Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Final Grade ❯ Chapter 10

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Title: Final Grade
Chapter: 10/?
Warnings: Kinda-but-not-quite-OC, nifty plot twists
Disclaimers: Gundam Wing, its characters, and its settings are not mine, nor am I making any money from this story. GW is copyright Bandai/Sunrise/etc. and is used without permission, for entertainment purposes only. Amir, however, is mine, and may not be used without my permission.
Thanks: Guilherme S. Töws
Dedication: For Maya. Happy (late) birthday, baby!

Cathrine was crying. Normally Triton would be concerned and try to comfort her, but she'd been crying since she woke up and the circus was about to leave. The young woman alternately clung to Triton and then to Hilde, sobbing into both loved one's shoulders.

"Kate . . . Come on, Kate, let go. You're getting me wet." He pushed gently at his sister, who only latched on to Hilde.

"I'm leaving. Why do we have to go? I'll never see you again, Hilde! My baby brother's not coming with us . . ." She took a huge breath and burst into fresh tears.

Hilde wasn't faring much better. She clung to Cathrine and sobbed with her lover, promising to write and call and visit as often as she could. Triton was getting a headache and very gratefully escaped to welcome Amir and Quatre as they pulled up in the Python.

"Between them wailing and you, I'd rather be around you," Triton muttered as Quatre got out.

The blond looked at his student and raised an eyebrow, analyzing the statement before cautiously deciding it was a compliment. "Thank you." He watched as Amir started darting around, ignoring the loose-fitting sweater that left Triton's left shoulder bare. "Be careful, Amir."

The small boy skidded to a halt and looked back at his father, then darted into Triton's arms. "Why are those two crying?"

"They're in love and Cathrine's going with the circus."

"Why doesn't Cathrine stay? Why can't Aunt Hilde go with her?"

"Because Hilde needs to finish school and Cathrine works with the circus."

"Why doesn't the circus stay?"

"They don't do that."

"Why not?"

Quatre intervened, placing one hand on Amir's back as Triton held him. "Amir, calm down. The circus is going, Hilde is staying, and Triton's going to come home with us. That's all there is to it."

The small child looked like he was going to say more, but Triton caught the eye of the new lion keeper. The man was walking one of the males and brought the lion over to the trio.

"Amir, this is Sanna. He's the new lion keeper. This is Signy, one of the males." Amir's eyes got wide and he froze, staring down at the beast. Triton smiled. "Want to touch him?" He held out one hand and let Signy smell it, then started stroking his mane.

"Mm, may I?" Amir was whispering, looking at Quatre.

"Of course. He's very nice." Kneeling, Triton took one of Amir's hands and showed the boy how to pet Signy. The old lion took the attention calmly, sniffing at Amir's hair. Amir seemed to fall in love with Signy and promptly told Quatre that he was going to be a lion-tamer when he grew up.

"Before or after you become Queen of the World?" Quatre responded in amusement.

"Before! Then I can have lions and no one will mess with me!"

Triton frowned, wondering if he'd heard right. "Queen of the . . . World? Queen of the World?"

Quatre chuckled and knelt next to the two, reaching out to pet the lion as well. "Amir informed me last night that he wants to be Queen of the World. Not King, because girls are prettier than boys and Relena is really nice."

Triton scratched his head and raised one eyebrow, then shrugged. "Oh." Amir turned and kept petting Signy with one hand, grabbing Triton's hand with the other and moving it around. The young man didn't pay attention to that; he was too busy watching for signs that the lion was getting annoyed at the attention. It wasn't until Amir got bored and wandered to one of the trapeze girls and he and Quatre stood up that both men realized Amir had twined their fingers together.

There was a brief, startled pause while it dawned on Triton and Quatre what had happened, then Triton tried to jerk his hand out of Quatre's grasp. Quatre resisted, tightening his grip on Triton's hand. He relented when Triton turned a vicious glare on him, not wanting to cause a scene, but damn, Triton's touch had sent shocks throughout his system. Being near Triton was a sensory overload, rendering Quatre helpless but to beg for more.

After prying Cathrine and Hilde apart, Triton, Quatre and Amir left. The only way they'd gotten the two women to let go of each other was to point out that the circus would be late if the pair didn't part. Amidst vows of undying love and devotion the three males drove off, all of them grateful to get away from the unhappy women. Amir relinquished the front seat to Triton and the brunette sat as close to the door as he could, propping his chin in his hand and staring out the window. He was trying not to think. Then a thought occurred to him and he turned his face slightly to Quatre.

"What levels of psychology do you teach?"

"All levels." Quatre didn't look at Triton. He might forget that Amir was in the car and that Triton hated him if he did, and kiss the boy regardless.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five."

Triton thought a moment, adding up the years. "How can you possibly be a psychology teacher when you're only twenty-five? Not to mention you were in the---" He shut up abruptly, pursing his lips. Mentioning the wars might not be a good idea.

"Wars?" Quatre finished for him, a smile tugging one corner of his mouth up. "I have a photographic memory. I didn't use to have one, so it's probably an aftereffect of the ZERO System."

A photographic memory . . . Triton swallowed sharply and looked out the window again. If Quatre had a photographic memory, then he remembered everything from the party. And that meant . . .

"I try not to think about it, Triton," Quatre murmured. "I know you don't want me to." There was a long, uncomfortable silence before Amir started talking.

"You know what I think? I think Uncle Wufei and Aunt Relena are going to get married. I think that Uncle Duo and Aunt Mariemaia are going to get married, too, and I know Uncle Heero and Aunt Sylvia are!" When Triton and Quatre looked back, Amir's brow was furrowed in concentration and he was carefully counting on his fingers. "Uncle Trowa is too scary to get married, but he might marry Aunt Dorothy. Aunt Hilde will marry Miss Cathrine, I'm sure of it. Aunt Une . . . I don't know who she can marry. Maybe Aunt Une can marry Aunt Iria?"

Quatre couldn't help but chuckle. "Child, Trowa and Une aren't going to be marrying anyone any time soon. Aunt Dorothy has no plans to marry, either, and Aunt Iria is already married."

"But what about Aunt Relena and Uncle Wufei? And Uncle Duo and Aunt Mariemaia?"

"Duo and Mariemaia certainly want to get married now, and are planning on it if they still love each other when Mariemaia turns eighteen. And I hardly think that Wufei and Relena know each other well enough to get married, or even fall in love."

"Because having sex doesn't mean you love someone," Amir murmured sadly.

Quatre shot him a sharp look in the rearview mirror, his gaze catching Triton's as both men turned back to the front when Amir didn't say anything else. There was pain and confusion in those eyes, longing and fear and a dreadful uncertainty. He knew that he had enjoyed that night, knew he wanted more of it, but it had been wrong. He'd been drunk and he hadn't realized it and now everything was a mess. The carefully built-up relationship had collapsed, maybe with no hope of rebuilding it. But now he was going to be living with him, so perhaps they had a chance.

Amir had to sense the awkward situation, because he started being extra cheery. He named off all the people he loved, which was a considerable amount, and how much he loved them. Quatre, his mother and Triton were at the top of the list. By the time the child had run out of people he loved they'd arrived at Quatre's house, and he jumped out of the Python and struggled to open Triton's door, grinning brightly.

"Oh, Miss Triton, this will be wonderful! Won't it be? You and me and Father and why is Uncle Wufei trying to kill Aunt Relena?!" Amir's eyes were big and he was pointing frantically.

Quatre looked up. Wufei had Relena against the balcony of his room, hands gripping her shoulders as he kissed her. She was bent at an odd angle over the balcony, and to a child it would look as if the Chinese man was trying to kill her. The Arab covered a smile. "Amir, he's not trying to kill her. They're kissing."

"Ewwwwww! Stop that! That's icky!" Amir shouted it to the pair and they both jumped, looking over the balcony. Quatre's son was glaring up at them. "Girls have cooties, Uncle Wufei! Don't kiss them!"

Relena started laughing and leaned back against Wufei, waving to the three on the ground. "You'll like girls eventually, Amir-chan!"

"Nu-uh! I'm gonna be like Miss Triton and only like boys!" The silence that followed that statement was nearly defeaning. All four adults stared at Amir in shock as he looked around, eyes wide and innocent. "W-what? Did I do something wrong?" He walked to Quatre and looked up at his father, tugging at his shirt gently. "Father? What did I do? Isn't it all right if I like just boys?" His sea blue eyes widened again. "Oh, I need to have an heir, don't I? Well, can't I just---"

"No, child," Quatre interrupted him, kneeling and holding Amir close, "no. That's not it. Look, Amir, why don't you go play? I'll talk with you later about this, all right?" Wufei and Relena had disappeared into the house and Triton was still staring at Amir, dumbfounded. Amir sighed and trudged off with one last glance at Triton. Quatre stayed kneeling, head bowed as he tried to think of something, anything, to say. "Are you offended?" was the only thing he could think of.

Triton swallowed sharply and turned away, crossing his arms over his stomach. He'd never thought about his sexuality and Amir had just thrown it in his face, in front of not only his history teacher and the Queen, but Quatre as well. He was silent for a long time and Quatre didn't press. Finally, he sighed. "Amir's a child. Children say things without thinking or knowing if they're true or not." He moved to the rear of the Python and tapped his fingers impatiently against the trunk, wanting to get the few things he hadn't already moved to Quatre's out and to his room.

'You're either screwing with me or telling me you may be heterosexual,' Quatre grumped to himself. 'I doubt you are, but who am I to say anything?' He sighed and stood, moving next to his student and frowning a bit. Triton was leaning against the trunk, right in front of the key lock. The blond raised the keys he held in his hand and looked at Triton. "Excuse me." Triton looked down and to the side, shifting only to rest his hands behind him at the small of his back. This tilted his hips forward slightly, but he didn't seem to notice. Quatre sighed. "I need to unlock the trunk and you're in the way. Excuse me, or I'll have to reach around you." Still Triton said nothing. The Arab licked his lips briefly and pressed them together in a tight line. "I don't think you'll like that, Triton." When he didn't get an answer, he shook his head and leaned forward, sliding his hands into the small space between his student and his car. He fumbled with the keys a bit, partly because he couldn't see where to put them and partly because he kept brushing up against Triton's hands.

Triton shifted a little more, pressing his hips slightly against Quatre's as he tried not to think about what he was doing. The young man tilted his head up a bit and more to the side. He fixed his gaze firmly on the weeping willow in Quatre's front yard and wet his lips. Both of Quatre's arms were around him and touching him, then the trunk unlatched and the top rose up, obscuring the two men from view of the house. Triton settled on the edge of the trunk with his legs open just enough for Quatre to fit between them. He let his breath out in a shuddering rush when Quatre did move between his legs, but the blond was only gathering his two bags. Gathering two bags didn't take as much body contact as Quatre was putting into the effort, but Triton didn't complain. It felt . . . nice. He liked it. He narrowed his eyes because he shouldn't like it, shouldn't like it at all, but that didn't change the fact that he did like it.

"Droga*," he cursed softly in Portuguese. His body wasn't his own to command as he rested his forehead against Quatre's shoulder, eyes closing. There was a moment when both men trembled, but that moment passed and slowly, slowly Triton felt Quatre tighten his arms around the Latin man's waist, holding him. "Droga," he cursed again. Triton didn't know if Quatre knew Portuguese, but it didn't really matter, did it? Try as he might to hide it, he still wanted Quatre. He could deny it to himself and others all he wanted, but he did things like this, deliberately putting himself in positions where Quatre had to touch him, then not moving. Triton listened to Quatre's slightly rough breath in his ear and felt both their hearts pounding, knowing that the reason Quatre was tense was because the blond was waiting for him to push away and perhaps curse his teacher. Triton held still, testing his limits.

His neck was smooth, inviting the touch of slightly wet lips. Triton tensed momentarily when Quatre settled his mouth against his neck. The Arab paused and waited for his student to relax before he moved his lips gently over Triton's skin, his hands shaking as they gripped the young man by the waist and pulled their bodies closer. He didn't know how long this moment was going to last and so he would enjoy it to the fullest extent that he could, tucking away the memory of it to savor later. Quatre considered his photographic memory both a blessing and a curse, allowing him to remember Triton's sweet kisses even as it taunted him with the crystal-clear memory of what he couldn't have.

"Triton . . ." With his hands under the boy's shirt and their mouths pressed together, Quatre decided on a new tactic. If Triton wanted to be kissed, he could ask for it. The young blond pulled back, taking deep breaths as he picked up his student's bags and stepped away from Triton.

"Wha---"

"You hate me, remember?" Quatre reminded him, watching with satisfaction the angry flush that crept up Triton's face. He'd forgotten. Good. "Besides that, I'm your teacher and I'm not supposed to do anything but teach you psychology." He shrugged. "I like my job. I'd rather not lose it." Dropping all willful physical contact with Triton wasn't going to be easy, but that was what Duo was for. Quatre winced slightly at that thought as he walked into the house, leaving an open-mouthed Triton still sitting on the edge of the trunk. But Duo didn't seem to mind. In fact, he jumped Quatre about as much as Quatre jumped him, so the young teacher thought it fair trade. He looked up and smiled as Mariemaia wheeled herself out of the house. "Good afternoon, 'Rie."

"Bah, humbug," the girl muttered, head low as she went past Quatre.

"Something wrong?"

"I'd be surprised if something wasn't." After a moment the young woman let loose. "God, Uncle Trowa's being an ass and Aunt Une isn't here to control him so I'm stuck with him being my shadow, Wufei and Relena and Heero and Sylvia are being hormonal and so are you and Triton but do I get to be hormonal with anyone but my fingers? Nooooo!" Mariemaia shuddered as she stared at the willow tree that Triton had been watching. "Plus I started my period early and bloody underwear is bad, but a bloody wheelchair just blows hardcore."

Quatre flushed slightly. He really didn't want to hear about menstruation. "Ah, well . . . You shouldn't use that sort of language, 'Rie. It's not befitting a young lady."

"I'm not a young lady. I'm a frigging cripple."

His heart went out to the girl and Quatre knelt by her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Look, 'Rie . . . I don't know what it's like to not be able to walk. I can't tell you that it's not that bad. I know that physical therapy hasn't been working for you, but don't give up hope. Even if you never walk again, you've got people who love you anyway and don't care if you can walk or not."

"I used to dance," she murmured. "I used to dance to anything. If I was watching someone make repairs on something and they had even a vague beat going, I'd dance to it. I can't do that anymore. I can't. Even if I wanted to, I can't do a damned thing with my legs. I can't run to greet the people I love, I can't swim without help, nothing. Do you get that? I'm useless. Useless."

"'Rie, you're not useless."

Mariemaia snorted. "Yeah? Tell me one way I'm helpful. One single way."

"You're intelligent, pretty, you make Duo smile---"

"If I hit him, Duo would smile."

Quatre covered a chuckle and hugged Mariemaia. "Maybe. But he does love you and he doesn't think you're worthless."

"Well . . ." The young girl considered for a moment then sighed as her shoulders slumped in defeat. "You know, Uncle Quatre, I really hate it when you don't let me pity myself. Really."

That made Quatre smile. "A little pity never hurt, but you need to know when to pity yourself and when not to."

"Don't you dare go psychologist on me, Quatre Raberba Winner!" Mariemaia glared at him, arms crossing over her chest.

Quatre merely chuckled and kissed her forehead before going inside and tripping over Amir's toys. After calling his son to put them away he shrugged out of his overcoat and hung it up, then took a deep breath and smiled. Wufei was cooking Chinese. Wonderful. He slipped his shoes off and loosened his tie, wandering toward the kitchen. Standing at the door, he smiled at the scene before him.

Relena was standing behind the island counter in the center of the kitchen, frowning slightly as she stared at the vegetables in front of her. Wufei was behind her with his arms around the young woman, slicing the vegetables swiftly. His chin rested in the crook of her neck and she was leaning back against him, watching his hands move. The Chinese man was murmuring softly in her ear as he worked, a slight smile on his lips. All in all, it was a very loving, cozy scene. Quatre hated to ruin it, so he turned and made his way upstairs.

"Aiya! Quatre!" Sylvia rushed into his arms, nearly knocking him down. Heero was right behind her, eyes narrowed as he chased his fiancée. Sylvia swung herself around so she was behind Quatre, hiding. "Save me! He's going to get me, Quatre, he's going to torture me and make me miserable!"

"Uhm, what . . ." The young Arab faced his former lover, searching Heero's face for signs that he was angry. No, Heero wasn't angry. Heero had a smirk on his face that didn't bode well for Sylvia, though. Quatre rolled his eyes. "Heero, no tickling."

"Mind your own business, Winner," the Japanese man growled. That growl sent shivers up Quatre's spine and he felt Sylvia shudder behind him. "Sylvia needs to be disciplined."

"That sounded very lewd, you know." Heero's bark of laughter was followed by him pulling Quatre against him and kissing the blond roughly, one hand cupping his ass.

"H-hey!" Quatre didn't have the time to worry about Sylvia possibly smacking him, or Heero, or both of them. He did his best not to kiss Heero back, not to enjoy the kiss, but it was a losing battle. Just as Quatre started to respond, Heero let him go and snatched Sylvia by the arm.

"AIY! You fight dirty!" She struggled against him, beating her hands on his chest. "Damn you! Let me go!"

Heero laughed and kissed Sylvia firmly before backing her against the wall and pinning her hands above her head with one of his own. The free hand trailed down her sides, pressing in gently at certain points. In moments Sylvia was shrieking with laugher, tossing her head and struggling wildly to be free.

Quatre laughed softly and shook his head, then headed to his son's room. Amir was there, staring forlornly at the model of Sandrock that Relena had given him as he clung to the huge stuffed camel that had been Mariemaia's birthday gift. The Arab man sighed and leaned in the doorway. "Amir?"

Amir looked up, startled, and then looked away from his father. "You can come in," he murmured.

Quatre did, sitting next to his son on the floor. He cleared his throat, wondering where to begin. "Amir . . . sometimes . . . sometimes . . ." He flushed, not knowing how to put this. Finally, "Look, son. That wasn't appropriate outside, what you said. I know you didn't mean anything by it, but . . . Never assume that you know something about someone unless they tell you. Triton may like girls, for all you know. And even if he only likes men, he hasn't come out and said it. Not to my knowledge, at least. He may not even know it himself."

The young child's lips were pursed, his brows knit together in a frown. "How can Triton not know which gender she likes?"

"He," Quatre corrected absently. "It's difficult, admitting something like that to yourself. It took me a long time to be able to admit that I was attracted to men as well as women. In our society, loving someone of your own gender isn't that well accepted. It's ignored, but when thrown in people's faces . . . Well. And Triton's not comfortable with any sort of relationship other than a purely platonic one. Even then he has problems. And . . ."

"Having sex didn't make Triton better, did it?"

He pulled his child close, hugging him tightly until Amir squeaked. Quatre loosened his grip and kissed his son's hair. "No, it didn't. It . . . it made everything worse."

"Does Triton hate you, now?"

"He says he does."

Amir frowned and slid his arms around his father's neck, resting his cheek on the Arab's shoulder. "Well . . . Will he ever stop hating you? You didn't . . . you didn't make him have sex with you, did you?"

"No, Amir, I didn't. But . . . but Triton was drunk and I didn't know that. Triton, however, thinks that I knew and slept with him anyway. So right now he doesn't like me at all."

"But if he doesn't like you, why is he living with us?"

Quatre shrugged. "It's cheaper than finding an apartment, he didn't have time to find an apartment, and he knew that I couldn't tell him no."

"Will he ever love you?"

That made Quatre shrug again. "I don't know. Before your party . . . I think he cared, before your party. I think he was opening up, but then he got drunk and I ruined everything I'd worked for. I've tried to apologize, but Triton just needs some time to himself to think this over and decide what he thinks is the best thing to do. Amir . . . Do you understand?"

"I think. Triton was falling in love with you, then he got drunk and you two slept together. He's mad because he was drunk and thought you knew he was. Right?"

Quatre nodded. "That's exactly it."

"And he doesn't know if he likes girls and boys, or just girls or just boys, and he doesn't want to think about it?"

Holding his son tightly, Quatre nodded again. "I'm proud to have you as my son, Amir."

"I'm proud to be your son." Amir sighed heavily. "Am I in trouble?"

"Not with me. You might want to talk with Triton, though."

"Okay." Amir stood and kissed his father's cheek before heading purposefully out of the room. Quatre watched him leave with a soft, sad smile on his face, then he stood and went to grade papers.

* * *

Triton was unpacking his clothing when a soft knock at his door made him look up. He went into the living area of what Quatre called a room but what Triton called a hotel suite, stopping in the middle. "Who is it?"

"It's Amir. May I come in, please?"

Triton sighed. He didn't want to talk to anyone, but he couldn't say no to the child. "Come in."

The door creaked open and then Amir's sea-blue eyes peered up at Triton. "Uhm, Miss Triton . . ."

"I'm not a girl, Amir." Triton headed for his bedroom and Amir followed.

"I'm sorry. Triton . . . I'm sorry about outside. I . . . I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

The Latin man looked at the Arab boy sitting on his bed, swinging his legs absently while looking down, and his shoulders slumped. "It doesn't matter anymore, Amir. But thank you. I . . . I'm not mad at you."

"Really?" The child looked up, hope lighting his face.

"Really." Triton smiled at him, then knelt and caught Amir in his arms when the small boy jumped off the bed and raced toward him.

"I love you, Triton," Amir whispered in his ear.

Triton swallowed and blinked away the tears in his eyes, nodding. "I love you, too, Amir," he whispered back.

Amir pulled back, eyes wide. "How much? This much?" He held his hands about a foot apart.

Triton shook his head. "More."

"This much?" The child stretched his arms out as far as they would go.

"More."

"This much?" Standing on his tiptoes, Amir stretched and stretched, face in a grimace as he tried to make his arms go further out.

Triton chuckled. "I love you more than that, even."

"To the end of the room?"

"Farther."

"The colony?"

Again Triton chuckled, ruffling Amir's hair. "That's about right. Maybe more."

"Wow!" Sea-blue eyes were wide. "I love you that much, too! But . . . how much do you love Father?"

That froze Triton. He swallowed, then shook his head. "I don't."

"Not this much?" Again Amir's arms were held straight out to either side of his body.

"No."

"This much?" His hands were maybe half a foot apart as Amir looked at Triton earnestly.

Triton sighed and shook his head, smoothing out his plaid gray and green skirt. "No. I don't love Quatre."

"Not even this much? Just a little? A teeny weeny bit?" Amir held his thumb and index finger up, squinting his eyes as he brought them as close together as he could without them touching. The look on his face was enough to make Triton nod.

"All right. I love him that much. But not any more than that."

Amir's whole face lit up and he squealed, throwing himself on Triton once more. "Oh, Miss Triton, I mean Triton, I'm so glad! I knew you loved Father, I knew it!" He danced around, then kissed Triton's cheek before dashing out of the room. Once he found Quatre he attached himself to his father's leg, laughing. "He loves you, Father! He loves you! He told me he did!"

Quatre looked down at his son with a frown. "Who loves me? Who told you?"

"Triton! He told me he loves you! He loves you this much!" Amir held his fingers as close together as he could again, grinning at his father. "He told me that he loves you this much, but not more!"

His son's bounciness distracted Quatre. It was a moment before the words Amir spoke sunk in, then he just stared at his son. "He . . . told you that?"

"Uh-huh! I asked him how much he loved me and he said a little more than how big the colony was, and then he said he loved you this much, but not more. So see? He does love you!"

It was with tears in his eyes that Quatre held his son gently, petting his hair. "Yes, Amir. I see." The two held each other until Triton approached, not looking at Quatre.

"Do I need to tell you when I'm going out?"

"Well . . ." Much as Quatre would have liked to know when and where Triton was going, he couldn't make the young man do that. "No. You're rooming here. As long as you don't throw parties, don't take drugs, don't drink excessively, and . . . Well, you get the point. I trust you. I'll get an extra set of keys made tomorrow."

"Thank you." Triton nodded to Quatre and smiled slightly at Amir before walking off. Cathrine had given him their car, which now proved to be a boon. He didn't want to ask Quatre for anything. With a sigh the young man headed to the library with two of the books he'd checked out. He'd finished them and didn't want them near him any longer than necessary. They were useful, yes, but they were painful to read. Triton shook his head and turned the radio on loud in order to drown out his thoughts.

Once at the library Triton didn't look at the librarian on duty as he turned the books in before browsing through the books. He relaxed gradually and soon he was curled up on one of the couches, feet tucked beneath him as he devoured one of his favorite novels. It was high fantasy, involving elves and humans and all sorts of magical creatures. Triton was so absorbed in the book that he didn't notice the man in front of him until he spoke.

"Well, if it isn't Triton."

"Ah!" The young man jerked around, fell off the couch and landed on his rump as his startled shout echoed through the library. For a moment, everyone was frozen, staring at him, and he started blushing.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have startled you." The man that he had met the last time he'd been at the library held out his hand to help Triton up. "Come on. I'm sorry, I really am." His smile was charming, made more so by its sincerity and the way it reached his eyes. Once more Triton was taken by the man's resemblance to Heero. He swallowed several times before hesitantly accepting the offered hand. He was pulled up quickly. "Now, I don't suppose you remember me."

"Your name's Ralph," Triton murmured. He smoothed down his pleated skirt and tugged at his sweater, looking down and to the side.

"You're so beautiful . . ." When Triton looked up with wide eyes, Ralph apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. After all, I don't know you at all, much less where your preferences reside . . . But you are beautiful, make no mistake about that."

"No, you didn't offend me. You just . . . startled me. I . . . I don't get told that often," Triton finished softly. To his dismay he was flushed from the man's compliment. "Uhm . . . Would you like to sit down?" He smiled a bit nervously and gestured to the couch he'd been sitting on. When he did, he noticed that Ralph was still holding his hand and his stomach fluttered. 'If my hormones don't go away I think I'm going to shoot myself. I'm not supposed to be hormonal. But God, is he gorgeous . . .'

Seemingly unaware of Triton's hormone dilemma, Ralph sat and patted the spot next to him. "Would it be terribly cliched to ask if you come here often?"

"Very." The Latin man took the offered seat and picked his book up, staring in near-horror at it. He'd lost his place.

"Well, then, I won't ask. But I'm dying to know how often you're here so I can purposefully bump into you on accident. So if you'd oblige me, I'd be very thankful."

'Who is this guy?' Triton wondered, giving Ralph an almost offended look. "Do you always hit on strangers you meet at the library?"

His companion shrugged. "Only if they're attractive. I'll stop if you want me to, really. Or you can tell me how often you don't come here so I know if I have to find other places to purposefully bump into you on accident." He picked a piece of fuzz off of Triton's shoulder and smiled at him, leaning slightly toward the younger man.

Triton flushed again and gave a short, soft laugh as he stood and held his novel to his chest. He couldn't stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he responded. "Well, you can purposefully bump into me on accident most every day in the afternoons."

"Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Triton was edging toward the check-out counter. "Before you go, two things. First, you wouldn't happen to have a significant other, would you? It would be just my luck to hit on someone else's property."

Triton laughed softly and held his lower lip between his teeth as he shook his head. "No, no one. What's the second thing?"

With a large smile Ralph took a notepad from his shirt pocket and opened it, reaching for a pencil on the nearby table before scribbling something on the paper. He handed it to a mystified Triton, winking. "Call me."

With a disbelieving laugh Triton took the paper and tucked it in the book he held, licking his lips as he nodded. "I will," he promised, then turned and hurried to the check-out counter, glancing back before he left. Ralph was still lounging on the couch with one arm across the back of it, watching. He gave Triton a half-wave, half-salute and Triton ducked his head with a smile as he left the building.

*Damn, but literally, "drug" in Portuguese.