Title: Loss of Anonymity
Author: Mookie
Pairing: 4x3x4
Rating: R/NC17
Warnings: yaoi, lemon/lime
Challenge: identity
Word Count: 784
I was nameless for a long time.
Perhaps I should rephrase that. I was Nameless for a long time; that is, I had no name, and hence was referred to just that way. No-name, Nameless, it was all the same.
In retrospect, it seemed funny that my very namelessness gave rise to a name. Being called nameless is still a form of address, despite its lack of meaning.
It made it easier to pretend to be someone else. There was never a name that would make me look up unexpectedly if someone were to shout it, no recognition of my identity that would make infiltration tricky.
Heero, I think, understood that better than anyone, despite his penchant for making an entrance. No one had to tell me that 'Heero Yuy' was a borrowed alias, just as mine was.
To hear the way everyone said it, though, gave me pause for thought.
When they said Heero's "name," they connected it with the reckless young pilot of the Wing Gundam. Even I thought first of my newfound comrade, before I'd remember there was a long dead pacifist who'd shared that name.
The dead man whose name I shared wasn't even in the same league.
"Trowa?"
Quatre's sleepy voice jerked me back from my musing. His hand reached out and stroked my back, moving to my neck where I didn't realize until he frowned that the muscles were bunched together.
It was hard to explain to Quatre. He's had his name all his life, and it's a bit of a burden, if you ask me. Three names, for one person, when I'd had none of my own at all.
I felt a stab of jealousy and resentment, but I didn't want to turn away. I could not punish Quatre for something that was no more his fault than my lack of a name was mine.
Duo tried to make light of it a year ago. He'd said a name was just something other people called you. I found out later he'd made his up. I found that almost contradictory, as he'd certainly called himself that long before telling other people.
That was when Quatre had subtly encouraged me to retain the name "Trowa Barton."
His chin was on my shoulder, his hands sliding around the front of me to clasp across my chest.
Heero had given me a bit of advice shortly after he'd regained consciousness, after he'd blown his Gundam, and himself, to what should have been smithereens.
I followed that bit of advice when I'd moved in with Quatre, against my better judgement. Overall, I'd have to say I was happy I'd done so.
I followed it again that moment, turning in Quatre's embrace and kissing him.
My hands caressed his body as our tongues slicked across each other. It took little time to feel his erection press against my stomach, right next to my own.
I might have taken a moment to remember some of the "names" the mercenaries I worked with gave their own members, but, while humorous, it had no place in what I needed from Quatre at that moment.
Quatre enjoys sex both ways, but it's when my body clenches around his arousal that he is most vocal. I needed to hear that. It's not that I ever felt Quatre lied about his feelings for me; he'd been showing me since we first met. It was more the fact that I knew the words fell from his lips unbidden, that he seemed unaware of the things he said in the throes of passion.
It is very hard to lie to someone when you're coming.
It's probably a good thing Oz never thought of that.
From the sounds Quatre was making, he was close, and his fist around my erection, his thumb stroking over the head of my cock, helped urge me along the same path.
I threw my head back and gasped his name as I reached climax.
After Quatre slid out of me and I turned to face him, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed my collarbone, then my neck, then my lips.
Although Quatre and I came from different backgrounds in almost every way possible, I'm often reminded of all the things we have in common.
I try not to dwell on the Gundams so much, although they're the reason we met.
There's our music, something that always sends a tingle through my body, as schmaltzy as that sounds.
"I love the way you say my name when you come," he said. His voice, still husky with passion, damn near made me glow.
I touched my forehead to his and smiled.
And of course, there was that.
The End
(:./mookie/anonymity)
