Poetry in Motion by Lily

Title: Poetry in Motion
Author: Lily
Archive: yes, please, also on my site
Pairing: 1x2
Categories: songfic, yaoi, lemon, deathfic
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: lemon, death of Quatre
Spoilers: none
Notes: *italics* [lyrics] Heero's POV - fourth of a trilogy
Disclaimer: I don't own them, and yes, I know trilogy means three. Unfortunately it was meant to be only three fics but it has since grown. I don't own the lyrics to "Poetry in Motion" by Johnny Tillotson. Also, the lyrics have been changed slightly to fit.
Feedback: craved! send to: ann_marie_martino@ emerson.edu

Poetry in Motion


"Heero! You didn't have to kill him!"

"Baka. He would never have given up. He thought that was love. I'll show you love, once we get that body off of 'Fei, who, I believe, is shouting about injustice."

"Well, it's a bit muffled, but I think you're right..."

"Baka." And with a kiss, the rest is silence.

~end Prologue~

[When I see my baby
What do I see?]

I don't know what I did to win the love of one so beautiful as you. I've never seen such beauty. You know, I'm sick of those poetic descriptions of how a person looks - those silly comparisons to flowers and whatnot. But you, I shall endeavor to describe what I see when I look at you.

Poetry in motion...]

Your brown hair is about three feet long and tied behind your back in a braid. Your eyes are this weird, bluish-purple shade that defies any known color I can think of. Your mouth - it's open too much. The only time I want your mouth open is when I'm kissing you. Duo, you talk too much. But despite that, your lips curve up even when you're not smiling, so I guess you're just lucky. But when I stop what I'm doing and just look at you, here's what I see...

[Poetry in motion
Walkin' by my side
His lovely locomotion
Keeps my eyes open wide]

You ran down those steps, braid flying and hips swinging, and threw yourself into my arms, and I almost tumbled both of us. You wrapped your legs around my waist, closed those weird-colored eyes, and enthusiastically clasped your lips to mine, parting your mouth and thrusting your tongue indecently. Wufei was still muttering about injustice, gazing sadly at the bloody broken body of Quatre, who, despite being a fallen comrade and fellow pilot, was so twisted that I couldn't see any other solution. So I shot to kill, because, as you should know by now, I'm a crack shot and had I meant only to injure he'd be writhing on the ground in pain. Wufei touched a finger to his face, then knelt and put that finger to Quatre's forehead. He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Quatre's cold mouth. I'd guess he's still somewhat in love despite what Kat almost did to him.

[Poetry in motion
See his gentle sway
A wave out on the ocean
Could never move that way]

You finally let go and I dropped you back onto your feet, and you grinned. Those beautiful lips that I swear I could stare at for hours, and then you whirled around, full of energy as always, and dashed to Wufei's side. I know you thought he needed something, maybe comforting, cause I know how you think. But 'Fei put up a hand that stopped you in your tracks, because he didn't want anything from anyone then. You hopped a little from foot to foot, grasped your ankle, scratched an itch or a bite or something, then wavered a little uncertainly on your feet. Because I love you - and I do, even if I never speak a word - I was at your side in just a matter of moments to steady you. Looking down into your purple eyes, I could see the pain that had taken up residence there. We all cared for Quatre, Duo my love, but this was the best solution.

[I love every movement
There's nothing I would change
He doesn't need improvement
He's much too nice to rearrange]

Quatre was too ill to be rehabilitated. Unfortunately, being raised as a soldier, I know only too well the consequences of liability and pity. You would have shot him in the arm, leg maybe, because you loved him. And he would have betrayed you, would have recuperated, and then returned to his childish, vicious games that hurt people in ways he wasn't capable of understanding. We lost two of our Gundam pilots this week, Trowa and Quatre, but it had to be done. I put him down the same way I would have a lame colt. He could not have recovered, my love. But looking in those purple eyes, your braid scratching at and tickling my arm, I questioned my motives in the way that only you can make me do. So lovely, with all of your obnoxious mannerisms, until I wonder where I'm going. Blinded by the mere strength of your personality. People say you're annoying, because you're loud or because you speak up for yourself. Loud, yes, annoying, no - just cause you're more vocal than the sheep that mill around you doesn't mean you're irritating. Damn, I hate people. There are so few I can tolerate - you being first and foremost, then Wufei. Trowa when he was alive. Quatre I could never stand to be around, I sensed the depravity in him even then.

[Poetry in motion
Dancing close to me
A flower of devotion
A-swaying gracefully]

Your eyes were begging me for something, and since I wasn't sure what, I scooped you up into my arms and plundered your mouth again. I bit your lip, gently, unlike Quatre, who would have held on till you bled - he equated pain with love. I'll show you love, Duo. This time, it will be only us. I feel bad for Wufei, left alone on his knees on the pavement, staring longingly at someone who would have hurt him for the mere pleasure of it. We left him there, in the hanging twilight, and I carried you home to our apartment - it's not far because we made the strategic decision that being close was important should a mission call on us all at the same time. Of course, I had an ulterior motive, I wanted to keep an eye on Quatre. I'm glad I did. I just wish we could have helped Trowa before he took his own life. I knew Trowa had some - interesting - tendencies, but I also knew he'd never hurt anyone, except Quatre. He knew Quatre better than all of us. Did I ever tell you, Duo, about how the mercenaries punished him? How he suffered? At least he died happy, which is more than anyone can say for his life.

A-whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa
A-whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa
A-whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa

Hours later we're in bed together, and your head's thrown back, little sighs escaped your throat as I pleasured you with my mouth. When I ran my tongue over this part of your erection, you screamed, but when I blew on you, my hot breath cooling the saliva on your arousal, you moaned, a low sound that felt ripped out of you all the way from your toes. You clutched my hair and clenched your legs together. I licked pre-cum off the head of your erection, then climbed up your beautiful, naked copper body, and ran my tongue over your upper lip, then your lower, and then groaned,

"Lick your lips, lover."

You obliged me - this is one of the few things in which you actually listen to me - and I nearly came just watching. You savored the taste of yourself on your tongue, then pulled my head down for a deep kiss. We shared that taste of you, somewhat salty, a little bit like coconuts. Your skin smelled like pine trees and your hair smelled like fresh rainwater. I moved back down and continued lavishing attention on your hardened arousal, and you came so hard that your eyes closed tightly and tears squeezed out of them. When I saw your eyes again, they were like rainbows, the violet mixed with something murkier, and I whispered,

"Ai shiteru, Duo," as we fell asleep.

[Poetry in motion
All that I adore
No number-nine love potion
Could make me love him more]



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