carefully angled to catch the light, head bent over the sheets. He looked up as Heero walked in, eyes wide and startled.

Heero couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “What are you doing?”

Duo smiled at him, lowering his arms. “Come and look at this,” he invited instead, the hitch still in his walk as he returned to the desk and spread the paper over the desktop. His spread hand covered over a webwork of lines, some in ink, and some -- still fresh and new -- in charcoal.

Biting back further demands for answers, Heero followed Duo’s invitation to sit. Duo moved his hand away, and Heero dropped his eyes to the paper. It took a minute for the markings to make sense to his mind.

When they did, he glanced back up and met Duo’s gaze, his first question replaced by new ones. He didn’t need to ask if this was Duo’s work -- it could hardly have been anyone else’s. “Why?” he asked instead, quiet again.

Duo leaned against the back of the chair to take the weight off his feet, leaning on hand on Heero’s shoulder and one hand on the desk. “It’s a good plan,” he answered. “But it could be better. You see? These hills, on the west side -- if you moved up here, and here,” he touched the new marks, “instead of staying in the box. You would be able to see farther, to shoot farther. Then, you could hold back here -- you wouldn’t need to press forward so far. Then you could move to where you need to be, once you’ve seen how things go. You could have more mobility.”

Heero was silent for a moment, digesting this. “But now the left flank is vulnerable,” he said quietly.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Duo smiled. “Ah, but it’s not. Do you see? They can’t come through the trees there -- not if they want to stay in formation. They’ll have to take the eastern route, instead, if they want to advance at all -- and then you’ll have them outflanked already, and above them.”

After a minute of silence, Heero looked up again -- the clockwork gears already clicking away again. “But why?” he asked, again.

Duo didn’t answer right away, and when he did his voice was clinical, detached. “If you’re not as strong,” he said quietly, “and you know your enemy is stronger, then you don’t try to pit your weakness against their strength. Instead, you find strength in another place, and use it somewhere where your enemy is weak. But the Earth is stronger than an army of ten thousand men. If you can find a way to use that strength, then you can win no matter what the odds.”

Heero knew that Duo had once been a soldier, too -- that he’d once commanded men in a brutal, bloody war with a lot less margin for error than Heero had. He would not insult Duo by disregarding his advice, no matter how it went against the solid tactics grounding that he had been taught. He fell silent, trying to see it in his head, trying to fit his mind around the situation.

Duo didn’t press matters, waiting for Heero to work the matter through. Through Heero’s shirt, he could feel the knotted tension in his back where Duo’s hand rested. Shifting position so that his weight leaned on the back of the chair, Duo put both his hands on Heero’s shoulders and began to knead his sore muscles.

Even if he didn’t react, Heero was acutely aware of Duo’s hands on his back; he could feel the rock-hard tension of a long week of stress melting away under the touch. After a few minutes, when Duo’s hands moved from his shoulders up to his neck, Heero set down the papers and pushed his chair back.

Duo paused, surprised, as Heero stood up and turned to face him; he started to pull his hands back, thinking he’d somehow hurt Heero, but the other boy quickly took hold of his hands. “You shouldn’t be standing on that leg,” he remarked quietly.

Reminded, Duo winced as he shifted position slightly. “Oh... yeah,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I almost forgot about that.”

“Hn.” Without letting go of Duo’s hands, Heero guided him back over to the bed and pushed him down onto it, turning him so that he sat sideways on top of the blankets. After a moment, Heero sat down behind him.

Puzzled, Duo was about to twist his head around to look at Heero, when he felt strong, warm hands press slightly against his shoulder blades. For a moment they stayed there, and then began to move, as Heero repaid him for the backrub in kind.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Duo smiled. “Ah, but it’s not. Do you see? They can’t come through the trees there -- not if they want to stay in formation. They’ll have to take the eastern route, instead, if they want to advance at all -- and then you’ll have them outflanked already, and above them.”

After a minute of silence, Heero looked up again -- the clockwork gears already clicking away again. “But why?” he asked, again.

Duo didn’t answer right away, and when he did his voice was clinical, detached. “If you’re not as strong,” he said quietly, “and you know your enemy is stronger, then you don’t try to pit your weakness against their strength. Instead, you find strength in another place, and use it somewhere where your enemy is weak. But the Earth is stronger than an army of ten thousand men. If you can find a way to use that strength, then you can win no matter what the odds.”

Heero knew that Duo had once been a soldier, too -- that he’d once commanded men in a brutal, bloody war with a lot less margin for error than Heero had. He would not insult Duo by disregarding his advice, no matter how it went against the solid tactics grounding that he had been taught. He fell silent, trying to see it in his head, trying to fit his mind around the situation.

Duo didn’t press matters, waiting for Heero to work the matter through. Through Heero’s shirt, he could feel the knotted tension in his back where Duo’s hand rested. Shifting position so that his weight leaned on the back of the chair, Duo put both his hands on Heero’s shoulders and began to knead his sore muscles.

Even if he didn’t react, Heero was acutely aware of Duo’s hands on his back; he could feel the rock-hard tension of a long week of stress melting away under the touch. After a few minutes, when Duo’s hands moved from his shoulders up to his neck, Heero set down the papers and pushed his chair back.

Duo paused, surprised, as Heero stood up and turned to face him; he started to pull his hands back, thinking he’d somehow hurt Heero, but the other boy quickly took hold of his hands. “You shouldn’t be standing on that leg,” he remarked quietly.

Reminded, Duo winced as he shifted position slightly. “Oh... yeah,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I almost forgot about that.”

“Hn.” Without letting go of Duo’s hands, Heero guided him back over to the bed and pushed him down onto it, turning him so that he sat sideways on top of the blankets. After a moment, Heero sat down behind him.

Puzzled, Duo was about to twist his head around to look at Heero, when he felt strong, warm hands press slightly against his shoulder blades. For a moment they stayed there, and then began to move, as Heero repaid him for the backrub in kind.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

His hands were so terribly strong... but gentle, as they kneaded down along the line of his spine and up again. They had to be; Duo had little of Heero’s thick muscle, and the bones in his back stood out sharply. It would have been easy to mash the flesh to the bone, but Heero was careful, so careful. Duo felt his eyes slip towards shut, lulled by the soothing motions of Heero’s hands.

He came awake instantly, though, when Heero moved -- when he felt Heero’s chest mold along his back. The strong arms went around his waist, and the warm, wonderful hands crept up his chest. He drew in a breath suddenly ragged, and another, and felt his heartbeat stutter and accelerate.

“Heero?” His voice cracked, and he had to swallow. He wrenched his eyes sideways, until he could see out of the corner of his vision Heero’s face as his chin rested on Duo’s shoulder. “What... what are you...”

In response, Heero pulled Duo around in his arms until the other boy faced him -- and kissed him, slowly and sensually, cutting off Duo’s questions. But the question was still there when Heero pulled back, confusion and fear glittering in his eyes.

Heero moved his hands on Duo’s shoulders in gentle, soothing motions. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said at last. “And I might not come back.” He saw Duo’s eyes widen, saw his lips part as though about to protest, and dove in to plant another kiss on his lips.

“Please, love,” he whispered, his breath puffing onto Duo’s lips. “I want to do something for you. I want to give you something, in case I never come back.”

Duo’s hands clenched into fists, and he swallowed convulsively. Heero felt the trembling begin, in his shoulders, and plunged ahead. “I promise I won’t hurt you,” he said, emphasizing his words with another kiss. “I promise.” Another kiss, and he slid his hands up to frame Duo’s face. “You know I’d never hurt you.”

“I know,” Duo murmured, but kept his eyes downcast. “I... I’m not afraid that you’d hurt me...”

“Then will you trust me?” Heero stroked Duo’s face gently, struggling to convey all his concern, all his love in that touch.

Duo closed his eyes, and steeled himself up to it. He had only one choice, he knew; he only had to force his stiff lips open and say it.

“All right,” Duo whispered.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

I want to give this to you.

It terrified him.

There was no way he could misinterpret the meaning of Heero’s words; not with the heat of Heero’s hands weighing on his shoulders. Not with the newborn passion on his face, or the glitter of excitement in his eyes. They terrified him and he couldn’t even say why; this was Heero, Heero, and he...

I’d never hurt you.

Besides; Duo was hardly a stranger to sex. He’d spent -- he shuddered from the thought, but could not avoid it -- two years in captivity, and though he’d been a virgin when he began, after the first time he’d not gone two or three days without one of the men forcing him. And there was nothing they would enjoy more than hitting or cutting or choking him while they raped him.

“I... I’m not afraid...”

But this was Heero; Heero wouldn’t do any of those things to him. Heero wouldn’t beat him, wouldn’t make him bleed, wouldn’t laugh with delight while forcing screams out of his battered frame. He knew that Heero would be careful -- and as long as he was gentle, then surely sex wouldn’t be so bad. Couldn’t be so bad.

Will you trust me?

Heero. The man Duo loved more than his own soul; the man who had given him so much that he’d be repaying him far past the end of his life. How could he sit in Heero’s arms on Heero’s bed and tell him no?

So before the dread could close his throat, he forced his lips apart. “All right,” he whispered.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

I want to give this to you.

It terrified him.

There was no way he could misinterpret the meaning of Heero’s words; not with the heat of Heero’s hands weighing on his shoulders. Not with the newborn passion on his face, or the glitter of excitement in his eyes. They terrified him and he couldn’t even say why; this was Heero, Heero, and he...

I’d never hurt you.

Besides; Duo was hardly a stranger to sex. He’d spent -- he shuddered from the thought, but could not avoid it -- two years in captivity, and though he’d been a virgin when he began, after the first time he’d not gone two or three days without one of the men forcing him. And there was nothing they would enjoy more than hitting or cutting or choking him while they raped him.

“I... I’m not afraid...”

But this was Heero; Heero wouldn’t do any of those things to him. Heero wouldn’t beat him, wouldn’t make him bleed, wouldn’t laugh with delight while forcing screams out of his battered frame. He knew that Heero would be careful -- and as long as he was gentle, then surely sex wouldn’t be so bad. Couldn’t be so bad.

Will you trust me?

Heero. The man Duo loved more than his own soul; the man who had given him so much that he’d be repaying him far past the end of his life. How could he sit in Heero’s arms on Heero’s bed and tell him no?

So before the dread could close his throat, he forced his lips apart. “All right,” he whispered.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

~"Thank you for coming."~

~"Not at all, not at all, General. So where's the piece you wanted to show me?"~



Heero could feel his heart melt, over the trust unspoken in Duo’s acquiescence. No words would fit his feelings; instead he hooked his fingers under Duo’s chin and drew them together for a deep, heated kiss. “I won’t let you down, Duo,” he whispered fiercely, holding Duo’s face upturned to his. “Believe that I won’t betray your trust in me.”

No sound, but he felt the pressure as Duo’s chin dipped slightly in a nod. One hand slid downwards, caressing Duo’s neck before flowing over his shoulder and down his arm until his fingers twined with Duo’s, spreading his fingers wide and rubbing the pad of his thumb over the sensitive skin below the palm.



~"Here. See... Ah, he's awake. What do you think of him?"~

~"My, my... that's a pretty one. You're right, he's quite fine. I may end up owing you a favor, rather than the other way around."~