His hands removed her clothes, a familiar process, but one he always took pleasure in. He liked exposing her skin and it comforted him that he was the only one allowed to.
They had taken things slow--and by slow, that meant that whenever he felt too constrained by anything, he would leave, then come back when he had time to fully process things and what they meant.
She was patient in nature, and so had not questioned it, had let him do it his way. They talked when he returned about his absence, and he left nothing out, both about where he had been and done, and why he had left in the first place.
They were both rational people, so he never felt awkward explaining himself to her. She was compassionate about it, if not fully understanding.
He knew she didn?t like it when he left, that she had a complex about people leaving her after everything with her family. He figured she felt it was some shortcoming of hers that sent him away, but he didn?t know how to tell her it was those shortcomings that kept him coming back.
Always after they had removed all their clothing would they kiss and caress for long minutes, especially when he had just returned. He would run his hands along her heated skin, his mind slipping into a long-awaited peace. His hands came to her hips as he entered her, and he groaned as she sighed.
His thoughts turned immediately to a show he had seen when he was gone. Her hips began to move slowly against his, but he stopped her. She opened her eyes and looked at him.
It was strange, he thought, that he was thinking about something else with her when he never had before. He had been on the L1 colony and had been passing a television store. Some news report show was on and he had stopped to listen as a former Specials was questioned about the high death rate among past soldiers and how he had overcome the obstacles as he had gone through it first-hand.
The man had spoken of the hardships for some long minutes before the reporter asked him how he had gotten through it all.
"Home." He had replied. He paused, and a far-away look came across his face, a smile teasing his lips. The reporter seemed surprised.
"And what is ?home? exactly?" She had asked.
"Warmth." He answered quickly and softly, and then, as though he realized he was suppose to elaborate, he continued. "It?s warm, and it causes a sharp ache deep inside you that never goes away. There?s fear too, and it?s overwhelming. You?re always afraid of losing it- all the time it consumes your thoughts, the ideas of stability and security. You want to believe in it, even if you aren?t sure how. You want it to work more than anything, even though all the time you?re thinking ?this isn?t normal? and ?I have to be doing something wrong here?. The best thing that helps that is if you have someone to share it with. Because it?s hard to find, but once you do, the comfort and serenity is indescribable."
Heero suddenly understood why he was thinking about it as he lay inside of her.
"Home," he said, as though that would explain everything. "This feels?like home."
She looked at him, her eyes searching and prickling with tears. She kissed him and began moving her hips again, and this time he didn?t stop her.
They both knew then that he wouldn?t be running away anymore. He wouldn?t have to.
AN: for everybody who needed a lil fluff. VERY quickly done (and not spell-checked or grammatically checked), and not really up to par, but everybody's been compaining about the angst that's been permeating round here, so blah. Some fluff and cheese, and if lucky, a little bit of sap. Now I'm going back into my little dark hole of angst and pointless (not to mention plotless) lemons. So nahhh!
I like the whole intake on the "home" bit, very fitting and yet so true in many ways.
