A/N: This is not my fault. I didn't want to write. I absolutely do NOT want to write a fic with Quatre Winner as the main character but… I have to.

I figure, I might as well enjoy this and take this opportunity to use all those cliche romantic moments that I can't really work into most of the things I write. So… be warned about those too.

Warnings: Language, angst (I mean, duh), sexy times and sexy words

Pairings: past 3x4, 2x3, 1x4

After Happily Ever After

Chapter Four

"What are you going to wear?"

Quatre sighed and looked up.

Relena stood in the doorway of his office. She looked at his desk, an eyebrow raised as she looked at his open laptop.

Unlike the last time she had interrupted him, however, Quatre had been buried in paperwork and not writing porn.

Quatre sighed and saved his files.

"Does it matter?"

Relena gaped at him.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. Does it even matter. It's just - "

"It's just your first date with a totally hot guy! Where is he taking you?"

Quatre knew he shouldn't have told Relena that Heero had called him. He had known it would result it this, but at the same time… he'd wanted to talk to someone about it. About his unease with the very idea of dating. Relena's version of 'comfort' had involved her crossing her arms and telling him to either pick out a wedding ring for his right hand or put himself out there if he didn't want to spend the rest of his life getting himself off.

"Lac Lune," Quatre confessed when her glare didn't relent.

"Nice. Fancy but kind of casual...do you still have those gray trousers that look like they're painted on? The ones Trowa didn't like you to wear out in public?"

Quatre frowned at the memories her words inspired. Iria, his oldest sister closest in age, liked to buy Quatre designer clothes when she travelled and had sent him the gray silk-wool blend trousers last year while in Paris. Each time Quatre put them on to go out, however, Trowa made him take them off - well, most of the time it was Trowa who took them off, peeling them down his thighs and sucking his cock and caressing his ass and insisting that they were too obscene, that no one else got to see just how perfect Quatre's ass was except for him.

"Yes," Quatre finally said, forcing himself not to think of Trowa, of the way his green eyes would narrow and his lips would tilt upwards.

"Hmmm. Do you have any v-neck sweaters? Oh - what about that teal one? It really brings out your eyes."

Quatre sighed. This felt ridiculous.

"Relena."

"Quatre. Do you want to get fucked or not?"

He blinked at her.

"I'm not going to have sex with him on our first date!"

Relena smirked and straightened up.

"Oh, so you like him?"

"What?"

"If you didn't like him you'd just blush and say something about me being annoying - but you like him and you don't want this to be a one night stand."

Quatre closed his eyes and forced himself to draw in several deep breaths.

"Relena. It's just a date. He might not even be that interested in me."

"If I ever see Trowa Barton again - or that trashy bastard he ran off with - I'm going to punch him. Do you seriously not understand how awesome and how hot you are?"

Quatre frowned.

He knew, intellectually, that he was attractive. He saw guys - and a few girls - check him out at the grocery store, at the mall, at the gym - but that wasn't what worried him.

"Trowa and I were together for six years and he left me for some - trashy bastard. I get that I'm attractive, Relena, but if someone could love me for that long and leave me - like that - how am I supposed to just… try all of this again?"

Relena sighed and walked into the office. She wrapped her arms around Quatre and he leaned against her.

"Oh, Quatre. I'm going to punch them so hard."

He had to laugh at that. Relena was the girl who didn't even like to kill bugs. Picturing her trying to punch either Trowa or his trashy bastard was a bit of a stretch.

"Now. It's almost six - you need to get out of here and get ready. I promise I won't let the store burn down tonight."

Quatre nodded and stood up.

Rashid eagerly jumped up and wagged his tail.

Relena laughed.

"How is this poor guy going to handle it? Home alone while you're out having fun?"

Quatre rolled his eyes and scratched Rashid's ears.

"He'll be fine. I won't even be out that late."

He debated whether or not to take Relena's fashion advice, but in the end, he wore the gray trousers and the teal v-neck sweater and when Heero's blue eyes locked onto him at the restaurant Quatre was glad that he had.

Heero's lips curved upward slightly into a sexy smirk that made Quatre blush.

"It's good to see you," Heero said, and his tone his blue eyes turned the pleasantry into something more.

"You too," Quatre said. "You look great." And he did - black trousers and a dark blue button up shirt, the top button undone to reveal a tantalizing triangle of pale golden skin.

"Thank you," Heero said and he sounded sincere, as though he wasn't used to compliments on his appearance. "Shall we?" He gestured to the hostess and Quatre nodded.

Their table was in the corner, the lighting low and romantic and Quatre tried not to be nervous, tried not to compare this to the romantic dinners he and Trowa had had over the years.

A waiter came by for their drink orders.

"Do you want to split a bottle of wine?" Quatre asked Heero.

He shook his head in the negative.

"Just water for me."

"Oh." Quatre wondered if he didn't drink - wondered if it was a religious thing or maybe he was a recovering alcoholic or -

"I'm on call tonight," Heero added. "But please - you should have wine."

"Can I have a glass of the Syrah? And water as well."

The waiter nodded and left.

"On call?"

"I'm a surgeon," Heero said.

"What kind of surgeon?" Quatre had to ask.

"A trauma surgeon - I'm actually a surgical fellow at the hospital."

Quatre nodded and fought against the mental image of Heero in scrubs. He had to look ridiculously sexy in scrubs. And a lab coat…

"That's amazing," Quatre had to say.

Heero looked uncomfortable with the praise.

"I'm sure owning a bookstore is very interesting," he said and Quatre had to laugh.

"Not as interesting as saving lives!"

"Still. Do you love it?"

Quatre had to nod enthusiastically and Heero smiled.

"Then it's perfect for you."

Quatre smiled back at him.

"So, when you aren't saving lives, what do you do?"

"Sleep," Heero admitted and then he shook his head. "Sorry - I'm not very interesting. We work long shifts at the hospital and," he shrugged, "I'm not very social."

Quatre nodded.

"I can imagine - the long hours part," he hastily added. "You seem perfectly social to me."

Heero smiled slightly.

"I think that's more your doing than anything else."

Quatre felt himself blush and immediately felt like an idiotic teenage girl. Was he going to blush every time Heero said something nice to him?

The waiter came back with their waters and Quatre's wine. He took their orders and once again left them alone.

"Why did you become a surgeon?" Quatre asked.

Heero frowned slightly and Quatre could sense he had asked a sensitive question.

"Sorry," he apologized. "You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's fine," Heero said. He shrugged. "I'd tell you eventually anyway, I suppose." He drew in a deep breath. "When I was younger I was in a car accident. My parents died but I lived - I lived because of a heart transplant. The doctor who operated on my mother - he waited for me to wake up and he begged me to forgive him. He said he had done everything he could but he hadn't been able to save her." Heero shook his head. "He was the bravest man I'd ever met - to admit that kind of defeat to a child. I admired him, and I wanted to try to help… to try to keep other children from losing their parents."

Quatre swallowed hard, unsure what to say after such a heartfelt admission.

"Sorry," Heero sighed. "I'm too honest - or so I've been told."

"No, too honest is good," Quatre assured him. "I like too honest."

One corner of Heero's mouth tipped upwards and Quatre smiled back at him.

The rest of dinner was comfortable. Heero wasn't chatty, but he answered Quatre's questions about himself and even asked Quatre about his bookstore and his dog, keeping the conversation innocuous.

It was January, and as they walked towards their cars in the parking lot after dinner it started to snow.

"I had a great time tonight," Quatre said as they stopped at his car.

Heero nodded in agreement.

"I did too."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Quatre asked.

"Working most nights," Heero said with a sigh.

Quatre wondered if he was trying to politely avoid going back out with him.

"Lunch?" Heero offered and Quatre smiled.

"I like lunch." He immediately felt like a moron, but Heero chuckled.

"So do I."

They stared at each other for a moment. Quatre wondered if he should kiss Heero - or if Heero would rather make the first move - or if this was even the right time?

A snowflake landed on Heero's nose and they both reached up to brush it away.

Their fingers tangled together and Heero shifted his hand away from his face, still holding onto Quatre's hand, and pulled him close.

"Do you mind?" Heero asked.

Quatre shook his head. Did he mind if Heero kissed him? That was like asking if he minded breathing. Unless that wasn't actually what Heero was asking? What if -

Heero's lips were warm and firm and he lightly brushed them against Quatre's mouth.

Quatre shivered, from the cold, from the spark of arousal he felt that teasing touch, and he leaned in, kissing Heero back, pressing his lips firmly against the other man's.

Heero used his free hand to cradle Quatre's skull, threading his fingers through his hair and angling his head back slightly.

Quatre opened his mouth, eager to taste Heero, and Heero obliged, his tongue slightly hesitant until Quatre met it with his own.

When they finally pulled apart they were both breathing hard and their faces were flushed with arousal and the cold night air.

They stared at each other.

"I should go," Quatre eventually said, though he was reluctant to leave.

Heero nodded.

"Me too. I - I'll call you? For lunch?"

Quatre smiled.

"Yes. That sounds perfect."

Heero smiled back and Quatre kissed him again, unable to resist the temptation to feel his lips one last time.