Ok so I got a new power cord for my computer, and it doesn't work. So that means there's something wrong with my computer battery! ARGH! Keeping me off the computer even longer. I can use my mom's but that's a battle I don't want to fight right now lol. Anyway, I promised another chapter, so here it is. It's kinda weird cuz it skips a lot of time, but I didn't feel like writing anything inbetween. Forgive me Here it is, anyway...
"We are very sorry for the inconvenience. We would like to offer you these," the girl said, handing them two tickets. "And this," she added, handing them something resembling a credit card.
"What is this?" they asked.
"They are tickets to a new play on Broadway and a 50 dollar universal gift card to be used for dinner before the show Saturday," she responded.
"Did you find out what the problem was with the elevator?" Quatre asked.
"Well, please don't tell anyone, but it appears that a small animal chewed on the wires in the basement and it shorted out. We're having an exterminator come in tomorrow and such," she answered quietly.
"Well, thank you very much for these, but we don't need them," Quatre said.
"Please take them. My boss was very insistent about me making sure you did. It's like he blames me for what happened or something. I don't want him to get mad," she begged. Trowa took the tickets and the card from Quatre.
"Thank you very much," Trowa said simply and motioned toward the stairs.
"It's such a waste. I could buy tickets. Those were probably supposed to be raffled off or something," Quatre began.
"We don't need them. But I'm sure Hilde could do with a night off huh? You said she doesn't see Duo much, so they can go together," Trowa said. Quatre's smile was so big it almost hurt him. "You're rubbing off on me, I don't know how I feel about that," Trowa joked.
"Are you still walking me to my door?" Quatre asked, hopeful.
"Of course. I'm a man of my word. Let's stop at my room first so I can put this stuff away." Trowa opened the door, placing the pencils down on the table inside the door with the sketch pad. He almost had a heart attack when the light turned on.
"Where have you been!" Wufei asked.
"I was stuck in the elevator!" Trowa replied, unable to comprehend what the boy was doing here.
"I called you like 30 times! I was worried about you!" Wufei yelled, throwing his arms up in the air. He suddenly looked around the taller boy. "You have company?"
"Yes. This is Quatre," Trowa said, gently pulling the boy into the apartment. Wufei stared at him for a long time. He got a horrible feeling. The purity oozing from this boy… He feared what might happen if he didn't keep an eye on things. Trowa didn't exactly go out and make friends, much less bring them back to the apartment, unless he meant them to be models.
"Hello Quatre," the Chinese boy finally said.
"You must be Wufei," Quatre said, offering his hand, which was taken reluctantly. He could feel the concern in the handshake.
"Quatre's going to be modeling for me," Trowa said softly. Wufei dropped Quatre's hand.
"Would you excuse us a moment," Wufei asked Quatre. Quatre nodded and went into the hall. "Do you know what you're doing? Why did you wait until I was out of here to start doing your art again?"
"It's just a coincidence, I swear it," Trowa assured him.
"When did you meet him?" Wufei asked.
"…Today," Trowa replied, looking at the floor.
"This is just like Zechs you know that? This is dangerous for you. I'll be damned if I find you in a few months in a puddle of blood," Wufei warned.
"I don't want to talk about that," Trowa said defiantly.
"Well you know what? You're going to have to. It's hardly fair to let him do this without telling him what happened. I can tell you're attracted to him. You can't honestly tell me that this is going to stay professional. He's a beautiful kid, and he's just what you're looking for. I knew you were hiding something from me, some sort of intention, but I wanted to trust that you would come to me," Wufei rambled, pacing back and forth in front of the piano.
"He's nothing like Zechs," Trowa retorted. He clenched his fists and his jaw.
"No? He's blonde to start. You're attracted to him second. You're bringing him to the apartment after knowing him for a day. He's probably never modeled before has he?" Wufei listed, pointing to his fingers.
"Maybe I want to move on. You think I don't look at my scar and warn myself about what could happen! What I know, is that Quatre respects me, and he has his reasons for doing this! I know he doesn't have bad intention," Trowa began.
"Neither did Zechs! He had the same hidden reason for taking the job, and he used you and then he destroyed you!" Wufei yelled.
Quatre wrapped his arms around himself. He shouldn't be listening, but they were talking so loud he could hear them from the hall three doors away… It wasn't fair that Trowa's secrets were being exposed to him this way…
"You don't own me Wufei! I love you, you're my best friend, but this is something I need! I need to stop being depressed all the time. I need to draw again. I want to paint and create things again. I won't let things get like they were!" Trowa yelled back at him. Wufei put a hand on his head.
"Stay here," Wufei said.
"What are you gonna do?" Trowa asked.
"Do you trust me?" Wufei asked, putting his arms on Trowa's shoulders. Trowa nodded slowly. "Then stay here." He walked out into the hall and down to where Quatre was standing. "We need to talk. I don't mean to accuse you, but there are things you need to know, and have to tell me if you want this to continue."
"I don't need to know anything," Quatre assured him. Wufei sighed. "I know you're his best friend, and you're looking out for him, but we sort of made a promise to keep our secrets until we were more comfortable with each other."
"Will you listen to me anyway?" Wufei asked.
"I heard," Quatre said.
"No, you have no idea," Wufei said.
"My father owns 'Of Despair.'" Quatre said. Wufei almost collapsed. His eyes widened.
"That was," he began, but could not finish. "It belongs to the," he started again.
"The Winner family. I am Quatre Raberba Winner. You can look it up if you feel the need," Quatre interrupted.
"Why are you doing this?" Wufei asked.
"Let me assure you, Wufei, that I have only good intentions. When I saw that painting in the hallway, I was overtaken with pain. I could see where the red had mixed with blood while no one was the wiser. I am empathic, and I am able to sense extreme emotion in things such as that. I had a panic attack because my heart was racing so fast. I decided then, that some day, I would have to find the artist and try and help him," Quatre began.
"I told him to burn that painting, people would see, and be disgusted," Wufei said.
"Luckily he didn't. I'll assume you know what lengths my father went through to get it," Quatre said.
"No, I never actually asked. We just picked up one huge check and had it put in the bank for him," Wufei said.
"5 million dollars," Quatre said. Wufei almost collapsed again.
"That's almost half of the check!" Wufei yelled in shock.
"My father is a big fan of art. He said something about it jumped at him. He actually bought it to give to me. He's always trying to bribe me to go to business school instead of music school. That reminds me, that's your piano in there isn't it?"
"Yeah, I searched long and hard for that piano. Trowa bought it for me, but it's actually like I made him get a present for himself. I was hoping he would pick up music and pour himself into that instead. I didn't want him falling apart again with his art. He nearly died…" Wufei said with chills.
"He wouldn't go to the hospital would he?" Quatre asked. Wufei shook his head. "You must've gone to great lengths to heal him. I know you're only looking out for what's best for Trowa. I've actually known Trowa for months now, without knowing who he was. I see him in the coffee shop all the time. I always wanted to talk to him but I chickened out. The girl that works there, they've become friends, and she played the middle man to work all this out. When she told me that Trowa was Trowa, I thought I would… explode or something ridiculous.
It didn't seem possible that the person I swore to help someday was this boy that I wanted to meet. He was always so angry or sad, so I never got the nerve up to start a conversation. When we got stuck on the elevator and I tried to talk with him, I could just sense that he was pressing for a good memory. I know his life has been nothing but pain, and every new person in his life or every person he's loved has been ripped away from him and nearly destroyed him. I want to help him put those pieces back together, more than ever now.
I have no intentions of getting involved with him right now, but know that I do have feelings for him. I just want to get to know him better and try to share these things I've told you, with him. I find most people bury things, the things that hurt them, so deep that it becomes them. Every person they try to trust enough to tell they turn away because they're afraid that the person will leave. I'm hoping I can prove that he can trust me and tell me all he's told you, and all the things he'd been afraid to. I want," Quatre began.
"Please," Wufei interrupted, putting a hand up. "You don't have to explain yourself any further. For the time being, I'll trust you. I just worry… He could lose it. He could break down for any reason. There were things in the beginning that triggered memories of Zechs and sent him into fits when we first got here. That's something you should know. You're like him in a lot of ways, but you're also very different. I only had the misfortune of meeting the guy twice, but I knew he was going to end up hurting Trowa. I don't sense that in you. Be prepared also, for him to push you away a lot, even when you get close…"
"I'm afraid I pushed the limit a bit today. He doesn't like to be touched," Quatre remarked. Wufei shook his head.
"He doesn't like to be touched affectionately. I tried to pet his hair once, when he was crying, and he locked himself in the bathroom for over an hour. Just, if you really want to help him, you're going to have to very patient. I'm daring to hope that you can help," Wufei clarified.
"Patience and time are really all I have," Quatre assured. Wufei gently grasped Quatre's shoulder. He went back into the apartment.
"Is he gone now?" Trowa asked. He looked angry and upset at the same time.
"No, he's still in the hall. He's not going anywhere. I'll leave it at, for now, that I trust him. If you start feeling like you felt before, I want you to call me," Wufei said. Trowa's mood lightened. "I'll even go so far as to say this might be good for you. Promise me you'll call me."
"I'll call you if I start getting… crazy again," Trowa said for lack of a better word. "You should get back before Sally gets worried about you."
"I'm going, but I think you should stop lying to Quatre about the piano," Wufei joked. Trowa looked at him with confusion. "You bought the piano, because you wanted to learn how to play. It doesn't belong to me."
"I bought it for you," Trowa argued.
"You bought it because I wanted to teach you, and we had no piano to practice on. Don't you think I would've taken it along with my other things?"
"You're an ass," Trowa replied with a laugh. Wufei smirked.
"You might want to invite Quatre in now." With that he left, making sure not to take the elevator. Trowa walked into the hall.
"Quatre," he said softly. Quatre came to the doorway.
"You don't have to walk me to my door. It's almost 5 now. We're both tired and it makes no sense for you to come up there to come back down again," Quatre began. His eyes suddenly widened as arms wrapped tightly around him. He hesitated before hugging Trowa back. When Trowa finally pulled back he was smiling and teary eyed.
"I don't know what you said to him to convince him, but thank you," Trowa whispered. Quatre was still in shock a little.
"I just told him the truth," Quatre remarked.
"Then I'm glad that you're here. You've instilled more hope in me."
"I'm glad."
"I think we should go to Long Island tomorrow. We could catch a train, and go to one of the lighthouses. We'll have to dress warm though, it's really cold on the beaches this time of year." Quatre laughed.
"We'll probably be asleep through the whole actual day. By the time we get up, eat, shower, and leave it'll be dark again," Quatre joked. Trowa looked a little hurt. "Not tomorrow. On Sunday, when it's not so busy on the trains," Quatre suggested. Trowa smirked.
"See, you're already getting that demanding attitude," he kidded. Quatre laughed with him. They went to the beach every Sunday for almost 4 months. Trowa knocked on Quatre's door one Sunday morning and he didn't answer the door. He'd given Trowa a copy of his key, as Trowa had given one to him for whatever reason. He opened the door and turned on the light. "Hello?"
There came no answer. It occurred to Trowa suddenly, that he'd only ever been in Quatre's living room. He felt lonely. He walked through the apartment looking for light switches that he didn't really care to turn on. He heard a soft hissing sound down the hall that just stopped. He pushed Quatre's door open. Steam billowed out of the bathroom connected to the bedroom. Trowa put his hand over his eyes and tripped backward out of the room as a very wet, naked Quatre reentered his room. Quatre yelped and covered himself, also falling backward.
"I'm so sorry! I had no right!" Trowa began still closing his eyes beneath his fingers. He could hear Quatre laughing nervously.
"It's just you," Quatre said, laughing harder. "I thought someone was just in my apartment." He came out once he'd put on boxers to comfort Trowa. He pulled his hand off his face and stared at him.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just come in without saying anything. I should've called up here first. I should've said your name when I came in the room," Trowa rambled.
"You know you wanted to catch me in the shower. Was it everything you hoped for?" Quatre joked, resisting the urge to touch Trowa's face. And actually, in addition to trying to hide the embarrassment of seeing Quatre naked, he was trying to hide the fact that he was aroused. He turned a deep red. "I don't think I've ever seen you blush so badly." Quatre's teasing was not helping the situation.
"I was worried," Trowa began again, starting to rant. He opened his eyes to look at Quatre. That made it worse. He was clad only in boxers. He wasn't ready to have the relationship he was undoubtedly going to start if he stayed.
"Hey I said don't worry about it. It's really my fault. I woke up late and I didn't start getting ready til right now. I should've called you to let you know. Then you could've come up and sat in the living room or something," Quatre assured him.
"I have to go!" Trowa announced suddenly, attempting to stand. Quatre fell backward and Trowa stumbled over him. He put his hand over his face again and helped Quatre up.
"I didn't mean to tease you Trowa. I'm sorry. Please don't go," Quatre pleaded, feeling guilty.
"It's not about that at all. I just… I have to go. I'll… I'll come back in an hour and we can catch a later train," Trowa assured him. He rushed out and back to his apartment. Quatre put his hands on his hips and then grinned to himself. Perhaps Trowa was trying to hiding something else… He giggled to himself as he got dressed and made breakfast, making a note to continue teasing Trowa later.
Trowa braced himself against his door and slid to the ground. He felt like saying something cliché aloud, like 'Phew that was close,' but decided it was too ridiculous. Sometimes he wondered how Quatre always seemed to sound amusing when he said something cliché while most people just sounded like idiots. He was one of those people. Quatre would tease him for months if he said something cliché. He would probably tease him mercilessly regarding the current situation… Speaking of which, he needed to take a very cold shower. Just the thought of seeing Quatre's body was… Cold shower… cold shower…
Quatre got off the elevator and went to Trowa's apartment. He'd been waiting an hour and 50 minutes for Trowa. He was worried now, but not very seriously. He figured Trowa had just been embarrassed and wanted some time alone. Upon entering he heard soft, breathy moans from Trowa's bedroom. He gasped and put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. His was grinning as he slammed the door shut. He heard things falling over in Trowa's room, as he assumed, Trowa tried to compose himself.
"Trowa?" he called out for good measure. "I was getting worried. It's been nearly two hours! Are you alright?"
"Yeah! Uh, just gimme a second!" Trowa called back in distress. Quatre started with heavy footsteps toward his bedroom.
"Are you sure you're ok? Do you need help? What are you doing?" Quatre called. He had no intention of actually going in.
"No! I mean yes! I mean… I'm fine. I'm just getting cleaned up!" Trowa called back frantically. Trowa was trying miserably to make his arousal go away. The shower hadn't helped because he couldn't stop thinking about Quatre. He had been trying to get rid of it the old fashioned way until Quatre had come in. He tried to zip up his pants but his erection was painfully obvious.
"I was thinking, that might be a good idea for us! I could hold a towel over me and look shocked while you sketch me!" Quatre teased. Trowa groaned thinking about how he'd try to hide an erection over the course of a few hours as drew Quatre…
"I uh… I don't think I could handle that right now," Trowa replied, his voice almost breaking.
"Not now of course, maybe when we get back," Quatre teased.
"About that… I don't think we should go to Long Island today. So much has happened to throw off our schedule," Trowa said in an attempt to change the subject and stall for time.
"That's fine with me. Why don't you come out here and talk with me. Aren't you done cleaning up? It's not like you to be messy," Quatre called. Trowa gripped his forehead and paced a little. What could he do? Trowa didn't say anything. "So about that idea… I thought I would be a little demanding. I don't mind showing a little skin," Quatre said. Trowa fell to the floor.
"I don't mind showing a little skin," Zechs joked. "I was in a thong when you met me. There isn't much you haven't seen."
"Yeah I guess that's right," Trowa replied. He had felt odd asking the blonde to his shirt off.
"Any time you want me to strip, I'd be happy to," Zechs said, winking at Trowa. Trowa blushed. Halfway through finishing the pastels he was interrupted.
"You know, you're really cute when you blush," Zechs began. Trowa blushed again. Zechs stood up and moved toward him.
Trowa stood up and backed Quatre against the wall.
"And you're very hot when you're concentrating so hard. I hope you'll forgive me, if I offend you," he added, knocking the things out of Trowa's lap. Trowa's mouth hung open as he stood up. He was backed against the wall. Zechs grabbed his wrists and pinned them over his head with one hand, touching his jaw with the other.
Trowa grabbed Quatre's wrists and pinned them against the wall. "Trowa! What are you doing? I didn't mean to tease you so much. Trowa!"
"And you are unbelievable sexy like this," Zechs said pressing their lips together. Trowa shivered in pleasure. Zechs unbuttoned his shirt with one hand while kissing him.
"Trowa!" Trowa maneuvered so that he captured both wrists with one hand and pressed his lips to Quatre. He then forcefully spun him around and shoved him on the bed.
"And I want you," Zechs whispered lustfully, turning him toward the bed, pushing him onto it. He was afraid for sure, but he'd wanted it, for a long time... "Don't be afraid Trowa. I'll be gentle," he promised him, kissing down his chest.
"Trowa! Snap out of it!" Quatre was sitting on the end of the bed, his legs forced apart. Trowa kneeled between them, staring into his eyes, but not really seeing Quatre in front of him. He put his hands on Quatre's cheeks and slowly came back. He blinked furiously until tears moistened his dry eyes. He wrapped his arms around Quatre and pulled him close, sobbing into his shoulder. Quatre but his arms around Trowa's neck, pulling him closer. "It's ok now…"
"I could've done something horrible to you Quatre," he whispered.
"You didn't. I set you off somehow. I shouldn't have been teasing you like that," Quatre declared.
"Did I…say anything?" he asked fearfully.
"No, you just had this blank look on your face," Quatre told him.
"Did I touch you? Did I hurt you?" Trowa asked.
"No, I'm not hurt. You kissed me…" Quatre answered honestly. Trowa tensed. "I'm sorry, do you need space?"
"No, it's not that," Trowa said, pushing back to look at Quatre's face. "That's not how I wanted to do it… I ruined it…"
"You didn't really do anything. You were totally possessed. I promise, next time you kiss me I'll count it as our first," Quatre joked. Trowa's hand tangled in Quatre's hair and pulled his face close enough to feel Quatre's breath mix with his.
"I wanted you to be intoxicated," Trowa whispered. Quatre's lip quivered and his eyes felt heavy. Trowa's eyes were already closed. He didn't want to make any moves. He wanted in all to be Trowa's decision. Maybe he wasn't ready for this really...
"I don't want you to feel obligated to rectify the situation now," Quatre whispered.
"Can I ask a selfish favor?"
"Alright."
"If I wanted to do it anyway, could you forget about it?" Trowa asked. It would be a very selfish thing to ask most people, but for them, it was right. Quatre wanted Trowa to kiss him as badly as Trowa wanted to kiss him. They both knew, now was not the time to start something like this but they wanted so much to hold on to this kiss… This one gentle memory to hold on to until they were ready, a reminder of things they would eventually share…
"If you promise that one day you'll kiss me again," Quatre returned selfishly. Trowa smiled and laughed along with Quatre.
"It's a deal," Trowa whispered. Quatre cupped Trowa's cheek and eased the distance closed. Their lips touched softly, timidly parting to deepen the kiss. Their tongues massaged each other for a few sweet moments and the parted breathless. They were still very close to each other when they opened their eyes.
"That was amazing," Quatre commented. Trowa's eyes closed again as he smiled. Quatre's hand fell away from Trowa's face.
"I wish it had never ended," Trowa added.
"What will we do now?"
"We should take a nap," Trowa suggested, moving to collapse on his stomach atop the bed. Quatre fell back and stared at Trowa.
"We just slept all night, and you want to nap?" he joked. Trowa smiled.
"I feel drowsy," he jested back. Quatre laughed.
"Let's go to the coffee shop. We can hang out with Hilde."
"Five more minutes!" Trowa whined. He smiled to himself as he pulled off a cliché line and managed to avoid scrutiny.
"Well alright, but only five," Quatre said. Trowa smiled wider.
"Thank you mommy."
"Don't go there," Quatre demanded with a laugh.
"Is something wrong?" Trowa asked. Quatre hesitated. "You don't have to tell me…"
"It's just… my mother, I never knew her."
"Did she leave?"
"She died, giving birth to me…" Trowa swallowed hard. He moved closer to Quatre and put an arm around him, pulling him closer. He could tell the blonde was trying not to cry. "We're batting a thousand today huh?" Quatre wiped his eyes and let out a laugh.
"That's the second time you've done that today," he joked.
"Done what?"
"Coined a phrase," Quatre replied, with a smile.
"I didn't think you'd noticed. I thought they fit the situation. Actually I was afraid if I ever said something cliché I would be ragged on by you for months," Trowa admitted. They both laughed.
"I probably would have if you said something ridiculously cliché."
"You do it all the time, but it just always works."
"That's because I'm a very talented linguist," Quatre gloated. Trowa shoved him and they laughed again. Trowa got quiet, as he figured he might as well bring up another touchy subject.