Warnings: lemon, minor angst, violence
Author: Arigatomina
Website: www . geocities . com / arigatomina
Buy Me Love
Part 7
The evening was going so well, Quatre was reluctant to leave Trowa's side, even for a few minutes. While it had been a bit awkward at first since the tall boy didn't know how to dance, he was a very quick learner and graceful. To say the boy swept him off his feet was nothing shy of the truth, and it was with a bright smile that Quatre left him. Weaving his way through the other dancers, he made it to the back of the large room, greeting his host and hostess with a grateful nod. He'd been surprised to receive an invitation from them, but then, he didn't usually take part in society functions. Ireia had been quick to tell him that his little trip to the Opera had made him an open figure and he'd be expected to attend certain functions in the future. But he didn't mind at all if Trowa accompanied him.
The back hall was deserted with the late hour, and Quatre's step quickened as he climbed the stairs to where the restrooms were. The evening had turned out to have a number of firsts for him. As it was, his sisters had taught him the different dance styles since he was old enough to walk, and it was as if he'd always known how. But this was the first time he'd actually danced at a party, and as his partner, Trowa was a big difference from his sisters. He's also imbibed in wine for the first time. Actually, he'd tasted it before at different family gatherings, namely weddings since all of his sisters who'd left home had married. That was different from social drinking, and he was grateful Trowa had warned him not to drink too much. Sour as it had been, the warm glow was nice.
On his way back, there were still no signs of people, the sound of music faint and he knew he'd have to leave soon. He only hoped he could convince Trowa to stay for at least another hour or two, he wasn't in any hurry for the evening to end. But he didn't think the boy would argue too much, he actually seemed to be enjoying himself and Quatre had to admit his conceit as he'd convinced himself Trowa was only having fun because he was with him. His steps were quick as he moved to the stairs, and he paused as he thought he heard something behind him. Then he was falling.
.-.
Despite his initial worries, Trowa was glad they'd gone to the party. Quatre had obviously enjoyed it immensely, and the boy was still smiling when they reached his room. Pulling off his long black overcoat, Trowa paused when Quatre flinched. He'd been removing his own coat, but the boy went a bit slower as he pulled off the sleeve of his right arm. "Quatre. What's wrong?"
Quatre looked up sharply, and he flushed a bit when he saw Trowa's concerned gaze. "I'm all right," he said quickly, folding his coat. He winced and looked down as those green eyes narrowed and his lover stepped to him. "Really, it's nothing."
"Did you hurt yourself?" He thought quickly, but he couldn't think of anything they'd done that day which might have hurt the boy. Since Quatre seemed in no hurry to show him, he gripped the boy's wrist lightly as he undid the cuffs and pushed the white shirt back. As he'd thought, there was a bruise on the boy's arm, but it was larger than he'd expected. "What happened?"
Quatre sighed, humiliated by his clumsiness. Still, he hadn't liked hiding something from Trowa, and he was a bit relieved to be able to tell him. "I...fell down the stairs."
"What!" Staring at the blonde boy, Trowa frowned. "You fell? Why didn't you say something?"
"I was embarrassed," Quatre admitted, pulling away. He walked to the bed and sat on the edge of it as he met the boy's frown. "I'm not clumsy, Trowa, and I was afraid you'd want to leave."
"When did it happen," Trowa asked, sitting beside the boy as he wiped the frown from his face. He wasn't sure why Quatre would be embarrassed over an accident, but he accepted it as he knew the blonde was sensitive.
"On my way back from the restroom," Quatre said with a small smile. "You know? At first I was sure someone had pushed me. I mean, I was at the top of the stairs, I hadn't even started to go down when I just...pitched forward." He was looking at his hands, so he missed the way Trowa's face changed. "And I never lose my balance."
"Someone pushed you."
Trowa's cold voice made him blink sharply, and Quatre was surprised by the boy's dark expression. "Oh no. I just thought someone might have. When I hit the bottom, I looked and there wasn't any one there. I was just making excuses so I wouldn't have to admit I'd fallen down the stairs."
"No," Trowa said, his tone halting any arguments as he stared at the boy in rising anger. I should have been there. I knew he was in danger. Quatre looked confused, and he sighed, folding his arms over his chest as he knew he'd have to warn him. "Quatre, I've looked into Dorothy. I think she plans to kill you anyway. Which means, someone at that party was no doubt hired by her."
"Oh." The tall boy seemed absolutely sure, and Quatre glared suddenly. "Why won't she just leave me alone."
Money, Trowa thought, but he didn't say it. "I won't let her hurt you, Quatre. I'll protect you."
This made the blonde boy smile, and he suddenly wrapped his arms around Trowa's waist. "Thank you, Trowa. And don't worry, I'll make it easy. No more parties." He smiled when the boy blinked. "Well, I mean I won't take any risks. After all, if we're prepared, it's better that way. And I don't have to leave the house."
"I don't like the thought of you being made a prisoner in your own home," Trowa said softly. But he knew the boy would be much safer that way.
"Trowa," Quatre smiled, shaking his head. "To be honest, I never went out much anyway. I've been outside more since I met you than I have in years." His voice softened, and he brushed a light kiss over Trowa's lips. "And I'm so glad I met you...Trowa."
"Quatre." Trowa sighed and moved his arms around the slender boy, running his fingers through Quatre's thick hair. Then the boy kissed his neck and his eyes snapped open.
"Trowa," the blonde said softly, tilting his head as he kissed the boy's chin. "I was wondering if we could...that is..."
Trowa blinked again, but the blush he found on the pale boy's face told him everything. "Ah..."
Quatre blushed darker as the boy smirked at him, but he smiled. "Make love to me?" He was turned so quickly he couldn't help but let out a breathless giggle as he found himself on his back. "I'll take that as a yes!"
"Yes," Trowa nodded, his eyes glinting. Moving down, he took the boy's open mouth in a heated kiss. God yes. I'll never get enough...
The blonde boy gave a slow smile when the tall boy pulled back a bit, and he moved his hands to Trowa's chest. He didn't wait as his fingers flew over the white shirt, unbuttoning it quickly. It was a good thing Trowa had already undone the cuffs, because Quatre was obviously in a hurry. Between the two of them, they were bare within a minute or two and Quatre let out a soft moan as he pulled the tall boy down on him.
Kissing him, Trowa massaged the pale boy's chest. He let his fingers play with Quatre's nipples and he swallowed the boy's moan, loving the way that slender body pushed up against him. While nothing would have satisfied him more than to simply take him, Trowa broke the kiss and pushed himself up resolutely. The lustful frown that met him brought a smirk to his lips, and he was surprised when Quatre tried to pull him back down. "I'll be right back," he murmured, brushing a kiss over the boy's lips. "You know I will."
"Do you have to use something?" Quatre asked quickly. He didn't want to lose the boy's touch, even for a moment. "Couldn't we just--"
"It's necessary," Trowa said, shaking his head as he pulled away.
"I am not fragile," Quatre muttered, folding his bare arms over his chest as he frowned up at the ceiling. "You aren't going to break me."
Pausing, Trowa's eyes glinted warmly at the boy's pout. "I'll never cause you pain, Quatre." Pale blue-green eyes moved to him, and he nodded sharply. It only took a few seconds to get the lotion from the bathroom, but his green eyes blazed strangely when he again stood beside the bed. "If you want forceful, I'm more than willing." The blonde boy's eyes widened, but he didn't resist when Trowa leaned down and pulled him off the bed. "But we do it my way."
"Trowa, what..." Quatre blinked in confusion as he was led into the bathroom, and he blushed when the boy backed him into the tub. "Trowa..."
"You're being feisty, so I'm sure you'll like this," Trowa said quickly as he shut the door and joined the boy. Quatre gasped when he turned on the shower, having pulled the curtains, but the water grew warm quickly.
"I'm sure I'll love it," Quatre said uncertainly, as he brushed his wet bangs out of his eyes. "Anything with you, but...don't we have to be..."
"Lying down?" Trowa asked, licking his lips. His eyes made a slow journey over the boy and he stepped forward, pressing him to the wall. "No. We don't have to lie down. There are so many ways I want to make love to you, Quatre. This makes two."
Quatre blushed as he tried in vain to think of other ways, then his mind cleared as the boy's length touched his and he moaned at the feel of it. His previous urgency was quick to return, but he didn't rush the tall boy, closing his eyes when Trowa's mouth moved over his chest. The fall of the water on him was an odd distraction, but he loved the way Trowa's damp hair felt on his skin and he let his hands move over the boy's back. Outlining those firm muscles with his fingertips excited him, and he pulled the boy's head up so he could kiss him.
-Lemon break:
www . geocities . com / arigatomina (underscore) gwfics / buy7 . html
.-.
It bothered him, leaving the boy in the middle of the night, and Trowa only hoped Quatre wouldn't wake up to find him gone. But he was sure the blonde would know or at least suspect where he'd gone if he did wake up. There really wasn't anything he could do about it, he had to learn about the person who'd tried to hurt Quatre. He was convinced Dorothy had hired someone, but without knowing the specifics and who she'd hired, he wouldn't know what to watch for. Pushing a boy down a flight of stairs was such a faulty method that he was sure the man the girl had hired was an amateur. Still, he wanted to be positive, and he headed out, weaving his way in blackness till he reached his destination. No one stopped him, and the few he passed were quick to look the other way. While he had tried to keep his identity a secret, there were certain people with whom it was easier to give a verbal warning than to kill. And he knew they wouldn't tell anything if asked. He had them completely cowed.
The door was barred when he knocked lightly on it, and Trowa stood still as the small slot slid open, shadowed eyes peering out at him. Then the bolt was drawn back quickly, and he nodded at the young woman who opened the door for him. It wasn't until she'd barred it again that she faced him.
"Do you have any idea how many people are looking for you?" she demanded, her hands on her hips as she frowned at the boy. "What have you been doing?"
"I..." Trowa frowned suddenly as he found he didn't really want to tell her. It wasn't that he didn't think she'd understand since Catherine had as much of a soft spot for innocents as he did, but the thought of telling her about Quatre made him want to blush. He didn't, of course, but he still wanted to. "I've been with Quatre Winner," he said finally, his green eyes steady as he took in the way the girl blinked at him.
"Wait...wasn't...isn't he the mark?" Catherine glared when the boy gave a sharp nod, not elaborating. "Okay, what's going on? First you leave, taking the job--I thought--and then that woman shows up looking for you and complaining that you've done nothing. Well, what's going on?"
"He's innocent." Trowa was gratified by the anger that crossed the girl's face, and he leaned against the wall. He knew she'd blame herself for having given him another case with an innocent target, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. She knew he'd look into it himself before acting, but she still tended to take the blame on herself. "I'm protecting him, now. The reason I came, is because someone tried to take him out. I need to know who."
"Well, do you know the woman?"
"Dorothy Catalonia."
"Okay." Catherine's eyes narrowed, and she leaned against the wall opposite him. "She's been looking everywhere for you. As far as I can tell, she hasn't gotten any good leads, but I do know that she's found someone else to take the job for her. Finelli."
"Him?"
The boy's eyelid twitched, the only evidence of his worry, and she shook her head quickly. "Not directly. One of his men, I don't know the name, but he's not very good. From what I've heard, the job is to kill Winner without it being an obvious murder attempt. I'm not saying it has to be an accident, there's been talk of maybe a robbery or something like that and he just happens to get killed as well." Trowa was glaring, and she frowned at the intensity in those green eyes. "Are you personally involved in this, Trowa?"
He knew why she asked, and Trowa glared at the floor. It wasn't like him to get personally involved, even if an innocent stood to suffer. Oh, he'd intervene, but he kept his own feelings out of it. But not with Quatre. "Yes, I...Catherine, I'm in love with him." She choked, and his lips twitched in a smirk. "I know."
"You...and you didn't tell me!" With an affronted glare, she raked the boy with her eyes. "So what? I'm just your informant now? You let me worry if someone's taken you out or something and here you are falling in love? Jerk."
"It's not like I planned it," Trowa said smoothly. They'd been together for years, and he understood why she'd be furious that he'd kept something from her. But there hadn't been too many opportunities to tell her, besides, it wasn't good news. "It doesn't matter, either. I intend to take care of Dorothy, and then I'll be back here."
"But...you said..." Catherine blinked as the boy's face closed, and she looked down sharply. "I see. I'm sorry, Trowa." The boy nodded, and she waved him toward the door. "If you left him alone, I guess you should probably get back quickly. That woman's job said to hurry."
"Yes."
.-.
He'd never woken so quickly, but Quatre was awake the moment a large hand clamped down over his mouth. Swallowing roughly, he kept very still as his eyes took in the shadowed figure leaning over him and he felt the emptiness beside him with a sinking heart. There was a bit of light in the room, and he knew without looking that the man had come in through the window. Then his eyes centered on a glinting blade as a long knife was waved in front of his eyes. Where are you? Trowa...
"Stay quiet and be still," the man whispered, his voice scratchy as he watched the pale boy. He wasn't too worried about the boy trying to scream since he'd noted the lock on the door and there was no way the females in the house would be able to break it before he escaped. "Where's your lover?"
I wish I knew... The hand was removed from his mouth, but Quatre couldn't get his throat working as he shook his head. Then the cool side of the knife was pressed to his cheek and he managed a quick whisper. "I don't know."
"Really?" The man let out a soft laugh as he straightened, and he looked around the room with glinting eyes. "Wasn't expecting that. Well, just makes it easier then." Glancing back to Quatre, he waved the knife in front of the boy in warning. "Don't move."
Nodding quickly, Quatre watched the man step to his desk, the sounds telling him the man was rifling through the papers there. He wanted to cry, to yell at Trowa for deserting him when he'd promised to protect him, but his pride leapt up to smack him for his thoughts. Stop it. I can't just sit and wait to be saved, that's so stupid. Maybe... His pale eyes followed the large form as the man moved to the dresser, and his breath sped up as he realized the man must not have looked in the middle drawer of his desk. If I can get to my gun...oh God...it's not... His throat clenched, and he choked suddenly. It's not loaded. Eyes burning when the man turned, he felt his muscles lock and he couldn't have moved even if there'd been somewhere to run.
"You know, rich kid like you, I expected you to have more than this lying around." The man glared at the watch and small wad of money he'd found, but he shoved it into a pocket. With a shrug, he stepped to the bed, leaning down as he eyed the boy. "I'm going to kill you now." Those pale eyes glimmered in the dark, and he smirked when Quatre closed them quickly, jaw clenched. "But it's such a waste."
His heart stopped as he waited, still frozen, then he blinked when a hand brushed his cheek. Gasping a quick breath, he was confused, his eyes following the knife as the man set it down on the stand beside the bed. Then the man smiled at him, and his fear was back, twofold.
"I'll make you a deal," the man said softly, his fingers brushing the boy's forehead. "Be good and I'll let you live a little longer. Not much, but a few minutes should do." The boy's eyes where very wide, and he moved down, taking the open mouth suddenly.
His paralysis broken, Quatre moved quickly, shoving against the man's shoulders as he was pressed into the bed. Terrified of death, he knew it was better than this, and he whimpered when the man caught his wrists with seeming ease and pushed them against the pillow. He twisted as the man climbed onto the bed, and he gasped when the mouth left his as he prepared to scream. Then his wrists were released suddenly, a hand clamping over his mouth again just before a fist met with his stomach.
The boy jerked beneath him, his cry muffled, and the man's eyes glinted as he released Quatre's mouth. He gasped roughly, tears trailing from his eyes, but he didn't cry out loud and the man nodded sharply. "I said to be good," he said softly. "That doesn't include screaming." With a quick pull, he ripped the boy's shirt, pushing it aside as he crouched over him, his hands moving over the pale chest. The boy flinched back, struggling weakly and he ducked his head, sinking his teeth into the boy's shoulder as he again held a hand over his mouth to muffle his cry. Then surprisingly strong hands were pushing against him, and he pulled back, glaring down at the blonde boy.
Those pale eyes were wild with pain and tears, and he glared. His right hand curled into a fist, but the man hit Quatre's cheek with the back of his hand. The boy gasped, and the man paused, watching him carefully. The chest beneath him was rising and he could hear the boy's ragged breaths, but he didn't move. His eyes were glazed and the man nodded when Quatre lay still, his face turned away. He never expected what happened next, and he groaned and slumped forward as the boy's knee suddenly connected with his groin.
Shoving the man off him, Quatre rolled onto his side and fell off the bed. His hand flew over the stand, knocking the knife to the floor, and he grabbed it as he pushed himself onto his feet. Instinct screamed at him to use it, but he simply couldn't stab the man in the back, and he edged to the door, jumping when the man straightened suddenly and turned to look at him. He'd never used a knife before, and he nearly moaned when the man tackled him, his grip on the weapon lost as he was knocked back. The man must have given up on silence, as his forward motion sent them into the dresser and Quatre groaned as he hit the side of it. His wide eyes caught the way his attacker moved back a bit, and he ducked his head quickly, raising his arms as the man sought to hit him in the face. The blow landed on his arm with enough force to send him to his knees, and he stared at the rustling edge of the curtains with dazed eyes. Then he frowned as something moved by him, his mind slow to understand. Trowa...?
Trowa didn't think. Having seen the open window, he'd known immediately, and he rushed the man he found, his fist cracking against the man's jaw. The man stumbled, and his eyes widened in fear a second before the boy buried his fist into his stomach and he slumped to the floor. Following him, Trowa landed another blow before he heard something and he remembered Quatre. The pale boy was standing near the window, and he stood quickly as he crossed the room and pulled him into his arms. I'm so sorry! Oh God, I'm sorry... The blonde boy's eyes were red, and he fell into the embrace, not even lifting his arms as he leaned against him. "Quatre..."
"I'm...okay..." He wanted to cry in the boy's arms, to have him just comfort him, but he took a sharp breath as he reminded himself of the man. Pushing back a bit, he curled his arms over his aching stomach and gave the tall boy a weak smile. "I'm so glad you came back, Trowa. Where did you go?"
"I went to find out...some things." Trowa's eyes burned at the way the slender boy seemed to sway, but Quatre had been the one to pull away. He'll never forgive me...I should have been here...I promised I'd be here...to protect him. The boy's eyes moved to the side, and Trowa's fists clenched as he remembered the man. "Dorothy hired him," he said coldly. "They want to kill you without it being an obvious murder attempt. I'm sorry, Quatre." Crossing the room, he bent as he retrieved a long knife, and his eyes narrowed into slits as he approached the fallen man.
"No! Trowa...please don't?" The tall boy flinched, but he didn't look up and Quatre took a slow step toward him.
"It's the only way," Trowa said softly. He suddenly wanted the boy to leave the room, and he thought about taking the man outside to do it. "Otherwise there's nothing to stop him from trying again."
"We can...call the police." Trowa turned sharply, and Quatre blinked before dropping his eyes. "We'll tell them it was an attempted robbery. He did take some things, so it's true."
"And what if they wonder where I was?" He wanted to kill him, the sight of the boy's unsteady stance and his ripped shirt made him want to do it slowly. But when Quatre looked at him, he knew he couldn't, those pale blue-green eyes were so haunted he couldn't bring himself to add more to the horrors he'd seen that night. "All right. I'll just tell them I was here, then." The blonde sighed softly, and Trowa stood.
"I should change..."
He seemed so lost, his head bowed so that Trowa couldn't see his face. Following him, Trowa laid a light hand on the shorter boy's shoulder, his eyes wide when Quatre was so slow to turn. "Quatre, are you all right?"
"I'm okay," Quatre said again, swallowing as his throat was dry. Then Trowa's eyes narrowed and he was suddenly pulled up against the boy's chest, strong arms circling him in a warm shielding embrace. With a choked cry, he collapsed against the boy, his arms holding tight to him as Trowa's cheek pressed against his hair. "Oh Trowa! I was so...scared..."
The boy seemed humiliated by the admission, and Trowa's eyes burned as he held him as close as he could. "I should have been here," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Quatre. You were defenseless...you were right to be scared."
"I forgot to load my gun." Tears spilled over, and Quatre pressed his face against Trowa's shirt, his eyes closed tightly. "I was so stupid. I'll never forget again, I swear I won't." He could tell from the movement in his hair that the boy was shaking his head, but it didn't help. "We should call the police now..."
"In a minute, there's time." Pressing a light kiss to the boy's soft hair, Trowa held him, his eyes closed. He couldn't stop imagining what he'd have found if he'd come back a few minutes too late, and he knew he had no one to blame but himself.
.-.
"They're kind of...colorful."
Trowa's eyes burned at the tremulous smile Quatre gave him, and his hands were ever so light as he touched the boy's stomach. The bruises were dark and mottled with different shades, and he shook his head at the thought of the boy's pain. Still, his face was worse, and just looking at the dark bruise on Quatre's cheek made him want to go and kill the man. The police had taken him, and the story, so he wouldn't be able to fulfill his desire. Instead, he pulled the blonde boy to him, brushing a light kiss over his lips. "You're still beautiful, Quatre. And you were very brave, never doubt that."
"I didn't think so," Quatre murmured, resting his uninjured cheek against the boy's neck as he cuddled closer to him in the bed. "I was pretty pathetic against him. I don't know how to defend myself."
"I'll teach you," Trowa promised, brushing a hand through the boy's hair. "And Quatre? I promise, I won't leave your side again. Not even for a moment."
Quatre sighed, a small smile curving his lips as the tall boy's strong arms tightened around his shoulders. "I know. That's one of the reasons I love you..." The boy stiffened at his soft words, but he held firm, staring at Trowa's chin. "I want you to know that, Trowa."
"Quatre..."
The boy's whisper was broken, and Quatre pushed himself up, staring into wide green eyes before giving him a light kiss. "It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I just...wanted you to know."
"I love you." The boy's smile made him melt, and Trowa gasped a quick breath, blinking as he gave a tiny nod. "I do."
"I hoped you would say that," Quatre smiled, unable to keep the grin from his face. "Oh, Trowa. I hoped you did." The boy was still staring at him, but he ducked his face back into the hollow of Trowa's neck, smiling against the warm skin. "I'm tired, now."
"Oh." With a mental slap to get his brain moving, Trowa pulled the quilt up over them. "Good...good night, Quatre." The slender boy sighed against his neck, and he let his lips move into a smile of his own. He loves me...and maybe...my past won't matter.