Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Still the One. ❯ Still the One. ( One-Shot )

Still The One (Orleans)

Warnings: Shounen-ai/yaoi, truckloads of fluff, or sap, or waff, or whatever you care to call it, a touch of angst at the beginning, but it gets better, I promise! ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the G-boys-or-girls, I just borrow them and send them back… mostly… clean… And I'm not making any money off this either. I also don't own the lyrics to "Still the One".

Pairing: 3x4

Author's Notes: Wai! Songfic for Fablespinner's competition. Yay me. The last part of this, starting at about the third-last verse of the song took longer than the rest combined. I don't know why, either… At any rate, beware the fluff and enjoy the read. ^_^

~ ~ ~

We've been together since way back when
Sometimes I never want to see you again

Quatre's hands were soapy from the water he'd been washing the dishes in and they clenched tightly on the rim of the sink in an effort to keep from lashing out. He trembled all over and Trowa could tell just by looking at the tensed up back that Quatre was using every bit of willpower he possessed to keep his military training under control and not just turn and kick-box his way out of the situation that made him uncomfortable.

"No! Trowa, no! Can't you just stop asking me that and leave it be? I'm just… not… I can't alright!"

Trowa dropped his eyes to the wood-grain surface of the table he sat at, long legs stretched out beneath it and crossed at the ankles. He was terribly sorry for upsetting his golden haired lover, but not sorry he'd asked. They'd been together for so long; the war had ended thirteen years ago and they were both in their late twenties now. He was happier than he'd ever been, living in this little house in a little town an hour's drive from a city called Brisbane in Australia - he'd always liked the kangaroos in the circus, so he'd liked the idea of Australia and Quatre had indulged him with a tender smile and all the money they needed to establish themselves.

But something was missing.

Trowa pushed.

"Why can't you? You always say that, but you never tell me why!"

"Just… because!"

Quatre still wouldn't look at him and Trowa knew he was pushing buttons he shouldn't, but he'd had enough.

"Just because isn't an answer and you know it, Quatre!"

Quatre whirled, then, hands balled into fists at his sides and blue eyes flashing murder. In the time since they met, he'd grown and developed into the most mouth-watering piece of male Trowa had ever laid eyes on. He'd grown taller, though not so tall as Trowa himself, and filled out a lot, his body kept in peak condition through time spent in the gym out of habit from the war. Trowa was still slender, all whipcord strength and lightning speed. Quatre could now lift more than his lover, and he had the build to prove it, though they were evenly matched when they sparred because Trowa had a height and reach advantage. Quatre had also let his hair grow a little, so it curled down around his neck and took the edge off the naturally innocent look he had about him. It added a rakishness to his lover that appealed immensely to Trowa.

"Well it will have to do!"

"No, dammit, it won't. I love you, Quatre! And I know you love me! Is it such a huge step to make it official? Why won't you marry me?"

"You want to know why? Do you really want to know why?" Quatre demanded, drying his hands vigorously on a tea towel just for something to do with them other than wring his lover's neck. Though still generally as sweet as he ever was, Quatre did have a temper. It took much, much longer to prick and stoke up to what it was now than it did for most people, but it was there nonetheless and Trowa was insistent about this one thing. This one think that was the only thing Quatre wasn't willing to let him have. He threw the towel aside with a violent flick of his wrist when his hands were dry and it caught on the plates in the drainer, making them clack together.

"Yes, I really want to know why," Trowa said, a little calmer now.

"Because I refuse to be your little wife! I'm a man too, in case you hadn't noticed and I won't be that for you! Next you'll be wanting the average 2.3 kids! It's bad enough what they say about me at work, they already make submissive jokes and that would only make it worse! No! I won't be your good little wife who cooks and cleans and washes! Forget it!"

They'd both undergone extra training atop what they already knew as ex-gundam pilots so they could join the police force here in their little town. Though they worked together, each was partnered with another officer. Trowa with a young female officer, Quatre with another man.

"They're not allowed to say things like that," Trowa said, eyes flashing.

"That's not the point, Trowa!" Quatre cried. "The point is that just because I am how I am doesn't mean I'm willing to be a fucking wife! Allah! Sometimes I never want to see you again!"

But I want you to know, after all these years
You're still the one I want whisperin' in my ear

Quatre regretted that the instant it was out his mouth, the shocked look of abject pain on Trowa's face made the blonde wish he could just erase the last ten seconds and say something completely different, or nothing at all. He went to Trowa and knelt by him, reaching up to touch his cheek, dismayed all over again when the ex-pilot of HeavyArms flinched away.

"Oh Trowa… Trowa, I'm sorry! I didn't mean that!"

"You know, I think perhaps you did…"

"No, Trowa! I didn't. I couldn't! Even after all these years, I still love you like I did when I first met you!"

"Do you? Do you really? Maybe you don't. Maybe you've had enough of me and that's why you won't marry me."

"Trowa! How could you think that? I love you…"

Trowa turned his eyes away and let them slip shut, trying his best to ignore the slender fingers touching his thigh, his stomach, his arm, his cheek. Quatre, trying his best to comfort and apologise. Trowa had decided now to have this out and those gentle fingers wouldn't sway him.

"Things have changed a lot since we were in the war, Quatre. Then, the choice was limited. It was easier to be with one another than to be with someone else. It was easier, because we didn't have to worry about a slip of the tongue or carelessness with words. You knew what I knew and I knew what you knew and it was easier that way. But it's changed now. There is no war anymore, and if there were, it wouldn't involve us. Everybody knows who we are and what we did and there's nothing secret anymore. We can have our choice of who we want to be with now. There's nothing tying us to each other, nothing to keep us together, no reason for us to stay this way. I-"

"Enough…" It was only a whisper, nearly silent, but Trowa heard it and it stopped him short.

He opened his eyes again and looked down at his lover's bowed head - Quatre still knelt by his chair, hands still now, folded in his own lap. And he was crying. Trowa could feel the tears patt against his jeans and see the slight shake of Quatre's shoulders. He opened his mouth to say something, but Quatre beat him to it, lifting sea-blue eyes, darkened by welling tears, to meet emerald green.

"I didn't realise you felt that way, Trowa…" he said softly. "If had known you wanted to be with someone else, I wouldn't have held onto you… I didn't realise. I didn't know. I… I thought you still felt the same. I thought… Well… I love you… and… I guess… I assumed you felt the same still… But… if you… if you don't… then… then…" Quatre's soft voice failed and broke then, and his hands came up to cover his face. He rarely cried anymore, he was too happy, but the thought of losing his Trowa was one he couldn't bear and he wasn't afraid to let himself cry in front of the former HeavyArms pilot. He knew - or thought he had known - that it wouldn't make Trowa think him weak.

"Quatre…" Trowa whispered, and it was all he could manage.

He hadn't meant that. He had never meant he wanted to leave Quatre! He could never mean that! He had meant if Quatre wanted, he could leave Trowa. He lifted a hesitant hand to touch his lover's cheek and the Arabian pressed both of his hands over it.

"You're still the one I want whispering in my ear…" he said softly, the tears still flowing freely down his face. "I never want to leave you, but… if… if you want to… to leave me then-"

"No! No, Quatre, I never meant it that way! I don't want to leave you!"

"Then why would you say something like that?!"

Trowa pulled Quatre up into his lap, and the blonde went without much argument, instantly snuggling against Trowa and slipping his arms around the slender performer's waist.

"Because I thought you were feeling that way… I thought… I thought you didn't want to marry me because you really want to leave," Trowa said against Quatre's wild hair.

"No, Trowa…" Quatre said softly. "I never want to leave you ever… but… why do you want so badly to have signatures on a piece of paper to prove that?"

"I… I just… I don't want to lose you…"

"You never will…"

You're still the one I want to talk to in bed
Still the one that turns my head
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

Trowa was silent for a time, just breathing in Quatre's scent. His shampoo was apple scented, or peach, and reminded Trowa strongly of fruit-salad. He stroked the blonde locks and gently teased them with his long fingers, knowing Quatre revelled in the affectionate petting, because his father had never been one for hugging or touching.

The ex-pilot of HeavyArms wasn't and never had been one for poetry or speaking overly much at all for that matter, but he felt he ought to say something to assuage the last of Quatre's fears. He could tell his words had shaken his lover, and the blonde still wasn't altogether convinced that Trowa didn't want to leave.

"Quatre… you remember last week we were on that stakeout…?"

Quatre thought a moment, surprised by the sudden turn in conversation. He blinked eventually and nodded very slowly.

"Yes, I remember… You and Kirsten were across the street from Tyler and myself… You were in the restaurant… Your cover was a couple having lunch, and Tyler and I were business partners outside "work". Of course I remember… Why…?"

"Do you remember Kirsten punching me? Hard. Telling me to stop looking at other women when I'm out with her?"

Quatre laughed then, shaking his head a little in amusement at the memory.

"I remember. We heard it loud and clear over the wires. We barely managed to keep from laughing out loud."

"It was to keep our cover, because I'd been watching you with Tyler since you came round the corner up the street. It would have blown if the mark had noticed, because why would a gay man be out with a woman? But I couldn't help it. You turned my head. You always do, even now, and you always will."

Quatre smiled a little and looked embarrassed but happy at the same time. He slipped an arm around Trowa's waist and rested his head against the lean stomach, relaxing finally, and convinced Trowa didn't want to leave him.

"You know what I like best…?" the Arabian said suddenly.

Trowa was silent a moment, thinking, then he smirked.

"Me chasing you naked around the bed?"

"No!" Quatre laughed.

"You chasing me naked around the bed?"

"No, Trowa!"

Trowa thought for another little while.

"Playing on the swings at the park and getting funny looks from all the parents who proceeded to take their children away?"

"No! Allah, you're such an idiot! You make me laugh and we still have fun all the time. I like that too, but that's not what I like best…"

"Alright then, what do you like best, Lawrence?"

Quatre paused.

"Lawrence…?"

"Of Arabia," Trowa explained, which only served to send Quatre into another fit of giggles against the European's stomach. Oh yes, they still had fun.

"Be serious! What I like best is talking to you in bed. When we're both warm and relaxed and cuddled together and the lights are out and it's just you and me. It's like… there's no one else on the earth. It all belongs to just us and we're the only ones in it and it's because we love each other that it exists. And we talk. About everything, about nothing, about each other, about Duo and Wu Fei or Milliardo and Heero - you know I still can't get over that… But that's not what I'm talking about," Quatre blushed a little at his getting off track. "No, what I'm talking about is you, and sharing that moment with you every night. Just… talking… in bed… You know?"

Trowa nodded and urged Quatre's face up for a gentle, tender kiss. It seemed to last a lifetime, yet be over all too soon, and it always seemed that way for Trowa. He'd never known before what it was to love so deeply, so truly, that it seemed to burn and burn and he thought surely he must be consumed by it, but he wasn't. He was only renewed and strengthened by the fire and the answering feelings he saw plain as day in his lover's eyes.

"I love you."

He wished there were some other way to say it. Some way that didn't sound like rehearsed lines used over and over and over, but it was so true. It barely scratched the surface of what he felt, but it was as near as he could get.

And Quatre understood. Quatre always understood.

I looked at your face every day
But I never saw it 'til I went away

"I loved you that first time you stepped out on HeavyArms' platform with your hands up the air. You were so sure of yourself, so… so… Allah, I can't describe it. You took my breath away and stole my heart and lit my soul! I wanted you so bad. But… it was more than that…"

"I know. I felt the same. Like… I already knew you and I'd loved you forever and I always would."

Quatre nodded.

"And when I slept with Duo in the Magunac city, all I could think of was you."

Trowa went to say something, then realised exactly what Quatre had said and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"You what?!"

Quatre nodded, looking perfectly serious.

"Rashid and the others went to the party and Duo and I went to talk. It kinda… developed."

"It kinda de… It…" Trowa stammered, then collected himself and said, as though commenting on the weather; "I'll kill him."

"Trowa!"

"I will."

"No you won't!"

"Watch me."

"Trowa!" Quatre was laughing now, clinging tightly to his lover's waist. "You're so overprotective!"

"When are he and Wu Fei visiting next…?"

"Sometime in October, they think."

"Alright. I'll kill him then."

"Trowa, you don't have to kill him! I was joking! I never slept with Duo!"

"You never did?"

"No, I never did. We did just talk. But, Trowa, the look on your face was priceless!" Quatre cried and collapsed into another fit of helpless giggling.

"See, I never knew what you were doing when we were apart. I never used to realise how beautiful you were, what your face was really like, until you went away."

"Oh I know! I had a little holo-image of you that I kept in my pocket all the time. I used to take it out and wonder why I never noticed all the tiny details when I was actually with you. I'd look at you, but I'd never see you, like you said, until we were apart."

Trowa nodded yet again, smiling tenderly at Quatre and leaning in for another kiss. He stretched it out this time, taking a few moments to coax apart lips and teeth, meeting his lover's tongue in a lazy duel for dominance which neither minded who won. Fingers tangled in hair and clothing, bodies pressed closer together and the kiss went on until every tiny bit of air was gone and they had no choice but to part.

"I love you," Trowa whispered into Quatre's mouth.

"Ditto. So much. I don't ever want to leave you."

Trowa started to ask; "Then why won't you marry me…?" but he thought to drop the issue. It was obviously something Quatre was just too uncomfortable about and Trowa could quite happily live without it. If it was that important to Quatre that they didn't do it, then so be it. For the moment, anyhow, Trowa amended, that niggling want for it still in the back of his mind.

It seemed the argument and the ensuing conversation had bought about a distinct air of nostalgia in the two of them. Quatre made coffee and drained the water out the sink, then the two of them went through into their small living room and curled up together on the couch, still talking about remembered events.

When winter came, I just wanted to go
Deep in the desert, I longed for the snow

"You know…" Quatre said softly after they'd sat quietly sipping their coffee together for a few moments. "On hindsight, Heero and Milliardo's insane need to duel one another makes sense."

"It… does?" Trowa asked, raising a single brow in disbelief. "No… it doesn't. I wouldn't want to fight you. How could anyone want to fight with the person they love? At risk of death, of killing them?"

"They didn't love one another then. Or, at least, they didn't realise they loved one another then."

"They didn't?" Trowa never could understand how Quatre knew all these things. He knew it had something to do with the blonde's Space Heart, but it was something more than that. Quatre just knew people, often better than they knew themselves. It was an inborn gift. Trowa actually had a sneaking suspicion that Quatre had known the performer had loved him even before the performer knew himself.

"No," Quatre said, bringing Trowa out of his reverie. "They didn't. They thought it was just admiration for the other's skill. They had a connection, but they didn't realise it was love. Milliardo thought he loved Treize back then and Heero didn't think he could love. So because they were soldiers and they were certain the reason they couldn't stop thinking about each other was admiration, they wanted to finish the duel to see which was the better and, therefore, be able to move on and forget about each other - or so they thought." Quatre laughed. "You can't forget your soul-mate that easily."

Trowa smiled affectionately and shook his head.

"No, you can't," he murmured.

Quatre smiled back.

"And so followed your exodus into the snow, ne, Trowa?" he said with a laugh.

"Oh, God, yes! I did not want to be there! I don't know how I managed to get myself pulled into it or why I did it! I still don't know what possessed me to go to Antarctica, where the winter never ceases!"

"You sound like a travel brochure!" Quatre giggled and affected a soft, lilting advertisement voice. "Come to Snowy Antarctica - where the winter never ceases!"

"Gee, thanks," Trowa said sarcastically, tugging on a golden bang.

"So, you wanted to come out of the winter to me, and I was in the desert longing to be in Antarctica, in the snow, with you! A right mess we were in!"

Trowa made a face and shook his head, taking a large mouthful of his coffee as though to wash away a bad taste.

"No one could long for the snow!"

"Well I was!"

"No you weren't," Trowa insisted, then winked. "You were longing for me."

"Oh, of course!" Quatre fluttered his lashes. "Trowa, you're such a manly man! I just long for your hot, sexy body!"

They laughed and only curled the tighter about one another and Trowa's hand found it's way under the edge of Quatre's shirt to gently ghost over his hip. Quatre smiled, the both of them revelling in the affectionate touching.

"You think I'm hot and sexy, hmm…?"

"Of course I do. Else why would I stay around?"

Trowa rolled his eyes and used his free hand to hit Quatre over the head with a pillow. Quatre only laughed and burrowed even closer to Trowa so he couldn't hit the blonde without hitting himself as well.

"Sneak!"

"Yes, but you love me."

You're still the one that makes me laugh
Still the one that's my better half
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

"Yes. Yes, I do love you," Trowa said, smiling. "And no matter that it's cliché, you are my better half."

Quatre made a face. Trowa had a terrible habit of using and re-using clichés and Quatre always felt like giggling at him. Of course, Trowa always made the effort to make his lover laugh, he liked the sound, so it was possible the clichés were for that reason.

"That was bad," Quatre informed his lover, grinning.

"Yeah, I know. But it's still true. Plus if I'm lucky and I say it again, you'll laugh." Here, Trowa affected an exaggerated voice and mannerisms, overacting with his next words. "Oh, Quatre my love! You're my better half! I cannot live without you!"

"Trowa!" Quatre cried, giggling madly. "You clown!"

"Hit the nail on the head."

"You just like making me laugh. And you still do make me laugh, even though I know you're doing it on purpose."

Trowa grinned at his still-laughing lover and idly toyed with the rakish hair, making Quatre slowly calm and give a gentle sigh, a small smile of joy touching his lips. It was better, this small smile, than the laughing, even. Trowa loved that he could bring it to Quatre's face with just the smallest tender touch.

"Are you ever afraid you might get bored of me?" Trowa wondered suddenly and Quatre blinked disbelievingly up at him.

"W… what…?"

"Are you ever afraid you might-"

"I heard you. Why would you ask such a thing?"

Trowa shrugged and lowered his eyes a moment, then lifted them to look at Quatre again, meeting his eyes confidently and without deception.

"It was just a sudden thought… You never know. Do you, then?"

"Do I what?"

"Think you might get bored?"

"No," Quatre said firmly and seriously, leaning up to brush a gentle kiss across his lover's lips. "No, I don't. We still have fun and we always will and besides, I love you, remember? That's the most important thing. How could I get bored with someone I love so much? What a silly question."

Trowa smiled and went to say something, but it was lost in a much longer kiss from his lover, which he submitted to without too much protest. He was smiling when they finally ended the kiss by mutual, if silent, agreement.

"I get insecure sometimes," Trowa admitted.

"I noticed," Quatre replied with a gentle smile. He hesitated for a moment then, before asking, "But why? Why do you get insecure? Do you trust me so little?"

"No! No, it's not that. It's just that… well… you're so beautiful and you could have any man or woman you wanted."

Quatre stared at him.

"For starters, Trowa, I don't want any women. And as for men, you're the only one I want. I don't want anyone else, even if I could have them. I love you. And in case you hadn't noticed, you're not exactly ugly yourself, you goof!"

Trowa stuck his tongue out and Quatre captured it for yet another kiss.

You're still the one that makes me strong
Still the one I want to take along
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

Trowa broke this one fairly quickly and looked hard at Quatre.

"It doesn't matter if I am good looking. There's always someone better looking, Quatre. And… I'd be afraid to lose you. You make me strong. I started fighting for people whose names I didn't even know. That's why I nearly self-destructed. Then I realised I needed to change. I needed to fight for the person I loved most, for you. You got me through the war. You kept me strong and alive and fighting. I am afraid. Afraid to lose you."

Quatre looked at his lover, eyes deep and unreadable, a simple comforting smile on his lips. He touched Trowa's cheek, his hair, stroked down his neck to his shoulder and pulled him into a tight hug. They held each other like that for a long while before Quatre began to speak softly into Trowa's neck.

"Oh, Trowa. Trowa, my love… You don't need to be afraid. I'll never leave you, I'll always be here to help you stay strong. You were my strength in the war, too. You kept me sane… when the Zero System didn't have a hold on me, that is. But you still keep me strong. I go to work for you, to keep this tiny little back-of-nowhere town quiet and free of danger for you. So you can be happy. So I can be happy. So we can be happy together and safe. I love you and I'll never leave you. I promise it with all my heart."

Trowa gave a suspicious sob and Quatre drew back to find tears on the performer's face. He brushed them away with gentle fingers and Trowa smiled, closing his eyes for a moment before drawing his lover close again and stroking his hair.

"Thank you. Thank you for everything, Quatre. I never knew before I met you that I could love so much and have it returned. I never understood. You've taught me so much. You've taught me how to live for myself. I never knew how to do that before. I lived under the orders of someone else, not under my own orders. For that, if nothing else, I thank you."

Quatre drew away and smiled, tears welling in his eyes.

"Trowa… You don't often say a lot, but when you do, it's beautiful… Thank you, too, for helping me realise I'm worth something. That even though I didn't live up to my father's expectations, doesn't mean I'm useless. That there was nothing wrong with my loving another man. Thank you, too! Thank you so much…"

The blonde threw his arms around his lover's neck and hugged him tightly again, as if he would never let go, and Trowa was happy to allow that.

"Quatre…" he said after a time.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking we could go into space next Christmas. We could visit your sisters and Heero and Milliardo as well as Relena and Dorathy. I was speaking with Relena only a day ago and she said Alexandria was asking after us. She misses her Uncles. All of them, actually. Duo and Wu Fei too."

Quatre smiled fondly.

"I miss her too. Have Relena and Dorathy explained to her yet?"

Trowa nodded.

"Yes, they told her Heero's her biological father and Relena her mother, but it doesn't matter to her. Relena was saying she's so mature, even at only eight. She calls Relena Mummy and Dorathy Mother and simply calls both Milliardo and Heero Uncle as she does us."

"She was sweet and mature already at four - Allah has it been that long?!" Quatre suddenly realised that made it four years since they'd visited.

"Yes, it has been that long."

"Oh then certainly! We should go!"

"I was hoping you'd say that, because there's no one else I'd rather take along."

"There better not be!" Quatre said with a playful grin and Trowa laughed softly at him.

"There never will be."

"Good!"

"Indeed."

Changing, our love is going gold
Even though we grow old, it grows new

"Gosh, but doesn't it make you feel old? She's eight! I held her when she was only a baby, just born! Her hands were so tiny and she didn't make a sound. Tiny, perfect nose and eyes and toes." Quatre smiled fondly, remembering it vividly. "And now she's eight! Do you realise that means she'll be ten in two years, fifteen in seven? We were just barely that when we started fighting. She'll be grown up soon! Dating and getting married and having babies of her own…"

"Quatre!" Trowa laughed softly. "She won't have to grow up as fast as we did. It'll be at least another ten years before she starts to date… I hope… Well, it'll certainly be at least fifteen or twenty before she thinks about marrying. She'll want to have her own life first."

"It doesn't make you feel old?"

"God, no. I'm only in my twenties! Why? Do you feel old?" Trowa teased.

"Do I look old?" Quatre challenged.

"Oh yeah. All wrinkled and old and fat."

"Trowa!" Now it was Quatre's turn to hit Trowa with a pillow, even while laughing. "Gee, thanks. But even when I am old and decrepit and wrinkly and horrible, our love won't be. It'll still be new."

"You'll never be horrible," Trowa breathed in his lover's ear before nibbling lightly on it.

"You're just saying that because you want in my pants…" Quatre whispered, pulling Trowa a little closer.

"No I'm not… well… yes, but that's not the only reason. I'm telling the truth. You'll never be horrible. You never could be. It's why all the female police officers have crushes on you. Because you're so beautiful on the outside and on the inside."

"There you go with those sappy clichés again…" Quatre pointed out with a grin. "But you know half of them have crushes on you too."

"They don't!" Trowa said disbelievingly.

"They do!" Quatre assured him.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Hmm… Well, that's nice to know because that red-head in records is quite a looker… I always wondered what it might be like to t-"

"I don't want to know! Trowa! Spare me the details! I don't want to know about your intimate female relations. Ick!"

Trowa laughed at him and kissed his nose.

"I've never had any. You know that."

"That I do," Quatre grinned tenderly at Trowa and it was inevitable that they should seek one another's mouths again.

You're still the one that I love to touch
Still the one and I can't get enough
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

Kisses inevitably developed into touching, they just couldn't keep their hands off one another. Clothes were peeled away, soft cries and moans offered up as payment for the perfect caresses.

They took their time - always had since the war. Back then it was necessary to hurry. Never knew when the SafeHouse might not be so safe, when the next mission might come, when the need for haste would arrive. They could rarely spare the time for drawn-out lovemaking. A quickie in the shower or just before bed or whenever they happened to have a spare five minutes. But now that they had the luxury of time, they took as much as they were able.

Trowa murmured into Quatre's ear.

"I can't get enough of you, Quatre… You're so beautiful…"

Quatre could only whimper as Trowa's hands did the right things to drive him crazy, the husky purr in his ear only serving to add to the swiftly-growing insanity.

"And I love to touch you… Do you want me to stop…?"

Quatre shook his head vehemently, arching into Trowa's every touch as the performer played him like a harp. He managed to form words enough to softly whisper Trowa's name over and over and it only made Trowa smirk and intensify his teasing.

You're still the one who can scratch my itch
Still the one and I wouldn't switch
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

He knew the purring got to Quatre just as much as he touches, so he leaned close and kissed the ear, then purred into it.

"You can scratch my itch, Quatre. I need you so bad…"

Quatre moaned and pulled Trowa against him, two sets of hands wandering freely and both voices hissing and moaning with pleasure. Whispered words of love flew between them and nothing else in the world mattered, only they did. Trowa and Quatre and how much they loved one another. They were in their own world and nothing and no one could touch them here save one another.

"Trowa…"

"Mmm…?"

"Trowa…"

"Yes…?"

"Oh, Trowa!"

Trowa loved to hear his name cried out like that, but only in Quatre's voice. He knew, given the chance, he would never switch Quatre for anyone. He didn't want anyone else but Quatre and he never would.

But Quatre was impatient now and hadn't time for tender words or gentle caresses. He wanted something more, wanted to be claimed and marked as Trowa's in the most basic of ways. He softly begged for the very same, but Trowa wasn't ready yet. He drew out the teasing, a brush here, a kiss there, a gentle squeeze somewhere else. Quatre murmured alternately that he hated him or loved him and it only made Trowa want to keep the teasing going.

Quatre was nearly in tears from pleasure, driven so close to the edge over and over and over again but never allowed to jump. Trowa was just too skilful at this. He could tell when Quatre was teetering and he'd back off, kiss and calm his lover before starting the whole process over again.

"Trowa! Don't tease me, dammit!" Quatre finally gasped out and Trowa smirked, but acquiesced.

You are still the one that makes me shout
Still the one that I dream about

It wasn't long before Quatre was shouting Trowa's name, pressed close to him and moving in perfect concert with him. They were perfectly matched and they always had been. Soul mates. Meant for one another. The stars sung to them as they danced their way closer to the shining sparks, none of which burned brighter than their love for one another.

Heaven was nearer than ever when they as close as humanly possible and they both lived for this; the perfect oneness that came with the growing of their mutual pleasure and the steadfastness of their continuing love.

Quatre was right, they didn't need signatures on a scrap of paper to remind them of this - they had it every time they were together.

The blonde shouted again and lost himself completely to Trowa, the brunette not far behind him.

They curled up, one around the other around the other in a tangle of arms and legs that shouldn't have been comfortable but was. They murmured quietly to one another for a long, long time, talking of nothing and everything and the stars and the day to follow.

Quatre yawned first and snuggled against Trowa's chest, breathing in his scent as he started to drift off to sleep.

"I love you…" he whispered tenderly to the taller man.

"And I, you," Trowa assured him, delighted when Quatre slipped off to sleep with a smile on his perfect lips. "More than anything…" he added to the sleeping blonde before following him into the land of dreams.

And, as always, they dreamed of one another.

We're still having fun, and you're still the one...

~ ~ ~

Author's Notes: That was fun. I enjoyed writing it. Did you enjoy reading it?