Summary: 04+03, 03x04 Romance, angst, and other stuff.
Souls + Chapter 25
Cathy gave Trowa a worried
look in the mirror as they put on their makeup for the afternoon show.
"Trowa, what's wrong? You look terrible."
Trowa went on applying the white base to his forehead. Even without it,
he was pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes that hadn't been
there yesterday. "I guess I didn't sleep very well."
Cathy frowned. "It was that guy, right?"
Trowa said nothing. She knew already.
He'd had the vid phone dream again, for the second night in a row since
the blond called Quatre had tried to talk to him. He hadn't seen him around
the circus since, and he was torn between relief and disappointment.
In the dream last night he could see that face, and for the first time,
he began to get some of the audio, too. He couldn't make out the words,
but he could hear the tone of his voice and in the dream it warmed him
inside in a way not even Cathy had been able to do since his return.
"You knew who he was. Was-was Quatre a friend of mine?" Trowa murmured
to Cathy's reflection.
Her frown deepened. "I don't know who he is. I just know what he is, and
that means nothing but pain for you. Forget him, Trowa. Just put him out
of your mind. He's gone."
"Just like the other one. That guy with the braid."
"Yeah. Nothing but trouble."
Only it hadn't been the same, thought Trowa. The first boy had sparked
a panic reaction. This Quatre hadn't, at least not until after he'd gone,
and it hadn't been nearly as bad as the other. Trowa had thought a lot
about both of them over the past few days, and was convinced that they
had been friends. They must have been, the way they spoke to him. Why
was Catherine so angry with them? Had they done something to him, something
that had to do with his amnesia?
The manager came in smiling broadly. "We've got a great crowd out there!
I hope you two are ready to give it your best."
"We sure are, aren't we, Trowa?"
Lost in thought, Trowa just shrugged and went on with his makeup.
It was an effort to concentrate. Trowa's mind kept wandering as he waited
to go on. During his own act he stumbled and almost fell. That had never
happened before outside of practice. He got through it, took his bows
and went backstage again where Cathy and some of the other performers
were waiting to go on.
"What happened?" Cathy whispered. "What's wrong with you today?"
"I don't know-" A distant rumbling sound stopped the words in his throat.
Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck and his legs went weak under
"What was that?" one of the horse act girls whispered.
"Sounded like thunder," her partner replied.
"There's no thunder in space," Trowa whispered, shaking as the sound came
again, closer and louder now.
"Probably just construction somewhere else on the colony," Joli, the tightrope
walker said nervously.
The show went on, but the sounds grew closer and louder. Trowa changed
into his regular clothes, hands shaking so badly he had trouble zipping
his pants. Cathy had just completed her finale and the crowd was cheering
when a deafening roar shook the ground under them. Overhead the lights
swung and the canvass shivered.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Please don't panic! Please leave in an orderly
fashion so that no one gets hurt," the ringmaster urged, as the rumbling
and roaring continued.
Trowa stood frozen in the wings, heart pounding so hard it hurt. He knew
that sound from somewhere. It brought back all the fear and the terrible
memory of coldness, of being alone and so afraid-"
"Hey, look out!" Cathy screamed.
Too late he looked up to see a heavy spot light falling. Cathy dove at
him, knocking him out of the way before it crushed them both. He curled
into a ball, shuddering as the terrible noises continued, almost drowning
out with the shouting and the panicked cries of the animals.
Cathy held him. "Are you all right?"
Ashamed but too terrified to move, he clung to her. Suddenly he wasn't
looking at the shadowed tent, but blackness so deep and so empty that
it threatened to pull the soul from his body. "I'm cold! And I scared!"
he whimpered. "Something's coming!"
She held him tighter. "It's all right. I'm with you. I won't leave you.
"Thanks," he mumbled looking up. He could see her, see the love in her
eyes, the desire to protect him. He could see it, but he couldn't feel
anything except the terrible chill.
And then Quatre was there. He ran in through the confusion and found him
there, huddled in Cathy's arms. "Trowa! It's dangerous here. You've got
to get to shelter."
"What's going on?" Cathy demanded.
"It's a battle, OZ and White Fang." Another huge explosion shook the ground
and Trowa flinched. "Mobile suits are exchanging fire right near the colony."
Mobile suits. Trowa stiffened, hardly able to breath. Mobile suits. He
"By why?" Cathy said angrily, tightening her arms around Trowa as if she
thought Quatre was going to drag him away. "We're just trying to live
out our lives here in peace. How many people have to be sacrificed before
this ends?" Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clung to him. "I don't
want to lose anyone else. I couldn't stand it!"
The sound of her soft sobs broke through his own fear. Cathy was afraid!
Cathy was sad. He freed himself and rose up to face her, wiping away her
tears. "There's no need to cry, Cathy. I promise to protect you myself."
"I don't want to lose anyone else, either," said Quatre, looking down
at him with a sad smile. "You saved me once, Trowa. You saved my very
soul. Now it's my turn save people. That's what the Gundam was built for
in the first place."
Gundam? Something stirred in Trowa's memory. He knew what those were.
Everyone did. His hands twitched, curving into loose fists, feeling for-what?
Before he could figure it out, Quatre gave him a parting smile filled
with such emotion that he thought his heart would break, then turned and
ran from the tent.
Trowa stared after him, confused. Was it possible that that gentle, fragile
looking boy with the soulful eyes was a Gundam pilot? The battle sounds
raged around them now and Cathy was watching him with fearful eyes. He
didn't have time to figure this out now.
"I've got to get you to a safe shelter," he said, pulling her to her feet.
"Come one, there's an underground garage very close to here. You'll be
Before she could protest, he pulled her along, making his way thorugh
the fallen debris and the panicked crowds. And as he ran, he felt his
own fear falling away, replaced by a growing sense of purpose.
They reached the garage and he urged her down to the lower level, where
hundreds of other people had already taken shelter. There were police
here, keeping order. It was a good place, some long forgotten instinct
told him. And he felt something else, too. It was like he could hear the
little blonde's voice in his head, the way he had in his dream. He couldn't
make out any words, but he felt the sorrow and the bravery in him. The
sorrow was deeper than anything Trowa had ever felt, and the need. It
drew him away from Cathy, to the exit.
"Trowa, where are you going?" she cried, running after him.
"He's calling me," Trowa said, not really understanding it himself, but
knowing that somehow, he had to answer.
"I don't hear anybody."
"He's crying," Trowa murmured in wonder, feeling pain that wasn't his
own deep in his heart. "I can tell, from here!" Whoever Quatre was, Trowa
couldn't let him go this time without understanding the connection between
Cathy tried to stop him, but he gently pulled free and kissed her cheek.
"I'll come back. I promise. But I have to do this. I have to help."
"You can't!" Cathy sobbed. "You went through so much pain the last time.
Are you really planning to fight again?"
So it was true. Trowa smiled a little as the answer came to him without
any effort at all. "I have a faint memory of someone once telling me-"
Blue eyes; he remembered a pair of dark blue eyes. "Telling me that the
only way for anyone to live a good life is to act on their emotions."
Cathy sagged a little. "You're going to go. You're so stubborn! That side
of you hasn't changed a bit. You're nuts!"
"I promise you, I'll come back alive, Cathy." Her tears tugged at him
as he turned away, but his heart was telling him to go.
The Sweepers had been partly right, he thought as he ran for the space
dock. He had been pilot, but not an OZ pilot. And if Quatre was a Gundam
pilot, and maybe that boy with the braid as well, then did that mean that
he had been one, too?
The space dock was in chaos. It worked in his favor as he ran to an armed
shuttle and found it unattended. His fingers flew over the controls and
he didn't let himself question it, any more than he had that day when
he picked up the micro spanner on the Sweeper ship. His mind might not
remember, but his body and his instincts did. The transport lifted off
smoothly and the airlock opened for his beacon without challenge.
The battle was still raging outside. Mobile dolls were battling a motley
crew of White Fang irregulars, but there was another presence among, a
massive white, gold and green suit armed with huge guns and two heat scythes.
It danced and darted against the black backdrop of space, cleaving the
mobile dolls in two and shooting them to bits. Trowa watched in awe, noting
how careful the pilot was to angle his attacks away from the hull of the
colony. It was not unscathed, though. There were blast marks all over
it. The Gundam might withstand such punishment, but somehow Trowa knew
that the human pilot could still be hurt. He flew as fast as he could
to join him, but Quatre had finished the last of the enemy dolls by the
time he got there.
The hailing signal went off, then Quatre appeared on his monitor. He was
smiling, but his eyes were wide and full of tears. "Trowa!"
Trowa felt that otherness inside him again, felt the boy's love and fear
and sadness. "I think we must have a lot to talk about," Trowa replied.
No matter what, he would find out what they'd been to each other and try
Quatre led him to a larger transport ship and maneuvered his Gundam into
the open bay on its back.
Trowa found a pressure suit and put it on, preparing to transfer. As he
reached for the airlock button, however, a wave of fresh panic hit him.
He crouched there by the panel, filled with fear. It was cold and dark
out there. He'd been lost in that blackness for who knew how long. Now
he was going to risk it again.
Only his determination to get to Quatre gave him the strength to get through
the airlock and propel himself across to the other ship.
It steadied him at once, finding Quatre waiting there for him. A tall,
black haired woman was with him, and introduced herself as Lucretzia Noin.
He could tell at once that she'd known him, too, and she seemed as happy
as Quatre was to see him.
"Welcome back, Trowa Barton. I'm glad you're back, even if you don't remember
our time in Antarctica."
Trowa felt another vague stir of memory. Something had happened there,
too, but what?
"We were sorry to hear about the-accident. You really have no memory at
all?" she asked.
"Accident?" Trowa glanced at Quatre, but the other boy looked away, saying
Trowa wanted nothing more than to get Quatre to himself in a cabin and
find out his past, but just then a man's voice came over the airlock com
"Lieutenant Noin, we have an incoming transmission I think you should
Trowa and Quatre followed her to the bridge, and watched together as the
famous Sanque princess and diplomat, Relena Peacecraft, made a statement.
She was dressed in a formal gown and wore a small crown on her head.
"Quiet, everyone," ordered Noin. "The speech is starting."
"What's going on?" asked Quatre.
"You're friend is working for Romefeller now, one of the bridge officers
said, shaking his head in disgust.
"No, That can't be. Shut up and listen to what she has to say," said Noin.
"I ask that you all discard your weapons and stop fighting" Relena looked
very serious and determined as she gazed into the camera. "I am sure we
are all hoping for the same future. So together let us all advance toward
these objectives. I am announcing the elimination of all national borders.
These have been the cause of wars around the world. I declare there is
one nation; the World Nation."
She was speaking from some large ornate state chamber, and the assembly
rose as one to applaud her announcement.
"Look, there's Dorothy Catalonia," said Quatre, pointing to a girl with
very long pale blond hair in the front of the crowd by the podium. Trowa
searched her face, but was certain he didn't know her. Yet something about
that hair, so long and thick and pale-Another shiver of cold crept over
him and he pushed the thought away. Another official was announcing that
Relena now held the title of Queen.
"She's the granddaughter of Duke Dermail. She was with Relena in Sanque
when Heero and Quatre and I were there. I think she's been trying to influence
Relena all along. Maybe this was her plan."
"No, Relena must know what she'd doing. What choice did she have, if she
was going to preserve her ideals and stop the fighting?" said Quatre.
"I don't think this will stop Kanz and White Fang, though," said Trowa,
who'd heard rumors on every colony as the circus moved around. "They distrust
Earth too much."
"I'm afraid you're probably right," said Quatre. "Well, there's nothing
we can do right now. Noin, I'm going to show Trowa around the ship. Hail
me if you need me."
He led Trowa back to the bay and let him climb into the cockpit, and settled
beside him in the close confines there. "Do you remember anything at all,
Trowa's hands closed knowingly around the joy sticks, and his feet found
the foot pedals. "Not exactly." But his heart beat a little faster, sitting
here. It was familiar, but it wasn't. "I-I was a Gundam pilot, wasn't
"You are. Your suit is called Heavyarms. You trained on L-3."
"Did I meet you there?"
He felt another wave of sadness as Quatre shook his head. "No, we met
on Earth, in Arabia, after a battle. There are five of us, and we all
came to Earth separately. You and I had never met before, but when we
did-Well, you came home with me and we hid out together for a while. We
played music and-You really don't remember? Not even a little?" He was
blushing now, and Trowa felt a spike of something that wasn't fear. No,
it was something much sweeter.
"I wish I did," Trowa said.
Quatre climbed out. "Well, maybe you will, right?" He spoke lightly but
Trowa saw how his cheeks were flushed and that sadness was still strong
in him. It made Trowa want to hold him until it went away, but he didn't
know if Quatre would want that.
Quatre showed him around the rest of the large ship. There were more mobile
suits, not Gundams but Taurus and Aries stolen from various battlefields.
Trowa sat in one, knowing he could fly any of these, too. That was very
They ate supper with the crew and Trowa was aware of curious looks from
the others on him through the whole meal. Escaping as soon as he could,
he followed Quatre to his room, where he kept his computer.
Quatre pulled up files on the other pilots and showed him pictures as
Trowa sat in a chair beside him. There was the other boy who'd come to
the circus, Duo Maxwell. He was grinning in the picture and Quatre smile
wistfully, looking at it. "He's a good friend, but-well, the war has changed
a lot of things. I miss him." Blinking, he pulled up two other pictures:
Heero Yuy and Chang Wufei. The Chinese boy rang no bells with Trowa, but
something about Yuy's eyes seemed familiar. "I know him, too, don't I?"
"He's your friend, Trowa. They both are. You saved Heero's life, when
he was terribly wounded after a self-detonation. You two were together
for months on Earth, before you came back to space."
Trowa could only nod. He felt nothing but curiosity and frustration, looking
at the picture, and that made him sad. "So, what did happen to me, anyway?
Miss Noin said there was an accident?"
Quatre shut the computer down and folded his hands. "She was just trying
to spare my feelings, I'm afraid. It was no accident, Trowa. It was me.
I attacked you, hurt you. I didn't mean to-but, that doesn't excuse it."
Trowa searched his heart for some sign of anger, but there was nothing.
Instead, he wished he knew some way to take the sadness from those blue
eyes. "Tell me what happened, please."
So Quatre did, and it took a long time. By the time he finished trying
to explain the effect the Zero system had on him, he was crying softly.
"Heero-he tried-tried to stop me. But it was you, your voice, Trowa that
pulled me back from the brink. But then, it was too late! I'd already
destroyed your suit and it was-was going to blow and you, you just blasted
away. We saw the explosion and I thought-I thought-" He pressed his face
into his hands, shoulders shaking. "I was so sure I'd killed you! Heero
wanted to kill me for what I'd done, and I didn't care. I'm so sorry,
Trowa! So, so damn sorry. Can you ever forgive me? I don't deserve it,
Trowa's mind might have no memory, but his body did. // Follow your
emotions. // He reached out and gently touched Quatre's cheek, brushing
away the tears as he had with Cathy. He felt the flutter of Quatre's startled
gasp, and the way he leaned into Trowa's touch. He was warm, so warm.
Like the sun. And golden too, like sunlight, or-" He struggled to remember,
but there was something just out of reach. Giving up, he followed his
heart and gathered the sobbing boy in his arms, holding him close and
stroking his hair. "It's all right, Quatre. I know someone like you couldn't
hurt me on purpose. It was the Zero system and you fought it. If I spoke
to you like that afterwards, then I knew it then, and I forgave you then.
Please, don't cry. It's all right. I'm all right, and I'm here with you
Quatre threw his arms around Trowa and held on, clinging to him desperately
as he wept himself out. At last he sat back and wiped his face on the
sleeve of his pink shirt. "I'm sorry. You're the one who was hurt, but
I've just missed you so much! But you're back, right? Everything will
be all right now. But you must be exhausted. The cabin next door is empty.
You should get some sleep."
Trowa was tired, bone weary in fact, but he felt quite reluctant to leave.
As he stretched out on the narrow bed he'd been given, he flung an arm
across his eyes and tried to summon some memory. // Anything! There's
more to all this than Quatre is telling me, more between the two of us.
Just as he was dozing off, on the edge of a dream, he suddenly seemed
to feel lips against his own. Quatre's lips. He knew exactly what they
would feel like, pressed to his, what they'd taste like, how he'd respond,
as surely as he'd known the feeling of the Gundam controls the moment
he'd touched them. And just as surely as he recognized his body's strong
response to the thought of kissing him.
"We were lovers!" he whispered aloud. No wonder Quatre had been so sad
when he didn't remember him! He'd been heartbroken.
Even without his memory, Trowa knew he was no stranger to sex, and that
he was gay. He'd had a few flings with some of the men in the circus,
nothing serious or involving any attachment, but it had been pleasurable
and he'd been good at it. // Oh god, // he thought, overcome with
remorse. // I cheated on him and didn't even know it! And now he's
alone in there, thinking that whatever we had didn't mean anything. I
come back from the dead and don't even know him. // At least he'd
never kissed any of the others. Something had held him back and now he
realized it had been his feelings for Quatre.
No wonder he'd felt such pain from him. Even now, he got another flash
of it, just like he'd felt when he was with Cathy in that shelter. Quatre
was crying again.
Trowa rolled out of bed and hastily tugged on his pants, then went next
door and knocked softly. "Quatre, it's me. Can I come in?"
There was a long pause, then he heard a rustle and the door inched open.
The room was dark, but the light from the corridor showed him that Quatre's
face was flushed and damp, and his eyes were red. Without a word, Trowa
gently pushed him back into the room, closed the door, and took him in
his arms. It was too dark to see, but he could feel the way Quatre melted
against him. This felt right, more right than anything had since the Sweepers
had pulled him from space.
"I'm so sorry, Quatre. I think I remembered a little. I love you, don't
A startled gasp was his only answer. Trowa found his lips and kissed him,
and it was just as he'd imagined, good and familiar and right. Quatre
wrapped himself around him, burying his hands in Trowa's hair. His body
was warm and eager against Trowa's and he could feel the hard length of
an erection against his thigh.
Trowa needed no memory for this. This was a language his body spoke fluently.
He let his hands roam, relearning the contours of Quatre's body, the play
of skin and muscle, the firm round swell of his ass. Quatre shivered and
moaned into his mouth, seeking his tongue with his own. He was dressed
in some sort of pajamas. Trowa pulled the top over his head, then thrust
his hands down the back of the loose pants, relishing the silky skin there.
"Oh god, Quatre, you're so beautiful! I remember you. My body remembers
you. I love you!"
"I know. I feel it now. And I love you, too," Quatre whispered, tense
and trembling in his arms.
Quatre didn't know what to do. It was clear that Trowa still did not remember
how things had been between them, but the feeling of love was so clear
that Quatre knew better than to doubt it. Trowa had guarded his feelings
before, the few times they'd been together, but when they'd kissed Quatre
had been given glimpses of this emotion. Now it was raw and naked, as
naked has he was now that Trowa had found the drawstring of his pajama
pants and pulled it loose. The pants fell away, leaving him bare and pressed
to Trowa. He was still wearing his jeans, but his chest was bare and Quatre
pressed him cheek to it, amazed at the connection between them. Trowa
loved him, but more than that, he desired him, wanted to have sex with
him, right here and now.
Quatre thought of that last night they'd spent together before the New
Edwards raid. Trowa had been so shy with him then, trying so hard to hide
his feelings, as if he didn't think they were right. He'd gotten up in
the middle of the night and left, to escape those feelings.
// To protect me, // Quatre thought. He'd known it, even then.
But something had changed and now Trowa was hungry for him, holding nothing
back. He sensed that Trowa somehow believed that they'd really been lovers,
rather than friends who messed around, as Duo put it.
//I should tell him,// Quatre thought, even as Trowa kissed him dizzy.
// I should stop him until we've had a chance to talk more. //
But he didn't want to. The memory of his own hurt the night Trowa had
fled kept him quiet now as Trowa kissed him and caressed his bottom with
those big, warm hands. They were roughened from his circus work, and the
feeling of them made the hair on Quatre's neck stand up. It made his cock
stand up, too, and those hands soon found it. He wished he could see Trowa's
face, but he didn't need to, to feel the mix of love and lust boiling
through his veins.
"I love you," Trowa whispered again, stroking a hand up and down Quatre's
It felt so good he thought he might faint. "I love you too, Trowa. I missed
you so much."
That meant sex. Quatre desperately tried to recall all that Duo had told
him. Did Trowa want to "do him"? And if so, did it really mean what Duo
had said? Quatre was caught in a torrent of arousal and fear. He wanted
to ask Trowa what they were going to do, but he was afraid if he did,
Trowa would guess the truth and stop. Did he want him to? No, definitely
not! "I want you, too!" he whispered back. Suddenly he thought of Noin,
rooming right next door. What would she think if she heard something?
"We have to take it easy, Trowa, and be quiet."
Trowa licked teasingly down his throat. "Copy that. Stealth mode." Quatre
felt him slide down his body, then a warm, wet mouth engulfed his erection.
He had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from shouting, it felt so
good. Strong hands cupped his buttocks, holding him up and rocking his
hips as Trowa's lips and tongue drove him wild with pleasure. A blow job.
This was a blow job and it was Trowa giving it to him. And he was so good
at it! Burying his hands in that thick unruly hair again, Quatre wondered
if he'd had other lovers.
That was a mistake. Perhaps it was the intense emotion, or the fact that
they were touching each other so intimately, but suddenly he was deluged
with faces. It was a blur, mostly, but he had no doubt that he was seeing
all the men Trowa had ever been intimate with, and there must have been
hundreds! Shocked and dismayed at his own intrusion, he pushed away from
Trowa and stumbled backward, tumbling heavily onto the bed. He'd recognized
one face and was too shocked for a moment to even fathom how he felt.
"Quatre, what's wrong?" Trowa asked anxiously. "Did I hurt you? Turn on
the light, please!"
Quatre pulled a sheet around himself, then found the switch. Trowa was
kneeling in the center of the room with his jeans undone. A huge erection,
much larger than Quatre's, jutted up from the open fly, the tip beaded
with clear liquid.
Cum, Duo's voice whispered from the past.
"Did you---ah, come?" he gasped without thinking.
Trowa gave him a worried grin. "No. What's wrong?" He faltered to a halt,
taking in how Quatre had covered himself. "I got it wrong, didn't I? We
weren't--You didn't want--Oh no!"
He looked so devastated that Quatre immediately drew him up on the bed
and put his arms around him. "No, you didn't get it wrong. Not at all.
I just--we just-" He wanted so badly to lie, so that Trowa would keep
doing what he'd been doing, but he couldn't. "We never got this far, but
I wanted to! I really did, and I do now."
A look of terrible confusion came over Trowa's face. "But I thought I
remembered--I do love you. I'm sure of it!"
"Yes, you do. But we've never-- made love. You always held back, and I--I
didn't know --" He trailed off, embarassed. He was also thinking of all
those other men. Had Trowa been in love with them? Somehow, he didn't
feel that, but he knew that Trowa was very experienced and liked sex a
// Zechs Merquise!? //
He shook his head, wondering how that could have happened, unless it had
something to do with Trowa working under cover, as Duo had told him. He
wondered if he should feel jealous, but his body had other ideas.
"We never had the time to do very much," he said. "But we do now. Could
we--could you show me what you like? I really liked what you were doing
to me--with your mouth." His cheeks felt like they were on fire, but it
wasn't just embarrassment and it wasn't anything to do with shame. He
wanted Trowa! He'd wanted him since the day they'd met. This might be
wrong and sinful, but he couldn't stop.
To his relief, Trowa nodded and reached for the light, but Quatre stayed
his hand. "No, I want to see you."
Trowa kissed him again, those green eyes soft with passion, and then pulled
at the sheet tangled around Quatre's waist. "I want to see you, too. You're
so beautiful. Most beautiful boy I've ever seen."
Quatre laughed uneasily as he let him pull the sheet away. "Are you sure?
You might just not remember."
Trowa kissed him again, and pressed him down on the bed. "My heart knows.
I don't think I've ever loved anyone before, not like this. I--I've been
trying to remember you, Quatre. I missed you so much!"
"But now that you know what I did to you?"
Trowa kissed him, then scattered more kisses down his chest, pausing to
circle Quatre's nipples with his tongue. "Doesn't matter. Not your fault.
Just want to stay with you now."
Quatre arched under him, fighting not to cry out again as that mouth worked
its teasing way back to his aching cock. "Oh Trowa!"
He came almost at once, biting his lip to stay quiet as he jerked and
bucked against that mouth. Trowa held him firmly, working with his mouth
and tongue to wring ever-increasing levels of pleasure from his body.
Quatre had only had one real orgasm before, not counting wet dreams, and
that had been by accident with Duo. This time it was different. He was
ready and it felt so right. It was good. It was perfect, and when it was
over Trowa held him until he stopped sighing and shaking and kissed him
again and again, sharing the strange salty flavor of his own fluids with
As he came down from the incredible high, Quatre could feel Trowa's need,
both empathically, and from the way that huge erection was digging into
his thigh. "I want to make you feel good, too. Tell me what you want."
He got a sudden flash from Trowa. In it, Trowa was lying between his legs,
putting his penis inside him. Doing him. Oh, god, Duo hadn't been joking,
after all! "Trowa, I never--we never--"
Trowa kissed him to silence. "I'll never do anything you don't want. I'd
never hurt you, meli."
"Meli! Trowa, you called me meli!" Quatre looked up at him in wonder.
"That's what you always called me, before. It means--"
"Honey," Trowa finished, shaking his head in surprise. "Yeah, I remember
that. I knew there was something--" He caught his breath as Quatre's hand
closed around that long curved shaft. "Oh, meli, yes! Touch me. That's
all--all I need. Just your touch!"
"Shh!" Quatre warned. "Our friends next door will come bursting in here,
thinking I'm being attacked!"
Trowa clamped his mouth shut and fell back against the pillows as Quatre
continued to stroke him. Feeling bolder and still glowing from his orgasm,
Quatre sat up and used both hands, cupping Trowa's balls to see what they
felt like. They were bigger than his, too. He looked like a child compared
to Trowa, but the other boy didn't seem to mind that. He was moaning softly
and thrusting up into his hands and murmuring, "So beautiful, mi amori.
Dolchi mio! Yes, yes, like that! Oh, meli, honey, sweet, sweet, beautiful-"
Then he was coming hard, choking back a cry as his hips pistoned up under
Quatre's hands and thick white fluid shot up from the tip of his cock
in three or four long bursts, getting all over him and Quatre and the
sheets. He remained arched back, looking almost like he was in pain, then
he collapsed and pulled Quatre down on top of him, panting against his
neck and rubbing his still hard cock against Quatre's spent one. "So beautiful!
"Really?" Quatre murmured, tired and pleased. "I'm so glad, Trowa. I never
thought we'd really be together like this, but I wanted to. I wanted you
"You have me, meli!"
They dozed a little, then woke each other more aroused than ever. Trowa
showed him something called sixty-nine, and they held each other close
and sucked each other's erections until they came again. It wasn't easy
to do, even though Quatre was very willing. But Trowa really was huge,
and he kept gagging when that big swollen head hit the back of his throat.
Trowa just chuckled and pulled back a little, controlling his thrusts
so that Quatre could concentrate on sucking the head. He knew this must
be very wicked, but he didn't care. He liked this, the way Trowa felt
and tasted, and the way his body responded, and he kept at it until Trowa
came in his mouth. It was a bit of a shock. Trowa had a musky, bitter
taste, but Quatre remembered what he'd done for him and gamely swallowed
it down, trying to ignore how his stomach rebelled as he kept licking
"Oh, Quatre!" he whispered, still shuddering as he rubbed his face on
Quatre's thighs like a big, happy cat. "Oh, sweet, sweet honey---So good!"
Quatre stroked his hip and thigh, rather proud of himself. "I liked it,
too. You're so-I just-" Words failed him, but he'd never felt quite this
Trowa recovered very quickly, did something with his tongue and throat
then that made Quatre come so hard he saw stars. They fell asleep still
holding each other like that, and woke a little while later and did it
all over again.
Really spent this time, Quatre glanced at his watch on the bedside table,
then crawled up to collapse in Trowa's arms. "We probably shouldn't let
anyone find us like this."
Trowa opened one green eye. "Why not?"
Quatre sighed. "My family, and the men who fight for me? They wouldn't
understand. What we did just now isn't allowed where I'm from."
"But you did it anyway."
"I wanted to. I want to be with you like that, Trowa, no matter what anyone
says. But I don't want to hurt them, either. Is it awful of me to want
to keep this quiet for now?"
Trowa shrugged and sat up. "Up to you. I'll go back to my room, and I
won't say anything." Those green eyes, so warm and open before, seemed
like closed windows now, and Quatre sensed a deep hurt in him. He caught
him before he could get out of bed and held him, pressing himself to Trowa's
bare back. "I'm not ashamed of what we just did! I swear to you, I'm not."
Trowa went still, but didn't relax or look at him. "I don't understand.
I love you. You love me. Why does it matter what anyone else thinks?"
"It shouldn't but it does," Quatre said sadly. "The Maguanacs have fought
hard for me, risked their lives, and saved mine. They follow me because
they respect me. If they knew that I--that I'm gay, then they wouldn't.
I'd lose their respect and their support. I care about them, Trowa. Maybe
later, when things are different, I can explain it to them, but I don't
want them to find out like this, in the middle of a war. But that doesn't
change the way I feel about you!"
Trowa gently pried Quatre's arms from his waist and stood to retrieve
his discarded jeans. Even worried by the sudden change in mood, Quatre
drank in the sight of him. Trowa was so beautiful, lean and lanky, with
a few scars scattered over his smooth skin. He pulled on the tight jeans,
still not looking back at Quatre, and said quietly, "Perhaps I'll understand
better, when my memory comes back. If it does. Good night, Quatre. I really
enjoyed that, and I do love you."
"I love you, Trowa." But Quatre's heart hurt as he watched Trowa slink
out like a thief and close the door silently behind him. And he hadn't
kissed him good-bye, either. Duo always had--Well, he always had in Arabia.
He hadn't the other day. He'd been strangely distant, his smile the old
fake one, not the genuine one he'd shown him in the desert. Quatre lay
down and curled miserably around the pillow, wishing it was Trowa. This
night shouldn't have ended like this. It was his own fault, as usual.
He'd hurt Trowa's feelings and sent him away, after he'd been so good
He lay there for some time. His heart was beating too hard to let him
sleep and his stomach felt bad, not from what he'd done with Trowa, but
from guilt. At last he pulled on his pajamas and went to Trowa's door,
only to find it locked.
He tapped softly, not wanting to wake up anyone else. "Trowa, open up.
It's me." There was no answer. He knocked again, a little louder. "Trowa?
Please, I'm sorry. Let me in."
Only silence from the other side of the door, and there was nothing to
do but go back to his lonely bed with his guilt.
Trowa had stopped at his room just long enough to grab a shirt. Then he'd
gone straight to the suit bay and climbed into Sandrock's cockpit, closing
There, shut in the comforting confines, with Quatre's scent lingering
all around him, he gave in to confusion. Quatre had wanted him, loved
him, and then sent him away? He felt angry and used. He'd kissed
him, for fuck's sake! Quatre obviously cared more about what his friends
thought than he did about Trowa!
But that thought just wouldn't stick, angry as he was. It felt wrong,
even through the hurt.
A little while later he sensed that Quatre was crying again, but had no
idea what to do about it. Was this part of why Catherine had been so angry
when Quatre showed up? He clenched his fists against his temples, willing
his memory to come back! But all he seemed to grasp was the love he felt
for the confusing boy, and how right it had felt to say it out loud, and
to touch him and be touched by him. His body ached wonderfully from all
they'd done. All he'd wanted afterwards was to fall asleep holding him!
His eyes smarted and he wiped at them angrily. Was this how sex had always
been for him? Somewhere deep inside, he thought maybe it had been. But
he'd believed Quatre when he said he loved him! Had that been a lie?
His mind went round and round, and he only ended up making himself more
miserable. He was so distracted he was caught completely off guard when
the hatch hissed open and Quatre climbed down to join him. He looked every
bit as unhappy as Trowa. He was dressed now, but he still smelled like
fucking. Without a word he curled up in Trowa's lap and pulled his arms
"What are you doing here?" Trowa growled, not ready to forgive him just
yet, though he was incredibly glad to see him. "How did you find me?"
"I felt you," Quatre mumbled, pressing his face to Trowa's chest. "I'm
so sorry! Please forgive me!"
"I can't be with you if you're ashamed of me."
"I'm not! It's not you. You don't understand, Trowa. You don't remember
what it was like, where I'm from. I don't think you ever had any trouble
where you're from, but it's different on L-4. They're very religious and
old fashioned. I-it's not easy, admitting that I'm--what I feel for you.
But I can't deny it and I'm not ashamed of that! I love you and that can't
be evil or wicked, can it?"
"It's not." Trowa relented a little and held him. He was so warm, and
smelled like sex and spice. "Even if I never get my memory back, I know
what I feel for you is real."
"Then give me some time to figure this out, please? I really do want to."
Trowa sighed, unable to resist pressing his cheek to that silky blond
hair. It was so cool and soft, so good against his skin. He couldn't imagine
not ever feeling it again. "I'll try. But I don't understand. Will you
stay here with me now?"
Quatre nodded. "It was just being in bed like that with you, with people
right next door. I guess I panicked."
There was something in Quatre's tone that made him frown and tighten his
arms around him. What kind of friends would turn their backs on someone
like Quatre, just for falling in love? Perhaps if his memory came back,
he would understand how someone as brave as Quatre could be so afraid
[ch. 24] [ch. 26] [back
to Pyrzm's fic]