Chapter Fifteen

Quatre sighed quietly as he rolled over. Why couldn't he sleep?

Wufei had invited them all to stay over for the night before they left the next day. Iria and Catherine were staying in his older sister's room as she was at university until the holidays. Mr. Winner was in the slightly smaller guest room, leaving Quatre and Trowa in the other guest room.

Alone.

Together.

In the double bed.

So why wasn't he all right with this? It wasn't like they'd never shared a bed before.

Quatre blushed slightly remembering how he had woken up in that situation. It was only this morning after all, but it seemed like so long ago. /I wonder what he must think of that?/ It was strange to be wondering about that now, but strange thoughts tended to plague the blonde boy at night when sleep eluded him.

"Who thinks of what?" Quatre sat up, eyes wide, and stared at the not-quite-asleep boy from whose lips those drowsy words were uttered. Trowa opened one emerald eyes to look at the staring boy. "Quatre? Something wrong?"

"I thought you were asleep."

"Is that an accusation?"

"I … well … not exactly. Is something bothering you?"

"Didn't I ask you the same question?"

"I guess. I was just thinking."

"Aloud."

Quatre looked a bit sheepish. "Sometimes I do that when I can't sleep. I don't even realise I'm doing it most of the time."

"Why can't you sleep?"

"I don't really know." Quatre frowned slightly, his forehead creasing adorably in concentration.

"Do you feel uncomfortable?" Trowa had sat up too and was looking at his companion in concern.

"I don't know." Quatre shook his head and smiled brilliantly at his friend. "It's probably nothing, I'll get to sleep eventually."

Trowa was still looking at him anxiously. "Well, I'm not really that sleepy either, so I'll stay up and talk for a bit if you want."

"Sure."

Silence reigned over the bedroom as the two boys glanced at each other in embarrassment. The sound of a clock ticking and the distant sound of a leaky tap dripping did nothing to dispel the awkwardness.

"Why don't we play a game?" Quatre asked innocently after a time.

Trowa nearly choked on the implications of that statement. "Sure. What would you like to do?"

"Um ... not sure." What sort of games could be played at two am on a Sunday morning. Quatre blushed at the thought and cleared his throat, hoping that Trowa hadn't seen the tinge of red on his cheeks. He had, but Trowa was prudent enough not to mention it.

"Truth or dare?" Quatre finally suggested.

"Do you really think that everyone would be very pleased if we did dares at this hour?" Trowa asked wisely, thinking it through. "I'm already in enough trouble as it is."

"You're right, I wasn't thinking. How about just 'truth' then?"

Trowa looked at him, wondering why his heart suddenly was beating faster. "Sure, why not."

"Right. So, what was one of the most shocking experiences you've ever had?"

Trowa didn't even have to think. "Friday morning when I walked in on Heero and Duo."

Quatre laughed. "I wish I'd been there to see their faces."

"I wish I'd had a camera with me, it was priceless," Trowa agreed, a smile on his face. "Not only that, it would have been fantastic blackmail material." He shook his head wryly in amusement at the memory then looked over at Quatre again. "My turn. What is the worst thing that Iria has ever had you do?"

"Urgh, there's so many I can't choose." Quatre thought for a moment. "There's one that takes the cake though. It was at Iria's tenth birthday, right after I'd met you for the first time and Iria had gotten a make-up kit for her birthday. After all the insanely giggling girls had finished doing themselves up, they turned to the only other child there — me. I got a complete makeover and had to be dressed up in some of Iria's old clothes. They've still got pictures of it, Cathy told me she has one framed."

"She does." Trowa grinned. "I've seen it."

Quatre groaned. "My life is over," he sighed melodramatically.

Trowa laughed.

They continued on like that, swapping humorous stories of their early life and teenage years for an hour or two more until, completely exhausted now, they fell quietly asleep.

Trowa's eyelids fluttered open, registering that it was now light outside. /Where am I?/ Trowa looked down and his throat tightened in surprise.

Quatre was leaning his head against his bare torso, those golden whispers of hair gently brushing his sin and sending shivers down his spine. This was a very familiar feeling and not too unpleasant either. The complete opposite in fact. /Gods, this feels so good,/ he thought, not caring about the way that they were resting could be interpreted by others. It felt good to have Quatre nestled up against him, to have that golden fringe tickling his skin, to feel his warm breath rising goosebumps on his stomach, to have his body heat warming his own ...

"Oh shit!" Trowa clenched his hands and berated himself for an idiot then tried to calm himself down by focusing on breathing slowly.

It wasn't working.

/Gods, I can't do this, it's Quatre, I can't possibly ... can I?/ Trowa groaned quietly. /Oh, gods but it feels so good to have him near me, draped over me like ... okay, stop right there. I can't do this, I've got to get up./

Like yesterday morn, Trowa attempted to remove himself from Quatre's tight embrace only to have the pale boy hold on tighter. Trowa decided to use a different tactic than before. He gently grabbed a hold of Quatre's shoulders and lightly shook the boy. "Quatre," he whispered. "Can you let go of me?" It wasn't the nicest thing to say in the morning to a beautiful sleeping angel, but Trowa was desperate to get out of that bed.

"Quatre?" He tried again, a little louder.

"Iie," Quatre murmured, his face creasing into a frown. He held on tighter, but unlike last time he was waking, Quatre seemed to be distraught.

"Quatre?" Trowa shook him again, worried about his friend this time.

"Don't." It came out as a whisper, but Trowa sat stock still. The pain and fear in Quatre's voice shocked him. The lack of movement from his proverbial teddy bear strangely enough caused the blond boy to stir.

"Quatre?" Trowa whispered to him fearfully.

Quatre's eyes opened wide in shock and he pushed Trowa away from him, not realising where he was or what was happening. "Get away from me," he hissed, staring at the other boy with loathing and fear. Trowa looked at him with a stunned and hurt expression on his face and Quatre suddenly realised where he was and what was happening.

"Trowa?" He held a distraught hand to his mouth. "Oh, Gods, gomen nasai."

"It's fine." Trowa regained his composure. "I was just trying to wake you so we could start off soon." Trowa glanced at the clock and winced. It was almost ten in the morning. He didn't look back at Quatre. "I've still got to have a shower, we can leave after that if you want."

Quatre nodded even though Trowa couldn't see and watched as the taller boy gathered some clothes and walked out to the bathroom. Quatre sat on the bed, staring at the door for a few long moments before putting his head in his hands. "What have I done?"

Trowa's coldness to Quatre hadn't dissipated by the time he was done showering. They had a short breakfast with Wufei who informed them that Quatre's father, Iria and Catherine had all left earlier, deciding to take a short trip to the hospital along the way. Quatre nodded. They'd organised last night that he and Trowa would go back on the 'cycle. They thanked Wufei for his hospitality, gave their regards to Meiran and asked him to say goodbye to Dorothy again before they finally left for the open road again.

The ride back was uneventful save for two stops at gas stations for petrol and food. Trowa was still cold, but not completely silent. However, it was the way he talked to Quatre that indicated that this morning's encounter had hurt him deeply, far deeper than he would ever admit to.

By the time they arrived back at Quatre's house it was twilight and getting even darker. The autumn night wind bit chillingly at the boys as they dismounted from the motorcycle and put it back in the large Winner garage where they had borrowed it from two night ago. There was still a large space in the garage left for the entry of the car Quatre's father, Iria and Catherine were still in. They hadn't arrived back yet.

Quatre unlocked the door to his house and let himself and Trowa in, reveling in the warmth of the empty house.

However, the emptiness soon grew too oppressive for Quatre.

He wanted so desperately for Trowa to understand, he wanted to explain his problems and wanted Trowa to do nothing more than take him in his arms, but he didn't. The scars of his past were still too painful and being with Trowa, being with someone he felt so strongly about, only made them worse. It hurt to know that the one he felt so passionately about could be the one to expose his vulnerability without meaning to.

He'd hurt Trowa and he didn't know how to make it up to him, not until he knew he wouldn't get hurt again, not until he knew he wouldn't hurt Trowa again.

It was a relief to both of them when bright headlights shining through the living room window signaled the return of their family members.

That relief only highlighted their pain and sorrow.