Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing; I don't make any profit from this fan
fiction.
Note from author: I'm not good at writing, sorry. I have a bad vocab, a bad sense of time, and a bad way of over-dramatizing in stories. Sorry, this story's for all the other crap writers who have nothing else to do these holidays.
O, if the love scenes suck, it's coz I had to cut some of it for FF regulations
Rating: R, language, yaoi, 1x2, 3x4
Deals mostly with 3x4 in this chapter, Wufei doesn't appear
Plot: All 5 Gundam pilots combine to protect Relena at her annual end-of- war party. Violence ensues and Heero is presented with a choice: love, or peace? What will he choose?
Chapter Summary: Set after EW. 1x2 and 3x4 get together. All 5 Gundam pilots gather together for Relena's annual celebration of the end of the wars. No one wants to be there, but they go to protect Relena. Trowa and Quatre have unfinished business.
- -
CHAPTER ONE - Never Again
- -
"Duo, you're going to the party."
Duo dashed behind a couch so only the tips of his fingers were visible. His head popped up above the lounge's back, and his large, frightened violet eyes blinked. "No I'm not."
"Duo," Heero growled, and whirled around the couch to block Duo's escape route. "You're going to the party."
Duo backed up until his back hit the wall. He frantically looked around for an escape, and finally flipped over the couch's back, rolling to the carpet. Heero sighed and walked around the couch to where Duo was rubbing his sore leg on the floor.
"You love parties."
The scared, pleading look on Duo's face vanished. "Yeah," he granted, "but not Relena's." He scratched his head and groused, "Besides, the war's over, and Relena's got you, the Perfect Soldier; she doesn't need the whole team protecting her."
"Yes she does."
"Ooh, so now you're saying you're not good enough to protect her alone are you?" Duo taunted.
"Yes," Heero replied bluntly. "Hundreds of Relena's allies and enemies will be there, she needs all the protection she can get."
Duo sniffed at him. Heero stooped down next to Duo, who was nursing his poor, injured ankle. "Baka, what did you do to your leg?"
Duo batted his eyes hopefully. "Something that will prevent me from attending Relena's party?"
- -
"Stupid Heero," Duo muttered as he limped through the twin doors of Relena's stupid mansion. He hated Relena's stupid parties, and Heero knew he hated them. He hated watching the twosome flit around like a couple of newlyweds waiting to have sex.
Without greeting anyone in the bustling crowd, Duo walked straight to the waitress with the wine, swiped a glass, and downed its contents in a single gulp. "Thanks," he said with a wink, setting the glass carefully back down. She nodded and toddled off to the next drunken important war participator.
Hundreds of congressmen and important people fluttered around. Some acted like social butterflies, some clumped in social groups, and others shriveled into obscure corners of social shadow where no one would see or talk to them. Duo had been about as depressed to see Relena as she had been delighted to see Heero. She'd instantly glomped onto his arm like a starved leech and had begun dragging him around to meet every important person in the whole room.
Relena did - Duo consented - look nice, for her. Her hair was pinned up and the style of dress complemented her figure. But Heero's looks outshone hers by a mile. He looked gorgeous as usual, in dark clothes that magnified the colour of his eyes. Half of his appeal came from the fact that he looked like he didn't give a shit - which, Duo supposed, Heero probably didn't.
Duo grabbed another wine glass as a waiter flew past, downing it, and playing with the glass's stem as he waited for another tray. Heero and Relena looked good together, and he was stuck all alone, by the food. The next time a waiter passed he was snatching the whole bottle.
- -
A few glasses later, Duo was beginning to feel lighthearted about the party, not to mention lightheaded. He grinned cheerily to himself as time elapsed, not bothered by Relena's hasty greeting and Heero's flash of concern.
"Duo?" Someone called softly from behind him.
Turning idly around, Duo practically lost his balance as he saw the uncertain blonde before him. "Quat!" Duo squawked and bunched the cherub up in his arms, picking his feet up off the floor. "How's it been, man?"
Quatre laughed as he was lowered back to the now-attractive ground. "Hey Duo, it's been great," he lied, the flicker of sadness in Quat's eyes giving him away.
Duo scowled, "you suck at lying, Quat."
Quatre opened his mouth to protest, but Duo cut him off. "Don't even try to deny it, you little pussy." Duo reprimanded, "Why is silent-boy standing all alone in that corner? And why are you here talking to me? Don't tell me you've been doing nothing over the past year we've all split? I know you two like each other."
Quatre blushed hotly. "Duo," he chastised gently, looking around to see who had heard. "I..." he floundered for words, "I do like him, Duo. But..." the twinkle in those soft, aqua eyes faded slightly. "Well he doesn't feel the same way."
Duo's jaw dropped. Clasping Quatre's arm, he pulled the small blonde over to a table and plunked them both down in Relena's embroidered chairs. "Bull shit! What do you mean he doesn't feel the same way? Of course he does! He told me himself! What, has he told you he doesn't like you?"
"Not exactly..."
"See!" Duo exclaimed.
A soft sigh treaded over Quatre's quivering lips. "Look, Duo, can we talk about this later?"
"Nah-ah!" Duo uttered, "We have to talk about this now."
Duo instantly regretted his answer when the happy blonde's expression crumpled. "But he doesn't like me, Duo. At least, not that way."
Duo was tipsy, but he wasn't so far gone that he couldn't see Quatre hurting to force the story out of his mouth. Placing a hand on Quatre's shoulder, he said, "hey, Quat, it's cool, you don't have to tell me, I'm sorry for pushing."
To his surprise Quatre just shook his head. "No, you're right, Duo. I have to get this out. I've been... bottling it up." Taking a deep breath, Quatre fixed his eyes on the floor. "You see, Duo, I brought Trowa home drunk, one night. I didn't mean to do it, I swear. I felt so guilty that I hadn't been paying as much attention to him as I usually do at social... clubs; so I decided to take him home. Once we were in Trowa's bedroom, he..." Quatre's cheeks darkened, and after a pause, he started again. "Once we were in Trowa's bedroom, he started pushing me down on the bed, Duo. I... I was so shocked, I didn't know what to do, and... and then he kissed me, and I started kissing back."
Quatre ducked behind his platinum bangs, his voice faltering. "I-I knew it was wrong, Duo. I knew I shouldn't have let him. He trusted me, Duo, and I was sober and I knew exactly what we were doing when we undressed. I betrayed his trust, Duo, I'm so selfish." Quatre shuddered, biting his lip. "We were about to make love when Trowa sobered somewhat..." He raised his eyes to Duo's, searching for condemnation. "I'll never forget how he looked at me that night. He stared at me with so much horror..."
Duo pulled the blonde into his arms. "You don't have to explain shit, Quat; I get it, just stop there."
Quatre continued, the musical voice choked with sadness. "He yanked his hands back, Duo, like I was some kind of disease, and then he pushed me away. He staggered out the door without a word, and I... I was so ashamed I couldn't bear to go after him. The next morning all his things were gone and he... he never came back." Quatre's head snapped up, missing Duo's by an inch. "This is the first time we've been in the same room in months, Duo. What do I say to him?"
Duo blinked, and frowned. He hadn't heard Quatre's question, he was too busy rotating the story over in his head. Quatre's recount hadn't made any sense. Trowa loved Quat; he'd never do anything to hurt him.
When Duo didn't answer, Quatre recoiled as if struck. "I'm so sorry, Duo," he mumbled, "You must think I'm so disgusting, you don't have to help me."
Duo blinked again. "Huh?" He assessed what Quatre had just said. "What? No! Nononono," Duo blurted, startling them both. "Sorry Quat, I was zoning out, thinking about why Trowa backed off, that's all. What you're saying is impossible, Quat, Trowa loves you, you know he does, that... what you're saying... it can't be right."
Quatre's long-lashed eyes drifted back to the floor. "It is."
- -
Duo had no idea.
Approximately six months after the war, Quatre had found Trowa wandering the Colonies like a lost soul. He'd dragged Trowa into his home and practically forced containment, refusing to accept Trowa's numerous excuses about needing to be somewhere else. He'd talked to the silent boy, even though he never got a reply, cared for him and loved him like a best friend. To Quatre's delight, after a few weeks, Trowa had started talking back.
It had taken further weeks of cajoling to introduce Trowa to the outside world. Quatre had started him off with small gatherings of friends, making sure Trowa never felt insecure or out of place, and later began hauling Trowa out to nightclubs and other social events.
It was only three months after Trowa had moved in with him, when Quatre had taken him to a club, and accidentally gotten Trowa outrageously drunk. Feeling terribly guilty for not watching his silent friend, Quatre had driven Trowa home for an early night's rest. Despite their wickedly fast metabolisms, Trowa had still been under the influence when Quatre towed Trowa up to their adjoining rooms.
*Flashback*
Shirtless Trowa prowled around the bedroom like a panther, making the hairs on the back of Quatre's neck prickle. Ignoring the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Quatre drew back the sheets of Trowa's bed and beckoned, "come on, Trowa, it's time to go sleepies."
The taller boy pulled to a halt and stared at Quatre. He looked beautiful. A shaft of moonlight was dashed across his sculpt, lean body, illuminating the hard planes of his chest and stomach. His impossibly gorgeous face taunted him, but Trowa's eyes watched him with frightening intensity.
Trowa glided up close to him and planted a soft kiss on his neck.
Quatre jumped and stared, backing away slowly. His heart and mind raced, he wanted Trowa terribly, he'd wanted Trowa for so long. But not like this.
Trowa seized Quatre's body and pulled him closer, and Quatre found he couldn't stop him. Not because he wasn't strong enough, but because he didn't want to. Quatre trembled as Trowa slid his cool hands beneath his shirt, pulling it over his head. He gasped when Trowa gently pinned him to the bed with his body, his heart galloping inside his ribcage like a wild horse.
Trowa melded their lips together gently. So infuriatingly gently. He sucked Quatre's lower lip, barely darting his tongue into Quatre's mouth. And Quatre clung to him like a lifeline, feeling a daunting need to stop this before he lost control...
"Trowa," he whispered, "stop... we can't do this." Quatre moaned as Trowa freed him from his trousers and boxers.
"Trowa..." he protested. "No... you have to___ ooh..." Quatre forgot what he was about to say as Trowa rocked his hips forwards onto Quatre's, the friction wringing a moan from Quatre's parted lips.
After minutes of gentle rocking together, in mimicry of the motions that were soon to come, Trowa caressed Quatre's thighs and coaxed them wide apart. Quatre's last protest died on his lips when Trowa fitted perfectly between his legs and lifted them over his shoulders with a gentle, reassuring kiss.
Quatre should have stopped him, but he didn't.
After what seemed like hours of foreplay of gentle rocking and sweet caresses, he wasn't able to. Quatre began pleading with Trowa to take him. Trowa hadn't once touched the fireworks between his legs with his hands, and Quatre was aching fiercely for release. Each time Trowa brought him up, he'd slowly, slowly bring him away from the edge, and then start the wonderful, unending cycle again.
"Please, take me Trowa..." Quatre moaned, gasping as Trowa's hand brushed past his groin.
Trowa ignored him. He pinned Quatre's hands above his head, so he couldn't touch himself, and then trailed his tongue down Quatre's stomach, feeling the boy shudder as he swept his warm, wet tongue over Quatre's pelvis.
"Take me Trowa," Quatre whimpered, "Please..." Trowa lingered at the pelvis, before sliding his tongue back up Quatre's body as he protested, "Stop, please... go back."
Quatre closed his eyes and parted his lips to receive Trowa's kiss, when suddenly, everything stopped. Quatre fearfully opened his eyes.
Trowa's bright green ones stared at him, and his face lost all colour.
"T-Trowa..." Quatre stammered, fear lacing his voice.
'He realizes what I've done," Quatre thought, tears brimming in his eyes. 'He knows what a disgusting person I am.' Trowa stared at them in shock, at the bed, at their naked bodies, at his hands. Trowa's eyes wandered to his left hand, where he had pinned Quatre's above his head. He flinched and snapped his hand back. Quatre closed his eyes and he fisted the sheets either side of him, trying to wrench them across his exposed flesh. What had he done?
Trowa pulled back, and Quatre curled up into a fetal position on his side, bringing his knees and arms into his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks. He could feel Trowa's intense scrutiny, his horror. Shame rushed through Quatre's body, filling him, making him sick. He'd never felt so revolting in all his life. So disgusted by his own actions.
"Trowa..." Quatre whispered brokenly, opening his eyes. He extended a hand to the shocked boy's face, hoping beyond all hope that Trowa would understand, that he would forgive him.
It was as if the spell that had been keeping Trowa there shattered. He jerked back, horrified.
He staggered off Quatre's body, picked his trousers up off the floor, and fled.
*End Flashback*
- -
Duo refused to believe Quatre. He utterly denied the possibility that Trowa wouldn't have jumped for joy given the opportunity to be with Quatre. There must have been something that had been holding Trowa back. "Look, Quat," Duo said assuredly, "there's gotta be something Trowa hasn't told you about, that's stopping him from being with you, and I'm going to find out what it is."
Duo stood up, raking his chair legs over the floor. He whirled and began marching in Trowa's direction, but Quatre's head snapped up and the blonde called, "Duo, wait!"
Duo pivoted on his heel, eyebrow cocked. "Yeah?"
"What about you and Heero, are you together yet?"
Duo laughed completely without mirth. His violent eyes were glassy, and it wasn't just from the drink. "Yeah right, Q-man," he replied brusquely, "Heero and Wufei have a better chance of being together than Heero and me." He spun on his toes again and strode off, ignoring Quatre's cries of objection.
- -
Trowa ducked behind his veil of hair as the petite blonde strolled confidently through the double doors to Relena's huge ballroom. His throat clogged and his stomach knotted as he recognized those soft, platinum bangs and the slender form that fitted perfectly into a white, tailored suit. He was nervous about seeing Quatre again, but he had to ask Quatre's forgiveness, whether he would get it or not. There was no need for a confrontation right away. Trowa pressed deeper into the indistinct corner he had settled against, making himself as inconspicuous as possible.
Trowa clenched his teeth as the memories - or rather, the lack of them - that small form carried, plagued him.
*Flashback*
The only thing Trowa remembered from the night before were the endless bottles of alcohol he had consumed. He'd known that as Gundam pilots, they had extremely high metabolisms, and Trowa could burn up countless amounts of the beverage, with veritably no effect. He hadn't even read the labels on the bottles he'd drunken, he'd merely sculled bottle after bottle of delicious, warmth-inducing alcohol, to seal away his fears and inhibitions about being accepted.
Trowa sobered with the feeling of a small, slender body writhing beneath him, moaning at his touch. At first, Trowa assumed he was dreaming and continued sliding his tongue up the center of Quatre's body. As Trowa's mind cleared, he still didn't comprehend the realistic sensations, the feeling of real flesh beneath his hands and body, the sound of real rhythmic breaths synchronized with the rise of that small chest.
Quatre whimpered, "Please..." His usually soft, tender voice had been rendered shrill and desperate by some outside force, "Stop, please... go back."
Trowa recoiled instantly and his eyes flew open in shock. That wasn't supposed to happen. That had never happened in this dream before... Trowa shook his head to clear it. No, this was a dream. It had to be. This couldn't be real; he would never hurt Quatre intentionally. He would never hurt him.
Quatre's sweet, aqua globes fluttered open. Fear. Quatre's eyes were twin beacons of it; his voice was thick with it, "T-Trowa...?" His angel stammered.
That tiny, vulnerable voice drove daggers through Trowa's heart. Trowa's blood turned to ice in his veins. No, this wasn't happening...Trowa's throat constricted as he tried to speak. No...
Quatre squirmed beneath him, hardening him even more. Disgusted, Trowa attempted to pull away, but realized his left hand was fastened over Quatre's wrists, locking the angel's arms above his head, so he couldn't escape Trowa's touch...
Denial raced through Trowa's mind. It was just a nightmare, just a nightmare... Even without consciousness Trowa would never hurt Quatre, he'd SWORN to protect him, his body knew it, his mind knew it, and his heart knew it. He would NEVER hurt Quatre. NEVER.
Tears poured down Quatre's frightened, pale face. Trowa snapped his arm back. He stared in pure horror at Quatre, at himself, and then pulled himself backwards, out from between Quatre's limp legs. He watched as Quatre averted his eyes and curled into himself, crying.
What had he done? WHAT HAD HE DONE? Trowa stared. No... I can't have hurt him, I can't have hurt him, I love him... Trowa thought to himself.
Quatre's hand reached out for him, and Trowa watched, transfixed, as Quatre tried to touch him, tried to forgive him despite all that he had done. "Trowa..." Quatre whispered brokenly.
NO. Trowa jerked backwards. No. Never again. He'd never touch him, or hurt him ever again. He'd go far away from Quatre, far away from the only person he'd ever loved, and he'd never become close to anyone else. Never again.
Trowa staggered off the bed, his breathing laboured, bile rising up his throat.
"Never again," he whispered as he seized his discarded trousers off the floor and fled.
*End Flashback*
Trowa crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He was only here because Heero had demanded he come. It was killing two birds with one stone, really. Protect Relena, and see Quatre again, to beg forgiveness.
But he didn't want to meet with him. Damnit, he didn't want to see that cool, civil look in Quatre's eyes, hear a voice that held no warmth or testimony to the relationship they had once shared.
As soon as this party ended, Trowa would disappear out the door, and wander through the Colonies, alone again. He'd wander, and he'd wander, and he'd wander, trying to repent, because he didn't even deserve the release death could grant a person. He deserved life, the suffering, the pain. He deserved the memory of how he'd destroyed his own life, and then taken the only person he'd ever loved, down with him.
- -
"Trowa! Hey, Trowa!!" Duo shouted as he zoomed across the room waving his arms like a madman. Duo was so busy trying to capture Trowa's attention that he wasn't really judging the distance between he and the other boy as he sprinted toward him, "hey Trowa!" Duo hollered.
The tall, uni-banged boy turned around.
"Shit!" Was the only word Trowa had time to say, before Duo squawked and barreled into Trowa at full-speed, knocking them both over.
They lay in a tangle of limbs as Duo glomped onto Trowa's ribcage. "Hey, Trow-man! 'Sup!?"
The braided boy smelt like alcohol, which would explain the spontaneously loud greeting. He watched as Duo looked around, his forehead wrinkling. "Hey," Duo wondered aloud, "we're the only ones sitting on the floor. Man, that is whacked, I wonder how that happened."
Trowa groaned when Duo's heart-shaped face appeared parallel over his own. "Hey I know what you've been up to; Quatre told me about you, you a-hole, you broke Quatre's heart!"
The fact that Duo had called him an a-hole might have been made comical had Duo not included the reason why. Trowa tried to sit up, but Duo pushed him back down with a hard shove, causing pain to lance up his back and head. "No, you stay right there, you evil, rude, Cyclops. How DARE you run off on him like that! Kissing him and then hauling ass when you wake up, that's just SAD___"
"Duo!"
Duo winced at the severity of that tone. Craning his neck around like a struck puppy, Duo asked fearfully. "Yes?"
Trowa was oblivious to the weight on his body. It rolled off him as he sat upright, gazing at the vision standing over him. A golden halo formed in Quatre's hair where the light reflected it, and those soft, aqua pools looked at him with so much love he felt as though his heart might shatter.
His lips barely parted to allow the word through, "Quatre..." Trowa whispered.
Trowa took the proffered hand to help him up, noting the tinge of fear in Quatre's innocent eyes with a pang of hurt.
"Hi Trowa," his love said. "It's been a long time."
- -
END OF CHAPTER ONE - Never Again
Next chapter: Heero scolds Duo for getting drunk, but Duo is too drunk to care. He makes advances, and Heero finds them difficult to resist. Suddenly, something interrupts their 'moment,' and Heero is forced to choose between two of his greatest loves.
Please don't flame : )
Luv, kiwi
Note from author: I'm not good at writing, sorry. I have a bad vocab, a bad sense of time, and a bad way of over-dramatizing in stories. Sorry, this story's for all the other crap writers who have nothing else to do these holidays.
O, if the love scenes suck, it's coz I had to cut some of it for FF regulations
Rating: R, language, yaoi, 1x2, 3x4
Deals mostly with 3x4 in this chapter, Wufei doesn't appear
Plot: All 5 Gundam pilots combine to protect Relena at her annual end-of- war party. Violence ensues and Heero is presented with a choice: love, or peace? What will he choose?
Chapter Summary: Set after EW. 1x2 and 3x4 get together. All 5 Gundam pilots gather together for Relena's annual celebration of the end of the wars. No one wants to be there, but they go to protect Relena. Trowa and Quatre have unfinished business.
- -
CHAPTER ONE - Never Again
- -
"Duo, you're going to the party."
Duo dashed behind a couch so only the tips of his fingers were visible. His head popped up above the lounge's back, and his large, frightened violet eyes blinked. "No I'm not."
"Duo," Heero growled, and whirled around the couch to block Duo's escape route. "You're going to the party."
Duo backed up until his back hit the wall. He frantically looked around for an escape, and finally flipped over the couch's back, rolling to the carpet. Heero sighed and walked around the couch to where Duo was rubbing his sore leg on the floor.
"You love parties."
The scared, pleading look on Duo's face vanished. "Yeah," he granted, "but not Relena's." He scratched his head and groused, "Besides, the war's over, and Relena's got you, the Perfect Soldier; she doesn't need the whole team protecting her."
"Yes she does."
"Ooh, so now you're saying you're not good enough to protect her alone are you?" Duo taunted.
"Yes," Heero replied bluntly. "Hundreds of Relena's allies and enemies will be there, she needs all the protection she can get."
Duo sniffed at him. Heero stooped down next to Duo, who was nursing his poor, injured ankle. "Baka, what did you do to your leg?"
Duo batted his eyes hopefully. "Something that will prevent me from attending Relena's party?"
- -
"Stupid Heero," Duo muttered as he limped through the twin doors of Relena's stupid mansion. He hated Relena's stupid parties, and Heero knew he hated them. He hated watching the twosome flit around like a couple of newlyweds waiting to have sex.
Without greeting anyone in the bustling crowd, Duo walked straight to the waitress with the wine, swiped a glass, and downed its contents in a single gulp. "Thanks," he said with a wink, setting the glass carefully back down. She nodded and toddled off to the next drunken important war participator.
Hundreds of congressmen and important people fluttered around. Some acted like social butterflies, some clumped in social groups, and others shriveled into obscure corners of social shadow where no one would see or talk to them. Duo had been about as depressed to see Relena as she had been delighted to see Heero. She'd instantly glomped onto his arm like a starved leech and had begun dragging him around to meet every important person in the whole room.
Relena did - Duo consented - look nice, for her. Her hair was pinned up and the style of dress complemented her figure. But Heero's looks outshone hers by a mile. He looked gorgeous as usual, in dark clothes that magnified the colour of his eyes. Half of his appeal came from the fact that he looked like he didn't give a shit - which, Duo supposed, Heero probably didn't.
Duo grabbed another wine glass as a waiter flew past, downing it, and playing with the glass's stem as he waited for another tray. Heero and Relena looked good together, and he was stuck all alone, by the food. The next time a waiter passed he was snatching the whole bottle.
- -
A few glasses later, Duo was beginning to feel lighthearted about the party, not to mention lightheaded. He grinned cheerily to himself as time elapsed, not bothered by Relena's hasty greeting and Heero's flash of concern.
"Duo?" Someone called softly from behind him.
Turning idly around, Duo practically lost his balance as he saw the uncertain blonde before him. "Quat!" Duo squawked and bunched the cherub up in his arms, picking his feet up off the floor. "How's it been, man?"
Quatre laughed as he was lowered back to the now-attractive ground. "Hey Duo, it's been great," he lied, the flicker of sadness in Quat's eyes giving him away.
Duo scowled, "you suck at lying, Quat."
Quatre opened his mouth to protest, but Duo cut him off. "Don't even try to deny it, you little pussy." Duo reprimanded, "Why is silent-boy standing all alone in that corner? And why are you here talking to me? Don't tell me you've been doing nothing over the past year we've all split? I know you two like each other."
Quatre blushed hotly. "Duo," he chastised gently, looking around to see who had heard. "I..." he floundered for words, "I do like him, Duo. But..." the twinkle in those soft, aqua eyes faded slightly. "Well he doesn't feel the same way."
Duo's jaw dropped. Clasping Quatre's arm, he pulled the small blonde over to a table and plunked them both down in Relena's embroidered chairs. "Bull shit! What do you mean he doesn't feel the same way? Of course he does! He told me himself! What, has he told you he doesn't like you?"
"Not exactly..."
"See!" Duo exclaimed.
A soft sigh treaded over Quatre's quivering lips. "Look, Duo, can we talk about this later?"
"Nah-ah!" Duo uttered, "We have to talk about this now."
Duo instantly regretted his answer when the happy blonde's expression crumpled. "But he doesn't like me, Duo. At least, not that way."
Duo was tipsy, but he wasn't so far gone that he couldn't see Quatre hurting to force the story out of his mouth. Placing a hand on Quatre's shoulder, he said, "hey, Quat, it's cool, you don't have to tell me, I'm sorry for pushing."
To his surprise Quatre just shook his head. "No, you're right, Duo. I have to get this out. I've been... bottling it up." Taking a deep breath, Quatre fixed his eyes on the floor. "You see, Duo, I brought Trowa home drunk, one night. I didn't mean to do it, I swear. I felt so guilty that I hadn't been paying as much attention to him as I usually do at social... clubs; so I decided to take him home. Once we were in Trowa's bedroom, he..." Quatre's cheeks darkened, and after a pause, he started again. "Once we were in Trowa's bedroom, he started pushing me down on the bed, Duo. I... I was so shocked, I didn't know what to do, and... and then he kissed me, and I started kissing back."
Quatre ducked behind his platinum bangs, his voice faltering. "I-I knew it was wrong, Duo. I knew I shouldn't have let him. He trusted me, Duo, and I was sober and I knew exactly what we were doing when we undressed. I betrayed his trust, Duo, I'm so selfish." Quatre shuddered, biting his lip. "We were about to make love when Trowa sobered somewhat..." He raised his eyes to Duo's, searching for condemnation. "I'll never forget how he looked at me that night. He stared at me with so much horror..."
Duo pulled the blonde into his arms. "You don't have to explain shit, Quat; I get it, just stop there."
Quatre continued, the musical voice choked with sadness. "He yanked his hands back, Duo, like I was some kind of disease, and then he pushed me away. He staggered out the door without a word, and I... I was so ashamed I couldn't bear to go after him. The next morning all his things were gone and he... he never came back." Quatre's head snapped up, missing Duo's by an inch. "This is the first time we've been in the same room in months, Duo. What do I say to him?"
Duo blinked, and frowned. He hadn't heard Quatre's question, he was too busy rotating the story over in his head. Quatre's recount hadn't made any sense. Trowa loved Quat; he'd never do anything to hurt him.
When Duo didn't answer, Quatre recoiled as if struck. "I'm so sorry, Duo," he mumbled, "You must think I'm so disgusting, you don't have to help me."
Duo blinked again. "Huh?" He assessed what Quatre had just said. "What? No! Nononono," Duo blurted, startling them both. "Sorry Quat, I was zoning out, thinking about why Trowa backed off, that's all. What you're saying is impossible, Quat, Trowa loves you, you know he does, that... what you're saying... it can't be right."
Quatre's long-lashed eyes drifted back to the floor. "It is."
- -
Duo had no idea.
Approximately six months after the war, Quatre had found Trowa wandering the Colonies like a lost soul. He'd dragged Trowa into his home and practically forced containment, refusing to accept Trowa's numerous excuses about needing to be somewhere else. He'd talked to the silent boy, even though he never got a reply, cared for him and loved him like a best friend. To Quatre's delight, after a few weeks, Trowa had started talking back.
It had taken further weeks of cajoling to introduce Trowa to the outside world. Quatre had started him off with small gatherings of friends, making sure Trowa never felt insecure or out of place, and later began hauling Trowa out to nightclubs and other social events.
It was only three months after Trowa had moved in with him, when Quatre had taken him to a club, and accidentally gotten Trowa outrageously drunk. Feeling terribly guilty for not watching his silent friend, Quatre had driven Trowa home for an early night's rest. Despite their wickedly fast metabolisms, Trowa had still been under the influence when Quatre towed Trowa up to their adjoining rooms.
*Flashback*
Shirtless Trowa prowled around the bedroom like a panther, making the hairs on the back of Quatre's neck prickle. Ignoring the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Quatre drew back the sheets of Trowa's bed and beckoned, "come on, Trowa, it's time to go sleepies."
The taller boy pulled to a halt and stared at Quatre. He looked beautiful. A shaft of moonlight was dashed across his sculpt, lean body, illuminating the hard planes of his chest and stomach. His impossibly gorgeous face taunted him, but Trowa's eyes watched him with frightening intensity.
Trowa glided up close to him and planted a soft kiss on his neck.
Quatre jumped and stared, backing away slowly. His heart and mind raced, he wanted Trowa terribly, he'd wanted Trowa for so long. But not like this.
Trowa seized Quatre's body and pulled him closer, and Quatre found he couldn't stop him. Not because he wasn't strong enough, but because he didn't want to. Quatre trembled as Trowa slid his cool hands beneath his shirt, pulling it over his head. He gasped when Trowa gently pinned him to the bed with his body, his heart galloping inside his ribcage like a wild horse.
Trowa melded their lips together gently. So infuriatingly gently. He sucked Quatre's lower lip, barely darting his tongue into Quatre's mouth. And Quatre clung to him like a lifeline, feeling a daunting need to stop this before he lost control...
"Trowa," he whispered, "stop... we can't do this." Quatre moaned as Trowa freed him from his trousers and boxers.
"Trowa..." he protested. "No... you have to___ ooh..." Quatre forgot what he was about to say as Trowa rocked his hips forwards onto Quatre's, the friction wringing a moan from Quatre's parted lips.
After minutes of gentle rocking together, in mimicry of the motions that were soon to come, Trowa caressed Quatre's thighs and coaxed them wide apart. Quatre's last protest died on his lips when Trowa fitted perfectly between his legs and lifted them over his shoulders with a gentle, reassuring kiss.
Quatre should have stopped him, but he didn't.
After what seemed like hours of foreplay of gentle rocking and sweet caresses, he wasn't able to. Quatre began pleading with Trowa to take him. Trowa hadn't once touched the fireworks between his legs with his hands, and Quatre was aching fiercely for release. Each time Trowa brought him up, he'd slowly, slowly bring him away from the edge, and then start the wonderful, unending cycle again.
"Please, take me Trowa..." Quatre moaned, gasping as Trowa's hand brushed past his groin.
Trowa ignored him. He pinned Quatre's hands above his head, so he couldn't touch himself, and then trailed his tongue down Quatre's stomach, feeling the boy shudder as he swept his warm, wet tongue over Quatre's pelvis.
"Take me Trowa," Quatre whimpered, "Please..." Trowa lingered at the pelvis, before sliding his tongue back up Quatre's body as he protested, "Stop, please... go back."
Quatre closed his eyes and parted his lips to receive Trowa's kiss, when suddenly, everything stopped. Quatre fearfully opened his eyes.
Trowa's bright green ones stared at him, and his face lost all colour.
"T-Trowa..." Quatre stammered, fear lacing his voice.
'He realizes what I've done," Quatre thought, tears brimming in his eyes. 'He knows what a disgusting person I am.' Trowa stared at them in shock, at the bed, at their naked bodies, at his hands. Trowa's eyes wandered to his left hand, where he had pinned Quatre's above his head. He flinched and snapped his hand back. Quatre closed his eyes and he fisted the sheets either side of him, trying to wrench them across his exposed flesh. What had he done?
Trowa pulled back, and Quatre curled up into a fetal position on his side, bringing his knees and arms into his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks. He could feel Trowa's intense scrutiny, his horror. Shame rushed through Quatre's body, filling him, making him sick. He'd never felt so revolting in all his life. So disgusted by his own actions.
"Trowa..." Quatre whispered brokenly, opening his eyes. He extended a hand to the shocked boy's face, hoping beyond all hope that Trowa would understand, that he would forgive him.
It was as if the spell that had been keeping Trowa there shattered. He jerked back, horrified.
He staggered off Quatre's body, picked his trousers up off the floor, and fled.
*End Flashback*
- -
Duo refused to believe Quatre. He utterly denied the possibility that Trowa wouldn't have jumped for joy given the opportunity to be with Quatre. There must have been something that had been holding Trowa back. "Look, Quat," Duo said assuredly, "there's gotta be something Trowa hasn't told you about, that's stopping him from being with you, and I'm going to find out what it is."
Duo stood up, raking his chair legs over the floor. He whirled and began marching in Trowa's direction, but Quatre's head snapped up and the blonde called, "Duo, wait!"
Duo pivoted on his heel, eyebrow cocked. "Yeah?"
"What about you and Heero, are you together yet?"
Duo laughed completely without mirth. His violent eyes were glassy, and it wasn't just from the drink. "Yeah right, Q-man," he replied brusquely, "Heero and Wufei have a better chance of being together than Heero and me." He spun on his toes again and strode off, ignoring Quatre's cries of objection.
- -
Trowa ducked behind his veil of hair as the petite blonde strolled confidently through the double doors to Relena's huge ballroom. His throat clogged and his stomach knotted as he recognized those soft, platinum bangs and the slender form that fitted perfectly into a white, tailored suit. He was nervous about seeing Quatre again, but he had to ask Quatre's forgiveness, whether he would get it or not. There was no need for a confrontation right away. Trowa pressed deeper into the indistinct corner he had settled against, making himself as inconspicuous as possible.
Trowa clenched his teeth as the memories - or rather, the lack of them - that small form carried, plagued him.
*Flashback*
The only thing Trowa remembered from the night before were the endless bottles of alcohol he had consumed. He'd known that as Gundam pilots, they had extremely high metabolisms, and Trowa could burn up countless amounts of the beverage, with veritably no effect. He hadn't even read the labels on the bottles he'd drunken, he'd merely sculled bottle after bottle of delicious, warmth-inducing alcohol, to seal away his fears and inhibitions about being accepted.
Trowa sobered with the feeling of a small, slender body writhing beneath him, moaning at his touch. At first, Trowa assumed he was dreaming and continued sliding his tongue up the center of Quatre's body. As Trowa's mind cleared, he still didn't comprehend the realistic sensations, the feeling of real flesh beneath his hands and body, the sound of real rhythmic breaths synchronized with the rise of that small chest.
Quatre whimpered, "Please..." His usually soft, tender voice had been rendered shrill and desperate by some outside force, "Stop, please... go back."
Trowa recoiled instantly and his eyes flew open in shock. That wasn't supposed to happen. That had never happened in this dream before... Trowa shook his head to clear it. No, this was a dream. It had to be. This couldn't be real; he would never hurt Quatre intentionally. He would never hurt him.
Quatre's sweet, aqua globes fluttered open. Fear. Quatre's eyes were twin beacons of it; his voice was thick with it, "T-Trowa...?" His angel stammered.
That tiny, vulnerable voice drove daggers through Trowa's heart. Trowa's blood turned to ice in his veins. No, this wasn't happening...Trowa's throat constricted as he tried to speak. No...
Quatre squirmed beneath him, hardening him even more. Disgusted, Trowa attempted to pull away, but realized his left hand was fastened over Quatre's wrists, locking the angel's arms above his head, so he couldn't escape Trowa's touch...
Denial raced through Trowa's mind. It was just a nightmare, just a nightmare... Even without consciousness Trowa would never hurt Quatre, he'd SWORN to protect him, his body knew it, his mind knew it, and his heart knew it. He would NEVER hurt Quatre. NEVER.
Tears poured down Quatre's frightened, pale face. Trowa snapped his arm back. He stared in pure horror at Quatre, at himself, and then pulled himself backwards, out from between Quatre's limp legs. He watched as Quatre averted his eyes and curled into himself, crying.
What had he done? WHAT HAD HE DONE? Trowa stared. No... I can't have hurt him, I can't have hurt him, I love him... Trowa thought to himself.
Quatre's hand reached out for him, and Trowa watched, transfixed, as Quatre tried to touch him, tried to forgive him despite all that he had done. "Trowa..." Quatre whispered brokenly.
NO. Trowa jerked backwards. No. Never again. He'd never touch him, or hurt him ever again. He'd go far away from Quatre, far away from the only person he'd ever loved, and he'd never become close to anyone else. Never again.
Trowa staggered off the bed, his breathing laboured, bile rising up his throat.
"Never again," he whispered as he seized his discarded trousers off the floor and fled.
*End Flashback*
Trowa crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He was only here because Heero had demanded he come. It was killing two birds with one stone, really. Protect Relena, and see Quatre again, to beg forgiveness.
But he didn't want to meet with him. Damnit, he didn't want to see that cool, civil look in Quatre's eyes, hear a voice that held no warmth or testimony to the relationship they had once shared.
As soon as this party ended, Trowa would disappear out the door, and wander through the Colonies, alone again. He'd wander, and he'd wander, and he'd wander, trying to repent, because he didn't even deserve the release death could grant a person. He deserved life, the suffering, the pain. He deserved the memory of how he'd destroyed his own life, and then taken the only person he'd ever loved, down with him.
- -
"Trowa! Hey, Trowa!!" Duo shouted as he zoomed across the room waving his arms like a madman. Duo was so busy trying to capture Trowa's attention that he wasn't really judging the distance between he and the other boy as he sprinted toward him, "hey Trowa!" Duo hollered.
The tall, uni-banged boy turned around.
"Shit!" Was the only word Trowa had time to say, before Duo squawked and barreled into Trowa at full-speed, knocking them both over.
They lay in a tangle of limbs as Duo glomped onto Trowa's ribcage. "Hey, Trow-man! 'Sup!?"
The braided boy smelt like alcohol, which would explain the spontaneously loud greeting. He watched as Duo looked around, his forehead wrinkling. "Hey," Duo wondered aloud, "we're the only ones sitting on the floor. Man, that is whacked, I wonder how that happened."
Trowa groaned when Duo's heart-shaped face appeared parallel over his own. "Hey I know what you've been up to; Quatre told me about you, you a-hole, you broke Quatre's heart!"
The fact that Duo had called him an a-hole might have been made comical had Duo not included the reason why. Trowa tried to sit up, but Duo pushed him back down with a hard shove, causing pain to lance up his back and head. "No, you stay right there, you evil, rude, Cyclops. How DARE you run off on him like that! Kissing him and then hauling ass when you wake up, that's just SAD___"
"Duo!"
Duo winced at the severity of that tone. Craning his neck around like a struck puppy, Duo asked fearfully. "Yes?"
Trowa was oblivious to the weight on his body. It rolled off him as he sat upright, gazing at the vision standing over him. A golden halo formed in Quatre's hair where the light reflected it, and those soft, aqua pools looked at him with so much love he felt as though his heart might shatter.
His lips barely parted to allow the word through, "Quatre..." Trowa whispered.
Trowa took the proffered hand to help him up, noting the tinge of fear in Quatre's innocent eyes with a pang of hurt.
"Hi Trowa," his love said. "It's been a long time."
- -
END OF CHAPTER ONE - Never Again
Next chapter: Heero scolds Duo for getting drunk, but Duo is too drunk to care. He makes advances, and Heero finds them difficult to resist. Suddenly, something interrupts their 'moment,' and Heero is forced to choose between two of his greatest loves.
Please don't flame : )
Luv, kiwi