Author: pyrzm
see chap. 1 for warnings, notes, disclaimer

Lost Souls + Chapter 41

Work. Eat. Sleep.

Work. Eat. Sleep.

Apart from the sleeping part, it was a good system and Trowa found that the pills helped most nights. But the work was good. Damn good. He'd always loved acrobatics, and flying on the trapeze and working with the aerial silks satisfied his creative soul like nothing except flying Heavyarms ever had. And it didn't hurt that he was fucking good at it. He already knew how to throw his body through flips, twists, and turns, defying gravity with impunity. When he was flying, he just had to learn to trust someone to catch him on the other side. Jose, his teacher and the catcher, was strong and dependable.

But the silks Tisha was teaching him were even better, because they let him work alone. Everyone had been a little surprised when he'd asked her to teach him; silk aerialists were usually women. But there was nothing feminine in the way he moved, climbing, twisting, falling. He was still working low to the ground and falling a lot, but the skill was coming along. His goal was to perform on the L-4 tour, six months from now.


He was on the silks, naked from the waist up, working on a straddle swing climb when he felt someone watching him. He leaned back, grabbed the pole--the taut fabric above his head-- with both hands, and rotated his hips into the fabric to raise his free leg and hook it around the fabric. Releasing with his hands, he went into the crucifix knee hook and didn't slip this time.

"Nice!" It was Hank watching him. Hank was one of the rowdies, the men and women who did all the set up, repairs, and made sure the safety equipment was in good working order. They were integral, and unseen by the public.

Hank was tall and lanky like Trowa, and they'd hooked up a couple of times when he was hiding out here during the war. They hadn't since he'd come back, but not for lack of Hank hanging around and giving him come on looks every now and then.

Returning to a single foot lock, Trowa split the fabrics. His arm muscles bunched and flexed as he parted them and brought his free leg and hips in between the two strips, then slid both hands high and leaned forward, letting his hands slide down slightly as he leaned further forward into an arched pose.

He flowed through a few more moves, but Hank was distracting him. Twisting his body into the tails, he let himself drop, spinning to the ground.

Hank tossed him a towel. "Damn, you're really getting the hang of that."

Trowa wiped his neck and chest. "Thanks."

"You worked through supper again, you know."

Trowa glanced over at the illuminated clock on the far wall of the training barn. It was nearly eight. "Guess I did."

"How 'bout I buy you a decent meal? You're showing a lot of rib."

"I'm OK."

Hank came closer, not quite invading his personal space. "How you doing, Tro? You and I haven't gotten together since you got back, and word is you haven't been with anyone else either."

Trowa's expression went hard and guarded. "What's it to you?"

Hank backed off a little. "Take it easy, bro. It's just not like you, that's all."

Trowa began stripping off the tape that wrapped his wrists and hands. "Yeah? Well, people change."

"You gotta be such a shit about it?"

It was said without rancor but it got Trowa's attention. "What are you talking about?"

"You, bro. You've had a stick up your ass ever since you came back and I'm not the only one who thinks so."

Trowa threw the used tape into the trash can by the chalk stand and looked up at him. Hank just looked concerned. "Sorry, bro. I didn't realize. It's been an adjustment."

"We know. Those trailer walls are kinda thin. People have heard you yelling in your sleep."

Trowa combed his fingers back through his hair. "Damn."

"Don't sweat it. You think we forgot you getting blown away that time? Or the way you saved us on that colony? There's nothing but love for you here, bro. Don't you forget that. So, you gonna let me feed you or what?"


Trowa knew he was depressed, but working was the way he coped. So his heart had shriveled up again; it was easier this way and as long as he could work, he was OK. When he wasn't on the bar or silks, he was researching and jotting down notes and inspirations. Cathy wanted him to take a more active role in the circus.

Hank was right about him not hooking up with anyone; apart from the occasional date with his own right hand, sex was a nonissue. He didn't dwell too much on why that was. Alone in his big bed, he read, jerked off now and then, said good night to the picture on the wall, took his pill, and tried to get through the night.

And he must have been being a real bastard, because once Hank mentioned it and he started making an effort over the next few days, people really came through for him, as if they'd just been waiting for him. Maybe they had been. He got invited to poker games with the rowdies, ate supper with Cathy, and played chess with Hector, the strong man. Nadia, the fixed trapeze artiste, made it clear that he was welcome in her trailer, and in her bed if he wanted that, and so did Mikal and Boris, the balancing act twins who'd joined them in January. But Trowa couldn't seem to work up the energy for that. It all went into the work.

A week later, everything changed. He opened the paper one evening after a long day and saw pictures of Duo and Quatre out clubbing. They both looked so happy. They'd moved on. The pain he'd held at bay for a little while came flooding back, twisting his gut and closing like a fist around his heart. Quatre and Duo? Had they paired up? It sure looked like it, and the article hinted as much. He sat there for a long time, staring down at those pictures. Anger, betrayal, jealousy, sorrow, regret: he couldn't tell which emotion was the strongest. Deep down, there was some abandonment, too, even though he knew he was the one who'd walked away.

'He pushed me away, too,' he thought, folding up the paper and hurling it at the trashcan by the fridge.


As he showered and pulled on the black leather jeans he'd bought on a whim and a tight black tee that showed off the lean muscle of his chest, belly and arms, he thought of Hank and the twins but quickly discarded that idea. He cared about them. That's not what he needed tonight.

He took the bus to Revolution Avenue and cruised his way around the clubs, dancing, drinking, allowing strangers to flirt with him until the right one came along. Everyone knew who he was. Plenty of older guys gave him the eye and a few made a stronger play but Trowa wasn't interested. Not his type. In the old days it hadn't mattered; Trowa Barton would jerk or blow just about anyone so long as they were reasonably clean. He wasn't that person anymore.

He was sitting at the bar in some club he hadn't even noticed the name of, swaying a little to the driving music and nursing a beer, when a young red head with eyes as green as his own caught his attention. He was sitting at the far end of the bar and Trowa caught him looking his way a couple of times. From what Trowa could see from here, he was good looking, with a pretty, cocksucker mouth. Trowa's cock began to stir to life. He waited a moment for the guy to come to him, and when he turned shy, Trowa picked up his beer and went to him.

The kid turned around on his stool and gave him a smile. "Hey."

"Hey." Trowa finished off his beer, never taking his eyes of the guy. "I'm Trowa."

"Yeah, I know. I'm Sid. I didn't know you were gay."

"Now you do. Want to dance, Sid?"

They danced for quite a while, and Trowa actually started to enjoy it. Sid was good, and was soon writhing and bumping against him. When Trowa moved behind him and slid his hands down the other boy's sides to hold him by his swaying hips, Sid pressed his ass back against the rod in Trowa's leather pants and rubbed against him in a very promising way. Trowa slid his hands forward and down; Sid was well endowed and hard a rock.

Sid ground his ass against Trowa's cock one more time, then took him by the hand and led him to a warren of dark cubicles at the back. Sighs, moans and groans came from all sides and Trowa caught glimpses of flesh moving against flesh through open doors.

Sid pulled him into an empty cubicle and kicked the door shut, then ran his hands up under Trowa's tight shirt to circle his hard nipples. "You want me, Gundam Boy? I'm all yours."

Trowa gave him a humorless smirk as he reached for Sid's belt and got his pants open and his cock out. It was a nice size and he had a piercing ring in the head, down through the slit at the tip. He'd never seen one before. He took Sid's cock in hand and flicked the ring lightly with his thumb. Sid caught his breath and shivered.

"You like that, huh," Trowa murmured, doing it again. He couldn't imagine letting anyone punch a hole in such a delicate part of his anatomy, but it was kind of sexy on Sid. As he stroked him Sid got Trowa's pants open and returned the favor.

"Christ, you're huge!" he whispered, sliding his hand down Trowa's cock.

"That a problem?"

"Hell, no! I want to suck it."

Trowa fished condom out of his back pocket and handed it to him. Sid got it on him and knelt down. He grinned up at Trowa for a moment. "Man, I can't believe this!"

Trowa couldn't help smiling back. He appreciated the enthusiasm, if not the hero worship. Sid went down on Trowa with the same enthusiasm, taking him as far down his throat as he could. The guy seemed to have no gag reflex at all. He was good, but not great.

'Not as good as Quatre--'

Trowa pushed that thought away and grabbed Sid's head, holding him still while he fucked his mouth. Sid moaned happily, working his tongue against Trowa's head and shaft. Just when it was really starting to get good, however, Sid stood up and leaned against him. Trowa thought for a moment he was trying to kiss him and instinctively pulled back, but Sid just whispered, "I sure would love to feel that bad boy up my ass."

"Can you take it?"

"Try me, Gundam Boy."

Sid had the lube--it hadn't occurred to Trowa to buy any. Sid pulled his jeans down around his knees, then prepared them both, making it a sensuous experience, stroking Trowa's cock and bending forward against the wall so Trowa could watch him push three lubed fingers into his ass. As soon as he pulled them out Trowa moved in, wrapping one arm around his waist and guiding the head of his cock to Sid's opening. He could tell he wasn't Sid's first; big as his erection was, his head popped through the outer ring of muscle without Sid flinching and slid deep into Sid's hot, tight ass with relative ease. Balls deep, he went still as sensation threatened to overwhelm him.

"So good!"

"Get's better when you pound my ass," Sid told him over his shoulder.

That's all Trowa needed to hear. Withdrawing almost all the way out, he slid in again slowly, then did it over and over, faster and faster, until he was slamming into that hot, fantastic tightness so hard they were shaking the cubicle wall.

"Oh fuck!" Sid cried out. "Oh my fucking god!"

Trowa was so lost in the experience that it was a surprise when Sid moaned out, "Hey, how about a reach around?"

"Sorry!" Trowa mumbled, embarrassed. Taking Sid's hot, weeping cock in hand, he jerked him off, making sure to give that ring some attention on every upstroke. Sid came hard, splattering the wall in front of them and driving himself back onto Trowa's cock. That was enough to push Trowa over the edge and he came so hard his knees went weak and he had to brace his hands on the wall on either side of Sid's shoulders for a minute to get his head clear.

"Holy fuck!" he groaned as his softening cock slipped from that heat and pleasure. He took off the condom with shaking fingers, knotted it and tossed it in the wastebasket provided. There was a box of clean wipes on a shelf, too. Classy place.

"Good, huh?" asked Sid with a grin. He already had his pants up and zipped.

"Yeah! Thanks!"

Sid laughed. "You, too. Take it easy, Gundam Boy." And he left, leaving Trowa there, leaning against the wall with his pants around his hips and his dick hanging out. He got his pants closed and went home.


He stood in the shower for a long time, washing off Sid's smell, then dried off and put on a pair of fresh sweat pants. Leaving the tiny bathroom, he crawled across the brightly colored bedspread to sit on the edge of the bed, as he did every night. He looked at the photo of the five of them for a moment, then took it down and stuck it in the back of a dresser drawer.

[ch. 40] [ch. 42] [back to Pyrzm's fic]