~ PROLOGUE~

It was the strangest thing, when Trowa realized that he was in love with Quatre.

He had already decided, weeks ago, that he was going to infiltrate OZ. Everything had been planned to the last minute detail. Where he would register, where he would start basic, who might be his commanding officer. Everything. OZ had to go down and this was his only chance to make that happen. Nothing could change his plans.

But now, the temptations to blow it all off was eating at the back of his mind; slowly gnawing at his resolve. It wasn't until today that he'd allowed himself the privilege of fantasizing about staying with Quatre and now he couldn't get the thoughts out of his mind. He had something-no, someone to lose now.

If he didn't leave tonight, he might change his mind; and that was unacceptable, which meant that things were going to get complicated, especially if he carried out his next plan; to tell Quatre how he felt. Never in his life, had he understood the need for confessions. Why tell someone something that won't change anything about the situation? It was silly and unnecessary. But now he knew why and he was—for the first time in his life—hurting with the need to speak.

Quatre wouldn't feel the same. Trowa knew. Who could love an emotionless, no-name jerk like him? Also, Quatre was an expressive person and Trowa was certain that if the blonde had felt the same about him there would have been some indication. Trowa was good at reading others' emotions and he could read Quatre better than anybody. But, he still had to tell him. Logic had nothing to do with it.

"Would you like another glass?"

"Of course!" Duo Maxwell exclaimed as he held out his expensive crystal wine glass. Together they were all staying in an abandoned cabin in the woods—a safe-house on Earth in the middle of nowhere. Just for a few days though, until they all went to their next mission.

Trowa narrowed his eyes and glared at the braided boy as Quatre poured him yet another glass of wine. Why wouldn't Maxwell just go away? Heero had already retreated to his bedroom and Trowa was shocked that Duo hadn't left immediately to go and bother him. The boy had been at Heero's side nonstop since their arrival two days ago.

"So, how are things? With... you know?" Quatre asked.

"Well..." Duo stared at the dying fire, a far off look in his eyes.

"Not so good?" The sympathy in Quatre's eyes was overflowing.

"I'm not really sure." Duo's eyes flicked to Trowa's and Trowa held his gaze. He knew the boy wouldn't open up right now; not in front of him. He wasn't supposed to know what they were talking about, but he did. Duo was in love with Heero; and Heero was oblivious. Or at least, pretended he was oblivious. How he knew that, Trowa couldn't explain. It was just obvious to him.

"Well," Quatre turned to look at Trowa, as if he'd forgotten the boy's presence. Trowa was used to that confused, ditsy look and he really wished the blonde would look at him with different eyes.

"I'm sure we can talk about it tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure." Duo sighed and downed the rest of his drink.

Finally.

"I guess I'll go to bed now. We gotta get up early." Duo set his glass on the wooden coffee table and tossed the wool blanket resting on his lap onto the floor. Quatre stared at his half-empty glass of wine and then at Trowa.

"Maybe I should retire too."

Trowa shrugged and took a sip of his wine, making it obvious that he wasn't planning on ending the night quite yet. Sitting beside Quatre, sharing a wool blanket across from the fireplace was a perfect situation for what he knew he needed to do. It was the perfect setup, if Maxwell would just hurry up and leave.

"Welp." Duo sighed and stretched, "See you guys in the morning. Don't party too hard." and he was gone. For a moment, all Trowa could hear was the crackle of the fire.

"So how are you?" Trowa asked. It sounded cheesy coming out of his own mouth—but he had no idea how to start a confession. How in the hell am I going to do this? Quatre didn't seem to think the question odd, though.

"I'm alright. Just nervous I guess."

Trowa watched the blonde, but Quatre's eyes were locked on his wineglass and he seemed to slip into another world within his mind. Most likely, he was dying with nerves about everyone else's missions tomorrow because that was how he was; he worried about everything. Trowa had everyone under the impression that he was headed out to fight a platoon in Australia. Of course, he was actually headed to L1 to join OZ as a colonist—but he couldn't tell them that. Quatre was headed to L4 for some political maneuvering with his father and honestly Trowa had no idea where Heero and Duo were headed. He hadn't cared enough to ask.

"Don't be nervous." Was all Trowa could think to say.

"I'm always worried about you guys before a mission."

"Well, don't be. I can handle myself and Duo and Heero are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves too."

"I know. But anything could go wrong."

Trowa was quiet. It was true, he wasn't going to argue. But, mostly his mind was reeling with thoughts on how to switch the conversation in his intended direction. Quatre turned to look at him, his eyes glistening in the fire light.

"You never worry, do you?" He said it like it was a fact of life.

"I do." Trowa said.

"What do you worry about?"

"Lots of things."

Quatre turned his head to the side, waiting for an explanation. Finally he prompted, "Liiiike?"

"Like..." Trowa didn't know how to start it. Should he just come out and say it? It seemed wrong, to confess like that. So tactless. So sudden. But what else could he do? Quatre was waiting.

"Like... what you'll think."

"What I'll think?" Quatre frowned, "About what?" Trowa shrugged and set his wine on the coffee table. He reached over and took Quatre's glass out of his hand and set it down in an attemp to get Quatre's full attention. But, he didn't need to try anymore, he already had it and it was freaking him out. His mind was a blank. Finally he turned to stare into Quatre's eyes.

They were so blue. So expectant. And Trowa didn't know what to say. I like you—no, I love you. It just sounded so simple. Those words were too small to express his feelings. They didn't do his feeling justice. Quatre had a concerned look in his eyes now.

"Is everything alright?"

"I... don't know."

"Well, tell me. You can tell me anything."

Trowa couldn't say it; he'd never been good with words and this was no exception. Sighing, he stared into Quatre's eyes and felt as his heart speed up. More than anything, he wanted to be close to Quatre and he was terrified this might push the boy away. But, for once, he had to express himself; even though he knew the risks.

Slowly, he reached out and ran his hand through Quatre's hair, resting it at the back of the boy's head. Before Quatre could register what was happening, Trowa leaned in and caught the boy's lips in his. The kiss lasted an entire three seconds before Quatre stiffened and pulled away, his eyes wide with shock.

"Trowa—I—"

Trowa had nothing to say. The kiss had said it all and now all he could do was wait.

"I don't know what to say."

Trowa didn't know what to say either. Maybe this hadn't been the best way to express himself. But it was done and over with—now he just had to hope.

"I..." Quatre looked shaken, "I didn't know you felt like this..."

Silence.

Quatre stared down at his hands for a moment and finally opened his mouth to speak, "I've never thought of us like that..."

Trowa's heart broke in two and suddenly he didn't want to be here anymore. Of course he'd expected things to go like this. But he hadn't been prepared for how it might make him feel. Which was horrible; and he wanted to leave—now. A lump caught in his throat and he couldn't swallow.

"I'm sorry." Quatre whispered, a shaking in his voice like he might cry. Trowa felt like he could cry, too. So he just nodded and attempted to appear understanding. Certainly his mask was cold and emotionless as always—but Quatre had to have some idea as to how hurt he was right now. How could he not? Before the blonde could say another word, Trowa stood up, pulled on his coat, and headed for the door. No need to sleep—he could head out right now.

"Trowa." Quatre said.

Trowa stopped by the door and turned to face him.

"Where are you going?"

"I have a mission." Trowa managed to say around the welling pain in his chest. His heart felt like it was burning the inside of his chest with acid. To say the least, it hurt like hell. Quatre seemed pained,

"You have to leave tonight?" Trowa tried to speak, but he realized he had no idea what he wanted to say. So he just nodded. A silence filled the air. It felt like forever before Quatre spoke.

"Please be careful." Trowa turned and headed out the door—closing it as gently as he could behind him, fighting the urge to slam it. Long ago, he'd learned to keep his composure no matter what. It was habit now. As he walked down the steps he exhaled loudly and watched his frozen breath float into the night sky. Slowly, he dragged his feet down the trail to his jeep. Over and over he replayed the kiss in his mind. Maybe he should have just spoken? But, would that really have changed anything? Quatre had said exactly what Trowa had already known to be true.

"I've never thought of us like that..." Of course things had turned out this way. Everything had gone exactly as he'd predicted. So why in the hell was he so upset?