* * *
"How did he take it?"
"How would you expect?! I basically told the guy that I wanted to have a kid, then on top of that I suggested having a genetic, and then I said that I may just do the nasty with Relena! How would you feel, knowing that everything over the last five years has been building up to one kid, and your best friend throws it in your face that you can't even have a kid without destroying yourself? He didn't take it really well, Heero."
They were pulled over on the side of the road, carefully hidden should Trowa and Quatre drive by. They were discussing the day, and especially Duo's plan. Apparently it had worked.
"I just feel like such a bastard. He's my best friend, and all I did was throw this kid thing back into his face."
"You didn't have a choice. We needed to test this, to see if Quatre would really go to Trowa. If what you said is true, then Quatre was very upset. Knowing this, he should go to Trowa. We can only hope he does."
"Yeah, I know that; it's just that.I never wanted to hurt him, you know, and you should have seen his eyes. It was all in his eyes; his face was the same-a little stunned, but easily written off because of the subject. But his eyes, Heero, I hurt him really bad, I mean really, really bad, and he didn't say anything. In fact, all he did was answer my questions like a real gentleman, then he got up, took our dishes, and came back with a different subject. But his eyes held all this pain; when I started talking about Relena, it was as if he wanted to either run or punch me. Hell, I wish I had punched myself."
Heero reached around to encircle Duo's waist, pulling him forward and into his embrace. "I know how hard it was for you. Try to remember that this is how we can help Quatre. So much of this is dependent on Quatre, Trowa, and Corinne; we can only do what we're asked." He felt Duo nod his head in agreement. "We'll have to tell Trowa to be on the look out for Quatre to try and broach the subject of a child. Do you think he'll talk about it?"
Duo shrugged. "I don't know. He looked like it hurt him even to breathe. Maybe he will. I hope he does. I don't know, Heero, I just don't know anymore." Heero squeezed him a little more tightly. "Well, that's enough of that; there isn't anything more we can do today. What did Corinne have to say?"
Heero released Duo and sat back on the motorcycle. "Well she was pissed that the call got through, that's for sure."
"Yeah?"
He nodded. "She called down to the main security board and chewed them out for nearly ten minutes, saying she was Quatre's psychiatrist, and she'd given them a direct order. They closed the channel; nothing's getting through there again."
"Good. What else did she have to say? I know that Trowa wanted to talk to her about the sudden crash and burn of everything they'd worked on." He said it with an ounce of humor he didn't feel. His defense mechanism could hold out against the toughest OZ troops, but for his friend, they collapsed under the weight.
Heero noticed and took his hand, squeezing tightly. "She seems to think that the encounter with his sisters set him back quite a bit. Corinne said something about control issues. She said that Quatre may trust Trowa right now, but because Quatre was the one who defended them against his sisters, he still doesn't think that Trowa can take care of him. It's like, Quatre has to take care of Trowa; he has to stay in control, and now he can even tell Trowa what's upsetting him, but he won't allow Trowa to get involved, won't give him that much control over him. She seems to think that people like Quatre, who've been abused as children, often desire more control than others. Because Quatre's an empath, he's able to mask the rage he feels at the lack of control and turn it into concern. Like when Trowa played weak; it tapped into Quatre's need to be stronger than him, so he took care of Trowa, pushing his own fear and anger away-it's all in the way you look at it-control that is. Quatre being able to control his emotions are in some ways the only control he's ever had."
Duo nodded his head. "So what's Trowa suppose to do? Play weak and defenseless for the rest of his life?"
"The complete opposite. From now on, Trowa has to do everything he can to be in control. He has to go so far as to take charge of Quatre's life. Corinne thinks that if Quatre can see that Trowa can take charge and survive it, then maybe he'll realize that Trowa can take care of him. That and she planted another suggestion in his mind during the quick seconds they were linked. Quatre should be more susceptible to the way Trowa will be acting today. It's all really confusing, but I gather the control issue stems from the abuse in Quatre's past. I'm glad I'm not him-either one of them."
"Me too. But do you really think Trowa can pull this off? I mean, Trowa's been hurt, too, you know. He's always been the quiet one in the relationship. Can he really take charge of Quatre, control him to the point where Quatre will see and understand?" Doubt laced Duo's words.
"I think so-no! I know he will! He doesn't have a choice. That's the other thing Corinne said. It seems that Quatre flared the link while she and Trowa were together; it was probably during the time you were talking to him about the child. Corinne sensed the link through Trowa; it isn't good."
"What do you mean?"
"Quatre was very upset. He opened the link to Trowa to gather comfort. That means that he's still using Trowa's emotions instead of coming to him. But the bad part is that Corinne seems to think that Quatre, in that one moment, considered that Trowa couldn't protect him. She felt that he wanted Trowa by his side, but she then felt his doubt at Trowa being able to protect him-probably from your words. That's why we left the base; Trowa wanted to get to Quatre as soon as possible. The confusion in Quatre right now, because of this dual conflict of going to Trowa but thinking he can't protect him, is leading him towards some drastic measures. Corinne's not sure what could happen if Trowa doesn't force Quatre to understand."
"She doesn't think he'll try to do something stupid, does she? I mean she doesn't think he'll try to, you know, kill himself or anything." Heero didn't answer. "Oh God, Heero, he can't, he just can't! We've all lived through too much, seen too much! He can't let this end it, he just can't let it end this way!"
With a gentle tug, Heero had Duo situated in his lap. Carefully, he held him, knowing there was nothing he could really do except lend his presence to his lover and hope it would be enough. They stayed together for a few moments before Duo pulled away.
"We'd better get going; Quatre'll get nervous if we take too long."
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"No. I'm not. I won't be ok until Quatre's better and I kill each and every one of his sisters. I'm so glad I don't have family."
Heero said nothing, not knowing how to answer a statement he knew nothing about. Instead he started the motorcycle and gave Duo a hand back on. Together they sped away, back towards town, back towards Quatre.
* * *
"Duo! Heero! There you are! We were getting a little worried about you."
He and Trowa had parked the car a few blocks away from the café they'd stopped at the first time they'd been in town. They'd all agreed earlier that they'd meet at the café, get Duo some food, and then head out; it was four in the afternoon.
"Yeah, I know we're late, but you know how it is; I hadn't seen Heero in like five hours we had to get reacquainted." Duo sat down and pulled Heero onto his lap, wrapping a hand around his partner's inner thigh.
Quatre watched Trowa shake his head, a smile clearly imprinted on his lips. "Trowa! Don't encourage him."
"Why? I think it's funny."
Quatre rolled his eyes; it was going to be a long, long day.
They sat for about half an hour before Duo had completely satisfied his hunger for both food and Heero's mouth. Quatre couldn't help but flush at all the attention they were getting. Finally Trowa and Heero stood and took the dishes to the collector. They were gone for a few minutes, but Quatre saw them talking; Trowa often shaking his head yes or no. Then they returned, Trowa carrying an iced drink for Quatre. "I thought you might like this."
"Trowa! That was very nice of you. I was actually just thinking about grabbing something before we left. Thank you." It was an impulse, he leaned up on his tiptoes and kissed him, reveling in the feel of their lips pressed together. It was times like these, when they were together, out in public, that gave him the most joy-when he could show the world how happy they were together-in love.
Quatre took the drink and then picked up the wicker basket they'd placed the kitten in so she could travel with them and still be comfortable. Trowa had vetoed the car, saying it would get too hot for the small thing. They'd found a shop that sold bags and had purchased the wicker. It was shaped like a picnic basket, only it had a shoulder strap; Trowa figured it would work just fine.
"Um, Quatre, is there something you want to tell us?" Duo's voice held mock shock, and Quatre played along, liking the atmosphere about him; it was so much better than it had been, before with his sisters, and in this very place with Duo.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I understand the height thing between you and Trowa; and I know it's a very temperamental subject with you, but um, you're not going to buy a pair of high heels to go with that are you?" Duo indicated the bag. Quatre couldn't help but laugh, and neither could Trowa or Heero. It was so wonderful to see them all laughing; it felt so right, so perfect, like this was the way it was supposed to be.
Slowly, Quatre wiggled his finger for Duo to come closer, then with a great show, he opened the bag just a little to show his friend what was inside. Duo let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank God, I mean if you and Trowa are into that sort of thing, go for it, but um, don't make me buy panty hose, alright?" It took them another five minutes talking about how while Trowa would look beautiful in a green Kimono, they were not going there.
But an hour later found them in a men's shop. It was Duo who found the pair of pants first.
"QUATRE!!! Oh my God, you have to see these; you're going to flip!" Half dragged, Quatre followed Duo to a corner of the prestigious shop.
"Duo, what's gotten into you?"
"Nothing man, but these totally have to go on Trowa!" Duo held up a pair of black leather pants. The style was designed to fit extremely tight, and Quatre had to gulp as he imagined Trowa wearing them.
"You're-you're kidding, right?" His voice was weak, almost pleading.
"No way. Trowa would look so hot in these. He's all legs, can you just imagine?"
"Um, yeah, I don't think Trowa would like them too much; they're not really his style."
"What's not my style?"
Trowa had sneaked up on them, startling Quatre, who spun around to collide directly with Trowa's chest. He could have been in heaven and not taken notice; Trowa smelled so good.
"Um, Duo-Duo just found something, but I don't think you'll like them very much."
"What are they?"
Duo held up the pants like a prize trophy. "These, T. Can't you just imagine how Quatre will react to you in these hip huggers?" Duo wiggled his eyebrows, flashing brilliant white teeth.
Quatre shook his head. The pants weren't something Trowa would wear. It took a special person to pull off that type of look, someone who had a lot of power. Trowa would look hot, but his meek demeanor would clash with the style. He shook his head again. "Duo I already told you-"
"What size are they?"
"Trowa?!" He was stunned; these weren't words from his Trowa, the Trowa that only wore jeans and a few select shirts and sweaters.
"It'll be something different." He shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't bought a new pair of pants in a long time. Don't you think they'll look good on me?" He had a smile on his face; he already knew Quatre's answer.
"Of course they'll look good on you-too good! Are you sure?"
Trowa shrugged again, and then searched the rack for his size. Once he'd located it, they moved to the dressing room to try them on. On the way there he'd taken Quatre's hand and led him to the waiting area.
"Don't move."
Stunned at Trowa's commanding words, he had indeed stood right where he'd been told, simply watching the room Trowa would eventually come out of.
Sales clerks passed by and asked if they could help him, but he waved them on, never taking his eyes from the wooden doors. Patiently he waited for Trowa to emerge. "Hey Q, what do you think of this shirt?"
He turned his head to the left and saw Duo holding up a Hawaiian shirt against Heero's chest, the slightly shorter boy was rolling his eyes, obviously doing his best not to kill his lover.
"Don't be cruel, Duo. Heero hasn't been that mean to you."
"Are you kidding?! Just for that, Heero, go buy this shirt!"
"Duo no Baka!"
Quatre ignored their antics and turned back to the wood doors. But the door was open, and in the doorway stood a sight from some dream.
Without his shirt on, Trowa stood wearing only the leather pants. His shoes were off, and even his socks had been removed. To say he looked good enough to devour would have been an understatement. For some reason Trowa wore the pants well, eliciting a rebel without a cause look. His hair fell dangerously in his face, and Quatre found it hard to breathe for a moment.
"What do you think?"
Did he actually want him to speak? Was he truly not able to read the expression on his face?
"Um, Trowa, you look-you look-wow!"
"I take it you like them then."
Quatre heard the humor in Trowa's voice and knew he was being teased. Suddenly he felt like giving back a little, he smiled wickedly.
"I like them a lot; in fact, I love them on you. You look very, very, very sexy in them." Quatre had taken a step with each 'very', and now stood directly in front of Trowa. Raising his hands, he rested them on his lover's chest, laying them across his nipples. "You look good enough to eat, lover." It was so out of character for Quatre, that he saw Trowa's eyes grow huge, his pupils dilating to almost painful levels. He leaned up, and nipped at the underside of Trowa's chin. "Will you wear them out for me? I want to show you off in them?" He nearly purred, and he saw Trowa gulp in response.
"If you'd like."
"Oh yeah, I'd like-very-much."
One pair of leather pants-worn out-and one Hawaiian shirt-stuffed into the bottom of an unmarked sack-later, and they were back out on the street. Quatre couldn't help it, it was such a turn on to see Trowa dressed like this; he seemed so.strong and tough, like he could take on the world and win. With urgent hands, Quatre wrapped an arm securely about his lover's waist, wanting the world to know that Trowa belonged to him, and only him. They didn't usually engage in such public displays, but today, Quatre felt the need to mark Trowa as his and just as importantly, show the world that he belonged to Trowa. Especially that he belonged to Trowa.
"Well, where to now?"
Quatre allowed his hand to slip down, his fingertips resting lightly on Trowa's hip, his palm possessively resting on his ass. It didn't escape Trowa's attention as he pulled Quatre closer to him, dropping a sweet kiss on his lips before shrugging his shoulders at Duo. Passing them, people stared at the two couples so obviously together. Quatre was in heaven- first leather pants, then Trowa's extra special attention to him-now he knew why his sisters had wanted boyfriends so badly. He pushed the thought of his sisters out of his mind almost the second it entered; he wasn't going to allow them to ruin this moment.
"I don't know. We could just walk, see where it takes us?"
They agreed, and together, they walked down the street, window shopping and occasionally entering a store or two. The whole time, even in the stores, he never let go of Trowa, and to his amazement, Trowa would often pull him closer if he tried to pull away to look at something, only to walk with him to investigate the curious item. He liked this very, very much!
Out on the street again, a small shop caught his eye. "Look, Trowa, it's an art gallery. I've been looking for a new painting to hang in the living room. Can we go look?" He looked to Trowa for an answer and thought it very weird that he'd be asking permission; he just assumed it was the leather pants.
Trowa nodded. "If you'd like, I wouldn't mind if we went in."
"Great! Duo, Heero, are you coming?"
"Yeah, we'll be right behind you. Heero wants to check out the next shop. We'll meet you there in a few minutes."
"Sure, come on, Trowa." Together they crossed the street and entered the cool dark shop.
All around them were grand paintings. The shop was small but also well stocked. Quatre imagined that it probably held a decent selection. He was surprised when Trowa pulled him towards a painting on the far wall.
"We'll start from the beginning. That last shop Heero wanted to look at was a computer store; he'll be in there for a while." Trowa squeezed his shoulders but did not let go.
It crossed Quatre's mind that this was one store where their relationship could result in unfair treatment. No doubt the owners were used to high society coming in and examining their wares; they weren't likely to be tolerant of the two of them. But Trowa knew this-at least Quatre thought he did-so when he made no move to separate from him, he decided to just go with it, not caring what a bunch of snobs thought; as long as they didn't say anything to Trowa.
For half an hour they walked among the make-believe and surreal. They examined paintings and sculptures alike. Some would catch their attention, while others they'd pass by with little more than a glance. Some Quatre liked, and others Trowa. At peace with one another, they strolled the displays.
It wasn't until their kitten started to meow that Trowa removed his arm from about his shoulder, and Quatre felt slightly disappointed at its disappearance. The poor little thing was in a slight bit of pain, and Trowa told Quatre to wait here while he went back to the car for the medicine the vet had given them.
"Are you sure? I'll come with you."
"No, wait here until Duo and Heero come. I'll be back in a few minutes. Will you be alright?"
Trowa's concern touched him deeply-more than it usually did-he blamed the leather pants.
"Sure. I'll just wait here like a good little boy while you go off and leave me for a kitten. It's all right, I understand, she is cuter than I am." He pretended to pout, and was startled out of his mind when Trowa leaned in and caught his protruding lip between his teeth. The kiss was nothing short of breathtaking, and Quatre was breathing heavily when Trowa pulled away.
"Ten minutes-don't go anywhere." Quatre nodded his head; he didn't have the voice to say much of anything. He watched Trowa leave before he blushed crimson and turned back to the paintings, hoping no one had noticed and yet praying that they all had.
He was on the other side of the room looking at a beautiful nude of a very tall man holding his clothes in one hand and a hat in the other. It had caught his eye the first time, and though he knew it wasn't a piece for their home, he did want to look at it again.
"Mr. Winner?"
Turning his head, he noticed a middle-aged couple standing next to him. They looked instantly familiar, but he couldn't seem to place them.
"I'm sorry; Captain Utooll-we worked on a committee together-to restore water to the outlying L2 colonies."
Recognition clicked in, and Quatre was almost ashamed of his forgetfulness. "I'm the one that should be sorry, Captain. You looked so familiar; you will please forgive me."
"Of course my boy. I understand, a busy young man like you. It's no problem at all." The woman beside him cleared her throat. "Oh where are my manners? Mr. Winner, my wife, Gesset Utooll."
Quatre took her hand and laid a light kiss on it. "A pleasure to meet you Mrs. Utooll. Please call me Quatre; as well as you Captain."
"Oh it's such a pleasure to meet you too, Quatre. George has told me so much about you. He was greatly impressed by your skill with the other members of that dreadful committee. He was very thankful to have you on his side."
"It was a very righteous cause; how could I take the opposite side? But please, you give me too much credit; your husband brought with him the entire military force, without which we would have surely lost the proposal." It had been over a year ago when Duo had brought to his attention the proposal to bring in fresh water to the colonies of L2. Duo, having been orphaned there, had thought Quatre could help; he, of course, had done all he could, and thankfully it had worked.
"You're very kind, Quatre. Gesset and I were just admiring the paintings when I thought I recognized you. I hope we're not disturbing you too much."
"No, of course not. I'm waiting for some friends before we continue shopping."
"Oh wonderful then, perhaps-" But Mrs. Utooll was cut off by a shrill cry.
"QUATRE!!!" Duo ran around the paintings, nearly running into half of them, before grabbing Quatre about the shoulders and swinging behind him, cringing in fear.
"Duo, what's going on?" He was completely flustered. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his friend, but Duo had a way of doing the worst things, at the worst possible times. Quatre was beginning to understand Heero's frustration.
Suddenly Duo dropped to his knees behind him and wrapped his arms about his waist, burying his head nearly between his lower cheeks.
"DUO!"
"He's after me! Heero's going to kill me! I didn't mean it, I was only looking at the keyboards; how was I suppose to know that the holokeys were connected to the entire store? I didn't mean it either; I was just joking around; I swear it! It was totally innocent, Quatre, you have to believe me!"
"Oh god, what did you do?" He turned pleading eyes on the Captain and his wife, begging that they forgive him for the disruption; but the couple seemed stunned and amused by the braided baka's antics.
"I just typed a really simple message, you know, to let Heero know I love him; how was I suppose to know it'd show up on all the monitors?!"
He was afraid to ask. "Duo, just how appropriate was the message you typed?" He nearly killed himself for asking.
"I just typed that I loved him."
"And."
His voice was very small. "And that I was going to tie him up and-"
"Duo! I get the idea!" He buried his face in his hands, completely and utterly embarrassed. The Captain was never going to speak to him again, and that was only if he didn't get thrown out of the establishment completely.
But it only got worse. Suddenly, Duo realized that he'd been talking with another couple, add that to his earlier realization that he was in a very ritzy art shop, and Duo was on his feet in a moment. Hands at his sides, he wore the biggest smile, and his face was flushed bright scarlet.
In a horrible stage whisper, he said to Quatre, "I am-so-sorry." Quatre could only roll his eyes and pray.
"Captain and Mrs. Utooll, this is my friend Duo; Duo, this is Captain Utooll and his wife Mrs. Utooll."
Duo lifted his hand, most dramatically. "It's such a pleasure to meet you. I've heard so much about you both." Quatre shook his head, eyes closed, and brought his hand to his temple. Leave it to Duo to screw up even an introduction.
He was surprised when Mrs. Utooll reached out her hand and shook Duo's. "It's a great pleasure to meet you as well, Duo. I'm afraid I don't know Quatre all that well, but I'm sure if I did he would have talked non-stop about you."
"Well you know, I'm an interesting guy." Quatre could have killed him.
Suddenly Duo was ducking behind him again. "Quatre look, I know I totally ruined this thing for you, but Heero's really going to kill me. Got a place to hide, buddy? You know what I always say: 'I run, I hide, but I never tell a lie.' I especially like the hiding part right now."
Quatre closed his eyes and pointed towards the back. "There's a service door in the back. Do me a favor, though."
"Anything."
"Go quietly and slowly, don't kill anyone, and please, please don't tell anyone we're friends, understand?"
"Go it! Not friends-hey! Wait a minute!"
"Here comes Heero."
"Oh man, gotta split. I'll see ya later." And with that, Duo was gone. Quatre wanted to curl up and die of embarrassment. But it wasn't over yet.
"Quatre, have you seen that baka?"
Quatre shook his head in exasperation. "Heero, this is Captain and Mrs. Utooll; Sir, Madam, this is my other friend Heero."
Heero nodded in their general direction, continuing to scan the room for signs of Duo. "Then he was here. Where's he hiding? I'm going to kill him!"
Quatre smiled a horribly pained smile before pointing in the direction Duo had gone. "He used the service door. I suggest you go find him, but Heero?"
"Hn?"
"Don't make a mess when you kill him, please, for me?" His voice must have belied his exasperation because Heero only smiled and gave him a nod before he was gone.
Quatre turned back to the couple. "I'm so terribly sorry. I assure you, they're not always like this." But Mrs. Utooll was using her hand to stifle her laughter, and even the Captain was trying to hide a smirk.
"Please, Quatre, I don't think I've ever had such a grand time at an art gallery before. You've made this mundane trip to please my wife a most joyous experience."
Quatre offered him a weak smile; there was little else for him to do.
"Quatre, are you alright?"
And then Trowa was beside him, the wicker bag resting on his muscular shoulder, leather pants reflecting a dull sheen from the light. He was saved.
"Captain Utooll, Mrs. Utooll, this is my partner Trowa Barton; Trowa this is Captain Utooll and his wife. You remember I worked with the Captain on the L2 water committee?"
Trowa nodded his head before shaking hands with the couple.
"Your partner? Tell me Mr. Barton, what company do you own?"
Suddenly, Quatre felt sick to his stomach. How in the world was he going to explain this one? He looked to Trowa for support; but realized immediately that Trowa would never interfere with his business partners; he'd have to figure a way out of this on his own.
He was about to say something when Mrs. Utooll save him. "George, not-that- type of partner." She emphasized the word 'that', and Quatre could feel the apprehension rise along with the Captain's eyebrows.
"Oh," was all he said.
"Mr. Barton, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. We were just telling Quatre that we'd been looking around the gallery when my husband recognized him."
"Yes, quite right, I think perhaps it's the hair, my boy, very unusual shade of near white."
"George! Ignore him, he has the tact of a potato." They laughed, and the tension broke around them. Quatre decided immediately that he like Gesset Utooll very much.
They talked for a few more minutes, before Gesset asked if he'd be interested in seeing her choice that day. He agreed and left Trowa and the Captain to their conversation on Mecha engines.
The piece was a beautiful landscape painted in watercolors. "It reminds me of something my son made when he was about your age. He was a very good painter; I always thought he should have made a career out of it."
"He chose a different path?"
She paused, and Quatre was taken aback to see tears gleaming in her eyes. "He died during the war. Mondal was his name, my eldest. He was only twenty-three." She dabbed at the tears in her eyes with a handkerchief he handed her. "Thank you very much."
"I'm sorry I've brought up such sad memories."
"Oh no, it's nice to think of Mondal painting; he always enjoyed it so much. Actually you yourself look a little like him; that's why George made the comment about your hair. Mondal had almost white hair as well. I hope you don't mind."
"Mind? Of course not. I'm honored to be compared."
She smiled at him. "Quatre, I hope you don't think me rude for saying this, but I've heard of your recent-shall we say, disappearance-from the public eye. Again I hope you don't think me rude, but I was told it was due to a rather public display of your partner, Mr. Barton."
Not knowing what else to do, he nodded his head.
The middle-aged woman sighed. "It's positively dreadful to think that man has come so far and yet hardly moved at all. The only reason I bring it up is to offer you a word of advice." Quatre looked at her fully, uncertainty in his eyes. "My son, Mondal he also had a partner, a man he was very, very fond of. In fact I was assured that once he returned from his term of service I'd be planning a wedding. George and I were both very excited, but in truth, nervous about the public backlash. I wish with all my heart that I could go back in time and offer him a little more encouragement. I think he would have liked to have known how proud of him his father and I were. We unfortunately never got the chance." She placed a light hand on his arm. "It must be terribly hard for you right now. But I'd like you to consider George and myself as friends." She gave him a bright smile. "Should we ever attend the same function again, I'd hope you and Mr. Barton would share a table with us; it'd be such an honor."
Quatre could barely contain the emotions inside of him. He'd never really considered the rest of the world understanding his and Trowa's relationship, especially not after the Winter party. But here before him was one woman who would stand against the masses for him, who believed in love over everything else. His voice was thick with emotion when he used it. "Thank you very much, Gesset; I don't think you know quite what your words mean to me."
"Oh my dear, it's truly nothing, only the truth. I would ask one favor, though." "What's that?"
"Please don't bring your other friends." She smiled to let him know she was kidding, and together they laughed. The world was good today there was hope.
Finally, after Gesset had purchased her painting, the two couples stood outside the gallery doors; both held hands.
"I do hope we meet again soon, Quatre. Please take care of yourself."
"I will, and you as well. Captain, I'll be in touch with you over that newest proposal."
"Very good. Have a nice evening, both of you."
"Thank you, good day." Trowa squeezed his hand, and together they walked down the street.
"They seemed very nice."
"Trowa, they were possibly the nicest people I've ever met." And Quatre was not kidding.
They met up with Heero and Duo a few streets down and then continued to the restaurant they'd chosen earlier. Once again, Quatre had his hand clearly marking himself as Trowa's. There was more confidence in his step, and he loved the looks they received; they were music together, and he wanted the entire world to know it.
Inside the fanciest restaurant in town, they were immediately shown to a beautiful table in a corner on the deck. The sky was just starting to turn dark, and the candles on the table offered just the right amount of romantic lighting for the occasion.
The four of them had come here before. In fact they'd often eaten here before things had gone bad with his sisters. Quatre pushed that thought from his mind, focusing on the heated debate Duo and Heero were having over which fork to use first. Quatre smiled.
"What are you smiling about?" Trowa's voice was hushed, mingling well with the atmosphere around them.
"I was just thinking about you; nothing special." He smiled brighter, eliciting an equally as bright smile from his beloved.
The waiter came then and took their orders, but it was Trowa who surprised him yet again.
Whenever they came, he usually ordered the same thing, and tonight was going to be no different; he'd already told Trowa when they'd settled into their seats. He didn't expect what happened next.
The waiter took everyone's order and then turned to Quatre. He was about to say the Lobster d'la Crème, but surprisingly Trowa beat him to it.
"He'll be having the Lobster d'la Crème. Please no saffron, and a glass of Shavanon Seven." It was his exact order; Trowa had remembered. He smiled at Trowa before taking his hand under the table.
"Thank you."
Trowa only smiled and squeezed his hand back.
He couldn't explain the feeling he had for the rest of the meal. At every turn, Trowa seemed to stand out from the shadow he usually stood in, and was instead standing in the light, proudly displaying Quatre for everyone to see. He didn't understand why it made him so very happy to know that Trowa was doing all of these wonderful things for him, but he wasn't going to question him. It felt so right to have Trowa lead for a while. He'd missed what it felt like to simply follow. With Koeran he'd had no choice but to follow, barely knowing anything, and being afraid of everything. With Trowa he'd always been the one to make decisions. He found he liked it both ways, but right now, it just felt right to allow Trowa to lead him. So very, very right.
After dinner and dessert, they chatted for a few minutes before leaving the restaurant and heading for a popular tourist attraction.
The Kilazian Towers rose above the town nearly three hundred stories. They were a beautiful mark of expert architecture. He and Trowa had been to the top once, and they were both eager to visit again. The night air was chilly, and Trowa had him securely against him, offering body heat. Their little kitten was sleeping and had since Trowa had given her another dose of medicine. She hadn't uttered a sound all evening.
The elevator ride to the top was amazing as the enclosure was made entirely from glass. One could see for miles round, and Quatre felt his excitement grow at reaching the top. The elevator operator told them that the Tower was almost empty because of the festival they hadn't known was in a different part of town. That suited the two couples very nicely.
Together they stepped off the elevator just as three other couples were stepping on. A quick tour showed that over the wide expanse, only three other couples remained on the top floor. Splitting up, he and Trowa moved away from the rising moon, back towards the dark corner of the roof, it was easier to see stars from there.
Quatre leaned against the railing, gazing into the night sky. "It's so beautiful here. I don't understand why anyone would want to destroy it."
"Some people think that the Earth is nothing more than a breeding ground for suffering. In that light it's easy to see why terrorists attack it."
"But it seems so wrong. People that are born here, raised here, don't understand just how wondrous this planet is. I can remember looking at it from my bedroom window, wondering what it would be like to visit, or maybe even live here. I was always jealous of Cijen; she got to study dance here; what an amazing place to study dance." His brain barely registered that he'd said her name. He felt protected here, standing next to Trowa; as if nothing could harm him if he just stayed close to him. Such a strange feeling.
"Trowa?"
"Hn?"
"Do you feel different tonight? Like something is different, odd, but good at the same time?"
Trowa shook his head. "I hadn't noticed anything, why?"
"It's nothing. I was just wondering." Trowa moved to stand behind him, his hand wrapped about him, settling the palm against his stomach, his fingers brushing across his light shirt, over and over. Quatre closed his eyes; the emotions coming from those simple touches were almost too much. He'd craved Trowa for so long, wanting him to be the one; and now that he was, he wanted to constantly reaffirm that idea in his head.
Strong fingers, now whispers, danced across the silk of his shirt. He took in a deep breath, hoping Trowa would understand what he was doing to him. But the added oxygen only made him even more light headed as Trowa continued to casually play across his stomach.
Then he hit a sensitive part, and Quatre's stomach muscles contracted; he had to stop Trowa right away. "Trowa."
"Hn?"
Once light fingers became more insistent, increasing pressure against his skin.
"Trowa.maybe we should walk a little." Anything to keep him from this.
"If you'd like." But Trowa's hand continued to caress him, only now he was propelling Quatre along the walk, occasionally stopping to whisper some new and useless fact in his ear. Quatre was nearly mad with desire by the time Trowa had him situated in front of one of the many telescopes scattered around the rim of the Tower.
Thinking this was his perfect opportunity to evade Trowa's innocent touches that were driving him insane, he looked up at his lover. "Will you lend me a credit so I can see the stars?" A small smile written across his face, Quatre watched amused as Trowa reached into his pocket for the credit card. He wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it; he, the richest man in the colonies, borrowing a single credit from an ex-circus performer; but at the same time it was nice to have Trowa do it for him. He didn't understand what he was doing, but as long as Trowa didn't seem to mind, he wasn't going to complain.
With a gentle push on his bottom, Trowa had him up the single step to the telescope before he reached around and inserted the card to pay for the view. Once Trowa stood back up, he placed his hands on Quatre's hips and pushed him a little closer towards the view.
The step up that Quatre had taken to reach the view had him at almost Trowa's exact height. His love took advantage of that, and rested his chin on his shoulder.
His voice was whisper soft. "Tell me what you see, Quatre."
A command, Quatre followed. Looking through the wide screen view, which was more like watching a vid-com, he saw thousands of stars lighting the late night sky.
"I see stars, thousands of them. They're beautiful; would you like to look?"
Trowa shook his head, his bangs brushing lightly against Quatre's cheek. "No, you tell me what you see; I'll just listen. Tell me what you see."
Quatre giggled softly, liking the game they were playing; it was nice to feel Trowa so close to him, feel his arms wrapped about him.
"Well, I see the little dipper, or maybe it's the big dipper, I'm not su-" he gasped; Trowa's hand had worked its way from his hip to once again play across the top of his pants. The silk of his shirt lended a sensual quality to the touch. "Trowa?"
"Tell me what you see, Quatre."
Confusion furrowed his brow, but he went with it, knowing Trowa would never hurt him-not ever.
"I-I think I see the little dipper, but it might be th-" Trowa's other hand had left his hip, and was now resting lightly in the valley between hip and thigh. He turned his head to look at him, "Trowa, what's-"
Gentle hands left the place they'd just come to rest before turning his head back towards the view. "Shhh, Quatre. Tell me what you see."
"Trowa, I don't-"
"Tell me what you see." Hands gently turned his head once again back towards the view, and Quatre took a ragged breath as Trowa's hands settled once again on his stomach.
"I don't know what I see. There're just stars, thousands of stars-" he threw his head back and into Trowa's shoulder as his lover moved his hands down to cup his sex.
Trowa gently chuckled in his ear. "Now that can't be all you see Quatre; tell me what you see."
He took a wavering breath, focusing on the view. "I see tons of stars and blackness. Trowa, we shouldn't-"
His hands flew from their place against the view box and quickly covered Trowa's, trying to pull them away from the zipper of his dress pants. "Trowa!"
But with one hand in each of his own, Trowa repositioned Quatre's hands along the hood of the view. "Quatre, unless you want everyone to know what I'm going to do to you, I suggest you keep your hands right there. Understood?"
Panic laced Quatre's voice. "Trowa-"
"Understood?" Trowa's voice wasn't mean or hard-just commanding-not like Quatre had ever heard before. He could only nod his head dumbly.
Trowa chuckled. "Look through the view, and tell me what you see."
The same phrase, over and over, the same command. It was so simple to answer and yet so hard. Quatre held his breath as Trowa's hands managed the zipper.
"Oh God, Trowa.we-we can't do this."
"Of course we can. Should we? I'm going to anyway. Let me do this for you, my Quatre." Trowa nuzzled his ear, and Quatre felt his body stir at the emotions running through is body. "Tell me what you see."
"I-I see stars-" He gritted his teeth together as his mysterious lover wrapped his warm hands around his rapidly stiffening length. A hard gasp issued from his lips as Trowa removed his shaft from its confines. His head thrown back, he almost missed what Trowa said.
"Tell me what you see."
Forcing his eyes open, he stared, sightless, through the view, hoping to see something and yet seeing nothing at all. "Stars."
"I like stars, Quatre. Would you like to know why?" One warm finger traced from base to head, making Quatre moan in need.
"Trowa!"
"Would you like to know why I like the stars so much, Quatre?"
He gasped; it was torture, and the thought of being discovered at any moment heightened his pleasure. He nodded his head.
"I like the stars because they remind me of you."
"Me?" He could barely make a coherent thought as Trowa began to slowly pump his length.
"You. I want to tell you why they remind me of you. Do you want to hear?"
"Yes!" Quatre tried to turn his head, tried to capture a kiss, but Trowa evaded his open mouth. His unoccupied hand gently put Quatre's head back into place, eyes facing the view.
"It's because they're perfect, beautiful. They twinkle only because they want to, only because they desire to make man happy. Do you agree?"
"Trowa, please!" Desperation clouded his voice; he knew that Trowa's soft voice and rough hands were going to be his undoing. "Trowa, I need-"
"Do you agree, Quatre? That they only twinkle to make man happy?"
"I-I don't know.Trowa." His partner increased both the pressure and the speed, and Quatre gasped and threw his head back against Trowa's shoulder, fighting desperately to stay as quiet as possible.
"Tell me what you see. Look through the view, and tell me what you see."
He tried to turn his head again, only to have Trowa push it right back towards the view. He was so close, and yet; a sudden fear washed over him. His mind didn't understand what Trowa was trying to do, and yet his body knew exactly. Confusion-he didn't know what was going on.
"Trowa, I don't-God-don't under-understand." His breath was coming out in short gasps, and he could hardly keep himself from thrusting against the slick friction.
"I want you to tell me what you see. That's what I want. It's what I want you to do. You have to tell me what you see. Tell me what you see, Quatre."
Exasperated and throbbing with need, he struggled to answer. "I don't see- see any-thing! They're just stars! I just see-see stars!"
Soft kisses fell across his neck, and Quatre couldn't help the thrust of his body at the contact.
"Stars?"
"Yes."
"Who owns the stars, Quatre?"
"What?!" What was Trowa talking about? His body tensed against the out of place question. Trowa's tightening hand and faster tempo lost him in a fog again. His body quaked, his knees weakened. Trowa's tongue slipped out to taste his neck.
"The stars, Quatre, who owns them?"
"No-no one."
"But you're just like the stars, aren't you? Isn't that what I told you already?"
Rough fingers worked like vices, and Quatre felt his eyes roll into the back of his head, his vision dancing with dark spots. He was so close, so close, and it was Trowa who had brought him here. That was all that mattered.
"Yes."
Quicksilver hand ran against soft firm flesh; pressure at a nearly intolerable level, Quatre wanted to cry.
"But that isn't right, is it, Quatre? No one owns the stars, but someone does own you, doesn't he?"
His breath had no pattern anymore, and strangled gasps were all he could manage. Trowa's words made it to his brain, but he couldn't process them, couldn't make any sense out of them. He didn't understand, what did Trowa want from him?
He let out a whimper.
"Shhh, Quatre. No one owns the stars. But I can't compare you to them, now can I? Because someone owns you, someone controls you. Who is that, Quatre, who controls you, who owns you?"
Quatre cried out softly, shaking his head back and forth. "I don't know! I-I don't-don't know!"
"Yes you do, Quatre. Who owns you? The stars don't need anyone to protect them, but you do. You need someone to protect you, to own you. Who is that? Who loves you enough to take care of you?"
Quatre was near weeping; his need was so overpowering. Trowa knew exactly how to hold him at the one spot where release was in sight, but not yet attainable. "Trowa, please, please."
"Tell me who loves you so much he'd be willing to risk everything to love you. Tell me who'll take care of you, who'll love you beyond death. Tell me what you see."
Eyes pressed painfully shut, hands in fists against the hood of the view, his body shaking with unreleased passion, Quatre felt tears fall from his eyes.
Then, with every ounce of strength he had left, he turned his head to the left and opened his eyes wide, looking at Trowa for the first time since this had begun. And he knew, knew what he saw.
"You Trowa. I see you."
Callused, rough fingers stroked down on him in one painfully swift motion, before encircling and squeezing the tip of his desire. Quatre shuttered and cried out, ignoring where he was, it didn't matter, he was with Trowa; Trowa would keep him safe now. He saw Trowa.
Trowa's smiling face went black as Quatre's world exploded at four simple words; one simple command.
"Come for me, Quatre."
His body jerked once, and again he called out his lover's name, called out to the heavens, thanking Allah with Trowa's name alone. His release flooded from his body, shaking him to the core as he leaned against his salvation, his lover, his kind and loving owner. Trowa.
It took a long while for his senses to return to him enough to realize that Trowa was completely supporting his weight. Long fingers brushed sweat soaked locks from his eyes, and he inhaled the musky scent of Trowa and release.
Not bothering to support his own weight, Quatre tipped his head and kissed the underside of Trowa's chin. Strong arms squeezed him tightly.
"You may decide: would you like to stand on your own, or would you like me to hold you a while longer?" A simple choice, one that didn't hold any consequences. Trowa had made the two choices clear, easy to understand, easy for Quatre to decide.
"Hold me a while longer, please?"
Trowa nodded before kissing the side of his neck, eliciting a soft moan from Quatre's lips.
"I love you, Quatre. You-will-believe that."
He nodded his head. Trowa would tell him, tell him what he needed to do. Trowa could be in control; he could bear the burden for a little while. He would just rest, just let Trowa make the decisions for a while.
It must be the leather pants.
"Tell me you love me, Quatre."
"I love you, Trowa."
He felt demanding lips cover his own, and Quatre opened his mouth to the plundering invasion he'd wanted all along. Trowa was strong, stronger than he was; Trowa could lead; he could take the lead for a while.
On shaky legs he stood, supported by the lean body of his beloved. Quatre turned in Trowa's arms, wrapping his hands behind Trowa's back, tucking his head under Trowa's chin.
"You're very strong, Trowa."
"I'm strong enough, Quatre. You rest now. I'll take over from here."
He nodded, feeling secure and warm in Trowa's strong embrace. He nuzzled closer, begging Trowa with touch alone to hold him tighter.
"It'll just be for a little while, Trowa. I'll just rest for a little while."
"Until I tell you different, Quatre. You will rest until I tell you different."
He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath; Trowa would tell him when the time was right, when he was better. Trowa would tell him.
He nodded his head, and Trowa pressed a loving kiss onto his forehead.
"I love you, Quatre."
"I love you too, Trowa."
He closed his eyes, fatigue coming over him. "I'm tired, Trowa. I want to sleep."
He didn't recognize that he had just admitted things to Trowa that he never would have before; it didn't matter. His mind told him that Trowa was strong enough, that Trowa was in control for now. His exhausted body told him that Trowa owned him, and for now, that was all right. He owned his sisters, and Trowa owned him, he owned Trowa, he was safe. Safe.
Trowa reached down and shouldered the wicker basket. Gently, he turned Quatre around, back towards the elevator. "Come Quatre. We'll meet Duo and Heero and go home. It's been a long day for you, beloved."
Quatre nodded his head, and to punctuate the point let out a very ungentlemanly yawn. He didn't see Trowa smile.
Tucked very tightly against Trowa's long body, Quatre rested his head against his chest and closed his eyes as they walked. Trowa would take care of him.
He wasn't sure how he got inside the elevator, but he could feel the gravity pulling at him as the glass enclosure sped at incredible speeds down the shaft. Opening his eyes, he saw Heero and Duo looking at him, worried expressions on their faces. He offered them a weak smile.
"Trowa says I have to rest. I'm just going to rest for a while." He saw them nod, and he turned his head towards Trowa, lifting his face to see the majestic look of power he saw in Trowa now. "Trowa?"
His lover looked down at him, kindness in his eyes. "Yes?"
"I thought of a name for your kitten."
Trowa looked at the bag he was carrying before looking back at him, a slight smile on his face.
"What name did you decide?"
He sighed, lowering his face to snuggle more firmly into Trowa's chest. "Star. Her name should be, Star."
Trowa turned and wrapped both arms around him, cradling him for the remainder of the ride. Trowa must have liked the name.
"How did he take it?"
"How would you expect?! I basically told the guy that I wanted to have a kid, then on top of that I suggested having a genetic, and then I said that I may just do the nasty with Relena! How would you feel, knowing that everything over the last five years has been building up to one kid, and your best friend throws it in your face that you can't even have a kid without destroying yourself? He didn't take it really well, Heero."
They were pulled over on the side of the road, carefully hidden should Trowa and Quatre drive by. They were discussing the day, and especially Duo's plan. Apparently it had worked.
"I just feel like such a bastard. He's my best friend, and all I did was throw this kid thing back into his face."
"You didn't have a choice. We needed to test this, to see if Quatre would really go to Trowa. If what you said is true, then Quatre was very upset. Knowing this, he should go to Trowa. We can only hope he does."
"Yeah, I know that; it's just that.I never wanted to hurt him, you know, and you should have seen his eyes. It was all in his eyes; his face was the same-a little stunned, but easily written off because of the subject. But his eyes, Heero, I hurt him really bad, I mean really, really bad, and he didn't say anything. In fact, all he did was answer my questions like a real gentleman, then he got up, took our dishes, and came back with a different subject. But his eyes held all this pain; when I started talking about Relena, it was as if he wanted to either run or punch me. Hell, I wish I had punched myself."
Heero reached around to encircle Duo's waist, pulling him forward and into his embrace. "I know how hard it was for you. Try to remember that this is how we can help Quatre. So much of this is dependent on Quatre, Trowa, and Corinne; we can only do what we're asked." He felt Duo nod his head in agreement. "We'll have to tell Trowa to be on the look out for Quatre to try and broach the subject of a child. Do you think he'll talk about it?"
Duo shrugged. "I don't know. He looked like it hurt him even to breathe. Maybe he will. I hope he does. I don't know, Heero, I just don't know anymore." Heero squeezed him a little more tightly. "Well, that's enough of that; there isn't anything more we can do today. What did Corinne have to say?"
Heero released Duo and sat back on the motorcycle. "Well she was pissed that the call got through, that's for sure."
"Yeah?"
He nodded. "She called down to the main security board and chewed them out for nearly ten minutes, saying she was Quatre's psychiatrist, and she'd given them a direct order. They closed the channel; nothing's getting through there again."
"Good. What else did she have to say? I know that Trowa wanted to talk to her about the sudden crash and burn of everything they'd worked on." He said it with an ounce of humor he didn't feel. His defense mechanism could hold out against the toughest OZ troops, but for his friend, they collapsed under the weight.
Heero noticed and took his hand, squeezing tightly. "She seems to think that the encounter with his sisters set him back quite a bit. Corinne said something about control issues. She said that Quatre may trust Trowa right now, but because Quatre was the one who defended them against his sisters, he still doesn't think that Trowa can take care of him. It's like, Quatre has to take care of Trowa; he has to stay in control, and now he can even tell Trowa what's upsetting him, but he won't allow Trowa to get involved, won't give him that much control over him. She seems to think that people like Quatre, who've been abused as children, often desire more control than others. Because Quatre's an empath, he's able to mask the rage he feels at the lack of control and turn it into concern. Like when Trowa played weak; it tapped into Quatre's need to be stronger than him, so he took care of Trowa, pushing his own fear and anger away-it's all in the way you look at it-control that is. Quatre being able to control his emotions are in some ways the only control he's ever had."
Duo nodded his head. "So what's Trowa suppose to do? Play weak and defenseless for the rest of his life?"
"The complete opposite. From now on, Trowa has to do everything he can to be in control. He has to go so far as to take charge of Quatre's life. Corinne thinks that if Quatre can see that Trowa can take charge and survive it, then maybe he'll realize that Trowa can take care of him. That and she planted another suggestion in his mind during the quick seconds they were linked. Quatre should be more susceptible to the way Trowa will be acting today. It's all really confusing, but I gather the control issue stems from the abuse in Quatre's past. I'm glad I'm not him-either one of them."
"Me too. But do you really think Trowa can pull this off? I mean, Trowa's been hurt, too, you know. He's always been the quiet one in the relationship. Can he really take charge of Quatre, control him to the point where Quatre will see and understand?" Doubt laced Duo's words.
"I think so-no! I know he will! He doesn't have a choice. That's the other thing Corinne said. It seems that Quatre flared the link while she and Trowa were together; it was probably during the time you were talking to him about the child. Corinne sensed the link through Trowa; it isn't good."
"What do you mean?"
"Quatre was very upset. He opened the link to Trowa to gather comfort. That means that he's still using Trowa's emotions instead of coming to him. But the bad part is that Corinne seems to think that Quatre, in that one moment, considered that Trowa couldn't protect him. She felt that he wanted Trowa by his side, but she then felt his doubt at Trowa being able to protect him-probably from your words. That's why we left the base; Trowa wanted to get to Quatre as soon as possible. The confusion in Quatre right now, because of this dual conflict of going to Trowa but thinking he can't protect him, is leading him towards some drastic measures. Corinne's not sure what could happen if Trowa doesn't force Quatre to understand."
"She doesn't think he'll try to do something stupid, does she? I mean she doesn't think he'll try to, you know, kill himself or anything." Heero didn't answer. "Oh God, Heero, he can't, he just can't! We've all lived through too much, seen too much! He can't let this end it, he just can't let it end this way!"
With a gentle tug, Heero had Duo situated in his lap. Carefully, he held him, knowing there was nothing he could really do except lend his presence to his lover and hope it would be enough. They stayed together for a few moments before Duo pulled away.
"We'd better get going; Quatre'll get nervous if we take too long."
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"No. I'm not. I won't be ok until Quatre's better and I kill each and every one of his sisters. I'm so glad I don't have family."
Heero said nothing, not knowing how to answer a statement he knew nothing about. Instead he started the motorcycle and gave Duo a hand back on. Together they sped away, back towards town, back towards Quatre.
* * *
"Duo! Heero! There you are! We were getting a little worried about you."
He and Trowa had parked the car a few blocks away from the café they'd stopped at the first time they'd been in town. They'd all agreed earlier that they'd meet at the café, get Duo some food, and then head out; it was four in the afternoon.
"Yeah, I know we're late, but you know how it is; I hadn't seen Heero in like five hours we had to get reacquainted." Duo sat down and pulled Heero onto his lap, wrapping a hand around his partner's inner thigh.
Quatre watched Trowa shake his head, a smile clearly imprinted on his lips. "Trowa! Don't encourage him."
"Why? I think it's funny."
Quatre rolled his eyes; it was going to be a long, long day.
They sat for about half an hour before Duo had completely satisfied his hunger for both food and Heero's mouth. Quatre couldn't help but flush at all the attention they were getting. Finally Trowa and Heero stood and took the dishes to the collector. They were gone for a few minutes, but Quatre saw them talking; Trowa often shaking his head yes or no. Then they returned, Trowa carrying an iced drink for Quatre. "I thought you might like this."
"Trowa! That was very nice of you. I was actually just thinking about grabbing something before we left. Thank you." It was an impulse, he leaned up on his tiptoes and kissed him, reveling in the feel of their lips pressed together. It was times like these, when they were together, out in public, that gave him the most joy-when he could show the world how happy they were together-in love.
Quatre took the drink and then picked up the wicker basket they'd placed the kitten in so she could travel with them and still be comfortable. Trowa had vetoed the car, saying it would get too hot for the small thing. They'd found a shop that sold bags and had purchased the wicker. It was shaped like a picnic basket, only it had a shoulder strap; Trowa figured it would work just fine.
"Um, Quatre, is there something you want to tell us?" Duo's voice held mock shock, and Quatre played along, liking the atmosphere about him; it was so much better than it had been, before with his sisters, and in this very place with Duo.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I understand the height thing between you and Trowa; and I know it's a very temperamental subject with you, but um, you're not going to buy a pair of high heels to go with that are you?" Duo indicated the bag. Quatre couldn't help but laugh, and neither could Trowa or Heero. It was so wonderful to see them all laughing; it felt so right, so perfect, like this was the way it was supposed to be.
Slowly, Quatre wiggled his finger for Duo to come closer, then with a great show, he opened the bag just a little to show his friend what was inside. Duo let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank God, I mean if you and Trowa are into that sort of thing, go for it, but um, don't make me buy panty hose, alright?" It took them another five minutes talking about how while Trowa would look beautiful in a green Kimono, they were not going there.
But an hour later found them in a men's shop. It was Duo who found the pair of pants first.
"QUATRE!!! Oh my God, you have to see these; you're going to flip!" Half dragged, Quatre followed Duo to a corner of the prestigious shop.
"Duo, what's gotten into you?"
"Nothing man, but these totally have to go on Trowa!" Duo held up a pair of black leather pants. The style was designed to fit extremely tight, and Quatre had to gulp as he imagined Trowa wearing them.
"You're-you're kidding, right?" His voice was weak, almost pleading.
"No way. Trowa would look so hot in these. He's all legs, can you just imagine?"
"Um, yeah, I don't think Trowa would like them too much; they're not really his style."
"What's not my style?"
Trowa had sneaked up on them, startling Quatre, who spun around to collide directly with Trowa's chest. He could have been in heaven and not taken notice; Trowa smelled so good.
"Um, Duo-Duo just found something, but I don't think you'll like them very much."
"What are they?"
Duo held up the pants like a prize trophy. "These, T. Can't you just imagine how Quatre will react to you in these hip huggers?" Duo wiggled his eyebrows, flashing brilliant white teeth.
Quatre shook his head. The pants weren't something Trowa would wear. It took a special person to pull off that type of look, someone who had a lot of power. Trowa would look hot, but his meek demeanor would clash with the style. He shook his head again. "Duo I already told you-"
"What size are they?"
"Trowa?!" He was stunned; these weren't words from his Trowa, the Trowa that only wore jeans and a few select shirts and sweaters.
"It'll be something different." He shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't bought a new pair of pants in a long time. Don't you think they'll look good on me?" He had a smile on his face; he already knew Quatre's answer.
"Of course they'll look good on you-too good! Are you sure?"
Trowa shrugged again, and then searched the rack for his size. Once he'd located it, they moved to the dressing room to try them on. On the way there he'd taken Quatre's hand and led him to the waiting area.
"Don't move."
Stunned at Trowa's commanding words, he had indeed stood right where he'd been told, simply watching the room Trowa would eventually come out of.
Sales clerks passed by and asked if they could help him, but he waved them on, never taking his eyes from the wooden doors. Patiently he waited for Trowa to emerge. "Hey Q, what do you think of this shirt?"
He turned his head to the left and saw Duo holding up a Hawaiian shirt against Heero's chest, the slightly shorter boy was rolling his eyes, obviously doing his best not to kill his lover.
"Don't be cruel, Duo. Heero hasn't been that mean to you."
"Are you kidding?! Just for that, Heero, go buy this shirt!"
"Duo no Baka!"
Quatre ignored their antics and turned back to the wood doors. But the door was open, and in the doorway stood a sight from some dream.
Without his shirt on, Trowa stood wearing only the leather pants. His shoes were off, and even his socks had been removed. To say he looked good enough to devour would have been an understatement. For some reason Trowa wore the pants well, eliciting a rebel without a cause look. His hair fell dangerously in his face, and Quatre found it hard to breathe for a moment.
"What do you think?"
Did he actually want him to speak? Was he truly not able to read the expression on his face?
"Um, Trowa, you look-you look-wow!"
"I take it you like them then."
Quatre heard the humor in Trowa's voice and knew he was being teased. Suddenly he felt like giving back a little, he smiled wickedly.
"I like them a lot; in fact, I love them on you. You look very, very, very sexy in them." Quatre had taken a step with each 'very', and now stood directly in front of Trowa. Raising his hands, he rested them on his lover's chest, laying them across his nipples. "You look good enough to eat, lover." It was so out of character for Quatre, that he saw Trowa's eyes grow huge, his pupils dilating to almost painful levels. He leaned up, and nipped at the underside of Trowa's chin. "Will you wear them out for me? I want to show you off in them?" He nearly purred, and he saw Trowa gulp in response.
"If you'd like."
"Oh yeah, I'd like-very-much."
One pair of leather pants-worn out-and one Hawaiian shirt-stuffed into the bottom of an unmarked sack-later, and they were back out on the street. Quatre couldn't help it, it was such a turn on to see Trowa dressed like this; he seemed so.strong and tough, like he could take on the world and win. With urgent hands, Quatre wrapped an arm securely about his lover's waist, wanting the world to know that Trowa belonged to him, and only him. They didn't usually engage in such public displays, but today, Quatre felt the need to mark Trowa as his and just as importantly, show the world that he belonged to Trowa. Especially that he belonged to Trowa.
"Well, where to now?"
Quatre allowed his hand to slip down, his fingertips resting lightly on Trowa's hip, his palm possessively resting on his ass. It didn't escape Trowa's attention as he pulled Quatre closer to him, dropping a sweet kiss on his lips before shrugging his shoulders at Duo. Passing them, people stared at the two couples so obviously together. Quatre was in heaven- first leather pants, then Trowa's extra special attention to him-now he knew why his sisters had wanted boyfriends so badly. He pushed the thought of his sisters out of his mind almost the second it entered; he wasn't going to allow them to ruin this moment.
"I don't know. We could just walk, see where it takes us?"
They agreed, and together, they walked down the street, window shopping and occasionally entering a store or two. The whole time, even in the stores, he never let go of Trowa, and to his amazement, Trowa would often pull him closer if he tried to pull away to look at something, only to walk with him to investigate the curious item. He liked this very, very much!
Out on the street again, a small shop caught his eye. "Look, Trowa, it's an art gallery. I've been looking for a new painting to hang in the living room. Can we go look?" He looked to Trowa for an answer and thought it very weird that he'd be asking permission; he just assumed it was the leather pants.
Trowa nodded. "If you'd like, I wouldn't mind if we went in."
"Great! Duo, Heero, are you coming?"
"Yeah, we'll be right behind you. Heero wants to check out the next shop. We'll meet you there in a few minutes."
"Sure, come on, Trowa." Together they crossed the street and entered the cool dark shop.
All around them were grand paintings. The shop was small but also well stocked. Quatre imagined that it probably held a decent selection. He was surprised when Trowa pulled him towards a painting on the far wall.
"We'll start from the beginning. That last shop Heero wanted to look at was a computer store; he'll be in there for a while." Trowa squeezed his shoulders but did not let go.
It crossed Quatre's mind that this was one store where their relationship could result in unfair treatment. No doubt the owners were used to high society coming in and examining their wares; they weren't likely to be tolerant of the two of them. But Trowa knew this-at least Quatre thought he did-so when he made no move to separate from him, he decided to just go with it, not caring what a bunch of snobs thought; as long as they didn't say anything to Trowa.
For half an hour they walked among the make-believe and surreal. They examined paintings and sculptures alike. Some would catch their attention, while others they'd pass by with little more than a glance. Some Quatre liked, and others Trowa. At peace with one another, they strolled the displays.
It wasn't until their kitten started to meow that Trowa removed his arm from about his shoulder, and Quatre felt slightly disappointed at its disappearance. The poor little thing was in a slight bit of pain, and Trowa told Quatre to wait here while he went back to the car for the medicine the vet had given them.
"Are you sure? I'll come with you."
"No, wait here until Duo and Heero come. I'll be back in a few minutes. Will you be alright?"
Trowa's concern touched him deeply-more than it usually did-he blamed the leather pants.
"Sure. I'll just wait here like a good little boy while you go off and leave me for a kitten. It's all right, I understand, she is cuter than I am." He pretended to pout, and was startled out of his mind when Trowa leaned in and caught his protruding lip between his teeth. The kiss was nothing short of breathtaking, and Quatre was breathing heavily when Trowa pulled away.
"Ten minutes-don't go anywhere." Quatre nodded his head; he didn't have the voice to say much of anything. He watched Trowa leave before he blushed crimson and turned back to the paintings, hoping no one had noticed and yet praying that they all had.
He was on the other side of the room looking at a beautiful nude of a very tall man holding his clothes in one hand and a hat in the other. It had caught his eye the first time, and though he knew it wasn't a piece for their home, he did want to look at it again.
"Mr. Winner?"
Turning his head, he noticed a middle-aged couple standing next to him. They looked instantly familiar, but he couldn't seem to place them.
"I'm sorry; Captain Utooll-we worked on a committee together-to restore water to the outlying L2 colonies."
Recognition clicked in, and Quatre was almost ashamed of his forgetfulness. "I'm the one that should be sorry, Captain. You looked so familiar; you will please forgive me."
"Of course my boy. I understand, a busy young man like you. It's no problem at all." The woman beside him cleared her throat. "Oh where are my manners? Mr. Winner, my wife, Gesset Utooll."
Quatre took her hand and laid a light kiss on it. "A pleasure to meet you Mrs. Utooll. Please call me Quatre; as well as you Captain."
"Oh it's such a pleasure to meet you too, Quatre. George has told me so much about you. He was greatly impressed by your skill with the other members of that dreadful committee. He was very thankful to have you on his side."
"It was a very righteous cause; how could I take the opposite side? But please, you give me too much credit; your husband brought with him the entire military force, without which we would have surely lost the proposal." It had been over a year ago when Duo had brought to his attention the proposal to bring in fresh water to the colonies of L2. Duo, having been orphaned there, had thought Quatre could help; he, of course, had done all he could, and thankfully it had worked.
"You're very kind, Quatre. Gesset and I were just admiring the paintings when I thought I recognized you. I hope we're not disturbing you too much."
"No, of course not. I'm waiting for some friends before we continue shopping."
"Oh wonderful then, perhaps-" But Mrs. Utooll was cut off by a shrill cry.
"QUATRE!!!" Duo ran around the paintings, nearly running into half of them, before grabbing Quatre about the shoulders and swinging behind him, cringing in fear.
"Duo, what's going on?" He was completely flustered. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his friend, but Duo had a way of doing the worst things, at the worst possible times. Quatre was beginning to understand Heero's frustration.
Suddenly Duo dropped to his knees behind him and wrapped his arms about his waist, burying his head nearly between his lower cheeks.
"DUO!"
"He's after me! Heero's going to kill me! I didn't mean it, I was only looking at the keyboards; how was I suppose to know that the holokeys were connected to the entire store? I didn't mean it either; I was just joking around; I swear it! It was totally innocent, Quatre, you have to believe me!"
"Oh god, what did you do?" He turned pleading eyes on the Captain and his wife, begging that they forgive him for the disruption; but the couple seemed stunned and amused by the braided baka's antics.
"I just typed a really simple message, you know, to let Heero know I love him; how was I suppose to know it'd show up on all the monitors?!"
He was afraid to ask. "Duo, just how appropriate was the message you typed?" He nearly killed himself for asking.
"I just typed that I loved him."
"And."
His voice was very small. "And that I was going to tie him up and-"
"Duo! I get the idea!" He buried his face in his hands, completely and utterly embarrassed. The Captain was never going to speak to him again, and that was only if he didn't get thrown out of the establishment completely.
But it only got worse. Suddenly, Duo realized that he'd been talking with another couple, add that to his earlier realization that he was in a very ritzy art shop, and Duo was on his feet in a moment. Hands at his sides, he wore the biggest smile, and his face was flushed bright scarlet.
In a horrible stage whisper, he said to Quatre, "I am-so-sorry." Quatre could only roll his eyes and pray.
"Captain and Mrs. Utooll, this is my friend Duo; Duo, this is Captain Utooll and his wife Mrs. Utooll."
Duo lifted his hand, most dramatically. "It's such a pleasure to meet you. I've heard so much about you both." Quatre shook his head, eyes closed, and brought his hand to his temple. Leave it to Duo to screw up even an introduction.
He was surprised when Mrs. Utooll reached out her hand and shook Duo's. "It's a great pleasure to meet you as well, Duo. I'm afraid I don't know Quatre all that well, but I'm sure if I did he would have talked non-stop about you."
"Well you know, I'm an interesting guy." Quatre could have killed him.
Suddenly Duo was ducking behind him again. "Quatre look, I know I totally ruined this thing for you, but Heero's really going to kill me. Got a place to hide, buddy? You know what I always say: 'I run, I hide, but I never tell a lie.' I especially like the hiding part right now."
Quatre closed his eyes and pointed towards the back. "There's a service door in the back. Do me a favor, though."
"Anything."
"Go quietly and slowly, don't kill anyone, and please, please don't tell anyone we're friends, understand?"
"Go it! Not friends-hey! Wait a minute!"
"Here comes Heero."
"Oh man, gotta split. I'll see ya later." And with that, Duo was gone. Quatre wanted to curl up and die of embarrassment. But it wasn't over yet.
"Quatre, have you seen that baka?"
Quatre shook his head in exasperation. "Heero, this is Captain and Mrs. Utooll; Sir, Madam, this is my other friend Heero."
Heero nodded in their general direction, continuing to scan the room for signs of Duo. "Then he was here. Where's he hiding? I'm going to kill him!"
Quatre smiled a horribly pained smile before pointing in the direction Duo had gone. "He used the service door. I suggest you go find him, but Heero?"
"Hn?"
"Don't make a mess when you kill him, please, for me?" His voice must have belied his exasperation because Heero only smiled and gave him a nod before he was gone.
Quatre turned back to the couple. "I'm so terribly sorry. I assure you, they're not always like this." But Mrs. Utooll was using her hand to stifle her laughter, and even the Captain was trying to hide a smirk.
"Please, Quatre, I don't think I've ever had such a grand time at an art gallery before. You've made this mundane trip to please my wife a most joyous experience."
Quatre offered him a weak smile; there was little else for him to do.
"Quatre, are you alright?"
And then Trowa was beside him, the wicker bag resting on his muscular shoulder, leather pants reflecting a dull sheen from the light. He was saved.
"Captain Utooll, Mrs. Utooll, this is my partner Trowa Barton; Trowa this is Captain Utooll and his wife. You remember I worked with the Captain on the L2 water committee?"
Trowa nodded his head before shaking hands with the couple.
"Your partner? Tell me Mr. Barton, what company do you own?"
Suddenly, Quatre felt sick to his stomach. How in the world was he going to explain this one? He looked to Trowa for support; but realized immediately that Trowa would never interfere with his business partners; he'd have to figure a way out of this on his own.
He was about to say something when Mrs. Utooll save him. "George, not-that- type of partner." She emphasized the word 'that', and Quatre could feel the apprehension rise along with the Captain's eyebrows.
"Oh," was all he said.
"Mr. Barton, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. We were just telling Quatre that we'd been looking around the gallery when my husband recognized him."
"Yes, quite right, I think perhaps it's the hair, my boy, very unusual shade of near white."
"George! Ignore him, he has the tact of a potato." They laughed, and the tension broke around them. Quatre decided immediately that he like Gesset Utooll very much.
They talked for a few more minutes, before Gesset asked if he'd be interested in seeing her choice that day. He agreed and left Trowa and the Captain to their conversation on Mecha engines.
The piece was a beautiful landscape painted in watercolors. "It reminds me of something my son made when he was about your age. He was a very good painter; I always thought he should have made a career out of it."
"He chose a different path?"
She paused, and Quatre was taken aback to see tears gleaming in her eyes. "He died during the war. Mondal was his name, my eldest. He was only twenty-three." She dabbed at the tears in her eyes with a handkerchief he handed her. "Thank you very much."
"I'm sorry I've brought up such sad memories."
"Oh no, it's nice to think of Mondal painting; he always enjoyed it so much. Actually you yourself look a little like him; that's why George made the comment about your hair. Mondal had almost white hair as well. I hope you don't mind."
"Mind? Of course not. I'm honored to be compared."
She smiled at him. "Quatre, I hope you don't think me rude for saying this, but I've heard of your recent-shall we say, disappearance-from the public eye. Again I hope you don't think me rude, but I was told it was due to a rather public display of your partner, Mr. Barton."
Not knowing what else to do, he nodded his head.
The middle-aged woman sighed. "It's positively dreadful to think that man has come so far and yet hardly moved at all. The only reason I bring it up is to offer you a word of advice." Quatre looked at her fully, uncertainty in his eyes. "My son, Mondal he also had a partner, a man he was very, very fond of. In fact I was assured that once he returned from his term of service I'd be planning a wedding. George and I were both very excited, but in truth, nervous about the public backlash. I wish with all my heart that I could go back in time and offer him a little more encouragement. I think he would have liked to have known how proud of him his father and I were. We unfortunately never got the chance." She placed a light hand on his arm. "It must be terribly hard for you right now. But I'd like you to consider George and myself as friends." She gave him a bright smile. "Should we ever attend the same function again, I'd hope you and Mr. Barton would share a table with us; it'd be such an honor."
Quatre could barely contain the emotions inside of him. He'd never really considered the rest of the world understanding his and Trowa's relationship, especially not after the Winter party. But here before him was one woman who would stand against the masses for him, who believed in love over everything else. His voice was thick with emotion when he used it. "Thank you very much, Gesset; I don't think you know quite what your words mean to me."
"Oh my dear, it's truly nothing, only the truth. I would ask one favor, though." "What's that?"
"Please don't bring your other friends." She smiled to let him know she was kidding, and together they laughed. The world was good today there was hope.
Finally, after Gesset had purchased her painting, the two couples stood outside the gallery doors; both held hands.
"I do hope we meet again soon, Quatre. Please take care of yourself."
"I will, and you as well. Captain, I'll be in touch with you over that newest proposal."
"Very good. Have a nice evening, both of you."
"Thank you, good day." Trowa squeezed his hand, and together they walked down the street.
"They seemed very nice."
"Trowa, they were possibly the nicest people I've ever met." And Quatre was not kidding.
They met up with Heero and Duo a few streets down and then continued to the restaurant they'd chosen earlier. Once again, Quatre had his hand clearly marking himself as Trowa's. There was more confidence in his step, and he loved the looks they received; they were music together, and he wanted the entire world to know it.
Inside the fanciest restaurant in town, they were immediately shown to a beautiful table in a corner on the deck. The sky was just starting to turn dark, and the candles on the table offered just the right amount of romantic lighting for the occasion.
The four of them had come here before. In fact they'd often eaten here before things had gone bad with his sisters. Quatre pushed that thought from his mind, focusing on the heated debate Duo and Heero were having over which fork to use first. Quatre smiled.
"What are you smiling about?" Trowa's voice was hushed, mingling well with the atmosphere around them.
"I was just thinking about you; nothing special." He smiled brighter, eliciting an equally as bright smile from his beloved.
The waiter came then and took their orders, but it was Trowa who surprised him yet again.
Whenever they came, he usually ordered the same thing, and tonight was going to be no different; he'd already told Trowa when they'd settled into their seats. He didn't expect what happened next.
The waiter took everyone's order and then turned to Quatre. He was about to say the Lobster d'la Crème, but surprisingly Trowa beat him to it.
"He'll be having the Lobster d'la Crème. Please no saffron, and a glass of Shavanon Seven." It was his exact order; Trowa had remembered. He smiled at Trowa before taking his hand under the table.
"Thank you."
Trowa only smiled and squeezed his hand back.
He couldn't explain the feeling he had for the rest of the meal. At every turn, Trowa seemed to stand out from the shadow he usually stood in, and was instead standing in the light, proudly displaying Quatre for everyone to see. He didn't understand why it made him so very happy to know that Trowa was doing all of these wonderful things for him, but he wasn't going to question him. It felt so right to have Trowa lead for a while. He'd missed what it felt like to simply follow. With Koeran he'd had no choice but to follow, barely knowing anything, and being afraid of everything. With Trowa he'd always been the one to make decisions. He found he liked it both ways, but right now, it just felt right to allow Trowa to lead him. So very, very right.
After dinner and dessert, they chatted for a few minutes before leaving the restaurant and heading for a popular tourist attraction.
The Kilazian Towers rose above the town nearly three hundred stories. They were a beautiful mark of expert architecture. He and Trowa had been to the top once, and they were both eager to visit again. The night air was chilly, and Trowa had him securely against him, offering body heat. Their little kitten was sleeping and had since Trowa had given her another dose of medicine. She hadn't uttered a sound all evening.
The elevator ride to the top was amazing as the enclosure was made entirely from glass. One could see for miles round, and Quatre felt his excitement grow at reaching the top. The elevator operator told them that the Tower was almost empty because of the festival they hadn't known was in a different part of town. That suited the two couples very nicely.
Together they stepped off the elevator just as three other couples were stepping on. A quick tour showed that over the wide expanse, only three other couples remained on the top floor. Splitting up, he and Trowa moved away from the rising moon, back towards the dark corner of the roof, it was easier to see stars from there.
Quatre leaned against the railing, gazing into the night sky. "It's so beautiful here. I don't understand why anyone would want to destroy it."
"Some people think that the Earth is nothing more than a breeding ground for suffering. In that light it's easy to see why terrorists attack it."
"But it seems so wrong. People that are born here, raised here, don't understand just how wondrous this planet is. I can remember looking at it from my bedroom window, wondering what it would be like to visit, or maybe even live here. I was always jealous of Cijen; she got to study dance here; what an amazing place to study dance." His brain barely registered that he'd said her name. He felt protected here, standing next to Trowa; as if nothing could harm him if he just stayed close to him. Such a strange feeling.
"Trowa?"
"Hn?"
"Do you feel different tonight? Like something is different, odd, but good at the same time?"
Trowa shook his head. "I hadn't noticed anything, why?"
"It's nothing. I was just wondering." Trowa moved to stand behind him, his hand wrapped about him, settling the palm against his stomach, his fingers brushing across his light shirt, over and over. Quatre closed his eyes; the emotions coming from those simple touches were almost too much. He'd craved Trowa for so long, wanting him to be the one; and now that he was, he wanted to constantly reaffirm that idea in his head.
Strong fingers, now whispers, danced across the silk of his shirt. He took in a deep breath, hoping Trowa would understand what he was doing to him. But the added oxygen only made him even more light headed as Trowa continued to casually play across his stomach.
Then he hit a sensitive part, and Quatre's stomach muscles contracted; he had to stop Trowa right away. "Trowa."
"Hn?"
Once light fingers became more insistent, increasing pressure against his skin.
"Trowa.maybe we should walk a little." Anything to keep him from this.
"If you'd like." But Trowa's hand continued to caress him, only now he was propelling Quatre along the walk, occasionally stopping to whisper some new and useless fact in his ear. Quatre was nearly mad with desire by the time Trowa had him situated in front of one of the many telescopes scattered around the rim of the Tower.
Thinking this was his perfect opportunity to evade Trowa's innocent touches that were driving him insane, he looked up at his lover. "Will you lend me a credit so I can see the stars?" A small smile written across his face, Quatre watched amused as Trowa reached into his pocket for the credit card. He wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it; he, the richest man in the colonies, borrowing a single credit from an ex-circus performer; but at the same time it was nice to have Trowa do it for him. He didn't understand what he was doing, but as long as Trowa didn't seem to mind, he wasn't going to complain.
With a gentle push on his bottom, Trowa had him up the single step to the telescope before he reached around and inserted the card to pay for the view. Once Trowa stood back up, he placed his hands on Quatre's hips and pushed him a little closer towards the view.
The step up that Quatre had taken to reach the view had him at almost Trowa's exact height. His love took advantage of that, and rested his chin on his shoulder.
His voice was whisper soft. "Tell me what you see, Quatre."
A command, Quatre followed. Looking through the wide screen view, which was more like watching a vid-com, he saw thousands of stars lighting the late night sky.
"I see stars, thousands of them. They're beautiful; would you like to look?"
Trowa shook his head, his bangs brushing lightly against Quatre's cheek. "No, you tell me what you see; I'll just listen. Tell me what you see."
Quatre giggled softly, liking the game they were playing; it was nice to feel Trowa so close to him, feel his arms wrapped about him.
"Well, I see the little dipper, or maybe it's the big dipper, I'm not su-" he gasped; Trowa's hand had worked its way from his hip to once again play across the top of his pants. The silk of his shirt lended a sensual quality to the touch. "Trowa?"
"Tell me what you see, Quatre."
Confusion furrowed his brow, but he went with it, knowing Trowa would never hurt him-not ever.
"I-I think I see the little dipper, but it might be th-" Trowa's other hand had left his hip, and was now resting lightly in the valley between hip and thigh. He turned his head to look at him, "Trowa, what's-"
Gentle hands left the place they'd just come to rest before turning his head back towards the view. "Shhh, Quatre. Tell me what you see."
"Trowa, I don't-"
"Tell me what you see." Hands gently turned his head once again back towards the view, and Quatre took a ragged breath as Trowa's hands settled once again on his stomach.
"I don't know what I see. There're just stars, thousands of stars-" he threw his head back and into Trowa's shoulder as his lover moved his hands down to cup his sex.
Trowa gently chuckled in his ear. "Now that can't be all you see Quatre; tell me what you see."
He took a wavering breath, focusing on the view. "I see tons of stars and blackness. Trowa, we shouldn't-"
His hands flew from their place against the view box and quickly covered Trowa's, trying to pull them away from the zipper of his dress pants. "Trowa!"
But with one hand in each of his own, Trowa repositioned Quatre's hands along the hood of the view. "Quatre, unless you want everyone to know what I'm going to do to you, I suggest you keep your hands right there. Understood?"
Panic laced Quatre's voice. "Trowa-"
"Understood?" Trowa's voice wasn't mean or hard-just commanding-not like Quatre had ever heard before. He could only nod his head dumbly.
Trowa chuckled. "Look through the view, and tell me what you see."
The same phrase, over and over, the same command. It was so simple to answer and yet so hard. Quatre held his breath as Trowa's hands managed the zipper.
"Oh God, Trowa.we-we can't do this."
"Of course we can. Should we? I'm going to anyway. Let me do this for you, my Quatre." Trowa nuzzled his ear, and Quatre felt his body stir at the emotions running through is body. "Tell me what you see."
"I-I see stars-" He gritted his teeth together as his mysterious lover wrapped his warm hands around his rapidly stiffening length. A hard gasp issued from his lips as Trowa removed his shaft from its confines. His head thrown back, he almost missed what Trowa said.
"Tell me what you see."
Forcing his eyes open, he stared, sightless, through the view, hoping to see something and yet seeing nothing at all. "Stars."
"I like stars, Quatre. Would you like to know why?" One warm finger traced from base to head, making Quatre moan in need.
"Trowa!"
"Would you like to know why I like the stars so much, Quatre?"
He gasped; it was torture, and the thought of being discovered at any moment heightened his pleasure. He nodded his head.
"I like the stars because they remind me of you."
"Me?" He could barely make a coherent thought as Trowa began to slowly pump his length.
"You. I want to tell you why they remind me of you. Do you want to hear?"
"Yes!" Quatre tried to turn his head, tried to capture a kiss, but Trowa evaded his open mouth. His unoccupied hand gently put Quatre's head back into place, eyes facing the view.
"It's because they're perfect, beautiful. They twinkle only because they want to, only because they desire to make man happy. Do you agree?"
"Trowa, please!" Desperation clouded his voice; he knew that Trowa's soft voice and rough hands were going to be his undoing. "Trowa, I need-"
"Do you agree, Quatre? That they only twinkle to make man happy?"
"I-I don't know.Trowa." His partner increased both the pressure and the speed, and Quatre gasped and threw his head back against Trowa's shoulder, fighting desperately to stay as quiet as possible.
"Tell me what you see. Look through the view, and tell me what you see."
He tried to turn his head again, only to have Trowa push it right back towards the view. He was so close, and yet; a sudden fear washed over him. His mind didn't understand what Trowa was trying to do, and yet his body knew exactly. Confusion-he didn't know what was going on.
"Trowa, I don't-God-don't under-understand." His breath was coming out in short gasps, and he could hardly keep himself from thrusting against the slick friction.
"I want you to tell me what you see. That's what I want. It's what I want you to do. You have to tell me what you see. Tell me what you see, Quatre."
Exasperated and throbbing with need, he struggled to answer. "I don't see- see any-thing! They're just stars! I just see-see stars!"
Soft kisses fell across his neck, and Quatre couldn't help the thrust of his body at the contact.
"Stars?"
"Yes."
"Who owns the stars, Quatre?"
"What?!" What was Trowa talking about? His body tensed against the out of place question. Trowa's tightening hand and faster tempo lost him in a fog again. His body quaked, his knees weakened. Trowa's tongue slipped out to taste his neck.
"The stars, Quatre, who owns them?"
"No-no one."
"But you're just like the stars, aren't you? Isn't that what I told you already?"
Rough fingers worked like vices, and Quatre felt his eyes roll into the back of his head, his vision dancing with dark spots. He was so close, so close, and it was Trowa who had brought him here. That was all that mattered.
"Yes."
Quicksilver hand ran against soft firm flesh; pressure at a nearly intolerable level, Quatre wanted to cry.
"But that isn't right, is it, Quatre? No one owns the stars, but someone does own you, doesn't he?"
His breath had no pattern anymore, and strangled gasps were all he could manage. Trowa's words made it to his brain, but he couldn't process them, couldn't make any sense out of them. He didn't understand, what did Trowa want from him?
He let out a whimper.
"Shhh, Quatre. No one owns the stars. But I can't compare you to them, now can I? Because someone owns you, someone controls you. Who is that, Quatre, who controls you, who owns you?"
Quatre cried out softly, shaking his head back and forth. "I don't know! I-I don't-don't know!"
"Yes you do, Quatre. Who owns you? The stars don't need anyone to protect them, but you do. You need someone to protect you, to own you. Who is that? Who loves you enough to take care of you?"
Quatre was near weeping; his need was so overpowering. Trowa knew exactly how to hold him at the one spot where release was in sight, but not yet attainable. "Trowa, please, please."
"Tell me who loves you so much he'd be willing to risk everything to love you. Tell me who'll take care of you, who'll love you beyond death. Tell me what you see."
Eyes pressed painfully shut, hands in fists against the hood of the view, his body shaking with unreleased passion, Quatre felt tears fall from his eyes.
Then, with every ounce of strength he had left, he turned his head to the left and opened his eyes wide, looking at Trowa for the first time since this had begun. And he knew, knew what he saw.
"You Trowa. I see you."
Callused, rough fingers stroked down on him in one painfully swift motion, before encircling and squeezing the tip of his desire. Quatre shuttered and cried out, ignoring where he was, it didn't matter, he was with Trowa; Trowa would keep him safe now. He saw Trowa.
Trowa's smiling face went black as Quatre's world exploded at four simple words; one simple command.
"Come for me, Quatre."
His body jerked once, and again he called out his lover's name, called out to the heavens, thanking Allah with Trowa's name alone. His release flooded from his body, shaking him to the core as he leaned against his salvation, his lover, his kind and loving owner. Trowa.
It took a long while for his senses to return to him enough to realize that Trowa was completely supporting his weight. Long fingers brushed sweat soaked locks from his eyes, and he inhaled the musky scent of Trowa and release.
Not bothering to support his own weight, Quatre tipped his head and kissed the underside of Trowa's chin. Strong arms squeezed him tightly.
"You may decide: would you like to stand on your own, or would you like me to hold you a while longer?" A simple choice, one that didn't hold any consequences. Trowa had made the two choices clear, easy to understand, easy for Quatre to decide.
"Hold me a while longer, please?"
Trowa nodded before kissing the side of his neck, eliciting a soft moan from Quatre's lips.
"I love you, Quatre. You-will-believe that."
He nodded his head. Trowa would tell him, tell him what he needed to do. Trowa could be in control; he could bear the burden for a little while. He would just rest, just let Trowa make the decisions for a while.
It must be the leather pants.
"Tell me you love me, Quatre."
"I love you, Trowa."
He felt demanding lips cover his own, and Quatre opened his mouth to the plundering invasion he'd wanted all along. Trowa was strong, stronger than he was; Trowa could lead; he could take the lead for a while.
On shaky legs he stood, supported by the lean body of his beloved. Quatre turned in Trowa's arms, wrapping his hands behind Trowa's back, tucking his head under Trowa's chin.
"You're very strong, Trowa."
"I'm strong enough, Quatre. You rest now. I'll take over from here."
He nodded, feeling secure and warm in Trowa's strong embrace. He nuzzled closer, begging Trowa with touch alone to hold him tighter.
"It'll just be for a little while, Trowa. I'll just rest for a little while."
"Until I tell you different, Quatre. You will rest until I tell you different."
He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath; Trowa would tell him when the time was right, when he was better. Trowa would tell him.
He nodded his head, and Trowa pressed a loving kiss onto his forehead.
"I love you, Quatre."
"I love you too, Trowa."
He closed his eyes, fatigue coming over him. "I'm tired, Trowa. I want to sleep."
He didn't recognize that he had just admitted things to Trowa that he never would have before; it didn't matter. His mind told him that Trowa was strong enough, that Trowa was in control for now. His exhausted body told him that Trowa owned him, and for now, that was all right. He owned his sisters, and Trowa owned him, he owned Trowa, he was safe. Safe.
Trowa reached down and shouldered the wicker basket. Gently, he turned Quatre around, back towards the elevator. "Come Quatre. We'll meet Duo and Heero and go home. It's been a long day for you, beloved."
Quatre nodded his head, and to punctuate the point let out a very ungentlemanly yawn. He didn't see Trowa smile.
Tucked very tightly against Trowa's long body, Quatre rested his head against his chest and closed his eyes as they walked. Trowa would take care of him.
He wasn't sure how he got inside the elevator, but he could feel the gravity pulling at him as the glass enclosure sped at incredible speeds down the shaft. Opening his eyes, he saw Heero and Duo looking at him, worried expressions on their faces. He offered them a weak smile.
"Trowa says I have to rest. I'm just going to rest for a while." He saw them nod, and he turned his head towards Trowa, lifting his face to see the majestic look of power he saw in Trowa now. "Trowa?"
His lover looked down at him, kindness in his eyes. "Yes?"
"I thought of a name for your kitten."
Trowa looked at the bag he was carrying before looking back at him, a slight smile on his face.
"What name did you decide?"
He sighed, lowering his face to snuggle more firmly into Trowa's chest. "Star. Her name should be, Star."
Trowa turned and wrapped both arms around him, cradling him for the remainder of the ride. Trowa must have liked the name.