Title: Exercising an Option
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Adventure(little bit of some other stuff) Pairings: 5+S, 13+6, 3+4, 1+2, variously Warnings: Citrus, Language, Yaoi, Het Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates
(AN: A little taste of that long awaited fanservice, yay! You've all been so patient! And some plot too, don't forget plot! We've neglected 3 and 4 a bit, too, so I'll make it up to them. Q: Yay, we're in the story again, thank you, oh forgetful one! (Kisses author's feet)*which she really likes* T: (Glomps Q). About time! I was getting bored! (Gives author a dirty look.)
Chapter 9
"See, I told you, don't dis the vibes," said Quatre, pulling himself up from the side of the pool and walking over to where he'd left his towel on the chaise lounge. "I knew something was wrong with Heero."
"You're getting a sunburn," said Trowa, pulling down his sunglasses and scrutinizing Quatre's bare back as he dried off his hair.
Quatre tried to twist his head around to look at his back, which was clearly impossible, making Trowa grin.
"You'll have to take my word for it, kitten," said Trowa. "Even I don't bend that way. Come here and I'll put some more sunscreen on your back."
Quatre obediently sat on the end of Trowa's lounge chair to get his back slathered with more white stuff.
"Being blonde is a pain," said Quatre, enjoying the coolness of the lotion on his back.
"You're actually browning up quite nicely," said Trowa. "Just go slowly in this sun, it's pretty intense at this altitude. I can't remember the last time you were outside this much."
"Is that your unsubtle way of telling me I spend too much time sitting at my desk?" asked Quatre. "I'll have you know I go to the gym three times a week."
"You look all right to me, love," said Trowa in his ear. "Delicious, in fact."
"Sunscreen tastes nasty," he said a second later, making a face.
"I'll be sure and take a shower before you lick my neck again," said Quatre, laughing a little.
"I hope that's a genuine offer," said Trowa, picking up the novel he was reading again.
"As long as you don't stop at my neck. Hand me my robe, will you? It's getting chilly." He finished drying his hair and tossed the damp towel on the end of the lounge chair and sprawled out. Trowa reached into a nearby canvas bag and handed him a short robe.
"This is nice, isn't it?" said Quatre, lolling back on the lounge. "You were so right about us needing a vacation."
"I believe I said, 'you' needed a vacation, dear. I'm not the one working on having a stroke before my 30th birthday."
"Have I been that bad?" asked Quatre softly. "Because if I have, I'm sorry."
"No, baby, you haven't been that bad. I just worry about you sometimes. You get so involved in other people's problems."
"I can't seem to help it. Which is what makes me the perfect personal manager, I suppose."
"You don't have to do this," said Trowa. "Between your investments and your trust fund, you don't even have to work. I have to admit, I don't understand why you drive yourself so hard."
"I don't want to be just another trust fund baby, Tro," he said tightly. "And, I'm not touching the money my father left me. He couldn't accept me the way I am, so I don't need his damn money. I can make it on my own and have, quite nicely, thank you."
"No one's saying you can't," said Trowa quietly. "But he's been dead for almost 5 years now."
"You're telling me it's time to get over it?" asked Quatre, hunching his shoulders uncomfortably under the robe.
"There's no point telling you something you already know, is there?" asked Trowa gently.
"No, there isn't." Quatre stood up. "I'm going back to the room. This damned sunscreen is making me itch."
"I'll be up in a minute," said Trowa. "Take a shower!" he called after Quatre's retreating figure. Quatre turned around and smiled, still walking away.
Trowa followed him. Only Quatre could smile and still look so sad.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Duo was lying on the massage table, taking a short nap between appointments when Heero knocked softly on the door.
"Come in," said Duo, sitting up and scrubbing at his eyes.
Heero opened the door. "Were you asleep?" he asked, looking at Duo.
"Just popped off for a few minutes," said Duo. "Don't tell on me, okay?" He grinned. "Sleeping on the job is a no-no."
"I kept you up last night, didn't I?" asked Heero, sounding slightly guilty.
"A bit," said Duo. "Between Rusty, you, the gun, and a weird-ass dream I had, I didn't get enough sleep. Don't worry, I'll just take a nap when I get home later."
"You had a nightmare?" asked Heero.
"Not exactly," said Duo, averting his eyes in embarrassment as certain details of his dream from the previous night flashed through his mind.
"Oh," said Heero. "One of those dreams." He raised one eyebrow at Duo.
"Hey!" said Duo. "I didn't say that!"
"You didn't have to, your face is all red," said Heero, smirking a little.
"Never mind that," said Duo, busying himself with setting up the table.
"Do I need to take off my clothes?" asked Heero, reaching for the bottom of his dark green polo shirt.
"Um sure," said Duo, "And your pants too, if you want me to work on your legs."
"There's a towel there you can wrap around yourself in the dressing room," he said, indicating a small curtained off area at one end of the room.
Heero went behind the curtain and came out a few minutes later, wrapped in a large white towel.
"Like this?" he said.
"Fine," said Duo. "Jump up here and lie on your stomach please." He placed his hand on the padded massage table.
Heero complied. "Give me a minute," said Duo. "I usually like to warm up the oil a bit. It feels cold, otherwise."
"How does one become a massage therapist?" asked Heero.
"One goes to school," said Duo. "One gets a license."
"I see," said Heero. "I hope you didn't take that the wrong way."
"Nope," said Duo. "But for some people, massage is still a euphemism for procuring sexual favors. I'm still an amateur in that particular field." He chuckled.
Heero was silent for a few moments. "I don't want to interfere with your normal routine," he finally said. "I mean, just because I'm staying with you."
"My normal routine has not been interfered with," said Duo. "Except there's someone else around to entertain my dog."
"What I mean is," Heero cleared his throat. "I don't want to interfere with your social life."
"My social life is pretty much what you saw last night," said Duo. "Sadly enough," he added.
"Oh," said Heero. "You don't have a girlfriend then."
Duo sighed. "I'll level with you. Even when I had a 'social life', I didn't have a girlfriend. I had a boyfriend."
"Oh," said Heero.
"You're not weirded out by me now, are you?" asked Duo. He was surprised at how dry his mouth felt. "I mean, because if you are, we can find you somewhere else to stay."
"No, I'm not 'weirded out'," said Heero. "I seemed safe enough the other night."
Well, okay, then, um, good," said Duo. He wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a trace of humor in Heero's dry tones.
"Speaking of 'weirding out'," said Duo. "You're not going to freak when I touch you now, are you?"
"No," said Heero. "I'm trusting your amateur status will remain intact."
Now Duo knew for sure he was being teased, albeit in a very subtle fashion.
He poured some warm oil into his hands and began to work it into the muscles of Heero's upper back.
"Feeling okay?" asked Duo. He usually kept up a stream of innocuous chatter with clients, unless he noticed it making them tense.
A small grunt was the response.
"You're very tense," said Duo. "But, after last night, I suppose anyone would be."
There was no response except the gradual relaxing of the tight muscles under his hands. Duo briefly noticed a few small scars on the man's back, including one that was about the size of his palm. It looked like the old scar of a burn.
Duo went through his massage routine quietly after that, working downward until he reached the tight muscles in the lower back.
"You're not uncomfortable with this?" he asked brushing his hands lightly on the waistband of Heero's boxers.
"No." Heero's voice sounded drowsy.
"I usually ask," said Duo.
"Go ahead," said Heero.
"I won't touch you anywhere you don't want me too."
"I believe you."
"Good," said Duo. "There's not a gun in here, is there?" he joked.
He felt a slight tremor under his hands that indicated silent laughter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Quatre?" called Trowa, unlocking the door to their room.
There was no answer, so Trowa followed the trail of discarded clothing to the bathroom door.
He opened it and steam obscured his vision.
"Quatre?" he inquired. He waived his hand in front of his face to clear the fog away.
He went over and wiped the steam away from the glass shower door.
Quatre was sitting on the shower bench, his face buried in his hands.
Without bothering to remove his trunks and t-shirt, Trowa walked in and knelt in front of him.
"Why couldn't he just love me the way I am?" asked Quatre plaintively from between his fingers.
"I don't know," said Trowa softly. "Come on, you're getting all shriveled in here." He put his arms around the other man.
"You know, the last time I saw him, we argued. I never saw him again."
"I know. Come on, water's getting cold."
They stood, arms still entwined. "I was never what he wanted me to be."
"You can't always be what other people want you to be."
"I'm cold."
"That's because you're standing here in the shower dripping wet, baby. I'll get you a towel."
"Don't go."
"I won't. I promise. Just to get you a towel."
Later, lying on the bed, Trowa leaned over and traced the delicate tracks of tears down the blond man's face as he slept peacefully. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Do you mind if I ask where we are going?" asked Wufei, getting into Sally's car.
"Lunch," said Sally cryptically. "I hope you don't mind, it won't be anything fancy."
"I'm not a gourmet," said Wufei. "I actually prefer simple things.
"Then, you're going to love this," said Sally, smiling at him. "We're going to my house. But, first, I have to stop and pick up my son from daycare."
"Matt, I think you said his name was," said Wufei.
"Yes, his name is Matt," said Sally. "I promised him we'd have lunch today. You know how kids are about being disappointed."
"Not really," said Wufei. "I don't have any. But, if they're anything like actors, it probably isn't a good thing."
Sally laughed. "Worse," she said. "For a kid, a promise is a promise, no matter what."
Sally pulled up in front of a colorful building with playground equipment in the yard.
A small blur ran up to the car. "Mom!" he said as Sally motioned for him to get in the back seat.
"Who's that?" Matthew asked, sliding in.
"This is Mr. Chang," said Sally. "Remember I told you about him. He's going to have lunch with us."
"Cool!" said Matt. "Are you really in the movies?"
Wufei chuckled. "Yes, but I'm not an actor. I do stunts."
"That's like dangerous stuff, right?" asked Matt.
"Yes, it can be," said Wufei. "Most of what I do is martial arts."
"Is it hard?" asked Matt.
"It takes a long time to learn and do well," said Wufei to the boy. "I practice a lot."
"Like writing?" asked Matthew. "I have to practice a lot to make good letters."
"Exactly like that," said Wufei. "At first, it's hard, and the more you practice, the easier it becomes."
"How long have you being practicing?" asked Matt.
"I started when I was about your age," replied Wufei.
"Wow, you must be old," said Matt.
Sally stifled a giggle. "To a five year old, everyone over 12 seems old," she said.
"Yes, I remember," said Wufei. "I was a child once, believe it or not." He smiled at her.
"That's not so hard for me to believe," said Sally. "Although I imagine you were a rather serious child."
"I can't say," said Wufei. "I remember being somewhat quiet, though. I was raised by very traditional parents and I was expected to be attentive and quiet."
"Well, we're here," said Sally.
"What's for lunch, Mom?" asked Matt, climbing out of the back seat. "I hope its pizza!"
"You had pizza last night," said Sally, "Don't you ever get tired of it?"
"Nope," said Matt.
"Well," said Sally, "its not pizza."
"Darn," said Matt. "Is it Chinese?" he asked, hopefully.
"Bingo!" said Sally. "I'm making Chinese chicken salad, your favorite."
"Pizza is my favorite," said Matt.
Sally gave him a "look" as they went into the house.
"But that's good too," he said, amending himself quickly.
"I'm so glad you approve," said Sally dryly. "Go wash your hands."
"Okay," said Matt, running down the hall.
"He seems like a bright child," said Wufei.
"Please, sit down," said Sally, indicating a stool across from the kitchen counter, where she began the finishing touches on their lunch. "Yes, he is. Takes after his father, I think. At least he looks like him."
"I don't mean to be overly inquisitive," said Wufei, "But are you divorced?"
"I'm a widow," said Sally, "My husband died 2 years ago. A car accident."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," said Wufei sincerely.
"Thank you," said Sally perfunctorily. She reflected briefly on how many times she'd received condolences for her husbands death the last few years and mentally shrugged. It had become a ritual.
"It's been hard on Matt," she said, "He misses his father, even if he doesn't remember him very well. He misses his presence more than anything, I'm sure."
"I'm sure," echoed Wufei. "I know how it is."
"Do you?" asked Sally calmly. "It's a hard thing to understand unless you've experienced it."
"My wife died 3 years ago," said Wufei.
Sally looked up from making a salad over the kitchen counter. "I didn't know that."
"I'm surprised," said Wufei with a faintly bitter tone. "It was in most of the national newspapers."
"I'm sorry, I don't keep up on the news that much. We're a bit isolated here, I suppose," said Sally. "Was she ill?" Sally asked quietly.
"No, an accident. She worked with me and there was a accident."
Sally winced. "You saw it?" she asked. A memory of seeing her husband's body flashed through her head and she gripped the counter briefly, feeling a bit dizzy.
"Yes, I was there," said Wufei. "But, this isn't exactly pleasant talk in front of your son." He pointed his chin slightly in Matt's direction, as he was coming down the hallway.
"I'm done, Mom," the boy said. "See?" he held up his hands for inspection. "I used soap and everything."
Sally grinned and pretended to scrutinize his hands. "Looks good, sweetie," she said.
"Mom, do you have to call me that?" asked Matt, rolling his eyes.
"Sorry, I forgot," said Sally. "Go set the table, okay?"
"Okay," he agreed, "But I can't reach the plates, they're too high."
"I'll help you," said Wufei, standing up. "Show me where they are."
"Up there," Matthew pointed to an overhead cupboard. "Usually I just climb up when Mom's not looking." He grinned mischievously.
"That explains the sneaker tread marks on the countertops," said Sally, pointing her utensils at him.
"Mom, can I use my Transformers plate?" asked Matt.
Sally sighed. "I suppose," she said.
"It's right there," pointed Matt. Wufei looked until he found the plate.
"Do you like Transformers?" he asked Wufei.
"I suppose I would if I knew what it was," said Wufei.
"It's a cartoon," said Matt in a superior tone. "My mom watches with me, you can ask her all about it."
"I'm sure we'll do that later," said Wufei, sounding amused.
"Everything's ready," said Sally. "As soon as you get the table set, we can eat."
"We need to hurry before Mom gets mad," whispered Matt, putting his plate on the table.
"She seems nice to me," whispered Wufei back. He handed Matt some silverware, a napkin and a glass.
Matt giggled. "She is, but she gets mad sometimes," he confided.
"What are you two whispering about?" asked Sally, raising her brows.
"Nothing," said Matt, the very picture of innocence.
"Good, then, let's sit down. I have to get back to work in 2 hours and you have to go back to daycare."
"Daycare sucks," sighed Matt. "Can't I go to work with you, Mom?" he wheedled. "Pleeeeze?"
"I have to work with Wufei this afternoon," she said. "We have a lot to do."
"I don't mind," said Wufei. "I'm sure Matt will behave himself while we do my therapy."
Matt grinned widely, displaying one missing upper tooth. "Cool!" he said.
"All right," said Sally, as she poured Matt a glass of juice and herself and Wufei some iced tea. "But, you have to stay out of trouble."
"I will, I will, I will," said Matt, bouncing in his seat a little.
Sally gave Wufei a "I hope you realize what you're in for," look and he smiled warmly and arched one eyebrow at her. She felt her face flush a bit.
I can't believe I'm so attracted to someone I just met, thought Sally. She mentally chastised herself for feeling like a teenager with a crush at her age.
She tried to dismiss those thoughts as she idly listened to Matt describe in gory detail how someone named Brad had got a crayon stuck up his nose at daycare that morning.
"They had to call his mom and everything," finished Matt dramatically.
"Sounds painful," said Wufei, barely concealing a smile between bites.
"He cried," said Matt. "But, he's a little kid. He's only four."
"I'm sure had that happened to you, you would have been much braver," said Wufei seriously. Although Sally noticed a few crinkles of amusement around his dark eyes.
Matt glared. "I don't stick crayons up my nose!" he said, slightly indignant.
"My apologies," said Wufei, still serious. "I should have realized you're much too old for that."
"Are you done eating?" asked Sally, looking at Matt's empty plate. "Yeah," said Matt. "May I be excused?" he asked. "I wanna go outside."
"Go ahead," said Sally. "Put your plate by the sink, and I'll call you when we're ready to go."
"Okay, Mom," said Matt, getting up and putting his plate on the kitchen counter. He literally ran outside, slamming the door behind him. Sally winced slightly.
"Would you like more?" asked Sally, looking at Wufei's now empty plate.
"No thank you," he said. "But, it was quite good."
"I just thought you might enjoy something a little more homey than going to another restaurant, or eating at the inn," said Sally.
"You thought rightly," said Wufei. "I enjoyed it very much. Would you like me to help you do the dishes?" he asked.
Sally looked slightly flabbergasted. "No, that's all right, I'll just rinse them off and put them in the dishwasher. But, I can't believe you offered."
"I'm quite accustomed to doing household chores," said Wufei. "I live alone, remember?"
"Oh, right," said Sally, feeling a little foolish. "I just thought you'd have help to do things like that."
"I have a maid for heavy cleaning," he said, "but I usually do all my own cooking, and other things."
"You cook?" asked Sally.
"Since the alternative is hunger, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I'm quite self-sufficient, actually."
"I hate to say this, since I hardly know you," said Sally. "But it sounds rather lonely."
"Of course," said Wufei blandly. "But I have good friends, and I keep busy."
"It sounds selfish," admitted Sally, getting up to rinse off the dishes. "But I'm so glad I have Matt. He gives me something other to focus on besides work."
"You're very fortunate," said Wufei. "Someone tangible, alive to honor your husband's memory."
"He sounds sad," Sally thought, putting the dishes in the dishwasher.
"Would you like to come sit out on the deck?" asked Sally. "I want to keep an eye on Matt."
"Of course," said Wufei.
Sally opened the French doors leading out onto the wooden deck from the dining room.
"I love it out here," she said, sitting down on a cushioned rattan lounge. Wufei sat in a rocking chair.
"The view is very nice," said Wufei in a distant voice, looking out over the fenced yard full of flowers and trees and at the surrounding mountains.
"This is a good place for your son to grow up," he said.
"Yes, a bit out of the way from civilization, but he's free to run and play here," she said. Matt was in a sandbox in a corner of the yard, building ramps and jumping trucks off of them with loud engine noises he supplied himself.
"Civilization is not so civilized," said Wufei, watching the boy. "He's better off here."
"No doubt," said Sally. She checked her watch. "We have to be back at the inn in 45 minutes," she said.
"You needn't feel compelled to entertain me," said Wufei, seriously. "I'm enjoying the view, and the quiet."
"I feel comfortable around you," said Sally, "I'm glad you feel the same."
They sat in companionable silence, watching Matt play until it was time to leave.
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Adventure(little bit of some other stuff) Pairings: 5+S, 13+6, 3+4, 1+2, variously Warnings: Citrus, Language, Yaoi, Het Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates
(AN: A little taste of that long awaited fanservice, yay! You've all been so patient! And some plot too, don't forget plot! We've neglected 3 and 4 a bit, too, so I'll make it up to them. Q: Yay, we're in the story again, thank you, oh forgetful one! (Kisses author's feet)*which she really likes* T: (Glomps Q). About time! I was getting bored! (Gives author a dirty look.)
Chapter 9
"See, I told you, don't dis the vibes," said Quatre, pulling himself up from the side of the pool and walking over to where he'd left his towel on the chaise lounge. "I knew something was wrong with Heero."
"You're getting a sunburn," said Trowa, pulling down his sunglasses and scrutinizing Quatre's bare back as he dried off his hair.
Quatre tried to twist his head around to look at his back, which was clearly impossible, making Trowa grin.
"You'll have to take my word for it, kitten," said Trowa. "Even I don't bend that way. Come here and I'll put some more sunscreen on your back."
Quatre obediently sat on the end of Trowa's lounge chair to get his back slathered with more white stuff.
"Being blonde is a pain," said Quatre, enjoying the coolness of the lotion on his back.
"You're actually browning up quite nicely," said Trowa. "Just go slowly in this sun, it's pretty intense at this altitude. I can't remember the last time you were outside this much."
"Is that your unsubtle way of telling me I spend too much time sitting at my desk?" asked Quatre. "I'll have you know I go to the gym three times a week."
"You look all right to me, love," said Trowa in his ear. "Delicious, in fact."
"Sunscreen tastes nasty," he said a second later, making a face.
"I'll be sure and take a shower before you lick my neck again," said Quatre, laughing a little.
"I hope that's a genuine offer," said Trowa, picking up the novel he was reading again.
"As long as you don't stop at my neck. Hand me my robe, will you? It's getting chilly." He finished drying his hair and tossed the damp towel on the end of the lounge chair and sprawled out. Trowa reached into a nearby canvas bag and handed him a short robe.
"This is nice, isn't it?" said Quatre, lolling back on the lounge. "You were so right about us needing a vacation."
"I believe I said, 'you' needed a vacation, dear. I'm not the one working on having a stroke before my 30th birthday."
"Have I been that bad?" asked Quatre softly. "Because if I have, I'm sorry."
"No, baby, you haven't been that bad. I just worry about you sometimes. You get so involved in other people's problems."
"I can't seem to help it. Which is what makes me the perfect personal manager, I suppose."
"You don't have to do this," said Trowa. "Between your investments and your trust fund, you don't even have to work. I have to admit, I don't understand why you drive yourself so hard."
"I don't want to be just another trust fund baby, Tro," he said tightly. "And, I'm not touching the money my father left me. He couldn't accept me the way I am, so I don't need his damn money. I can make it on my own and have, quite nicely, thank you."
"No one's saying you can't," said Trowa quietly. "But he's been dead for almost 5 years now."
"You're telling me it's time to get over it?" asked Quatre, hunching his shoulders uncomfortably under the robe.
"There's no point telling you something you already know, is there?" asked Trowa gently.
"No, there isn't." Quatre stood up. "I'm going back to the room. This damned sunscreen is making me itch."
"I'll be up in a minute," said Trowa. "Take a shower!" he called after Quatre's retreating figure. Quatre turned around and smiled, still walking away.
Trowa followed him. Only Quatre could smile and still look so sad.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Duo was lying on the massage table, taking a short nap between appointments when Heero knocked softly on the door.
"Come in," said Duo, sitting up and scrubbing at his eyes.
Heero opened the door. "Were you asleep?" he asked, looking at Duo.
"Just popped off for a few minutes," said Duo. "Don't tell on me, okay?" He grinned. "Sleeping on the job is a no-no."
"I kept you up last night, didn't I?" asked Heero, sounding slightly guilty.
"A bit," said Duo. "Between Rusty, you, the gun, and a weird-ass dream I had, I didn't get enough sleep. Don't worry, I'll just take a nap when I get home later."
"You had a nightmare?" asked Heero.
"Not exactly," said Duo, averting his eyes in embarrassment as certain details of his dream from the previous night flashed through his mind.
"Oh," said Heero. "One of those dreams." He raised one eyebrow at Duo.
"Hey!" said Duo. "I didn't say that!"
"You didn't have to, your face is all red," said Heero, smirking a little.
"Never mind that," said Duo, busying himself with setting up the table.
"Do I need to take off my clothes?" asked Heero, reaching for the bottom of his dark green polo shirt.
"Um sure," said Duo, "And your pants too, if you want me to work on your legs."
"There's a towel there you can wrap around yourself in the dressing room," he said, indicating a small curtained off area at one end of the room.
Heero went behind the curtain and came out a few minutes later, wrapped in a large white towel.
"Like this?" he said.
"Fine," said Duo. "Jump up here and lie on your stomach please." He placed his hand on the padded massage table.
Heero complied. "Give me a minute," said Duo. "I usually like to warm up the oil a bit. It feels cold, otherwise."
"How does one become a massage therapist?" asked Heero.
"One goes to school," said Duo. "One gets a license."
"I see," said Heero. "I hope you didn't take that the wrong way."
"Nope," said Duo. "But for some people, massage is still a euphemism for procuring sexual favors. I'm still an amateur in that particular field." He chuckled.
Heero was silent for a few moments. "I don't want to interfere with your normal routine," he finally said. "I mean, just because I'm staying with you."
"My normal routine has not been interfered with," said Duo. "Except there's someone else around to entertain my dog."
"What I mean is," Heero cleared his throat. "I don't want to interfere with your social life."
"My social life is pretty much what you saw last night," said Duo. "Sadly enough," he added.
"Oh," said Heero. "You don't have a girlfriend then."
Duo sighed. "I'll level with you. Even when I had a 'social life', I didn't have a girlfriend. I had a boyfriend."
"Oh," said Heero.
"You're not weirded out by me now, are you?" asked Duo. He was surprised at how dry his mouth felt. "I mean, because if you are, we can find you somewhere else to stay."
"No, I'm not 'weirded out'," said Heero. "I seemed safe enough the other night."
Well, okay, then, um, good," said Duo. He wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a trace of humor in Heero's dry tones.
"Speaking of 'weirding out'," said Duo. "You're not going to freak when I touch you now, are you?"
"No," said Heero. "I'm trusting your amateur status will remain intact."
Now Duo knew for sure he was being teased, albeit in a very subtle fashion.
He poured some warm oil into his hands and began to work it into the muscles of Heero's upper back.
"Feeling okay?" asked Duo. He usually kept up a stream of innocuous chatter with clients, unless he noticed it making them tense.
A small grunt was the response.
"You're very tense," said Duo. "But, after last night, I suppose anyone would be."
There was no response except the gradual relaxing of the tight muscles under his hands. Duo briefly noticed a few small scars on the man's back, including one that was about the size of his palm. It looked like the old scar of a burn.
Duo went through his massage routine quietly after that, working downward until he reached the tight muscles in the lower back.
"You're not uncomfortable with this?" he asked brushing his hands lightly on the waistband of Heero's boxers.
"No." Heero's voice sounded drowsy.
"I usually ask," said Duo.
"Go ahead," said Heero.
"I won't touch you anywhere you don't want me too."
"I believe you."
"Good," said Duo. "There's not a gun in here, is there?" he joked.
He felt a slight tremor under his hands that indicated silent laughter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Quatre?" called Trowa, unlocking the door to their room.
There was no answer, so Trowa followed the trail of discarded clothing to the bathroom door.
He opened it and steam obscured his vision.
"Quatre?" he inquired. He waived his hand in front of his face to clear the fog away.
He went over and wiped the steam away from the glass shower door.
Quatre was sitting on the shower bench, his face buried in his hands.
Without bothering to remove his trunks and t-shirt, Trowa walked in and knelt in front of him.
"Why couldn't he just love me the way I am?" asked Quatre plaintively from between his fingers.
"I don't know," said Trowa softly. "Come on, you're getting all shriveled in here." He put his arms around the other man.
"You know, the last time I saw him, we argued. I never saw him again."
"I know. Come on, water's getting cold."
They stood, arms still entwined. "I was never what he wanted me to be."
"You can't always be what other people want you to be."
"I'm cold."
"That's because you're standing here in the shower dripping wet, baby. I'll get you a towel."
"Don't go."
"I won't. I promise. Just to get you a towel."
Later, lying on the bed, Trowa leaned over and traced the delicate tracks of tears down the blond man's face as he slept peacefully. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Do you mind if I ask where we are going?" asked Wufei, getting into Sally's car.
"Lunch," said Sally cryptically. "I hope you don't mind, it won't be anything fancy."
"I'm not a gourmet," said Wufei. "I actually prefer simple things.
"Then, you're going to love this," said Sally, smiling at him. "We're going to my house. But, first, I have to stop and pick up my son from daycare."
"Matt, I think you said his name was," said Wufei.
"Yes, his name is Matt," said Sally. "I promised him we'd have lunch today. You know how kids are about being disappointed."
"Not really," said Wufei. "I don't have any. But, if they're anything like actors, it probably isn't a good thing."
Sally laughed. "Worse," she said. "For a kid, a promise is a promise, no matter what."
Sally pulled up in front of a colorful building with playground equipment in the yard.
A small blur ran up to the car. "Mom!" he said as Sally motioned for him to get in the back seat.
"Who's that?" Matthew asked, sliding in.
"This is Mr. Chang," said Sally. "Remember I told you about him. He's going to have lunch with us."
"Cool!" said Matt. "Are you really in the movies?"
Wufei chuckled. "Yes, but I'm not an actor. I do stunts."
"That's like dangerous stuff, right?" asked Matt.
"Yes, it can be," said Wufei. "Most of what I do is martial arts."
"Is it hard?" asked Matt.
"It takes a long time to learn and do well," said Wufei to the boy. "I practice a lot."
"Like writing?" asked Matthew. "I have to practice a lot to make good letters."
"Exactly like that," said Wufei. "At first, it's hard, and the more you practice, the easier it becomes."
"How long have you being practicing?" asked Matt.
"I started when I was about your age," replied Wufei.
"Wow, you must be old," said Matt.
Sally stifled a giggle. "To a five year old, everyone over 12 seems old," she said.
"Yes, I remember," said Wufei. "I was a child once, believe it or not." He smiled at her.
"That's not so hard for me to believe," said Sally. "Although I imagine you were a rather serious child."
"I can't say," said Wufei. "I remember being somewhat quiet, though. I was raised by very traditional parents and I was expected to be attentive and quiet."
"Well, we're here," said Sally.
"What's for lunch, Mom?" asked Matt, climbing out of the back seat. "I hope its pizza!"
"You had pizza last night," said Sally, "Don't you ever get tired of it?"
"Nope," said Matt.
"Well," said Sally, "its not pizza."
"Darn," said Matt. "Is it Chinese?" he asked, hopefully.
"Bingo!" said Sally. "I'm making Chinese chicken salad, your favorite."
"Pizza is my favorite," said Matt.
Sally gave him a "look" as they went into the house.
"But that's good too," he said, amending himself quickly.
"I'm so glad you approve," said Sally dryly. "Go wash your hands."
"Okay," said Matt, running down the hall.
"He seems like a bright child," said Wufei.
"Please, sit down," said Sally, indicating a stool across from the kitchen counter, where she began the finishing touches on their lunch. "Yes, he is. Takes after his father, I think. At least he looks like him."
"I don't mean to be overly inquisitive," said Wufei, "But are you divorced?"
"I'm a widow," said Sally, "My husband died 2 years ago. A car accident."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," said Wufei sincerely.
"Thank you," said Sally perfunctorily. She reflected briefly on how many times she'd received condolences for her husbands death the last few years and mentally shrugged. It had become a ritual.
"It's been hard on Matt," she said, "He misses his father, even if he doesn't remember him very well. He misses his presence more than anything, I'm sure."
"I'm sure," echoed Wufei. "I know how it is."
"Do you?" asked Sally calmly. "It's a hard thing to understand unless you've experienced it."
"My wife died 3 years ago," said Wufei.
Sally looked up from making a salad over the kitchen counter. "I didn't know that."
"I'm surprised," said Wufei with a faintly bitter tone. "It was in most of the national newspapers."
"I'm sorry, I don't keep up on the news that much. We're a bit isolated here, I suppose," said Sally. "Was she ill?" Sally asked quietly.
"No, an accident. She worked with me and there was a accident."
Sally winced. "You saw it?" she asked. A memory of seeing her husband's body flashed through her head and she gripped the counter briefly, feeling a bit dizzy.
"Yes, I was there," said Wufei. "But, this isn't exactly pleasant talk in front of your son." He pointed his chin slightly in Matt's direction, as he was coming down the hallway.
"I'm done, Mom," the boy said. "See?" he held up his hands for inspection. "I used soap and everything."
Sally grinned and pretended to scrutinize his hands. "Looks good, sweetie," she said.
"Mom, do you have to call me that?" asked Matt, rolling his eyes.
"Sorry, I forgot," said Sally. "Go set the table, okay?"
"Okay," he agreed, "But I can't reach the plates, they're too high."
"I'll help you," said Wufei, standing up. "Show me where they are."
"Up there," Matthew pointed to an overhead cupboard. "Usually I just climb up when Mom's not looking." He grinned mischievously.
"That explains the sneaker tread marks on the countertops," said Sally, pointing her utensils at him.
"Mom, can I use my Transformers plate?" asked Matt.
Sally sighed. "I suppose," she said.
"It's right there," pointed Matt. Wufei looked until he found the plate.
"Do you like Transformers?" he asked Wufei.
"I suppose I would if I knew what it was," said Wufei.
"It's a cartoon," said Matt in a superior tone. "My mom watches with me, you can ask her all about it."
"I'm sure we'll do that later," said Wufei, sounding amused.
"Everything's ready," said Sally. "As soon as you get the table set, we can eat."
"We need to hurry before Mom gets mad," whispered Matt, putting his plate on the table.
"She seems nice to me," whispered Wufei back. He handed Matt some silverware, a napkin and a glass.
Matt giggled. "She is, but she gets mad sometimes," he confided.
"What are you two whispering about?" asked Sally, raising her brows.
"Nothing," said Matt, the very picture of innocence.
"Good, then, let's sit down. I have to get back to work in 2 hours and you have to go back to daycare."
"Daycare sucks," sighed Matt. "Can't I go to work with you, Mom?" he wheedled. "Pleeeeze?"
"I have to work with Wufei this afternoon," she said. "We have a lot to do."
"I don't mind," said Wufei. "I'm sure Matt will behave himself while we do my therapy."
Matt grinned widely, displaying one missing upper tooth. "Cool!" he said.
"All right," said Sally, as she poured Matt a glass of juice and herself and Wufei some iced tea. "But, you have to stay out of trouble."
"I will, I will, I will," said Matt, bouncing in his seat a little.
Sally gave Wufei a "I hope you realize what you're in for," look and he smiled warmly and arched one eyebrow at her. She felt her face flush a bit.
I can't believe I'm so attracted to someone I just met, thought Sally. She mentally chastised herself for feeling like a teenager with a crush at her age.
She tried to dismiss those thoughts as she idly listened to Matt describe in gory detail how someone named Brad had got a crayon stuck up his nose at daycare that morning.
"They had to call his mom and everything," finished Matt dramatically.
"Sounds painful," said Wufei, barely concealing a smile between bites.
"He cried," said Matt. "But, he's a little kid. He's only four."
"I'm sure had that happened to you, you would have been much braver," said Wufei seriously. Although Sally noticed a few crinkles of amusement around his dark eyes.
Matt glared. "I don't stick crayons up my nose!" he said, slightly indignant.
"My apologies," said Wufei, still serious. "I should have realized you're much too old for that."
"Are you done eating?" asked Sally, looking at Matt's empty plate. "Yeah," said Matt. "May I be excused?" he asked. "I wanna go outside."
"Go ahead," said Sally. "Put your plate by the sink, and I'll call you when we're ready to go."
"Okay, Mom," said Matt, getting up and putting his plate on the kitchen counter. He literally ran outside, slamming the door behind him. Sally winced slightly.
"Would you like more?" asked Sally, looking at Wufei's now empty plate.
"No thank you," he said. "But, it was quite good."
"I just thought you might enjoy something a little more homey than going to another restaurant, or eating at the inn," said Sally.
"You thought rightly," said Wufei. "I enjoyed it very much. Would you like me to help you do the dishes?" he asked.
Sally looked slightly flabbergasted. "No, that's all right, I'll just rinse them off and put them in the dishwasher. But, I can't believe you offered."
"I'm quite accustomed to doing household chores," said Wufei. "I live alone, remember?"
"Oh, right," said Sally, feeling a little foolish. "I just thought you'd have help to do things like that."
"I have a maid for heavy cleaning," he said, "but I usually do all my own cooking, and other things."
"You cook?" asked Sally.
"Since the alternative is hunger, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I'm quite self-sufficient, actually."
"I hate to say this, since I hardly know you," said Sally. "But it sounds rather lonely."
"Of course," said Wufei blandly. "But I have good friends, and I keep busy."
"It sounds selfish," admitted Sally, getting up to rinse off the dishes. "But I'm so glad I have Matt. He gives me something other to focus on besides work."
"You're very fortunate," said Wufei. "Someone tangible, alive to honor your husband's memory."
"He sounds sad," Sally thought, putting the dishes in the dishwasher.
"Would you like to come sit out on the deck?" asked Sally. "I want to keep an eye on Matt."
"Of course," said Wufei.
Sally opened the French doors leading out onto the wooden deck from the dining room.
"I love it out here," she said, sitting down on a cushioned rattan lounge. Wufei sat in a rocking chair.
"The view is very nice," said Wufei in a distant voice, looking out over the fenced yard full of flowers and trees and at the surrounding mountains.
"This is a good place for your son to grow up," he said.
"Yes, a bit out of the way from civilization, but he's free to run and play here," she said. Matt was in a sandbox in a corner of the yard, building ramps and jumping trucks off of them with loud engine noises he supplied himself.
"Civilization is not so civilized," said Wufei, watching the boy. "He's better off here."
"No doubt," said Sally. She checked her watch. "We have to be back at the inn in 45 minutes," she said.
"You needn't feel compelled to entertain me," said Wufei, seriously. "I'm enjoying the view, and the quiet."
"I feel comfortable around you," said Sally, "I'm glad you feel the same."
They sat in companionable silence, watching Matt play until it was time to leave.