Quatre's nerves were humming as he walked to class, passing by several of the Gundam pilots on the way. Heero had dark bags under his eyes; late night, Quatre thought, snickering as he saw him rub his jean-clad butt when he thought no one else was looking. Duo must have been hungry.
Wufei had been busy avoiding Sally Po, who was the athletic director at the small all boys high school of 300. "Have you seen the onna anywhere?" he asked suspiciously, eyes darting around as if he was still on surveillance.
"The onna?" Quatre asked dubiously. "No, I haven't seen Sally anywhere. Looking for her?" That made the Chinese pilot start.
"No," he said stiffly, and nodded sharply at the blonde boy before continuing on his way. Quatre watched him go, feeling as if he'd just been trampled by 400-years of Chinese heritage. Was it something in the Asian culture that discouraged men from showing their feelings? Heero had been the same way for a while...but then he and Duo had gotten together...
For that matter, was there something in the world in general that discouraged men from showing their feelings? No matter how much he tried to talk to Trowa, the best response he could get from him was a general nod. It was beginning to feel hopeless. Now that the war was over, Trowa didn't need to be a soldier. He could acknowledge the growing tension between them, and they could do something about it, instead of playing hide and seek, insinuating but never telling, flirting but never touching.
In a less than spectacular mood, he headed for Room 541 in Goodwin, where his advisor was having a beginning of the year meeting. After climbing four flights of stairs and getting his favorite pink shirt all sweaty, he was in a bad mood. Upon discovering that he was in the wrong building *and* that he had to walk another four flights of stairs, Quatre's infamous patience had worn out.
"Good morning--" a voice began.
"Yeah yeah," he snapped, plunking down into a chair inside the little classroom. There was a cheery little window, and a cheerful little blackboard and a cheerfully plump teacher to round off the disgusting display. He saw a bird chirping at a blossom and felt like screaming.
"Quatre?" The teacher was watching him with a disapproving smile, her plump face crowded by the high collar of the required teacher's dress. He nodded, trying to constrain his face into a polite smile. It wasn't working.
He heard a loud snicker and his jaw nearly dropped as he saw a very attractive boy, his short blonde hair, though not as light as his, glimmering in the sunlight from the window. He had black sunglasses on, and full, pouting lips that melted into a strong chin and long, elegant neck. The pretty blonde wore a baggy white t-shirt and tight cutoffs that showed off a nice, full butt.
"Hey, watcha staring for?" the boy demanded, making a face at Quatre. It was such a kawaii expression, reminding him for some reason of Duo, that he couldn't help but laugh. "Hey!" the boy said, snapping his fingers as he walked over to Quatre. He held out one hand, and for a single, insane moment, Quatre thought he was going to slap him. Instead, the boy held stuck his hand out to shake his.
"I'm Jess," he said, blowing a bubble in the Arabian boy's face unceremoniously. "I guess you're Quatre." He didn't seem too concerned about it. "The other people in our advisor group never showed up at school. So it's just you and me, pal!" Gingerly, Quatre took the boy's hand, expecting to feel some kind of sticky gum or buzzer. But his hands were surprisingly warm, a change from Trowa's cold ones...
"Guess so," he replied uncertainly. "I'm sorry we got off to such a bad start, ma'am. You are?"
"Miss Grayson," she sniffed, but accepted his apology with some grace. "I was just going over the schedules. You and Jess have similar schedules, except for lunch periods..."
By lunch time, Quatre was glad for the break. The blonde boy Jess had been hanging all over him, sitting in his lap, trying to feed him grapes he'd stolen from the faculty fridge. Granted, it felt kind of nice to have someone paying him that much attention...but he was still in love with Trowa and he hadn't seen him all day and he felt like he was going to snap if the blonde-haired bishounen didn't leave him alone.
"Quatre-kun," Jess sighed. "I'm going to have to leave you now, okay? I've got English class with Miss Grayson."
"Okay, Jess," he managed to grit out sweetly. "Have a nice English class." With that, the nuisance was finally gone. He slumped forward in his seat at one of the smaller tables and prepared himself for the worst as a hand touched his shoulder.
He looked up and smiled. "Trowa! How's your day gone so far?" The brown-haired boy shrugged as he took a seat, eating only an apple. "That good, huh? Mine too...There's this boy, Jess--"
"I saw him." Trowa's voice was unusually sharp.
"Trowa-kun, are you all right?" he asked, leaning forward, concerned.
"I'm fine. Who was that boy again?" he inquired politely, only his eyes betraying any interest. A small part of Quatre wondered if this wasn't because Trowa was jealous about Jess. That would be a terrible thing...
But would it? the voice protested. He's already said nine words to you, almost over his ten words a day limit. Maybe it'll force him to admit what's going on between you. Unbidden, a small smile spread over his lips.
It wasn't a bad idea. But there was something fishy about the whole thing, a little feeling that made him uneasy. He shoved that feeling away and smiled pleasantly at Trowa.
Relena smirked from her seat in the tree outside the dining hall as she packed the binoculars away. Her plan was working!
Quatre yawned as he heard a knock at the door and nearly pissed in his pants as he saw a disheveled Jess standing in his doorway, a blanket in one hand. "Jess," he greeted warmly, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head. "What's wrong?"
He heard the blonde boy sniff and instantly felt bad for being so terse with him. "My roommate kicked me out," he admitted, wiping his eyes beneath his sunglasses. He even wore them at night, Quatre saw with a certain amount of amusement and amazement. "I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Come in, of course you can stay here," he said, moving his pillows to the floor. It was going to be a hard, sleepless night, he could tell. The carpet was so *not* plush and it hurt his back terribly to sleep on the floor...
"I wouldn't want to put you out," Jess insisted, tossing his blanket to the ground. "I'll sleep on the floor, Quatre-kun." He then proceeded to stretch out onto the floor on his stomach, the muscles in his slender legs flexing, his buttocks straining against his shorts...
Quatre felt something else straining against his own shorts, but swallowed hard, fighting for control. "No," he said finally, condemning himself to a night facing the wall, "you can sleep in the bed." Jess looked at Quatre, as if in surprise, his little mouth dropping open in an "o".
"Are you sure?" he finally asked, eyeing the bed. It would be a tight fit...
Inspiration struck Quatre. "Heero and Duo have two beds. We could borrow one from them..."
An indescript look passed over the blonde's face as he finally said, "Don't they need both?" Quatre's eyes widened as he realized he'd just given away their friends' secret to a complete stranger. "I see," Jess said knowingly, and shrugged. "That's cool."
"I'll go pay them a visit," he said, and got up a little too quickly, slipping on Jess' blanket, collapsing right into the other blonde's arms. "Thanks," he said, practically running from the room. The blonde boy watched him go with a mixture of laughter and puzzled hurt on his face.
A few seconds later, Quatre arrived back, blushing furiously. "Aa," he began, studying the floor. "Heero and Duo...they're--" He stopped, waving his hands in some random circular motion that was supposed to mean sex.
"Mm. So what are we going to do?" They both stood there, watching the bed as if it would miraculously split in two, then Quatre crawled in, moving over enough to give Jess half the space. It would be a long night, he thought, closing his eyes to the sound of light snoring.
Quatre woke first, stretching languidly, only to discover...
"Aa!" He looked down again at the slender boy curled up around him, one arm thrown lazily over Quatre's chest. He even slept with his sunglasses on, he noted with some amusement.
Did he really want to make Trowa jealous? They all had pasts, and secrets they would rather not have come into the light for examining over morality and ethics. Was he pushing too hard?
As he pondered the mysteries of the French pilot, Jess woke with a start. He was in a warm bed. He was with..."Quatre?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with two little fists, then glanced back at him in disbelief. "Oh my God! Did we...?" Quatre found this statement more than absurd, since they were both still wearing their clothes.
As he soon as he opened his mouth to say so, the blonde boy held out a hand, eyes shutting. "Don't speak, Quatre. I know what went on. And I want to say, I understand." With that, he bolted from the bed, running like the hounds of hell were on his heels, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Quatre watched him go with a mixture of horror and dismay. Then he gulped as he saw Duo's head pop into the doorway, a sneaky grin on his face. "You didn't, Quatre," he admonished lightly. "You didn't."
"Didn't what?" He stared dumbly at the American, who started to laugh.
"You had sex with Jess? He's fucking hot! Congratulations, man," he said, walking over and shaking his hand so hard his arm felt like Jell-O. "Q is a V no longer!"
"Shut up, Duo!" He had to find Trowa. He had to make sure Trowa didn't find out... A single green eye blinked twice at him from the other side of the hallway, then widened as Duo's words sank in.
Quatre didn't know whether to scream or to cry.
"Trowa!" he cried, running after the green-eyed ex-pilot as he saw him disappear into his room, shutting his door oh so softly. No, it wouldn't be him slamming a door, that wasn't the way he worked. He pounded on the door futilely with his fists, letting his forehead rest on the hardwood. "Trowa, please come out."
"No."
The answer was plaintive, one he'd expect from a child. Face twisting into a scowl, he got ready to break the door down. Slamming shoulder first into the solid oak door, he groaned as he felt his shoulder make a sound like a corn of ear popping. "Trowa! Let me in!"
"The door's open." He sounded amused now, almost as if... "If you want to come in."
Quatre opened the door sheepishly, hands jammed into his pockets. His eyes watched him like a hawk through a blonde nest. "Trowa, I--"
"It's okay, you don't have to explain yourself, Quatre." His love's back was to him as he stared out the small window that provided the only source of light. "I know what really happened."
"Trowa--"
"I saw him at the doorway. Don't bother explaining; I know nothing happened." With a soft sigh, the brown-haired ex-pilot slung his backpack over his shoulder, and with a toss of his bangs declared coolly, "I've got to get to class."
He was almost out the door when the thought occurred to Quatre.
"Hey," he called, eyes slanted as they narrowed into blue slits. "Why were you watching my room?" Trowa simply smiled and departed, closing the door softly behind him as always, never slamming the door.
That simply wasn't his style.
He found the blonde boy sitting on the steps of the dorm after classes, as if waiting for him to come along and step on his toes. "Aa! Sorry, I didn't even see you there," Quatre said politely.
"That's an awful nice thing to say after we slept together," Jess retorted, his pretty blue eyes watering. Now that the blonde baka had his sunglasses off, he could see that he had gorgeous eyes. Brilliant blue, like ocean water on a sunny day, and as guileless and innocent.
"Jess," the blonde bishounen sighed, putting his hands on khaki clad hips, "we did not sleep together. We did *not* sleep together," he added again, for emphasis.
"Oh yeah!" The other blonde bishounen then proceeded to grin, confirming Quatre's suspicions. A complete airhead, he thought with mild distaste. "I forgot what happened. Now I remember. I feel so bad for causin' you all this trouble. I wanna make it up to you...somehow." His eyes raked over Quatre's body, sending strange shivers down his back. He could feel his forehead break out into a cold sweat, perspiration pooling in the small of his back and his navel. He tried to tell himself that it was just the sun, the heat of the sun's rays, that was it...
Jess guffawed loudly, breaking the spell. "Look at those two! Crawling all over each other! Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Quatre had a very bad feeling... "Get a room!!" The two boys stopped necking on the patio and he caught a glimpse of a familiar braid...
"Q!" Duo called, winking one violet eye. "You little two-timer! I saw you, going into Trowa's room! Did you kiss it and make it all better--"
"DUO!"
"Trowa," Quatre sighed, banging his head against the door, "Duo didn't mean it like that. He was just kidding around..." He heard movement inside Trowa's room, and his heart skipped a beat. Was he coming out? Then he heard the sound of paint chipping and knew he was just opening a window.
"I'm not angry, Quatre."
"Then why won't you talk to me?" the blonde boy demanded, pounding his fist into the door. "Dammit, Trowa!"
"I'm talking to you, aren't I?" Quatre could just imagine his face, perfectly impassive, gorgeous green eyes flat and lifeless. He'd probably have the same expression on his face whether he was dying or folding clean laundry.
"No you're not!" Quatre cried, then abruptly reined himself in. What was he doing? The last thing he needed to be doing was yelling at Trowa when all he wanted was for Trowa to trust him enough to let him in. To really talk to him, instead of letting Quatre speak for the both of them.
"Good night Trowa," Quatre whispered, and headed back to his room dejectedly, blonde head bowed slightly. He could feel blood rushing to his face as his eyes watered, but he wiped his tears away fiercely with one sleeve.
It all seemed so hopeless.
He was almost asleep when a small figure leapt at him in the darkness, giggling as it landed on his stomach. All of the air in his lungs was expelled in a quick huff as he found himself with a lapful of smiling Jess.
"Q," he whispered, lowering long lashes in a way that was both seductive and kawaii. "Is there someone else? Is that why you don't..." He bit his lip, trailing off. "Is that why you don't want me?"
"Jess..." He looked so forlorn...so lonely. Quatre couldn't help but fold the smaller boy in his arms, sighing as his head rested on his chest. This was what he had been missing from Trowa; human contact. He craved it the way a flower craves the sun and it hurt him that Trowa refused to touch him. If only he could have both...
"Kiss me, please," Jess said suddenly, lifting his head so that his intense blue eyes were staring directly into Quatre's own eyes. Quatre swallowed hard, tearing away his gaze to study the pattern of his bedspread. "Does this other guy..." He ran a finger over the lines of his chest, pressing down through the fabric of his shirt. "...Does he love you back? Does he love you, Quatre?"
"Of course," Quatre snapped. But then, Trowa had never done more than hint, and it could have just been him, reading into things that weren't there. Instead, he went on the offensive. "What about you? Do you have someone that loves you?"
An indescript look passed over the blonde boy's face before he shook his head. "I had thought that someone did...but now I know that it's not true. A childish fancy, a dream. I woke up and I know the truth now. He will never be mine." With that, Jess slid from the bed, casting one last seductive glance behind him.
Quatre watched him go, almost smiling as the blonde bishounen slammed the door hard enough to rattle the hinges.
Trowa was almost beside himself. How had Quatre slipped from his grasp? One moment he had been about to confess his feelings to the small blonde boy, and the next minute another blonde boy was moving in on the Arabian. He didn't blame him for moving on...
If only that was the truth. He felt bitterly betrayed. Had they spent all that time together during the war, watching each other through hooded eyes, giving tiny touches and little smiles, only to have his hopes crushed before they were ever truly realized? Once again, he cursed his inability to express his feelings. Yuy had the same problem, yet he and Duo were together and happy. They were certainly loud enough at night...
But now, *Jess*, that silky-haired bimbo with long, unscarred tan legs and a round ass that begged to be touched, had taken a liking to Quatre. The more he tried to talk to Trowa, the more trapped he felt. Would this be the time, he thought miserably, when Quatre finally got fed up and simply left him alone for good? He couldn't afford to mess up, but it seemed he had two left feet and half a map when it came to navigating his own soul's desires.
There was a knock at the door; Quatre, perhaps? "It's Duo. Trowa? You there?" Sighing resignedly, he answered the door, schooling his face into calmness. There was no need for the big mouthed American to know the details of his dilemma; even if he meant well, he had a knack for stirring up trouble.
He was sorely tempted to answer "No," and leave it like that, but instead, he answered the door with his usual flat face in place, pressing his lips together to keep from smiling as the braided one struck a pose, one arm behind his head and the other wrapped around his bare midriff.
"Hey Trowa," he greeted, bouncing inside and shutting the door behind him. "I have to talk to you." His eyes were completely serious, although his body still moved restlessly, prowling around the room like a jailed panther.
"About what?"
"Don't play dumb with me, it's not gonna work. A certain blonde boy that's been running around chasing after your blonde boy." Trowa found himself nodding slowly and froze, whirling around to face the window. At least outside there were no violet eyes burning into his, haunting him with the truth.
"He's not mine."
"Of course he is!" Duo sighed, smacking his forehead lightly. "Quatre's been yours from day one. And you just need to realize it. Carpe diem, my green-eyed friend."
"But how?" He saw that he had screwed up badly, now, that the entire time they had been running in concentric circles, sometimes nearing but never touching. "I don't..."
"Don't worry! Just be yourself. Talk to him." Duo shrugged. "It sounds hard, I know. But if you don't, then Quatre might think that you don't want him and who knows? Then you might lose Quatre for real. Jess, if you haven't noticed, has been on Quatre worse than Relena ever was with Heero."
"Okay." Trowa threw his hands up into the air in prayer, in defeat, he wasn't sure which. Duo grinned and clapped him on the back.
"What you gotta do is..."
"Did you get him to do it?" Relena demanded as Duo exited the dormitory, whistling as he hopped down the steps, his good mood reflected in every little movement. He must have been successful, she thought triumphantly. Or maybe he just got some from Heero.
"Jesus, you scared me!" Clutching his chest dramatically, eyelashes fluttering in mock-fear. "Of course he agreed. We've worked too hard for it not to. Plus, we've got Duo Maxwell on the job, and--"
Relena suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth, dragging him over to the bushes. Duo bit her hand, tongue swiping over palm. She made a face and wiped his spit onto her shorts, all the while shooting dirty looks at the braided boy. He was too busy watching Trowa, who had been coming down the stairs, as he walked down the street to the florist a few blocks south of the school.
"Trowa's going to do it," Duo whispered, eyes lighting up. Relena nodded her agreement, sighing as she looked at her watch.
"I've got to go, Duo. Keep track of Trowa. This is going to be so good!"
Quatre felt like screaming.
"Psst," Jess whispered behind his hand. "Psst! Quatre!"
"No talking!" the matronly proctor bellowed, folding down her newspaper to glare at both of them. They were sitting in the dining hall, serving a detention. Quatre was sure the poor blonde boy had meant well, but he shouldn't have glomped him during chemistry, and especially not when he was handling explosive chemicals near an open flame.
It almost seemed that Jess was deliberately trying to get him into trouble, although it seemed that way with Duo also. They both had such lively personalities and daring senses of adventure that it was impossible to live a boring life around them.
"Quatre," Jess tried again. "I'm sorry I got you into trouble--"
"NO TALKING!" she growled, snapping her pencil in two with her thumb. Quatre could feel heat rushing to his face and knew he was blushing. Now she would think he was the guilty one--!
"That means you, Winner," she added as an afterthought, smirking. "Detention is a punishment, not a party."
He opened his mouth to apologize, then thought the better of it.
"Psst!"
By the time he finally got back to the dorm, he was mentally and physically exhausted. He found that in order to deal with Jess he needed the same tactics Heero used to deal with Duo; ignore him.
He got the message loud and clear, as depicted by his hurt expression as he gathered up his books. He looked so forlorn and lonely; how could Heero stand to do that to Duo, especially if he was in love with him?
He flung open his door, expecting the darkness of the room to jump out and swallow him up. Instead, the faint aroma of lilies wafted to him on a breeze from his open window. Peeking inside, he felt his heart skip a beat.
"Trowa," he breathed, seeing the slender pilot standing in the center of a huge display of lilies of every shade and every scent, from a scent that reminded him of the summer and the sun, to a deep musky smell that would always send him reeling into a memory of a time where he had been loved, where his father's arms had wrapped around him and comforted him. It almost seemed that his entire life had been captured in this single, perfect moment. And the source of this epiphany was slowly walking towards him, one hand outstretched, waiting for his.
He let his hand fall into that waiting palm, criss-crossed with lines and scars, bearing the pains of life without complaint. Trowa shifted uncomfortably as Quatre pulled him into a loose embrace, letting his long arms wind around his back.
Then he looked up, and saw those eyes, that soft smile, all for him. Thoughts of a certain blonde boy were swept away, as were the walls, the dorm, the other people. Nothing existed but them, and the soft scent of flowers that lingered on their skin. It beckoned to them.
They fell onto the bed, drowning in the flowers, drowning in the soft rays of moonlight that filtered in through the vertical shades, drowning in a love that had no name, only sensation. And hope rekindled.
Trowa and Quatre looked at each other uneasily as Jess approached them, head bowed slightly. "Hey Jess," Quatre said carefully. "How's it going?"
"Bad." He sighed, slumping over the table, his backpack pressing him into the cold Formica.
"Why?" Sometimes it was like talking with small child, trying to learn anything from Jess was.
"I have to transfer."
"You do? Why?" Duo popped up beside them, interested. "Are you leaving, Jess?"
"I have to. My guardians don't approve of me being here." Jess snorted. "They think it's perverting me. It's a little late for that, I think."
"Well, we'll miss you." Jess looked at Quatre with a guarded expression, searching.
"We will! Don't be so suspicious, man. S'bad for your health." Duo ruffled his hair affectionately, laughing as Jess glared at him. Then he too laughed, and they turned to other subjects. Such as getting Heero a makeover in time for the dance coming up that Saturday...
Relena smiled sadly as she climbed into the pink limousine that would take her away from her five boys. They were like her children, now, all so young. She was glad that Quatre and Trowa had finally gotten together, even if it had taken drastic measures to force them to admit their feelings.
Running a hand ruefully through her now-short blonde hair, she reached between her eyebrows with one nail and began to peel her nose off, grimacing as the paste used to hold the rubber on pulled off bits of skin. She had to admit, she looked radically different with short blonde hair, and with the fake nose, no one had been able to tell that it was really her...
Except for Duo, of course. And, much to her relief, he had found the entire thing too hilarious for words and insisted on being "in" on her plan. She was eternally grateful; though Relena, Queen of the World might have pulled it off, Jess, blonde airhead, would have had a much harder time.
But, she thought as Pargan began to drive away, faster and faster until the school blurred into the horizon, she had to admit, she looked damn good as a boy.
End Part One
Next Part: Math with Milliardo
Bianca
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