Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Beautiful Dawn ❯ Chapter 10 ( Chapter 10 )

Beautiful Dawn

Part Ten

Standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Gundam Wing or its bishounen, nor am I making any monetary profit from this fic whatsoever.

Pairings: 6x1, 13+5 ( possible 13x5 later), 3+4
Warnings: AU ( the pilots are 18, Zechs and Treize are 23) yaoi, angst, sap, lemon

Rounding the corner of the stairwell, Heero and Trowa came to stand in a sun-spattered circle, near the second floor landing's elegantly curving columns. Trowa paused to heft his books under one arm while deftly transferring the small paper bag clutched in the same fist, to the other hand. Automatically, Heero extended a hand, taking the books from the taller youth and adding them to his own pile. Trowa smiled briefly, his green gaze warm. "Thanks."

Heero's answer was a barely perceptible nod of the head, but Trowa understood. "Do you mind waiting for a few seconds? I just want to drop off some lunch for Cat. I'll be right back."

Heero nodded and settled against the balustrade as he watched Trowa disappear into the next room. From where he stood, Heero could clearly see the room's lone occupant, and the small blonde's attention was riveted to the open texts before him. So much so, in fact, that he did not perceive Trowa's approach. And so, when Trowa rested the bag of food on the desk, then quietly embraced him from behind and placed a kiss on the silky crown of Quatre's head, the blonde jumped and stiffened before melting into the taller man's embrace.

" Ah Tro, it's you." Quatre breathed, rubbing his cheek lovingly against Trowa's muscled forearm, and Heero stared, curious and strangely fascinated by the warm exchange. The affection between the two was baffling -- and so strong that it was almost palpable. Any traces of doubt he might have had about them being lovers immediately vanished. But perhaps what was most confounding, was the subtle change that had come over his newfound friend. There was a gentless to Trowa's baritone, and a deep tenderness in every touch, every word he shared with Quatre.

Why would someone like him allow himself such dependence?

It was obvious to Heero that Trowa was too sharp to not realize the vulnerability that accompanied such a relationship.His eyes narrowed. Then why? Perplexed, his gaze returned to the two in the adjacent room….

*

"Hmmm," Trowa hummed, softly nuzzling the pale, velvety skin of Quatre's neck. "You forgot to eat lunch again," he admonished and Quatre sighed, chagrined.

"I planned to -- really -- but this assignment needs to be done."

"Do you realize how long ago classes ended?"Trowa tsked, taking the pen from his fingers. "If I'm correct, you've been in here for almost two hours."

Quatre glanced at his watch, noticing for the first time the late hour and how empty the room. "Allah you're right." He smiled sheepishly. "I guess I lost track of the time."

"Mmm hmm," Trowa nodded. He massaged the blonde's shoulders. "Take a break, love." He plopped the paper bag down in front of Quatre encouragingly. "Have something to eat."

Smiling, Quatre reached for Trowa's hand and brushed his lips over his knuckles. "You're too good to me, you know."

"I know," Trowa rumbled, voice heavy with desire. Loosening, Quatre's shirt, his hands slipped inside to fondle the blonde's small, pale nipples; rubbing and teasing the sensitive nubbins until Quatre gasped, shuddering.

"T-Trowa…" his voice was strained -- breathless.

Trowa kissed him, drawing away from those sweet lips -- and the delectable bits beneath his fingers -- reluctantly. "Eat," he commanded huskily. "When we get home I'll show you just how good I can be to you." He kissed Quatre one last time. "I'll be back."

"O-okay," Quatre replied shakily, unwrapping the hamburger with trembling fingers.

Trowa heard his lover's dreamy sigh as he walked away and a smile of anticipation touched his lips. He couldn't wait.

When he returned to Heero, Trowa found him staring absently over the balustrade. "Thanks," he took his books from the shorter youth.

"Aa," Heero nodded, barely meeting his eyes and Trowa paused, noticing that there was slight flush to his skin. He studied Heero for the space of a breath before nodding." Are you done for the day?"

Heero looked up, and this time, the flush was gone as if it had never been. "Yes,"he hefted his backpack more securely onto his shoulder, "my last class was actually over an hour ago."

Trowa nodded. "Then, aren't you supposed to be meeting Milliard? I thought he was taking you home this afternoon."

Heero 's eyes widened with some hidden emotion, before the bruntette quickly covered it . "Yes," his voice was almost resigned, but there was something else in those deep tones as well, and Trowa hid a smile.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the parking lot."

*

Zechs lingered outside the computer labs, hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar chocolate mop of hair. As he wandered down the hall, checking each of the rooms in turn, an exasperated gust of air escaped his lips.This was ridiculous. True, Heero was a CIS major, but there was no guarantee that he'd be anywhere near the labs. He realized he had no idea what the brunette's schedule was like. What was worse, if Heero's classes had ended early ( and from the looks of it they had), Zechs had no way of knowing if he had already gone home.How could he have been such an idiot? Telling Heero to meet him, yet forgetting to ask something as important as when his classes ended....

The boy's despondency this morning still was a niggling worry in the back of his mind, and Zechs had been determined to find out its cause. He shook his head in frustration. Now, that hardly seemed possible. Scanning the rooms one last time he headed towards the doors. Zechs stepped outside and raked his bangs back impatiently, as the wind tickled them against his forehead. "Fuck." The expletive rolled off his lips as his thoughts returned to Heero. There had been something different about him today. He just knew it.

How could he have forgotten such a simple detail? But then, Zechs supposed that was the price he paid for being an arrogant idiot. He grunted. And lately, he seemed to be doing a lot of that. As he rummaged through his pocket for his keys, Zechs sighed at the missed opportunity.

"Perhaps you should be quick about it Milliard? He doesn't seem like the type to wait for long."

Zechs whirled toward the familiar voice and found Trowa leaning against the wall, the long sweep of his bangs highlighting the mysterious gleam of his eyes. "Trowa, " Zechs' lips parted, forming a question, but before the words could escape, the auburn-haired youth casually saluted him, and disappeared beyond the glass doors. "Wai … t." Realizing the futility of the gesture, Zechs let his hand fall to his side. He stood dumfounded for a moment, the breeze gently raking his hair through its immaterial fingers.

Then the full force of Trowa's words hit him.

He hurried across the parking lot, grateful purpose in his stride.

Part Eleven