A Soldier's Love
Written by: Pingo
Email: Pingochan@aol.com
A GW/Yaoi/Shonen-ai Fanfic
Rated PG-13 for language, lime and boy/boy love. No Lemon, you hentais!
Sorry...
Author's note: The title could actually apply to any of the pilots, but
Part 1 is only about Trowa and Quatre's relationship. There will be many,
many more pairings later, all yaoi, but don't expect any lemon scenes,
because I won't right them.
I'm not sure exactly where this is going, but I do think it will get dark
for awhile, but don't worry, everything *should* turn out for the
better... ^_^! It *should*, but I'm not making any promises, so don't
flame me or anything... and if you have too, could you please put 'This is a
flame' as the subject? Thanks!
Chapter 1:
Quatre walked on silent, bare feet down the hall to the library. He
felt strange, being so quiet and cautious, when this was his house... but with Trowa that was
necessary. Quatre knew the other pilot needed his space, needed the quiet. He went to the doorway
of the library and just stood there, watching the older boy stare off blankly. As he watched
Trowa's blank gaze seemed to turn angry. His green eyes began to blaze with silent fury, but he
remained there, staring at the wall.
"Trowa?" Quatre asked slowly, softly. He stepped away from the door.
"Is everything okay?" Quatre hated when Trowa got in to these moods, which was pretty
often nowadays. Quatre always felt like it was something that he had done, and he knew it
probably was. Trowa always denied it, but something in his eyes told Quatre it was all lies.
It seemed every touch, every kiss set it off, this silent anger.
"I'm fine, Quatre," Trowa replied, his voice rough. "Go back to the
living room with the others."
Quatre pulled up an armchair beside Trowa's and sat down. "I'd
rather be with you."
"Look, I don't want to talk about it," he said, an edge of sharpness
in his voice.
"We don't have to talk, I just want to sit here, and be with you. Is
that all right?" the blue eyed boy asked.
"I'd rather be alone right now," Trowa told him, avoiding Quatre's
eyes.
"Well, alright," Quatre replied, standing. He tried to keep the
tears out of his voice. "I guess I'll go on up to bed, then."
Quatre was able to get as far as the back staircase, before he broke
down in tears. He didn't understand what was going on. Why was Trowa acting like this?
He could hear Heero, Wufei and Duo laughing in the living room, and
fought to keep his sobs as silent as possible. He didn't want to bother the others with his
problems. Hell, he wasn't even sure there was a problem to begin with... it was just this feeling he
had. His relationship with Trowa had been going down hill for months now, and every morning he
expected to wake up and find Trowa gone. He even had nightmares about Trowa leaving him.
~*~*~
As he sat in the library, Trowa began to feel guilty. He knew he
should tell Quatre how he felt, tell him what was going on. He owed that much. But, somehow, he
couldn't bring himself to break it to the younger boy. It wasn't working out. It never
would. Half of him hoped Quatre would break up with him first. But, then, he knew that would never
happen. It was written all over the Arabian pilot's face. His eyes were pleading, 'Don't
Leave Me! Tell Me Everything's Okay!" So Trowa stayed, and said everything was okay, but he
couldn't take Quatre's constant prying, couldn't stand the way he had to know his every
thought.
Every time Trowa got ready to tell him, he broke down, and lost his
resolve. He had to handle it just right. He couldn't do it at a time when he was worked up
and angry, or he would just explode. It had to be done carefully. It would hurt Quatre enough as
it was.
He stood up, and sighed turning to leave the Library. It was getting
late and Quatre would be wondering where he was. As he left the library, he didn't hear
anyone in the living room, so he figured the others had already gone up to bed. He used the
back stair case because it was closest and brought him right up to the room that he and Quatre were
sharing. As he reached the top of the steps, he could hear the rustling of sheets and Quatre's
voice crying out. Another nightmare.
"Please let this be the last one tonight,' Trowa thought to himself
silently. Quatre was always having nightmares about Trowa leaving him, and would wake Trowa up
in the middle of the night, clutching him tightly, screaming, 'Don't go! Don't go!' Was
putting it off only hurting Quatre more than necessary? He opened the door, and slipped in silently,
then got ready for bed in the dark. Quatre calmed down after a while and then Trowa slipped
beneath the covers.
"Trowa?" Quatre murmered sleepily.
"It's me," he replied, softly. "Go back to sleep."
"Hold me," Quatre whispered, tucking his body into Trowa's side.
Trowa wrapped his arms around the younger boy and held him until he was once again asleep.
Tomorrow, Trowa decided. Tomorrow's the day.
~*~*~
The next morning dawned bright and early. Quatre yawned as his eyes
slid open. He turned in the bed so he could see Trowa, and was relieved to find his lover
in a deep sleep. Laying there with his eyes closed, Trowa looked so peaceful, so young and
innocent. Not at all like a boy who had lost his identity, who had fought in war and killed so
many others.
Quatre smiled softly to himself, savoring the moment. He knew it
wouldn't last. Trowa would awake soon, and then the tension would begin again. It was just a
matter of time. Always, it would start over.
Quatre knew the end was coming. There was no doubt in his mind.
Several times Trowa had sat him down to break it off. It was in the tone
of his voice, the way he fidgeted around... the way he looked in to
Quatre's eyes. And Quatre, being the person he was, could never keep the
sadness and pain from his eyes. So, Trowa stayed. 'Next time,' Quatre
told himself, 'Let him go.' He had to love Trowa enough to set him free.
~*~*~
Before Trowa opened his eyes, he could feel Quatre's eyes on him.
That's how intense the boy's gaze was. Trowa opened his eyes, and gave
Quatre a weak smile before sitting up.
"Good morning Tro-chan. How did you sleep?" Quatre greeted him.
Trowa was surprised at the tone in the younger boy's voice. It was cooler,
not pleading and clinging as usual. Trowa looked in to the younger boy's
eyes, and found the same to be true with them. maybe he had given up.
"Quatre, we need to talk," he said gently. "You know I love you
right?" Trowa asked, beating around the bush a little. Quatre nodded.
"It's impossible not to love you, I always will, but... I'm not *in* love
with you anymore." Trowa looked away from Quatre towards the door. "I
don't want to lose our friendship, because you're still very special to--"
"You don't have to say anymore Trowa, I understand." Quatre cut him
off. He slid out of the bed and began to get dressed.
"No, Quatre let me explain. Last night I was thinking and things
aren't--"
"Aren't the same? Aren't what they were? Trowa, this didn't start
just last night! It's been going on for months. I see it in your eyes
everytime you look at me!"
"I just didn't want to hurt you. You're so fragile--"
"Fragile? Excuse me, but have we or have we not been out there
fighting side by side? I'm a Gundam Pilot, no better or worse than you!
Why couldn't you just tell me? If I had been anyone else you wouldn't have
had a problem."
"I didn't mean anything by it, Quatre. I just didn't want to hurt
you anymore than necessary."
"You could've just told me, " Quatre insisted, pullling a pink oxford
shirt from the closet and slipping it on. "You didn't have to keep putting
it off like that."
"Quatre, what do you expect me to do? Everytime I sat you down to
tell you, you looked at me with, with those eyes, begging and pleading for
me not to do it."
"Trowa," Quatre cut him off as he tucked his shirt into his khaki
pants. "Just because I didn't want you to leave, doesn't mean you had to
stick around. I can handle it. I'm a lot stronger of a person than you
think!" With those final words Quatre turned and left the room, leaving
Trowa stunned.
~*~*~
'You only did what you had to,' Quatre told himself as he went
downstairs. 'You only did what you had to to make him happy.' As he was
passing the dining room he spotted Heero alone at the table with a cup of
coffee. 'I could really use a cup of tea.' He went to the kitchen and had
the cook prepare him a cup, then he joined Heero in the dining room.
"Good morning," the Arabian said, sitting down across the table from
the Japanese boy.
"Morning," Heero replied, sipping his coffee. When Trowa entered the
room, Quatre didn't even lift his eyes from the mug.
"Quatre..." Trowa called from the doorway, "can't we talk about
this?"
"Trowa, it's over, let's just leave it at that." Quatre fought to
keep his voice hard and emotionless.
There was a moment of silence, and then Quatre looked up in time to
see Trowa turn and leave the room. He watched as Heero looked at the
retreating pilot, and then turned his gaze on Quatre, before going back to
his coffee. That's what Quatre liked about Heero, he didn't ask questions,
didn't have any expectations.... well of anyone but himself. Quatre could
just sit there and be himself... he didn't have to put on an act.
A large part of being a Gundam Pilot was acting... acting like you
were used to the killing, acting like you didn't fear death, didn't fear
dieing or losing your best friends... Yeah, Quatre knew all about acting,
but he wasn't very good at it. That part of him that hated it all always
seemed to show itself, even while another part was amazed and awed by the
war, drunk with the power the Gundams gave them.
Heero on the other hand, was an expert. He was so unemotional, you
would think he was a robot. But, Quatre knew beneath his cold exterior,
emotions raged. Quatre could see it in the silent fury in Heero's eyes
when he saw people attack the innocent.
Quatre took a long sip of his hot tea. "Have any of the others come
down yet?"
"Wufei's out in the garden. Duo won't be up before noon, probably."
With those words, he went back to his coffee. Quatre nodded, leaning back
in his chair, and taking another sip of tea.
~*~*~
Trowa sighed as he made his way back up the staircase and in to the
bed room. Quatre was taking this better than he had expected... but Trowa
knew it was just an act. Quatre could try to hide his feelings, but Trowa
could see right through it. It was strange. Trowa had been waiting for
this, but now that it was over, he couldn't help but feel sad... like he
had lost something precious.
'I have to leave this place,' Trowa thought, as he quietly moved to
the closet to pack his things. Everything in the room had Quatre written
all over it. His scent lingered on the sheets, and hung in the air. His
clothes were neatly layed across the desk chair from where he had undressed
the night before. Pictures of he and Trowa together hung on the walls and
covered every spare surface.
As Trowa pulled his suitcase from the closet, he found himself wiping
a tear from his eye. There was no doubt in his mind that he would miss
the small Arabian. 'He was the one who taught me to love,' he thought, as
he took his garments from the closet and drawers and packed them. 'He was
the one who taught me there was life after war, that there was more to my
existence then being a soldier.'
After he finished packing his clothes, he took a framed photo of him
and Quatre shortly after the end of the war. Trowa was standing on a high
cliff, and Quatre was sitting on his back, his arms wrapped tightly about
Trowa's neck, with his head thrown back in joyous laughter. If Trowa
listened carefully, he could still hear that laugh, echoing in his heart.
He placed the picture in the suitcase and zipped it shut. Then, he lifted
the suitcase and turned to leave, never to return.
Chapter 2