Author: pyrzm
Summary: 03x04 heats up. Shinigami's return.

Lost Souls + Chapter 26
In the Dark

Over the next week a pattern was established, one that Trowa seemed to have no choice but to go along with.

Noin was flying them to a Winner resource satellite, where Quatre could complete the necessary upgrades so Sandrock could fight effectively in space. By day, Trowa busied himself helping the techs tune and retrofit the stolen Taurus suits in the bay. By day he and Quatre were friends, nothing more. Once, when he was certain they were alone in the suit bay, Trowa had impulsively leaned over Quatre as he was working on the computer monitor beside Sandrock and tried to give him a playful kiss on the cheek. Quatre had jumped back like he'd been burned, and there was such shock and anxiety in his expression that Trowa hadn't tried it again.

Trowa hated the situation, and for a number of reasons. He was a tactile person. He liked being touched and touching, but Quatre made it clear that such behavior would be out of character with the way they'd been before Trowa's memory loss. He wondered how such attraction could have existed between them without them doing something about it. Even as he tried to accept that, for he was certain Quatre would not lie to him, there was a deeper, unspoken tension to the situation, something Trowa was certain lay just beyond the fog that sealed his memory.

The night shift was another matter. As soon as they were sure the small crew had settled into their cabins for the sleep cycle, they met furtively in the bay and hid themselves away in Sandrock's cockpit, the only place Quatre seemed to feel safe. Here his caution and fear fell away as easily as his clothing. He was all over Trowa, kissing, touching, licking, groping like there was no tomorrow.

And perhaps there wasn't, given what they picked up by monitoring the news channels. Factions were forming on Earth and in space and everyone seemed to be fighting wildly, with no sure goal. Noin and Quatre seemed unsure whom to back and kept their distance. There were scattered reports of pilot 05, attacking any mobile suit he met in space, and raiding various installations. Yuy was still fighting alone on Earth. Maxwell was MIA.

Trowa had a hard time caring, since he had very little idea whose side he'd been on before he lost his memory. All he cared about now was Cathy, safe with the circus on L-1, and Quatre, who confused the hell out of him all day and then confused him even more at night.

There wasn't a lot of room to maneuver inside Sandrock, but they were young and supple enough to make out there anyway. Quatre usually ended up straddling Trowa's thighs as he sat in the con chair. Naked, skin to skin, they kissed wildly, hands and tongues flying over each other's bodies. They jerked each other off, sucked each other off, rubbed bellies until they spurted and glued themselves together. Quatre had the foresight, after that first night, to bring supplies to clean themselves and the cockpit up with, but Trowa wondered if the smell of their lovemaking would linger forever.

It was so hard to square the naked, moaning, squirming boy here to the polite, controlled, and profoundly inhibited young man who planned and analyzed all day with Noin and the others. It was like dealing with two different people, as different as night and day. And that, too, was unsettling for Trowa, who wasn't even certain who he really was, but knew he wasn't ashamed of how he felt.

Every time Quatre left him to steal back to his room alone, Trowa felt a terrible sadness settle over him, tinged with resentment. Some nights he even vowed that this time was the last time, that he'd tell Quatre he didn't want to do this any more. But then he slept and woke with a raging hard-on that he wanted to give only to Quatre. He had to deal with him all day, close enough to smell his enticing scent, even feel his warmth, but too distant to touch or talk about any of this. By the time evening came, though, his body's yearning was overriding his mind again, and all it took was one meaningful look from Quatre and he was right back in that cockpit again, all his doubts swept away for a time by Quatre's full-throttle lovemaking.

And it was love, too, not just sex. He could feel it, even when Quatre wasn't whispering it in his ear or against his thigh. Trowa said it back, too, but every time he did, a little voice deep inside asked, "What are we so ashamed of, that we have to hide?"

He'd tried to understand about Quatre's family and culture, but they weren't anywhere near L-4. He wondered if Miss Noin would care, if she knew. He doubted it. But he could not even attempt to bring the subject up without Quatre going still and silent and withdrawn. It was hurting him, too, this subterfuge, but he would not let go of it. Trowa tried to tell himself that this was enough for now, that there was nothing wrong, that he had no reason for the vague sense of unease that gnawed at him as he lay alone on his narrow bunk, Quatre's rich scent still clinging to his skin.

But something was wrong, and he feared it went deeper than Quatre's fear of discovery. If only his mind would clear!

Their third night together in Sandrock they were in the con chair again, with Quatre naked on Trowa's lap, his body a tight little furnace of heat and passion. He looked so innocent by day, but as soon as they were safely alone here, a wanton look came into those big blue eyes that thrilled Trowa. Quatre was always beautiful, day or night, but when he was turned on like this he glowed. There was still an air of innocence about him that added spice to the mix, especially with his incredible eagerness to learn all Trowa had to teach him about giving each other pleasure. In cooler headed moments during the day Trowa found this one more element it was hard to square in his mind. How could Quatre be so fearless and uninhibited with him, yet so uptight in front of others?

Lost now in a mind-bending kiss, Trowa wasn't bothered by such concerns as he let his hands wander down Quatre's smooth back. Quatre had spent some time on the warm coast of Sanque with the pilot called Yuy, and his chest, face and back still held a tinge of golden summer tan. Modest as always, he'd worn shorts or a bathing suit, and the tan line ended just below his waist, leaving his bottom milky white. Quatre was a blond who tanned, rather than burned. Trowa imagined what he'd look like after a few months on some tropical island Earth side. Trowa smiled at the image, all the while enjoying the way his hands looked so brown and large cupping those tight, pale little cheeks. He kneaded them, making Quatre groan with pleasure, and then his fingertip brushed by chance across the exposed, puckered little opening between them.

Quatre's eyes went wide as he gasped and shivered. "That felt good! Do it again."

Surprised but pleased, Trowa happily obliged, circling that opening with his fingers and teasing the incredibly soft skin around it. Quatre's eyes fluttered shut as he arched his back, seeking more stimulation. "So good! Tickles so--sooooo good!"

Trowa's cock, trapped against Quatre's between them, throbbed and twitched. It was a definite turn on, seeing the effect this had on Quatre. He was shuddering against Trowa now, grinding their erections together with a delicious friction slicked with sweat and precum. Trowa pushed Quatre back a little and leaned forward to swirl the tip of his tongue around one tiny, hard pink nipple. Quatre came with a strangled, high-pitched squeal Trowa had never heard him make before. That set him off, too, and he added his hot load to Quatre's between them. He had presence of mind enough left to keep tickling Quatre's ass and his lover's orgasm seemed to go on forever.

When it was over and they lay panting in each other's arms, Quatre gave a last shiver of pleasure and gasped out, "Wow!"

"I guess you're really sensitive there. I'll keep that in mind from now on," Trowa chuckled.

Quatre nestled closer, tucking his head under Trowa's chin. "Aren't you? I could--"

"No!" Trowa replied quickly, without even thinking about it, and with a sudden forcefulness that surprised them both. "I-no. Not everyone likes that," he said more gently, wondering how he knew. "But it's OK if you do. I like touching you anywhere that makes you feel good. I wish there was room to sixty-nine in here. Then I could really make use of this updated intelligence."

Quatre's delighted chuckle tickled against his neck. Trowa held him close, wishing again that Quatre would come to bed with him and just be held. Trowa wanted that softness and warmth with him between the sheets. He wanted to see what Quatre looked like when he was asleep, how his breathing sounded, to hear what little noises he might make. Sometimes they dozed off for a little while, but it wasn't the same. Quatre always fought to stay awake, fearful of being found here.

It was no different this time. He lingered a little longer, perhaps, and looked more apologetic than usual as he climbed off Trowa's lap to clean himself up with the moist towels he'd brought with him. The ever lurking sadness stole over Trowa as he watched him, thinking how much easier it would be just to shower together.


Trowa spent a lot of time during the day in the Taurus suit Noin had assigned him. The controls of the big, white suit were similar to the Gundams, and Trowa's memory, as always, served him well here, if nowhere else.

Noin and Quatre were convinced that he'd hidden his own Gundam, Heavyarms, somewhere on Earth, but try as he would, he could not remember where or when. Even when Quatre showed him pictures of the heavily armed suit, he just couldn't connect.

"My fault," Quatre said sadly, lying in his arms that night, their sixth together.

Trowa stroked his hair. He didn't blame Quatre for anything that had happened, but sometimes the terrible cold and blackness welled up in him again. He was glad he didn't have any more memory than that of what it must have been like, floating alone in the vastness of space. He wondered if he'd be able to fight out there again, if he had to?

Two days later he found out. They were in sight of the satellite, which had been destroyed, when a squadron of OZ fighter ships and mobile dolls appeared out of nowhere and opened fire. Without a second thought, Trowa ran with the others to the bay, pulled on his flight suit and helmet, and blasted out to meet the enemy.

Once again, as soon as he felt the g forces and the controls under his hands and feet, some long forgotten training kicked in, and instinct, too. He fought effortlessly, efficiently, blasting doll after doll, but they just kept coming.

He couldn't begin to match Quatre's performance, though. Even without the modifications, the Gundam was in a class by itself and Quatre ended up taking on the bulk of the fighting while Trowa and Noin backed him up. This was the first time he'd seen his lover in action, at least that he remembered, and he was amazed. Quatre the warrior was a force to be reckoned with, as fearless here as he was during sex. The gold and white suit almost seemed to dance, he moved so quickly, and those curved sickles he wielded spelled death and destruction for anyone who got too close.

Even so, they were badly overmatched by sheer numbers. Trowa was holding his own, barely, when he took a bad hit and suddenly found himself spinning away out of control. His weapons systems were empty. As he got the suit stabilized he found himself facing a black Taurus doll with no armaments left to fight. He threw his guns at it in frustration, then braced for the inevitable. The others were too far away to help him. This was it. He closed his eyes, thinking how angry Cathy was going to be when he didn't come back as he'd promised.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Sandrock came hurtling into him, knocking him out of harm's way. He seemed to be damaged, too, though. They both drifted back in the trajectory Quatre had propelled them on, but fetched up hard against-something really big that didn't appear to be there.

Behind them, a huge dark form decloaked out of nowhere. It was another Gundam: black, with huge metal "wings" and that wicked energy scythe. The pilot maneuvered even better than Quatre, and fought like the demon his suit resembled as he blasted forward and mowed through enemy suits with the scythe like they were made out of tissue paper.

"Duo! Hey, welcome back!" Quatre yelled over the com when it was all over and they rejoined Noin among the wreckage.

Duo. Duo Maxwell. The one with the braid, thought Trowa. Sure enough, a grinning face appeared on his monitor. He couldn't see much more than the eyes in that helmet, but they were smiling, just the way they had been that day he'd appeared out of nowhere at the circus.

"Kat! It is you! Who's that with you?"

Trowa opened his own channel, letting the other pilot see him. "Hello, Maxwell."

"Trowa Barton. Well I'll be damned! Never thought I'd see you again. Guess I just did you a pretty big favor, seeing that you're the guy who destroyed the original Deathscythe."

"What?" Trowa asked, puzzled again by the familiar way this stranger always spoke to him.

"Huh? You forgotten already?"

"I'll explain later," Quatre cut in. "Come back to the shuttle. I'm glad you showed up when you did. We needed a friend."

"Anything for you, Q-ball baby," Maxwell chuckled warmly as they headed in. "You guys were doing OK, but I'm glad you saved a few for me. The God of Death was getting bored, flying around out here with nothing to do!"

"I thought you were on L-2 with that girl, Hilde?"

"Yeah, well, things got kinda hot down there, with White Fang leaning on me to join 'em and all."

They landed in the shuttle bay and climbed from their suits. Maxwell immediately threw off his helmet and launched himself at Quatre, grabbing him in a tumbling zero-g hug that sent them spinning across the bay. "Hot damn, Kat, it's good to see you again!"

Trowa watched in confusion, and with a twinge of jealousy. Quatre looked equally happy to see this other boy.

"You OK, Trowa?" asked Noin, floating beside him, close enough to catch his expression.

Trowa retreated behind his long bangs, embarassed. "Yes, yes of course. Quatre says I know that guy, but I don't remember him."

Noin shrugged. "The only one I ever saw you with was Heero Yuy."

Quatre spoke a moment with Maxwell, and then they both propelled themselves over to join the others.

"So you got amnesia?" said Maxwell, shaking his head. "Shit, that's rough. But hey, here we are again. Allow me to reintroduce myself. Duo Maxwell, L-2 street rat, wiseass, and Gundam pilot extraordinaire. You don't remember it, but I fly circles around the rest of you lead assed-"

Quatre laughed and elbowed him into the railing. "Don't listen to him, Trowa. Duo's just got the biggest mouth of all of us."

"Yeah, but I never lie," Duo said, and it seemed to be something of a joke between them. "So, you got any chow on this boat? I'm starving!"

That didn't seem to be an exaggeration. He was taller than Quatre, but couldn't have weighed as much, skinny as he looked in the strange black clothes he was wearing when he joined them in the mess room. And he ate like a starving dog, shoveling in the food and chewing loudly with his mouth open, and talking with his mouth full. He paused halfway through a bread roll he was inhaling and caught Quatre laughing at him.

"Mmmph. 'orry," he mumbled, gulping down what he'd already bitten off and eating a bit more slowly after that. "Guess I've forgotten all those manners you tried to teach me, back at that ritzy schnitzy desert palace of yours."

"You were in Arabia, too?" Trowa asked. "Is that when I was there?"

"Naw, after," Duo replied. "But all Kat did was piss and moan about how much he missed--" He jerked suddenly, like someone had kicked him under the table, and then gave Quatre a wounded look. "What? All you talked about--" He trailed off, looking from Quatre to Trowa, then glanced around at Noin and the others at the long table. "OK. No, Tro, you weren't there. The three of us have actually never been in the same room together, before now. I think the only time the five of us were ever in the same place was at New Edwards, and then we were all in our Gundams. Guess you don't remember hanging out with Heero, after that, either, huh?"

There was something odd about the way he asked that Trowa couldn't quite read. "No. Quatre explained to me what happened, but I don't remember it."

Duo nodded slowly. "I met up with you guys as a POW later on. You were undercover, posing as an Ozzy. Ring any bells?"

"No, nothing. I was with OZ?"

"No, but you were pretty damn convincing," Duo said with a wiseass grin. "Just ask Wuffie the next time you run into him. If he takes a swing at you, you have it coming, believe me."

"Will you stick with us now?" asked Noin, who looked as confused by all this as Trowa was.

"Sure, if you want me. I kinda burned my bridges back on L-2 when I told White Fang to take a hike. And I was attracting too much heat toward Hilde, too. She's safer with me out here."

Quatre gave him in odd look. "So, you two are--close?"

"Friends, Kat. Just friends." He gave Trowa and Quatre another of those strange, appraising looks and shook his head. "Just friends, me and Hilde."

When they had eaten, or rather, after Duo had cleaned up every scrap on the table, Quatre took him and Trowa back to his cabin. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Duo gave them both a huge grin and shook his head. "So, you two are finally doing the horizontal tango, huh?"

Quatre turned an incredible shade of pink and stared down at his feet. Trowa folded his arms and gave Duo a hard stare. He didn't like anyone seeing so much without being told.

Duo's grin only widened. "Hey, you should be down on your knees, thanking me, buddy. I taught your boyfriend a thing or two after you--"

That was as far as he got before Trowa shut him up with a hard right cross to the jaw. Duo went down hard and Quatre leaped between them, grabbing Trowa's arm to stop him. "What are you doing, Trowa? Duo's our friend!"

"What did he mean, he taught you?" Trowa growled, jealousy in full control now.

"No, not like that, you one-eyed moron!" Duo sputtered, rubbing his jaw. "Nice swing, by the way. No, I just clued little Mr. Innocent here in on a few things-to your benefit, I might add, judging by this jealous act of yours. He had all these screwed up ideas about guys being together being wrong. Looks like he's gotten over that."

"Not completely," Trowa mumbled.

"We're--well--" Quatre broke off, blushing again.

"Oh, I get it. Still on the q.t.? That why you tried to break my ankle back there in the mess?"

"He has his reasons," Trowa said, instinctively coming to Quatre's defense.

"S'ok, Trowa. I understand where he's coming from. I saw it first hand," Duo assured him. "No need to beat me up anymore. I'm not gonna say anything."

"I'm going to go get you some ice for that bruise. I don't like the way it's swelling," Quatre said.

"Your boyfriend's got some arm on him," Duo said breezily.

"Can I trust you two not to kill each other while I'm gone?"

"Hey, we're chilly, Q-ball. Right, 03? No worries."

"We'll be fine," Trowa said, still feeling very off balance.

Quatre went out, leaving the two of them alone. Trowa leaned on the wall by the door. Duo settled crossed legged on the bed and started twirling the end of his braid. He had amazing hair. It wasn't really clean, and neither was Duo, judging by the funk that was slowly pervading the small cabin, but it was thick and a pretty chestnut brown, and the length was unlike anything Trowa had ever seen on a boy.

"So, you don't remember me at all?" Duo asked, startling him from his thoughts.

"No. I'm sorry."

Duo shrugged. "Not your fault. I--uh, that is--" Now he looked uncomfortable and was having trouble meeting Trowa's eye. "Well, in case you don't get your memory back, I just want you to know that you really helped me out, when I was jammed up in that OZ base. Some of the guards roughed me up real bad. You made them stop, and made sure it didn't happen again. You coulda blown your cover, helping me. I think they knew who you were and weren't entirely sure you'd really changed your ways, but you did it anyway, so, like--thanks, ya know? I'll never forget that."

"You're welcome." There was more to the story than Duo was telling him. He could see it in the other boy's uncomfortable body language. He was really fidgeting with that braid, twisting it in his hands where it lay in his lap. Something about the sight of that seemed strangely familiar. "I'm sorry I don't remember you, Duo. I don't remember Quatre, either, not really, but I have feelings for him that feel like memories."

Duo's discomfort vanished and he gave Trowa what he realized was the first genuine smile since they'd met. "That's good. That's real good! He's really hung up on you, ya know. Back on that base? I thought for a while you really had gone over to the other side, and that would have really hurt him. I was pretty pissed off at you, until you did me another solid that helped me and Wu escape. But I gotta warn you, I'm Kat's unofficial big brother. You hurt him and you answer to the God of Death, and you just saw me fight out there."

"And I just knocked you on your ass," Trowa reminded him, but he was smiling. Something had clicked as Duo talked. It wasn't memory, but a feeling. "So what was that about 'Wuffie' taking a swing at me? I'd like to at least know why, and who."

"Wuffie? Wufei?" Duo waited for some sign of recognition.

"Chang Wufei? The L-5 pilot? Quatre showed me a picture. Chinese guy, slicked back hair, doesn't smile much?"

"That's our Wuffie. He was captured at that base, too, and you sorta--well, you had to rough him up and make it look convincing. He was pretty banged up." Duo grinned and rubbed at the bruise darkening on his face. "You haven't lost your touch, I guess. But you were just keeping your cover, and I think he was OK with it, especially after you helped us out."

"I see." Trowa wondered how many other people were going to pop up from his forgotten past. "Quatre and I--before, I mean. Were we? Did we--?" He was blushing now. "We weren't actually--together before, were we?"

"Not for lack of him wanting you, buddy," Duo assured him. "I don't think you two ever had much time together, and he was pretty damn clueless about stuff, if you know what I mean. But he really had it bad for you, and he looks really happy now. I mean it, I'm really glad for you."

"I am, too." Except for the whole secrecy thing, he added silently.

Quatre came back laden with blankets, pillow, and an ice bag. "There aren't any more bunks, Duo, so you can have Trowa's cabin and he can stay in here with me. I'll sleep on the floor."

"Sure you will," Duo said with a smirk, making Quatre blush again. He stood up and stretched, stifling a yawn. "It's OK, I can take a hint. You don't have to drop a Gundam on me. Thanks for the ice, Q-ball. I'd kiss you good night, but your friend here would deck me for sure."

"No, he won't," Quatre assured him.

"Yeah? OK then." Duo grabbed Quatre in a bear hug and kissed him soundly on the side of the head, then shot Trowa look of mock fear. "That's it, just a kiss!"

Trowa couldn't help but grin back. He suspected Duo was a hard person to stay mad at.

Duo released Quatre and stuck out his hand. "Seriously, Trowa, it's damn good to have you back in one piece. Well, except for some of your marbles, but those'll probably turn up, right?" He headed for the door, but paused there and waggled a finger at them. "Now you guys keep it down in here. Shinigami needs some sleep!"

"How many names does that guy have?" Trowa wondered. He waited until the door slid shut again, then grabbed Quatre and kissed him. He kissed back, but then, freed himself and knelt to spread blankets on the floor as if he really meant to sleep there, instead of with Trowa in the bunk.

"What are you doing?"

Quatre patted the pillow into place. "Noin's still next door. The bunk is right up against her wall. I can't believe she didn't hear us, that first night!"

"We could go down to the bay."

"Duo's likely to show up there, checking on Deathscythe."

This was too much. Trowa knelt beside him and grabbed Quatre in a firm hug. "We can be quiet. I want to love you lying down, not all wound up in that damn seat! Please?" When Quatre remained stiff and silent in his arms he licked slowly up his neck from collar to earlobe, and then put his lips lightly against his ear and whispered huskily, "Please, meli!"

Quatre shivered and melted against him. "I don't know--"

It was a weak protest at best, and Trowa seized the advantage, gently lowering him to the blankets and kissing his throat. "We'll stay here, on the floor away from the wall," he whispered, already unbuttoning Quatre's shirt and pushing it and his vest off his shoulder to expose the sensitive spot where his neck and shoulder met. "We'll be quiet, won't we?" He licked there, swirling his tongue and Quatre gasped and arched up against him, stifling a moan.

Knowing he'd won already, Trowa stripped away Quatre's clothing and his own. At last he could lie beside him and touch him everywhere, with no armrests or jutting control panels in the way. He took full advantage of the situation, kissing and licking Quatre everywhere, tasting and smelling him, finding new ticklish spots and erogenous zones. He didn't forget his earlier discovery, either. When Quatre was flushed and quivering and biting his lip to keep quiet, Trowa licked and sucked at one of his nipples and slid a spit-slicked finger between his ass cheeks, finding that sensitive little opening again and gently caressing it. Quatre went silently wild under him, spreading his legs and grasping at Trowa's hair and shoulder. The look on his face was sex incarnate.

Trowa rubbed a little harder, making circles around that tight opening. Quatre's cock and his own were at full attention. Sliding down a little further, he took Quatre's cock in his mouth and sucked it as he massaged his anus. Quatre had both hands in Trowa's hair now, clutching handfuls of it and pulling almost painfully. The more Trowa rubbed at that little hidden pleasure button of his, the wilder he got. Trowa paused just long enough to wet his finger again, then deep throated Quatre at the same time he pressed his fingertip inside him. Quatre froze against him, utterly motionless, and Trowa was afraid he'd gone too far, but then Quatre hissed out, "Oooooooooh yessssssssss!" and began to gyrate those slim little hips under him, alternately thrusting his cock deeper into Trowa's mouth and impaling himself more deeply on Trowa's questing finger.

Quatre was even hotter inside, and though the spit was far from enough lubrication to let Trowa do much, the skin inside was smooth and delicate, and rippling with strong muscle.

Quatre let out a tiny, high-pitched whine, then wrapped his legs around Trowa's neck and came hard and long, still pumping on his finger.

When he went limp at last Trowa slid up and took him in his arms, his own heart racing with excitement. "That was so hot, meli! You liked that, didn't you?"

"Loved it!" Quatre replied in a panting whisper. "You--you didn't mind?"

"Why would I mind?"

Quatre buried his face against his chest. "Well, it's--It's not--"

"Normal?" Trowa asked softly.

"Clean!" Quatre squeaked.

"Seemed fine to me," Trowa chuckled. "Next time you can take a shower first, if it makes you feel better. Then I can do even more!"

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don' know. Kiss you there? Lick you?"

"Ick!" Quatre was almost giggling now.

"But it's OK to suck cock?" Trowa teased. "I don't find that icky at all, and neither do you."

Quatre considered this and shrugged. "You're right about that." He shimmied out of Trowa's arms and proceeded to give him a blowjob to drive the point home.

Quatre's touch was enough to excite Trowa no end, but since they'd been doing this, he'd gotten better and better at giving pleasure. He gave without hesitation, and perhaps he was using his empathy to read Trowa's reactions, but he seemed to know instinctively what to do to drive him wild with desire and bring him off in shattering orgasms.

At one point now, when Trowa was trembling on the edge of coming, he felt a hand move tentatively up the back of his thigh. He caught it and brought it up for a kiss. Quatre got the message and didn't' try to touch his ass again. Trowa was too lost in sensation to question his instinctive aversion to it. It didn't matter. Everything else felt so fucking good!

They held each other close afterwards, caressing and kissing and trading the flavors of each other's cum on their tongues until they were hard again, and then sixty-nined their way back to heaven again. Trowa pulled Quatre back into his arms again afterwards and held him close.

"This is how it should be afterwards, meli, not with us sneaking off to sleep alone."

"I know," Quatre sighed. "Someday, we'll figure out a way, I promise. You should probably take the bed now."

Trowa tightened his arms around him. "No. The door's locked and no one's going to come barging in. Stay with me, Quatre. Please. I need you close to me."

"All right, I'll stay." Quatre cuddled closer, wrapping an arm around Trowa's chest and nestling his head under Trowa's chin. His hair was soft and warm against Trowa's skin, and the heat of his body warmed him all the way through. The cold darkness couldn't touch him as along as Quatre was in his arms.

"This is good."

"Yes, it is." Quatre rubbed his fingers gently over Trowa chest where his heart was still pounding hard. "It's not that I don't want to be like this all the time. I do, every night--"

"Shhh. I know, meli. Just be here with me now, all right?"

"I am. I love you, Trowa."

"I love you, too."

The floor was hard and there was only one pillow, but Trowa didn't care. He was floating on euphoria and went to sleep with no sadness that night. For one night, at least, things were perfect and he didn't care if his memory ever came back.


Duo sat on his narrow bed, chewing at the end of his braid. He was exhausted, but he had no desire to sleep.

After the battle with the Ozzys, there hadn't been much choice but to hole up here in the remains of the destroyed resource satellite. The repair bays were pretty totaled, but there were still food and air supplies enough to support the shuttle for few weeks, while they figured out that they wanted to do.

Duo kept busy helping out, working hard and eating every chance he got. When there was nothing else to do, he snuck off to 'scythe and smoked some weed to take the edge off, or took a little THC-38. He'd started that back on L-2 while he was living with Hilde. It was easier to score that than aspirin there. Hilde had been pissed when she caught him, but he could handle it.

Even with drugs though, Shinigami didn't sleep so good these days. There were way too many dark places his dreams could take him-- Heero. The massacre. New Edwards. Heero. Heero in Finland. And of course, that interrogation room on the moon base. And naturally, his soul being what it was, Trowa never showed up and things happened that he had tried very hard to forget. // didn't happen, didn't happen, didn't, didn't, didn't //

No, none of these dreams ended well, even the ones with Heero. Especially those ones. Those started off all hot and heavy, with him right where he'd thought he wanted to be, in some bed with Heero Yuy, but he always flamed out, like he did that day, and fucked it all up, driving Heero away. He really hated those dreams, especially since the first part of them was so sweet. They taunted him with a heaven he could never have. But that was just the way it was, in his life. Get to close to anyone and he got them hurt or drove them away.

He wouldn't let that happen again.

So he caught catnaps during the day cycle, hung close to Kat and Tro as much as he could, comforted by their presence, and did his best not to be eaten up by jealousy when he heard the sounds from their cabin at night.

They might think they were keeping a big secret, and Noin and the others of the small crew did seem clueless, but as far as Duo was concerned, they might just as well have written "I'm getting laid" across their foreheads in big red letters.

He and Kat ended up alone one day, scrounging for ammo. Checking to make sure his helmet con was on a closed channel, he turned to Quatre and grinned. "So? How is he?" Even through the helmet's visor, he could see his friend blush. "That good, huh?"

"I never guessed it would be like this," Quatre managed at last. "You were right. It feels good!"

"'It'?" Duo teased. "Are you holding out on me, Q-ball? Details. I want details."

"Duo!" Quatre gave him a wide-eyed look. After a moment he grinned back, though. "His--umm---"


"Yeah. It's really big!"


"No! We're not--He doesn't--"

"He's not doing you?"

"No! But--well he does a lot of other things." Quatre was blushing again, but his smile said it all. "We both do."

Duo wanted to be happy for them, but deep down, he was a little sad, knowing that his innocent little friend was probably a whole lot more experienced that he was at this point. At least if the night noises were anything to go by.

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