AN: Again, this is dedicated as a b-day present for syla. And fair warning to all those reading: This chapter contains a LIME!!!!!! No lemon, but it is very limey towards the end.

Waking Up In Vegas

Chapter Fifteen

Cathy wisely didn't ask any questions as she stood at the stove frying some of the fish she'd caught that day. She really didn't want to know the gory details of her brother's love life, and he seemed content at the moment. More than content, judging from some of the looks Trowa was sending Quatre when the latter wasn't looking.

She was busy cooking, Quatre was standing by the table setting out the dishes and answering her questions about what all his company did. Trowa was wrist deep in corn meal and flour, helping her bread the fish. It was so natural, she thought, Quatre being there with them. There was no awkwardness about it; it seemed perfectly *right* that he should be there.

They were enjoying their random and rambling conversation when the phone rang.

Cathy glanced at their house-guest over her shoulder, sending him a mega-watt smile.

"Quatre, could you be a doll and grab that? It's probably Maia or Vanessa, asking if Maia can stay the night- which is just fine, of course!"

Quatre nodded, nervously picking up the cordless phone from the wall-mounted cradle.

"Barto.."

But before he could even say 'Barton Residence', a young girl squealed at him.

"Quat, is that you!?!?!?! Oh, is Cathy or Trowa around? I gotta bug them for a second."

Quatre couldn't help but smile at Maia's voice. In the entire space of that first day, he'd became attached to the little girl. He felt as if she were his own cousin, or maybe one of his nieces.

"They're both busy cooking dinner," he answered, "So I'm afraid they can't make it to the phone."

"Oh, kay, then. Can you holler and ask if it's okay if I stay the night at Vanny's place?"

Quatre didn't manage to stop the laugh in time. Cathy joined in, figuring the reason for his laughter.

"Tell her it's fine, just no junk food after seven!" Cathy yelled towards the phone.

Quatre laughed and relayed the message, even though he was pretty sure Maia clearly heard Cathy. A minute later, he'd hung up the phone.

"Your family is quite amusing, Trowa," he said, still laughing just a little.

"Amusing?" Trowa mused. "Well... I guess that's one way of putting it."

"This whole family's *insane*," Cathy muttered, dishing a fish out of the pan while she thought that maybe, if he wanted... Quatre could fit right in. "Insane," she repeated.

Quatre couldn't help it.

He laughed again.

Quatre sighed as he stepped under the warm spray of the shower. He hadn't gotten a chance to shower the night before; and with the small exception of the few minutes this morning before he'd found Trowa and Cathy at the door he'd yet to have any moment alone.

He used the time to mull over his feelings. What exactly *did* he want to happen here? Why was he doing all this?

He ran a finger over his lips, recalling the way Trowa'd kissed him earlier. He couldn't remember ever feeling such passion, compassion, in a kiss before. Such fire tamed by such tenderness. He briefly wondered if Trowa was that way in all his lovemaking.

Quatre frowned at that thought. He should *know* how Trowa was in his lovemaking. He should remember. If Trowa were like that in all his ministrations... Quatre knew he would have remembered ever touch and kiss, every moan and sigh. He didn't let on his fears to anyone else, but he was quite frightened at the thought of letting himself get so lost, so drunk that he couldn't remember making love with quite frankly one of the most beautiful- inside and out- men he'd ever seen. It simply wasn't right that he could have had *that* in his arms, *inside* him and not remember a single thing.

Kissing Trowa had felt good. It had felt *right*, maybe even normal. Like it was simply meant to be. Quatre sighed again, quickly finishing up his bath-time rituals, turning the water off, and getting out of the shower. Loath to give up his few minutes of peace, he took his time drying off, dressing.

By the time he exited the bathroom- perfectly dry from toes to the tips of his hair- the bedroom light was off, Trowa already in bed, asleep. Quatre paused for just a moment, taking in the sight. Trowa, laying on his back, had pulled on a pair of sweats and nothing else, and had left the blanket pushed down to his waist. It was still early summer, but there was a heat-wave that was raising the temperature.

The dim light from the hall cast a soft golden sort of glow over the lightly tanned skin and glittered in his cinnamon hair. The blond smiled lightly, walking around the bed. Gently as he could he raised the light cover and slipped under it. He curled up against Trowa's side, forgetting the pillow in favor of Trowa's shoulder. Wrapping an arm tight around his 'husband', Quatre dropped off into sleep.

In Trowa's dream, he was making love to an angel. A glittering gold angel, bathed in a warm white light, with two clear aqua blue gems staring at him. Skin as soft as silk that tasted like honey and almonds.

Quatre was brought awake by his 'pillow' shifting underneath him. Grumbling, he moved closer. That was when he felt the lips against his skin, on his neck. He moaned softly at the sensation, but pulled away to question it. Looking, he saw Trowa's eyes still closed. Quatre frowned. Trowa.... was still sleeping?

Those lips dropped once more to his neck, the strong hands slipping the buttons of Quatre's PJ top open. Quatre stiffled his groan, pulling back just a little, before leaning up, just barely, to touch his lips to Trowa's. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, kissing him. There was something between them that simply bubbled to life, flowing over as their lips met, softly, tentatively.

Quatre tilted his head slightly so that he could more firmly meet the beautiful mouth. Trowa's hair tickled his face, and he couldn't repress the giggle that escaped before he moved his hand up, sweeping the offending locks of hair back and away. Kissing Trowa felt so familiar, felt so *right*. And like yesterday afternoon, there was still that odd sensation of feeling that he'd done this before, but not being able to recall it.

Trowa, still half-sleeping, caught up in that wonderful dream of a golden angel, rolled, pushing Quatre back down into the mattress. His tongue asked for and received permission and entered the warm cavern of Quatre's mouth where it danced with it's counterpart. One hand pushed the PJ top apart, while the other came up to gently cup Quatre's cheek before slowly sliding down, fingers brushing over the slender neck, across the rapid pulse, and down. It toyed with a nipple for a simple moment before continuing to roam downwards.

Even knowing he should stop this, that Trowa wasn't quite awake or aware, Quatre gasped softly and arched up into the hand that gently palmed his arousal.

"Oh, Trowa," he moaned before pulling his husband back down into a torrid kiss. Trowa's fingers found their way through the opening in Quatre's PJ bottoms, until they could stroke against smooth, hard, hot flesh. They curled around the erection, tugging it all the way to life, even as his tongue stroked inside Quatre's mouth.

Even as soft morning light began to stream in through the window, Trowa's lips caught his husband's gasp as the blond came, arching up off the bed and melting back down as limply as hot wax. Long moments later, Quatre regained some presence of mind and smiled up at his still sleeping husband as he reached out and pushed the taller man's boxers down over his hips, freeing the erection trapped there. Quatre wrapped one hand around his husband's cock, and used the other to caress the thick, heavy sac beneath it. It didn't take long for Trowa to join the other in having gasped out his release.

When Quatre met his eyes again, they were clear and free from sleep, staring at him in confusion and wonder. Quatre blushed, letting his hands drop away and averting his eyes.

"Quatre?" was the soft question. Fingers tilted his chin up, and Quatre found his lips once again claimed by those of his husband. "Don't be embarrassed," Trowa pleaded against his mouth. "You... you wanted to pursue this relationship, right?"

Quatre nodded dumbly, suddenly lost in a sea of emerald green and unable- unwilling- to find his way back out. At first it had just been a way to escape from reality for a while, but the more he learned about Trowa... the more he wanted to learn, until yes... he really did want a relationship. He really wanted to see if maybe Trowa could be a husband in more than just one drunken night in Las Vegas.

He'd meant what he said yesterday.

He could very well see himself falling in love with this man.