Alright, sorry it took so long to get this up. I've been working and sleeping and trying to write, but I still haven't gotten my computer fixed so it's hard to get on the computer to type. My mom is all RAH RAH RAH IT'S MY COMPUTER! And I'm like ...shut up... lol not really, I just nod and leave. So anyway, uhm... here is the next chapter, I hope you like it The next one should be up in 2 or 3 days when I get to typing it up.

"If I draw you like you asked, are you going to try to seduce me?" Trowa asked, turning a little red.

"Of course not! When it comes to art, this is completely professional. I only tease you when we're hanging out."

"What I just did… it was when he first made a move on me. I'd only asked him to take off his shirt, and then, well I was in your position. I had wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to be attracted to me. He was sexy down to his toes, and his voice, that was what got me most. That soft, always seductive tone he had…" Trowa began. Quatre listened, and he was thankful it didn't make him uncomfortable.

"Well I'm not the seducing type I don't think. I'm a bit reserved when it comes to… sexual things," Quatre replied.

"Are you still…" Trowa began but bit his lip to stop himself. It wasn't any of his business. They were not together, he reminded himself.

"Well I'm a virgin in the sense that I haven't taken or given sex. But there was one time, a boy, a friend of the family," Quatre began, turning red as he tried to explain it delicately. "He went down on me."

"Was it a one time thing?" Trowa asked.

"It happened a few times. He always waited until I was going back to my room and followed me into the hall. We kissed a few times before, but it never went farther than, well you know," Quatre said.

"Did he hurt you?" Trowa asked.

"I was a little upset when I didn't hear from him, but I just sort of accepted that all we could have was this secret. I was lonely, and I wanted someone to care about me, even just those few fleeting moments…"

"I understand. I met him on the beach. He was tanning in a thong. He had a great body, long blonde hair, crystal blue eyes… It was like a dream come true. He was just what I was looking for, and when he agreed so readily I felt like I might just, explode or something."

"I'll probably see him around Christmas. We don't actually celebrate, we're Arabian, but my father will have a party and I know he'll be there. You'll come won't you?" Quatre asked.

"Perhaps, that's still a few months away. What do you do for Thanksgiving?"

"Oh, well since we're here, we celebrate it like everyone else. It's an excuse to get the whole family together. All the girls bring their boyfriends home to meet our father," Quatre explained. He kept thinking about how he was going to tell his father why he didn't have anyone to bring home again…

"Are you going to tell him before that?" Trowa asked.

"Tell him what?"

"That you're not taking over for him and that you like boys," Trowa said. Quatre rested his head in his hands.

"It might be a bit much to handle all at once. I might be able to get away with just telling him I'm gay and just have him cut me off from his life," Quatre replied, trying to joke. It came off very sad however.

"Well I'll be here for you."

"Maybe I should call now, while I have the nerve," Quatre said. He pulled out his cell phone. Trowa held his hand.

"You're sure about this?" Trowa asked. "Can you support yourself if he writes you off?"

"I could probably manage for a while. At least until I get a job. I could work and still go to school," Quatre assured, himself, more than Trowa. He punched the number into the phone and waited patiently for an answer. His heart was racing and his body was tingling. "Hello, this is Quatre; I need to speak with my father." He waited a few moments before his father's cheerful voice came on the line.

"Quatre! You caught me on my way to lunch! What are you up to? How have you been?"

"I have something important to tell you. You should go sit down, alone."

"I am alone. I'm in my office. Is something wrong?"

"Don't you think it's weird that I've never brought home a girlfriend?"

"I had some suspicions…"

"Well, it's because I'm…" Quatre paused. He wasn't sure he could say it. His father began laughing on the other end.

"I think I've been waiting for this call for a long time. I guess this is what I get letting your sisters raise you."

"You're not… mad? You know this means I won't be taking the business from you…"

"No. Well I was for a while, but I've come to terms with it. I thought if you were to come to me, I wouldn't be surprised. You're far too kind and innocent for my world Quatre. I've known it since you were a little boy, but it's my pride that makes me want to believe you'll be… normal I suppose is the word. I know I pushed you to be cultural, appreciate fine arts and the like. I knew when you went to music school that you were never going to be what I had pictured."

"I'm… I'm a little shocked…"

"Well how about it Quatre, why are you calling me now about this? Were you caught with a boy by some reporter? Or are you in love?"

"I think it's the latter. We were talking about Thanksgiving, and I was wondering what would happen…"

"Well you should bring him to dinner. I can't vouch for all your sisters, but most of them should be alright with you bringing a boyfriend. Try not to let it get in the papers if you can help it. In the mean time, you won't be offended if I discuss the matter of the company with your sisters?" his father said.

"Of course not. They deserve the company; they've worked so hard," Quatre replied. He covered the phone and looked at Trowa. "Will you come to dinner for Thanksgiving? He would like to meet you…" It felt wrong to ask, because they were not together, but he thought it was probable that in the next 6 months they would end up being together, or he hoped.

"I guess so… I mean, if you want me to," Trowa answered. Quatre half smiled. It was a bitter agreement for him. He knew he was pushing Trowa into a corner…

"Alright then Quatre. I'm gonna go have some breakfast, unless there's something else?"

"No, that was all. Thank you father," he whispered with tears in his eyes.

"Don't be afraid to call me Quatre. I'm your father and I love you."

"I love you too father, and I will. I'll call more, I promise." They said their goodbyes and hung up. Quatre was stunned.

"Took it better than you thought?" Trowa asked, teasing the blonde.

"He knew…but I'm glad, it made it easier… Now I just have my sisters to worry about," Quatre joked.

"How many sisters do you have anyway?"

"…29…" Quatre replied. Trowa's mouth gaped open.

"How is that even possible?" he whispered in shock himself.

"Well it's… It's alright in our culture to take more than one wife… Some of the girls were twins, and there was one set of triplets. He had three wives before my mother. He met her here, after all my other sisters were born. He married her here and she got pregnant with me. He was so excited when they found out I was a boy. He found out later on though, that she'd been to the doctor and they'd advised her to abort, or she would die. She refused. My father only found out when she went into labor and he asked her why she'd do such a thing. She told him, 'If there were ever a worthy cause to die for, it would be to bring our son into this world. I would not be living at all if I had ended his life. Let him know that I love him more than he shall ever know.'"

"Quatre," Trowa whispered. He brought his hand up to wipe the tears from Quatre's eyes. "Please don't cry," he begged. He wanted to hold Quatre, but something was keeping him. He was frozen. He was brought back to his memory of leaving his mother. He'd screamed at her, that he hated her for ruining his life and she had stared coldly at him. He felt jealous that Quatre's mother was willing to die for him to be brought into the world and his own mother all but resented his existence…

"I think we should do water colors today. I'll sit by the window and look outside and you can mess around," Quatre suggested, standing up and walking to the kitchen. There was a large glass window with a sitting area within it that he went to. He sat down, staring outside. It had started to rain and he looked up at the grey sky, crying freely, but quietly to himself. He heard Trowa shuffling around, looking for paper and paint. He used small brushes and retrieved a few small cups of water and paper towels. He had started using water colors last week at the light house.

Quatre was barely aware that he was sitting at the table. He was wrapped up in painful memories, of which he had stirred up twice today. He couldn't bring himself to comfort Quatre, so he could only do what he was asked. He made the first painting very watery, as though a reflection in the water of the scene before him. He painted a very accurate picture next; making sure it was very detailed. The next was with hardly any water, the colors were done very solid, with hardly any detail at all. The next was done in a smoky manner, once the basic picture was done, he used the water to blend the colors together so it looked as though they were merely colors rising in the air. He liked the first one the best. He set them on the table to let them dry and cleaned up.

"Trowa?" Quatre whispered. Trowa walked into the room.

"Yes Quatre?"

"When I found out… I felt like I had no right to live," Quatre began.

"You must be joking," Trowa returned. Quatre stared at him, puzzled. "I would have given anything to be loved like that. Every time I dared to love, my mother, my father, my sister, Wufei, Zechs… I was slapped with the reality of each situation. My mother despised my existence, and my father didn't love me enough to even attempt to fight for me. My sister still has not contacted me since I gave Hilde my information. Wufei left to move in with a girl he'd only known 6 months, when he knew that I was still not alright. And Zechs, he seduced me, made me love him, and then he was just gone. His number was disconnected and he dropped off the face of the Earth." He didn't mean to be so cruel but it hurt Quatre anyway.

Quatre knew he should be understanding… but he was far too upset right now. He didn't want to ruin all they had built up so far by saying something regretful. He closed his eyes, biting his lip to keep from crying anymore. He could not be around Trowa right now, and rushed out of the apartment. He didn't expect Trowa to follow him so he made no rush up the stairs. When he reached floor 20 he sat on the stairs and cried again.

He felt selfish suddenly. He at least knew his mother loved him so much she was willing to die for him. That didn't mean that he couldn't be upset about it every once and a while. He had never even met her and everyone told him how wonderful she was, like him. He had grown up to be just like her, though they had never met, and he thanked Allah for that. He could feel her strength pulsing through him, but he still felt guilty that he had robbed her of the rest of her life. He would just have to follow his heart and hope that she was proud of him…

Trowa put his head in his hands as he sat on his bed. He berated himself for driving the blonde away. Who wouldn't be upset that they had never met their mother? Or for the fact that she willingly gave her life for his? She must've been a very kind and loving woman. It must hurt Quatre that he never knew her… Maybe he wasn't finished explaining his feelings, and he had interrupted and hurt him further… Why was he making it so hard for Quatre? He was falling for Quatre for sure, and he knew Quatre had some feelings for him. He just wanted to help and he drove him away every time he reached out a little too much.

He couldn't let Quatre be upset. He wasn't sure what he would do, but he needed to make sure he'd be ok. He left the apartment and started walking up the stairs. As he reached 17 he heard soft sobbing. He couldn't move again, he froze. He could barely deal with his own problems, so he wasn't sure if he could even help. He just knew he felt horrible. He took the next 2 flights very slowly. He could see Quatre leaning against the railing, crying, and it tore at his heart.

"I wish I could've met you before Quatre," Trowa said, as he joined the blonde. He sat next to him. "I would have never made you cry. I, I don't really know why I keep pushing you away. I have some fear of getting close to anyone, but I know I shouldn't be scared of you. Everything in my being tells me that you will never do what Zechs did to me. I just, I don't want to rush into anything… I tense when I'm touched because I keep feeling Zechs' hands on me. When I'm with you I don't feel it too much, I'm able to hug you and touch you, but the moment you reciprocate, when you're not in shock, I can feel him…"

"It's still too soon to hope for that to just go away. I mean it's been a long time since him, but I'm the first person you're trying to get close with. There will naturally be some boundaries and fears to overcome, but I'm not going anywhere. I just get very emotional over my mother. I wonder if I'm making her proud. My sisters and other family always tell me I'm very much like her and it makes me feel close to her. Sometimes I wish that she was able to finish living her life, and I feel responsible for her life ending so suddenly. When I finish being upset about it, I usually thank her for her sacrifice and promise to live my life as best I can for her. I didn't mean to start out telling you about her on a bad note, it was my mistake."

"No, I overreacted. I thought that you might not have been finished, because you're not one to get depressed or cry, and I just made you feel bad instead of trying to help," Trowa interrupted.

"Well if you think about it, it was sort of a good thing. You were able to talk to me about something you probably haven't told anyone. I'm thankful for every memory you share with me, because it means you're helping to let go of your pain. It means that I'm being a good influence," Quatre enlightened.

"Yes, but I don't want it to be at the risk of you getting hurt. I don't want to let one thing out and create another bad situation by upsetting you," Trowa said. He put his arms around the blonde and hugged him. "I don't want to create any more pain…"

"Trowa, it's not as though you're doing it intentionally," Quatre said, hugging Trowa back. They both knew neither would convince the other of anything, so they just stayed silent for a while sitting beside each other. "Did the paintings come out good?"

"They came out decent. I haven't used watercolors in a while, I'm still getting back in the mood," Trowa responded.

"Do you think we're spending too much time together?" Quatre meekly asked. Trowa stared at him, not sure if and how he should answer.

"I… I don't know, maybe…" he responded.

"I think that maybe we should spend some time apart. It might lessen the tension that's growing between us. I don't want us to start fighting or shutting each other out because we're getting irritated," Quatre explained. Trowa nodded slowly in agreement, though he did not agree at all. Having Quatre around all the time was helping him forget, helping him let go, but he didn't want to suffocate the blonde. It was probably the best idea to listen to him…

"You're right… Let's take a week or two off," Trowa responded. He saw Quatre tense, and he knew it was hurting them both. He just couldn't understand why building up this relationship was so hard on them. Quatre forced a smile. "Just call when you're ready to start again…" Quatre nodded. Trowa stood up and walked back to his room. Helaid with his arms crossed across his chest on his bed. He stared at the closet.

Quatre leaned heavily against the door. He knew what he'd done was probably going to make things worse. Trowa was going to withdraw and stay locked in his room. There was just too much tension building up… He was painfully keeping himself from touching the taller boy. He was losing his restraint and that would surely ruin everything they had. He had almost lost it when Trowa hugged him on the stairs… He didn't know what else to do, or how else to say it. He sighed and slumped to the floor.