Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ I Got Game! ❯ Somewhere I Belong ( Chapter 21 )

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: Whew...that last chapter was something, eh? Who remembers their first time?! Anyway, hope ya'll are very extremely happy with the lemons I've been writing. Isn't it funny-the first time you do stuff with your partner, you find yourself trying to do more and more every freakin' chance you can, no matter where you are? Or...is that just me...? ::looks from side to side nervously:: ANYWAY! Here's my next chappy...out so damn quickly, I might add...

Chapter Twenty-One~

"Somewhere I Belong" = Linkin Park

After the two adults had left for work the next morning, Trowa did his usual of sneaking out from the living room (even though they had offered Ramid's bedroom, the couch was simply too heavenly to abandon) and made his way upstairs. But, he saw with some surprise, that Quatre was already up and taking a shower. So Trowa continued into his room and climbed into his bed, sighing in happiness upon entering the warm sheets, smelling Quatre's musky sleep smell and that same, unidentifiable scent that was slowly driving him crazy because he still couldn't place it. They were supposed to have this morning for school, as Christmas Break ended on Sunday, school beginning on Monday-holy shit, that was tomorrow, he realized-but Rashid had arranged for them to leave Monday afternoon, so that they had more time to spend here. As it were, Trowa didn't want to leave. He had grown to like this place, and the company he was in, and found himself reluctant to going back to school.

As he got comfortable in the warm sheets, he winced and grumbled upon contact with cold drool that had pooled on the pillow, and had just turned that pillow over and resettled his head when Quatre came back into his room.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he exclaimed, slipping on a sock and running over to dive bomb Trowa's blanket covered form. Trowa grunted under the attack, trying to kick him off. Quatre caught his feet and prepared to push him off his bed until Trowa managed a handhold on Quatre's pants and pulled him down with him. Amid the clutter on the floor, Quatre whined about messing up his bed while Trowa tried to gasp in air, having lost it when his boyfriend's elbow landed in his gut upon impact.

"Trowa...want waffles? I know how to microwave waffles..." Quatre asked, pulling on his other sock.

Trowa shook his head. "I want bacon."

"I can nuke those."

"Uh! Noooooo!" Trowa whined, shaking his head. "Cook them!"

"I don't know how!"

"You've lived with your auntie and uncle forever and you can't cook bacon?! C'MON!"

"TROWA! YOU WANT BACON, YOU COOK BACON!!"

"I DON"T KNOW HOW!!"

"THEN YOU'RE UP SHIT CREEK, AREN'T YOU?!"

Trowa whined some more, then kicked Quatre off him, rising from the floor. "Fine, fine. I'll go and TRY."

"Good. And make some fried potatoes while you're at it."

"I am not cooking more fatty foods. Jesus Christ, since we got here, I probably gained, like, ten pounds. No wonder you were so chubby when you came to Darken."

"I was not!" Quatre exclaimed from the floor, picking up a hacky sack and hurling it at the goth's back. "I was not chubby!"

"Dude, you were chubby. Compared to you now? How much do you weigh?"

"How about you just not know?"

Trowa laughed as he gathered his things in order to take a shower. "Whatever, Carnie. I'm going to take a shower. I expect some NATURALLY cooked bacon waiting for me when I get downstairs..."

"Trowa, I seriously burn my bacon. I don't know how..."

"C'mon, my poodlepuff. Just try."

"STOP CALLING ME PET NAMES!" Quatre howled at the top of his lungs, still sitting on the floor. "GODDAMN IT!"

"MAKE ME, MY LOVELY BLOND CUPCAKE OF LOVE!"

"I'LL KICK YOUR STUPID ASS FROM HERE TO CHINA!" Quatre continued to yell, jumping up from the floor and moving toward Trowa, who braced himself.

"BRING IT, QUATRE!"

"DIE, YOU HOMO!" Quatre tackled him around the waist, so they fell out into the hall, wrestling for dominance, Trowa using his taller frame to try and pin him, but Quatre was using unfair moves such as pinching and biting, so he was forced to pull hair, rather jokingly.

"I'M BI, YOU FAG!" he howled in reply as Quatre bit his biceps.

"ARGH!"

"RAGH!"

There was a sudden slamming of the door downstairs, and they both stilled in mid-tussle, blinking in confusion as they listened to keys rattle and the person walking into the hall that led into the kitchen. Quatre slapped his hands over his mouth, wondering if they had heard him screaming at Trowa. Trowa's own eyes were widened, wondering if they had just given themselves away. They had been so obvious in their screaming at each other.

"Quatre? Trowa? I can hear you guys yelling at each other," Lana called from downstairs. Her voice was calm and spoke with the usual serenity that was common with her. Nothing in her voice gave away the fact that she'd heard the contents of their words. "Are you hungry?"

They stared at each other, Quatre's face paling slightly and Trowa looking worried. It wasn't that they feared Lana's reaction-from earlier conversations, she had no problems with homosexuality. But it was just the fact that she may have found out about their real relationship that worried Quatre to no end, and for Trowa to panic because Quatre was worried.

"Bacon?" Trowa asked, his voice hitching from the previous two minutes of yelling.

"Is that all? Quatre? Does this open container mean you want waffles?"

"Yes," Quatre replied, looking at Trowa. They quickly disentangled themselves from each other, and Trowa decided upon that shower. He re-gathered his things and disappeared into the bathroom while Quatre cautiously made his way downstairs, thinking of all the things that he'd say to Lana as way of explanation of his and Trowa's war cries.

Lana glanced at him when he entered the kitchen. He shuffled in, looking at the open container of waffles and at her as she prepared them by stuffing them into the toaster and rummaging through the fridge and pantry for butter and syrup. "Don't you think it's a little early for rough housing?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow in his direction.

"Er...sorry. What are you doing home early?"

"No work today. Actually, I took the day off. I figured you two didn't want to be cooped up in the house another day and decided to take you out. Would your friend mind?"

"Um, no. Where are we going?"

"Just thought we take a drive. Have him see the rest of the country."

"Oh, that's real interesting. There's nothing around for miles!"

"Quatre..."

"What?" he asked on a sigh, putting the container back into the freezer, and expecting another lecture on the lack of appreciation for his hometown.

"Is there something you would like to tell me?"

Quatre stilled, swallowing hard as he turned and looked at her. She wasn't looking at him, but was pulling bacon out from the fridge and heating up a frying pan. Not at all feeling ready to come right out and say what he was refusing to say, or even admit, he grimaced, clicking his teeth together. He then panicked because he wondered if she somehow knew about their having sex-very great sex, he was quick to add with a goofy smile on his face-the other night. Then, when he heard the bathroom door open upstairs, he lunged forward and hugged Lana tightly.

"Oh! Love you! Thanks, Auntie!" he said, kissing her temple and running off.

Lana sighed.

Trowa looked at Quatre as he deposited his dirty clothes into his suitcase, resolving to wash them later when Quatre hurried over to him. "I think she heard us," he hissed. Trowa rolled his eyes.

"How could she have not?" he retorted. "Probably, now that I think about it, the whole neighborhood heard us...Then you were screaming the other night...which was, by the way, totally hot, my lover..."

"Well-! Are you for real wearing that, today?"

Trowa looked at himself, noting the blankness of his black t-shirt, black Dickies, and paint splattered Converse shoes. All he'd really added to the ensemble was his cuff watch and Quatre's Nike wristband, which he had been wearing since he stole it from the blond's room nearly a month ago. He didn't think that Quatre himself had even noticed that it was his. He gestured, signaling that he had no idea what Quatre was talking about.

Quatre bent, pulling up the hem of his pants leg to reveal black socks with a skull and crossbones. Trowa sighed, and kicked Quatre to the floor.

"Seriously," the blond chuckled as he rested there. "That just gives you away."

"Whatever, closet homo."

"Stop saying that!"

"Make me."

"God, you're just asking for it, aren't you?"

"You're just reacting out of sexual frustration, you-"

"I AM NOT!" Quatre screamed, leaping up from the floor and tackling him once more.

Trowa let out a grunt, and wrestled back, quite aware that it was because of this that they were very nearly found out. Well, Lana was very smart and observant, so he had no doubt that she knew what the real deal was-but she just wanted them to acknowledge it to her. They wrestled down the stairway and into the downstairs hall. When they reached the living room, Trowa slamming Quatre into the comfortable couch cushions, Lana emerged from the kitchen with a shrill whistle, using her two fingers in her mouth. Both boys winced at the piercing sound, but stopped wrestling to look at her.

"Breakfast is ready," she announced, walking back into the kitchen.

They gathered in the kitchen, at the table, and while Trowa chewed happily on his bacon, Quatre wolfed down his waffles while Lana leaned on the counter nearby, sipping on a cup of coffee.

"Does anybody object to going out, today?" she asked, shifting her dark eyes to one person than the other.

"No," they chorused.

"So the both of you don't mind if we go driving down to Cheyenne?"

"Nope."

"Okay, then..." Lana shrugged, crossing her ankles.

"What do you have to do there?" Quatre asked, curious.

"Just a little shopping."

"What's wrong with the shops here?"

"Nothing. I would just like a change of scenery..."

"But, Cheyenne's about-"

"Does he always complain?" Trowa asked on a sigh.

"I'm not complaining! I'm just saying, it's going to be a long drive!"

"Do you get carsick, Quatre?" Trowa asked, rather mockingly. Quatre narrowed his eyes and prepared to launch a piece of syrupy waffle in his direction.

"Yes, he does," Lana admitted, nodding. "Which reminds me, there's some Dramamine in the medicine cabinet in our bedroom, Quatre. You may as well as take some before we leave. We'll leave after you're done eating."

Trowa snickered as he finished his last piece of bacon, Quatre frowning at Lana for revealing his 'weakness'. Lana smiled serenely back and gestured at him to finish.

After Quatre left to find the medicine, Trowa took their plates to the sink, and washed them quickly while Lana continued sipping on her coffee. Hearing Quatre make a big show about how medicine always made him sick and that there was nothing wrong with the shops here in Laramie, she shifted her eyes to Trowa as he rinsed and dried their dishes, and put them away.

"So...you two are pretty close," she began.

Trowa wiped his hands, and looked in her direction. "Yeah."

"Very good friends..."

"Yeah."

"You're very comfortable with each other, as well."

"Hn."

Seeing that she was getting no where with that line of questioning, she shifted position, lifting the cup to her lips. "Maybe you're closer than friends...?"

Trowa snorted, looking at her. While her dark eyes dared him to lie to her, he replied, "We're as close as friends can be."

"Mmm. Well, friends are pretty comfortable bantering with each other so easily, as you both are. Touching, joking, mocking...yet, I feel that there is something entirely out of place for your...friendship."

"Like what, Lana?"

She looked at him once more, sipping from the hot mug. Before she could reply, though, Quatre was bounding down the stairs, still grumbling about the distance to Cheyenne. She ended hers and Trowa's 'conversation' right there, and raised an eyebrow as Quatre marched into the kitchen, eyeing them suspiciously. By the end of their stay, she was sure to get the real story on their 'friendship', even if she had to drag Rashid into it.

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

That night, after their return from Cheyenne, Rashid announced that he and Lana were heading out to a friend's house to see their new horse. By the time they came back, dinner, which was deer stew and frybread, would be ready. All Lana had to do was cook the bread and then they would eat. It was entirely too cold for Trowa to venture out, so he refused to go, despite the fact that he'd love to see a horse up close, and Quatre could care less about horses, so the pair waved at them goodbye. Lana gave them a suspicious look, but merely shook her head and whispered up to Rashid, resulting in the man looking back at them.

Quatre had already turned to face the television set, wondering when he could rip Trowa's clothes off of him, so he didn't see the expression. Trowa had an idea as he waved goodbye, but appeared innocent and completely oblivious to what the two adults were thinking. After the door shut behind them, and their vehicle left the driveway, Quatre was on Trowa's lap, tugging at his shirt.

"God, what are you, some sort of nympho?!" Trowa exclaimed as he half-heartedly struggled against Quatre's grasp. His ass felt a little sore from the other night, and he couldn't believe that Quatre wanted to do it again, considering the pounding he'd taken as well. The guy walked as if a flagpole was rammed up his ass and had complained constantly in private.

"Shut it and give it up, you drag queen. You know you want it. Come on, they'll be back within a half hour!"

"You accuse me of being fucking masochistic, look at you," Trowa grumbled, shifting Quatre's groping hands from his button and zipper.

"Trowa! Cut it out! Whip that thing out, right now!"

Trowa looked at him, then laughed. "What the hell?! Quat, aren't you sore?"

"Like you wouldn't believe, but I'd rather that than going crazy from not getting any..." Quatre muttered, pushing Trowa's hands aside and picking at the button. Trowa stopped him again, and pushed him away. "What are you doing?!"

Trowa rose from the couch, and gestured at him to follow him, and with an eager expression, Quatre bound away from the couch and ran after him. They raced up to his bedroom, but before he could venture further, Trowa paused at his suitcase and began rummaging through it as Quatre ripped off his clothing and stared with impatience at Trowa. Trowa rose from his suitcase, grinning as he showed Quatre what he'd brought along, and flicked off the lights so their shadows wouldn't be seen from the outside. Hungrily, Quatre gestured at him to remove his clothing, and Trowa did so, grumbling about the lack of foreplay, removing every article of clothing very slowly. Then he advanced on Quatre, who backed himself onto the bed, pulling Trowa down on top of him. He was already hard, pressing against Trowa with an eager whine, kissing the goth frantically.

"Do you want me to-?" Trowa started to ask as he fumbled with one of the capsules of lube, breaking it open. Quatre pushed him off, then turned around, his ass in his face. Trowa grinned, grabbing hold of himself, spreading lube liberally onto his hardening shaft, and reached for the small pucker of Quatre's ass. The blond groaned, pushing against him eagerly, whispering for him to hurry up. Trowa shoved a lubed finger into his ass, the blond reacting with a sharp hiss of breath, and Trowa found himself nearly crazy with rising desire as Quatre rode his finger, eager to get started. Trowa shoved another finger in with the first, widening the newly stretched muscle, then removed both fingers to replace with his dick. He pushed in hard, grunting with the effort as Quatre cried out, bowing his head, clutching the sheets and pressing back against Trowa. Trowa wondered if he was doing alright as he found himself in all the way, bent over the blond's back. When he pulled out, Quatre was already moving against him, slamming himself against the goth, encouraging him to go faster. Trowa rolled his eyes, but sat up in a comfortable position, gripping Quatre's hips and thrusting hard against him. Quatre was whimpering loudly, crying out after Trowa hit a good spot, pushing his body against Trowa's and striving for a quick release. Trowa held his hips firm, tilting his head back as he was assaulted by pleasure.

Feeling himself rising up to the release of this built up sexual energy, Quatre braced himself with one arm and reached down to his own hard dick with his other hand, pumping away with a firm grasp. The slap of skin against skin, combined with their own sounds of pleasure, filled the dark room, and Trowa found himself lost in extreme pleasure at the assaulting feels of being clenched and being encouraged in what he was doing.

Quatre's small whimpers were growing to loud grunts, his head still bowed and his fingers gathering the sheets in large clumps. He could feel his orgasm building, and he faintly realized how short of a time it took for him to come, and felt himself sigh in exasperation of his own hurried ejaculation. Mussing his sheets with his cum, he tilted his head back, shouting incoherently as waves of pleasure flittered through him. Trowa continued to pound away at him, making animalistic sounds as he gripped Quatre's hips tighter within his hands, inching further into his body with his movements.

When he felt that new feeling of being coated from the inside, Trowa's cock jerking with his ejaculation, Quatre gave a small moan, pressing against Trowa, to hold him in place. The goth bent over him, breathing heavily, sliding his hands up from Quatre's hips to his back, to curl over his shoulders and slide down his arms, resting shaking fingers around his wrists. Wearily, somewhat embarrassed that he didn't last very long, Quatre sank to the bed and winced at the very large wet spot he'd made when he'd come earlier. Trowa moved with him with a loud sigh, shaking slightly from the efforts of their hurried quickie. He wasn't complaining, though. Just as it was the other night, it was very good. And Quatre's eagerness for this aspect of their relationship was a big turn-on and very encouraging.

As they caught their breath and cooled their heads, Quatre rolled onto his back, wincing at his sore ass. It hurt with a fresh stinging and outstretched displacement, but it was damn well worth the discomfort.

"Trowa..." he began, eyeing the darkened ceiling.

"Yup?" He noted with a smile the tiredness of Trowa's voice, the faint breathlessness in the other's tone.

"You okay?"

"Naturally. I just pounded your ass. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know...I mean...I don't know. This is...this is certainly one of the best parts of our...of our relationship, wouldn't you think?"

"Yeah," Trowa answered, rolling over onto his stomach, wincing at the wet spot on the sheets. He covered it with the comforter and moved so that he could curl an arm over Quatre's body, pulling him close. He snuggled so that his entire front was pressed against the blond's side, throwing a leg over one of his and locking himself into place. He sighed with much content, kissing Quatre's face every so often as his heartbeat returned to normal. The blond returned the kisses with firm presses of his lips, the hand closest to Trowa wandering over his naked form, and reaching down to cup his balls, fondling them lightly within his fingers.

Then, amid the purring he made upon the contact, Trowa wondered about the questioning Quatre was subjecting him to. He lifted his head, trying to see Quatre in the darkness. "Why?" he asked cautiously.

"I was just asking..."

"Quatre...I..." Trowa trailed off, just barely catching himself from confessing his love.

"What, Trowa?"

"Uh...nothing. Just that...I think I'll be ready to do it again in a few minutes."

"Ah...I love being young."

Trowa snorted, then laughed softly as he rolled on top of his lover. Kissing him, lapping and licking the inside of his mouth, Trowa pressed himself against Quatre and waited for his second wind. Everything was going so well, that he, ever the realist, wondered when it was going to blow up. Because, as with everything that happens in life, there was always the bad right after the good. He only hoped that they were strong enough to withstand it.

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

Lana and Rashid had returned twenty minutes later, and a half hour later, they were sitting around the table, eating and laughing over a story Rashid was relaying to them.

Trowa was sitting next to Rashid, while Quatre sat across from him, every so often leaning over to hug or kiss Lana's cheek, cooing over how much he loved her cooking. Lana was acting bashful and modest, earning some deserved remark from Rashid, and Trowa was loving everything. He loved the way the adults interacted with them, how Quatre reverted to a needy, wanting-to-please child whenever he was in their presence, and how they treated Trowa with much appreciation and respect. Trowa was really liking this aspect, really liking the pair, and he could see himself and Quatre in the future, doing this very same thing, but the only thing different about it would be the rings that would be on their fingers.

How much that thought made him smile and wish. How much he yearned for it.

He was just dipping his piece of frybread into his stew and Quatre was just finishing a story about his team when the front door opened and slammed shut with much violence. Everyone was startled in silence, and stared at each other with surprise. Lana looked at Rashid with a question in her face, while her husband returned the look with a similar expression, rising from his chair. Trowa looked at both of them in turn, then at Quatre, who looked puzzled. They heard heavy footfalls moving through the hall toward the living room, and Rashid hurriedly moved in that direction to intercept whoever had come through.

But then the person must have decided that they were not in the living room and came into the kitchen from the hall in the foyer. Trowa looked behind his shoulder to see a tall man stride into the room, wearing terribly expensive clothes, and he had to pause because while the man was familiar, there was a startling similarity in his features that were the same in Trowa himself. The fall of auburn hair over one side of his face, a natural fall and not something manipulated with a haircut and design, the thin eyebrows, the green eyes. Without the thick, auburn mustache that brushed against stern lips, the man would have easily passed as Trowa's father or brother. Frankly, Trowa was just a little disturbed that perhaps this man was a relative of his that he'd never met. But he got the true story of it when Quatre sat up with a start in his chair, exclaiming, "Father!"

That in itself made Trowa's eyes widen upon further examination of Quatre's father, and of himself. It made him want to laugh. The blond had a father figure in Rashid, but had chosen someone like Trowa, who looked similar to Ramid, as his boyfriend. The head doctors would love that one for their memory books.

Ramid looked down at Quatre with fury in his face, and Trowa felt himself grow cold at the feeling of fury and violence within the man. Lana rose from her chair as well, looking entirely nervous as Ramid approached the table. Coming with him were the smells of alcohol and something Trowa was familiar with, but couldn't rightly place. He instinctively rose from his chair as Ramid slapped both hands on the table and screamed, "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

The violence of his voice, the rising pitch of his ire, made Trowa jump, moving away from both the man and the table. Quatre felt himself pale significantly at the sudden arrival of his father, and looked in panic at Trowa, then at Lana. Rashid rushed into the room, anger clouding his features. He was significantly taller than Ramid, more built, but Ramid projected a bigger sense of power than Rashid could.

"Ramid-!" he started to snap when Ramid gestured at Quatre to get out from behind the table and approach him. "Ramid! What are you doing here?!"

"I asked you a fucking question!" Ramid screamed, ignoring Rashid and gesturing more sharply as Quatre hesitated, looking entirely younger than he was as he stared at his father with a mixture of fear and hesitation. Trowa wanted to go to him, to give him someone to hide behind, but he couldn't reach him without moving around the table through Ramid and Lana, so he stayed put and watched Quatre with a similar expression on his face.

Lana held her hands out, pressing against Quatre, keeping him from approaching Ramid. Sternly, she lifted her proud face to his, and shook her head. "You need to calm down, and answer your brother," she snapped, indicating Rashid. Her soft voice rose with protective anger as she kept herself between him and Quatre. "You cannot speak to him that way-!"

"He is my kid, I speak to him how I would like!" Ramid snarled at her. He looked over her head at Quatre, who was trying to get himself to move, but his father's anger had him frozen in place. "GET OVER HERE!"

"Ramid, what is the meaning of this?!" Rashid boomed with his loud bass, making Trowa wince at the volume. He looked over at Quatre, seeing the panicked expression as emotions began to rise within the roomy kitchen. Frankly, he was growing afraid. It was one thing to be around similar violence with kids his own age at various parties, but not between adults. It was entirely different, and Trowa was scared. "I expect an answer from you! What the fuck are you doing here?! You have the nerve to disobey me?! To accuse me of such frivolous things as bribing your coach, then you disobey my orders to stay away from here?! What is the fucking meaning to this, Quatre?!" Ramid screamed, pushing Rashid away from him as he moved through Lana, shoving her roughly aside. Quatre tried to move around him, but his father's hands wrapped into the material of his shirt, and he found himself being bodily jerked from behind the table, Rashid and Trowa immediately moving forward to intercept them.

Lana was in shock, picking herself up from the floor amid the shuffling feet of the males in the room, and hurried to a safe distance, hands at her mouth. She then whirled around and hurried off to find the phone as Trowa leapt to the fray, Rashid pulling at his brother as he screamed in Arabic at his frightened son.

"I told you to stay away from here! You dare disobey me?!" he screamed, shaking Quatre fiercely, wanting to inflict so much violence on the face that stared back at him in terrified horror. "You dare to disobey me?! Such disobedience won't be tolerated! In our homeland, you would be punished severely for failing to listen to your father! Your sire, your master! How dare you?! How dare you?! You need to respect me! I am your father! I am your father, and you disrespect me by not listening to me!"

As Trowa tried tugging at Quatre to get Ramid to release him, Quatre shook himself out of his fright and began screaming back at his father. "You are not a father to me!!" he screamed. "You are nothing but nothing to me! You have done nothing to be my father! I do not consider you my father! I disrespect you because you've disrespected me by failing to acknowledge me, from acknowledging what I do, and what I am!"

"You are nothing but a child to me! You are nothing! NOTHING!"

"I am something, and I am someone to everyone! You're never around to know this! You're always gone! I hate you! You can't come in here and start throwing your weight around just because! You've just disrespected your brother and his wife! You disrespected them!"

"Don't you dare speak to me in that way! You know nothing! NOTHING! You are nothing to me, you faggot! Lover of boys! You disgust me! Disgrace me! I had hoped that you'd have changed in that school, but you fucking fail to respect me by failing and continuing with your disgusting ways!! You're sick! Slut! Boy slut! You should be ashamed of what your decisions were! Ashamed! I am ashamed of you! Sickening creature! You are a disgrace! Nothing! I have and want nothing to do with you!"

"GOOD! That's GOOD! Because you're nothing but a fucking dick! Dick face! Dick hole! You hypocrite! You Goddamned hypocrite!"

Rashid managed to get his hands in a position in which he could bodily pull Ramid away from Quatre, and Trowa in a similar movement pulled Quatre off to the side, but the two continued screaming at each other.

"Faggoty little whore! Whore! Slut! Disgusting creature! I grow sick at the sight of you! You return here to disgrace me?!" Ramid continued to scream, reaching down to slip off a crocodile shoe and hit Quatre across the face with it, then threw it at him. Trowa had to brace himself against the surge of violence that his lover was capable of, rushing at his father with a snarl.

"Hypocrite! Hypocrite! You fucking hypocrite! Rich fuck! Stupid rich fuck!" Quatre screamed at him, face reddening with the efforts of his shouts. "You're never here, anyway! What does it matter what you lose here?! You're never here! This is my home! Your home is somewhere else, far from here! Get the fuck out of here, you fucking fag! You fucking hypocrite! I hate you!"

The rising threat of violence made the air too thick to breathe as Trowa tried his hardest to keep Quatre from rushing at his father, Rashid in a similar battle as he held Ramid back. Lana was no where in sight, but through the screams, he could hear her speaking to a dispatcher, pleading with them to hurry up and send a car out to their address.

Ramid broke through Rashid's hold, and grabbed Quatre by his hair, forcefully dragging him out of Trowa's grip. He used one hand against Trowa's face, curling his fingers inward to scratch as he pushed Quatre onto the floor and began kicking him with the one foot that still had the shoe on. Trowa, with a snarl that Ramid dare hurt Quatre in such a way, rushed at the older man, plowing him down onto the kitchen floor, pinning him to start punching away. Rashid pushed him off of Ramid, and Trowa scrambled out of the way. Ramid screamed death threats as he was forced to let Quatre go, Trowa hurriedly Quatre back to his feet. Through tears of humiliation and fury, Quatre continued to scream back at him in rapid Arabic, Rashid yelling through the din to get Trowa to get Quatre away from here.

Trowa, through much effort, dragged Quatre from the kitchen, pleading and begging the blond to go with him as he struggled in his arms. Quatre stumbled, but Trowa was there to pick him back up, hastily pulling him to his feet and dragging him to the stairway. He figured they would hide out in his room, the sounds of Ramid and Rashid screaming at each other in the kitchen echoing throughout the house. Trowa's heart was beating fiercely in his chest as he pushed Quatre ahead of him, the blond finally calming down enough to go with what Trowa was saying.

But the two men emerged into the hall, Ramid screaming at Quatre to get back down there and face him. Rashid was screaming back for Trowa to keep him up there, and Trowa began hustling Quatre to his room, pushing and forcefully shoving in order to get him to move.

"My fucking kid will never be a homo, a sissy-girl! My only son?! I have no son!" Ramid was screaming in English. "Is that your bitch, you fucking little shit?! You fucking little traitor! You fucking little homo!! Get done with one and out with another?! Get down here and face me, and stop acting like a fucking coward! Coward!"

"Fuck you!" Quatre screamed, leaning over the rail as Trowa tried to ignore the insults directed at him. He concentrated on trying to pull Quatre from the rail, fearful that he'd fall. "Fuck you! Fuck you! You druggie! You fucking loser! I hate you! You fucking dick, you were never there for me! You fucking asshole! Fuck you! Fuck you!"

"You little shit! I despised you! I continue to despise you! You're nothing to me but an object! You fucking little shit, you disgrace me with your sissy ways! How dare you disgrace me! Humiliate me?! Because of you, I lose my friends, my business here! Because of you and your dick sucking ways!"

"Go the fucking hell, you fucking loser! I hope you die! Die!"

"Stop it, the both of you! STOP IT!" Lana screamed from the hall. "Rashid, get him out of here!"

"This is my house, I pay for you to live here!" Ramid screamed at her. "Dumb bitch! You hide this sack of dick-sucking shit and refuse to respect me! Whore! Slut!"

Rashid, with a roar of fury, picked Ramid up from the floor and hurled him toward the doorway while Lana screamed with fear at the display of violence. Quatre was going insane, trying to get Trowa to let go of him so he could run down there and smash in his father's face for talking that way to the one woman that was as close to a mother he could get. Rashid struggled with the door as Ramid picked himself up, struggling against his brother's efforts. Amid all the screaming and shouting, the door opened, a couple of uniformed police officers moving in with shouts of their own.

Trowa pulled Quatre with him from the stairway, locking his arms over Quatre's and forcing them to the floor in order to calm him down while the police dealt with the struggling Ramid. Chaos reined as the officers were forced to handcuff and pin down Ramid, doing the same with Rashid. Lana intervened, crying that Rashid had done nothing, but she was threatened with cuffs as well as the officers barked at her to stay back. Trowa let go of Quatre, to let him go to Lana, but when the one of the officers saw him rushing down the stairs toward her, Trowa felt his heart stop in his chest when a gun was withdrawn and hysterical screams pierced the air in order to keep the man from shooting.

Trowa rose shakily from the floor as Quatre quickly put his hands up and stopped moving, nervously indicating that he was going to Lana. The officer, a rookie and new to domestic disturbances, hesitated as his partner hissed at him to put the gun away. Lana rushed around the staircase and nearly threw herself at Quatre in an effort to protect him if the rookie panicked and fired. The rookie put his gun away, the woman and her nephew sinking to the steps in heavy relief.

Ramid was bodily hauled away by three other arriving officers and the senior that had come in earlier, Rashid led away in a much more dignified manner by the rookie. The rest of the family was ordered to stay put, as they would be questioned when the two men were put into the cars. From there, things would be sorted out. Lana cried in relief, hugging Quatre tightly to her as he repeated the gesture with her. Trowa, from his position at the stairwell, was very sure he'd experienced his first heart attack-if that rookie hadn't hesitated...

He didn't even want to think about what would have happened if he lost Quatre in such a foolish mistake. He made his way down to the two, and threw his arms around them both, their arms going around him as well. Shakily, he hugged Lana in an effort to give some comfort, then released her to hug Quatre tightly to him. He very nearly lost the blond once more, and the thought was entirely traumatic. He almost lost it upon that realization, and kissed his temple fiercely. He didn't care who saw, or what people thought. Quatre returned his frantic hugs with a tight grip on him, holding onto his shoulders, his arm wrapped around Trowa's neck.

And Lana watched in a daze, her silent question boldly answered by the sight in front of her.

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

The senior officer returned to the house, and Lana went to him nervously, clutching the railing with weak fingers. Quatre moved away from Trowa to help her, and Trowa ran his hands through his hair, entirely traumatized by the entire situation. His limbs were shaking madly with adrenaline, and his heart repeated its rapid beat upon watching the two talk to the police officer. The police officer took down a report of what had happened, and assured them that charges could be pressed upon Ramid for forceful entry and bodily assault as he studied the newly formed bruise on Quatre's face, above his right eye, from a kick that had been thrown earlier.

Trowa watched them through his hair, hands on his knees as he quietly waited, hoping that Rashid would be released because he had done nothing wrong but try and protect his wife and nephew. As the questioning continued, the rookie officer came back in, and took Quatre aside, quietly apologizing for drawing the gun on him. Trowa listened to the explanation he gave, claiming that he'd panicked because they had come in on a situation where people were fighting, they didn't know what was going on, and he'd only drawn a gun because it had been instinct. Quatre naturally forgave him for that, explaining that it was all right, that he understood. Trowa felt himself start to shake again, realizing how close it had been for that officer to pull the gun and realizing with a slight smile that ever since he'd gotten with Quatre, every moment spent with him had never been dull or unexciting.

Rashid was let go, but Ramid was taken to the police station. After the cops left and Rashid returned, Lana hugged him fiercely, and let loose with built up tears over the entire situation. Rashid pulled Quatre to him, murmuring words that Trowa couldn't understand because they were in Arabic. They talked softly to each other, with Quatre shaking his head and replying something that Trowa had no idea of.

Finally, Rashid looked up at Trowa, and gestured at him to join them. Shakily, Trowa rose from his position on the step and walked down to them, wary of what was going to be said. Rashid pulled him in a rather fierce hug, thanking him for helping out, and thanking him for being Quatre's friend.

After much tired discussion over the entire thing, Lana claimed that she was tired, and pulled Rashid with her up the stairway. Trowa, once they'd disappeared into the hallway leading to their bedroom, turned to Quatre and hugged him tightly. Quatre returned the gesture, hugging him just as tightly, his head resting against his shoulder.

They released each other at the same time, and Trowa indicated for him to follow him as they went into the living room. Quatre sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair, touching the bruise on his face.

"Well, Trowa, the only thing I can say of this is that I'm glad I don't have to see him again," he said on a sigh, Trowa pulling him down onto his lap so that he could hug him from behind, his arms wrapped in comforting embrace around his middle.

"Think they'll put you in their care, now?"

"Yeah...probably..."

"This is so fucking crazy, Quat. He just showed up out of now where," Trowa said on a sigh of his own, resting his chin against his love's shoulder. "Just barged right in and started shit. Truth be told, I was so scared. But at the same time, I wanted to laugh."

"Why?"

"Quat..." Trowa craned his neck to peer into Quatre's face. "Do you realize that I look almost exactly like your father? Minus the mustache?"

Quatre stared at him, then shifted away, taking in his entire face. His skin then turned entirely pale, and Trowa reacted quickly once he recognized the gray pallor he started to take. "O-oh! Oh my fucking God! Oh! Oh, Jesus!" Quatre exclaimed, hands flying to his mouth as he stared at Trowa in a new light.

Trowa immediately pushed his hands from his mouth, shaking his head. "No, no, no, I don't think that's a bad thing, at all, Quat..."

"But you look like him! Holy shit, does this mean I was looking for him all this time?! I mean...in some level...? Oh, my God, that is fucking disgusting...I just had sex with my father..."

"QUATRE!" Trowa yelped, then laughed. "It's not that...c'mon. Just...come on. Don't think that way."

"But, shit, Trowa! Your hair, the color, your eyes...oh my fucking God..."

"Your God has nothing to do with it, and besides, there isn't any gods...Quatre, don't freak out. I thought that it was just humorous, is all." Trowa sighed again, leaning his head to rest it on Quatre's chest. He held the blond's arms firmly. "Don't freak out on it. It's all right. It doesn't mean anything..."

"Trowa..." Quatre said on a groan, leaning his head on Trowa's.

Silence reigned on them, and Trowa pulled him in close for a soft kiss, holding him tightly. "I was scared, Quat. I'd never been in that situation, before. I mean, I've been in and around fights, just not... just not ones like that...I was so scared."

"I was, too," Quatre admitted, lifting his face from Trowa's. "I mean, he never did that before. I think he was buzzed on something..."

"You know your father does that kind of thing?" Trowa asked tentatively, but he made the question sound as if he were asking Quatre if he knew his father did drugs.

Quatre shrugged, fiddling with Trowa's collar. "I don't know. Probably. I don't really know him, remember? He's a stranger to me."

"Mmm..."

Trowa tightened his hold on Quatre's arms, then dropped them to place his hands on his hips. "Let's not let that happen again, all right? Once is enough."

"Yeah. But...I don't know. He is a billionaire, you know. And I'm his only heir...I don't know." Quatre shrugged. "He was going to leave everything to me when he left the business, but kind of gave up on the idea when I showed no interest in business. I refused to do what he wanted, refused to learn that sort of thing, and frankly, if you think about it, I totally suck with people skills."

Trowa snorted, then laughed softly, nodding his head in agreement. He kissed Quatre's cheek once more. "I've noticed, love."

"Why do you call me that?"

"What?"

Quatre felt his cheeks heat as he looked Trowa in the face. "'Love'. You call me that. Why?"

Trowa shrugged, feeling his own face heat as he realized that he was going to confess what he felt. "I don't know. I just...Quatre...I...Listen, I-"

"Ahem."

Both boys started, pushing away from each other in surprise as they looked up at Rashid, who was staring down at them in curious interest from behind the couch. For awhile, no one said anything, and both boys felt their faces heat with embarrassment as they realized that they had been caught. If they really gave any thought to it, they would have realized that they'd shown Lana what they felt nearly an hour before. But now, faced with Rashid's curious face, they realized that they had to come clean.

Rashid, being the first one to recover, frowning that he had to pay up on Lana's bet on the two being closer than 'friends', shook his head in silent reproof. "Well...that's that, then. Quatre, you'll just have to leave your door open if you two are together there. And please, boys, if you can-keep your hands to yourself. Really. Teenagers, these days. Always eager to rush into things..."

Quatre felt his entire body turn red as he ducked his head sheepishly, Trowa finding the floor very interesting with his reddened face. Both of them felt very meek and guilty and refused to look at each other.

Rashid snorted, turning away from the coach. "It was a good thing, I think, that Trowa's staying down here. Now that I know what's going on, you'd better be sure I'm keeping any eye on you both. I was going to ask if anyone wanted some hot cocoa, but never mind. Curfew's in ten minutes, Quatre. Make it quick."

As the huge man disappeared into the kitchen, Quatre looked at Trowa with a snicker, and Trowa found himself covering his mouth with one hand, erupting into chuckles. Then they sat quietly with each other, fiddling with the other's fingers, holding hands between each other. Trowa lifted Quatre's hand to his mouth, and softly kissed each finger, blowing through the tiny blond hairs on the backs of each one.

"Now, what?" Quatre asked on a soft laugh.

"I don't know. Tomorrow, we go home, Quat. You ready?"

"I...think so. I don't want to, but...Trowa...what were you going to say earlier?"

"What? When?"

"Before Rashid walked over..." Quatre stared at him silence as Trowa realized what he'd been about to say. He reddened slightly, but gathered his courage, opening his mouth to confess.

"Five minutes, Quatre," Rashid interrupted on his way to the stairwell, carrying two mugs of hot cocoa.

"Never mind," Trowa muttered, shaking his head in embarrassment at their 'outing' to the older man. Quatre chuckled nervously, face reddening. But, with a reluctant sigh on having to part with the goth, he made sure Rashid was out of sight, then leaned forward, kissing Trowa 'good night'. Trowa returned the kiss with a soft murmur against his lips, then kissed the bruise on the pale skin above Quatre's right eye.

Tomorrow they were headed back to Darken, and Trowa was already regretting it.