Author's Note: This fits with chapter twenty-five of Witness.
Diary of a Protected Witness Part 18
Revelations
Dear Diary,
Chang's a complete ass. I swear, I'll believe that to my dying day--which could be almost any time now.
I mean, fuck--I had some fun with the poor guy, I gotta admit. Skinny-dipping in the hot tub was a riot, just because of the way he sputtered and blushed and got totally mortified by my nudity.
I wondered if maybe he was a closet bi-sexual. I mean, would a regular heterosexual guy give a shit about another guy's bare ass? Seriously. Guys change in locker rooms all the time. And they don't get embarrassed about it. Hell, some of 'em compare size, while they're at it--quite shamelessly. It's a macho thing.
But Chang? When I strolled through the living room peeling out of the terry cloth robe I'd borrowed from a closet, I thought the poor guy'd get a nosebleed, his face got so red. Every ounce of blood in his body must have rushed straight to his cheeks.
What a fuckin' prude!
Yuy, on the other hand, had a lot fewer hang-ups.
When he showed up and sat on the edge of the hot tub, I figured out right quick that he and Chang were up to something. I mean, he'd been working so hard to put distance between us after the sex on the safe house floor--and all of a sudden he was leaning over, running his fingers through the water of the hot tub as if he might reach in and touch me.
Gotta say--it took my breath away.
I wanted him to touch me so badly.
"Coming, Maxwell?"
"I could be."
Fuck! Could I ever! If he'd just slide that hand down between my legs and--
Oh, right. Coming to lunch--
He flirted with me. The guy was fuckin' flirting again. And as for me, I was just so hung up on his moody blue eyes and that muscular body, that I'd take anything he'd give.
Of course, when I touched his wrist, he flinched away from me, as usual. And I remembered the interrogation room, and his snide crack about "leftovers," and man--it just stung like blazes.
Until he hinted that if Chang hadn't been hovering nearby, maybe there'd have been more to his teasing than putting on a show for his partner. He didn't say what he might've done--but he sure seemed to be trying to say he'd have done something.
And God, I wanted him to do something to me in the worst way!
Shit. Still in way over my head, wasn't I?
~*~
When I woke up that night to Yuy yelling at the top of his lungs, I just about jumped out of my skin, terrified that we were about to be shot at again. But it turned out he just had a nightmare.
Could I ever relate to that! I didn't tell him, but I'd hardly slept two hours at a time since Zechs' death. I woke up most nights in a cold sweat, gasping for breath as I relived the murder.
Before that, my worst nightmares had been of the fire that killed the Reapers. Even though I wasn't there to see it, my imagination filled in the screams, and the smoke, and the smell of scorching flesh--night after night.
It was better when I slept with Trowa. For some reason, his presence seemed to ease the tortured dreams my brain wanted to conjure up; though occasionally, he had to hold me while I sobbed through an especially painful recollection of two cops dragging me into an alley and raping me when I was around nine or ten. Yeah, that was something I didn't care to share--with anyone. Even Zechs hadn't been privy to that tidbit.
I mean, sure, I was gonna tell him about it--and I would've, eventually. But--fuck--it was just plain agony to even remember it, let alone talk about it. Stupid little shit that I was at that age, I should've known better than to let myself get cornered. It felt like I'd walked right into it; like I deserved the crap I got, because I was dumb enough to let it happen.
I remember Trowa lying there holding me in a death-grip, saying "not your fault" over an' over again. God love him--the guy tried; but I never quite got to the point of fully believing him.
"I know a little about nightmares," I confessed to Yuy, hoping to get him to open up a little and tell me what had yanked him so forcefully out of sleep.
"I'm sure you do. But you can't help me with mine."
At least he admitted I might know what I was talking about. But the stubborn fucker wouldn't even give me a chance to try to help him. "Mister Tough-Guy Yuy doesn't need anyone or anything, does he?" I pointed out snidely. "Sweet dreams."
It would've served the proud asshole right if he didn't sleep a wink the rest of the night. As for me, I went back to bed, hoping my screams wouldn't be the next wakeup call for all three of us.
Of course, when I saw Yuy nodding over his coffee cup a few hours later, I felt like a heel for being so grumpy. He really looked like he hadn't gone back to sleep. And having had the same problem with my own nightmares on many occasions, I could honestly sympathize.
"Morning."
"So it is," he sighed.
"Is it okay if I sit out on the deck this morning?"
"Not in the hot tub?"
Oh, could it be he was in the mood to flirt again? I looked a bit harder at him, trying to guess at his intentions. "Well, maybe once Wuffers is up and around I'll take a dip--just for the shock value."
C'mon, Yuy--offer to join me...
He noticed my sketch pad under my arm and asked about it, so I told him it helped pass the time.
"Like sex?" came a rather sharp response.
Well--ouch. I wasn't quite expecting the rebuke in his tone, let alone the change in subject. "I told you that wasn't what it was about!" I found myself once again trying to defend my motives.
"No--it was a distraction," he accused.
"You won't let it be anything else!" I shot back.
"Such as--?"
Whoa. He called my bluff there. I was going to have to 'fess up to having wanted more than a quick fling, or let him keep thinking I was the kind of slut he'd had me pegged for from the start.
Unfortunately, it was really starting to matter to me that he not keep that opinion of me.
"Such as--a beginning."
"A beginning? Maxwell, you're in witness protection. After the trial you'll be relocated. Do you understand what that means?"
Well, fuck yeah, I understood. It meant I'd never see Trowa again, or Father Maxwell, Sister Helen and the kids, or Howard, or anybody I cared about.
"So how can you begin anything?"
Ah--time for a little Maxwell philosophy. "Yuy--there can be beginnings, middles, and endings--all in the blink of an eye. Who's to say the value in a moment is how long it lasts?"
Case in point, our wild sex on the safe house floor had really only been a few minutes. But I could still feel the hard grasp of his hands on my shoulders, and the heat of his kiss, and the burn as he pushed inside of me--even the throb of his pulse against my inner walls as he came--I could feel it all as if it just happened. It was a memory I planned to take to the grave with me.
"If that attack on the cabin had happened while we were-- We'd be dead now, because we got lost in a moment."
"But what a moment."
I, for one, would have died happy.
OWARI
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