Send in the Clowns

A Shitty Day

Fall was always chilly in Kingston, but today Quatre felt it more so. The professor of his class had pulled him aside to discuss his "recent lack of effort" that could be rectified through attendance of private tutorials. Dr. Laerte was quite clear in what he thought of Quatre and made certain that Quatre knew that he was "going out of his way" to assure that "even the simplest of minds" could pass the class.

Quatre shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as he waited for the bus. His eyes betrayed him as they began to tear. He wasn't doing terrible. Not by a long shot. He may not have been the best in the class but he knew that he was at least in the 'A' range. Telling himself that Dr. Laerte was only worried about the slipping grades did not make him feel any better. The Doctor had just been so derogatory in his remarks that Quatre was some parts furious but, more parts afraid.

With a ragged exhalation, Quatre tried to reign in his thoughts. He ran his gloved hand through his hair and let out a choking gasp. He was not going to cry. He looked down Princess Street and saw the bus approaching. It looked rather full. He was definitely not going to cry in front of his peers. It wasn't proper. Taking another deep breath Quatre girded himself for the cold walk home.

It wasn't like he lived terribly far anyways. As a matter of fact, he lived a mere 4 blocks away. Quatre was simply being lazy and it was this aspect of himself that was getting him into trouble. He questioned why he was so lazy and slow. Why he was upset over nothing. Quatre tried to square his shoulders as though he had been slouching but, he knew he never slouched. His form was perfect since birth.

Never show them weakness, son.

Through his entire inner turmoil only Quatre's eyes nearly betrayed him. Quatre thought that was pretty good and continued to lambaste himself as the doctor had. He balled his hands in his pockets discreetly and remembered his mail. Calmly, he walked over to a bench along the street and pulled out the single postcard.

Though his face remained impassive, inside Quatre's tension began to ease away. On the front of the postcard was a picture of his best friend, Duo. Duo stood on the card in front of a festival shrine dressed like a geisha in training. Quatre could only assume "Heero" was taking the picture.

Duo was everything Quatre wasn't. Beautiful, gregarious, charming…a free spirit. This particular free spirit had went on a trip to Japan and had never come back. Apparently, he found a reason to stay: Heero. Sometimes Quatre wished Duo would video call but, knew his friend wouldn't. Instead he sent copious letters, gifts, and post cards which eased some of Quatre's loneliness.

Heya Quat!

WuFei sounds ballin'. Is he really as hot as you say? Me thinks, someone has got himself a bit of a crush. Take a picture next time! Naked preferably. Oooooh and wet. And maybe hard—oh I'm sorry—erect too. HAH! I bet that got you blushin' mister-perfect-composure. God, how I miss you, Quat. There's so much goin' on and so much I gotta tell ya. Specifically about my Heero! You think you've got great control, you're nothing but a n00b compared to my man. Also, one more thing…some not so good news. This will be my last postcard for a while. But, I swear your next present will be worth the wait ^.~

Your BFF,

Duo

Quatre mentally caught his hand before it clutched his heart. Duo, the beautiful braided maniac wouldn't contact him for a while but, at least this post card reminded him of the one other friend he did have. The one friend he had managed to make. Quatre put the card down and pretended the red staining his cheeks was due to the cold. He had pictured WuFei, his friend and only his friend, naked and that had sent him burning down to his—up to his ears.

Once more Quatre needed a good deep breath to get his bearings. He closed his eyes, inhaled, and then raised his head. What he saw before only succeeded in stealing his breath away yet again.

Across the street from the bench was a store open late for the small town of Kingston. Quatre looked right and left and realized he had been taking the long route home. Still, he was glad or else he would have missed the store.

Send in the Clowns

The lights were warm and yellow and the music airy and light. There were little wind up toys and kitschy kitchen knick knacks. The store was long and narrow with rows of funny cards, spinning wind catchers, and the most beautiful stain glass lamps. Everywhere Quatre turned there was colour and sound and warmth. The store was absolutely charming and he could not control the small smile that escaped him. He reached out to touch a colourful set of matryoshka measuring cups and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears…

"What are you doing in here?"

All at once, the store's magic faded and Quatre came back to cold reality donning his mask of politely affronted patron.

"I am looking through your wares." Quatre answered raising his nose in challenge to the clerk.

The man at counter glared hard at the snob, "The store's closed. I locked the door." The man met Quatre's challenge.

"Well, obviously you're mistaken. I simply let myself in. The light was on and…" Quatre responded patiently and realised that he wasn't quite sure when he came in, or how. "…the store is beautiful."

The man continued to glare at Quatre suspiciously and Quatre, when all was said and done, didn't shy away from the look. Instead, Quatre did his best imitation of his father, as he was taught to do, and stared down his nose as he noticed the clerk's heavily tattooed and pierced person.

The clerk snorted in disgust and a muscled arm to open the front door. It was locked. The clerk folded his arms and looked at Quatre hard.

Quatre fought not to shrivel under the intense scrutiny, "I'm sure I came through the front. Perhaps the door wasn't shut quite all the way." Quatre's eyes fluttered with uncertainty. Sometimes Quatre wanted to damn his eyes for their constant betrayal…as well as for their astuteness. This man, while extremely put out, was most certainly one of the most handsome men Quatre had ever had the opportunity to see.

"The door has a bolt. If you put back anything you've taken I won't report you," came the stranger's deeps rumble, "I know you types just need a thrill every now and again." The man finished with a sneer.

"Now, you see here…" Quatre stopped ogling the man's body and made the mistake of looking straight into his eyes—eye. One eye was the greenest green Quatre had ever seen. It was a green that was hidden deep within the forests. The eye was deep and beautiful and looked to have many secrets while its partner perpetuated the theory by hiding behind a cascade of roan bangs. Quatre lost himself in the depths of that eye until a slender brow raised itself. Once more Quatre realized he had lost himself and looked at the man completely. Handsome or not, this man was a butthead!

"Now, you see here—"

"You already said that," the stranger quipped.

"—I most certainly did not come in to steal. I walked in off the street. The shop is beautiful and it's a shame the employees are not the same." Quatre mustered all the haughtier and control he could. This day was not going well at all, "If you insist in believing I am a thief feel free to check my bag!" Quatre finished and handed his pack over the counter.

The muscled, tattoed meathead took the bag but, instead of checking, he let out a wry smile.

"I don't think you've taken anything, Richie Rich. I don't think you had the time." Quatre was about to respond with a scathing remark but, thought better of it when he met the man's eye. "Don't think acting shocked and offended will save your butt. I want you out of this store and I don't want you to come back."

Quatre grabbed his bag and looked at the clerk head on, "My name is Quatre. My wealth does not make me. And I am not a thief. I understand your position as an employee here, but you are rude and uncouth. I have done nothing…taken nothing. But, I suppose you haven't heard innocent until proven guilty."

Quatre put on his pack and tried to flee as quickly as possible. His lip trembled and quavered and the tears came unbidden to his eyes before rolling down his cheeks. If he were brave enough he would have looked at the rude man and noticed a trace of guilt on his handsome countenance. But Quatre was not brave and instead he fled silently into the night.

Quatre embraced the chill as he fumbled towards the sanctuary of his home. It was just Quatre's luck that one of the most handsome men he met would turn out to be an utter boar. Quatre walked and thought. Thought about his lousy day, thought about his missing friend, and most of all he thought about the beautiful stranger.

There was something enchanting about him. Not just the secrets of his eyes but much more. It was in the finely boned structure of his face. He had high cheekbones and a sharply angled jaw. His nose was narrow and sleek. His body tall. He looked elven but at the same time virile and wild. The enigma didn't stop at just his looks. It was in his mannerisms as well. His movements languid but, rather than lazy, it was like a panther waiting to strike. When he moved, the tribal tattoos danced over his arms and neck as though writhing to break free. As though the stranger was aching to break free and run wild. And the voice…the voice was incomparable. The man was dangerous.

Quatre thought—no—Quatre knew he was attracted to WuFei. At this point Quatre knew he had more than a crush on WuFei. WuFei was smart, more than educated. He was disciplined and an accomplished martial artist. He had a dry wit and a surly demeanour but, his heart was better than gold. He had waited for Quatre to come out of his shell, and showed more caring than his usual condescending attitude belied. Quatre supposed he had a thing for walking contradictions.

Quatre began to mellow out as he gazed upon WuFei's face. WuFei looked as though he were nothing but a beefy jock with more brawn than brains. But, once Quatre looked into WuFei's eyes Quatre knew the man was sharp. Much more than a body to ogle although, sometimes Quatre did forget himself. WuFei was broad and stocky when compared to the clerk's height. Why was Quatre comparing the two anyways?

Quickly, Quatre pulled his eyes up to meet WuFei's confused ones. Then he went scarlet.

"Oh my goodness!" Quatre let his guard down and let his mouth open and close in shock, "I—I don't know what's wrong today. I've been blacking out and just…I didn't realize I was home I'm so sorry."

WuFei snorted, "I suppose I was on your mind. You were late. I was about to look for you as you weren't answering your cell."

Faster than light Quatre whipped out his cell. 5 missed calls. Quatre's face crumpled, "I'm so sorry. I feel awful. Today has—today has just been the worst day and…I'm so sorry."

WuFei was alarmed; Quatre did not lose his composure often. With a firm but gentle hand, WuFei guided Quatre to sit on the floor in front of the couch. Quickly, WuFei grabbed Quatre a plate of food and set it before Quatre.

"Oh, WuFei, you cooked! You're so thoughtful and I just. It was my night to cook wasn't it." Quatre began and tried to turn around to face WuFei.

WuFei kept a firm hand on Quatre's back and prevented the slight blond boy from facing him. In a gruff voice, "It's nothing. Eat and tell me what happened. I'll rub your back." WuFei knew Quatre would listen. Quatre always listened to almost anyone when he got like this. The usually aloof an independent blonde turned to mush.

As Quatre ate, WuFei rubbed his back and relaxed him. The blonde slowly but, surely began to open up, all the while apologizing for whining. He started with Dr. Laerte and finished with the stranger. When Quatre had mentioned the stranger his back had stiffened again and WuFei worked out the worried knots. WuFei had made all the right hums in all the right places but when the stranger was brought up WuFei had felt uncomfortable.

The Chinese boy dropped his hand as Quatre closed with, "I wish I didn't infuriate such handsome people…WuFei?"

Quatre turned around and met WuFei's eyes. It was on the tip of his tongue to thank WuFei for listening and for the wonderful massage. However, when aqua eyes met midnight, Quatre's mouth dried completely. WuFei was looking at him so intensely and Quatre's blood roared in his own ears. During the massage it would have been so easy if WuFei had slid his hands down Quatre's chest. For a moment or for an eternity Quatre lost himself in the fantasy of WuFei's hands caressing his body. While in the fantasy, Quatre's eyes had dropped to WuFei's lips and he had leaned in. He felt WuFei's hot breath which broke him out of his reverie.

Ashamed, Quatre turned away, "Ah. WuFei, thank you for everything."

"Go to sleep, Winner," WuFei pushed out, "you're tired." WuFei was hot all over. For a moment when their eyes had met, WuFei had hoped for more. WuFei couldn't believe he was prepared to take advantage of a friend. Quatre had just seemed so inviting. Letting out a silent breath of frustration Wufei watched Quatre go to sleep. What he didn't know was that tonight, Quatre would be dreaming of green eyes and WuFei's strong hands.

End

Please R&R :)