Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ At Your Side ❯ One ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

At Your Side

By Anne Olsen

Rating/warnings: NC 17, angst, romance, LEMON.

Pairings: 3x4

Author's notes: This fic is part of the 'Outlasting Time' arc, which is obviously being written way out of order *grins. For more information and to read the other stories in the series check out the following

http://www.angelfire.com/ab7/shadesandechoes/outlastingtime.ht ml

Summary: Six months after 'Counterpoint', Quatre and Trowa discover their long distance relationship isn't working.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys when I'm finished.

Thanks to: Raletha and Bast for beta reading, ideas, and listening to me ramble on. Also to Maureen and Windsor for their support and comments.

Feedback to: anneo@paradise.net.nz

********

When the daylight's gone, and you're on your own

And you need a friend, just to be around

I will comfort you, I will take your hand

And I'll pull you through, I will understand

And you know that…

I'll be at your side

There's no need to worry

Together, we'll survive

Through the haste and hurry

I'll be at your side, if you feel like you're alone

And you've nowhere to turn

I'll be at your side

If life's standing still, and your soul's confused

And you cannot find what road to choose

If you make mistakes

You can't let me down

I will still believe

I will turn around

And you know that

I'll be at your side

I'll be at your side

~The Corrs (At Your Side)

******

Chapter One

AC 196

Trowa knelt by the lion's cage, the rough ground under his knees digging into the lightweight but sturdy fabric of his jeans. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to re-acquaint himself with the familiar sounds and smells of the circus he called home.

He took several deep breaths; the sawdust and greasepaint intertwined so perfectly that it was hard to tell where one left off and the other began. Low voices came from the direction of the makeshift stables as circus hands rubbed down the horses, the light breeze bringing with it the twin odours of sweat and manure. Trowa wrinkled his nose, even thought he was used to the reek; it wasn't a combination he enjoyed, particularly at close range. Eau de Stink, Catherine referred to it on occasion, eyes twinkling as she noted his reaction.

Nearby a group of children giggled while they played, darting between the trailers and the Big Top. Even though he was only a few years older, they had the luxury of the childhood he'd been denied. Trowa didn't regret his time with the mercenaries; they'd been good to him and provided him with the closest thing they could to a family. He'd never had the chance to just do the things these children took for granted. To them life was about having fun and playing games, but to him it had been about staying one step ahead of the enemy and ending the bloodshed between Earth and the Colonies.

The noise level rose until an angry female voice put a halt to the game, complaining that they'd woken her baby. One of the boys muttered an apology and the group moved away, heading towards the empty field alongside the main campsite.

Trowa's stomach growled, and he realised it must be later than he'd thought. The banging of pots and pans were soon followed by the familiar fragrance of herbs and spices as preparations began for the evening meal. Trowa allowed himself a small smile. Relaxing like this - something he didn't do often - it was almost possible to forget all he'd done in the name of peace and just enjoy the moment, the relative normality of his surroundings.

While he had the circus he could pretend that he had left that other side of him behind, looking forward instead to a future as Trowa Barton, not back to a past as Nanashi. It provided an inner sense of security in a way he couldn't explain. As much as he missed the confined space of Heavyarms' cockpit and the feel of the controls under his hands, he didn't regret his decision to return here after the war. His role as a soldier was, for now, in storage alongside the Gundam he'd fought in.

Sliding his fingers through the cage, Trowa rubbed the lion behind the ear, feeling the animal's rough fur under his hand. For all the danger the lion could represent when aroused, at present he was behaving for all intents and purposes like a household cat, rubbing his head against the bars and revelling in the attention Trowa was giving him. Trowa paused, watching the big cat carefully lift a languid paw. The animal rolled over, then rose to his feet, padding softly over to the far end of the cage, as he positioned himself in front of the water bowl. Within moments all that could be heard was the rhythmic lapping of the lion's tongue and the water sloshing against the metal container.

Trowa removed his hand from between the bars, sliding his palms down his jeans to remove the stray hair sticking to his fingers, pausing as he heard a soft footstep behind him. The lion's head came up to survey the newcomer, before he continued drinking. Whoever was here was obviously not considered a threat.

Shifting slightly, Trowa pulled himself upright into a protective stance, ready to confront the person if needed. Even now, months into peacetime, the inner soldier was never totally gone. He doubted he'd ever lose those instincts that had kept him alive for so many years.

"I envy those cats," Quatre's voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the wistful yearning in it.

"Quatre?" Trowa frowned; his lover was the last person he'd expected to see. They'd arranged to meet on L2 later that month, a time which suited them both. Quatre was going to leave the running of WE to one of his many sisters for a week and take a much needed hiatus while the circus took its half yearly break.

Quatre gave him a smile but there was a whisper of sadness in his eyes. Something had unsettled Quatre, even though he was trying his best to hide it. Pretending, where his emotions were concerned, was definitely not one of Quatre's strengths. Trowa sighed, running his hands over his trousers again to brush off the remainder of the sawdust left from where he'd been kneeling.

"Quatre?" he repeated, moving closer. "Is everything all right?"

Tears glistening in his eyes, Quatre shook his head. "I'm sorry, Trowa. I know this is going to sound stupid but I just had to see you." His next words came out in a jumble. "Most of the time what we've got is okay, but sometimes…sometimes I need more."

Trowa glanced around. At present there was no one to observe them, but shortly that would change as the circus hands began their systematic battening down for the coming evening. He moved closer to Quatre, putting his arms around him. Cathy was out and wouldn't be back until much later that night. It was time to continue this in private.

He trailed his lips across Quatre's forehead, knowing it would offer comfort; physical contact helped when Quatre's emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Trowa often wondered how his lover coped with the gift he'd been burdened with, one's own emotions were hard enough to control at times without the complication of feeling those around him. Quatre worried that it made him weak, but to Trowa it only confirmed his inner strength.

"Trowa?" Turquoise eyes met his, and he could see Quatre searching for the reassurance that what he'd said hadn't been met with a negative reaction.

Trowa nodded. Quatre needed to talk and he needed to listen. "We can go to my trailer," he suggested, his eyes lingering on his lover before pulling away. What had happened to cause this reaction? The last time they had spoken Quatre had been looking forward to his sister's wedding. Trowa couldn't remember which sister; he had difficulty keeping them straight in his mind, and he suspected Quatre did too. The Winner family might be large but they weren't close - even though Quatre preferred to live under the illusion they were. Quatre took his responsibilities as heir of the influential Winner family very seriously, and even though he'd offered to leave it all behind six months ago so that he and Trowa could be together, Trowa doubted he was capable of doing that in reality. His ties to his family were just as strong as Trowa's were to those he viewed as his own family - Cathy and the other members of the circus.

Climbing the steps to the trailer he shared with Cathy, Trowa stood back to allow Quatre to enter first. "Would you like a drink?" Trowa asked. "Tea, coffee, or water?" He opened the fridge and peered inside. "I think Cathy's run out of juice."

Quatre gave him a forced grin. "From what I've heard of the coffee, it might be safer to stick to tea. Thanks." Quatre leaned against the small bench, and Trowa observed him carefully while he busied himself making their drinks. The casual outfit the blond wore suited him. The navy shirt, with the sleeves half rolled up, highlighted his eyes, and contrasted his pale complexion. The usual khakis he favoured had been replaced by a close fitting pair of black jeans, accentuating his slender yet well-muscled physique.

Moving closer to take the large mug from Trowa, Quatre's fingers brushed over the brunet's, and Trowa swallowed, feeling his body react to the close proximity of the other boy. Quatre needed to talk - they could make up for the time they'd been apart later. Trowa indicated the small sofa on the other side of the room; it would be more comfortable; but Quatre didn't move. Instead he thanked Trowa for the tea, and stood for a few minutes, concentrating on sipping the hot liquid and glancing around the small trailer. Trowa seated himself on the bench, and waited for Quatre to speak, knowing he would when he was ready.

Finally Quatre placed his half empty cup on the bench, and spoke, his voice hesitant. "It's the little things I miss," he said. "Like being able to share a simple cup of tea. It might seem like nothing, but sometimes I sit at night and wonder what you're doing, and wish…" He paused, before continuing. "I love the time we have together, but lately if feels as though we spend more time planning how we're going to spend these moments than we do experiencing them."

Sometimes I sit outside this trailer, staring at the stars, imagining you doing the same thing. Except I know you can't see the stars from the colonies.

Trowa pushed himself off the bench, so that he was standing next to Quatre. He placed one arm around him and gently kissed him on the cheek. "It's okay, sometimes I feel like that too." Trowa moved his free hand to rub Quatre's back in a comforting motion, and the blond sighed, returning the kiss.

"I wasn't going to come. But Ghazal's wedding," Quatre's voice hitched. "It was a beautiful ceremony. I wasn't the only one crying, all the emotion there - I could feel it cascading through me. Trying to block it out would have been like trying to swim upstream through a waterfall." He reached out to run his hand through Trowa's hair and smiled sadly. "I was fine at first. I just let myself enjoy it, but then…but then I needed someone to share it with. I needed you there to share it with me, Trowa."

Pulling Quatre closer, Trowa kissed him again, this time on the forehead. I wish I could have been there… I'm here for you now. Trowa struggled to find the right words, but even those he eventually spoke somehow seemed inadequate. "Share it with me now."

Tilting his head, Quatre brushed his own lips tentatively against Trowa's, while his hand gently cupped the other boy's cheek. "I've missed you," he whispered, before tracing a line from Trowa's mouth down to his jawline with his tongue. His fingers strengthened their grasp, pulling Trowa's head so that their eyes met. "Hold me, Trowa. I need to feel you."

"I've missed you too," Trowa whispered, loosening Quatre's belt slightly to enable him to pull the fabric of his shirt from his trousers more easily. He slipped his hand between Quatre's shirt and his bare back, his fingers moving in a slow dance until they came to rest on the blond's shoulder blades. At the same time he pulled Quatre towards him, capturing his mouth in a lingering kiss.

Quatre's lips parted, his tongue slipping into Trowa's mouth, his hand moving from Trowa's cheek to behind his head, pulling them still closer. Trowa leaned into the kiss, but then broke it, placing one finger on Quatre's lips. "Please, let me."

"Show me," Quatre whispered. "Help me feel you." His eyes glazed over momentarily, then he smiled, running his tongue over moistened lips before sucking the tip of Trowa's finger. "I need you to feel me," he mumbled, his mouth still around the finger.

I do feel you, Cat. I feel a part of you inside me…always. The bond they shared was so much more than physical; especially when they were together, like this. Often it was as though their awareness of each other heightened until their emotions ran together like two melody lines intertwining to momentarily become one.

Pulling his finger away slowly, Trowa gave Quatre a small grin at the small popping sound it made as it slid from the other boy's mouth. He then used that finger to duplicate the trail across Quatre's jawline that had been traced on his own moments before. Except he didn't stop where Quatre had, he continued downwards, pausing at the top button of Quatre's shirt.

Quatre brought his own hand up, but Trowa shook his head. "Let me," he repeated, his fingers quickly undoing the offending barrier, working their way down the front of Quatre's shirt. He followed the opening of each button with his mouth, kissing the newly exposed skin, lingering on Quatre's navel before pulling the shirt away from his chest completely, allowing it to drape across the blond's shoulders.

The soft material slid off his back to drift slowly towards the floor, as Quatre moved his body, twisting it to divest himself of the piece of clothing. "It's getting hot in here, don't you think?" Grinning, he moved to grip the bottom of Trowa's t-shirt and pull it over his head. "Much better," he breathed, his eyes growing darker with undisguised passion.

"Much better," Trowa agreed, allowing his eyes to wander appreciatively over Quatre's newly bared upper body. Loosened trousers, hung on slender hips, displayed the flat but well muscled abdomen, belying the strength of his slim build. Trowa reached over and ran a hand over Quatre's chest, marvelling not for the first time the firm smooth skin under his fingertips. Even the two small scars, the newer one in particular a reminder of how close he'd come to losing Quatre, did nothing to mar the picture of perfection in front of him. Quatre's colouring often reminded Trowa of the golden sands of the desert - but to Trowa he was an oasis of both inner and physical beauty. His gaze moved upwards, taking in the small smile playing on Quatre's lips, before losing himself in an ocean of turquoise reflecting the depths of his lover's soul.

Bending to kiss the scar on Quatre's side, Trowa stroked it slowly with his tongue; worshipping the smooth surface with his mouth. Quatre hissed in pleasure, his hands gripping Trowa's hair, as his breathing grew faster. Even though the area was well healed, it was still extremely sensitive. Hang on, Quatre, I'm coming. Trowa still remembered the fear he'd felt on Libra, knowing Quatre was in trouble and hoping he'd get there in time. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.

His mouth moving lower, Trowa's tongue slipped into a perfect navel, then he used his fingers to loosen Quatre's belt further. He paused, running his fingers teasingly over his lover's prominent erection, before struggling with the first button of the fly on Quatre's trousers. Quatre gave a small whimper of frustration, his own hands shifting to help, but Trowa stopped him. "Good things come to those who wait," he grinned.

"Tease," Quatre muttered under his breath, twining his fingers through Trowa's hair, gripping it suddenly with a sharp intake of breath as Trowa slipped one hand inside Quatre's trousers while the other unfastened first one button then the next with deliberate slowness. The sheer silk of the thin burgundy boxers clung firmly to his lover's erection, and Trowa gently ran his fingers down the hardening length, starting with his index finger until he'd reached the tip, then repeating the action slowly.

Quatre let out a moan of frustration. "Now I know how you must feel when I'm trying to get you out of those tight jeans," he complained. "Next time I'm sticking to my khakis."

"Oh I don't know. I rather like the idea of 'unsticking' you from these." Trowa licked his lips slowly, in anticipation, and Quatre let out another moan.

"Trowa…"

Chuckling, Trowa's fingers paused on the last button before he slid both hands to grip Quatre's buttocks. Quatre arched towards Trowa, his hands brushing against the other boy's as he helped him slide the trousers down over his hips. The boxers were damp with perspiration, the soft material draped against Quatre's arousal acting more as an enticement than as a barrier to what Trowa knew they both wanted.

Quickly undoing Quatre's shoes, Trowa divested him of his socks, before bringing his hands up again and running them around Quatre's waist, caressing the bare skin under the elastic waistband firmly in a semi-circular motion, coming to rest in the small of his lover's back. Quatre groaned, his own hands moving to the buckle around Trowa's waist, but Trowa shook his head. "Let me," he repeated. "I'm here for you now, Cat. Please. I need to show you, to let you feel me."

Eyes glazing as he dropped his hands to his side, Quatre gave Trowa a small feral smile. "I can feel you, Trowa, but I'd very much like to feel you more."

Dropping to his knees, Trowa edged Quatre's boxers down slowly, inch by inch, kissing each newly exposed piece of skin as he went. Quatre shivered, and Trowa felt an echo of his lover's frustration ripple through him. "Patience, my love," he whispered, as the boxers finally reached the floor, in a crimson puddle of sheerness at Quatre's feet.

He sat back on his heels, taking a moment to gaze in awe at the beauty of the other boy in front of him. Soft golden curls nested Quatre's erection, which was standing to attention and twitching slightly as he blushed. Trowa smiled at him, his eyes continuing their journey of appreciation over the lean and perfectly portioned lower body of his lover.

"Just beautiful," he murmured. Being with Quatre, like this - it always made him feel as though in some way he'd come home, that he'd found that missing part he could no longer live without. Quatre was right; being apart was becoming harder. It hurt not being able to be there when Quatre needed him. If only their situation were different. Trowa sighed. If only love were all that mattered; but reality wasn't like that, however much they both wished it were.

"Trowa?" Quatre's tenor cut across his thoughts, his brow creasing into a frown. He moved closer to Trowa, bending to caress his cheek gently, before placing a light kiss on the other boy's lips.

I'm sorry, Cat. This is supposed to be about you and your needs. Trowa pushed the thoughts from his mind, concentrating instead on the touch of Quatre's skin, the essence of his lover's soul reaching out to touch his own. He breathed deeply a few times, his melancholy fading against the intensity that was Quatre's own love of life, his passion and fire.

"I'm okay," Trowa paused, pulling away from the kiss almost reluctantly to give his reply. "I've missed you, Cat." More than you realise. He pressed his lips against Quatre's again, both of them rising into a standing position, the friction of their bare upper bodies touching, their hands exploring, stroking, caressing, while their tongues danced together in a familiar exploration of each other's mouths.

"I still think it's hot in here," Quatre's fingers edged towards his belt again, as Trowa felt himself calm, and this time he didn't protest. The belt buckle parted easily, the zipper on his trousers unfastening quickly, to allow Quatre easy access. Quatre gazed up at him, and slowly licked his lips, giving Trowa a taste of the teasing he'd subjected the other boy to few moments before. His lover took a step back, and smiled appreciatively. "Beautiful," he whispered, almost to himself, echoing the sentiment Trowa had expressed previously.

A loud crash suddenly cut through the momentary near silence, and Quatre jumped. A storm must be coming, Trowa reasoned, realising the reason behind the loud banging, as the wooden shutters on the small trailer slammed against the windows, the wind catching the loose corners he'd promised to secure but hadn't yet. Even though the circus had only been back on Earth for a short time, it hadn't taken him long to readjust to the weather patterns for the area they were camped in. Quatre glanced around nervously; coming from L4, he wasn't as used to the wind having its own personality as Trowa was.

Gesturing towards the door at the rear of the small kitchen, Trowa gave Quatre a small smile. "It's only the wind, but…" He held out his hand towards the other boy, "maybe we should continue this somewhere else." In case someone decided to come by and check everything was battened down for the storm, it would be better to be a bit more discreet.

Returning the smile, and linking one hand through Trowa's, Quatre sidled closer, bending to run his tongue around the elastic top of the brunet's boxers. He used his teeth to pull waistband away from skin, then edged it down slowly, sliding his free hand between skin and cotton to caress Trowa's buttocks. He then rose to an upright position again, his lips meeting Trowa's in a kiss, and used the friction of their bodies to edge the remaining fabric from Trowa's hips before reluctantly breaking the kiss to reply. "You want to have your evil way with me, so you're luring me into your bedroom?"

"Guilty as charged, though I don't exactly see you protesting." Noticing the clothes strewn around the room, Trowa debated whether he should move them, in case Cathy came home earlier than expected, but then he caught sight of the look in Quatre's eyes. No, the clothes could wait. Trowa stumbled, nearly losing his footing, as Quatre slid his jeans down still further, as they made their way slowly, towards his tiny bedroom. His hand came out to stop his lover's progress. "Wait," he started to protest, then groaned aloud, as Quatre's fingers gently stroked his erection, his boxers finally joining his outer garments around his ankles.

"Cat," he murmured, kicking off his own shoes, as he knocked the door behind him open with his elbow. "Wait…"

"I've waited long enough, Trowa." Quatre's voice was low, his words slurring into each other, as Trowa pulled him onto the narrow bed. Or rather; attempted to pull him onto the bed.

Quatre cursed loudly, his elbow connecting with the wooden cabinet to the side of the bed, after Trowa lost his balance, his body deciding it wasn't going to co operate in his attempt to rid himself of the pile of clothes still twined around his feet.

"Are you all right?"

Wincing, Quatre gave him a small smile. "I might be," he pulled himself onto the bed, and then rolled onto his back, rubbing his arm and holding it out for Trowa to examine. "Maybe you'd better make sure."

Quickly slipping out of the rest of his clothing, Trowa knelt on the bed next to Quatre. "Looks okay to me," he decided, adopting a mock serious tone. "Though in these cases it does pay to examine the affected area closely." He took his lover's hand in his own, working his way up to the injured area with feather kisses, pausing every few inches to check on his patient's reaction.

Eyes half closed, Quatre let out a small sigh of pleasure, before turning his inner arm towards his partner. "Hurts too," he murmured, sliding over to rub his body against Trowa's, the action reminiscent of the lion the brunet had been tending to earlier.

Fingers following the path of his kisses, Trowa caressed the pale skin, gently stroking Quatre as the other boy reached out to touch him in return. Trowa gave him a small smile, before grasping each wrist and placing them above Quatre's head. "Let me do this, Cat. Please." I need to feel you as much as you need to feel me.

Quatre's eyes opened fully, "Thank you." He gave Trowa a smile of appreciation, wriggling to slide himself off the pillow, and stretch out fully. "Next time you can allow me to look after your needs." Licking his lips, Quatre reached over and playfully nipped Trowa's shoulder, before sinking back on the mattress. "I think that pain is spreading," he pointed out helpfully, "but I think if you want to do all the work, you might just have to find out where."

Shifting so that he was positioned over his lover, Trowa rose again to his knees and examined the boy beneath him carefully. Quatre's normally pale complexion was flushed, his breathing rapid, his lips parted slightly in an invitation to touch and explore.

Even before that first kiss at Quatre's home six months ago, when they'd finally admitted that their feelings for each other ran deeper than just that of friendship, their souls had reached out to each other. Each had connected with the other the first time they'd met - their mutual surrender had been on far deeper a level than just two Gundam pilots realising they shouldn't be fighting. There had been something about Quatre- a yearning for completeness which Trowa had never felt before had drawn him to the other boy. Making love for them had never been just about the physical act; instead it was a melding of emotions, a merging of souls. When they were joined, neither was sure where one left off and the other began.

And when they were apart, a part of the whole was missing. As though one could never be complete again without the presence of the other. And yet before meeting Quatre, Trowa had never realised that the empty part of his heart could be filled. In fact consciously, he hadn't recognised nor been able to identify that he was missing something, or rather someone - but now it felt, when they were together, that he had finally come home.

Sighing, Trowa bent to meet Quatre's lips, the other boy's tongue eagerly slipping into his mouth, as they improvised the music playing between them, their breath coming hard and fast, the two intertwining melodies flowing together to become one.

If only this could be forever. If only…

Quatre paused, his brow creasing into a frown, his hands coming down to brush affectionately through Trowa's hair.

"It's okay," Trowa reassured him, breaking the kiss. "I was just wishing we could stay like this forever, be together always." He gave Quatre a wistful smile, forcing himself to ignore the small sliver of hope coming from the other boy.

"Trowa," began Quatre, his eyes growing misty, but Trowa shushed him gently. He knew his lover still needed to talk, but part of him didn't want to ruin the moment, the illusion that the love they had was all that mattered. He'd reassure Quatre first, show him what his words couldn't and then maybe what followed would be easier.

Quatre, he thought, always the idealist, my love. I believe in us, too. If there was a way for us to just follow our dreams and desires, don't you think I'd take it in an instant? But life wasn't that simple. One day it would be - and that time was coming, but for now admitting to the world that Quatre Raberba Winner and Trowa Barton were in love wasn't as easy as it sounded.

"Later," he spoke gently, reassuringly. "Let me show you first, okay?" Let me show you how much I love you. Trowa trailed small kisses across Quatre's breastbone, and the blond nodded.

"I love you, Trowa," he whispered. "And I trust you. Show me, please…and then we'll talk." His voice held the same yearning it had had by the lion's cage. Trowa's felt breath hitched, and he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting Quatre's as they momentarily bared their souls to each other. Both of them were hurting, both of them needed this, each as much as the other.

"I love you too, Quatre." Trowa didn't speak those words very often, but they never failed to bring with them a small flutter within his heart. No matter what happens I love you, and will forever.

Quatre smiled, and snuggled back against the pillow. "Show me," he repeated, "touch me the way only you can." His eyes glazed over momentarily and he ran a gentle hand across Trowa's cheek again before returning both his arms to the position above his head where Trowa had placed them before. "I need you, please."

And I need you.

Lowering himself so that he was straddling the other boy, Trowa again kissed Quatre's breastbone, then moved his lips over to playfully suckle on the blond's nipples, pulling each sensitive nub through his teeth very gently. Quatre's hips arched slightly, his erection touching Trowa's, causing both boys to let out a small gasp of pleasure. Trowa shifted, focusing his concentration to continue stroking his tongue against Quatre's chest, slowly working his way down his body, each touch evoking a slight shiver from his lover.

He paused as he reached Quatre's groin, sliding down the bed further, re-positioning himself between Quatre's legs to caress the sensitive flesh of his partner's inner thigh. Lips followed fingers, kisses followed the wet trail left by his tongue, and Quatre's hands gripped the bedrail tightly as he groaned aloud. Trowa glanced towards Quatre, noticing with a small smile that his eyes were closed. Quatre was enjoying this on all levels, he realised, losing himself in both the physical and emotional. Feel what I feel, he thought, a small shudder rippling through him, echoing the growing waterfall of pleasure cascading through his lover.

With deliberate slowness Trowa's kisses marked a trail across skin, finally coming to rest at the small sac between Quatre's legs. His tongue stroked the sensitive area as if tasting a rare delicacy, his touch gentle at first, then becoming firmer before removing his mouth to cup his lover's testicles in his hand, and rolling them between his fingers.

"Trowa…" Quatre's response was barely above a whisper, his voice heavy with passion, and a yearning for more. Hands gripped Trowa's hair, and Quatre arched his hips, moaning as Trowa brought his mouth down to sample the drops of fluid pooling on the tip of his lover's erection.

Repeating the earlier actions he'd made with his fingers, but this time with his tongue, Trowa worked his way up Quatre's arousal, each stroke causing Quatre to gasp. The other boy tangled his fingers through Trowa's hair, his cries of pleasure becoming louder.

Pulling away, Trowa reached out to fumble through the drawer of the bedside cabinet for the small tube he knew was there from when he'd unpacked from his last meeting with Quatre. Damn where was it?

"Trowa?" Quatre turned onto to his side to see what had taken his lover's attention. His mouth turned up into a small smile after Trowa found what he was looking for, and closed the drawer quickly, re-positioning himself next to Quatre so that they were facing each other.

"Now were was I?" he murmured, bending to suck on Quatre's earlobe as he slid one of the pillows out from under his head, and placed one hand under Quatre's buttocks to lift them onto the air. He slid the spare pillow underneath then lowered the blond gently onto it, rolling them both so that Quatre was on his back.

"I think we were about to make mad passionate love," Quatre told him with a smug look on his face.

"So that wasn't passionate enough for you?" Trowa couldn't resist the answering retort.

"It'll do…for a start," Quatre reached out for the small tube at the same time Trowa did, and waved it triumphantly, reading the label aloud. "Strawberry. Hmm. We had strawberry last time." His grin grew wider. "Very nice it was too, from what I remember." Quatre licked his lips slowly, wetting them with his tongue, then running his tongue over first one finger and then the other, before unscrewing the cap and squeezing some of the lubricant onto his hand.

"Quatre?"

"Let me," Quatre paused, as he repeated the words Trowa had used earlier. "Please." He pulled himself up into a half sitting position on one elbow, reaching out to grab Trowa's arousal in his hand, stroking it with a firm even action as he coated it liberally with the lubricant.

"Hmmm," Trowa nodded absently, groaning as his body reacted to his lover's fingers playing him, fondling him. Pushing Quatre back against the pillows, he retrieved the tube from him, squeezing a generous amount onto his own fingers, before applying it to his lover's entrance to make their joining easier. He then grasped a leg in each hand, bringing them up to rest against his shoulders.

Pulling Quatre into an embrace, Trowa used his free hand to stroke the other boy's hair, enjoying the closeness, the feel of skin against skin, the sound of two hearts beating in tandem in the quietness of room.

Wriggling slightly, Trowa slowly pushed into his lover's body, pausing after feeling himself first slip inside, to run his fingers down Quatre's cheek tenderly, and give a small smile as Quatre's breath hitched. Quatre returned the smile before bringing his head up to press his lips against Trowa's, the kiss reflecting the hunger of his desire. Their tongues sought one another, trying to find their rhythm as Trowa, beginning to move inside Quatre, felt his lover's body tighten around his own in response.

Drowning, he was drowning in a sea of emotion that he wasn't sure was his own. Trowa became aware of the sound of breathing, his own and Quatre's, each growing ragged as they reached for one another, their awareness of the boundaries between them dissolving in their need for completeness. A tendril of what he could only describe as something intangible, yet somehow definitively Quatre touched his consciousness. Trowa closed his eyes, absorbing the feel of their bodies moving together, their souls meeting and merging, his own essence joining with Quatre's, two strands twisting together, each unique, but together, stronger, purer, more alive. It was like touching heaven, touching him inside, pulling him into a calmness of belonging he had never experienced anywhere else but with Quatre.

The outside world didn't exist. Nothing existed but the two of them moving together, being together, a perfect one. Quatre moaned, and Trowa felt another wave of emotion, of desire cascade over him. He brought his hand down to grasp Quatre's erection, stroking it, caressing it in time with his own thrusts. What was left of his self control wavered then collapsed, the dam breaking around them as they climaxed together, each finding their own sense of oneness, of belonging in the other.

"I love you," Trowa whispered, his voice catching slightly.

"Love you too." Quatre's eyes were damp, and Trowa kissed him gently, before wiping the tears with one finger. Pulling out of his lover, Trowa brought Quatre's legs down to rest on the bed, lying his head on the pillow before he moved off the bed, standing, content to watch. Quatre smiled at him, but then frowned as Trowa padded towards the bedroom door.

"Just need to get something from the bathroom," he explained. "Won't be a minute."

Quatre's frown changed to a grin. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere." He pulled himself into a sitting position. "Unless you'd like to include a tour of that bathroom in your plans for this evening."

It didn't take long for Trowa to grab a washcloth, and when he returned to the bedroom, Quatre seemed subdued, as though something were troubling him. "Quatre?"

Giving him a small smile, Quatre lay back on the bed, allowing Trowa clean him up with the damp cloth. Finally he spoke, his voice soft but with a sense of yearning in it. "Did I tell you that after the last time we used that flavour lube, I went to a function and they served fresh strawberries?" He gave a small chuckle, but Trowa could sense the underlying pain. "I'm sure a few people were wondering why the CEO of Winner Enterprises suddenly turned such a bright shade of red. I took one whiff, and couldn't get the mental picture of a very delicious and naked Trowa Barton out of my head." Quatre paused. "And I found myself turning to tell you, and then remembered you weren't there."

Oh Cat, I'm sorry. All the times Quatre had felt alone, needed Trowa, and he hadn't been there for him. And the wedding had been the proverbial last straw, the added insult to injury. Trowa dropped the cloth, and climbed onto the bed, wrapping himself around Quatre to reassure him, that at least for now he could and would be there for him. Quatre brought his head down to rest on his chest, tangling his limbs around Trowa's.

"I'm here now," whispered Trowa, knowing those words, while offering comfort weren't the ones Quatre really needed to hear. He might be here now, but what about the next time they were apart? And those times were going to get harder, not easier - for both of them. Trowa pulled Quatre closer, his mind trying to find the right words to reassure the other boy, but knowing what he was looking for didn't exist.

"Trowa…" Quatre paused, before tilting his head to glance up, his eyes probing, searching for answers. "I know you want this relationship as much as I do, but…"

"But?"

"But…maybe we don't see things the same way. I mean…" Quatre hesitated again. "When we're together it's wonderful, but I need you more than just on a part time basis. I know you love me, Trowa, yet on some level…"

"I do love you, Quatre." Trowa planted a kiss on the top of Quatre's head. "I feel as though a part of me is missing when you're not here. I miss the sound of your voice, running my fingers through your hair." He tried hard to keep the wistfulness out of his voice, but without success as his tone softened. "Sometimes, when you're asleep next to me, I'll sit and watch, just content to be with you, to be close."

Quatre interrupted him, his voice changing tone to become almost accusing. "Then why doesn't that closeness extend to being seen with me in public?" He shook his head, and pulled away slightly from Trowa's embrace. "I know how you feel…in private. But every time I suggest going somewhere together where people might see us, it's a different story." Quatre's eyes glazed over slightly, his hand going to his heart in a familiar gesture as he frowned. "Even now, just talking about it, I can sense…" Trowa felt an echo of pain run through him. The connection between them was still wide open, fuelled by their recent lovemaking. "Just thinking about it scares you."

"You don't understand…" Trowa started to say. Before the words were out of his mouth, he knew it hadn't been the right thing to say.

"Don't understand? What's there to understand, Trowa?" Quatre disentangled himself from Trowa, moving to pull the quilt from the bed around him, gripping the side of it until his knuckles grew white. "Are you ashamed to be seen with me? Is that it?" His eyes narrowed, as he watched Trowa for a reaction.

"I'm not ashamed of you, Quatre. I could never be ashamed of you." Trowa edged forward towards Quatre, but his lover shifted away in a very deliberate motion. "What we have is special…but…"

"But?" Quatre's voice was calm, too calm.

"Not everyone thinks the same way. In a perfect world it wouldn't matter, but we have to be realistic. What would..?"

"What would people think?" There was a coldness in Quatre's eyes, and Trowa shivered as the blond continued speaking. "Are you worried about your reputation, about how people might react to the fact you're involved with another man? Is that it?"

"No, not my reputation," Trowa hesitated trying to find the right words, knowing that Quatre wouldn't be impressed with the sentiments he was about to share. "I don't care what people think about me…" His voice tailed off as he realised that hadn't been the right thing to say.

Quatre sat quietly, his lips pursing into a thin line, waiting for Trowa to continue. The silence hung between them for a few moments, saying more than Quatre's words would have.

"I'm not ashamed to be with you, Cat. That's not I'm trying to say." Trowa repeated his earlier words, his mind trying to make sense of what he was trying to say, but without much success.

To his relief Quatre gave him a small smile, although his voice was still cold. "If I thought that, Trowa, I wouldn't be waiting for you to continue. So if it's not your reputation, what is it you care about?"

The words came slowly at first, and Trowa fought the urge to turn away from Quatre's calm gaze as he tried to explain to his lover what he wasn't sure he could even explain to himself. He knew why he'd come to this decision, and he'd been sure it was the right one - at least he had been until they'd started talking.

"I care about you, Quatre." Quatre blinked suddenly, his expression softening before turning hard again.

"Go on…" There was an almost dangerous quality to Quatre's tone, almost as though he were daring Trowa to continue.

"It's your reputation I care about. Not everyone is going to accept our relationship. We love each other, Quatre, but sometimes it's not enough." Love isn't going to protect you from the hurt of being rejected by your own family. I can't do that to you, Cat. I can't expect you to go through that…for me.

"It was enough for me," his lover said quietly, and Trowa winced from the pain he could feel coming from the other boy. "I'm not naive, Trowa. I do realise that not everyone will accept my choice of partner. Being with you, being together is more important to me than any so called reputation."

"You're in the public eye. If people find out the CEO of Winner Enterprises is involved in a homosexual relationship…how do you think your family is going to react?" You're a romantic, Quatre, and you haven't thought this through.

"You were worried about my family's reaction so you decided it was easier if we kept our relationship a secret?" The room seemed to grow colder, or maybe it was the coldness spreading through him, a slow anger filtering through their empathic link, an anger Trowa knew wasn't his.

"Cat?"

"Don't you think that should've been my decision, Trowa, not yours?" Quatre shook his head. "What gives you the right? Do you honestly think I haven't thought about this on my own, that I hadn't thought about the consequences of our relationship? If I were worried about my family's opinions as to my choices in life, to the extent you think I am, do you think I would have disobeyed my father to pilot a Gundam?" To say his lover was angry was an understatement to say the least.

"But that's different…" Trowa stopped mid sentence, as the door to the trailer opened, then closed again with a bang.

"Trowa? It's only eight o'clock, surely you can't have gone to bed already?" They both turned towards the bedroom door at the sound of Cathy's voice. "Trowa?" There was a pause, followed by a laugh. "Trowa Barton, have you got a girl in there?"

The glare Quatre gave him did more than suggest what the conclusion he'd drawn from that particular comment. "A girl?" he hissed. "Why would she think you have a girl in your bedroom?"

The soft footsteps grew closer, then stopped. "Wait a minute, these aren't girls clothes." Trowa mentally groaned, remembering the clothing they'd left strewn around the small living area as they'd undressed each other earlier.

"No, they bloody aren't," muttered Quatre under his breath, shooting Trowa another glare.

"Well I'll be damned. You are full of surprises." Cathy's voice carried clearly through the closed door, even before she called out to him again. "Trowa, have you got a boy in there?"

Quatre turned to face him, and Trowa felt an echo of the pain he knew he was responsible for.

"I thought you said you were worried about me, about my reputation," he said quietly. "Why would she think you had a girl in here if you'd told her about us, Trowa? She doesn't know, does she?" Quatre paused, his eyes growing misty as he studied Trowa carefully.

"Quatre, I can explain." But even as he spoke the words, Trowa wondered how true they were. He doubted whether any explanation would suffice at this point.

"Trowa, you'd better be decent in there, I'm coming in." There was a knock on the door, and then Cathy cleared her throat very loudly, before pushing it open. Trowa dived under the covers quickly, suddenly realising his state of undress.

Sliding off the bed, Quatre landed on his feet, quilt grasped firmly around him and held out his free hand to Cathy, every inch the perfect gentleman. "Pleased to meet you again," he said.

Cathy's smile turned to a frown. "Have we met?" she asked, eyes glancing around the room before coming to rest on Trowa.

"I'm Quatre," Quatre supplied the information as though he expected it should be enough to answer her question.

Giving him a friendly smile, Cathy turned to her adopted brother. "He's cute, Tro," she said. "How long have you been hiding him?" She frowned again, as realisation dawned. "You're the Gundam pilot who came to the circus after Trowa lost his memory, aren't you? I'm sorry I don't think we were ever properly introduced, you said your name is Quatre?"

"Trowa's never mentioned me?" The question was directed at Cathy, but Quatre was looking at Trowa as he asked it, his expression hiding the betrayal Trowa knew he was feeling.

"Sorry." Cathy glanced between the two boys, then her expression hardened, as she reached behind her back and threw a very familiar pair of burgundy boxers onto the bed. "Trowa dear, lend Quatre your robe while you go have a shower. I think it's time he and I got acquainted."

"But…" Both boys came out with the word at once, but Cathy turned tail and headed out of the room before they could argue with her.

"I'll put the kettle on while you get yourselves decent." She paused at the door, and glared at Trowa. "I'm sure your friend and I have a lot of catching up to do."

Pulling off the quilt, Quatre slipped into his boxers quickly as Trowa handed him the robe hanging on the back on his door. His lover's voice hitched slightly as he tied the garment around him. "She didn't even know who I was, Trowa. Even if you didn't want to tell her about us…" Trowa moved over to brush the tear running down Quatre's cheek, but the other boy stepped back, out of reach. "Go have a shower, Trowa." He shivered, his hand rubbing his chest. "Please."

"Cat?" Trowa opened his mouth to ask if he was okay, then decided against it.

"No, I'm not." Quatre took a few deep breaths, his voice shaky, as he answered the unspoken question anyway. "I need…just go, Trowa. Please"

Trowa watched him walk slowly down the hallway, waiting until he was out of sight before heading for the bathroom himself. He turned the shower on, then stepped inside the small cubicle, letting the water run off him. Quatre, I'm sorry. He only hoped the mistake he'd made could be corrected; that he hadn't damaged their relationship to the extent it couldn't be fixed. I love you, Cat. I only tried to do what I thought was right.

He reached for the soap and washcloth, absently beginning to lather the suds over his body, as he realised the only way open to him to fix things between them. If only he'd done this sooner, maybe he could have saved them both a lot of pain.

******

Wrapping the robe around himself, Quatre took deep, even breaths in an attempt to stay calm as he made his way slowly to the small kitchen of the trailer. He deliberately didn't look back towards the bedroom, towards Trowa, even though part of him wanted to.

He thought he was doing the right thing, Quatre told himself. He needed to hang onto that thought, needed to work through the anger he could feel building inside. Standing in the doorway of the living area, he closed his eyes momentarily and focused on raising his empathic shielding. The link he and Trowa shared was still too open, too raw from their lovemaking to completely block the strong feelings of guilt and pain coming from his lover. Coupling those with his own anger, plus what he was picking up from Cathy…Quatre rubbed his chest again - it was too much to handle all at once; to the extent it was manifesting itself in an almost physical pain.

"Are you okay?" Quatre opened his eyes at the concerned tone in Cathy's voice. She's not angry with me, he reminded himself. She's angry with Trowa. Angry that he never even bothered to tell her about me.

"I'm fine," he told her, hating the lie but not wanting to go into details. Very few people knew about his 'gift' and he preferred it to stay that way. Long term it was better for him and for them. Quatre's life up to this point had been anything but what others his own age would class as normal, and he didn't want to add to that. The less people knew, the easier it was for him to pretend to be just an 'average guy' as Duo would put it. He fought the urge to give a small laugh. Quatre Raberba Winner - average guy. Right. Gundam pilot, empath, CEO of Winner Enterprises despite his age, and in love with another man.

Sliding onto the spare chair, Quatre gave Cathy a small smile as she placed a cup in front of him, and began pouring the coffee. He sniffed the steaming liquid hesitantly; hoping the stories he'd heard about her coffee had been exaggerated. Taking a cautious sip, he decided they hadn't.

"Is the coffee too hot?" Cathy asked, noticing his reaction. "I can add some cold water if you like."

"No, it's fine. I guess I'm just not that thirsty." He paused. "I had some tea with Trowa when I arrived." Quatre shifted slightly, strengthening his grip on the hot cup, the words Trowa had used to try and explain his actions going around and around in mind.

"How do you think your family is going to react?"

Didn't Trowa realise that although he cared about his family, he wasn't going to let their opinions dictate the way he lived his life? Quatre shivered; Trowa's attempt to protect him had brought up memories he'd thought he dealt with, memories of that final conversation with his father before he'd died. He had been determined to stand up and fight for what he believed in then; this situation was no different. I don't need protecting, he thought. I need to be able to make my own decisions. Can't you see that? He knew Trowa had only acted out of love, but in many ways so had his father.

Quatre shook his head, trying to clear it. No, this was different. He shouldn't let his past experiences influence the way he was reacting to this. Trowa…Quatre closed his eyes again, as echoes of his lover's emotions washed over him. Even through the shielding he wasn't very successfully maintaining, he was as aware of Trowa's emotional state almost as much as he was aware of his own.

Guilt, apprehension, love.

As soon as he managed to calm himself sufficiently, to dampen the bond they would need to talk - properly - and this time he wasn't going to leave until they had. He should have insisted months ago, when he'd first noticed that something was bothering his lover, that there was a reason behind all the excuses. Leaving it had only made things worse, for both of them.

"Quatre?"

"Quatre?" Quatre felt a hand on his shoulder, and spun around, his hand automatically going to his side for the weapon he no longer carried.

"Sorry," he apologised. "I'm a bit out of it." And it's going to take me a while longer than I thought to lose that habit, too. Trowa wasn't the only Gundam pilot still working on reflex. Even though Quatre had been a soldier for a lot less time, he still found it hard not to react, especially when his mind was elsewhere.

Her mouth creasing into a forced smile, Cathy settled herself into the seat opposite him. "So how long have you and my brother been together?" she asked in a bright tone. Trowa hadn't been wrong when he'd said his sister preferred the direct approach, although he imagined it didn't work too well on everyone.

"Six months," Quatre replied, reasoning that Cathy had the right to know as she was Trowa's family in all the ways that mattered.

"Hmmm," she said. "Since the end of the war?"

Nodding, Quatre cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but…"

"Trowa's not big on sharing, you know." She frowned. "But I would have thought he would have had the decency to…" Pausing, she took one hand in hers, stared at him intently, then smiled. "You love him, don't you?"

"Yes," he replied, surprised when she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Cathy…"

Pouring herself another coffee, she leaned back in her chair, and spoke again before he could continue. "It seems to me that you know a lot more about me, than I know about you." She waggled her finger towards the bathroom, before running an approving eye over him, and he blushed. "Trowa has a lot of explaining to do when he finally shows himself. More coffee?"

"No, thank you."

"Good looks and manners. I'm impressed. You could teach a few people around here a thing or two. Now, Quatre dear, do you have a last name?" She grimaced suddenly. "And you must think me quite rude. I probably should apologise for the way I spoke to you the last time we met."

"No, it's okay," Quatre mumbled, embarrassed. "I deserved that and more, considering I was responsible…"

Shaking her head, Cathy put her fingers to her lips and made a shushing noise. "The war was an awful time for all of us. Everyone made mistakes; some of us still do." She glanced meaningfully towards the door again, and Quatre couldn't help but cringe. Trowa was going to get a real earful once he made his appearance, and to be honest a part of him was tempted to hang around and watch the fireworks. Wincing again, as a sudden wave of annoyance swept over him via Cathy, he decided that would be his signal to excuse himself to follow Trowa's example and seek the sanctuary of the suddenly very tempting shower. Remembering how Alimah had reacted when she'd confronted him about piloting Sandrock and his wound when she'd arrived on the doorstep, after he'd finally returned home, he decided he really didn't want to be in the vicinity of the lecture that Cathy would give Trowa.

"Winner," he said. "My name is Quatre Raberba Winner. I was Gundam Sandrock's pilot during the war." His tone softened. "I met Trowa in Corsica…"

"Winner?" Cathy stared at him, trying to put two and two together as she interrupted. "The L4 Winners?"

Nodding, Quatre wished, not for the first time, that his last name wasn't quite so well known. While he was proud of his family, of who he was, occasionally it would be nice not to get that reaction. Even Duo had reacted the same way when he'd first introduced himself properly.

The door between the sleeping and living areas of the trailer opened slowly, saving Quatre from answering anymore of Cathy's questions. Trowa had one hand in his pocket - he seemed nervous, especially when he glanced quickly over at Quatre to give him a small almost shy smile.

"Trowa?" he asked, frowning, trying to make sense of what he was picking up on. His own anger towards his lover was slowly subsiding, although Quatre knew it was going to take time for them both to sort through this. What had happened wasn't going to be put right with a simple apology, but it would be a good step in the right direction.

"Are you okay?" Trowa's tone suggested he had a fair idea that Quatre wasn't coping as well as he was trying to make out; often when their emotions ran high the link between them seemed to run both ways, with Trowa getting an echo of what Quatre was feeling. It hadn't happened often, apart from during sex, but they were sure it had been what had alerted Trowa to the fact Quatre had needed him, both on Libra and earlier when he'd been fighting the enemy even before Trowa had regained his memory after ZERO.

Noticing the looks passing between them, Cathy rose to her feet and picking up a neatly folded pile of clothes of the sofa, handed them to Quatre. "I think these are yours," she told him, giving him a wink. "I know they aren't Trowa's. He and I are going to have a nice chat, then I'll make us some supper." Cathy indicated the door, Trowa had just come through. "Hopefully my brother has been considerate enough to leave you some hot water. I'm sure you'll feel better after a shower."

And before Quatre realised what was happening he found himself propelled towards the bathroom with a big fluffy towel and washcloth draped over his arm. He stared after Cathy disappearing back into the living area for a moment, his mouth half-open. A small grin formed on his lips as a thought popped into his head. I'd love to see her and Duo go up against each other. It would be interesting to see who would win.

He turned on the taps, stripping off Trowa's borrowed robe and his boxers, and stepped under the water. Reaching for the soap, he lathered up the washcloth and began washing himself. The smell was comforting and familiar, a sense of Trowa, even though he was in the other room.

Quatre's mind went back to the story he'd told about the strawberries and he sank to his knees, his legs refusing to hold him as a sudden pain pierced his spaceheart.

Oh, Trowa, he thought, tears rolling down his cheeks to join the soapsuds as they spiralled slowly down the small drain in the floor. Hugging himself, he rocked back and forth, trying to ride the cascade of emotions he could no longer block. Even though he'd always taken comfort from Trowa's presence, anchored himself with his inherent calmness, it now served now as a reminder of all the times they'd been apart, of the argument between them, the pain they'd caused each other. He was drowning in a deep pool of emotion, both his and Trowa's beating against him like a sandstorm in the desert, overwhelming him with an intensity he was unable to fight. There were no walls to hide behind, just the sensation of being pulled under, of being buried alive, to the extent that nothing else existed.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried unsuccessfully to calm himself, but after what seemed an eternity he became aware of strong arms around him, and the water stopping.

"Cat, are you okay?" Trowa's eyes met his, echoing the concern Quatre could sense coming both from him and Cathy, even though she'd made sure she was far enough away to give them the privacy they needed.

Shaking his head, Quatre tried to free himself from Trowa's embrace, backing up against the shower wall. The physical closeness was making it harder - damn his cursed ability. "I'm sor…sorry, Trowa. It's… too much." He managed to get the words out between gasps for air, trying to ignore the hurt look on Trowa's face. "Need space." He needed Trowa's presence to anchor him, but with the state the other boy's emotions were in; certainly not his usual calm even though his outward demeanour suggested otherwise, they were only acting as a catalyst to draw Quatre further into the whirlpool he was trying to break free of.

Rising slowly to his feet, Trowa extended his hand towards Quatre, before bringing it back to hang limply by his side. "I…" His face twisted in a grimace of pain. "Call me if you need me. I'm sorry…" Trowa walked towards the door, turning to give Quatre a quick glance before closing it behind him as he exited.

"So am I," Quatre whispered, hugging the towel as he stared after Trowa. He stayed in his half crouching position for a few long moments, then pulled himself upright, as he came to a decision. He needed to put some space between them. Time to clear his head and get himself back under control. Maybe then he'd be able to talk to Trowa and sort things out.

******

His mind only half on what Cathy was saying, Trowa kept glancing back towards where he'd left Quatre. He knew that physical contact made it harder for Quatre to shield himself from strong emotions, but it didn't make the way he'd pulled away from him any easier to handle. Quatre was hurting, and the options available to Trowa to try and help were dwindling rapidly.

"Trowa Barton, are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" Cathy sounded annoyed, and Trowa didn't blame her. Finding out that her brother had been involved with someone for several months and to quote 'hadn't bothered to let her know, because who was she to him anyway' hadn't gone down very well at all. She'd spent several minutes lecturing him on how families were supposed to communicate with one another, especially in this kind of situation. She reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to get a response from him.

"Huh?" Trowa glanced up to see the concern reflected in her eyes. "Sorry, Cathy." He paused, glancing towards the bathroom again, his fingers closing over the small box in his pocket. He only hoped he hadn't left this too late.

Giving a small shake of his head he remembered back to the day he'd been wandering the streets of the small English village where the circus had set up camp. His mind on Quatre, as it often was when they were apart, his curiosity had gotten the better of him when he'd noticed the old antique shop. Outside Time, the sign had said on the door. Trowa had entered the shop; he'd been almost drawn to it, but hadn't know why. The pocket watch had caught his eye as he'd explored the shelves; he'd known as soon as he'd seen it that it would appeal to Quatre. Quatre loved old watches. 'They're part of history,' he'd often said, 'yet a reminder of what's still left to come.' Trowa had bought it for his lover, as a gift to help him through the times they couldn't be together, as a reminder that those times wouldn't be forever.

When he'd turned it over, and noticed the inscription, the shopkeeper had given him a knowing smile and made a strange remark. "Meant to be," he'd said. "That watch is special, it's got history." Trowa had pressed him for information but the old man had refused to comment further.

"He'll be okay, Trowa," Cathy tried to reassure him. "He just needs time and reassurance." She paused. "He loves you, you know."

Nodding, Trowa gave her a small smile of thanks. "I know he does." He took a deep breath, before saying the next words. "And I …I love him too."

Leaning over the table, Cathy gave him a quick hug, which was quickly following by a stern look. "I think it's time you showed him, Trowa. You've hurt that boy. I saw the look on his face when he realised you hadn't told me about him. Sometimes you only get one chance of real love and happiness, and you don't want to let it slip through your fingers because you're worried about what people think."

Glancing down at the table between them, Trowa struggled to find the words to ask what he needed to know. "So you're not bothered by the fact…we're…that we're…?"

"Together? Gay?" Cathy shook her head. "Silly boy. I love you, Trowa. If he makes you happy, and I can see he does, I don't care." She laughed at his puzzled expression. "I knew you were seeing someone, Trowa. The difference in your step, the small smile on your face when you didn't think I was watching - and all around the times you took those short vacations of yours. I would have been an idiot not to notice." Her tone hardened. "And I get the impression that Quatre finds it a lot harder to hide his feelings than you do. Hiding your relationship must be killing him." He opened his mouth to confirm that he already knew, but she shushed him. "If you hadn't told me, I'm presuming you'd talked him into not telling his family yet either, especially considering who they are. And yes, Trowa, I'm quite aware of who your boyfriend is." Cathy paused again, speaking slowly to get her point across. "Don't you think you owe it to him to make things right?"

A slight cough from behind them prevented him from answering. Quatre stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe as he gave them both a small smile. He seemed a lot calmer, at least on the outside, but he was pale, and spoke hesitantly. "I'm sorry," he said. "About before. Trowa…" Quatre shook his head before Trowa had a chance to come any closer. "I just need some space. Being this close…" Quatre stopped, and took a few deep breaths before continuing. "I'll be okay. I just need to clear my head, get a grip on my…" His voice tailed off.

Fighting the urge to go to him, Trowa nodded in return. All the pain they'd both been hiding from each other over the past few months, it had been too much for Quatre to handle once it had finally come out into the open. "It's okay, Cat," Trowa tried to reassure him. "We'll talk when you're ready. I have…" He glanced at Cathy, and then back at Quatre, knowing it was important that his lover see him acknowledge their relationship in front of his own family. Giving him the watch would do that, especially reading aloud the words inscribed. Even though the words weren't Trowa's own, they still reflected what was in his heart, they said what Trowa himself had struggled to say. "I have something to give you."

Quatre's eyes glazed over momentarily, then Trowa felt an echo of hope trickle through him. "I won't be long," his lover promised, "but I need to do this." Pausing at the door of the trailer, Quatre looked back, his lips mouthing the words 'I love you,' and then he was gone.

Rubbing a hand across her eyes, Cathy gave a small sniffle. "I didn't know you could be so romantic, Trowa. I do believe there's hope for you yet."

Hope for the both of us, Trowa thought. I love you too, Cat. He forced his gaze away from the door, then turned to Cathy. "Do you…?"

Her mouth turned up into a small grin. "Well? Aren't you going to go after him?"

Shaking his head, Trowa poured himself another cup of coffee. Much as he wanted to he knew it was important to give Quatre the time alone he needed. Actions spoke louder than words, especially in this situation. Going after Quatre now would be completely the wrong thing to do; Quatre needed to know that Trowa would be there for him if needed, but also that he respected him enough to let him make his own decisions, his own mistakes.

Standing in front of him, her foot taping impatiently, it was obvious Cathy wasn't quite seeing things the same way. "Trowa?"

"No, Cathy. He said he needed space, and he does." Trowa took a sip of his coffee before speaking further. "I'm going to wait until he's ready to talk." He sat for a moment, before meeting her gaze. "Cathy," he said hesitantly. "I…I…You know I appreciate everything you've done." It was difficult to put what needed to be said into words but after what he'd done it was important. "It feels good to have family."

Cathy stared at him, for once in her life lost for words, and then she wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hug. "It feels good to me too, Trowa. I think…"

Before she could continue there was the sound of tires squealing outside, following by a muffled thump, then nothing.

An overwhelming sensation of dread hit him, his stomach churned and for an instant he was back on Libra, unable to stop the feeling that a part of himself was somehow being ripped away. Oh God. Trowa was on his feet, heading out into the darkness before he even realised what he was doing. Hang on Quatre, I'm coming.

There was a momentary flash of panic, pain and loss then the link between them slammed shut, taking his awareness of Quatre with it.

******

End of Chapter One

TBC