misanagi

Spiral
By Misanagi

Rating: NC 17
Pairing: 1x4 (4x1)
Summary: On his tenth year high school reunion, Heero Yuy gets the chance to relive the past. Heero's POV
Warnings: AU, School fic. Lemon.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters used in this fic.
Archive: Gundanium Line

Notes: This fic is my entry to the Back-to-School Smutathon challenge organized by Ponderosa and windsor blue, filling Briony's request.

Special thanks to Anne for beta reading this for me.

//Flashbacks//

======

"Heero Yuy"

When I decided to attend my tenth year high school reunion I had hoped I would meet him. I had known that he would be here but that doesn't stop me from tensing when I hear his voice. I stare at my glass of white wine, looking at the liquid as if it's the most interesting thing in the world. His name escapes my lips but I don't turn around.

He stands beside me and all I can see is his right hand. His shirt is white and a simple gold cufflink adorns it. The hands are as pale as I remember and the long manicured fingers seem to belong with the calluses he has from playing the violin. A glass of red wine is in his hand; he lifts it slowly and brings it to his lips. I can't help but follow the motion. His lower lip is slightly thicker than the upper one; he used to like it when I bit it.

"It's been a long time."

Too long. About eight years since the last time I had heard his voice, and even more since I saw him. I raise my eyes and, for a moment, I see his seventeen-year-old self with his dark blue blazer, loosening his tie. I blink. He is now wearing a dark stripped gray suit and a deep blue tie; and I don't know which vision is more mesmerizing.

He smiles at me. "It's good to see you."

I nod slightly and the corners of my mouth twitch. "You too." I look him over from head to toe. "You seem to be doing fine. Are you managing your father's company?"

He smirks and his eyes shine in the same way they did the time we paid a stripper to give the headmaster a lap dance at the school assembly. "I went into business for myself."

I raise an eyebrow. So he got his wish. He is now independent and apparently very successful at it. I feel something click: I still know him. The awkward meeting is over and I'm staring at my best friend and my first lover again. The illusion of age and the lost years are gone, and he is just Quatre.

* * *

"I saw you a year ago," he confesses while he lights up a cigarette. "You were with a blonde girl." He puts the lighter in his pocket and turns his eyes to the stars. "You seemed close."

"Relena," I say. "It didn't work but we are still friends." I know that my voice is neutral but I also know that Quatre can read me better than anyone.

"I'm sorry."

I'm not looking at him; I'm watching the ashes fall to the ground before flying on the soft wind. "Don't be. It takes two people to drift apart."

We stay silent for a while. He finishes his smoke, drops the butt on the grass and steps on it. I'm startled when he grabs my hand, holding it closely between his cold ones, and looks at me. "I should have tried more."

Rationally, I know he is wrong. He's always been one to take responsibility for everything. Blaming himself is Quatre's natural reaction, and this time, I feel tempted to let him. Illogical as it might be, there's a part of me that wants to ask him why he stayed away. It was his job to prevent time and distance from cutting our ties. He failed.

I hear him sigh and I notice that he's staring at the stars again. He is avoiding my eyes, and that isn't something Quatre does. "I met someone in college. He always says that time isn't really a straight line, but a spiral; we are just too insignificant to notice. Time can separate, but at the end it will always bring back together those who were never meant to drift apart." There is something in his voice; something that lets me know that I'm not the only one who has spent life asking 'what if?'

"You sound close."

He looks confused for a moment but he soon understands me. "Trowa," he says. "It didn't work, but we are still friends."

* * *

"I think I had one too many glasses of wine." He is leaning on the corridor wall, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He opens the top button of his shirt.

"You could never hold your liquor."

He glares at me. The same glare he used when I teased him and he couldn't say anything back. He glances at the door of the auditorium where we can still hear the jovial music, signaling that the party is still going on. "I can't go back in there." He grimaces. "My ears are already pounding."

I put my hand on the wall behind him, leaning until our noses are only inches apart. He looks at me with steady eyes and I know that he is trying to read me, like I'm trying to read him.

"Maybe you need to go someplace quiet." I smirk when his pupils wide slightly. He understands the implications of my words, and it takes him less than a second to nod.

I smile.

* * *

"It hasn't changed at all." He walks directly to the history section, hiding behind the tall bookshelves. "This is the place where we made love for the first time."

I remember that night well enough, and he knows I do; he is just stating it to make it real, to build a bridge in time. I decide to play along. "You were drunk then too."

He emerges from behind a shelf. Somehow he seems taller; every muscle of his body is tense. His eyes are hard, but not cold. "I'm not drunk, and I wasn't then either."

Always doubt a person who affirms he is sober. However, there is something about the way he is acting that doesn't let me do more than believe him.

"I would have never slept with you if I wasn't sober enough to comprehend my actions." His eyes soften. "You deserve better."

Leaving me alone with my thoughts, he disappears behind the books again. We were seventeen then. I had thought that he had acted like the hormonal teenager he was, at least that first time. Now, ten years later, I'm standing in the same place, and it's as if I'm seeing what happened for the first time.


// "I want you"

"You drank too much today; tell me again in the morning."

He grabbed my hand and made me look at him. A soft kiss, a sincere look. "I want you."

I kissed him back. //


I walk through the library, following his scent, but yet knowing exactly where he went. I find him leaning against the wall. He is skimming a book; not reading, just using the words as a place to run to where he can wander endlessly, finding his way.

"I'm sorry." I'm not like him; I don't apologize often, but I can admit when I'm wrong.

His eyes leave the yellowish pages of the book and focus on me. "It's in the past." He closes the book with one hand, and puts it back in its place.


// "We need to go, Quatre. They're going to catch us."

His head was resting on top of my chest. He was exhaling through his mouth; the warm breath tickled my skin.

"I know," he said, but didn't move. "It's just... if we go, if we put on our clothes and leave, then it will all be in the past." His head shifted a little and he looked at me. "I don't want that."

I ran my hands slowly through his hair. ""There'll be other times." //


"You can never go back," I say, taking off my suit jacket, "but you can always remember."

Those sincere eyes are on me again. "I never forgot you, Heero. You should know that."

I close the gap between us, kissing him softly on the lips. The first is always remembered, but no matter what, I could have never forgotten Quatre.

He grabs my lower lip between his teeth and takes it to his mouth. His tongue dances over it, tasting it, claiming it. I moan. No one kisses like him.


//My back was pressed against the wall and he was leaning towards me, coming closer and closer. I knew he was going to kiss me. It wasn't my first kiss but it was my first with him. I stayed still, awkward for a moment, not knowing what to do. As soon as his lips were on mine I felt the need to take him, to make him mine. My teeth grasped his lip and I had to resist the urge to bite hard. I tasted him slowly, memorizing every feeling, every twitch. I let go and gasped.

Opening my eyes I saw him. His eyes still tightly shut and his mouth slightly open.//


The wall is the only thing keeping him upright. It was only a kiss but, after so long, it has become a statement that shouts that we still fit together. As I look at him I realize how much I've missed that expression; that look of pure relaxation I used to see so often in his face.

"You kissed me that first time," I say to him. "You took the first step." He blinks and I put my hand behind his neck. "It's my turn to reverse things."

He gives me the slightest nod before I pull him towards me and we share another kiss.

This time it's not tentative, but powerful. I lean into him, he leans against the wall, and our bodies press together. His hands are swift and soon my shirt hangs open. I feel the silk of his shirt against my skin.


// His shirt lay forgotten on the floor. The striped blue tie hung loosely around his neck, slightly covered by a few drops of sweat. He always hated ties; ever since the first time his father forced him to wear one at the age of four.

He moved his hands to his neck but I stopped him. "The tie stays."//


Putting a hand above mine he simply says "No". I leave the tie alone and help him get rid of his. It's not the dark blue uniform one, but we are playing, mixing the past with the present, and some elements need to be different but yet the same.

"I've dreamt of this," he confesses, his fingers moving to my belt. "I always woke up to an empty bed."

"What about Trowa?" I try hard to keep the jealousy out of my voice.

He takes off my belt slowly but his eyes are fixed on mine. "I love him, but he isn't you."

He doesn't need to ask about Relena. I give him a simple understanding smile, and he knows.


// I was bare before him. The space between us was nearly inexistent and the wall behind me prevented me from moving.

He still had his pants; the pants and the tie. "Have you ever…" he looked as nervous as I felt.

"No," I answered. "Have you?"

He shook his head and lowered his eyes, staring at his fidgeting fingers. "I'm not sure what to do."

I was no expert but I had been curious enough to find out as much as I could. "Let's go slow," I said, my hands moving to his trousers. "Trust me."//


I gasp and throw my head back. The mixture of sensations is too much to take. I whisper his name, trying to control my breathing, my pulse, my hands, myself.

Blinking, I notice that a couple of tears managed to escape my eyes, moistening my eyelashes and making my vision even more blurry than it already is.

My head drops forward, my chin resting on my sweaty chest; my hands are still buried on his hair. He has already released me from his mouth and now he is leaning on the wall; my pants lay crumbled below him. "You are as amazing as always," he says, looking up at me. His voice is very soft, as if he fears that any loud sound is going to break the moment.

"Quatre, you are the amazing one."


//"I don't want to hurt you." He was standing farther away from me that he had all night. His arms were hugging his chest and his head was a little bit lowered. I could read the reluctance in his body. "After that, after what you just did for me… I can't. I can't hurt you."

I could still feel his taste on my lips, but most of all, I could still hear the sound of his voice as he cried my name and the incoherent mumbles of his afterglow. "Trust me," I repeated and reached for my backpack, where a small tube that I'd been carrying for more than a week was ready to be used. //


"Did you remember to bring lube?" he asks, pulling me down so I'm kneeling in front of him.

I smirk. "I guess I didn't get the memo."

His eyes shine with malice. He puts his hands behind his head and leans on the wall. "Well, then Mr. Yuy," he says in a lazy tone, "you won't be getting any of this."

I look down at him and close the gap between us until my lips are almost touching his. "Excuse me, Mr. Winner, but I brought the lube that time, and since we are exchanging places, I believe it's only fair that you handle that little detail this time." I can't resist. I bite his lower lip, taking it into my mouth and sucking before releasing it.

"I wasn't aware that we were going to be desecrating the library again." I hold his stare and he gives up. He reaches for his jacket and hands me a tube. "But I had hoped we would."


// I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. He was moving slowly and the tips of his fingers were caressing my check. I forced myself to concentrate on that touch, and the pain soon faded to discomfort.

He stopped moving and waited patiently for me to tell him that it was okay, that he could go on. "I'm fine. You can move."

I felt a small kiss on my forehead and opened my eyes. He was smiling down at me, his eyes were shining. He moved, and after a few moments the discomfort was forgotten, and there was only pleasure." //


His hands always used to be cold, but now they are warm. He is spreading the lube on me, awakening my erection. We are both kneeling, facing each other. I manage to move my right hand and get a hold of the tube. Awkwardly, I put some on my fingers and start teasing his entrance.

He groans; a small sound of frustration that only helps my arousal. I keep teasing.

"Heero!" The way he says my name is a demand as well as a plea.

"Yes, Quatre?"

He groans again. He knows I like to hear him talk. No matter how far gone we are, I like listening to the sound of his voice. And he talks; he always talked because he knew I liked it.

"Come on!" His hands suddenly stop moving but I can still feel them on me. "I'll talk, Heero, just talk back to me."

I let my middle finger penetrate him slowly. He holds his breath and I stay very still until he exhales.

"The first time we did this I was sure we were going to stay together forever." His words are only a whisper. I move my finger and he blinks repeatedly. "We were so young."

My left hand holds the back of his neck. He gasps; it's one of his sensitive spots. "I thought that too," I whisper back, slipping another finger inside him. "Back then, there was no one else."

A wave of pleasure runs through me as his hold on my erection gets firmer. "And now?" he asks.

"Nothing has changed."


// "I..." he diverted his eyes, he was nervous. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

I kissed him deeply, tasting every inch of his mouth until we both needed some air. "Me too," I admitted.

"Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

"Yes, again." //


He is panting, lying below me. His body is covered in sweat and his erection is pressing against my stomach. His eyes are open. While he closes them when he kisses, he doesn't believe in missing anything other than that. He won't allow himself to shut off any of his senses. I like closing my eyes, but there is no way I will choose darkness over the picture of ecstasy that is presented to me. He is looking at me the way I imagine myself looking at him. I wonder what he sees.

I'm panting too. My senses feel like they are going to overload as I go deeper and deeper inside him. He is mumbling something but I don't understand; I can't understand anything right now. I'm moving, fast, faster, and his mumbles, loud, louder.

A drop of my sweat falls on his forehead. He doesn't notice. He is too busy just looking at me, feeling me.

I can't hear but I know the sound is all around me. I want to arch my head back and scream but I don't want to lose sight of him. I'm making sounds but I can't hear them. His eyes loose focus, his mouth opens and he gasps my name. I exhale, we both explode.

"Q- Quatre." And I collapse on top of him.

* * *

The place is empty. We make our way in the darkness, out of the building. It's chilly and we instinctively walk closer together.

"My car is that way." He points in the opposite direction to where I'd parked my bike.

"I'm the other way."

He nods and gives me a polite smile, but his eyes look sad. "I guess this is goodbye." He swallows. "It was good seeing you."

I hug him close enough to feel the erratic beating of his heart. I count thirty beats before I pull away slowly and kiss him. He bites my lower lip.

We turn around and walk. I stop after a few steps and notice him entering a silver car. He turns on the lights but the engine is still off. It's only when I reach my bike that I realize he's waiting.

A spiral. Whatever drifted us apart has the power to bring us back together. I was meant to find someone at this reunion... or maybe he was meant to find me.

I speed off until I find the silver car. I stop in front of it and see his face, and the genuine smile that graces it. He turns the engine on and slowly drives out of the parking lot.

I follow.

This time we'll make our way down the spiral together.


* * *

- The End -

~~~
Find the other fics of the Smutathon here
____

In other news, darthanne and ladyshadowphyre won the drabble thingy. Arcada, what do you want?

Next week will be the last of the semester then I have finals. I'll be busy so forgive me if I'm not really here during that time. The good thing is that the semester is almost over; I can already see the light at the end of the tunnel.