Warnings for this chapter: Can't think of anything.. Uhh. Allusion to bestiality? (though it wasn't, they're humans underneath, but... uhhhh... damn.)

Allusions to 1x3 and 1x5 (the 1x5 scene happened already, folks, so relax)

(by the way merde is french for shit ;P someone has a potty mouth... )

Author: Asuka Kureru

Garou + Part 27

A bird was singing somewhere over his head, and he could hear leaves rustling softly all around. A cool breeze was tickling his skin, on his ribs and belly, and Trowa frowned a little. He was naked...?

Slowly, sleep left him. He opened an eye, curious. He was resting on his side, in a sort of green room made of bushes for walls and trees for roof, and of soft grass under him. He felt good there, at ease...

He closed his eyes again, squirmed slightly to burrow a little tighter against the warm presence at his back.

And then, an arm moved, tightened its hold around his waist, and he tensed up.

"Awake?" asked a soft, low whisper. He could feel the words against his nape.

Trowa's eyes widened. There was a warm, masculine body spooning him. He wondered if maybe he should jump.

"It's Heero, stupid," the Japanese boy added, his tone somewhat amused.

Trowa stopped breathing. Everything was coming back, a jumbled mess of memories. The transformation, his wolf body, the exploration of the forest, the other wolf, that he had known, somewhat, to be Heero; the chase, and then...

There the memories got jumbled and blurry again... but more because they were more about feelings than about facts.

The European squirmed a little to try and catch a glimpse of his comrade. Heero's breath hitched for a second, then he tightened his hold on Trowa's waist.

"Careful," he advised in a slightly strangled voice. Some sparkles of that particular heat were awakening. Cautiously, the Japanese boy moved to leave some space between his groin and his comrade's butt.

"Sorry," Trowa whispered, and Heero saw his nape turn pink.

Trowa managed to twist around enough so that his upper body was nearly flat on the ground, and looked at the other boy. Heero leaned over him, propped up on an elbow, and they stared at each other in silence.

"How do you feel?" the messy-haired boy finally asked, breaking the weird silence that had fallen between them.

"M-mm. Very good..." the acrobat answered pensively, sounding slightly preoccupied.

"Too good?" Heero continued, arching an eyebrow.

Trowa didn't answer right away, searching for words that had deserted him. He was trying to sort his memories of the previous night, but it wasn't easy. He had... They had... Heero and him...

"I just have trouble believing that... This could have happened, just like that..."

"I'm sorry," answered the blue-eyed teen. "From what I gathered, I was... in heat the night before."

"That's what I thought," Trowa shot back, sarcastically.

"Did I... are you in any pain?"

Trowa took his time to answer, searching for the slightest twinge of that overwhelming pain that had engulfed him for so long. But the soreness he found was, strangely, not a bad pain at all. It was... just proof that he was still alive.

"No, I'm not." He didn't react to the sigh of relief that passed Heero's lips.

Trowa closed his eyes and relaxed. It was calm here; he liked it. Like a small corner out of the way of the world, out of the ugliness of the war... Beautiful, pacific, intact. He was safe in this clearing. Even the presence of the other teen wasn't an intrusion, wasn't a problem.

The smell of fresh grass was rising all around him, the potent scent of the earth below, the traces left by small rodents which had crossed the clearing soon before their arrival... The scent of his comrade. Alive, ever-changing, those changes small but captivating because they told him so much... He couldn't really understand what it said consciously, but somewhere in his head the unsorted information formed a very precise feeling, a strange awareness.

But that was only Heero's personal scent. There were other smells, in layers around it. Amongst all, the strongest was the one that had taken him by surprise the night before, the one that had invaded his brain and his senses... Luckily, it was a dead scent, no longer active. There were only traces left and they didn't truly affect him, or barely, like an echo. Heero wasn't emitting it any longer; it was only remnants. Over this one scent, Trowa's own scent, as human and as wolf, was that of another person... A predator, but not a wolf... One that he remembered from his illness, at his side, even though he hadn't been in any state to analyze what his senses sent him back then.

He decided to analyze it now.

"Is that Wufei I smell on you?" Trowa asked after having smelled Heero's hands for a few seconds; his expression that of pure perplexity.

Heero gave him an awkward little smile.

"... No?" Trowa said finally, trying to keep stoic.


The European teen fell back in the grass and stared at the top of the trees, shocked more than he liked to admit.

".. Wufei?"


"... Oh. Ah."

But no one else, the scents would have told him. That was something at least.

They left let a semi-comfortable silence fall on the clearing for a few minutes.

"Are you alright, Trowa? Generally, I mean."

"... Physically or mentally?"


"Physically... I'm fine. I'm very fine. Especially knowing that I spent... one week? two weeks in the throes of agony?"

Heero winced at remembering those atrocious times, hopefully finished for good.

"How do you feel now?"

Trowa gave a tiny sigh, which didn't go unnoticed by his comrade. Heero frowned. Trowa seemed to be disappointed not to feel worse, not to think he was cursed. It was to the point Heero wondered if he didn't have a martyr complex somewhere.

"Very good. It's as if the world is sharper, cleaner... Brand new. And I can smell and hear things... My body is aching in some places, but it's nothing exercise wouldn't cure. It's not a bad aches, you know...?"

Heero nodded. "Mentally?"

The ex-mercenary took a few minutes to analyze that question. It was surprising, but... he felt good. And the contact with his.../pack leader/ wasn't triggering any of the landmines he knew were there, that he usually could nearly feel waiting every time he was intimately close to someone. Hell, they were naked and Trowa wasn't in the least bit nervous!!

Though, that could be explained by the fact that they had just spent half a night going at it like rabbits. The wolf part of Trowa didn't see what there was to fear now.

He'd always been nervous when men got interested in him that way, even Quatre, who seemed so safe. He had never been able to let himself even consider their offers, even less relax enough to appreciate the fact that someone liked him. Not that he found the idea of being with a man inherently repulsive, but ... Being with a man was... being vulnerable. Trusting someone he wasn't sure of with something very precious. Putting himself in danger. 'Roberts -- all Roberts' fault'

/mating is trusting -- who do I trust? Who can I trust?/

But the night before, he just hadn't gotten a say. The wolf in him had not even thought about those nauseating memories of abuse. Hadn't thought at all, in fact. As for getting interested... It felt like his body had used the occasion to spend a whole adolescence of held back sexual impulses. He had wanted to do it, and he had liked it.

Way easier to be a wolf. Less headaches. Less problems to trust, to stop being afraid.

/why should I fear Heero? he's my pack leader. he's here to look after me. he would not hurt me. He's a friend.../

'...I think...'

He closed his eyes, trying to remember the question. Ah, yes, his mental health. Well, may as well be honest. Anyway he saw it, if he lied or hid things, Heero would know. And he didn't feel the need to hide from Heero. He knew that the other teen was used to keeping things bottled up most of the time. Heero wouldn't judge him; their reasons were probably similar. They understood each other. They were too much like each other not to.

"Calm. Relaxed. Remarkably so, considering that I'm nude and have another nude guy plastered against my backside."

Heero wondered if he should move away, but Trowa sounded very matter of fact about that affirmation and didn't seem to be that bothered by their intimacy. Quite the contrary in fact, he smelled serene, relaxed and not like he minded the contact skin-to-skin any. Furthermore, he wasn't even trying to get away by himself, so Heero figured he may as well stay where he was.

"So, you feel bad for not feeling bad?"

"...sort of."


"I don't know," Trowa sighed, vaguely annoyed.

The facts were there. He was snuggled up to another boy, said boy being glued to his back and in a good position to.. well... do whatever he wanted, and he couldn't do anything if Heero decided to... And the only need he felt was to press closer to fill the cold place where their skins had been touching before.

His whole adolescence, he had been sure that if a man ever touched him, he'd go berserk... His whole adolescence he had done everything to avoid situations where he could be trapped.

And he had enjoyed Heero jumping him without even thinking twice; it wasn't even bothering him. Nearly.

"Why didn't you feel bad yesterday?"

"... I don't really know... I didn't think about it , I guess. It was.. the wolf who was directing me... And..."


"It seems ridiculous to me to be afraid of you. You are... my...pack leader. If it had hurt me, you would have stopped. I trust you..."

Heero tightened his hug briefly to thank him, even though he wasn't as sure as Trowa that he could have stopped.

"And before? When you were a wolf and we hunted together? What do you think of that?"

The green-eyed teen thought about it at length.

"... magical. No other words."

Heero rested his chin on his comrade's shoulder and gave him a little smile.

"Do you understand now?"

Trowa nodded. Yes, now he knew exactly why Heero had finally decided that becoming a Were was more a benediction than a curse. Because he felt similarly. A whole new world was offered to him. A world full of incomprehensible and frightening things, but also full of surprises and wonders. And he wouldn't be alone if he decided to explore, not as Heero had been.

It was new, frightening. But thrilling, too.

"It's great, isn't it?"

"... Hell yeah."

More comfortable silence.

"Do you still resent Quatre a lot?"


Trowa disengaged from the embrace and stared at him, leaning back on his elbow.

"During your first fit," Heero told him in a carefully neutral tone, "you informed him that you considered what was happening his responsibility and didn't want him to ever appear in front of you. I'd like to know if it's still valid and if you intend on forgiving him one day, because I'm tired of having to guilt-trip him into eating in order to avoid a repeat of that passing out episode. The corridor in front of your bedroom isn't really the softest place to faint."

The green-eyed teen started as if Heero had punched him, staring at him in silence, eyes wide.

".. shit."

"Exactly my opinion."

Trowa rolled away from his comrade, sitting up in the grass a few feet away, and began to pluck grass blades nervously.

"I donít remember that... Did he really stay the whole time?"

"In the corridor. He even got a mattress. It was the closest he felt like he could go."

Trowa gulped, feeling his throat tighten slightly.

"It was still his fault... I never asked to be turned into a Were," he argued.

"Neither of us did," Heero shot back, sitting cross-legged in front of him.

"Yeah, but yours was an accident," Trowa growled, annoyed. "Quatre KISSED me. It was definitively NOT an accident."

Heero blinked. He had suspected that it was something like that, but now he had a proof. He wouldn't have thought that Quatre would ever have the courage to do it.

Visibly, Trowa still felt like bearing a grudge. Heero caught himself wishing for Duo to be here to help. He didn't know shit about that sort of relationships-related problems. He didn't even know if Trowa liked Quatre that way. If he didnít, there wasn't much of a chance that their friendship would ever recover.

He could still try to patch things up a little. He knew the way Trowa thought. What Trowa was unable to forgive was that Quatre had put his life and integrity in danger without worrying about anything else than his own wants...

Perhaps it would be better not to do anything and let them untangle their problems alone, but between Quatre's remorse and Trowa's glumness, it would be a while... Heero would tell Trowa a few things and let him decide, and hope that he would be helping things along instead of just making the break irreparable.

"Trowa... He was drunk."


"That evening, he was drunk. He and Duo found one of the Sweepers' reserve of booze and decided to help themselves."

"Quatre doesn't drink alcohol; he's Muslim," the European teen shot back dryly, as if he was accusing him of lying.

"Quatre didn't know it was alcoholic; it was whisky and coca," Heero answered patiently. "The taste of the alcohol isn't discernable under the rest, you know that."

Trowa blinked, remembering the bottle that the blond pilot had made him finish. Had there been alcohol in it and he hadn't even realized it?

"Duo was so wasted, he found it funny to drench Wufei and me in pink paint before running away, laughing hysterically. We had to run through the whole carrier to stop him, and then he couldn't stop hitting on us both and describing, in detail, the three-way he was thinking about. He was so totally plastered that he couldn't even stand up. And from what he told us, Quatre drank more than him."

There was only one word to apply to the situation.


The Japanese teen fell silent to let his comrade think about what he had said.

"Now that I'm thinking about it, he was talking... you know, slurring his words. And he was laughing a bit too loudly," Trowa admitted pensively. "... How did I manage not to see that?"

"Well, to your defense," Heero countered in a nearly indifferent tone, "you weren't expecting Quatre to be drunk, and from what Duo told us, he nearly doesn't change behavior until he falls over."

The European frowned, bothered by the fact that he hadn't noticed that his friend hadn't been in his normal state.

"I should have realized anyway. I mean, he would never have done that if he had been sober. I should have realized. It's probably why he avoided me; he didn't know how to tell me that it had been a mistake..."

Heero shook his head vigorously, his bangs flying around his face.

"It was definitely not a mistake."

"Pardon me?" Trowa growled, suspicious.

Heero realized that Trowa thought he was saying that Quatre had wanted to change him.

"I don't mean that he had intended to force himself on you... In fact I was sure that he had intended never to say anything at all. But..."


"I don't know if I should tell you, it isn't my secret after all," Heero answered, frowning, annoyed with himself about his own indecision.

"Youíve said too much and not enough already," Trowa shot back coldly.