Desires
of the Heart
Chapter
6
By zapenstap
Fire. Heat. The sharp stench of metal and electricity…the awareness of blood, blood scorched and obscured by flame.
Fighting. It's all I know how to do.
Heero eyes snapped open and closed in the darkness, desiring sleep and afraid of dreams. Moments like this came upon him sometimes still, moments of bleak gloom where all he could recall was the hot sticky heat of battles and the cold, crisp intellect with which he strove to fight them. But emotions in war were tangled things. He could not always keep the heat of the fires blasting around his mobile suit from igniting his heart, and he knew that when he used his anger or his fear he killed better, mastered the situation better, became that fighting animal that he half revered and was half afraid.
At length he realized his eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling, his hair mussed and damp upon his pillow, sweat cooling on his body in the pitch darkness of his room. A little moonlight bathed the carpet in a shimmer silver glow from the window, but it was hardly enough to see by.
Heero sat up and hung his naked chest and arms over his knees, breathing deeply. He felt so much older than he had in those days and more than because he had finished growing. He also felt more grounded, steady, more aware of himself and the world around him. Even so, he was aware that he was not a pacifistic person. There was a rollicking turbulence in his heart that beat in time with battles, an adrenaline that hungered for movement and pain and the highest degree of emotion. He had a fighting spirit, an athlete's motivational force, all tucked carefully away in a calm and calculating package, a young man who could observe and live calmly unnoticed one moment and explode with pinpoint accuracy and the deadly power of a thunderstorm the next. It came out in his dreams, and in his memories.
He tried to banish both, to smother the past.
Awake in the darkness, he remembered where he was, and remembered too what had happened tonight. A new desire flamed in his heart, an instinct of which he always been aware, but a desire he had muted and ignored during the war. What surprised him was that the emotions were similar, the desire and confusion and urgency the same. It came to him in sensations, a restless, aching need for the scent of a woman and the touch of creamy soft skin. He imagined a girl, unclothed, relaxing into his arms and lying down with him, then swallowed, closing his eyes to more poignantly clear desires. They were very vivid thoughts these days, not the unclear sometimes passing and sometimes obsessive thoughts they had been in adolescence, but rich, detailed and focused. The thought of how the skin of a girl must feel against his, her legs intertwined with his, her breasts available to his hands, was a throat-drying curiosity that was both intense and completely unfathomable.
He thought of Relena. He wasn't sure if he should feel ashamed of that. She was a girl, and for the first time the sexual desires he couldn't fully expel seemed within reach of being satisfied. Maybe. He didn't know how he felt about her, nor how she felt about him. It was just that, at dinner, he couldn't stop staring at her, strangely moved by the melodic sound of her voice, feeling so comfortable in her presence. The things she said, her pretty face and painted lips, the shining hair, the way she had of walking and the amazing, terrifying things she did with her eyes without seeming to realize it, captivated him. It was new, new to see her that way, and yet old too, like remembering a forgotten dream. Being with Relena was like living in a garden of white gazebos, French doors, orchards, and flowerbeds overflowing with violets and dahlias, a garden of color and sound were the west wind blew in a golden hope of sweet promised riches yet unfathomed. He had always thought of her that way, a sort of unbelievable thing, tragically perfect, hopelessly romantic and fatally idealistic. And then he ate dinner with her, and found that it was all real somehow, different, but real. Thinking of her he was lost in a dream of half-conceived ideas and hopes.
Today he would see her again. Maybe this time he would touch her. That's what he wanted to do. He wanted to get close… to Relena…to a girl; he had trouble separating the two. Relena was an amazing person, alike and yet not like him. He imagined her being the naked girl in his arms and let out a sigh in the darkness. His head was starting to hurt a little. He had been taught to fight, and that was an instinct. This was an instinct too, but of a different sort. He was even less sure of his feelings now than he had ever been in a battle.
Heero lay back again on the pillows, sorting through the memories he had of Relena idly, trying to decide the best way to proceed. Eventually his thoughts became foggy, steeping from reality to half remembered thoughts he knew he invented himself. They turned into very strange dreams which, as they became more satisfying also became more frustrating.
When Heero awoke the next morning his aesthetic feelings had melted back into the recesses of his brain. He found instead that his back hurt, his hair needed to be washed and he felt half drunk. Shaking his head, he rolled awkwardly out of bed and began getting ready for the day. Even so, his thoughts still swam with images. He didn't think consciously on them, they just were, like thoughts of anything, but constant and plaguing. Near the end of the day he allowed himself to call her, dialing the numbers resolutely, expecting to hear the voice that matched the image in his mind.
"Hello?" she answered. For a moment he stopped thinking, gathering himself, and then he surprised himself when he spoke smoothly, feeling as tranquil as the tropics, his voice a slow, deep and steady rhythm that conveyed all his exact thoughts exactly as he meant to convey them.
"I would love to see you tonight, Heero," Relena whispered when he asked. Heero was conscious of a tightness in his lungs, a sort of breathy expectation that wound up his insides, but it didn't interfere with his thoughts or speech this time.
"Would you like to see where I live?" he asked before he thought about it. The silence on the other end of the line made him want to bite his tongue. He hadn't considered the connotations of such a statement. He thought he might have shocked her. "I mean that as it sounds," he said, and felt his face getting hot at the mere thought of what she might have imagined in that second before he corrected himself. "I'd like to show you where I live. We could make dinner."
He couldn't read her tone, but she responded in the affirmative. He offered to pick her up and drive her over. She said she wouldn't mind driving herself. He gave her directions and then spent ten minutes saying goodbye. He had never had a phone conversation that long before.
The house seemed very lonely and quiet as Heero went about tidying it up. He wasn’t a messy person and had relatively few possessions, but the cushions on the couch were straightened, the dishes in the sink washed and put away and the bed made with the utmost attention to detail. He checked his mirrors for excessive dust and then called Ted in from the backyard to help settle his nerves while he waited for Relena.
The dog was intelligent and obedient to a fault. It had the uncanny ability to know exactly what its master was feeling and made Heero feel almost pathetic when it lay down at his feet and rested its back against his ankles. Heero leaned forward on the couch, his elbows resting over his knees as he stared at Ted's glossy black coat blankly. They sat together in silence, though Ted occasionally turned his head around to look Heero in the face with bright, soulful eyes. Heero scratched him behind the ears when he did that; neither of them could get very settled. Ted knew Heero was waiting for something, and when it came to it, Ted caught sounds at the front door only a split second faster than Heero himself did. They both scrambled to their feet at the same time, Ted letting out a happy bark like he sometimes did when Heero had company, racing to the door in a black streak of muscle and glossy fur. When Heero was slower to respond, that bark turned into a whine of urgency.
"Ted, get down," Heero rebuked as the dog puts its paws up by the door handle and let out another bark. At the sound of his voice, Ted dropped obediently to his haunches, mouth open and tongue hanging out in a happy pant. Heero patted his head unconsciously, scratching behind the ears briefly before he opened the door to let Relena in.
She was wearing jeans and a yellow T-shirt, fitted to her body with high sleeves so that he couldn't help noticing that she had breasts. Her breasts weren't large, but he was still curious. Breasts were all different and they were all interesting. He couldn't explain why exactly. He wanted to touch them, and as the thought materialized, he looked away.
"Hey," he said, averting his eyes and stepping back as she walked into his entry hall. She had her purse in front of her, held lightly in both hands. Her hair was down around her shoulders, her bangs swept up and styled sparsely over her forehead. She smiled at him, creamy cheeks rounding further in an angelic face. She looked normal and natural and touchable to him.
He shut the door without expression and led her silently into his living room, showing her the couches and the kitchen and gesturing to the door that led to his untidy backyard and porch. She wanted to see the upstairs so he showed her that too, relieved that he had picked up his room this morning. He watched her from the doorway, one hand against the wall, as she roamed about his room with her hands at her sides, glancing at his shelves and drawers and bed, noting the colors he used in his décor, the bits of clutter that personalized the space. Heero watched her until she turned to glance at him, smiling slightly, and joined him again at the doorway. Without a word he led her back downstairs.
Perhaps he should have spoken more, but he felt that Relena was not perturbed by his silences.
"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked her finally.
"Water is fine," she said. He couldn't detect anything from her voice.
"You can sit on the couch if you like," he said softly as he progressed himself to the kitchen. "When dinner's ready you can join me at the table. It's mostly done." She sat down and he watched her body fold gracefully, her slim legs crossing smoothly at the knees, before turning to the kitchen.
Their second date was weirder than the first. Heero kept seeking for familiarity and found himself mostly self-conscious. He hated being self-conscious, especially in his own home. He used to not be self-conscious at all. That sort of thing took an awareness of society and a concern for the thoughts of others which was new to him. But he cared immensely what Relena thought. He was also more distracted by her body than he thought he would be, which didn't help, and began wondering when kisses and touches were considered permissible. His whole body seemed to be filled with electricity. He would have liked to wrap and arm around her waist. He would have liked to do more, if he really thought about it, but not too much more, not yet. He was still a little scared.
Dinner was simple and homemade. Relena uncurled herself from the couch and joined him at the table, complimenting the food with a sweet politeness that made him smile secretly. But he paid little attention to dinner. He was more interested with what was supposed to happen after they finished eating. When the dishes were put away, Relena agreed to watch a movie and he let her select one from pay-per-view, a psychological thriller part criminal and part political.
Then he turned off the lights.
Relena had settled in the corner of the couch, her eyes shining in the darkness as she looked at the television screen. He watched her from the wall beside the light switch until she looked at him. When she smiled, he approached her softly.
"Heero," she whispered, and the darkened lights made odd shadows on her face. "What are you thinking?"
She was his Relena again, Relena Peacecraft. He could tell by the glint in her eyes, the half speculative, half certain-sure gaze that caught at him suddenly. "Nothing," he replied in tones that made darkness seem smooth. The thoughts he had just been having suddenly seemed a little wrong.
She lowered her eyes, her hands relaxing limply over her knees. "Sit with me?" she asked, not looking at him as she moved aside so that there was room for him by the edge of the couch.
Once more fascinated, he sat beside her, aware of the closeness of her body to his, the breath from her throat and her glistening eyes. He half opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak the movie came on. Relena turned away when it did, sitting primly beside him with her hands on her knees, looking a little tense to him. He was tense too. He forced himself to relax, leaning against the armrest. Relena glanced at him and did the same, her shoulders sinking into the back of the couch. Heero found himself watching Relena and tracing the lines of her body more than the screen.
"Have you seen this one?" Relena whispered when there was a break in the dialogue.
"No," he said, wondering if she was feeling at all like he was, like the movie didn't matter hardy at all. He also didn't feel like himself. It was strange and discomforting. He didn't know what to think about it.
"I missed what he said," Relena said later, during a crucial scene. He repeated what she had missed, still only half paying attention. She smiled and made a joke about his being able to pick up on things so easily. Before he realized it she had shifted on the couch, turning slightly so that her shoulder rested against his. If he had been able to make up his mind and summon the courage, he would have reached for her and brought her to lie against him. As it was, he merely stopped breathing and became dreadfully confused.
It felt so ridiculously juvenile. And yet. And yet… He reached for her hand, the one lying next to her leg, barely touching her little finger, merely brushing it experimentally. He had lost all focus of the movie. Her hand twitched next to his, dancing in a small space as if wishing to embrace his and yet not sure. It should be a difficult thing to hold her hand, but Heero found himself unable to just grasp it. He just stared at her manicured nails. He vaguely realized that she wasn’t watching the movie either. Her eyes were pinned to a spot between her shoes. The silence stretched, the movie blurring into the background.
"Relena," he said quietly. He had two fingers touching her hand now, carefully, like the brush of a feather in a sacred place.
She turned her head, looking up at him with sparkling blue eyes. "Yes, Heero?"
They both had to be thinking on their physical proximity, both afraid and desiring it to be closer, and yet they ignored it with such energy it couldn't help but be obvious, like an explosion in a tight room purposefully ignored. They were too reserved, too inexperienced, and too unsure to be too bold. Relena ignored the gestures of his fingers pointedly, looking into his face and sometimes at anything in the room except him. When she did look at him he found himself staring into her eyes, feeling strangely vulnerable and liking the feeling.
"I wanted to tell you," he said slowly, "what our alliance, our friendship has meant to me…" He paused, not sure exactly what he was saying. I've never been in love with you, he thought, for a time I was afraid of you because I thought you might love me.. But now… He wasn't at all sure what he meant. He wasn't even sure what decision he should make. "I'm grateful," he said. "You…" He really didn't know how to say this. "You're an amazing person. I don't always know what I want, but now I…"
Her hand slipped suddenly into his, as if she had just gotten a clue that he wasn't going to grab her. He felt her palm against his and felt a surge of satisfaction that was difficult to express. Nothing in her expression had changed, though. Her eyes were serious, the serious, intense eyes he rarely saw in another face besides his own. He caressed her fingers, to soothe her, to communicate what he was trying to say. I want to try this. It was still a surprise when she caressed him back. He suddenly remembered that there was a reciprocal in this arrangement, and was surprised by how it made him feel.
"You're amazing too, Heero," Relena whispered. She met his eyes for a moment and then looked away, her throat flashing as she swallowed and pushed her hair behind her ears with her free hand. "If you want to try this…" She hesitated noticeably, drawing back a little as if trying to gauge his thoughts. He didn't speak.
They were sitting side by side, hands clasped, Relena with her head turned to face him, her shoulder touching his. He really wanted to pull those shoulders away from the couch and against his chest, but he didn't. Her skin seemed to glow in the light of the television. He wanted to touch it…her shoulders, her neck. He just looked at her, wondering what she was thinking. She turned her head away again, toward the television.
He held her hand throughout the movie, clasping it even when their palms began to get sweaty, thinking constantly about how he could touch her more, draw her closer. He wondered if he should kiss her, and if so in what places, but he didn't think he had the courage. She might be offended. It might be too soon. He still thought about it.
When the movie ended and the credits began to roll, they sat for several moments longer in the darkness, fingers intertwining now. Surely they were both way too old for this, but what had age to do with the first one? They were people unsure of themselves and each other.
Relena suddenly began to talk. Heero blanked momentarily, pulling himself out of a haze, and then attended to her words. She clutched his hand, caressing his fingers while she stared at her knees, and talked about her life. He began to get a feeling of how lonely she was. It resonated with him. He broke in when a thread of silence hung between her words, echoing her sentiment. He could bring himself to talk about his feelings on his past, but he talked about the colonies, the empty halls of his home, his overgrown backyard. Relena talked about her apartment, her office, her travels in space.
"It's so empty up there," she whispered. "I can never decide if it's beautiful or sad. It's something I want to look at, but…"
"But not to live in," he finished. "Yeah."
There didn't seem to be
more to say but they said more, haltingly at first and then with less reserve.
Relena listened as he talked about life on the Colonies and selected memories
of his childhood. He had been lost in those days, he told her, living for a
cause because he had to do something, anything, to know he was alive. He had never
even been really sure if he had been trying to prove his own worth or discount
it. She listened with understanding eyes, gazing at him with a look that seemed
both knowing and interested. When he fell silent she told him about growing up
in the conventional upper class, the rituals, the routine and formalities, all
of it empty and meaningless until he dropped into her life. She squeezed his
hand then, turning to look at him with her lower lip caught in her teeth and
the skin above the bridge of her nose crinkled. He caught a
seriousness in her words, a surge of emotion in her eyes, amplified by
the way she squeezed his hand and seemed to be saying a million things she
couldn't put into words. He wasn't entirely sure of any of them. For a second,
he really felt he could kiss her, but instead he found himself saying, "it's getting late." It was almost
Heero
felt something cold and wet touch the hand that held Relena's
and he released her suddenly. Ted sniffed the scents in the air between their
unclasped hands and then put his head on the couch, rolling his dark eyes to
look at Heero pathetically. Heero
looked at Ted half with annoyance and half with relief. Swallowing, he stood
up, walking around the couch to let the black
Solemnly, he walked her to the door, a little sad now that he hadn't picked her up so he could drive her home. Instead, goodbyes were said before his front door. That was not the place to kiss anybody, even if he had the courage to. Relena fidgeted, as if waiting for something or trying to decide if she was supposed to wait. Before she could make up her mind, Heero stepped close and wrapped his arms around her. She returned the hug, her arms reaching over and around his shoulders, pulling him close. All at once, the scent he had caught tantalizing whiffs of on the couch overpowered his senses. He took deep breaths, inhaling the sweet smell, which really was like sugar and spice, and delighted at the way his hands wrapped around her middle to rest on her lower back. The small of her back seemed made for his hands.
When she finally left, he hardly took note of it, still awash in sensations, mind buzzing with the conversation and the feel of her hand in his. "I'll call you," he whispered, and had the satisfaction of seeing her smile before she disappeared into the darkness, swallowed by the soft velvet of the night.
*****
Relena drove home with only half of her mind on the road. The road seemed to blur in a succession of yellow flashes beneath her, to the point where if she unfocused her vision enough, she might believe that she was sitting still while the world flew under her. As it was, signs and trees and other cars just blurred by without importance, like a movie playing outside the window.
She could still feel the impression of Heero's hands in hers, could still see his dark blue eyes gleaming in the light left in the room, eyes that looked into her face. To her, he looked and smelled like heaven, like something solid and wonderful, beyond all the desires of her heart. She wanted to sink into him when he looked at her like that; sharp, intense eyes sharp and intensely focused on her. For awhile she had studied his face, his nose and cheeks and eyes, hair and lips, wishing to touch him, to feel his arms around her. She had wanted him to kiss her. Several times she thought he was thinking about it too, but he didn’t.
It was all she thought about on the drive home, all she thought about when she parked her car and climbed up the stairs to her room. She thought about Heero as she brushed her teeth and hair, changed her clothes, washed her face and slipped into the cool sheets of her covers. She wondered suddenly, lying there, how it would feel to lie next to Heero in bed. She would bet he was warm, warm and safe, someone she curl up close to while she dreamed. Then she wondered about kissing him again, and other things, but mostly kissing. She had never been kissed and she so wanted Heero to kiss her, not for the first time in her life.
She couldn't sleep for thinking of it. When and how did first kisses happen?