Category: Yaoi, AU, Gundam Wing
Pairings: 3+4/4+3, will be 3x4, maybe others
Warnings: slight angst, reference to violence, sap, shonen ai
Author: Arigatomina
Email: arigatoumina@hotmail.com
Complete Archive: www.fanfiction.net
Left Behind
Part 2
Catherine glanced up from where she sat before the short table, and she raised an eyebrow at Trowa. The boy stared at her for a second, and his lips curled in a tiny smile that made her grin widely and turn to the blonde who sat on the floor across from her. He had been silent since she'd brought him into the cottage, but he had looked up when the door opened, and his expression was heartwarming as he seemed very happy to see Trowa.
"Quatre," she said, still smiling, "Welcome to the family."
The blonde boy looked at her, not sure what to make of her comment. She'd introduced herself when Trowa had left, but he'd heard of her a few times as the boy had spoken of his older sister. Then Quatre looked up as Trowa moved to stand next to him, and he accepted the tall boy's hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet.
Drawing the slender boy into his room, Trowa gazed down at him, taking in how pale his face was. Quatre'd had a traumatic night, and he wasn't sure what to say to him. With a gentle hand, he turned the blonde and moved him so he sat on the edge of the bed, Quatre's dull eyes blinking at him. He crouched in front of the boy and gave what he hoped was a comforting expression. "Quatre," he said softly, "You're going to stay with me now."
"Live with you?" The thought made him frown, and Quatre dropped his eyes, thinking about the tall boy's words. In truth, he didn't really know anything about Trowa's people except that they had rules that were made by a group of elders. Even this, he'd only heard mention of. Still, if they were anything like his own people, he could imagine how badly they would take Trowa's bringing an outsider into their home. "Is my presence...going to make you an outcast, Trowa? I wouldn't want that."
He knew what the boy was worried about, and he almost smiled at the thought of his clan not welcoming the sweet boy with open arms. "Nothing like that. We may not relate to the colonists, Quatre, but you're different from them. And I know everyone will like you."
"Why would they?" Quatre asked, frowning at the warm glint in those green eyes. He felt as if Trowa was hiding something from him, but that thought was dismissed quickly when a hand brushed his cheek and he smiled in spite of his worries.
"Because you're sweet," Trowa murmured. His voice sounded calm, but his heart was nearly racing at the way Quatre turned his face just a bit, turning into the touch. It had been bold of him, and if he'd thought before-hand he probably wouldn't have touched him. But the blonde boy didn't seem to mind, and his fingers curled around a bit of soft hair. "And you're a kind person. My people will understand why you're here, you'll be welcome here."
"Because of what happened..."
Quatre turned his face away, and Trowa sighed, his hand dropping to the boy's shoulder, noticing that he flinched away. "You're hurt."
Turning, Quatre winced from the boy's reproachful gaze. He shook his head before dropping his eyes again. "It's nothing. Just some bruises..." He knew how much his being hurt angered Trowa, and he didn't want the boy angry now. His mind was quick enough to provide him with pain-filled thoughts, his friend's anger wasn't needed.
"Let me see," Trowa said, keeping his voice soft. The plural hadn't been lost on him, and he was careful to reign in his fury. He'd known the boy since they were both young, and he knew that the abuse hadn't started with the man's injury. There had been instances in the past when Quatre had come to him with bruises, and he still hadn't grown accustomed to the thought. But the boy never talked about it, and Trowa imagined he wouldn't want to now. "I have some cream I'd like to put on, if you'll let me." Quatre looked up, and he gave the boy a tentative gaze that didn't go with what he was feeling. "You aren't afraid of me, are you?"
"No! I...well, it's embarrassing," Quatre admitted. The tall boy leaned back, giving him room as he undid the straps holding his dark shirt together. Refusing wasn't an option at all, and he was warmed by the knowledge that Trowa wanted to help him. There was comfort knowing his friend despised his pain. He dropped his eyes once he'd removed the shirt, not wanting to see Trowa's reaction as he usually hid the bruises as well as he could. He felt vulnerable with them revealed.
The boy was so pale that the purplish-gray splotches looked worse than they were, but Trowa's teeth clenched as he looked at them. He didn't let his gaze rest long, however, as he could tell his silence had Quatre nervous. Reminding himself that they mostly lay on the boy's arms and that as injuries they were very minor, he managed to rid himself of some of the protective outrage. He stood slowly, and stepped to the shelf lining one wall of the small room, his hands passing over various jars before gripping one lightly. "Catherine mixed this," he murmured, giving a soft smile when the boy looked at him.
"Really? Do all the women know how?" Quatre relaxed at Trowa's nod, and he managed to hold still when the tall boy climbed onto the bed behind him. Then he blinked in surprise as very gentle hands touched him. The callouses felt rough, but they didn't press hard at all, and he smiled, ducking his head.
"You're soft." The blonde boy turned to look back at him, and Trowa smirked at the confusion. He obviously seemed to take the comment as some sort of insult. "Your skin, it's soft and smooth. Delicate."
Blushing, Quatre gave a small laugh and turned away, shaking his head at the boy's compliment. "You're so nice to me, Trowa. You're always so nice. I've never met anyone who treats me like you do." His smile faded a bit, but he sighed with something kin to content as the boy's warm hands rubbed over his arms, the cream smoothing out so he couldn't feel it.
"Quatre...that's because I care about you."
Trowa's gaze was solemn when he turned, and Quatre gave a smile, shaking his head again. "You're my friend," he said, his own voice just as solemn.
The word bothered him, somehow, but Trowa nodded. He was the boy's friend, but his feelings were much more than that. Still, he knew he'd have to move slowly if he didn't want to overwelm the boy. It wasn't as if he could just come out and tell him that they were mates now, he was sure Quatre would have a difficult time if the news were sprung on him that quickly. But these were thoughts he'd already entertained, and he pushed them aside as he realized the boy he'd wanted for so long was there with him. "Are you tired, Quatre?"
He sighed, nodding quickly. "Yes. I feel like I could curl up somewhere and just sleep for days." It was partially true, he did want to collapse in a secluded spot, but his nerves were still tense, and he imagined he wouldn't be sleeping very well. "Is this your room?" Quatre asked. He remembered that the building hadn't been very large, and he doubted if there were any extra rooms.
"Yes," Trowa said slowly. "There's room for both of us." The blonde frowned, and he wondered if the very thought of sharing a bed with him was enough to bother the boy. If so, then their future would be a very difficult one.
"I could sleep on the floor, I don't mind." It was kind of the boy to offer to share, but he'd slept on the floor before. Then he blinked at Trowa as his friend stared at him, expression unreadable. He had the sudden impression that he'd said something wrong.
"No," Trowa said sharply. "Does the thought of me touching you bother you, Quatre?" The boy looked surprised, but he had to ask. If so, then he'd sleep on the floor himself.
"Trowa. Of course not. Why would it?" The tall boy seemed to relax, and Quatre laid a hand on his arm, tilting his head a bit as he looked at him. "I just don't want you to be...put out. I mean, it's your home. It's kind of you to offer to share your bed, but you don't have to."
"I want to," Trowa admitted softly, his eyes shining as he ran a hand over the slender boy's arm. Quatre didn't seem at all bothered by it, and his lips twitched. He bent, moving his legs over the bed as he pulled off his shoes, and he was relieved when the boy beside him did likewise. Taking them, he set them at the foot of the bed, his heart racing when Quatre stood easily. Then he pulled back the cover and waited.
He wasn't sure why Trowa didn't get into the bed, but he thought that maybe he wanted to be near the door. It didn't make any difference to him, and he stepped forward, climbing in himself. His friend seemed to be acting odd to him, but Quatre reminded himself that he'd never seen the boy in his own home. Trowa joined him, and he smiled when the cover was pulled up slightly.
"Can I..." Trowa sighed, knowing his hesitation was going to make the boy wonder. But he couldn't help it. As far as physical contact went, they'd shared an occasional hug, and that was all. He felt a need and a desire to touch the boy, and he wanted Quatre to get used to it, wanted him to like it as well. "Can I hold you?"
Trowa sounded so tentative, and Quatre couldn't think if he'd ever heard that tone from him. But the question was an easy one to answer and he scooted towards the boy, smiling when strong arms wrapped around his back. It had been awkward lying on the small bed with so much space between them, and Trowa's arms were comforting. The boy didn't speak, and Quatre ducked his head, letting it rest on Trowa's shoulder as he closed his eyes.
Trowa was thinking about Quatre's smile, and the fact that the boy had moved into his arms easily. He could barely feel the soft breath that reached his neck, and he wished he'd taken off his shirt, one of his hands being pressed to soft skin beneath the blanket. Moving slowly, he let his arm curve upwards, his fingers brushing Quatre's thick hair. It was dark in the room, but he could imagine the color, pale gold. The boy had beautiful hair, and Trowa sighed, his fingers curling around the strands.
"I had a dream like this once..."
Trowa blinked at the soft whisper. He'd thought the boy asleep, and he wondered what Quatre thought of his hand resting on his head. Then the boy spoke again.
"I was so sad and alone and then...you were there, Trowa." With his eyes closed, he could feel the boy's head lift, but he didn't look up at him, not wanting to break the embrace as he moved an arm over the tall boy's waist. "And you hugged me, like this, so warm. It was the most wonderful dream I ever had..."
His heart was soaring, and he couldn't bring it back down. He knew the boy cared about him, Quatre seemed to care about everyone though. The thought of the blonde dreaming about him was enough to make his breath speed up. "You never said you dreamt of me."
"It was just a dream," Quatre whispered. He was unsure, the boy's voice had sounded strange to him. "You really are the only friend I've ever had, the only one who ever seemed to care about me. I know I take it for granted, but I do thank you, Trowa."
The word was grating on his ears, and he was tempted to tell the boy he wasn't his 'friend.' But he couldn't do that, not when that soft voice had been so sincere. Pushing onto an elbow, he nudged Quatre's chin up so he could look at the boy. Then, he slowly leaned down and brushed his lips over Quatre's in the lightist of carresses. "I do care, Quatre. But please, don't thank me for caring about you." He didn't want the boy's gratitude, he wanted him to return the feeling. "Sleep now." The blonde boy gave him a small smile and nodded. Pulling him close again, he let himself sleep as well.
* * *
He was so beautiful, his face relaxed as he slept, and Trowa's gaze was centered on those parted lips, so soft. They seemed to beg to be kissed, and his body was warmed by the thought, his own cheeks flushing a bit. It really wasn't like him to be so attracted to someone, but he'd always felt that way toward Quatre. Since he'd reached the age where his body had matured, the boy had been the only one he'd longed for. And now the object of both his affection and his lust lay sleeping in his bed and he wanted nothing more than to kiss him. A real one, not a tempting brush like the one he'd managed the night before, he wanted to taste the boy. He shook his head, sighing at himself as his hand swept Quatre's bangs away from his forehead.
Pale blue green eyes snapped open immediately, and the boy tensed in a reflexive move. Then he blinked as he recognized Trowa and gave a tiny smile, pushing himself up. "Trowa."
"Good morning," Trowa said smoothly, leaning back as he'd been hovering over the boy. Quatre was rubbing at his eyes, and he smiled at how cute the action looked.
"Did I sleep in?" Quatre asked, fighting a yawn. He was worried that he might have. It would be horrible to make a mistake so soon in his life with Trowa's people, but the tall boy was shaking his head and he sighed with relief.
"We aren't late for anything. Are you hungry?" Trowa got off the bed, and he watched as Quatre did the same, his mouth curving into a smirk when the blonde boy immediately made the bed. "I could have done that," he commented, but Quatre shrugged. Then he noticed the boy was leaning over his shirt where it lay, still on the floor where it had been dropped. "Wait." He crossed the room, pulling a long-sleeved shirt out off a shelf. It was white, and clean, but he knew it would be long on the boy. As Quatre accepted it, he reminded himself to find some clothes for the boy since his own would be too big.
Minutes passed before the silence got to him, and Trowa moved to stand in front of the blonde who stood, staring down at his folded arms. "Quatre, what's wrong?"
"I'm a horrible person..."
The soft voice reached him as the boy didn't look up, and Trowa's eyes widened. "What? Of course you're not. Why would you say that?" Moist eyes raised to him, and his throat clenched a bit at Quatre's pitiful expression.
"I...should be mourning my father. But...I just want to forget him! I want to forget what happened...and I shouldn't want that. But I keep thinking about my own future like what happened to him doesn't matter."
The boy looked as if he was about to burst into tears, and Trowa gripped his shoulders in a firm hold. "Forget it," he said sharply. "If it pains you, think of it as a favor to me. It's all right to forget what happened and to live your own life." The words came from his own mind, but he quickly thought of anything that might make the boy feel better. He hated the man who'd hurt him, and just thinking about his death made him glad inside. But he knew this would be a horrible thing to share with the stricken boy. "What happened was better for him, Quatre. It spared him an enormous amount of pain. Remember that."
"He was...in pain," Quatre whispered, his eyes blinking away the dampness that had risen to them. Trowa's warm eyes were comforting, and he held the boy tight as strong arms wrapped around him. Time passed slowly as he let himself be swamped by the embrace, then he forced his eyes to open. "I guess we're probably late now," he said softly, embarrassed by his display of weakness. "Do you cook breakfast?" He almost smiled as Trowa looked surprised, and he released the boy, stepping back. "I don't even know your family," he admitted. "Do you live with them? Or just your sister?"
"My parents died years ago," Trowa said, shaking his head. Quatre's expression was horrified, and he blinked in surprise.
"Oh Trowa...I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
"No, it's all right. It was a long time ago. Now, it's just Catherine and me." The boy still looked guilty, and he took his hand, his fingers curling around it as he tugged Quatre toward the door. "Come on. Catherine loves to cook, and I'm sure she has a huge breakfast waiting for us."
Sure enough, the table was set with a number of platters and Quatre stared at it all, nearly forgetting to greet the red-haired girl who sat before it. The table was short enough that it didn't call for chairs, and Trowa sank down, pulling him till they sat next to each other across from Catherine.
"Well, good morning, you two. Quatre, you have to be the prettiest boy I've ever seen, to look that nice when you first get up." The blonde boy stared at her, and Catherine laughed at the dark blush that reached his cheeks. Trowa was smirking at the boy, and she sighed at the way her brother's eyes centered on him.
* * *
After mere minutes of eating, Quatre sighed and set down the fork. He hadn't recognized many of the things offered, but what he had eaten had been delicious. Still, he'd only been able to eat a small amount, and he could tell from the way the other two ate that his own display seemed picky. "I'm sorry, but I can't eat any more."
"Already?" Catherine asked, looking up in surprise. The boy had barely eaten anything by her estimates, and it was suddenly obvious why he was so slender. "You didn't eat much."
"I know," Quatre said, glancing at his plate. "I'm just not used to having so much offered. I usually don't eat that much."
"Well, I'll just have to fix that. A few weeks eating here and you'll be a new person. Just look at Trowa, he used to be the scrawniest thing. All it takes is good food, I'll fatten you up in no time."
Trowa was used to his sister, and he glanced at Quatre, wondering how the boy was taking being teased. The blonde was looking at him, and Quatre blushed when he turned to meet his gaze. Curious, Trowa was debating on whether or not to ask when Catherine spoke again and he turned to face the girl.
"What are your plans for today?" Catherine asked, leaning forward as she'd pushed her plate to the side.
"Well, I thought I'd take Quatre around, introduce him to people. He should know the others."
Quatre paled at the boy's words, his mind flying. What would they think of him? He was a colonist, after all, and he knew how the colonists felt about Trowa's people. The tall boy had assured him that they would embrace him, but he had trouble believing that. Not that he doubted Trowa, but he had no experience with people who accepted those who were different.
"I'm going to do some hunting later, Quatre could go with me if he wants." The blonde boy's eyes snapped to her, and Catherine gave him a reassuring smile before looking to Trowa. "You promised to help Brenton work on his corral, so Quatre might as well go with me. It's better than being stuck here."
Gazing at the uncertain boy, Trowa wrapped his arm around Quatre's shoulders. "Go ahead. There's no reason for you to be left here by yourself."
Quatre didn't want to disappoint his friend, and he nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, hoping his expression didn't reveal his misgivings. It would be a chance to get to know Trowa's sister, and he wanted the girl to like him. "But, I've never hunted before, so I don't know if I'd be much help."
"You've never hunted?" Catherine asked, her eyes wide. "Then what do you eat?"
"We have gardens, we don't eat meat much. Not that we can't," he added, worried that she might take offense. He didn't want her to think he was insulting their food. "We just don't get it often is all."
"Well, it's no wonder you eat like a rabbit," Catherine said, shaking her head. "Don't you worry, Quatre. I'll teach you to hunt. It's not that hard at all once you learn."
It was nice to see the two of them talking, but Trowa's attention was focused more on the boy beside him. His arm was still resting on Quatre's shoulders, and he was relieved at how comfortable he seemed. He was aware that Quatre had never so much as hinted an attraction for him, but he had hope for them since the boy had yet to repel his touch. What little he knew of the boy's people was lacking in that department, and he worried about how Quatre would feel about their status as mates.
His own people tended to be attracted to either one sex, or both, and they were open and honest about it. There had never been a problem within the clan, as there were enough male and female mates for plenty of children to be born. Teenagers simply declared their feelings when they reached the age, and their declarations were accepted, members of the unchosen sex dismissing them as potential mates. But he knew that the colonists were most likely different and his heart quailed at the thought that Quatre might be attracted to females.
The boy belonged to him in the eyes of the clan, but he knew that he'd never be able to keep him if Quatre asked for release. If the boy were repelled, he would have no choice but to accept it and release his claim, even if it killed him. His thoughts were broken as the object of his perusal turned and smiled at him, and his body seemed infused by a warm melting feeling. Returning the small smile, he brushed the bangs off Quatre's forehead so they couldn't shadow the boy's lovely eyes. He didn't see the penetrating look Catherine was giving them, and the girl's rapt attention went by unnoticed.
* * *
Quatre's mind was filled with all of the faces he'd seen, the names he'd been given that would take forever to get straight. It was amazing to him, but Trowa's prediction had proved to be true. Every person he'd been introduced to had been respectful, even kind to him. The village itself also drew his attention, and he marveled at it. Each family had a separate house, the same as with his own people, but theirs were set on grass rather than dirt. His own home had been built away from the others but he knew the colonists preferred not having weeds surrounding them. Yet Trowa's people had short grass, barely inches tall, and he'd seen sheep and other animals that he didn't recognize. They'd been roaming about the village, just eating as they wished. It amazed him mostly, because the animals he'd seen hadn't defecated at any time, and he couldn't imagine being able to train a creature so well.
Catherine's call made him look up, and he took the hand the girl extended to him, grateful to her help as he climbed up the tree after her. Trowa had taught him to climb, but it wasn't something he did often enough to be good at. The boy had left him earlier, going to help his neighbor with the corral, and Quatre had found himself with Catherine. Despite his worries, it seemed the girl was easy natured, and it wasn't long before he'd found himself fishing. It had ended up easier than he'd imagined as all he'd had to do was wait until he spotted one and then stab it with the spear the girl had given him. The spear itself had been a bit unwieldy at first, but he'd caught the hang of it. Now, Catherine had said she'd show him how to spot the animals they hunted, the bow and arrows she carried the preferred weapons.
The limb he was on supported him easily, and he adopted a stance similar to Catherine's as he crouched. The forest seemed quieter now that he was watching for animals, and minutes passed in silence. Then, he felt as if he were being watched, and he turned slowly, his eyes meeting Catherine's gaze as he found the girl staring at him.
"Are you always so quiet?" Catherine asked gently, her eyes soft. The boy had barely spoken since Trowa had left, and she knew about his past. She imagined that he'd been taught, roughly, not to speak out, and the thought made her want to protect the boy. As it was, her answer was silence as Quatre nodded, and she decided to prod him into talking. "Tell me, Quatre. How do you feel about my brother?"
"He's my friend," Quatre said quickly, nodding sharply. "He's my best friend." He frowned as the girl laughed suddenly, and he blinked in confusion.
"No wonder Trowa looked so worried this morning. You're calling him your friend." The boy was staring at her, his confusion obvious, and she shook her head. "Has Trowa said anything to you about your future?"
"He said I would live with him," Quatre nodded, wondering why his answer wasn't enough as the girl shook her head again.
"That's not what I meant," Catherine said. "Quatre, have you ever been attracted to someone?" The blush that came to those pale cheeks told her no, and the boy seemed shocked that she would ask. "Are you attracted to Trowa?"
"Please," Quatre said sharply. He didn't understand why the girl would say such a thing, and he wondered if she was trying to find fault in him. "Trowa is my only friend..." The girl looked furious, and his eyes widened warily as he wondered what she was angry about. He wondered if he should have kept quiet.
"Trowa's a bloody fool," Catherine muttered, glowering at nothing specific. "I can't believe he didn't tell you. Quatre, Trowa made a claim on you. Do you know what that means?" The boy stared at her with wide eyes, and he shook his head. "That means he has chosen you as his mate." Quatre was still staring at her, and she leaned forward a bit. "It means no one else may touch you, sexually, without Trowa's permission. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Quatre shook his head, horrified that Trowa's sister would try to fill him with such lies. He knew the boy, knew him well enough that he trusted him completely, and he'd never believe what she was saying. He didn't want to argue with her, didn't want her to hate him, but for her to say that Trowa would let people have sex with him was going too far. "Trowa wouldn't do that," he said, his voice dropping as his anger grew. "He would *never* let people hurt me. He doesn't like it when I'm hurt. He cares about me..."
"No..." She closed her eyes, feeling like the biggest fool in the world, and she knew she'd only managed to confuse the boy even more. Worse, she'd also angered him and she wanted them to be friends. "Quatre, you've misunderstood. By claiming you, Trowa has made you his mate. His alone. It means that no one but him may touch you, and the same for you. Trowa is your mate, so no one can touch him either." The boy was blinking slowly, and she held her breath, hoping he'd gotten what she was saying.
"You mean...are we...married then?"
Catherine bit her lip lightly, her eyes narrowing. "I don't know what that means," she muttered, wishing she did. "But as mates, you'll stay together unless one of you proves to be a bad mate." Her voice trailed off as she knew she shouldn't have said anything. She couldn't help but curse Trowa for not having explained it to the boy the night before, but she simply couldn't let Quatre be taken as a mate without knowing what it meant. It wasn't fair to the boy, and it could lead to heartache.
Quatre was staring at the ground below him. He was stuck on the thought that Trowa had decided this, meaning Trowa wanted him as a mate. It sounded like marriage to him, but the marriages he'd seen involved men and women, never two boys. And as mates, they'd have sex. This was driving him crazy, as he'd only heard the word in passing and then, too, it had been related to a man and woman who'd been married. It was confusing to him, and he wondered how two men could mate, have sex. But then, he didn't know what the word and act were, so he found no answers. Then, his suddenly slow mind shoved away thoughts about the unknown as he focused on what the girl had said last.
He and Trowa would stay together unless one of them proved to be a bad mate. It was impossible not to worry, even though he knew Trowa cared about him. There was no way the boy would hurt him. Still, if he was a bad mate, he'd have to leave, and the thought hurt more than any physical pain could. He didn't even know what made a person a good or bad mate, and he wondered if it wasn't the sex thing again. It was so confusing, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head at how lost he was in it all.
Seeing the boy's stricken expression, Catherine wanted to slap herself, hard. She knew Trowa would kill her when he found out what she'd done, and she realized it wasn't her place to tell Quatre. But she couldn't help it, it was *wrong* to take him without telling him first and he had a right to know. She still wanted to crawl off and find a rock somewhere to hide under in the hopes that the blonde boy would forget what she'd said. "Quatre, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No," Quatre whispered, looking at her with dull eyes. "I thank you for telling me. I...need to think now." With a clumsiness that was odd, even for him, he slipped out of the tree. Then he walked away, aiming for the river they'd fished in earlier.
A minute passed as Catherine stared after the boy, her mind frozen on how he'd swayed with each step. Then she shook herself roughly, jumping from the tree. Straightening her back, she steeled herself for what was to come as she knew she had to tell Trowa what she'd done.
* * *
Trowa walked very quickly, his legs not hampered by the fear that clenched around his heart. He was furious at Catherine, but the girl had been so obviously torn up about her mistake that he couldn't even yell at her. Now, he was terrified at what would happen if Quatre was repulsed by what she'd told him. He'd thought to move slowly, get the boy accustomed to being touched by him and hopefully get him to like it. Now, his plans were thrown as Quatre was warned, the suddenness no doubt a shock to him. Then he halted as he spotted the boy.
He was sitting at the edge of the river, his legs drawn up. Trowa stared, hating how vulnerable the boy looked, and he suddenly didn't care if his own heart was about to be ripped as he stepped forward quickly. Within seconds, he was at the boy's side, and he drew Quatre to him, hugging the slender frame.
Quatre flinched as strong arms suddenly caught him, then he gasped, realizing who it was. His arms moved slowly, but he returned the hug, pressing his face to Trowa's chest and swallowing sharply. "I'll be a good mate," he promised, his whisper soft. "I'll do whatever you want if I can stay with you, Trowa." He was the only one who cared about him, and Quatre didn't want to think what would happen if he lost him. He'd have no where to go, he'd have nothing if he lost his only friend. It was true what he'd said, he'd do whatever it took. If Trowa wanted him as a mate, meaning sex, then he'd do it. He wasn't afraid, after all, since he knew Trowa would never hurt him, so it couldn't be bad.
His eyes closed in pain, and Trowa felt horrible, hearing those adamant words. "Quatre...being a mate isn't the same as being a slave. I'd never make you do *anything* you didn't want to do...I swear."
Tilting his head back, Quatre actually managed a small smile, and he blushed a little. "I know that, Trowa. You care about me." The words, the fact, the constant reminder had served to keep him going for years, and he still used it. Just knowing that made him feel confidence. "What I want to do is stay with you. For as long as I can."
Trowa stared down at the boy, his mind awash at how beautiful he was even as his heart soared at Quatre's words. His muscles tensed as he suddenly made up his mind; he'd find out now if they had a future. Pulling the boy even closer, he lowered his head, his mouth moving over Quatre's gently. The boy didn't push him away, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing past those sweet lips as he finally tasted him. As the boy still didn't fight him, he let himself fall into the kiss, and his hands moved over Quatre's back, pressing the boy against him.
It was oxygen that brought him back, the lack of it, and Trowa opened his eyes slowly, staring at the boy he held. Quatre was limp against him, and the boy's mouth was open as he breathed quickly, his eyes closed. He swallowed painfully, then forced his voice to work. "Quatre...? Did you...feel anything?"
Blinking hazily, Quatre looked up at him, his eyes very wide. "Trowa. That was...wonderful. I never imagined that, I didn't know..." He was caught off guard, but he still smiled when Trowa suddenly laughed, the boy's expression so different from any he'd seen on him. Then he was being hugged again, and he pressed his cheek to Trowa's chest, his arms slipping around the tall boy's waist as he sighed in utter contentment.
TBC
Pairings: 3+4/4+3, will be 3x4, maybe others
Warnings: slight angst, reference to violence, sap, shonen ai
Author: Arigatomina
Email: arigatoumina@hotmail.com
Complete Archive: www.fanfiction.net
Left Behind
Part 2
Catherine glanced up from where she sat before the short table, and she raised an eyebrow at Trowa. The boy stared at her for a second, and his lips curled in a tiny smile that made her grin widely and turn to the blonde who sat on the floor across from her. He had been silent since she'd brought him into the cottage, but he had looked up when the door opened, and his expression was heartwarming as he seemed very happy to see Trowa.
"Quatre," she said, still smiling, "Welcome to the family."
The blonde boy looked at her, not sure what to make of her comment. She'd introduced herself when Trowa had left, but he'd heard of her a few times as the boy had spoken of his older sister. Then Quatre looked up as Trowa moved to stand next to him, and he accepted the tall boy's hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet.
Drawing the slender boy into his room, Trowa gazed down at him, taking in how pale his face was. Quatre'd had a traumatic night, and he wasn't sure what to say to him. With a gentle hand, he turned the blonde and moved him so he sat on the edge of the bed, Quatre's dull eyes blinking at him. He crouched in front of the boy and gave what he hoped was a comforting expression. "Quatre," he said softly, "You're going to stay with me now."
"Live with you?" The thought made him frown, and Quatre dropped his eyes, thinking about the tall boy's words. In truth, he didn't really know anything about Trowa's people except that they had rules that were made by a group of elders. Even this, he'd only heard mention of. Still, if they were anything like his own people, he could imagine how badly they would take Trowa's bringing an outsider into their home. "Is my presence...going to make you an outcast, Trowa? I wouldn't want that."
He knew what the boy was worried about, and he almost smiled at the thought of his clan not welcoming the sweet boy with open arms. "Nothing like that. We may not relate to the colonists, Quatre, but you're different from them. And I know everyone will like you."
"Why would they?" Quatre asked, frowning at the warm glint in those green eyes. He felt as if Trowa was hiding something from him, but that thought was dismissed quickly when a hand brushed his cheek and he smiled in spite of his worries.
"Because you're sweet," Trowa murmured. His voice sounded calm, but his heart was nearly racing at the way Quatre turned his face just a bit, turning into the touch. It had been bold of him, and if he'd thought before-hand he probably wouldn't have touched him. But the blonde boy didn't seem to mind, and his fingers curled around a bit of soft hair. "And you're a kind person. My people will understand why you're here, you'll be welcome here."
"Because of what happened..."
Quatre turned his face away, and Trowa sighed, his hand dropping to the boy's shoulder, noticing that he flinched away. "You're hurt."
Turning, Quatre winced from the boy's reproachful gaze. He shook his head before dropping his eyes again. "It's nothing. Just some bruises..." He knew how much his being hurt angered Trowa, and he didn't want the boy angry now. His mind was quick enough to provide him with pain-filled thoughts, his friend's anger wasn't needed.
"Let me see," Trowa said, keeping his voice soft. The plural hadn't been lost on him, and he was careful to reign in his fury. He'd known the boy since they were both young, and he knew that the abuse hadn't started with the man's injury. There had been instances in the past when Quatre had come to him with bruises, and he still hadn't grown accustomed to the thought. But the boy never talked about it, and Trowa imagined he wouldn't want to now. "I have some cream I'd like to put on, if you'll let me." Quatre looked up, and he gave the boy a tentative gaze that didn't go with what he was feeling. "You aren't afraid of me, are you?"
"No! I...well, it's embarrassing," Quatre admitted. The tall boy leaned back, giving him room as he undid the straps holding his dark shirt together. Refusing wasn't an option at all, and he was warmed by the knowledge that Trowa wanted to help him. There was comfort knowing his friend despised his pain. He dropped his eyes once he'd removed the shirt, not wanting to see Trowa's reaction as he usually hid the bruises as well as he could. He felt vulnerable with them revealed.
The boy was so pale that the purplish-gray splotches looked worse than they were, but Trowa's teeth clenched as he looked at them. He didn't let his gaze rest long, however, as he could tell his silence had Quatre nervous. Reminding himself that they mostly lay on the boy's arms and that as injuries they were very minor, he managed to rid himself of some of the protective outrage. He stood slowly, and stepped to the shelf lining one wall of the small room, his hands passing over various jars before gripping one lightly. "Catherine mixed this," he murmured, giving a soft smile when the boy looked at him.
"Really? Do all the women know how?" Quatre relaxed at Trowa's nod, and he managed to hold still when the tall boy climbed onto the bed behind him. Then he blinked in surprise as very gentle hands touched him. The callouses felt rough, but they didn't press hard at all, and he smiled, ducking his head.
"You're soft." The blonde boy turned to look back at him, and Trowa smirked at the confusion. He obviously seemed to take the comment as some sort of insult. "Your skin, it's soft and smooth. Delicate."
Blushing, Quatre gave a small laugh and turned away, shaking his head at the boy's compliment. "You're so nice to me, Trowa. You're always so nice. I've never met anyone who treats me like you do." His smile faded a bit, but he sighed with something kin to content as the boy's warm hands rubbed over his arms, the cream smoothing out so he couldn't feel it.
"Quatre...that's because I care about you."
Trowa's gaze was solemn when he turned, and Quatre gave a smile, shaking his head again. "You're my friend," he said, his own voice just as solemn.
The word bothered him, somehow, but Trowa nodded. He was the boy's friend, but his feelings were much more than that. Still, he knew he'd have to move slowly if he didn't want to overwelm the boy. It wasn't as if he could just come out and tell him that they were mates now, he was sure Quatre would have a difficult time if the news were sprung on him that quickly. But these were thoughts he'd already entertained, and he pushed them aside as he realized the boy he'd wanted for so long was there with him. "Are you tired, Quatre?"
He sighed, nodding quickly. "Yes. I feel like I could curl up somewhere and just sleep for days." It was partially true, he did want to collapse in a secluded spot, but his nerves were still tense, and he imagined he wouldn't be sleeping very well. "Is this your room?" Quatre asked. He remembered that the building hadn't been very large, and he doubted if there were any extra rooms.
"Yes," Trowa said slowly. "There's room for both of us." The blonde frowned, and he wondered if the very thought of sharing a bed with him was enough to bother the boy. If so, then their future would be a very difficult one.
"I could sleep on the floor, I don't mind." It was kind of the boy to offer to share, but he'd slept on the floor before. Then he blinked at Trowa as his friend stared at him, expression unreadable. He had the sudden impression that he'd said something wrong.
"No," Trowa said sharply. "Does the thought of me touching you bother you, Quatre?" The boy looked surprised, but he had to ask. If so, then he'd sleep on the floor himself.
"Trowa. Of course not. Why would it?" The tall boy seemed to relax, and Quatre laid a hand on his arm, tilting his head a bit as he looked at him. "I just don't want you to be...put out. I mean, it's your home. It's kind of you to offer to share your bed, but you don't have to."
"I want to," Trowa admitted softly, his eyes shining as he ran a hand over the slender boy's arm. Quatre didn't seem at all bothered by it, and his lips twitched. He bent, moving his legs over the bed as he pulled off his shoes, and he was relieved when the boy beside him did likewise. Taking them, he set them at the foot of the bed, his heart racing when Quatre stood easily. Then he pulled back the cover and waited.
He wasn't sure why Trowa didn't get into the bed, but he thought that maybe he wanted to be near the door. It didn't make any difference to him, and he stepped forward, climbing in himself. His friend seemed to be acting odd to him, but Quatre reminded himself that he'd never seen the boy in his own home. Trowa joined him, and he smiled when the cover was pulled up slightly.
"Can I..." Trowa sighed, knowing his hesitation was going to make the boy wonder. But he couldn't help it. As far as physical contact went, they'd shared an occasional hug, and that was all. He felt a need and a desire to touch the boy, and he wanted Quatre to get used to it, wanted him to like it as well. "Can I hold you?"
Trowa sounded so tentative, and Quatre couldn't think if he'd ever heard that tone from him. But the question was an easy one to answer and he scooted towards the boy, smiling when strong arms wrapped around his back. It had been awkward lying on the small bed with so much space between them, and Trowa's arms were comforting. The boy didn't speak, and Quatre ducked his head, letting it rest on Trowa's shoulder as he closed his eyes.
Trowa was thinking about Quatre's smile, and the fact that the boy had moved into his arms easily. He could barely feel the soft breath that reached his neck, and he wished he'd taken off his shirt, one of his hands being pressed to soft skin beneath the blanket. Moving slowly, he let his arm curve upwards, his fingers brushing Quatre's thick hair. It was dark in the room, but he could imagine the color, pale gold. The boy had beautiful hair, and Trowa sighed, his fingers curling around the strands.
"I had a dream like this once..."
Trowa blinked at the soft whisper. He'd thought the boy asleep, and he wondered what Quatre thought of his hand resting on his head. Then the boy spoke again.
"I was so sad and alone and then...you were there, Trowa." With his eyes closed, he could feel the boy's head lift, but he didn't look up at him, not wanting to break the embrace as he moved an arm over the tall boy's waist. "And you hugged me, like this, so warm. It was the most wonderful dream I ever had..."
His heart was soaring, and he couldn't bring it back down. He knew the boy cared about him, Quatre seemed to care about everyone though. The thought of the blonde dreaming about him was enough to make his breath speed up. "You never said you dreamt of me."
"It was just a dream," Quatre whispered. He was unsure, the boy's voice had sounded strange to him. "You really are the only friend I've ever had, the only one who ever seemed to care about me. I know I take it for granted, but I do thank you, Trowa."
The word was grating on his ears, and he was tempted to tell the boy he wasn't his 'friend.' But he couldn't do that, not when that soft voice had been so sincere. Pushing onto an elbow, he nudged Quatre's chin up so he could look at the boy. Then, he slowly leaned down and brushed his lips over Quatre's in the lightist of carresses. "I do care, Quatre. But please, don't thank me for caring about you." He didn't want the boy's gratitude, he wanted him to return the feeling. "Sleep now." The blonde boy gave him a small smile and nodded. Pulling him close again, he let himself sleep as well.
* * *
He was so beautiful, his face relaxed as he slept, and Trowa's gaze was centered on those parted lips, so soft. They seemed to beg to be kissed, and his body was warmed by the thought, his own cheeks flushing a bit. It really wasn't like him to be so attracted to someone, but he'd always felt that way toward Quatre. Since he'd reached the age where his body had matured, the boy had been the only one he'd longed for. And now the object of both his affection and his lust lay sleeping in his bed and he wanted nothing more than to kiss him. A real one, not a tempting brush like the one he'd managed the night before, he wanted to taste the boy. He shook his head, sighing at himself as his hand swept Quatre's bangs away from his forehead.
Pale blue green eyes snapped open immediately, and the boy tensed in a reflexive move. Then he blinked as he recognized Trowa and gave a tiny smile, pushing himself up. "Trowa."
"Good morning," Trowa said smoothly, leaning back as he'd been hovering over the boy. Quatre was rubbing at his eyes, and he smiled at how cute the action looked.
"Did I sleep in?" Quatre asked, fighting a yawn. He was worried that he might have. It would be horrible to make a mistake so soon in his life with Trowa's people, but the tall boy was shaking his head and he sighed with relief.
"We aren't late for anything. Are you hungry?" Trowa got off the bed, and he watched as Quatre did the same, his mouth curving into a smirk when the blonde boy immediately made the bed. "I could have done that," he commented, but Quatre shrugged. Then he noticed the boy was leaning over his shirt where it lay, still on the floor where it had been dropped. "Wait." He crossed the room, pulling a long-sleeved shirt out off a shelf. It was white, and clean, but he knew it would be long on the boy. As Quatre accepted it, he reminded himself to find some clothes for the boy since his own would be too big.
Minutes passed before the silence got to him, and Trowa moved to stand in front of the blonde who stood, staring down at his folded arms. "Quatre, what's wrong?"
"I'm a horrible person..."
The soft voice reached him as the boy didn't look up, and Trowa's eyes widened. "What? Of course you're not. Why would you say that?" Moist eyes raised to him, and his throat clenched a bit at Quatre's pitiful expression.
"I...should be mourning my father. But...I just want to forget him! I want to forget what happened...and I shouldn't want that. But I keep thinking about my own future like what happened to him doesn't matter."
The boy looked as if he was about to burst into tears, and Trowa gripped his shoulders in a firm hold. "Forget it," he said sharply. "If it pains you, think of it as a favor to me. It's all right to forget what happened and to live your own life." The words came from his own mind, but he quickly thought of anything that might make the boy feel better. He hated the man who'd hurt him, and just thinking about his death made him glad inside. But he knew this would be a horrible thing to share with the stricken boy. "What happened was better for him, Quatre. It spared him an enormous amount of pain. Remember that."
"He was...in pain," Quatre whispered, his eyes blinking away the dampness that had risen to them. Trowa's warm eyes were comforting, and he held the boy tight as strong arms wrapped around him. Time passed slowly as he let himself be swamped by the embrace, then he forced his eyes to open. "I guess we're probably late now," he said softly, embarrassed by his display of weakness. "Do you cook breakfast?" He almost smiled as Trowa looked surprised, and he released the boy, stepping back. "I don't even know your family," he admitted. "Do you live with them? Or just your sister?"
"My parents died years ago," Trowa said, shaking his head. Quatre's expression was horrified, and he blinked in surprise.
"Oh Trowa...I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
"No, it's all right. It was a long time ago. Now, it's just Catherine and me." The boy still looked guilty, and he took his hand, his fingers curling around it as he tugged Quatre toward the door. "Come on. Catherine loves to cook, and I'm sure she has a huge breakfast waiting for us."
Sure enough, the table was set with a number of platters and Quatre stared at it all, nearly forgetting to greet the red-haired girl who sat before it. The table was short enough that it didn't call for chairs, and Trowa sank down, pulling him till they sat next to each other across from Catherine.
"Well, good morning, you two. Quatre, you have to be the prettiest boy I've ever seen, to look that nice when you first get up." The blonde boy stared at her, and Catherine laughed at the dark blush that reached his cheeks. Trowa was smirking at the boy, and she sighed at the way her brother's eyes centered on him.
* * *
After mere minutes of eating, Quatre sighed and set down the fork. He hadn't recognized many of the things offered, but what he had eaten had been delicious. Still, he'd only been able to eat a small amount, and he could tell from the way the other two ate that his own display seemed picky. "I'm sorry, but I can't eat any more."
"Already?" Catherine asked, looking up in surprise. The boy had barely eaten anything by her estimates, and it was suddenly obvious why he was so slender. "You didn't eat much."
"I know," Quatre said, glancing at his plate. "I'm just not used to having so much offered. I usually don't eat that much."
"Well, I'll just have to fix that. A few weeks eating here and you'll be a new person. Just look at Trowa, he used to be the scrawniest thing. All it takes is good food, I'll fatten you up in no time."
Trowa was used to his sister, and he glanced at Quatre, wondering how the boy was taking being teased. The blonde was looking at him, and Quatre blushed when he turned to meet his gaze. Curious, Trowa was debating on whether or not to ask when Catherine spoke again and he turned to face the girl.
"What are your plans for today?" Catherine asked, leaning forward as she'd pushed her plate to the side.
"Well, I thought I'd take Quatre around, introduce him to people. He should know the others."
Quatre paled at the boy's words, his mind flying. What would they think of him? He was a colonist, after all, and he knew how the colonists felt about Trowa's people. The tall boy had assured him that they would embrace him, but he had trouble believing that. Not that he doubted Trowa, but he had no experience with people who accepted those who were different.
"I'm going to do some hunting later, Quatre could go with me if he wants." The blonde boy's eyes snapped to her, and Catherine gave him a reassuring smile before looking to Trowa. "You promised to help Brenton work on his corral, so Quatre might as well go with me. It's better than being stuck here."
Gazing at the uncertain boy, Trowa wrapped his arm around Quatre's shoulders. "Go ahead. There's no reason for you to be left here by yourself."
Quatre didn't want to disappoint his friend, and he nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, hoping his expression didn't reveal his misgivings. It would be a chance to get to know Trowa's sister, and he wanted the girl to like him. "But, I've never hunted before, so I don't know if I'd be much help."
"You've never hunted?" Catherine asked, her eyes wide. "Then what do you eat?"
"We have gardens, we don't eat meat much. Not that we can't," he added, worried that she might take offense. He didn't want her to think he was insulting their food. "We just don't get it often is all."
"Well, it's no wonder you eat like a rabbit," Catherine said, shaking her head. "Don't you worry, Quatre. I'll teach you to hunt. It's not that hard at all once you learn."
It was nice to see the two of them talking, but Trowa's attention was focused more on the boy beside him. His arm was still resting on Quatre's shoulders, and he was relieved at how comfortable he seemed. He was aware that Quatre had never so much as hinted an attraction for him, but he had hope for them since the boy had yet to repel his touch. What little he knew of the boy's people was lacking in that department, and he worried about how Quatre would feel about their status as mates.
His own people tended to be attracted to either one sex, or both, and they were open and honest about it. There had never been a problem within the clan, as there were enough male and female mates for plenty of children to be born. Teenagers simply declared their feelings when they reached the age, and their declarations were accepted, members of the unchosen sex dismissing them as potential mates. But he knew that the colonists were most likely different and his heart quailed at the thought that Quatre might be attracted to females.
The boy belonged to him in the eyes of the clan, but he knew that he'd never be able to keep him if Quatre asked for release. If the boy were repelled, he would have no choice but to accept it and release his claim, even if it killed him. His thoughts were broken as the object of his perusal turned and smiled at him, and his body seemed infused by a warm melting feeling. Returning the small smile, he brushed the bangs off Quatre's forehead so they couldn't shadow the boy's lovely eyes. He didn't see the penetrating look Catherine was giving them, and the girl's rapt attention went by unnoticed.
* * *
Quatre's mind was filled with all of the faces he'd seen, the names he'd been given that would take forever to get straight. It was amazing to him, but Trowa's prediction had proved to be true. Every person he'd been introduced to had been respectful, even kind to him. The village itself also drew his attention, and he marveled at it. Each family had a separate house, the same as with his own people, but theirs were set on grass rather than dirt. His own home had been built away from the others but he knew the colonists preferred not having weeds surrounding them. Yet Trowa's people had short grass, barely inches tall, and he'd seen sheep and other animals that he didn't recognize. They'd been roaming about the village, just eating as they wished. It amazed him mostly, because the animals he'd seen hadn't defecated at any time, and he couldn't imagine being able to train a creature so well.
Catherine's call made him look up, and he took the hand the girl extended to him, grateful to her help as he climbed up the tree after her. Trowa had taught him to climb, but it wasn't something he did often enough to be good at. The boy had left him earlier, going to help his neighbor with the corral, and Quatre had found himself with Catherine. Despite his worries, it seemed the girl was easy natured, and it wasn't long before he'd found himself fishing. It had ended up easier than he'd imagined as all he'd had to do was wait until he spotted one and then stab it with the spear the girl had given him. The spear itself had been a bit unwieldy at first, but he'd caught the hang of it. Now, Catherine had said she'd show him how to spot the animals they hunted, the bow and arrows she carried the preferred weapons.
The limb he was on supported him easily, and he adopted a stance similar to Catherine's as he crouched. The forest seemed quieter now that he was watching for animals, and minutes passed in silence. Then, he felt as if he were being watched, and he turned slowly, his eyes meeting Catherine's gaze as he found the girl staring at him.
"Are you always so quiet?" Catherine asked gently, her eyes soft. The boy had barely spoken since Trowa had left, and she knew about his past. She imagined that he'd been taught, roughly, not to speak out, and the thought made her want to protect the boy. As it was, her answer was silence as Quatre nodded, and she decided to prod him into talking. "Tell me, Quatre. How do you feel about my brother?"
"He's my friend," Quatre said quickly, nodding sharply. "He's my best friend." He frowned as the girl laughed suddenly, and he blinked in confusion.
"No wonder Trowa looked so worried this morning. You're calling him your friend." The boy was staring at her, his confusion obvious, and she shook her head. "Has Trowa said anything to you about your future?"
"He said I would live with him," Quatre nodded, wondering why his answer wasn't enough as the girl shook her head again.
"That's not what I meant," Catherine said. "Quatre, have you ever been attracted to someone?" The blush that came to those pale cheeks told her no, and the boy seemed shocked that she would ask. "Are you attracted to Trowa?"
"Please," Quatre said sharply. He didn't understand why the girl would say such a thing, and he wondered if she was trying to find fault in him. "Trowa is my only friend..." The girl looked furious, and his eyes widened warily as he wondered what she was angry about. He wondered if he should have kept quiet.
"Trowa's a bloody fool," Catherine muttered, glowering at nothing specific. "I can't believe he didn't tell you. Quatre, Trowa made a claim on you. Do you know what that means?" The boy stared at her with wide eyes, and he shook his head. "That means he has chosen you as his mate." Quatre was still staring at her, and she leaned forward a bit. "It means no one else may touch you, sexually, without Trowa's permission. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Quatre shook his head, horrified that Trowa's sister would try to fill him with such lies. He knew the boy, knew him well enough that he trusted him completely, and he'd never believe what she was saying. He didn't want to argue with her, didn't want her to hate him, but for her to say that Trowa would let people have sex with him was going too far. "Trowa wouldn't do that," he said, his voice dropping as his anger grew. "He would *never* let people hurt me. He doesn't like it when I'm hurt. He cares about me..."
"No..." She closed her eyes, feeling like the biggest fool in the world, and she knew she'd only managed to confuse the boy even more. Worse, she'd also angered him and she wanted them to be friends. "Quatre, you've misunderstood. By claiming you, Trowa has made you his mate. His alone. It means that no one but him may touch you, and the same for you. Trowa is your mate, so no one can touch him either." The boy was blinking slowly, and she held her breath, hoping he'd gotten what she was saying.
"You mean...are we...married then?"
Catherine bit her lip lightly, her eyes narrowing. "I don't know what that means," she muttered, wishing she did. "But as mates, you'll stay together unless one of you proves to be a bad mate." Her voice trailed off as she knew she shouldn't have said anything. She couldn't help but curse Trowa for not having explained it to the boy the night before, but she simply couldn't let Quatre be taken as a mate without knowing what it meant. It wasn't fair to the boy, and it could lead to heartache.
Quatre was staring at the ground below him. He was stuck on the thought that Trowa had decided this, meaning Trowa wanted him as a mate. It sounded like marriage to him, but the marriages he'd seen involved men and women, never two boys. And as mates, they'd have sex. This was driving him crazy, as he'd only heard the word in passing and then, too, it had been related to a man and woman who'd been married. It was confusing to him, and he wondered how two men could mate, have sex. But then, he didn't know what the word and act were, so he found no answers. Then, his suddenly slow mind shoved away thoughts about the unknown as he focused on what the girl had said last.
He and Trowa would stay together unless one of them proved to be a bad mate. It was impossible not to worry, even though he knew Trowa cared about him. There was no way the boy would hurt him. Still, if he was a bad mate, he'd have to leave, and the thought hurt more than any physical pain could. He didn't even know what made a person a good or bad mate, and he wondered if it wasn't the sex thing again. It was so confusing, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head at how lost he was in it all.
Seeing the boy's stricken expression, Catherine wanted to slap herself, hard. She knew Trowa would kill her when he found out what she'd done, and she realized it wasn't her place to tell Quatre. But she couldn't help it, it was *wrong* to take him without telling him first and he had a right to know. She still wanted to crawl off and find a rock somewhere to hide under in the hopes that the blonde boy would forget what she'd said. "Quatre, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No," Quatre whispered, looking at her with dull eyes. "I thank you for telling me. I...need to think now." With a clumsiness that was odd, even for him, he slipped out of the tree. Then he walked away, aiming for the river they'd fished in earlier.
A minute passed as Catherine stared after the boy, her mind frozen on how he'd swayed with each step. Then she shook herself roughly, jumping from the tree. Straightening her back, she steeled herself for what was to come as she knew she had to tell Trowa what she'd done.
* * *
Trowa walked very quickly, his legs not hampered by the fear that clenched around his heart. He was furious at Catherine, but the girl had been so obviously torn up about her mistake that he couldn't even yell at her. Now, he was terrified at what would happen if Quatre was repulsed by what she'd told him. He'd thought to move slowly, get the boy accustomed to being touched by him and hopefully get him to like it. Now, his plans were thrown as Quatre was warned, the suddenness no doubt a shock to him. Then he halted as he spotted the boy.
He was sitting at the edge of the river, his legs drawn up. Trowa stared, hating how vulnerable the boy looked, and he suddenly didn't care if his own heart was about to be ripped as he stepped forward quickly. Within seconds, he was at the boy's side, and he drew Quatre to him, hugging the slender frame.
Quatre flinched as strong arms suddenly caught him, then he gasped, realizing who it was. His arms moved slowly, but he returned the hug, pressing his face to Trowa's chest and swallowing sharply. "I'll be a good mate," he promised, his whisper soft. "I'll do whatever you want if I can stay with you, Trowa." He was the only one who cared about him, and Quatre didn't want to think what would happen if he lost him. He'd have no where to go, he'd have nothing if he lost his only friend. It was true what he'd said, he'd do whatever it took. If Trowa wanted him as a mate, meaning sex, then he'd do it. He wasn't afraid, after all, since he knew Trowa would never hurt him, so it couldn't be bad.
His eyes closed in pain, and Trowa felt horrible, hearing those adamant words. "Quatre...being a mate isn't the same as being a slave. I'd never make you do *anything* you didn't want to do...I swear."
Tilting his head back, Quatre actually managed a small smile, and he blushed a little. "I know that, Trowa. You care about me." The words, the fact, the constant reminder had served to keep him going for years, and he still used it. Just knowing that made him feel confidence. "What I want to do is stay with you. For as long as I can."
Trowa stared down at the boy, his mind awash at how beautiful he was even as his heart soared at Quatre's words. His muscles tensed as he suddenly made up his mind; he'd find out now if they had a future. Pulling the boy even closer, he lowered his head, his mouth moving over Quatre's gently. The boy didn't push him away, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing past those sweet lips as he finally tasted him. As the boy still didn't fight him, he let himself fall into the kiss, and his hands moved over Quatre's back, pressing the boy against him.
It was oxygen that brought him back, the lack of it, and Trowa opened his eyes slowly, staring at the boy he held. Quatre was limp against him, and the boy's mouth was open as he breathed quickly, his eyes closed. He swallowed painfully, then forced his voice to work. "Quatre...? Did you...feel anything?"
Blinking hazily, Quatre looked up at him, his eyes very wide. "Trowa. That was...wonderful. I never imagined that, I didn't know..." He was caught off guard, but he still smiled when Trowa suddenly laughed, the boy's expression so different from any he'd seen on him. Then he was being hugged again, and he pressed his cheek to Trowa's chest, his arms slipping around the tall boy's waist as he sighed in utter contentment.
TBC