Disclaimer: *sigh* *in a bored monotone* Not mine, don't sue. Totally broke after my manga-buying binge.

Title: Bound
Pairings: 4x2, 1+2 (implied)
Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, mild angst, mild sap. Mild Heero bastardization (_very_ mild). OOC-by definition. It's yaoi. But hopefully not too. Whimsy is museless, so if this is crap she has no one to blame but herself.
Author: Whimsy

Notes: I don't write lemons. I only wrote this because there was an idea I wanted to play with, but it had to be done in the context of a lemon. I'm still not happy with the lemony bit, but it's important to the story, so I can't take it out. I mean, the lemony part was the whole reason I wrote any of this, and not in a PWP sense. I hope this becomes clearer once you've read the fic.


Duo hadn't said a word all day.

Quatre found that… unnerving. The two had met only briefly before, and then not under the best of circumstances, but the longhaired pilot had chattered incessantly, even in the midst of battle. His present silence was so unlike him, Quatre decided, that something must be done.

The question now was, what?

When they first arrived at Quatre's current safe house Duo had been more or less his usual self. He was, understandably, worried about Heero, as was Quatre, but Trowa had called and assured them that, miraculously, Heero had survived his attempted self-detonation. And even more miraculously, his injuries, though severe, would most likely heal completely. They had been ordered to maintain radio silence and hadn't heard an update on Heero's condition in a couple weeks, but at their last communication Heero had been unconscious but healing nicely.

However, despite all the good news regarding Heero, Duo continued to grow more and more morose. Quatre had tried, a few times, to get Duo to talk to him, but the braided boy neatly sidestepped all his gentle inquiries, going off on tangents about his latest manga or the new song by that popular group, or the joke Abdul told him yesterday. At times, he almost seemed normal. Or what passed for normal if you were Duo.

After weeks of frustrating non-discussions Quatre had given up. And Duo stopped talking, much to Quatre's dismay. His only recourse, it appeared, was to corner Duo and *make* him talk.


It was early evening. Duo had disappeared shortly after breakfast and Quatre hadn't seen him the rest of the day. Duo had never missed a meal before, and Quatre's worry for the other pilot increased dramatically. After the supper plates had been cleared and Duo *still* hadn't made an appearance, Quatre decided to check on him. If he was going to corner the boy, well, there was no time like the present, right?

Which was how he found himself standing outside Duo's bedroom, holding a plate of cooling food and hesitating. Quatre could hear nothing from the other side of the door, which was also unlike Duo. He had been overhearing quiet complaints from the servants for nearly four weeks about the continual racket in Duo's room. If the boy hadn't so thoroughly charmed everyone upon his initial arrival, no doubt the complaints would have been less quiet. His servants were notoriously long-suffering-anyone would have to be, to put up with the comings and goings of a Gundam pilot-but Quatre had heard what Duo considered "music," and couldn't blame them for grumbling. To hear none of the loud, thumping heavy metal coming from Duo's end of the hall was now a bit disturbing.

Eventually, Quatre ventured a quiet knock on the door. Receiving no answer, he knocked a little louder and called out.


This, too, received no answer. Concerned, Quatre opened the door and poked his head in.

Duo was sitting curled up on the window seat. He had pushed open the window and a faint breeze blew through, stirring the curtains and bringing with it the fresh scent of flowers from the garden and, below that, the dry, wild tang of the desert. The normally animated boy was sitting utterly still, watching the brilliant colors of the sunset fade into twilight.

Quatre was about to call out again, but Duo turned his head, and the words died on his lips.

Sitting in the window, with a shaft of warm golden light from the hallway illuminating him and the violet of the sky behind him echoing the color of his dark eyes, Duo was…breathtaking.

Quatre paused to gather himself-now was not the time for that sort of thing-and entered the room.

"Duo? I brought you some supper."

The braided boy got up from the window seat only to flop, face down, across the bed. "Thanks, Quatre, but I'm not real hungry right now."

This did nothing to allay Quatre's concern. He approached the bed cautiously, as if waiting for Duo to do something else unexpected. "You've hardly eaten a thing all day, Duo. You're worrying me."

The other pilot brought his arms up under his head but continued to mutter into the covers, "Sorry, Quatre. I don't mean to be a pain. It's just…" He trailed off and heaved a defeated sigh.

Quatre stood by the bed and resisted the urge to touch Duo's hair. He couldn't let his own feelings interfere when he only wanted to help Duo. "What is it?" Quatre went out on a limb and ventured a guess. "Duo, is it about Heero?"

Duo looked up, an almost comical expression of surprise on his face. "How did you--?" He shook his head and sighed ruefully. "Well, I guess I've been pretty obvious lately, haven't I?" His head dropped back onto his arms and he spoke quietly. "Yeah. It's about Heero."

Quatre inched a bit further onto this metaphorical limb and voiced the suspicion that had been nagging at him for the last few weeks. "Duo, are you and Heero…together?"

The braided boy snorted. "*I* thought so." He laughed without humor and his voice turned bleak. "I guess Heero didn't. Wish he'd found a better way to break up with me, though. I could get a complex if this sort of thing keeps happening."

The last comment confused Quatre, but he let it go for now, choosing to focus on the more immediate problem of Duo's depression over Heero. "I'm sure that's not what he was thinking. Heero *must* care for you." /How could he not?/ the blonde pilot thought.

"He blew himself up!" Duo reared up onto his hands and knees. "He-he knew…" He hesitated then and threw himself back against the head of the bed, slumping there. "He knew how I feel. If that had meant…anything at all to him, do you think he still would've tried to kill himself?" Duo's voice was quiet and uncertain, and very unlike his usual brash tones.

Quatre sat next to him on the bed, hands reaching instinctively to pet and soothe this hurt away. However, his proximity to the other boy was doing… interesting things to him, which he was desperately trying to ignore. Duo loved Heero; he didn't need Quatre adding to his current confusion by revealing his own feelings for the amethyst eyed pilot. "Duo. Heero's-"

Duo cut him off. "Yeah, I know. Heero's strange. To him the mission is everything. I'm probably just an afterthought."

"Duo…" What could he say to that? Duo was right-for Heero, the mission was more important than anything or anyone else. Perhaps that would change if they all survived the war, but for the moment…. Duo needed someone to show him how important he was, and not just as a Gundam pilot. /And I'm just the person to do it, aren't I?/ Quatre thought ruefully. "Duo, I-you're *not* an afterthought." With that, he simply leaned forward and kissed the other boy, trying to express all his concern and caring with that gesture.

Duo froze for an instant, then tentatively responded, kissing back. Quatre barely managed to bite back a moan. By the time they broke apart his heart was thumping in his chest, his body reacting to the other boy's nearness. His arousal must have been painfully evident. He shifted uncomfortably and willed Duo not to look down.

Duo, for his part, looked confused and a little flushed. "Quatre?" He was breathless, his voice a husky whisper. "What--?"

That voice sent a pleasurable shiver down Quatre's spine, but the feeling was lost as soon as he realized what had just happened. The Arabian pulled back a little, ashamed of himself. "I'm so sorry, Duo. I shouldn't have done that." He hung his head miserably. So much for his resolve not to confuse Duo.

"But-did you mean it?"

Quatre's head snapped up and his eyes locked with Duo's. The other boy looked faintly disbelieving and even a little hopeful. Quatre swallowed hard. Could Duo possibly be interested--? Mentally he shook himself. /Duo *is* in love with Heero, and I'm pretty sure Heero loves him too,/ he thought. /Duo just needs some reassurance now. He needs to know someone cares about him more than anything else. So get a grip, Winner, and say something comforting./

His face was solemn and his voice fervent when he answered. "Oh, yes. I meant it." Inwardly, he winced. That was *not* what he had been planning to say. But where Duo was concerned, he seemed to lose all self-control. Rather than fight this impulse, Quatre decided to follow it and see where it might take him.

Duo pulled away a little more, looking vulnerable. "Quatre, I-"

Quatre interrupted him. "I know you love Heero. I…I don't expect you to love me--" he looked down, unwilling to meet Duo's eyes, "--like I love you."

Duo made a faint noise but Quatre plowed ahead regardless. "I value your friendship, Duo, and I would never endanger that, but please, will you let me…" He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, and not even certain he was doing the right thing.

"Let you what, Quatre?"

"Let me make love to you. Let me show you how important you are, to me at least."

Duo reached out slowly and tilted Quatre's head up, forcing him to meet his eyes. Quatre sat, intensely aware of Duo's fingers on his jaw, and watched as the other boy studied his face. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake. It was not his intention when he came up here to try to talk Duo into his bed. He had only wanted to help the boy he had somehow grown to love, not seduce him. Duo leaned forward slightly and Quatre stiffened, holding very still. He was afraid if he allowed himself to move he might just jump Duo then and there. He was concentrating so intently on remaining still that the sudden heat of Duo's mouth on his took him quite by surprise.

Duo was kissing him.

_Duo_ was kissing _him_. His eyes fluttered closed and he leaned forward, melting into the other pilot. Hesitantly, he slipped an arm around Duo's waist, pulling the boy a little closer. Duo moved willingly, pressing himself against Quatre. Carefully, so as not to alarm him, Quatre allowed the fingers of his free hand to drift down Duo's chest, caressing his nipples gently through his shirt. Duo gasped and broke off the kiss, his head tumbling onto Quatre's shoulder. Quatre tilted his head a little, trying to see Duo's face.


The braided pilot looked up. His face was flushed prettily, cheeks and neck slightly pink, and his pupils had nearly consumed the dark indigo irises. Quatre allowed his hand to float lower, until Duo's erection was cupped beneath his palm. Duo moaned a little and his eyes half closed, and Quatre's control wavered. The Arabian pilot wanted to push Duo to the bed, the ground, _any_ flat surface, and take him. He was only afraid of moving too fast, or taking advantage of Duo's willingness. Besides, this was for Duo, not him.

He pulled Duo to his feet next to the bed, then pressed himself against Deathscythe's pilot and kissed him passionately. As their tongues intertwined slowly Quatre worked his hands under Duo's shirt, seeking skin.

At the first touch of cool fingers on his heated flesh, Duo seemed to come back to himself. He broke off the kiss and stared in apparent fascination at Quatre's soft, swollen lips. His breath heaved in and out of his chest and his eyes were wide. For a moment, Quatre worried he had moved too swiftly or Duo had changed his mind, when the violet eyed boy stepped forward again, urgency in all his motions. He grabbed at the other boy, hauling his shirt out of his pants and working the buttons with frantic fingers. As he struggled with Quatre's clothing, Duo pushed the boy back until his legs bumped the edge of the bed and he fell back onto it. Quatre made a small noise, almost a protest, as Duo draped himself over him, but reached up eagerly all the same to pull Duo down into a searing kiss.

The buttons on Quatre's shirt weren't cooperating. With a growl of frustration, Duo tugged at the fabric, sending the last few buttons flying across the room. As soon as the shirt was open Duo latched onto a small, pink nipple with his mouth, sucking at it, then grazing it lightly with his teeth.

Under the sudden assault from Duo's mouth Quatre moaned. "Nnnn…Duo…" He ran his hands through Duo's unruly bangs, and wished fervently that Duo had taken his braid out before they became… engrossed.

As if he heard Quatre's wish, the Shinigami pilot suddenly leaned back and reached behind himself for the long rope of his hair. He had his hand on the elastic band at the end before he hesitated.

"Um…Quatre?" His voice was unexpectedly soft and quiet.

"Yes, Duo?"

The taller boy looked down, suddenly shy, and fiddled with the end of his braid. "Do you…do you mind if I take my braid out?"

Quatre stared at him, puzzled. "Of course not. Why would I, Duo? Your hair is beautiful."

Duo flushed with pleasure at the compliment. "Well, Heero… Heero says it's a liability. He thinks it's stupid. I wasn't sure what you thought."

Quatre's eyes softened, and he smiled gently at the other pilot, while resolving to give Heero a good talking-to the next time they met. "Take your braid out, Duo."

He watched avidly as Duo pulled the elastic away and loosened the braid. When the three thick sections were separated, Duo shook his head, allowing the wavy chestnut locks to fall over his shoulders and down his back like water. Quatre gasped at the suddenly transformed God of Death. "Wallah! [1] Duo, you're so beautiful!" He couldn't catch his breath-every new thing Duo did just stole it away again. Quatre reached up to run his hands through the heavy mass of Duo's hair. He watched in fascination for several moments as his pale fingers combed through the dark stuff. Duo sat silently with his head bowed and Quatre realized in a flash of insight that Duo did not allow just anyone to see him with his hair down. It was a startlingly intimate gesture, and one that Quatre appreciated fully. He reached out, tipping Duo's chin up, and smiled into gentian eyes before drawing the other boy into a tender, passionate kiss.

As he pulled back, Quatre smiled mischievously and dove forward again, knocking Duo to his back and pinning him there. Duo gasped in surprise, but this was swiftly cut off as Quatre sealed his lips with a bruising kiss. Duo returned the kiss in full measure, only pausing to help Quatre drag his shirt the rest of the way off, and then pull Duo's black shirt off over his head. Quatre fell upon the newly exposed flesh immediately, sucking at the hardened nipples. He felt them pucker further under his mouth while Duo made the most enchanting noises above him. Quatre allowed his hands to slide over Duo's trim stomach to the waistband of his pants. He drew the zipper down excruciatingly slowly and slid a hand inside, grasping the hardness he found there. Duo gasped out his name and his hips thrust skyward almost of their own volition.

The American pushed Quatre's hands away without warning, shoving his pants down his long legs and kicking them off. He attacked Quatre's pants with the same fervor. The blonde boy laughed delightedly when Duo yanked both his boxers and his khakis off at the same time and tossed the knot of fabric over his shoulder, taking out the bedside lamp with a crash. Duo stared at the mess of broken glass with wide eyes, then smiled sheepishly. "Oops."

Quatre snagged Duo's boxers, sliding them down the other boy's legs and grinned. "It can be replaced." And with that, he sent Duo's boxers flying to catch on the corner of the bookcase. He leaned forward to kiss Duo again and Duo fell back, pulling the small Arabian down over him. Their bodies aligned perfectly, and both boys groaned as hardness met hardness. Quatre felt he might melt within the searing heat of Duo's arms and mouth and eyes.

Quatre drew back suddenly. He knew what he wanted to do, but he didn't want to hurt the braided boy.

"Duo… do you have any-"

It was almost as if the other pilot read his mind again. "Nightstand… top drawer."

Quatre groped in the drawer until he found a tube of lubricant. He squeezed a bit onto his fingers, and then settled between Duo's legs. He pushed Duo's knees up, then slid his fingers along the cleft in Duo's buttocks until he found the small, puckered opening. He ran one finger teasingly around the edge. Duo gasped and spread his legs a little further. He looked so lovely like that--hands clutching the sheets in tight fists and pink lips parted, panting with arousal, that Quatre had to pause just to admire him.

After a long moment Duo let loose a little keening cry, begging for more. "Quatre... please..." Quatre carefully pushed one slick finger past the tight ring of muscle, then another. Duo gasped and squirmed beneath him, pushing back against his hand. He added a third finger and began stretching the American carefully so as not to hurt him, then pushed his fingers a little deeper, searching for that special spot within Duo he knew he could reach now. Duo gasped suddenly, his hips bucking upwards, and Quatre knew he'd found what he sought. While he prepared himself, he prodded the spot once more, this time earning a moan, and reveled in the braided boy's responsiveness. Quickly, before Duo could protest, the blonde boy removed his fingers and pulled Duo's legs around his waist, placing himself at Duo's entrance. Resisting the urge to simply thrust forward, Quatre paused there. He needed to know for certain that this was what Duo wanted, and it was almost too late to turn back already. He needed to be inside Duo, and soon.

"Duo, are you sure? I can still stop…" The Arabian's voice was strained, attenuated with desire.

Duo's eyes flew open and the need in them was stark. "No! God, no, Quatre, please-don't stop!"

This was all the encouragement the little blonde needed. He gripped Duo's waist, tipping his hips, and began to inch forward. He saw Duo's jaw tighten as he struggled past the pain of penetration and leaned forward to kiss and smooth some of that tenseness away.

Quatre concentrated on moving slowly, trying to make things easier for Duo when the other boy suddenly *thrust*, and Quatre found himself embedded to the hilt in tightness and heat. He gasped loudly and remained very still, afraid any movement would send him over the edge, when Duo's husky voice penetrated his pleasure-clouded mind.

"Sorry, Q-chan. I know you're tryin' to be gentle, but that was drivin' me crazy!"

Quatre met his friend's, and now lover's, eyes and suddenly his heart was awash in emotions-feelings of longing and love and unbearable pleasure twisted together into a thread that bound him, at least temporarily, to the boy beneath him. The Arabian shifted a little, and the delicious friction sent warmth rocketing along his nerves. He moaned in pleasure…

…and gasped as he felt an echoing warmth. His thoughts spiraled in confusion. Was that Duo? Could he… feel him? Like he had felt Heero when he self-detonated?

Quatre began moving his hips in slow, careful thrusts and Duo tossed his head from side to side, moaning deep in his throat. Bursts of sensation continued to explode on his senses, both from himself and from Duo. The other boy's pleasure was as strong as his own, and Quatre felt himself losing what little control he had under the force of it. Or was it Duo that was losing control? The lines between his own feelings and the slender American's were fading rapidly until Quatre was aware only of the pleasure, huge and shuddering and threatening to engulf his mind completely. He adjusted his position, pulling Duo's legs over his shoulders and tilting the other boy's pelvis even further. He began thrusting harder, seeking that sweet spot he had found earlier, uncertain if the compulsion to do so was his own or Duo's. Finally, he found the right angle. Duo's hips jerked violently and Quatre's echoed the movement, causing him to brush against Duo's sweet spot once again. With little warning, the braided boy came, gasping out Quatre's name, and the feeling of Duo's orgasm, both clamping around his hardness buried deep in the other's body and raging across his nerves like fire, pushed the blonde pilot, trembling, over the edge.

When he came, it was like an epiphany. Stars shimmered at the edges of his vision, and all he could see was Duo's eyes, large and intensely violet, staring back at him in surprise. Even in the midst of orgasm this struck Quatre. Duo could feel it too, he realized. It wasn't just him. But that was the last coherent thought he had as pleasure continued to overwhelm his senses and he forgot to think for a while.

Quatre came back to himself slowly. He was draped over Duo's chest, his softening length still embedded in the other pilot's body. Duo was stroking his hair and humming softly. Quatre pulled back and allowed himself to slip from the other's body before snuggling close again. He knew he should get a towel and help Duo clean up-the other boy's belly and chest were sticky with semen-but he was reluctant to break this strange rapport so quickly. Even through the afterglow of his completion Quatre could feel Duo's contentment. He felt warm and loved, and truly happy for the first time in weeks, and Quatre felt unspeakably grateful to have had a part in that.

"Quatre..." Duo's voice was awed. "What was that?"

Quatre shifted so he could lookdown at Duo. "Well... you remember how I told you, when Heero self-detonated, it was like I was there with him? I could feel it--" he pointed to the center of his own chest, "--here. My uchuu no kokoro."

Duo nodded. "But *I* felt it, too, and I'm pretty sure I don't have an uchuu no kokoro."

"I know. I can't explain it, but--" Quatre dipped his head and blushed to the tips of his ears, "--maybe it's because of how I feel about you."

Duo hugged Quatre, pulling the boy down against him once more. "Quatre, I *do* love you, just... not like that. I'm sorry. I wish I could..."

Duo sounded genuinely apologetic and Quatre had to smile a little at his friend's kind heart. "You don't have to apologize, Duo. I'm okay. I'm just so glad--thank you for being with me like this, Duo." The warm feeling in his heart swelled again as Duo's arms tightened around him.

"It was my pleasure, Q-chan."

Quatre smiled again and tucked his head under Duo's chin, settling himself comfortably in the other's embrace. The two pilots lay quietly in one another's arms for some time.

Naturally, Duo was the first to break the silence.

"Ne, Quatre-I'm feeling a little gooey."

Quatre chuckled at Duo's choice of words. "Wait here. I'll get something."

He rolled from the bed and walked, nude, across to the small bathroom. He could feel Duo's eyes on him, tracking his every move, but he didn't mind. Through their rapidly fading connection he could feel Duo's pleasure in watching the play of muscles under his skin and the way the moonlight gleamed on his pale hair.

He returned with a damp washcloth and a towel and carefully, gently, cleaned Duo up. The other boy sighed softly and yielded completely to Quatre's tender ministrations.

His task finished, Quatre returned to the bed and pulled the covers over both of them. He noticed, regretfully, that he could no longer feel what Duo was feeling, but there seemed to still be, in the quietest corner of his mind, a faint awareness of the other boy that he didn't think would ever fade. Duo may have been in love with Heero, but he had shared a part of himself with Quatre, and that was enough for the blonde boy. With this new knowledge firmly in place, Quatre nestled into Duo's arms and drifted off to sleep.


[1] Wallah-an expression of surprise. "By God!" Or so I hear... *shrugs* I dunno. I don't speak Arabic.