Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing and make no profit off this story.

Warnings: SPOILERS to anime. This story takes place some time after season 2 and follows canon.

Chapter One: Sex

Wrapping his scarf around his lower face to shield it from the night's biting cold, he turned the corner of a shabby building into a narrow, dingy alley, eyes shifting over every corner and crevice. Setsuna searched for any signs of danger among the shadows. There should not be any, this was not a mission, but better safe than sorry. Noting with satisfaction that he was alone, he set a quick pace towards his destination. The entrance should be behind the last building, to his left, facing the end of a street on the other side of the alley - according to Lyle's directions.

Not for the first time, Setsuna wondered how the man new of such places. It was not a questionably legal joint, but people that frequented did enjoyed their anonymity and it was the perfect place for members of Celestial Being to "take a breather," as Lyle put it.

The heavy iron door gave a deep creak as he opened it, filling Setsuna's ears with indistinguishable chatter and his nostrils with cigarette smoke. He hated it; the smell, the noise, the boisterous sounds of a lively crowd, but he would go through with it. Lyle said it would help him relax—and that it was about time. In a few days, he would turn twenty-two years old. This"vacation" was Lyle's idea of a birthday present.

Setsuna kept his expression taut, gulping down a nervous lump from being in close confines with so many people as he stepped into the dimly-lit pub. A slight crease between his eyes made him unapproachable. Though he should have been trying to appear the opposite, he could not help his instinct to immediately put up defenses in crowded areas.

He had a strong urge to turn back. The probability of succeeding in this endeavour was low anyway. He would have enjoyed better the comfort of his temporary apartment he shared with Lyle in Pocitos, reading a book. Or maybe he should have gone out for a cup of coffee in one of the European style coffee chops of Montevideo.

But Lyle said…Setsuna blushed at the memory as he found a fairly isolated place at the very end of the bar and sat on a backed stool. He did not bother to take off his leather jacket or scarf, tense and ready to bolt out of there. Taking in a steady breath, he looked over at the assortment of alcohol on the opposite wall with determination.

He'd been of drinking age for a while but never felt inclined to partake in a drink, even when Hallelujah and Miss Sumeragi insisted. According to Lyle, Setsuna should not be buying drinks for himself anyway. The reminder made him shift on his stool nervously. He fixed his stare on the green countertop, bordered by polished wood to protect costumers from having anything spilled over them, and wondered how that night would end.

Again, chances of success were very low. He would probably sit there, look like a fool, get up and go back home to bed. He could not do this. How could he let himself be convinced by Lyle? The man might be as easy-going as his late older brother, but he had neither the same level of kindness or patience that Lockon would have had with Setsuna.

Lockon…Setsuna frowned as he felt a pang in his chest at the thought of his friend. It had been six years but he stilled grieved the loss. Lockon would have never egged him on like this. He would have teased Setsuna like Lyle had, but then he would have laughed, patted his shoulder like a protective older brother and said, "Don't worry about it. You don't like to be touched easily right? So just wait until you are comfortable with it."

But Lyle was different, Setsuna mused as he recalled his words; "Kid, you're twenty-two years old. Time to experience riding in other things besides your Gundam, eh," he had said with a wink and a glint of malice in his eyes.

Setsuna suspected that Lyle still resented him for killing Anew.

"Che, nene? Estas en la Tierra?"

Jolted from his revere, he looked up at the thirty-something bartender with a pleasant, if somewhat plain face. The man had spoken in Castilian.

"Tu orden?"

"Uh…" Setsuna really could not do this. "Nothing, I'm leaving," he answered coldly in English, stood up and left without looking at anyone. Eye contact could be perceived as an invitation to approach him and what he wanted was to be left alone.

So what if he was a virgin?

"Who would have known a hard-ass like you would be such a pansy when it comes to sex," Lyle said with a laugh, as he sprawled on a loveseat the next afternoon. The older man had returned a few hours ago, having been out all night, most likely in some woman's company, and Setsuna had had the pleasure of keeping the quiet apartment to himself all day.

He wished it would have remained so. He knew Lyle would question him and, upon hearing the answer, tease him ruthlessly. Not like Lockon at all.

This man isn't Lockon.

They were lounging on sleek couches in their living quarters, a spacious room with large windows spanning an entire wall and giving them a splendid view of the South Atlantic beyond the boulevard across their building. The pale walls reflected the bright light, making everything look warm and peaceful. It brought much more comfort to Setsuna than that pub from last night.

But Lyle, as predicted, was not going to let him off the hook.

"Look," Setsuna said, voice tinged with irritation, "I don't see what the big deal is. It's not like it's a necessary part of my life. I can live without it."

Lyle gaped at him from across the coffee table, arms draped over the back of the loveseat. "Not a big deal? Not necessary? Bloody hell, lad, you have much left to live! Look, I'll come with you this time. I know you're a social disaster so I should've known better than to let you go alone. You engaging in a conversation with a girl would be too much to hope for."

Setsuna frowned at him.

"Aw, c'mon! Don't look at me like that! I promise you won't regret it. And it might make you less cranky."

"I'm not cranky."

"You're always tense. You won't even let anyone give you a massage. What is up with the no touching policy of yours? You have to let loose once in a while, man."

"No."

Lyle rolled his eyes and stood up. "Have it your way. Our little vacation is about to be over and who knows when you'll have the next opportunity." He turned on his heels and headed for the front door. "I'm heading out. If you change your mind, I'll be there," he said, turning the door knob before he stopped and looked over his shoulder. "You know, Sets, there's nothing better to make you forget than a woman's touch. Her voice, her skin…it's all you focus on and for a moment you can imagine being a normal man." With that he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Setsuna sunk further into the couch, mulling over his comrade's words. "A normal man, huh?"

Lyle coped with the loss of Anew and his family by throwing himself into the arms of strange women, and clearly thought Setsuna should best cope the same way. It was stupid.

Oddly enough, Setsuna found himself retracing last night's steps to the pub.

He spotted Lyle at the center of the bar, already flirting with a young, slender Uruguayan woman with long chestnut brown hair. As he got closer, he heard her talking in broken English, to which Lyle replied that her accent was "incredibly sexy".

Setsuna did not want to interrupt so he headed for a more emptied spot—the same spot he sat in last night: at the end of the bar, next to the back door. He did not get very far.

"Hey, Sets, where are you going? Come here!"

Not being one to express his agitation outwardly, Setsuna held back a distressed groan, wondering again why he always listened to that man. Was it because he missed Lockon? Did he feel guilty for taking Anew's life right in front of Lyle's eyes? Did he feel obliged by these feelings?

"Yeah," he answered once he stood in front of Lyle and the girl. It made his stomach churn, the thought of using women in this way. He supposed some of his old traditions were still engraved in him.

"I want you to meet Cecilia. Cessy, this is my friend, Setsuna."

She acknowledged him with a polite smile and Setsuna answered it with a cold, "Hi."

Lyle leaned over and whispered, "Smile a little, Sets, geez!"

Setsuna sighed. He should have stayed home.

He took a seat next to Lyle, ignoring him as he conversed, drank and laughed with his lady friend. Lyle had ordered a bottle of red wine and three wine glasses. The bottle was soon emptied but Setsuna was still on his first, still full. He glared at it, berating himself again for coming. He just was no good with this type of thing.

He was so deep in brooding that he did not realized he had become the topic of conversation between Lyle and Cecilia until he felt a gentle touch on his upper arm. That sent all his inner alarms blaring and he quickly snatched his arm away, turning his head with every intention to growl at the person who dared invade his personal space. He caught himself looking at Cecilia's surprised countenance.

The girl brought her hands up and said, "Oh, sorry! I scare you?"

With a small frown between his eyes, Setsuna shook his head. "No…but please don't do that again."

A loud sigh from Lyle's direction had them both look his way. The man stood, and with a smirk, grabbed Setsuna's arm, pulling him out of his seat. "Grab your jacket. We're leaving," he said. "If we wait until you acquire some people skills, by some miracle, then you'll never get laid."

Quite suddenly Setsuna felt his whole face grow hot, and he could not stop himself from goggling at the man's audacity. "W-what!"

"C'mon. Cessy here is going to help."

Setsuna felt humiliated, embarrassed and enraged, but, as always, as life had taught him, he refused to express these feelings and allowed himself to be manipulated out of the pub.

It was only a few blocks from their apartment building. As he was dragged behind Lyle into the elevator that would take them to their floor, with the strange woman in tow, Setsuna wondered what would happen once they got to their apartment. How would this day end?

He had a pretty accurate idea but how would he handle it?

Sex. Even though he did not believe in God anymore, the idea that self-pleasure was dirty was carved into him. Because of hormones during puberty, he had masturbated once, a long time ago, before coming to Celestial Being; and then a few more times over the years. Each time he felt unreasonably guilty. Intellectually, he knew there was nothing wrong with it, that touching one's self was perfectly natural, but the extreme Islamic Wahhabism that Ali Al Sachez used to brainwash him into terrorism had probably left mental scars.

The elevator doors opened and Lyle let them down the hall. The walk seemed to take longer than usual. The jingling of keys was heard, the clicking of one being inserted, another click and the door was unlocked. There was a strong arm around his shoulders. Since when was Lyle so big? For the first time, Setsuna realized how much smaller he was.

That was when it came to him; his situation and what Lyle intended to have him do. He was scared.

Another click. This time the light switch. There were more clicks…more like clacks…the woman's heels.

The arm around his shoulder brought him closer to Lyle, his chest pressed against the taller man's. Broad and hard. The feeling of Lyle's taut abdominal muscles against his side caused something in his stomach to jump and flutter at the contact. His ears were burning. It became worse when Lyle's chest came down, rubbing against his own, as he bent over to whisper in his ear. Setsuna suppressed a shudder.

"Hey, relax. This will feel good and you'll thank me later. That frown you always wear might even disappear for once. And don't worry about screwing up. Cessy will take good care of you."

At the mention of the woman, the heat on his face and the pleasant tingling in his stomach vanished, replaced by revulsion and cold sweat. The comfort of Lyle's arm left him suddenly and he was left alone in the apartment with that woman.

This time Setsuna did not bother to stop a groan of distress.

The sound of the door closing firmly behind Lyle had such a final sound that Setsuna almost ran to the bathroom and shut himself in. Of course, he would do no such thing. He was not a child. He was a man and he would face this situation.

"So," said her soft voice from behind him, "where iz your room?"

Setsuna said nothing. He stood, contemplating his options. What should he do? Should he send her out?

"Che," her voice sounded closer and soon she merged into his line of sight. She was very pretty and Setsuna's same height with high-heels on. She had beautiful lips, pale skin and soft brown eyes, but he felt no desire for her.

Smiling, she gently wrapped his hand in her own as if he were some frightened animal about to bolt at the slightest sign of aggression. She was probably right, though it was not aggression but her sensual gentility that unnerved him.

"It's okay," she said as she helped him off his jacket and scarf, throwing the garments on the couch carelessly. "Just relax."

Cecilia looked to the side, spotted something and pulled him towards it—his bedroom door, he noticed. Not that Cecilia knew it was his; she apparently decided it did not matter.

Everything after that was a haze, a confusion of dull sounds and lights. He sat on the soft mattress as the woman undressed in front of him, but he was not watching. Something was wrong. He did not want to be there. He was going to be sick.

The woman sat down next to him fully naked. She was all soft curves, great body, a slight tummy and smooth, beautiful skin. At a glance, he caught sight of her fully shaved crotch and quickly looked away. From his peripheral he saw breasts bounce as she lied down next to him on her elbows. Her hand took his, and with that slow sensuality that unnerved him, she brought it up to a breast and that was what snapped him out of his terrified paralysis.

His father's voice rang in his ears as if he were right there, in that room, chastising him about how sacred women were. How they had to be protected not defiled; the values of loyalty and respect. When Setsuna was five years old, he had curled his lips at the thought of kissing girls when his father spoke of marriage. "Be faithful to the one you love, the one God chose for you."

Ali Al Sachez was there, hovering over him, saying women were weak and made men weak, that his lust for them was a sin defiling his own body which rightfully belonged to God and to God's spokesmen. He showed the boys what happened to women who corrupted men with their wiles because they were not appropriately covered, remembered the screams and pleads of the madman's victims: women and the boys who had looked at them. How he had to hold in his bile and was beaten to a pulp when he caved in and puked at the sight.

Then he saw his mother's face, strangely vivid in his mind, as was her warm embrace around his tiny body, and he remembered her soft breasts as he was held to them, a feeling of pure bliss and safety enveloping him. In his mother's arms, he would understand his father's words. Women were sacred. To be protected not defiled.

And suddenly he was in his little home that night, so late that most residents in town were asleep. His parents' worried questions, their pale, horrified faces when he pulled out a gun. They were corrupted. This was for the best. The will of God, he had thought. A loud, deafening bang and his father's pained expression before it stiffened in death. His poor mother's trembling voice asking "why?" Two more echoing bangs and she was…

Gone. Everyone was gone. After years of fighting for a warmonger and a non-existent totalitarian God, he was the only one left, sullied and used, until he was picked up by Celestial Being where he would feel clean again.

Setsuna snatched his hand and stood swiftly. He glared at the woman fiercely and cried hoarsely, "Never touch me again!" He ran out of the room and the apartment altogether.

The sun dipped behind the buildings to the west, taking with it any small bit of warmth, and the cold salty air bit into his face. He had forgotten his leather jacket and scarf and had on only his black skinny jeans and a thin, long sleeve, v-neck shirt out in the chilly weather of early April.

He had no idea where he was headed until he heard the distant soft rushing of the ocean from across the street, where it was hidden behind an expanse of tall dunes. The sky on that side was already beginning to darken, littered with faint stars.

He decided he would go to the beach and walk off his terrible childhood memories—something a woman's touch seemed to trigger rather than helped him forget. He turned his steps in that direction and ran across the street. Images and voices rushing through his mind, he did not bother to look for traffic when the sudden screech of a car jolted him back to reality.

The bumper of a car tapped against his leg as it came into a sudden stop. His heart gave a painful jump and raced with the impacting realization of what had just occurred. Of what could have occurred.

He gasped, shaken and frozen on the spot. The driver burst out of the car.

"Are you alright," the man asked, grabbing his upper arm painfully hard. "What the hell? Who runs into a street like that?" The voice was deep, throaty and familiar.

Setsuna looked up and met with a striking visage. The right side of the man's face was covered with burn scars.

Shit! Setsuna cursed his own recklessness. It was Federation Army officer Graham Aker, the man that had an obsession with his Gundam. The man's blue eyes suddenly blazed with angry recognition upon looking at Setsuna's face.

"Boy!"

Setsuna glared at the man, then down at the grip on his arm which he was sure was not going to release him any time soon.

Before they could make a scene that would expose Celestial Being's presence, Setsuna pushed the man into the car seat, trying to dislodge him. Graham Aker landed on the seat with a sharp gasp but refused to let go, and, being roughly pulled along, Setsuna ended up on his lap awkwardly.

"Let go."

"I don't think so."

Setsuna was growing quite self-conscious sitting on the older man's lap like a child. Inside the tight space of the car, sprawled gracelessly on the driver's seat, he had to lean down close to Graham Aker's face.

Fighting back the urge to squirm uncomfortably, he said, "We're causing a scene. You need to let go."

Graham sneered, looked over his shoulder at the honking line of vehicles, some swerving to the next lane and driving past shouting obscenities. Graham slew his head around abruptly and forcefully threw Setsuna further into the car.

As he was shoved further in, Setsuna straightened up in the passenger's seat, ready to high-tail it, but Graham swiftly took a gun out and pointed it subtly at Setsuna's side, low enough not to be noticed by witnesses. "Hands where I can see them. You're coming with me, Celestial Being!"

Damn it, he thought. This was not exactly his idea of a vacation: captured by the Federation.

On the plus side, Setsuna had a handgun holstered in his pants, covered by the shirt, and a smaller pistol strapped at is ankle. He prepared for the worst.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A review brought to my attention that some readers might misunderstand a few things because I don't like to shove ideas right into readers' faces. Putting the pieces together from reading the characters' experiences should gradually form those ideas. Nevertheless, let me clarify that, yes, Setsuna is atheist just like in canon. However, his trauma in having murdered his parents when he was brainwashed into extremist Islamic teachings causes flashbacks of his Islamic past, his parents, his conservative homeland, the terrorist group he was in, which are triggered when someone touches him.

The actual discomfort he feels from a woman's intimate touch stems from his homosexuality, not any religious or sexist views. He's sexually attracted to men but he's not realized it yet, so his confused mind wrongly associates the discomfort he feels to the evil deeds of Ali Al Sachez.

Let me elaborate: his discomfort mixed with the extremist and brutal Islamic conditioning by Ali Al Sachez who had raped people in front of him (terrorists and extremists who misinterpret the Koran for their own agenda believe that women who don't cover themselves deserve to be raped). He's also haunted by the image of his mother begging for her life and misses her terribly. All of this causes him to have issues with sexually liberal women at an emotional level. Not because Islam says it's a sin but because he himself sees his mother in women and wishes to do what he should have done from the start, respect and protect his mom. Those feelings closely resemble his father's early teachings so he recalls them every time he feels that way.

All these things he will be overcoming throughout this story as he identifies and fights his past demons and prejudices and explores his own sexuality with the help of Graham.