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"Collide"Written By: Vega-Lume Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. This series
and all characters original to it are licensed by Sunrise and Madman
Entertainment. I claim no ownership, nor do I profit in any way from
this fan work Rating: R Warnings: Alternate Timeline possible parallel
universe? Angst trigger warning Death, Blood, Suicide Attempt, sap,
Romance, Eventual Smut, Humor Pairings: 13x1 Summary: The ficlets take place on an alternate timeline that parallels some of the most important events of the series, beginning shortly after Heero is first sent to Earth. They focus on the relationship between Treize and Heero. The ficlets may appear disjointed (which is why they're not part of the main story) Warnings: a little smutty Takes place a week or so after Collide - The Second Ficlet.
"Collide - The Third Ficlet" He was having a shit day. That was the only way he could describe it. Anne Une was brilliant, exceptionally capable, and he was quite fond of the woman. However she was becoming increasingly unstable. A liability he certainly could do without, but he needed her and his hands were currently tied where she was concerned. Closing the door with a sigh he tugged at tightness
of the neckline against his throat and pulled the cravat free, not
caring where it fell as he dropped it, along with his cape, leaving
them in his wake. Intent on having a bath and a stiff drink, he stalked
down the hall. Rounding the corner near the library he paused when
he heard music coming through the closed door. There was no radio
or vid in that room, just a baby grand piano that hadn’t been
played in who knew how long. Cracking the door a smile spread across his face. Heero sat perched on the bench, with a look of concentration on his face as his fingers moved slowly and deliberately over the keys. He was obviously rusty for his moments were stiff and lacked the grace that otherwise seemed to come to him so naturally. “I can’t place the name of that particular piece,” Treize said softly as if Heero would stop if he were to speak too loudly. “Sonata Pathétique,” Heero replied and Treize’s mind automatically translated it to Piano sonata No. 8 in C minor, OP 13 by Beethoven. “You play beautifully,” he commented as he poured amber liquid from a crystal decanter into a tumbler. Though he favored red wine the bourbon was more to his taste that particular evening. Knowing Heero would not accept an alcoholic drink he poured ice and water in a second glass and carried both over to the piano. “I haven’t played in years,” Heero said his eyes following Treize as he approached. Scooting to the side, he made room for the other man to join him on the bench. “My handlers didn’t think my continuing to play was useful in my training.” He finished the piece then accepted the glass of water, taking a swallow as Treize watched him intently. “What?” He asked curiously, lowering the glass. “I would very much like to kiss you,” the
taller man confessed and received a tiny not-smile in return. Setting the tumbler on the piano he reached out tentatively, cupping Heero’s cheek in his hand, when he didn’t pull away Treize leaned forward and saw Heero’s eyes slide closed just before their lips met. His mouth was cool from the water as it opened to him and he deepened the kiss. They pulled apart when air became a vital necessity. Heero left hand was on Treize’s bicep and his right arm thrown around the back of his neck, where the water glass had gone neither knew or really cared. Somehow both of Treize’s hands had found Heero’s waist and were clutching him an almost painful grip. “What is happening to us,” he panted. “I don’t know,” Heero replied honestly. “But whatever it is I want it to keep happening.” Treize kissed him again, pulling him up from the bench.
He stumbled backward until his legs hit the sofa. He fell on his back,
Heero following his decent still joined at the lips. Hands wandered
as they moved against each other and all too soon they lay gasping
and spent, both still fully dressed. His eyes were heavy and he quickly lost the battle, sinking deeper into the sofa as sleep claimed him, Heero still pressed against his side. He awoke later finding himself alone, he sat up temporarily ignoring the uncomfortable state of his trousers in favor of finishing the drink he had left on the piano. To his delight there was an origami object next to his
drink. Picking it up he turned the folded item in his hand and found
it had been made from plain white paper, probably from right here
in his library. Its creation had been complex but the look was clean
and simple, both distinctive and indescribable*. Smiling he carried the item to his bedroom, the drink once again forgotten. ~ * ~ * the Lover's Knot. A complicated origami piece.
Ficlet 5 |
