On his end, Trowa resisted the urge to sigh. This was the third time this week that he'd called, and the third time he'd missed Quatre. It was all just circumstance, of course, but it was hard to ignore the human stirrings of paranoia that made him think he was being avoided.
"Any idea when he'll be in, Duo?"
"Not really. Since we moved, he was quick to do his usual thing and explore and make friends with the neighbors, you know? He's joined like nine community events on top of work, so it's kinda hard to predict. I thought he'd be in at like eight yesterday, and do you know what time he came creeping in?"
Trowa rolled his eyes, "No, what time?"
"Eleven! Can you believe it? Apparently the library club he's in now decided to go out for drinks! Ain't that great? Quatre out with a bunch of bored housewives at the bar gossiping!" Duo laughed, the sound tinny through the line as it reached his ear. "I tell you, if I weren't so sure he and I were serious, I'd be sniffing his collars for perfume to see if those broads aren't going for him."
"Right, well, if you see him before it's too late-"
He was cut off by Duo's perky response. "Yeah, yeah, got it, buddy. I'll give him the message."
"Thanks. Bye, Duo, have a good night."
"You too, buddy! Talk to you soon and hope the new apartment's working out!"
Trowa hung up softly, looking at the phone before he turned to look around at the apartment in question. Boxes were strewn everywhere, some pulled open and their contents spilled out like innards, others just ignored. He should have been moved in last week, but every time he started, he'd come across something or just start thinking and get discouraged. The tiny place with it's one bedroom and it's kitchen/dining room/living room just didn't feel welcoming. It was his new home, and yet he wasn't trying to make it feel more accepting.
It was all junk, after all. The books he stepped over were nice enough, but they wouldn't make this feel place feel right. Neither would the cds. It was just material items that felt like just that at the moment, and even with it unpacked, these rooms would be cold and unfriendly.
He moved into his bedroom and peeled of his turtleneck, tossing it into one corner as he dropped onto the mattress that lay on the floor. A mess. His room was never this bad at the other house, but then again, there had been other people to complain or keep happy, and cleaning had been instinctive there. Part of the peace they had worked together to maintain. He wasn't in denial; he knew it was those very people and their absences now that made this place seem desolate.
Trowa was lonely.
And disgusted by it. He groaned and rolled over to his side. Any day there and he'd be smelling Quatre's cooking, hearing Wufei and Duo squabble somewhere about something, and listening for the sound of Heero's fingers racing over his keyboard. Now Quatre was out with old women miles away, Wufei was in the city working in a stuffy office building, and Duo was home alone in another town and willing to talk to even him for company. And Heero… Well, it was better for him not to think of his state. It was too morbid to wonder if the worms had started in on Heero. He had been a friend, a confident, and a teammate. Trowa would not delve into such thoughts and taint the images he had of the boy.
Was everyone else happy? Or were they miserable like him? He couldn't say. Quatre had sounded thrilled when they'd spoken just before the move, excited, but he had talked to him since. Duo, therefore, had also been ecstatic. Why not? He had everything he wanted. Wufei was grudging as usual, but even he had spoken excitedly of his new projects in the city and of the design of his new place, and in lengths (much to Trowa's horror) of each and every piece of exotic oriental furniture he had picked up or ordered. It was a one sided conversation. He'd been feeling the aches of loneliness even then and so had listened attentively if only to hear a familiar voice. It felt like happiness, from Wufei at least. So why couldn't he move on?
XxXxX
Duo hung up the phone, and the jubilant smile that had been in place all throughout the call faded away into blankness. He untangled his fingers from the curling cord and was careful to step out of it's loops on the floor as he moved over to the kitchen door.
He listened.
Nothing. Down below, in the room he'd set up (and very well to give himself credit), Quatre slept on. He knew it was bad to keep Quatre drugged so consistently. It made giving him vitamins and feeding him difficult, but more and more, if felt dangerous to leave the blonde awake. There was the off chance of a car coming by, or mail, or even someone needing to use the phone, and Quatre had already shown himself more than willing enough to scream.
Why couldn't he just understand?
Duo sighed as he recalled his countless attempts to patch over this rocky spot with his lover. He'd sat in that chair for hours, or beside the bed, trying to pet soft platinum locks on a boy who fought to edge away from him. He tried to explain what had happened last year, and why, and how it was the reason they could be so happy now, but Quatre was… Being difficult.
The Arabian would stare at him with dull glassy eyes, accusing him again and again and making Duo feel angry. He wouldn't even try to see things for what they really were. He wouldn't speak much any more, and when he did, it was just to reiterate that same nonsense about Heero's death… Or to scream.
He'd grown to hate the harsh sounds coming from the teen. Each time those lips parted to release one, Duo felt like it was digging straight into his brain, causing bleeding deep within, and the blood was growing poisoned. Last time, he'd done something bad, something that made him cry even now to remember it. He loved Quatre, with all his heart, but two days ago when he'd let the drugs where off to start feeding the blonde (Quatre was looking too thin, and pale and it worried him so he'd had no choice), the blonde had started these siren-like shrieks. At him. Calling him a killer. It felt like the world was crushing in on him with those harsh rising tones.
He'd had to make it stop, and before he'd known what he was doing, he was looking down at the pillow he'd pressed over his lover's face and feeling Quatre's kicking limbs beneath him slow.
Duo stopped in time, and had fled up the ladder with Quatre's choking gasps chasing behind him.
Quatre was okay, he'd seen that the next day when he managed to drag himself out of bed and moved to look down from the pantry trap door, but he seemed less somehow. He hadn't struggled when Duo had crept down with the needle. Quatre just stared at him, crying a seemingly endless stream of tears.
He hadn't talked since then, but Duo knew that he would. When he did, it would probably be an apology too, because maybe it had been enough to shake Quatre out of this stupid self pity. It didn't make that slip right, but at least something good could come of it. Duo would be more careful too. When the situation started to feel hopeless again, he'd just leave the blonde for the day and sit upstairs in there room, watching the light play on the wall above the bed. When Quatre did snap out of it, he thought they'd go out shopping, and pick the perfect picture to hang right there. One that would glow when the sun set.
It was time to check on him again, though. Still too soon for that understanding, he knew, but he couldn't neglect his boyfriend's care any more. He'd helped Quatre through rough times before, and he'd help with this too.
Duo moved over to the fridge, opening it and selecting another medicinal bottle from the growing supply he'd started on it's shelves, and then moving to a drawer to pick up a clean needle. If he didn't drug him, Quatre might work himself up enough to sick up his meal again, and that simply wouldn't do.
When those were safe in pocket, he began making his love another lunch. By the time the soup on the stove was bubbling, Duo was humming to himself and thinking of a trip he wanted them to take next year. Quatre would look gorgeous stretched out on a beach chair in the sun.
XxXxX
"Trowa."
He'd gotten desperate, and even the neutral tone of greeting from the oriental man was appealing to his startlingly socially starved brain. Who could believe he'd gotten so used to that silly mock-family that he had craved this?
"Hi Wufei.
"What's going on? Why did you call?"
Brief as usual, Trowa didn't mind Wufei's bluntness. He didn't want meaningless chatter either. He just… I miss them. I should have been the most likely to adapt to this, and I miss them. All of them. Duo would laugh himself sick if he knew.
If he was feeling this, then surely one of the other's was too?
"Nothing. I just wanted to check in with you. You mentioned that new couch last week, and I wondered if it had come in?"
"You called to ask about my couch?"
Trowa winced at Wufei's disbelieving repeat. "Yes."
"Trowa…" He heard the sigh carried across the miles. "Why don't you just go and visit them? You'll run into him at the house eventually, you know? And in the mean time, you and Maxwell can annoy each other to your hearts' content."
He couldn't help but snicker ruefully. "Is it that obvious?"
"You said you'd called about my furniture, and you -have- to ask? Your shields are breaking apart. Just visit them. You'll feel better knowing they've settled in and reestablishing your ties, and then maybe you can call me when you've actually got something to say."
"Sorry."
"Don't be, Trowa." Another soft sigh, then in a softer voice, "And whatever you do hear, tell me, all right?"
Not much, but enough. He wasn't the only one feeling pangs of this, but Wufei was slightly better at distracting himself from it. It felt absurdly nice to have that familiarity with someone.
"I will. Thanks, Wufei."
"You're welcome. I'm serious though, just drop by. Duo will love it, especially if you bring him some of that american junk food you know Quatre disapproves of. Make whatever excuse you want, but don't procrastinate."
The sound of the disconnect was distant as the Latin ex-pilot considered. He could do that. Just pack a bag, and… And say he was on his way through town, to check out some merchandize for his boss. Or even to pick up some newly delivered animals. And he'd wanted to stop in and say hi. Duo would probably invite him in before he'd even gotten the story out, and they could talk. Then sometime, Quatre would have to come back, and he could watch and make sure that his best friend was all right.
Duo was long over whatever jealousy and worry he'd felt about Trowa and his interest in Quatre, and it would be fine. He could clear his mind of this worry, and start on the right foot knowing not much had changed.
He moved into his room with lighter steps, laying his backpack on the bed and tossing clothing into a pile next to it.
XxXxX
"Hey, darling. How are you feeling today?"
Duo set the bag down on the surface of the forgotten and lopsided coffee table in one corner of the cellar, and began pulling out sealed tubberware containers. He didn't really expect an answer, but was still disappointed when he didn't get one. Looking back over his shoulder as he arranged Quatre's meal revealed that the blonde had turned his head the other way again, as if the sight of Duo sickened him.
"You could at least try, you know?" The redhead snapped tiredly, as he stood and grunted at his popping knees before making his way over with the still softly steaming bowl and a soup. "I brought you lunch. Your favorite too, even though you know I hate the smell of clam chowder. Can't you at least give me a smile?"
Nothing. He could see the side of the Arabian's profile before he sank to his knees on the old mattress, and he was crying again, damn it. If there was anything Quatre could do now, it was that.
Duo clicked his tongue as he set the bowl aside and rolled the smaller male's frame over onto his back, mindful of the restrains on his wrists and the chain that stretched from them to the metal flooring that held the ladder in place. Simple. He could have picked it in half a second himself. Quatre wasn't that good at that though, and the drugs didn't hurt.
No struggle as Quatre's body slumped into place. Duo carefully started propping him up on the pillow, then considerately wiped away those tears. They'd soaked his collar again, and the dirt there was thicker. He'd have to change the blonde before too long. Actually…
"I bet I know what's wrong, Kitten… You feel nasty, don't you? In those clothes? Time to get you a new pair again, huh? All right. Lunch can wait. I'll get those off you first and give you your sponge bath, then we'll get you tucked in and see if that's better, okay?"
He smiled strongly at the slow blink the other boy gave him. "We'll have you tidied up in no time."
It was hard to ignore the way Quatre didn't move as he undid the buttons on the other's faded pink shirt, not even when he was lifted up to it could be peeled off and tossed to the side. He let Duo lay him back down without a sound, then start in on his pants. No belt, because the American had forgotten it last time he'd give him a bath a few days ago. Which was fine, in Duo's opinion. Damned thing always was a pain whenever we were starting to get frisky anyway.
Smirking, he remembered the time he'd had so much trouble with it he'd threatened to spank Quatre with it if he didn't get it off himself in the next twenty seconds and then how the blonde had hustled. That's been at that amusement park, behind one of rides.
"Hey babe?" He pulled the pants off Quatre's pale legs and flung them to lay over the shirt, then let his hand slowly travel up the outside of one calf and to the curve of a thigh. "Remember that time at Fun Land, after I won you that big blue bear? Behind the Kamikazi?"
He thought he saw some reaction there. A little twitch of Quatre's lips.
"You tasted like cotton candy. God, I wanted you so bad…" He slipped his fingers up under the hem of the blue silk boxers, blind to the way they hung loose around his waist, and were stained from his own lack of attention. Cool fingers brushed the side of warm but limp flesh, and then Quatre was moving. His eyes widened, dazed and wet, and rolled to Duo's face.
Seeing me. He's seeing me again. Waking up. Good. Duo smiled, bending to hover over Quatre's chest as he lowered his mouth and lightly kissed the hallows under his ribs, murmuring, "I thought I'd go mad with you rubbing up against me like that. Never been one for teasing, but shit, Quatre, you were incrediable…"
Duo moaned softly, remembering the smell of the fry bread and Quatre's laughter as they rode the rides, clinging to him in terror and still laughing because everything would be okay. Duo was there and would protect him, just like he would now. He could perfectly recall the way all the lights they'd passed had lit Quatre's hair like a rainbow, and how that blue bear had made him look like a kid. Like the sweetest piece of jailbait the world had seen, and how Duo'd thought he'd just about come in his pants every time the blonde smirked at him that night. They'd fumbled behind that low mesh guarding the ride with it's screaming passangers, and when Quatre'd gripped him through the rough material of his pants, he thought it was heaven even with the noise and smoky smell and little kids running everywhere.
He pushed Quatre's boxers down as he fumbled with his own pants, impatiently shoving both layers down at once and toeing off his shoes as well. He stretched out over that cool and shaking body as he nibbled at the sallow skin covering Quatre's collar bone, licking at it and tasting not the salty terror that was there, but sugar and Quatre's excitement that night. They couldn't stop touching each other. Not even on the car ride home. He'd almost crashed three times, and Quatre was still laughing when they got in the door and barely remembered to shut it. They'd made love on the carpet there, and had whispered to each other about being quiet lest the others upstairs hear.
They'd laughed together, breathless and in the dark, and then they'd panted as they rode each other's passion.
Quatre whimpered as Duo's hands pushed his legs apart, trying to close them in spite of the drugs, but the redhead didn't hear it as he started to suck lightly on one of the other boy's dusky rose nipples. Locked inside by shock, Quatre felt the disgust and terror wash through him like liquid ice, and he cried mutely as Duo shoved two fingers into him and started twisting them around.
Scream. Just scream. Duo will hear that. He'll stop. He… He doesn't know what he's like right now. Wake him up.
But he couldn't. His throat closed and not even another whimper made it out as the redhead pulled his fingers out, and then positioned himself. He was smiling, soft and almost sweet, remembering, as he pushed into Quatre, tearing and bruising. He was smiling… And to him, Quatre was too. He was looking up at him with those aqua eyes and that sweet, knowing expression, and they were laughing again as they moved together.
The pain, red and hateful and blinding, was enough, and Quatre found the power to scream. He screamed until he choked on blood from the aggravated flesh. He screamed and his hands curled into claws and cut into his palms. He shook his head back and forth, because this couldn't happen, and he screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
But even his loudest cry of misery and betrayal wasn't enough to overrun the sounds of the carnival and crowds in Duo's mind. They were going on the ferris wheel again, Quatre pulling at his hand and looking back over one shoulder with that smug smile, and Duo just knew he'd get kissed at the top one more time…