Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Final Grade ❯ Chapter 2

Title: Final Grade
Chapter: 2/?
Warnings: Whoa, looky! Rampant hormones make for very steamy fics. Beware of flying 4+3 and near-lemonish behavior. References to and light descriptions of pedophilic rape.
Disclaimers: Gundam Wing and all characters associated with it is not mine, nor am I making any money from this. This is purely for my personal enjoyment, and the enjoyment of the people who read this. GW is copyright Bandai, Sunrise, etc.

Pale hands moved up his legs, sliding under his skirt as gentle kisses were placed on his throat and upper chest. Triton arched his back, a faint whisper of a moan escaping his lips as his hands slid through Quatre's platinum hair, urging the older man's head lower while his hips moved toward the blonde's touch. His body ached with need, and Quatre's teasing kisses weren't helping any. He bit his lip and whined in protest when Quatre's hands moved from his thighs, and his teacher chuckled softly.

"Patience, Triton. You'll get what you want in due time. We both will, in due time." Quatre slowly unbuttoned Triton's top, sliding it down his arms and kissing first his left shoulder, then across his chest to his right one. He nipped softly, another chuckle coming from deep in his throat when Triton whined again, panting. "You're a virgin?" A hand was placed right above Triton's erection as it raised his skirt and the young man shook his head. "No?"

"I was raped," Triton whispered, "when I was a child."

"I thought so. I'll be extra gentle, then." Quatre tossed Triton's shirt to the side, hands once again under the green-eyed boy's skirt and lifting it up, spreading his student's legs.

Triton moved his legs apart willingly, faintly surprised that he wasn't wearing any underwear. That left him completely exposed to Quatre, who sighed softly and touched him gently, trailing a finger up and down his erection as the Arab's other hand pushed Triton back, laying him down on the soft bed. Triton gasped as his body arched toward that touch, and then Quatre leaned down, tongue flicking out to wet the tip of Triton's penis. That brought a louder cry from the young man, then Quatre was leaning over him, gloriously nude. Triton moaned again as he felt his teacher enter him smoothly, tossing his head from side to side. It felt so good, almost painful. Soft lips closed over his and Triton gasped, which allowed Quatre's tongue entry into his mouth. He moaned his teacher's name, hands grasping at the Arab's back as Quatre moved slowly in and out of him, one hand gently pumping Triton's erection as his tongue explored the younger man's mouth.

Triton gasped and moaned Quatre's name again, then something changed and suddenly he wasn't nineteen any more, wasn't in the arms of his teacher, laying in a soft bed as Quatre gently made love to him. He was five again, or was it fourteen? Some unidentifiable age between those years, and all Triton knew was that he didn't want to be here, didn't want what he knew was going to happen.

James Russell grinned at him, rough hands pinning Triton's above his head as his clothes were forcibly removed from his body, then the red-head reached down and moved Triton's legs apart and Triton was helpless to stop him. Triton's head fell back as he cried silently, tears sliding down his face. Not again. James was gone, had been gone for five years. He wasn't ever coming back. Why was this happening again? He cried out as James entered him roughly, that gleeful grin still on his face. He'd never once regretted hurting Triton, and had gone out of his way to do it. He'd admitted to being a pedophile but had mocked Triton, saying that if he hadn't been so young, so tender, that he could control himself. James had managed to blame it all on Triton, and had made the young child believe him. Even now, five years after James had left the circus, Triton still blamed himself, and for that reason had never told anyone. He cried out again and again as James thrust into him, then started shaking violently. The shaking continued, and James' grunts of pleasure became his name being called out.

"Triton! Triton!"

When had James had such a high voice? It sounded like Cathrine, almost.

"Triton!"

Someone smacked him across the face and Triton sat bolt upright with a strangled cry, eyes impossibly wide as he raised his hands to avoid being hit again.

Cathrine dropped her hand and let her head fall forward, breathing heavily. "God, Triton, you scared me to death! What happened? Are you all right? God, you scared me!" His sister pulled her nightrobe tighter about her slim body then reached out for Triton. "Triton, what happened? Please, don't turn away. Let me help, please."

Triton gulped and wiped his tears away before leaning toward his sister. He needed to be held. Cathrine let out a soft sound of surprise but opened her arms for her brother, holding him gently as she stroked his hair. "I . . . had a . . . bad dream."

Cathrine snorted. "No kidding. I heard you thrashing about in here, so I came in to see what was wrong. At first you sounded like you were enjoying the dream, then you started crying out in fear. What were you dreaming about?"

Enjoying the dream? Triton blinked as he remembered the first part, and was glad that it was dark as his face caught fire. 'Oh, my. That was Quatre, in the first part . . . Why was I dreaming about him?' But it had been a trigger for the second part, the one Triton wanted to forget as quickly as possible. "I . . . It was . . . about James." Cathrine didn't know the whole story, but she suspected that James had done a lot more to her little brother than push him around, Triton knew.

"What happened?" she whispered softly in his ear, rubbing his back with one hand.

"It hurt," Triton whispered back, still shaking softly.

"How?"

"James . . . hurt me, 'neesan, hurt me bad." Triton squeezed his eyes shut, but saw every detail of the dream vividly, so he opened them and stared at the light coming in from the living area of the trailer.

Cathrine's grip tightened slightly and she growled soft and low, then her hold loosened a bit. "Triton?"

"He . . . I couldn't stop him, really I couldn't. I tried, at first, but he only hurt me more when I struggled. He said, he said everyone knew, even you, and it was all right. He said no one cared about what he did to me. He said I deserved it, that it was my fault." The tears returned, silent as ever, rolling down Triton's face as he whispered. "It was my fault, Cathrine. I should have stopped him, should have told somebody. But he said you all knew, that you didn't care. I was stupid to believe him. I tried to tell you, really I did. But then he'd look at me, and I knew that if I said anything he'd hurt me worse than ever. Then he was gone and it didn't matter anymore, because I didn't know where he was. I knew by then that no one knew, but it was done and over with, and there was no use dragging up the past." He trembled, an invisible burden lifting now that he'd finally told someone.

"How long, Triton? How long did he hurt you?"

"Nine years."

"That bastard. The whole time he was with us, he was molesting you?"

Triton sniffed and nodded. "I'm sorry, Cath---"

"Sorry? For what? Triton, you were five. Five. I remember how strong James was. I wouldn't have been able to anything if he'd pinned me down, and you were only a child. I always wondered why you got so quiet . . ." Cathrine took a shuddering breath and brushed her lips across Triton's cheek. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"He said he'd hurt me worse if I did. He said that you knew and didn't care, and why should you? I was less than worthless. I should have told when I was older and knew that you didn't know, though."

"Triton, by then the damage was done. By the time James left, he'd warped your world enough that even if he'd screamed it at the top of his lungs though the loudspeaker during a performance you would have denied it, am I right?"

Triton nodded mutely, and Cathrine hugged him tightly.

"Oh, Triton, I'm so sorry. I should have done something when I noticed how quiet you'd become, how you never smiled and jumped at everything. I found it odd that men started to scare you, and that you and James were gone at the same time a lot. We could spend all night arguing over who's to blame, but that won't help. You should have told, I should have been more observant. There's nothing we can do now but help you heal as best you can, and pray James gets what he deserves."

"You . . . you don't hate me?"

"Of course not, Triton. I love you, and nothing will ever change that." They were silent for a few minutes, enjoying being held and comforted, then Cathrine spoke again. "Who's Quatre?"

Triton's heart stopped, his eyes popping wide open. "W-what?"

"I asked who Quatre is."

Why did she want to know? Where had she heard that name? Triton flashed on his dream of Quatre, of calling out the Arab's name. "Why . . . why do you want to know?"

"Just curious. Before the nightmare you were calling that name out. Sounded like you liked what was happening at that moment, and I was just wondering if this Quatre was anyone I should meet."

"N, no. Quatre's . . . no one. No one." Triton curled in on himself as best he could, head resting on Cathrine's chest. Three weeks into the project and his nightmares were starting again. Would he survive the next five?

The auburn-haired woman shrugged. "Whatever you say, love. I don't think Quatre is no one, whoever they are, but if you'd rather not talk about them it's fine with me." They both yawned at the same time and Cathrine laughed. "Aren't we a sight. You need sleep, Triton." She lay him back down and tucked the covers under his chin, then got up to leave.

Triton grabbed her hand, fear rising at the thought of being left alone. "Please, stay, Cathrine."

Cathrine's eyebrows went up. "Triton . . ."

"Please, don't leave me alone. I, I know it's odd, but please, Cathy. I don't want to sleep alone tonight." Triton looked up at his sister with wide eyes, willing her not to leave him, and she smiled.

"All right. Give me a minute, and I'll stay in here."

Triton released her hand and sank back with a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"No problem." She left the room, and then Triton heard another voice. Cathrine responded, then the voice said something else. Another response from his sister and the trailer door opened and closed. Cathrine appeared in the doorway a moment later, a tired smile on her face. "Promise not to kick me off the bed?" She sat on the edge of it, yawning.

"Why should I? Who was here, 'neesan?" Triton moved over, giving Cathrine room to lie down.

"Mm. Someone who does kick me off the bed." She turned on her side and smiled at Triton. "What I do for my little brother. I had a beautiful woman willing to do anything I wanted, yet I make her leave because you need me." Her eyes twinkled. "But that's all right. You come first, no matter what." She reached out and took Triton's hand, squeezing it gently. "Hilde's a sweetie, she didn't mind much."

Hilde? "Hilde Schbeiker?"

Cathrine's eyebrows went up. "How did you know?"

"She's in my psychology class."

Cathrine laughed softly. "No kidding. That's very interesting, you know. But we'll talk later. For now, let's get some sleep."

"Good night, Cathrine." Triton closed his eyes.

"Good night, Triton."

* * *

"Good morning, Triton."

Triton rolled over and mumbled something, face buried under his pillow.

"Triton, get up."

He shook his head.

"You're going to miss school."

"Good."

"What?"

Triton spoke louder. "Good."

"Why?"

"I don't want to go."

Cathrine sat on the edge of the bed and poked him. "C'mon, Triton, please? Why don't you want to go?"

"I don't feel good."

"Where don't you feel good?"

Triton rolled over and touched his chest, over his heart. "Here. It really hurts. Please, Cat, not after last night. I, I don't want to go to school today. I will tomorrow, I promise."

Cathrine pursed her lips and covered Triton's hand with her own, then nodded. "All right. You can stay home today, but tomorrow you go back. Is that clear?"

Triton snuggled back under the covers with a sigh. "Yes, Cathrine." He had a day to sort through his feelings before facing Mr. Winner again. After last night, Triton wasn't sure he wanted to see his teacher. He shivered as he remembered what it had felt like having Quatre's hands on him, running over his body. 'You fool, you think that's how it feels? How could you? You've never had sex. You've been raped. Is that a good model to go by?' But it had felt so good in the dream, Triton wanted to ignore James' voice talking to him. It was in his own mind, he knew, but it was always James' voice. 'Idiot. Quatre is using you, just like James.' He'd sounded so sincere in the dream, though . . . 'And that was a dream. You only want him to be sincere so you can justify being such a slut. You'd open your legs for anything with a cock, wouldn't you? You're pathetic.' Triton shook his head and whimpered softly, eyes squeezed tightly shut. 'Go away,' he begged. 'Leave me alone.'

'And why should I?' the voice wanted to know, 'when we both know what I say is true? You're a cock-sucking slut, admit it. You enjoyed what James did to you, remember?'

Triton bit his lip and pushed at the memories as they surfaced, but he couldn't make them go away. 'Nooooo . . .' He'd just reached puberty, and once when James had taken him it had felt like a bomb had been dropped on the circus, turning everything upside down and shaking it all up. It had felt so good Triton had cried out, face buried in the dank grass of the clearing James had forced him into. James had laughed at him, calling him a slut as his hands held Triton's rump still. The next time he'd thrust into Triton the feeling returned, and Triton had cried out again. That had made James laugh again, and he'd moved his hand to fondle Triton's penis, still chuckling as it hardened slowly. That had been the only time in all the nine years of James' abuse that Triton had orgasmed, because the older man had known rightly that it would increase the chances of him getting caught if Triton was making noise. So he made it too painful to be pleasurable for Triton. 'It was only that once,' Triton pleaded with the voice. 'Just that once. Never before, never after. Just that once . . .'

"Triton? Triton, wake up." Triton opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing his face. He'd fallen asleep again. Cathrine set a tray of food on his lap, then touched his cheek again. "Another bad dream?"

Triton picked up the fork and took a bite of food to avoid answering, gaze locked on the plate. "Mm."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Triton was silent, then set his fork down. "It wasn't either, but I did have a bad dream." He pushed the plate away and pulled his knees up to his chest, holding them there with both arms. "I don't want to go back to school," he said softly.

Cathrine sighed. "Triton, you know you need the education. Why do you want to leave?"

"Because . . . because I don't want to see . . ."

"Is it that Quatre person?" Triton nodded silently. "Can't you avoid them?"

'He's my psychology teacher.' "Quatre is in my psychology class."

"Oh." Cathrine was silent for a moment. "Triton, you know how much you need to stay in college, don't you?" Triton nodded. "How badly do you not want to see Quatre?"

"Quatre triggered my nightmare last night."

Cathrine covered her eyes. "All right, here's the deal. You can stay home for a week. Next Monday you go back, all right? We'll try to figure something out between now and then. Does that sound good?"

"No, but I guess it's the best I'll get." Triton unfolded and touched Cathrine's cheek gently. "Thank you, Cathy."

His sister smiled. "Oh, it's all right. Just . . . go back on Monday."

"I will."

"I know." Cathrine stood and tossed Triton a shirt. "Now get up. If you're going to stay home, you're going to work. That flip of yours is looking a little shabby these day."

Triton smiled slightly and shook his head. "Yes, Cathrine."

* * *

Something was different when Quatre walked into his classroom, and he frowned as he tried to figure it out. He'd remembered everything, he didn't have any pre-class appointments . . . pre-class appointments . . . He looked around, frown deepening. Triton Bloom wasn't there. That in itself was odd, because Triton was always there before class.

'Hm. Maybe he found a friend or two. Having friends would do that boy wonders.' He sighed and set his briefcase down, wondering why he was disappointed that Triton wasn't there. 'God, you'd think I'm in love with him.' He snorted softly, then pulled up the birth records he'd saved, trying to find out more about his mysterious student. It wasn't until the final bell rang that Quatre realized Triton wasn't going to be there, and that made him worry. 'He's never missed a day, even when he wasn't feeling well. Did something happen?' "Ah, class, please calm down. Ms. Schbeiker, I don't care if you almost got laid last night or not, sit down. Maxwell, keep your shirt on. Everyone is well aware of how attractive you are, don't rub it in." He rubbed his eyes. "This is psychology, not sex ed." This was also going to be a long day. Quatre stifled a yawn and glanced at the clock. This was going to be a very long day.

A forever later the final bell rang, releasing the eighth and last class of the day. Quatre sank into his chair, then glanced at his cell phone. Should he call the circus? A student missing class wasn't that odd, but not if that student was Triton. Curiosity ate at him, but he decided to give it a day or two. If Triton wasn't back by Wednesday, then he'd call. The door opened and Quatre looked up, smiling slightly at Heero.

"Don't you have a job?"

Heero snorted. "Relena made me take a break."

"Ah. Weren't you sleeping with the Queen at one point?"

A short bark of laughter was Heero's reply. "No, though not for lack of her trying. Dorothy Catalonia, yes, but Relena?" He shook his head. "Hardly. We're too much the same to get along as anything but casual lovers, and neither of us are the casual type."

"Oh. Sorry if I offended you." Heero shook his head again, moving down the aisle. "When did you meet Sylvia Noventa?"

"During the war. I killed her grandfather, remember?"

"Mm, yes. I hadn't known that you'd met her then, though."

"Yes. She almost killed me." Heero smirked. "Then three years ago I got a call from her. She said I was taking her to lunch." He shrugged. "Who was I to tell her no? I owed her that much and more. So, I took her to lunch." He leaned against Quatre's desk and ran a hand through his unruly mop of hair. "And fell in love." He looked at Quatre out of the corner of his eye. "How's your student?"

"Which one?"

"Triton Bloom."

Quatre sighed. "Its been three weeks, Heero. I'm going out of my mind. How can I last five more weeks when I can barely keep myself from him for three?"

"Have you tried anything with him recently?"

"No, actually. Be proud of me." Quatre banged his head on his desk gently. "I want him. He's afraid of me. I keep catching him looking at me, and I don't know how to interpret those looks. I'd like to say he's interested in me, but then again, I'm a little biased that way."

"Maybe he's looking at you because you're the teacher?"

The young man glared at his companion. "Funny, Heero. Aside from that."

"Hn."

"Maybe that's why he missed school today? He doesn't want to see me? God, I feel horrible, Heero. Have you been around campus recently?" Heero nodded. "Then you've probably seen the outfits he wears. Goodness, that boy is the most popular student in the school and he doesn't even know it. Everyone who didn't want him before wants him now, regardless of their sexual preference. He's just got that . . . aura . . . about him. That mysterious, dark, brooding, suppressed sexuality aura. If he was ever made aware of his sexual appeal and made good use of it, he could have anything he wanted. Hell, I dare say even the Queen wouldn't be able to resist him." Heero started laughing, which made Quatre look up. "What? Why are you laughing?"

"You're in love with him." Heero continued to chuckle.

"What? I am not! Extreme lust, yes, I admit to that. But love? Heero, you've gone crazy."

"I hardly think so. Look at you, listen to yourself." Heero raised his voice, mimicking Quatre. "He's so sexy, I want him so much. He could sleep with the Queen if he put his mind to it." He laughed again, voice normal. "God, Quatre, and I thought I was bad."

Quatre glared at Heero, banging his fist on his desk. "Dammit, Heero, I don't love him! Why is it that all attached people want their single friends to find someone? That's what your problem is, Heero. You're in love, so you think everyone else should be in love, too. That's all it is." He sat back with a thump, picking up a pen and biting the end. "Hmph. Love."

Heero just shook his head. "Whatever. Sylvia would be planning your wedding already, instead of just telling you you're in love."

"I'm not in love!"

"Then stop protesting so much."

"I'm not protesting too much!"

Heero leaned over the desk, bringing his lips close to Quatre's. "Yes," he whispered, "you are. You're very much in love with him. So in love it shows through every action you make, every word you speak. You want to know why Triton's so edgy around you?" Quatre gulped and nodded shakily. "It's because he can feel your attraction, and it makes him nervous. He's not even in the room, and a blind man could tell that you love him. Get him in here, and I'll bet the dead would be able to tell. That's what it is, isn't, Quatre?" Heero smirked slightly, mouth brushing up against Quatre's. Quatre whimpered slightly and moved down in his chair, hoping Heero would get up. His ex-lover didn't, however. He just followed Quatre down, mouth still pressing against the Arab's. "It's not just lust. How many people have you lost sleep over that you didn't love, Quatre? Remember Jessica? Did you lose sleep over her? How about Johnathan?"

"Heero . . ."

"What?" Heero kissed Quatre gently, mouth moving from one side of Quatre's to the other. "You know I'm telling the truth, don't you?"

"Heero, please, stop. Why are you doing this?"

"Yes, Heero," a light voice asked from the doorway, "why are you doing that?" Heero's eyes went wide and he scooted back to his feet, turning slowly to face his fiancée. Sylvia Noventa was standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at Heero.

"Er, Sylvia, hello. I didn't see you." Heero walked up to his fiancée, trying to hug her.

Sylvia brushed him off. "I noticed. You didn't see me because you were busy seducing your friend." She stopped in front of Quatre and looked him over, totally ignoring Heero. "You're Quatre, I take it? Heero's ex-lover?"

Quatre swallowed sharply and nodded. "Y, yes ma'am. I didn't know Heero was going to ki---"

Sylvia laughed. "Oh, that's all right. Heero does what he wants, when he wants, and he still likes you. But he's well aware that he's mine, aren't you, Heero?"

Heero nodded. "Well aware, Sylvia."

"Good. Now what were you boys talking about before Heero tried to get himself killed?"

Quatre smiled slightly at the look on Heero's face. "Nothing much, Ms. Noventa. Just . . . a student of mine."

"Quatre's in love," was Heero's input.

"Heero! I am not!"

"Really? With your student?"

Quatre covered his face as Heero explained the situation, then Sylvia knelt next to him. He looked up into her expressive blue eyes, miserable. "Ms. Noventa---"

"Please, call me Sylvia." She smiled. "Would you like to have dinner with Heero and I tonight? I think you need to get out for a bit."

Quatre raised his eyebrows, then looked at Heero. Heero smiled slightly and shrugged. "I think I'd like that, Sylvia. Thank you."

Sylvia smiled and patted his hand. "Good. Let's go then, shall we? I know this wonderful Japanese restaurant just around the corner." She pulled Quatre up and took Heero's hand, smiling at the two men. "You know, I could start a harem at this rate."

Quatre laughed at that. "That you could, Sylvia."

* * *

Triton dropped into his bed late that night, totally exhausted. He'd deliberately worked himself to the bone today in hopes of being so wiped out that he wouldn't dream of his teacher. Two nights in a row, now, that he'd woken up from a nightmare that had started with a dream of having sex with Quatre. Triton shuddered and cursed himself mentally for even thinking about his dreams. He didn't know what to make of them, and he was reluctant to tell Cathrine about the part involving Quatre. He and his sister talked a lot more now that he'd told her what had happened to him, and she was so understanding. Still, Triton was hesitant, hesitant to admit that he wanted Quatre. He'd been molested for almost half his life, shouldn't he be afraid to have sex? Then why was he dreaming about it? Triton rolled over and looked at the clock. One-oh-four. He groaned and got up, cracking his door open.

"Mm, Hilde, Triton's in the other room . . ."

"So? I thought you liked it when I put my hand there!"

Cathrine's voice was breathless. "Well, yes, but what if he walks out?"

"It's one in the morning, Cathrine. Why's he gonna be awake?"

"Because he--oh! Oooooooh . . . He has nightmares . . . Mmm, do that again . . ."

Hilde chuckled, and Cathrine moaned softly once more. "He doesn't know I'm here, love. He'd walk into your room without knocking anyway, wouldn't he?"

"Ahhhhh . . . I'm . . . not sure . . . Hilde, keep doing that, don't stop!" Cathrine's voice took on a pleading quality and Hilde laughed softly again.

"Oh, I'll keep doing it. I'm just . . . going to use a better method. Damn, why are your clothes so hard to get off?" She cursed softly.

"I don't know. Here, let me help. That better?"

"You're wearing underwear."

Cathrine laughed. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It is when it prevents me from getting what I want! Oh, my. They come off easier than your shorts! Now, back to business . . ."

"Hilde, you're so ahhhhh! Oh, God, Hilde!" Cathrine moaned softly, and there was only a soft chuckle from Hilde.

Triton shut his door, face red as what he'd been hearing sunk in. 'My sister's having sex with my classmate on our couch. I'm never sitting on that thing again.' He lay back down and curled on his side, eyes tightly shut as he ignored the very faint sounds Cathrine and Hilde were making, then covered his head with the pillow. 'This is horrible. I should give up; there's no way I'm not going to dream about sex with Quatre after knowing what those two are doing.' He sighed in defeat and relaxed, letting himself fall inevitably to dreams of Quatre, of gentle kisses placed all over him, and of the pain of James raping him.

Soft hands held him, running over his body, and Triton let his head fall back with a sigh. James would come soon enough, and all Triton could do was enjoy what little pleasure he got out of these sequences as much as he could before his past rose up with a vengeance.

"Why do you let him haunt you?"

Triton looked up into Quatre's serious blue-green eyes, startled. "Wh-what?"

Quatre tilted his head down to kiss the base of Triton's throat lightly. "I said, why do you let him haunt you?"

'This isn't real. You can't talk to your dream.' Triton closed his eyes, frowning. Was he going crazy?

"It's as real as you make it, Triton." Quatre slid his right hand down Triton's chest, the other cupping Triton's cheek gently. "Not as real as I'd like, but hey, it's your dream."

Triton shook his head, trying to think. "B-but, you can't do this in dreams . . ."

"Can't you?" His hand resting on Triton's hip and fingers curled inward, Quatre smiled. "Your dreams are your subconscious, Triton. They tell you things you normally wouldn't figure out on your own."

Triton sat up, which moved Quatre's hand to his thigh. The Arab smiled tolerantly. "What do you mean? My subconscious is giving me these dreams to tell me I want you to have sex with me? I think I figured that out on my own."

"You're so talkative, Triton. I never knew." Quatre sighed and moved next to Triton, putting an arm around his waist. "What I mean is that maybe these dreams are trying to tell you something else. Great; you want to be my lover. I want to be yours. Tell me and we can get together sometime, see if it works out. In the meantime, this dream is always followed by one of James. What I want to know is why? Why do you let James haunt you like that?"

"I can't stop it," Triton whispered, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't make him go away."

"Why not?" Quatre's voice was soft. "Why not just tell him to leave? Or maybe, it's not James that you're dreaming of."

"What?"

"What do you remember most about the dreams, Triton?"

The younger man gulped, eyes darting from side to side. "P, pain. Fear. Him telling me I'm a slut, that I'm not worth anything."

"Ah-ha. I think that's the problem right there. I think you're afraid to give yourself to someone because you think it will hurt, and you've got a bad self-esteem problem. Am I right?" Triton nodded minutely. "Then why don't you let me help?"

"How?"

Quatre smiled. "Let me love you. Let me show you there's nothing to fear, and that you mean the world to me."

"How do I do that?"

Quatre laughed softly. "Simple. Trust me, let me show you that your body isn't the only thing I'm after."

"Quatre, how?" Triton put his hand on Quatre's chest, eyes pleading with his teacher.

"Like this," Quatre murmured, pulling the covers up to their chins and tugging Triton close. Triton lay his head on the Arab's chest as Quatre gently stroked the emerald-eyed youth's hair, then gradually relaxed until sleep overtook him and his eyes closed.