Pressure of a Blade

Before this assignment, Trowa had spent the majority of his experience in the Wing pilot’s presence in silence, so he expected his trip to earth to be spent in much the same manner. And it had…mostly.

But Heero had proven much more talkative than on previous occasions. Not that Heero had risen to “normal” people’s standards, but Trowa was glad of that; he enjoyed their shared silence.

There was so much communicated with a shared look between them that few others would understand or even notice.

Trowa supposed Heero became more talkative when he expected to die… which was rather chilling if you felt some attachment to him.

Despite previous experiences, the road trip wasn’t as quiet as Trowa expected it to be. Silence reigned for about an hour before the sound of wind wrapping around the truck’s forward progress was interrupted by Heero’s voice.

“Trowa.”

“Hn.” The acrobat acknowledged the statement without taking his eyes off the road. He could feel blue eyes scanning him, but chose to ignore them.

“If something happens, will you regret?” He kept his statement brief, probably to cover his discomfort over the proposed question.

But it was too brief because Trowa didn’t know what he was asking. “Regret is useless; it changes nothing and encourages living in the past.”

Heero swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, but I need to know. Would you?”

“Regret what?” He wasn’t sure whether Heero was asking about his confession or the kisses they had shared; maybe he was asking if Trowa regretted coming to earth at all.

“This morning.”

Ah. Would Trowa forget putting a stop to the physicality this morning. Would he regret not letting the exchange escalate into a full joining of bodies.

“There’s no way to know for certain.” Out of the corner of his eye, Trowa watched an almost imperceptible slump of the other’s shoulder. This answer obviously meant a lot to Heero, and Trowa’s response was not satisfactory. He sought to remedy that, but he refused to comfort his passenger with words he was unsure of.

“There are too many parameters to simply say, ‘yes or no.’ Physically, I have wanted you from the moment I tended your wounds.” That confession seemed to help Heero’s disposition. “But if we had given into that desire, and something happened to you, would I hate myself for being distracted, blame myself for your fate? I know I would. Not consummating that act means my focus is still somewhat in place. You do distract me, but not nearly so much. If something happens to you without that joining having taken place…”


“You can’t blame yourself for it.” Heero interrupted.

“Oh, I can, but I know that I’m still focused on the task, not on tangled limbs or the taste of your skin. I know that I there is little more I can do than I am capable of now.”

“I see.”

The drive continued on in silence for hours, both pilots enjoying the presence of the other. Around mid-afternoon, they were forced to stop so they could fill up the tank, use the restroom, and grab something other than rations to eat. Then they were back on the road with a driver switch.

But the long trip had allowed select thoughts to fester in the confines of Trowa’s mind.

It finally got the better of him around sunset. He looked over to see Heero concentrating on the road before them.

“When you said, ‘we are the same,’ what did you mean?” His voice was soft in the quiet cabin of the truck.

He saw Heero’s brow furrow. “If you have to ask, I was mistaken.”

Trowa felt something clinch within him, but kept his façade firmly about him. “Possibly, but maybe not.”

The driver shifted. “What do you think I meant?”

Suppressing a grunt of irritation at the circular pattern this conversation had taken, Trowa decided to tell it like he saw it. “At the time I thought you meant that we were soldiers, both wholly dedicated to completing the assigned task no matter the parameters. But after reviewing the situation and what was said, that no longer fits.”

Some of the tension eased from Heero’s face as he heard Trowa’s response. “Why not?”

“A soldier puts his mission above all else, but that’s not what I was doing at the time.” He was ashamed of the statement, but it was truth, and both pilots knew it.

“What were you doing?”

Trowa nearly growled with the realization that Heero was leading him to the answer rather than just revealing it. “I lent voice to my anger.”

Heero nodded. “You felt hurt and betrayal, as well as anger.” Green eyes shot him an unfriendly look, but he continued regardless. “You hide it well, but I caught glimpses of it during your rant.”

Grudgingly, Trowa nodded, acknowledging the truth of the statement. “You said you kissed me based on the observation that we were the same and you had no control of the timing. Why then? I was at the end of my control, putting myself above the requirements of the mission. My assumption of what you meant must have been wrong.”

“Not wrong, just incomplete.” Heero glanced at his passenger then quickly turned his eyes back to the road. “We should stop soon; we are getting low on gas.”

“That’s fine.” Trowa let the attempt to change the subject glance off him and pursued the original line of conversation. “Incomplete how?”

Heero was fighting emotions skirting about his face, a mixture of discomfort and satisfaction. “We are alike in our dedication to follow orders to the letter, but it was more than that. We are alike in other areas as well. I wasn’t sure until that moment.”

Trowa’s lack of patience finally colored his words. “Do you intend to tell me or make circles with your words?”

Heero actually had the nerve to laugh, a quiet little chuckle in the face of Trowa’s impatient demand. Irritated, Trowa turned away from him, preferring to look out the window.

“Forgive me, it just feels good to know my earlier observation stands true.”

The passenger gave no implication that he heard the comment, but he did hear Yuy’s exhaled sigh.

“All my training taught me to school my emotions. I was never told to rid myself of them. The opposite, really, emotions are hard to predict, and being unpredictable is a great advantage in war. But in order to use that asset to your advantage, your enemies cannot know what it is that you feel, or they can predict your reactions.”

“I know all of this. That’s why you told me to follow my emotions.” Trowa still had his head turned away from Heero, so he didn’t see the driver nod in affirmation.

“In the process of schooling my emotions, of making them invisible to others, I began to notice them less and less. It was like, the emotionless mask began to seep inward, and everything became muted, dull. I still felt things, but on a much lesser scale. I felt disconnected, like everything was grey. I thought I saw a similarity in that regard with you.”

Trowa was still refusing to look towards the driver’s side, but he caught a flash of blue in his peripheral vision and realized Heero had moved the side mirror until he could see Trowa’s face. Unwittingly, the Heavyarms pilot looked right into Heero’s eyes thanks to the mirror. He nodded, letting the assassin know his assumption was right, then turned back to the passing scenery.

The blue in the looking glass disappeared as Heero turned back to the road. “Everything in my life was grey, but I knew who I was and what role I had to play. Then I woke from the dead, and found another just like me: few words, no emotion visible, unwilling to deviate from orders. I assumed my life hadn’t changed at all, but then you laughed. More specifically, I made you laugh, and some color tinted my vision.”*

Trowa couldn’t help it, his head turned, his eyes drawn to the words spoken.

Heero continued. “I didn’t acknowledge it. Ignored it to the best of my ability, but whenever you were around, my emotions were not dulled. I felt joy, jealousy, anger, frustration, lust, laughter. Good or bad, those emotions were alive and present and there was no denying them. When you gave into your anger, I knew we were the same.”

Stunned was an understatement. Who knew Heero could talk for so long? And what he said were personal, intimate details. He was showing Trowa a lot of trust by stripping himself bare in such a way. But how do you respond to that? So he said nothing.

It seemed to be an occasion where Heero couldn’t stand the silence because, after only a minute, he asked. “Aren’t we?”

“Yes.”

All the tension fell away from him with Trowa’s confirmation. “Everything is sharper, brighter when I’m with you. This morning was just a kiss, and…”

He let the statement hang, but both knew what the other was thinking.

“I know.” Trowa allowed the feeling he had during their encounter that morning wash over him. It would be overwhelming to someone who always experienced their emotions, but to someone not used to such feelings, it was like standing too close to an explosion and feeling the shockwave rock your existence.

It brought an end to the conversation, and within a few moments, Heero was pulling off the highway to refill the gas tank while Trowa went inside to grab dinner for the two of them.

The Wing pilot had situated his base of operations about a day’s drive from Sanc, knowing it would be an important stop for the enemy. The two drove straight through the night to arrive early enough to scout for a covered area not likely to receive damage from any possible resistance.

There was a little mountain village just behind Sanc; Heero knew of it from his stay as Relena’s head of security in the past. There were mountain passes to get to and from the town. The two hid the truck off the base of the mountain; not close enough to get killed by rubble if a round hits the mountain, but close enough to let the peak provide some shelter from sight, shots, and any radar seeking them.

Their position as secure as they can make it, they settled in for some sleep before the coming battle. Well, almost.

They were unreachable while enroute, so when they set up camp, which consisted of activating the stealth mechanisms and cracking the sliding door of the truck for ventilation, there was a vid message waiting for them.

“Maxwell and Chang will know my previous intentions by now.” Heero said as he watched the blinking light signaling his message.

Trowa smirked, nodding.

The fearless Wing pilot reached out like the light was a snake, and instantly the screen was filled with angry, blue violet eyes. “Yuy! What the hell?!? I thought you were past the suicidal stage! Don’t you dare! You hear me? You wait, we’re coming, and if you’re dead when we get there, I swear I’ll make you regret it in hell! And you!” His eyes swiveled to where he assumed Trowa would be standing; he was right. “Barton, you’re supposed to be the level-headed one! How the hell did he convince you to let him do this?!? You are both stupid fucks, who better damn well still be alive when I get there!”

He stormed off as Chang’s face filled the screen. “Your resolve is admirable, but you are foolish to believe you have to do this on your own. We’ll be there in 38 hours.” The screen went blank, and 01 cursed.

His fingers flew over the link system to connect to Wufei’s personal communicator.

The link connected, which neither of the boys expected, and Chang’s voice echoed before they said anything. “You’re not going to convince us otherwise, so don’t try.”

Yuy spoke into the Preventer communication device he had buried within his duffle and ignored throughout the week. “The plan has changed. Barton and I are orchestrating the battle, not participating in it, but your presence here may endanger the entire plan.”

Silence echoed for a moment before he responded. “What do you need us to do? Because we are going to be a part of this.”

“I am sending you coordinates and contact information of resistance fighters that will be needed in a counterstrike if our plan fails, but they may not be needed. Do not attempt to land on earth, you may draw attention to yourselves and get caught in the cross fire unarmed. Trust us.” Heero’s voice was clear and cool, and very hard to oppose.

What else could he say? “Mission accepted, but I’m not happy about it.” Maxwell’s voice was heard in the background, but what he said was unintelligible, and then the line was dead.

Heero breathed a sigh of relief as the confrontation ended and turned to see his companion smirking at him. “Maxwell is going to castrate you when he arrives.”

The Wing pilot returned the expression. “He can try.”

Shaking his head slowly, Trowa faked a thoughtful look. “I don’t know; he’s pretty good with a blade.”

Heat filled Heero’s eyes as they ran up and down the acrobat’s muscled frame. “And I have more interest in the use of that particular area than I have in quite some time. He’ll have a fight on his hands.”

Trowa let his lips curl as he shifted his weight onto his right leg. The left leg took a step to the side, letting the knee bend and his heel swing inward showing off his long legs. His hips were brought into sharp relief and the curve of his ass was emphasized with another slight shift of his weight as he dropped his right shoulder which put a curve in his back and accentuated his chest. He tilted his head back causing the light to catch on the stretched lines of his neck then dropped his head, hiding all of his face but his lips, still curled in that seductive smile.

Finally, Trowa opened his eyes, emerald green shining through his chestnut bangs like a beacon. His smile curled more when he saw Heero’s mouth part just enough for his tongue to moisten dry lips.

The performer was a master at infiltration, he knew when a situation called for him to blend in and exactly when and how he needed to draw attention. But this was just fun. Moving his body just enough to highlight his physique, drawing Heero’s eyes up his body from foot to head gave him a sense of power and awe that he could affect the Wing pilot in such a way with such a small effort.

“If that is so, then he’ll have to get through the two of us.” Trowa’s stance went back to his normal straight-laced posture, but his eyes shone with amusement. “We should get some sleep; we will need it in a few hours.”

Heero shifted where he stood, schooled his expression, and nodded, but he couldn’t quite let what he saw go. “You wish to keep your focus pure, but you are wreaking hell on mine.”

Trowa’s eyes widened and a flash of panic crossed his mind; before he could think of a response, Heero continued.

Closing the few steps that separated them, Heero invaded the other’s personal boundaries, lifted his hand to his cheek, and spoke softly. “Relax. You’re reminding me what I have to live for.”

The acrobat’s tension left him as Heero pressed their lips together. It was chaste, no demand or urgency.

When they separated, blue eyes were so strong in his vision; they seemed so soft, mimicking Heero’s voice. “We will get through this.” It was like saying it would make it that much more likely.

Trowa stepped back and closed his eyes as he wrapped his composure around himself. His face and eyes were hard as he nodded.

Heero’s face matched his own as they set up security monitors, and tapped into satellite feeds waiting for the approaching invaders. According to calculations, they should have about five hours before they would need to begin the traveling route of the truck into Sanc and seven before they needed to mobilize the Boxes.

The Wing pilot had mapped out the route while Trowa drove because he was more familiar with the area. He knew the traffic patterns, and where a moving truck would be out of place. The route was convoluted enough to confuse random signal tracers, but steady enough not to draw attention of other commuters.

They had also come up with several locations with enough electronic interference that, should it become necessary to stop the truck, they would be ok for brief periods.

But for now, it was time to let the body rest in exchange for the sleepless night passenger and driver had. Both pilots rolled out their bed rolls alongside of the cockpit in the cargo hold of the truck and settled in for a brief respite from consciousness, but Trowa was having problems releasing himself into the void.

He had let the soldier in him take over to accomplish the tasks needed to prepare for invasion, but now that he relaxed that hold over his control to settle in for sleep, he could feel the other pilot across from him. In the back of that truck, it was stuffy, hot air cloying at his throat, but he had slept in worse climates. No, it was Heero, so close he could catch his scent, feel his heat, and it raised Trowa’s body heat as well.

His traitorous mind had tortured him with fantasies of Heero for a long while, but now that he had some reality to base his imagination on…Trowa was not looking forward to the dreams waiting for him.

But he had to be on top of his game. The earth was at risk, and their lives could be in danger, so it was time to sleep. Trowa consciously contracted and relaxed every muscle from foot to neck, forcing the tension from his body, and when that didn’t work, he mentally rehearsed his new high wire routine. Over and over, he visualized himself completing the sequence until sleep captured him.
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Well here's the last full chapter that I've had written, but I have the time to write more that I haven't previously had. I still intend to work on this story; I hate leaving things unfinished, but it might be slower updates than previously, maybe but maybe not. I'll try to keep my updating once a week gig going, but right now, I'm not even sure there are people following this fic, so we'll see. Until next time.