Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ I Got Game! ❯ The Closer I Get To You ( Chapter 19 )

Alternate Universe, Sci-Fi? Sporty, Some Events Based On Authoress's own experiences....(wee! Basketball!)

Standard Disclaimers Apply: Don't own Gundam Wing, but I own every original character that emerges...Don't own the songs listed with the chapters, either...

Pairings: 4x3/3x4, 1+2, 5xM & various others...

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<= means scene change

A/N: And...I'm...AWAKE! Hooray! I was like, whoah...er. Never mind. I tend to ramble while I'm going through withdrawals from shakenbake porkchops...ignore the weirdo. Okay, much apologies go to those that either live in Laramie or know of Laramie, because I used whatever info I could find about that place, and, frankly, the effect isn't the same if you haven't been there. Er...lemon alert.~_^! On ward HOoooooo!

Chapter Nineteen~

"The Closer I Get To You" = Beyonce Knowles

Trowa took a deep breath, and reached into his knapsack, withdrawing the prettily wrapped package that Felicia had given him as part of her earlier assignment. Quatre was on the floor, busily working on some work from their last day of class before winter break, so he wasn't paying too much attention to the goth. The pair of them were holed up in Trowa's room, as Trowa felt that it was much too private in Quatre's room to concentrate on their studies. Too much temptation to concentrate on other things. Duo had left for his hometown of New York City after yesterday's game, so Trowa had the room basically all to himself. It was during this weekend when it seemed that the school's population just dropped, due to many of the residents leaving to visit their families through the planet and galaxy. The halls were definitely emptier, and without the loudness that it usually held when everyone was out and about.

Their friends had gone their own directions, and while Trowa didn't remember who had gone where, he supposed they were having fun doing what they were doing. His own activity having already been planned, he felt a wave of anxiety as he wondered if he was going the right thing. He paused, looking at the shiny blue paper that covered the box, and looked at the blond again. He wasn't sure if Quatre would quite accept the gift, or if this was the right choice to make. His second thoughts were somewhat annoying, because he'd had so much confidence before-he knew Quatre was homesick and really wanted to go home. He knew the blond was definitely disappointed that his father wouldn't allow him to go back to Wyoming over Christmas Break, so this was surely a big step.

Tongue in cheek, Trowa eyed the way Quatre's hair was mussed from constantly running his fingers through it, the way his love was concentrating on making up all the work that he'd missed simply because he was too lazy to concentrate on homework. His teachers had given him makeup work to do over the Break so that he was able to pass his classes. His grades were simply too atrocious to let them alone, but he passed with enough points to keep himself on the team. It wasn't that Quatre was stupid-he was just lazy when it came to actually completing the work. Trowa wanted to hit him over the head for making such simple mistakes and fucking up his average, but then he figured it would be useless because Quatre had confessed it had been the same way back home.

Trowa took a deep breath and tossed the package to him, startling the blond as he shifted his eyes from his notebook to the package that rested haphazardly before him. He looked up at Trowa with a confused expression.

"Early Christmas present," he said on a shrug.

"Really? Er...um...." Quatre slowly sat up, eyeing the package with much thought. Trowa watched him closely, waiting for rejection. But the blond picked it up and slowly unwrapped it, revealing the plain white box. With a curious expression, he opened it and stilled upon seeing a plane ticket and fake ID. Then he looked up at Trowa, looking simply stunned.

Trowa shrugged again. "I know you wanted to go home, Quat. So I arranged it."

Quatre opened and shut his mouth several times, carefully withdrawing the plane ticket, ID and other information. As he looked through them, Trowa shifted off the bed and sat next to him, taking the passport and a copy of the parental permission form that Felicia had arranged on Ramid's 'behalf'. Quatre dropped his hands into his lap, looking at Trowa with that stunned expression.

"I leave on the twentieth? Trowa, that's Monday!" he exclaimed. "Tomorrow!"

"Yeah..."

"What-? How-?"

Trowa smiled easily. "I have my connections, remember?"

"But....Trowa..." Quatre trailed off, looking at the plane ticket, then at Trowa again. "I...but admin-!"

"Don't even worry about them. They already know we're leaving."

Quatre paused and looked at him closely, fiddling with the box that had held his ticket. "'We're'?"

Trowa nodded firmly and waited for him to argue. "We."

Quatre stared at him for a few moments, then looked back at the plane ticket and ID. "'Justin Nelly'? You didn't make up these names, did you?" he asked with a face, and Trowa noticed with a rather cheery smile that Quatre hadn't argue about him tagging along. In fact, Quatre had seemed to accept it with nothing more than a shrug.

"No."

Fingering the ID, Quatre frowned hard, tapping it against the ticket. Then he dropped it all into his lap and wrapped his arms around Trowa's neck in a fierce hug that was very out of character for him. Trowa was surprised at this, lamely patting the blond's back.

"Thank you," he heard Quatre's voice against his neck, very small and somewhat choked with emotion. The thought that this was a good thing made Trowa grin broadly, and he returned the hug.

"And you don't have to worry, Quat. I promise right now that I will tone down my appearance," Trowa said on a sigh. "I really don't know what to expect, but by your early reaction to me, I really don't want you to catch any shit from your family or whatever about what I look like."

Quatre pulled his head from his neck to look directly into his face, looking ready to argue. He then licked his lips as something registered from within, and he looked away with a sheepish expression. But he didn't let go of Trowa as he looked down at the plane ticket. Trowa found a chance to rub Quatre's back with his hands, finding the move just as comforting as if he were receiving it. Quatre looked away from the ticket, then moved his head forward, pressing his lips against Trowa's with much emotion. Trowa took the kiss easily, reveling in the feel of his love against him, feeling all the 'thanks' that Quatre wasn't telling him in words.

Quatre deepened the kiss with a push of his tongue against Trowa's lips, so Trowa opened his mouth, sucking his tongue with his lips. He wrapped his arms around the blond's waist, pulling him onto his lap, and as the blond adjusted himself over him, Trowa took this opportunity to spread his hands over Quatre's ass, his fingers curling into the crevice with a light touch. Happily, he noted that Quatre gave no negative reaction to this, so that gave him permission to dip his fingers in deeper, stroking the opened crevice with one hand while he gripped one cheek with his other hand. Quatre continued to kiss him, curling his knees in to hold onto Trowa's sides, and dropped his arms in order to grip Trowa's arms with his hands. Eager to get things rolling, because this aspect in their relationship had no negative effects, Trowa shifted position, gently pushing Quatre onto his back and moving on top of him. Quatre's hands fell from his arms to shift underneath his shirt, stroking the warm skin beneath. Seeing that this wasn't going to be a quick make-out session, Trowa took the opportunity to reach between them, finding the soft member of Quatre's dick and began caressing it outside his pants.

It responded immediately to his touch, and grew firm as Trowa continued to stroke it. Quatre's lips broke away from his, panting softly as his hands grew urgent underneath Trowa's shirt, gripping and soothing the skin with his hands. He felt Trowa shift above him, settling on his knees as he continued to stroke his dick with his fingers. With an encouraging moan, he rose his hips to press against Trowa's hand, wanting more contact, more stimulation.

Encouraged by this, Trowa paused his ministrations and quickly unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled off both underwear and pants to reveal Quatre's lower half to him. Quatre shifted slightly to tug his own shirt off, Trowa following suit, eager to get naked and to feel his boyfriend's warm body against his. When they came together amid soft sighs, Trowa reveled in the feel of Quatre's privates against him, the feel of pubic hair brushing against his belly. He dropped soft kisses on his collarbone, moving slowly downward as Quatre's hands played with his hand and naked shoulders. Pausing at his navel, he pressed a kiss against the swallow dip, then blew over it, feeling Quatre's arousal against his chest, pressing insistently. With a giddy eagerness, Trowa shifted position so that he was on his knees, and pulled that now familiar dick into his mouth, wetting it very thoroughly. Hearing Quatre's soft moan, he began to suck almost frantically, an idea forming in his mind. He held his dick steady as he began to bob his head, sucking hard and slowing his pace.

Quatre's fingers pulled at his hair, his soft pants and gasps just barely audible, and Trowa figured it was probably because while they could hear others moving about outside the door, they were more than likely able to hear what was going on in here. Trowa broke his contact with Quatre's dick, hearing the blond moan softly about the sudden absence. Trowa moved up his body, dropping kisses over the quivering stomach, the toned pectorals. He settled his body over Quatre's, and shifted his arms so that he had one on each side of his head, his fingers curling through the blond locks. Quatre looked at him, looking a little puzzled about the sudden positioning.

Trowa kissed his lips, reveling in the feel of them, licking and exploring the inside of his mouth. He could feel Quatre's hard cock against his hip, and shifted his lower body so that both of his legs were straddling Quatre's hips, the blond's dick now pressing against his crevice. The feeling was both wondrous and extremely exciting, having it there. He paused in kissing his love, and stared directly into his eyes, continuing to run his fingers through the blond locks.

"Quat...I want to ask you something," he began slowly, his voice very soft.

Quatre looked a little panicked, but then nodded, indicating for him to go on. Trowa shifted his position, his arms supporting him as he pushed himself up.

"Could you...? I mean, I'm ready. I want you to do me...."

Trowa felt the blond stiffen, a scared expression flitting over his face. He shook his head quickly, pressing quick kisses against Quatre's cheeks and forehead. "No, no, don't do that. Quat, I'm ready. We know how...I know you're uncomfortable with it, but I would really...I would really like to do this with you. I want you to be my first."

"Trowa, I'm scared-!"

"Quatre, please? I mean, I've given a lot of thought to it, and I would rather you were first to do it. It would be...I think that if we did it that way, I could....I don't know, I would figure out a way to make it less painful for you. I don't-"

"Trowa, it's not that. I mean, I'm scared-what if something goes wrong? What if I hurt you?"

"Mr. K said that it would hurt for a little bit. I'm not worried about that aspect. I just...I just feel ready to do it. I want you to be my first. Please...?"

"Trowa..."

"Please, Quatre...please..." Trowa continued, pressing kisses against the blond's face, stroking his hair while Quatre fretted with nervousness. Finally, Quatre reached up to hold his arms, kissing back, shifting so that he was sitting level with Trowa. Trowa pulled away from him, looking into his face, waiting for Quatre to either refuse or comply. Quatre still looked uncertain, incredibly nervous, but he looked into Trowa's face and nodded slowly.

Trowa felt his lips break into a smile, and he kissed Quatre eagerly, drawing the blond against him in a crushing hug. Then, he pulled away, and stood, drawing Quatre to his feet as well. In the amount of time that this exchange had occurred, Quatre had gone soft, so Trowa reached down to began fondling him, looking into blue/green eyes as he did so. They clouded with renewed lust, so Trowa drew him onto his side of the room, pushing him down on the bed. He stroked Quatre's hardening member, drawing his fingers from the base to the tip, rubbing at the head with his fingertips.

He then abandoned the hardening dick to reach over to his night stand, where he'd stocked up on tiny capsules of lubrication that Treize had offered to everyone at the end of their class. Pulling out several, he resumed his stroking, using his other hand to lift a capsule to his mouth and rip it open. Quatre watched him the entire time, his own hand firmly caressing Trowa's own arousal. He was incredibly nervous with the entire thing, but Trowa's working hand kept him from completely fretting.

Trowa looked down at him, then, reaching for Quatre's hand. Trying not to be too messy, he dribbled some lube onto the blond's hand, then assisted him in coating his fingers. Quatre knew what he had to do-well, he didn't have to, but Trieze had mentioned that it would be best-and was nervous with the progress they were making. Trowa lifted himself off of Quatre's hips, keeping his eyes locked with Quatre's. Feeling his entire arm shaking, Quatre reached out, slipping past the heavy hanging of Trowa's balls, and made contact with his anus. Entirely anxious about the entire thing, Quatre broke eye contact to stare with some apprehension at Trowa's hardened member, and began to rim the exposed pucker with his lubed fingers. Then, slowly, he slipped a fingertip into the tight ring of muscle, pausing to take a big breath. Then he slipped his finger further in, noting the heat and the clench of muscle around his finger. He looked up at Trowa's face to judge his reaction, finding the goth to have his eyes closed, hearing him breathing evenly and deeply to accommodate the invasion.

Carefully, and with somewhat determination, Quatre then pushed his entire finger in, wincing at the unfamiliar feel of Trowa's rectum. While somewhat scared about the entire thing, he was also growing insanely curious as he found his finger tightly gripped, held by that tight ring of muscle. Moving his finger from side to side, he looked up at Trowa's face once more, finding the goth to be looking down at him, eyes half-lidded. Quatre couldn't tell if he were in pain, or what, but he withdrew his finger carefully, noting that the passage was slicked with some lube. Then, taking another big breath, he began pushing two fingers in, finding it to be just as tight with one. He worked at loosening the muscle, scissoring his fingers as Trieze had instructed. He was still very nervous, finding himself holding his breath, lifting his other hand to settle on one of Trowa's thighs, gripping the muscle with shaking fingers.

Trowa suddenly bent at the waist, causing Quatre to withdraw his fingers quickly with a startled intake of breath. Trowa kissed his mouth, murmuring that it didn't hurt, that it was starting to feel good. Somewhat calmed, Quatre paused in returning to the task, exhaling slowly as he reached up with his clean hand to hold onto his waist. Trowa took a deep breath, using his tongue to gain entrance into Quatre's mouth, playing with his teeth and tongue. Quatre used the distraction to once again penetrate Trowa with his fingers, noting that there was some lax and less hold. Unsure if that was a good thing, he watched as Trowa lifted away from him, picking up another capsule and breaking it to squirt into his hand. Quatre watched as he continued his ministration as Trowa reached down, and took a hold on his cock. The feel of the slippery substance, combined with the feel of Trowa's firm grasp, made Quatre hard once more. Trowa began to stroke him, spreading the lube all over his shaft, and moved into place. Utterly nervous that Trowa was going to start, Quatre withdrew his fingers, unconsciously wiping his hand on the bed sheets. He gripped Trowa's thighs as the goth shifted his hips, holding Quatre's cock steady as he positioned himself over him. Pressing slightly against him, Trowa felt butterflies churn his stomach, but the giddy happiness that he was actually going through with this made him somewhat calm. He felt the tip of Quatre's dick press at his entrance, and then he slowly lowered himself down onto it, feeling the virgin muscle tighten in response to the slow penetration. The blond's cock wasn't as big as his three fingers, but the effect was still the same. It still hurt.

Feeling very uncomfortable as he slowly lowered himself, holding Quatre's dick steady, he felt his thighs shake at the position and the fact that he felt like he was being torn apart made him wince. It was very uncomfortable as his body fought to reject the invasion, and he lowered his free arm to brace himself against the bed, lowering his head so that Quatre wouldn't see the pained expression on his face. He heard Quatre's soft murmur of inquiry, but also heard the pleasured hitch of breath as the blond's cock was enveloped into his heat.

Hearing that, knowing that it had made him feel good, Trowa continued to lower himself, feeling tears prick at his eyelids. With a grimace, he found himself fully impaled and rested in that position for a few moments, breathing deeply, trying to relax himself. He looked at Quatre through his fall of hair, finding that the blond's face was grimacing with half pleasure and half worry. An interesting combination, but a pleasing one all the same. Having removed his hand from Quatre's dick, he braced himself with both hands on the bed, hanging his head and focusing on the quivering motions of the blond's stomach. Finding that as moments passed, and the pain wasn't as much as it was before, he moved slightly in experimenting motion, hearing Quatre's gasp of breath and his own sharp intake. While it was painful, the thought that it would be pleasurable coaxed Trowa into moving again, hitching his hips up, feeling Quatre's dick scrape against his insides. He moved down again, just barely choking back a sound of pain, then moved up again.

"T-Trowa? You okay?" He heard Quatre's hitched inquiry, his voice trembling with his emotions. Trowa looked at his face, smiling slightly at the pleasure that was clearly evident in his features. He moved again, finding it somewhat easier. He figured that maybe next time it would feel even better, now that he knew what it felt like to be penetrated this way. Taking notes for the time when he would be the one penetrating, Trowa was a little worried that Quatre wouldn't like the thought of it if he showed what it truly felt like. He lifted his face, then lowered himself so that he was able to kiss Quatre, using his tongue to open the blond's mouth. Quatre was still holding onto his hips, his fingers digging into his skin, so Trowa began moving again, careful to keep his face from revealing what it felt like. It wasn't that he didn't want to deceive Quatre-but not to panic him.

"Are you all right?" Quatre asked a few moments later, pulling his face away from Trowa's. Trowa nodded, but it was evident that he wasn't exactly being pleasured because his own cock had gone soft a long time ago. With a pull on his shoulders, Trowa forced Quatre to sit up, and he pulled himself up and off of Quatre's cock, positioning himself on his back so that Quatre could be on top. Quatre hesitated at first, noting Trowa's bodily reaction, but with a few encouraging kisses and words, Trowa felt Quatre penetrate him once more, and there was definitely a bit of pleasure in that because it didn't hurt as much. As if the muscles had relaxed enough for this moment.

Trowa reached up to hold onto Quatre's shoulders as the blond awkwardly moved against him, frowning as he tried to find a rhythm. Trowa moved his hips to meet his, and while they had found a rhythm to be comfortable with, Trowa was extra sure that next time would be better. The first time, he'd heard, was always the more awkward because bodies were inexperienced, more clumsy. And, of course, it would help to have a partner that knew what they were doing. But this was perfect-they both hadn't had any experience-whatever Quatre did with Jamie still did not count-and they were learning together. It was perfect. Trowa removed his hands from the blond's shoulders, finding them growing slick with moisture, and shifted his hands to grip his slim hips. Quatre was breathing heavily, his head bowed as he found himself focused on the immense pleasure he felt at performing this act, heat building up within his lower body. Trowa felt so good, so tight, and he couldn't help himself from moving quickly to satisfy the rising buildup of his orgasm. On some note, he saw that Trowa was still soft, but he couldn't pull himself away from what he was doing to help him out. It felt too good too stop, and he felt himself starting to come, a soft groan issuing from his throat. Trowa must've realized that he was coming, and gripped his hips tightly, lifting his own hips to met the blond's thrusts, feeling a very warm buildup of liquid in his body, coating his insides. He was very much in awe at his first time, feeling very content that it had gone well.

Quatre nearly collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, his sweat coated body almost lax against his. Trowa wrapped his arms around his shoulders, kissing him fiercely. He pressed his knees against Quatre's hips, holding him in place. The feel of his love, the fact that he'd done this act with his love, made Trowa's heart skip a few beats, the goth entirely giddy that they actually had sex. And he knew that with some time, and lots of practice, it would be absolutely phenomenal. He reveled in the feel of Quatre's softening member in his body, and shifted to draw the blond's face to his. Kissing him, trying to express what he was feeling without actually coming out and saying it, Trowa felt Quatre shift out and away from him, tiredly resting on his stomach against Trowa's side.

For several long, quiet minutes, they listened to the faint sounds of activity going on in the hall, their classmates' cheery voices and loud shouts adding to their after-sex drowsiness. Trowa found himself uncomfortable, then, feeling Quatre's spent fluids leaking from his now very sore, and somewhat shifted body. With a wince, he moved into a sitting position, seeing that he'd stained his Calvin Klein sheets. With an embarrassed air, he reached down to the floor to pick up his shirt and clean himself off as best as he could. Then, with his legs still spread, he saw that the ring of muscle, once tight and firm, was now lax and somewhat ugly, dripping with semen. He wiped himself again and shifted with a cringe, closing his legs to look down at his beloved. Quatre was dozing faintly, his naked body beautiful in the lamp's dull light. Trowa smiled with affection, shifting so that he could press light kisses on the alabaster skin that was even paler at the blond's hips. Beautifully curved buttocks tightened at the feel of his lips against his skin, and Trowa found himself growing hard at the sight. Reaching down to play with himself, wincing as he shifted his body and finding that he wasn't going to be walking very well for awhile, he reached out to curve his fingers over one ass cheek, moving Quatre out of his light doze.

Trowa had an idea as he watched himself grow hard, and he shifted so that he was over Quatre's body, startling the blond. "No, no, do you trust me?" Trowa whispered, kissing his shoulder. "I won't penetrate you. I just want to try something...."

"Are you all right? I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"No, no, everything's good, Quat. Thank you. Thank you...I'm glad you were my first..." Trowa murmured, moving between Quatre's legs and nudging his thighs apart, widening the crevice between his cheeks. Quatre was still wary of what he was going to do, looking at him over his shoulder. Trowa shook his head, reaching out for one of the capsules that were still on the bed.

"I'm not going to penetrate you. I just want to feel you. I want to move against you, all right?"

Quatre nodded slowly, still twisted so that he could watch Trowa over his shoulder. With some effort because of his sore backside, Trowa positioned his lubed cock into the crevice, moving into a comfortable position in which he could rub himself against Quatre's body with the added feel of both cheeks holding him in place. Trowa braced an arm on one side of Quatre's body, holding his lubed cock steady as he shifted his hips upward, moving up and through the crevice. The feeling was just divine, sending curls of pleasure through him. He moaned softly, repeating the motion, shifting so that his legs were doing the work in aiding him to move between Quatre's ass cheeks. He dropped kisses on the blond's back, mimicking the motions of thrusting into a warm body, the friction of the movement causing a buildup of heat in his groin. He continued doing this until he came, groaning softly against Quatre's back, feeling his cum drip from the tip of his cock and drip onto Quatre's body. The sight, he saw as he opened his eyes, was simply erotic. Closing his eyes, he moved his lips up Quatre's back until he touched the short crop of hair, and began kissing his neck.

Quatre shifted his body, grunting at the feel of warm stickiness between his ass cheeks and found himself feeling somewhat modest with the position. He did like how it felt to have Trowa behind him, his warm breath against his skin, and he sure did like the feel of Trowa's cock against his ass, sending delicious tendrils of excited nervousness up his spine. Because he'd found that having sex with Trowa was very exciting, he found himself wondering when he could experience what he'd done with Trowa himself. The idea of being penetrated had lost its initial fright and was giving way to curiosity. He wanted to ask Trowa about it, but found himself distracted when he felt a shirt guided by Trowa's careful had on his butt, cleaning up the mess he'd made. Even though, Quatre felt very sticky and figured Trowa felt the same way. He turned, pulling Trowa down on top of him so that he could kiss him.

He felt the same way toward Trowa as Trowa did to him-having the goth be his first was simply the very best choice he could have made. With the both of them inexperienced and new, it certainly made the first time more comfortable and much more free of scrutiny and embarrassment. He kissed Trowa fiercely, feeling a build up of emotions within him, the intensity of them so strong that he couldn't tell what it was. He opened his eyes, looking into Trowa's green ones. For a few moments, they stared at each other, reveling in the after-effects of sex.

Then there was a loud thump against the door and loud bursts of laughter. Panicked, both of them quickly separated, fumbling with clothes. After waiting to see if the thump would persist, they realized that it had only been someone that had stumbled against the door and nothing else. Both of them looked at each other and smiled, another aspect of their relationship strengthened and maturing.

"Anyway, thanks, Trowa," Quatre said, finding his voice to be a little shaky. "For the gift."

"What? My virginity or the ticket home?"

Quatre thought about it, then smiled somewhat sheepishly. "Um, both?"

Trowa smiled back at him, wincing as he struggled into a pair of pants. He definitely was going to be walking funny, but if he concentrated hard enough, he could school himself into doing things normally.

"No problem. And don't worry about returning the gesture, Quatre. Really, you're my gift enough."

"Aw, you're a big softie. Frankly, you need to cut it out. Really. Because you act like a girl, sometimes, all touchy-feely."

Trowa grinned at him as he grumbled. Watching as Quatre picked up his school things, he felt that wave of emotion pass through him, the one that made him mouth in the blond's direction, "I love you."

Quatre straightened, looking at the tickets once more. He grinned at Trowa, then stepped forward, to kiss him once more. Then he broke away, moving toward the door. "I'd better pack, then! Oh my god, this is soooo neat! I need to pack! Oh, God, this is great, Trowa! Thank you! Thank you so very much!"

"You're welcome, Quat," Trowa said, chuckling as Quatre ran out from the room. Then he sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair. "So much for some romance..."

Maybe this trip to his hometown would give Quatre some idea that Trowa was feeling needy for some expressed and physical affection. Feeling intensely sore and somewhat discomforted by the fact that sex really wasn't all that it was expressed in the various fanfiction he'd read, Trowa rubbed his ass. Maybe next time would be better, damn it.

Then, he sighed again, looking down at his section of the room. He hadn't gotten his supplies from Niketown yet, so he figured on hitting town today to get whatever seemed crucial for the weather up there. But he wasn't sure exactly what, so now that he'd presented his gift, he may as well as ask Quatre what he needed. He stared across the floor at his side of the room, and rose from the floor. His suitcase was underneath his bed, a special Louis Vutton edition that Catherine had bought for him his freshmen year of school. He pulled it out, hauling it on top of his bed. Unzipping it, he pulled out various smaller travel packs that were designated for his toiletries and such, and began to pack what 'dull' outfits he had. He really considered that aspect of himself as he thought more about the trip-Quatre had expressed such aversion to his clothing, style and makeup, so he put in special consideration the smaller minds of his surrounding peers of Laramie to keep neutral. He would pack just basic shirts-no Die Whiteys, naked women or indications of his sexuality-and comfortable pants. As he packed, he mentally went over a list of what activity items he'd take to amuse himself during the trip. And as time began to pass, he realized how much he was looking forward to getting there.

And how much fun it would be to have sex once again.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

Trowa felt exhausted. Sitting in crowded Denver International, he stared up at the arrival times of Great Lake Airlines and silently cursed Christmas travelers. Due to extensive winter storms throughout the Midwest, he and Quatre had endured at least five hours in delay here in Denver, and it looked as if their connecting flight to Laramie was going to be cancelled due to more severe storms in that direction. Children cried fretfully in their parents' laps, and adults cursed and screamed at both airport officials and their cell phones. He himself wanted to kick everyone that walked by and scream Hiiro's favorite expression at everyone within the crowded terminal. But he doubt that anyone, aside anyone from Japanese descent and rabid anime fans, would understand what 'omake o korosu' meant and would write him off as a loser.

First off, they had departed Sophia Darken at two o'clock in the morning, endured the infernal regions that was Aprexal International Airport, boarded a flight that served generic soda in First Class-which was a nice gesture from Felicia, but morbidly moot because it was the Christmas season and everyone sucked ass- and had made their way to Denver International, which was crowded as hell and just as cheery. First off on arrival, they'd found out that their bags, which were supposed to hit Laramie before they did, had been diverted to Texas-TEXAS?!-and every seat upon sight was taken, as well as the floor. So they stood against the wall for nearly three and a half hours, and took the next available ones, resulting in a struggle with two football players that had threatened bodily harm if they didn't move. But thanks to airport security, the boys had won, and the football players had walked off, vowing revenge of some sorts.

After that, Quatre had talked his ear off about nothing in general, and Trowa had his limits in patience-the tension in the airport, the squalling of children, the fact that people were eyeing them with much suspicion despite the fact that the pair never displayed any acts of affection in any shape or form, were getting to the goth. Soon, he was gritting his teeth and hiding behind his fall of hair to escape. Quatre had grown tired of hearing himself talk, so he wandered off, leaving Trowa to fend for his seat despite the fact that Quatre had piled their travel bags on it. So, Trowa had argued with at least five people over the empty seat and the blond was happily chatting up everyone that passed through Denver International. The seat he sat in was uncomfortable, his feet ached in his new shoes, and Quatre's cheer was just too damn irritable. Despite the trouble they were having in being shacked up in the crowded terminal, the blond was just happy that he was headed home and damn all the trouble that was coming because of it. Trowa looked away from the squalling baby ahead of him and searched for his companion, finding him near the moving walkway that lined down the center of the massive area, and watched him talk to some foreigners that were trying to head out of the States.

Really, it was only a forty minute flight to Laramie, so he wondered how long it would take if they just rented a vehicle and headed out. But then again, he didn't know how to drive. That's what taxis, buses, and friends with their own vehicles were for. So he sighed heavily, slouched lower in his seat, and contributed to everyone's irritation factor by sticking out his long legs and refusing to move them, forcing people to step over them and glare murderously at him.

Quatre hurried over to him, happily plopping down in the seat next to Trowa, noting the severe crowding of those stranded passengers around him. He opened his bottle of Coke and took a long drink, then passed it to Trowa.

"I only drink Pepsi," the goth muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't be dumb. Are you hungry? Hey! They have popcorn! I want some popcorn. Wait right here, all right?" With that, Quatre left his seat again, hurrying off. The mother that was holding her fussy child stared at Trowa with so much animosity that Trowa glared right back. She shifted in her seat so that she didn't have to face him, and Trowa wondered what her problem was. Besides the fact that his feet had kicked her stroller aside earlier, when he'd stretched them out, that is.

When Quatre returned, they were announcing the arrival of flight number 5140, so they gathered their respective bags and made their way over to the ticket counter. Trowa was quite dismayed to see that the plane that was currently being refueled was a small, two propeller aircraft that looked barely big enough to transport two people. He looked away from the plane to look at the stormy weather, the snow that swirled about and the fact that the wind was blowing rather noticeably made him extremely nervous. After he'd handed his ticket over to the growling woman behind the ticket stand, he followed Quatre down the drafty hall to board the plane. Actually, they had to walk out a heavy metal door and emerge into the cold air to board the plane, and he didn't like that too much. It was much colder than New Park at its lowest, and Quatre had informed him earlier that Laramie in winter was colder than New Park had been lately. Which, according to Trowa, was simply fucked up because he hated the cold.

Seeing the small seats and the continued piling of people that were boarding, Trowa groaned as he sank into the window seat, Quatre hurriedly loading their travel bags in the compartment above their heads. Staring out the window, Trowa felt extremely nauseated as he realized that the small plane and the amount of people were going to make this supposed forty minutes to Laramie a living hell in the skies. It was bad enough he had a slight temperament to flying in the first place, and it was even worse to fly during stormy weather, and but now, it had officially turned into a very sucky trip.

In excited elation, Quatre looked at Trowa with a broad grin, and Trowa looked at him, looked at the smile, and forgot why he was cranky in the first place.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

Because of the hour and because of the weather, Trowa couldn't see what Laramie looked like from above. They just barely managed to land with little trouble on the icy runway, and when they'd entered the very small airport-Trowa thought that it was just cute the way it only had two levels-their bags were waiting for them. From there, Trowa looked at Quatre for help.

Nervously biting his nails, Quatre looked up at Trowa, an expression of uncertainty lingering there. Trowa wanted to reach out and comfort him, but he held back, unsure of such reception. Though he'd heard Laramie was 'notorious' for homosexuals, from Quatre's stand point, it wasn't as readily accepted as it was in New Park. He could reach out and hold Quatre's hand without anyone taking notice, but here, he would rather err on the side of caution rather than natural reaction.

Quatre took a big breath, then looked away from Trowa, eyeing the taxi service desk nearby. With a small smirk, Trowa indicated that direction. "Well, 'Justin'? Taxi? Or will you call your uncle?"

"Um...well...I don't...Well..." Quatre bit his bottom lip, and a thought suddenly occurred to Trowa.

"Is your uncle like your father?"

"No! No, Rashid is far from it. But...they don't know I'm here...I didn't have time to call them. Um...maybe a taxi?"

"Do you think they'll recognize you if you-?"

"Quatre!"

Both boys jumped at the cheery exclamation, and turned to face a nearby shop that sold the usual souvenirs and basic travel entertainment. A girl stood there, her flaxen blond hair pulled in a loose ponytail, her smile warming her entire face. Quatre smiled in greeting, and walked over, Trowa in tow. The girl hugged him happily, then pulled away to take in his appearance.

"Wow, you look great! You grew a little taller!" she continued, holding onto his arms and standing much too close for Trowa's comfort. He had to remind himself that there wasn't a way in which he display his displeasure at such a scene, and crossed his arms casually over his chest.

"Hi, Mary. It's nice to see you again," Quatre greeted just as cheerfully, and Trowa wondered how the blond had managed to retain that cheer despite this day of jumping time zones and delays.

"You left so suddenly, I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye! It was really rude of you to do that," she said, smacking his arm playfully, finally letting go. She looked up at Trowa, and flushed before holding her hand out. "Hi! My name's Mary Glamour! I grew up with Quatre, here."

"Oh, I'm sorry. This is Trowa Barton. He's a friend from Sophia Darken," Quatre said hastily, gesturing at Trowa.

Trowa took the hand, and shook firmly. "Hi," was all he said.

"Yeah, he doesn't talk too much. He was going to be stuck on campus by himself, so I invited him to come out here with me," Quatre continued.

"Wow, it's really nice to meet you," Mary said, flushing a deeper red as she stared up at the handsome goth, who had gone without his usual eye 'decoration', and was dressed in a casual black jacket over a hooded sweater, black jeans and beanie. She noted the slightly slanted green eyes and curved lips, feeling rather hot in her jacket and overalls. But there was something familiar with his face, his eyes that it niggled at her mind..."You look so damn familiar... have I met you somewhere?"

Quatre snickered and started to reply, but Trowa quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. Quatre pushed him away. "No, he's just...well, maybe you know his sister?"

Trowa slapped another hand on his mouth while Mary looked confused. Trowa looked down at Mary and explained, "My sister's in the entertainment industry."

"She's an actress," Quatre said, pushing him away. "Right?"

Trowa didn't reply, but found the shop very interesting. While Mary and Quatre looked on in confusion, waiting for him to elaborate, Trowa walked in to stock up on Snickers bars. Quatre shrugged. "He doesn't have any people skills," he chuckled.

"Oh. Well, it's really nice seeing you again, Quatre! Are you going to stay here very long?" Mary asked, holding her hands in front of her. For as long as she could remember, she'd always had a crush on the athletic blond, who'd always teased her about his best friend instead. She had gathered her courage and tried to confess her crush on him plenty of times, but had always been interrupted by that annoying trait that was called 'fear of rejection'. As far as she had known, Quatre had never been interested in such things, and when the rumors began flying around school about him and Jamie, she felt rather cheated. Still, looking at him now, she felt a mixture of disappointment and speculation-disappointment because that amazingly handsome guy with the weird hair had to be his boyfriend, and speculation because she wondered if that was really the case. He certainly didn't look like the typical gay guy, but looked the same as he always had-basketball shoes, jeans, jersey, and tousled hair. She had expected, that if she had seen him again, he would look more...well, gay.

"No. Well, maybe a couple of weeks," Quatre said. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, my family and I are waiting for my cousins to fly in from Tennessee. I was just wandering around to pass time. What's your school like over there?"

"God. It's so fucking huge. There's like, five different buildings on the campus-it's like a university. Bigger than the university here! There's one building for the dormitory, a main building for, like, classes and offices and stuff like that, then there's a gym with both basketball court and swimming pools, and-"

"Quatre, I'll call for the taxi," Trowa interrupted, eager to get to their place of destination and get some sleep.

Quatre waved him off with a nod, and continued describing his school to Mary, who was busy trying to decided whether or not they were a couple. As she listened with a half ear to what Quatre was saying, she began to work up the courage to straight out ask if that was truly the case.

When he finished, Mary opened her mouth to ask, but her little sister came bouncing around the corner, announcing that her parents were looking for her. Mary sighed in disappointment, and said goodbye, walking away. Quatre walked over to Trowa, who had just finished making arrangements with the frowning man behind the desk.

"We have to wait for an hour-I guess the guy got a flat."

"There should be more available," Quatre said with a puzzled frown in the man's direction. "Don't you guys have other cars?"

"No," the man replied flatly, in a tone that suggested no argument. Quatre stared at him, then at Trowa, who shrugged.

"But-"

"Kid, I assure you, there isn't another car available. You'll just have to wait."

Quatre stared at him for a few moments, then shook his head, leaving the counter. Trowa followed, looking at his cuff watch. Wow, twenty minutes here and they were already experiencing that wonderful world of intolerance. He wondered what had tipped the man off about their status when they had done nothing to display it. Was it when he was watching Mary talk to Quatre and he'd frowned? Or was it in the way that he'd caught himself staring too long at the blond's ass upon opportunity? He thought he'd been discreet about it. He had thick enough skin to handle such displeasures, but he glanced at Quatre, wondering how his blond was going to fare with it. New Park was an easy city to come out in-but this city was small, with barely thirty thousand people in population. It was a far cry from New Park-and it could just be tougher, due to the fact that they were people Quatre had been around his entire life.

Trowa hoped that the trip would grow better rather than turn ugly. He didn't want his gift to turn into something Quatre would regret and hate him for. He guessed that he'd just have to wait and found out. In the meantime, he busied himself by fantasizing what their next sexual encounter would be like...