October 3, 2000
Hi people ^_^ Well, I had this nicely formatted and then the comp crashed, and since I'm not wasting another hour I'll just say the hell with it and post as is >_< This was co written with Tabs, and we had fun doing it ^_^ look for a sequel coming that's much happier, though this one ends nicely ^_^ Anyway, on with the fic:
Disclaimer: We don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters (but the name Richard is all mine! ^o^) We're also not making any money off of this so please don't sue us.
The bearded man sat across from the boy who called himself Trowa Barton. He eyed him speculatively, assessing, sizing him up. The youth didn't seem qualified for the job yet here he sat impassively, seeming rather disconnected. The Ringmaster sighed rubbing at his temples in frustration then once more regarded the boy. "So tell me, why do you want to work here." "I need the money," the boy said flatly.
Trowa took in the man's appearance, eyes darting around the room briefly before settling on him. Tall, muscular, strong, with only the barest traces of a paunch. /He still keeps physically active, and has had some training in basic hand-to-hand combat./ The glance around the room identified all possibly weapons and escape routes. Standard procedure for Trowa. The man sitting across from him drummed his fingers on the table thinking. "You are aware that you don't really possess any training for this job whatsoever. I understand you need money, but I'm sure a young man such as yourself could find other ways to earn income besides working with carnivorous animals and knife throwers."
"I do have training," the boy countered, "more than you'd expect. I know how to handle dangerous beasts, and I'm skilled as an acrobat." True on both counts; he'd learned more about motion and balance and could walk a tightrope without a balance better than anyone. As to the wild beasts, well, the mercenaries were much more dangerous than any animal he could think of. At a glance, the boy didn't appear to be very impressive, he was slender, young and quite pretty looking in fact. He had a hint of underlying grace so perhaps he might be an acrobat of some sort. The man couldn't help but throw out the next comment. He needed to make sure Trowa wasn't just another runaway looking to "have fun." He cleared his throat. "You *do* realize, there are other places where you might find work. A boy with your looks could probably be making a much larger salary at 'The Golden Lotus' on Cherry Street," he said throwing out the name of one of L3's most infamous brothels.
Trowa's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm familiar with the place," he said, leaving it at that. "If I didn't have the talents I claim I wouldn't be wasting my time here. I can act, I can perform, and I can handle your so-called 'dangerous beasts.' If you don't believe me, let me see them." "Yeah I have a dangerous beast for you," he said smirking. He laughed to himself at the come on. He figured the boy was either completely oblivious or he'd take the hint and realize the qualifications he *really* needed for the job. In any case he continued to read the application. "It says here you're only 15?" he was surprised. The boy certainly didn't look that old.
Trowa made a show of studying his fingernails. "I'm experienced enough for what you want," he said. Was there a touch of suggestion to his tone? Some hidden meaning in the glance he gave the man under the fringe of his eyelashes? Trowa understood, of course, what the man had in mind, but preferred to play dumb as much as possible. Maybe his actual talent would earn him a place and he wouldn't have to consider... The man raised an eyebrow at him. He wasn't certain but... Well, maybe he should give the boy the true test, see if he was in this thing for real or nothing but a silly little cocktease. He stood up. "I'm afraid Mr. Barton that there's a slight problem with this application. It seems you've had no... physical examination."
Trowa bit the inside of his cheek, though he didn't let it show. Damn it all to hell, he wasn't some whore! But... what else could he do? Necessity forced him to consider his options and they came up short. He sighed mentally and detached himself from the scene as much as possible. Just another body using him... "I'm in top physical condition, but if you really want to see for yourself... well. You're welcome to... 'examine' me." He blinked his perfect green eyes just once. "As a matter of fact," the man circled him eyes wandering. "Our usual physician happens to be unable to attend his duties so as far as applicants go I will have to perform the examination myself." He stopped in front of the boy admiring that flawless skin. He ran a gloved hand down a pale cheek. "As long as you have no objections."
Trowa mentally backed away from the scene. Always the same, someone else to hurt him. No, forget it, don't think about it, don't think about anything. He heard his voice say, "No, no objections." Inside he did whatever he could to ignore what was going on. He began reciting poetry to himself. It always passed the time away when he was with a mercenary. When he came back to himself later, he'd assess the damages. "Good boy," he walked over to the door of the trailer and shut the blinds on the window locking the door. "This way no one can interrupt," he walked back to his desk and opened the drawer. He pulled out a stethoscope. He might have had it in mind to screw the by senseless, however he really *did* need to conduct the exam. "Take off your shirt."
Hands unfastened the shirt absently. His mind replayed songs and lyrics, poetry, anything that could keep him away from what was happening outside himself. A tiny, wistful corner of his mind wondered what it would be like with someone he cared about. The daydream was pleasant. A loving friend, or lover, someone in the medical profession. Concerned, giving him a legitimate exam. The shirt came off. The cold metal disk ran over the boy's chest. Heartbeat seemed normal. He recorded the results, then paused to take an appreciative glance at the lean mass of muscle. "You're quite beautiful boy, bet you've had a lot of 'fun' eh?" he chuckled to himself then unrolled a dusty eyechart taping it to the wall. "Now just read the lowest line that you can."
He had to come back for a moment from his mental hiding space to read the lines. His eyes wouldn't focus properly when he was out wit-wandering. It made it easier not to be involved if he didn't focus on anything. Back now, he was aware of the cold, of the inflections in the man's voice, and was very much afraid. Still, he only had to be here long enough to read the bottom line, which he did. "Impressive." The Ringmaster noted. The boy may only have had one eye visible but he still could see quite well apparently. He smiled then after recording the results walked over to Trowa. "Open your mouth, I need to check your tonsils." The sight of those soft pouty lips was so terribly erotic, and he could feel his pants sudden;t becoming tighter.
"They were taken out," Trowa supplied before opening his mouth. This part of the exam actually made him slightly curious. Nothing bad had happened to him yet. He wondered why that was, and decided not to drift off just yet. Maybe the man was toying with him but too scared to do anything about it. He didn't let down his guard, and he knew he could escape into his mind if he needed to, but he stayed, just for a moment. To see what would happen. The man nodded looking inside with a small flashlight. The boy was telling the truth and he wrote it down. Two more fields to cover and everything would be set. He walked over pulling out a small battery operated blood pressure machine. He unvelcroed the cloth. "Hold out your arm."
Trowa did so with a look of distaste on his face. He never liked these things. They always hurt just a little. He did as he was told, though, ignoring the pressure. The reading went on easily enough though he noted the boy's pulse was a bit high. Recording the numbers he unstrapped the cloth then faced Trowa looking a bit predatory. "Am I scaring you boy?" he asked leaning in closer brushing unruly bangs away so he could see both those emerald eyes. "No," the boy said flatly. It was a lie, but he would never admit to fear in front of him, a stranger. His head was held up at a slightly lofty angle. /I am more than a common whore,/ he thought desperately. /Let him use me... I'm not afraid./
The declaration seemed a bit too monotone for his tastes. "Somehow boy I don't believe you. Why don't I make you a deal?" He cupped the boy's chin keeping those eyes completely focused on him. "Kiss me. I don't mean go limp like a rag and shut it out. I mean *you* kiss *me* boy full tongue and all just like a sweet little slut. And you have the job. Then you can leave, or stay. Do whatever you want. But if you can't... then you're going to have to 'work' for the position."
Trowa fought to keep his face completely impassive while he considered the options. There weren't many. He could always leave in a huff and try to find work elsewhere. That was unlikely, though, since he was so damn young. The only jobs that would take him were either dangerous or illegal, most likely both. Circus work fell into the first category, but it was something he knew he could handle. He had the skills. The only other available jobs in this area were either in bordellos or involving drugs. One kiss, the man said. Only one. "One kiss?" The man nodded. "Of course, however, it better be a damned good one. After all, I need some incentive to let a pretty thing like you go." The sight of those full pouty lips was breathtaking. Hell, maybe he'd even get lucky and the boy wouldn't want to stop just there. He continued to hold the boy's face. "So, are you gonna be a good little whore or not?"
/I'm not a whore!/ something inside him screamed, but he kept his mouth shut. Trowa simply stood up, ignoring the hand on his cheek, and parted his lips as he leaned forward to take the man's mouth. The moment their mouths met his mind shied away, hiding again, leaving a very dull reaction. Wonderful. The older man skillfully pushed his tongue between the other's lips plundering that sweet mouth. He pulled the boy closer, taking every advantage of the short opportunity hands wandering to that tight firm ass squeezing before he let the boy up for a breath. "I can tell you do this sort of thing often. You got the job." He smiled evilly. "I'm sure a sweet little tramp like you gets around. Shame you feel like being such a cocktease. Aren't I worth spreading your legs for? You suddenly develop morals?"
Trowa simply turned away, sickened. He dove into the far recesses of his own mind, shying away. His body reacted without thought, head down, shoulders slumped. Small as possibly. Less visible. He said nothing. Inside, his heart ached. /Just once... it would be nice, just once, to be kissed by someone who.../
/But that kind of thing doesn't exist./ The man puzzled over the boy's reaction. He hadn't seemed so fragile initially. He looked more like a lost little boy right now than anything. A pang of guilt hit him. He tried to soften his voice. "You got the job alright boy. You earned it. And I mean your skill... You wouldn't be here if you couldn't handle it." He didn't like admitting he made an error, but... "Forgive me for acting unprofessional. You're just... very beautiful."
"...I'm not a whore." It was all Trowa could bring himself to say on the subject.
It didn't matter. He forced himself to stand up, taking a long look at the man. /Just once.../ "And I'm not beautiful. So don't lie, because it won't get me into bed with you," /It would be nice.../ The Ringmaster blinked at him. "No. I'm not lying. I have my standards, and I don't sleep with ugly boys." He snorted "You think I'd want you if you didn't look like that. Look in a mirror boy, You ever wonder how many men probably get hard just looking at you?" He couldn't believe the kid didn't realize his effect on people. /So nice.../ "you think I'm..." Trowa touched a hand to his cheek in an absent gesture. He knew he was not ugly, attractive perhaps, but beautiful? Nobody ever said that... except to get him in bed. But... here was someone saying it who wasn't expecting anything from him. He caught a glimpse of himself in the window reflection. /It would be so nice... for it to be real. Just once./
The man nodded smiling. "Yeah kid, don't be surprised if you steal the show," seeing the look on Trowa's face somehow made him feel better about himself. He didn't know what it was, but there was just something about the boy that drew him. Alert, alive eyes looked at himself in the window's reflection a moment. /Just to make it real... for a moment. Even if it isn't real, it would still be nice.../ He looked at the ringleader, eyes wide. Handsome... he was handsome. And he thought Trowa was beautiful.
The man sat down on the desk,, in front of the boy and leaned over. He smiled at Trowa then removed the gloves from his hands. He set them down and then turned back to Trowa. "May I touch you?" he thought it best now to ask. "Just... give me a chance to make you feel beautiful," /Feel...?/ He didn't feel things. Trowa was stone, rock, empty, worthless, he had no feelings, he was dead, more than dead, an animated corpse. /It would be nice.../ "...to live one night. Yes, Please."
The man nodded smiling gently at him. He took that young angel face between his palms and then lightly kissed his cheek, then lips softly. "You deserve at least that much kid," he whispered. Nanashi... kid... Trowa... "What do I call you?" he asked. He leaned into the older man's body, watching him. /I can't even give you a name in return./ The man shrugged not accustomed to being asked that question, mostly he had grown used to the honorific of "sir" but... "Well," he began honestly. "My given name is Richard... but sir would suffice as well." He looked down. "It seems appropriate to ask this time. Please, kiss me?"
Trowa nodded solemnly and pressed his lips to the man's. His hands felt awkward; he had no idea what to do with them. They settled onto the man's hips uneasily. His lips were soft and unsure. This was nice... for right now. The Ringmaster slowly licked at Trowa's lips gently urging them to part. He backed against the desk allowing Trowa to lean into him for support his own hands left the boy's face and wandered to the small of his back unsure if Trowa would be comfortable having his hands elsewhere.
He shifted in the ringmaster's arms, his own sliding around the older man's waist. His tongue flicked out tentatively to taste Richard. Strong... very strong, very handsome. /It would be so nice.../ What the hell, he thought. This would be worth more than a simple wham bam thing. It'd been a while since he'd done this for more than just physical release. He hands wandered down lower still tenderly caressing Trowa's soft flesh being gentle, not rushing anything. He took advantage of the opening to slide his tongue inside Trowa's mouth tasting how sweet it was inside moaning.
Trowa's tongue traced the underside of the intruder. He tasted wonderful. The boy pressed his chest against the taller man, yielding to him, molding to his body. So perfect. Slightly callused hands massaged Trowa's firm ass. He pulled the boy closer hesitantly breaking the kiss trailing long wet kisses along his smooth neck, licking at the boy's ear whispering low hot breath blowing inside. "You're so beautiful, gorgeous,." he complimented honestly.
Trowa threw his head back, panting as Richard's mouth moved over his throat. He could feel the older man's arms tighten around his body and shuddered. Part of him wanted to run and hide in the back of his mind, to push this away, stay safe from the hurting. But he wanted so much for it to be real, just this once. "Make it real," he begged. "Don't make me have to hide again..." Sensing the boy's inner turmoil, he smiled at him and nodded quietly before slowly moving to nip at his collarbone, hands releasing him moving over the tight muscles of his stomach and then to his chest, thumbs flickering over small pink nipples. "So pretty," he murmured continuing to taste the boy.
The boy's eyes closed against the shock of sensation. His head swam with the sensory overload. His own fingers sought the other's body guiltily, tracing patterns on his chest, up to his shoulders, and kneading very gently. "M-more?" His mouth moved down replacing one set of hands on the boy's chest with his mouth. His tongue licked the hard sensitive nub teeth ghosting over it while his hand continued to fondle and pinch. He maneuvered the boy around until he was the one against the desk, then urged him to sit on top of it.
Trowa complied and bruised the back of his knee in the process but he was firmly seated on the table top. He tugged at the older man's shirt, pulling it from his pants and popping the bottom button in the process. He was too far gone to care. The man eagerly discarded the garment. He gently pushed Trowa's legs apart with his knee then moving in between them, arms going around that slender waist pulling the boy closer to him. He lifted him up easily around the waist sucking on the tip of his ear. "You're sure about this?" he questioned. /I'm not sure about anything.../ "Just... don't hurt." He gave in, after that. He wanted to pretend. This would be the closest thing to loving someone he'd probably ever come. It was still someone using him but this time it wouldn't be as painful, not physically. He allowed himself to imagine being held like this by a lover, a considerate one. Richard did, after all, ask if he was sure. He could pretend.
Lifting the boy against him, he slowly unlocked the side door of the office which connected to his private room. The bed wasn't very large, but it would do. He continued to kiss his face gently even as he laid him down on the bed. His hand slowly massaged the boy's thigh as he sat down next to him leaning over raining small baby kisses over his hand up to his elbow. "No pain... promise." Trowa nodded, then shut his eyes tightly. He pictured the room beyond him as something else. His own room, someplace. Comfortable, inviting. He kissed his lover gently, feeling the other man's experienced touch against his skin. This was no longer a stranger, but someone he knew, if only he could think of who... it didn't matter. He stroked his lover's chest teasingly, silently asking for more.
"I really wish you'd keep your eyes open," he said suddenly sighing leaning over the boy a little but not hovering. He brushed bangs out of Trowa's eyes kissing him softly on those full lips. "They're so beautiful when you're not hiding them." He kissed each eyelid then moved his hand further up Trowa's thigh until his wrist barely brushed the boy's fabric covered cock. The boy jumped at the contact. /I can't, I can't look. I can't see that this is all just a dream. / He kept his eyes closed, but not gladly. He wanted to look up and see someone who loved him. It was just a sick fantasy; the boy was warped and starting to realize just how bad off he was. That touch startled him, and freed him in a way. His own hands slide over the other man's body, down his ass and over his thighs.
Seeing that Trowa's eyes remained shut the man sighed but didn't let it deter him from enjoying those soft caresses, his hands wandering over the zipper of Trowa's jeans. This was the turning point. After this, there would be no stopping, only pleasure. He looked at Trowa fingering the metal piece. "May I? It's still not too late if you're unsure," he said trying to comfort the boy. Trowa shivered silently, his arms tightening around the other man's waist. "Just do it, please." Before I wake up and realize this is not a daydream. Before I come to my senses and start crying or screaming, or before I hate myself and you, too. / He shivered, yielding to his lover.
Richard nodded understanding unzipping those tight jeans sliding them down past his slim hips. He had to chuckle at Trowa's lack of underwear. Removing shoes and socks, he pulled them off the rest of the way drinking in the sight of the boy's nude body. "You're beautiful, such a pretty angel." He placed a light kiss on the tip of Trowa's erection. The boy thrust his hips instinctively when those lips touched him. He felt, for the first time, what it was like when someone did that to him. He usually ignored it, hoping everything would all go away. Usually it didn't, though sometimes it had in the past... but now he was *encouraging* this, rather than discouraging with a lack of response. Still, he had to keep his eyes closed, to make this real.
The man opened is mouth, taking in precious little of Trowa's cock wanting to tease the boy into opening his eyes. He wanted to hear those sweet lips encouraging, pleading with him. His hand wrapped around the base of the boy's cock while his mouth took in only the head tongue swirling around it. His other hand fingered and massaged Trowa's balls his goal to overload the boy with pleasure. Trowa's hips moved steadily in time to the man's teasing touches. He wanted to open his eyes, to look at his lover, see that this was real, but he knew if he did, he'd see the same thing as every other time, someone using him who didn't really give a damn. Just once this would be for him, it would be something good. The moment Richard's -- when did he start thinking of the man by his name? -- free hand wrapped around his sack, though, it was a lost cause. His eyelids flew open in startlement. Nobody ever tried to make it feel good before. He looked at the man, afraid, but too far gone to loose the arousal he'd brought to Trowa's body.
The man's eyes were soft as he looked up at Trowa. He was happy he could make it so good for the boy. He didn't want to use rough fingers, so instead he moved, hand still stroking the boy's cock while his mouth sought out the puckered opening of Trowa's tight rosebud. He licked at the hole urging the boy to relax before pushing his tongue inside him. No hatred. No abuse. No cruelty. He may not love the boy but he did care. He was *trying* to make it good. The thought nearly stopped Trowa's heart. He nearly sobbed, then cried out as the man's tongue slipped past the tight ring of muscle, startling him.
The man continued to push in as deeply as he could, screwing the boy with his tongue while his hand continued to pump Trowa's cock. He wanted to much to hear the boy ask, plead of his own volition. On the same note, he desperately wanted to be inside of him. "God, oh God," Trowa panted, squirming and pushing back against the slick intruder. He wanted... needed... God, but he couldn't ask... could he? For once he was getting something just for himself... if he asked...
He was a slut already. A whore, absolutely worthless. Asking for it wouldn't sully him any more than he already was. "Please, do it!" With a satisfactory nod, the ringmaster started moving, slowly at first within the boy, hands gently stroking the boy's face, his hair as he leaned over lightly kissing those soft lips quickening his pace, wanting to give Trowa real pleasure. He felt empathy for the boy, something about him begged for kindness. And on a baser level, he hoped perhaps Trowa could care enough to become a lover.
Absolutely worthless... but God this felt good. He yielded to the other man's body, his mouth parting for Richard's lips -- /No, no names, I never know their names/ -- the man's lips, legs wrapped around Richa-- the stranger's waist. Each movement was perfect, each thrust drove him wild, the pain was almost of no consequence. He moved as Richa-- as the man wanted him to, did as he was supposed to, as he had all those times before, but it was more now. He wasn't hurting, he was enjoying. But that was wrong... He wasn't supposed to feel good! Then everything stopped as his lover -- as the man changed the angle of his thrusts and hit deep into him, in that sensitive, perfect spot. No more thinking. Only feeling. Richard alternated his thrusts, not giving Trowa any time to think at all. He'd go long, deep, then sudden;y speeding up becoming fast, and shallow. He loved the feel of the boy around him and wanted Trowa to feel just as good. He wrapped strong arms around the boy's slim waist pulling him up so eh was sitting in the man's lap. He licked at Trowa's ear, whispering in a husky voice. "This is a lot more intimate." He kissed Trowa's neck loving the way he was now able to thrust even deeper inside the boy.
The boy whimpered as he sank into Richard's... yes, Richard's lap. His hands clenched on his lover's shoulders, steadying himself while the man moved into him. /Much more intimate,/ Trowa agreed silently, nodding his approval. Yes, but it frightened him. He felt good, God, too good, when it ended the pain was going to be unbearable. But for just this second he clung to the other man and kissed him, passionately, forgetting about the future for just this one second. This change in the boy's attitude was much welcomed. He knew he could open the boy up to pleasure, make him feel so much. Trowa had seemed such a sensual creature, and now Richard was seeing this firsthand. He moaned his hands moving down to Trowa's ass lifting the boy up before bringing him back down onto his throbbing cock. He trust up into the boy wanting nothing more than to make that sweet boy his.
Trowa couldn't think anymore. Everything was feeling now. He wept, feeling himself on the edge of something, something he sought after like a bitch in heat, but it was elusive. His body tensed, aching with wanting. Trowa's nails dug into Richard's shoulders. "Please..." But he did not even know what he was begging for. Only that it was soon, but not soon enough. Hearing the boy's plea, Richard leaned in closer, licking at the boy's ear. "Don't worry sweet one, I know what you need," he whispered. His hand moved between them, encircling Trowa's erection firmly stroking still thrusting up into that tight warm body knowing he couldn't hold out much longer. His mouth was all over Trowa's neck, face, finally settling for a final time on those soft sweet lips.
Trowa gasped twice, then bit down hard on Richard's mouth as his body was awash in pleasure. It was so good it hurt; he shuddered, seed coating Richard's hand, and still the man stroked him, coaxing every drop from his body. He shuddered painfully as his body, oversensitized, fed emotion and pleasure directly into his brain, nearly overloading him. Feeling that wonderful warm body tighten around him, Richard soon followed, coming hard calling the boy's name out quietly as he filled the boy with his hot fluid pulling out, but continuing to hold him, gently caressing and kissing his forehead. "You're such a special boy Trowa," he whispered hoping to make him feel more at ease with what had happened.
Trowa was slowly coming back to himself, lingering in the remains of his orgasm lazily, not quite ready to face himself of this stranger he let fuck him. Instead, eh rested his head on the man's shoulder, pretending, just a moment longer, that he was in the arms of one who loved him. He could imagine himself being laid down, and held, and kissed and caressed. His lover would treat him gently, with kindness and dignity. He would sleep here, in this bed, knowing he would not be sent away in the morning, and that this had been done from mutual feeling, admiration at least, love at best. He let himself pretend, for just a moment more, before pushing away from the man and closing down all his walls, searching the floor with his foot for his clothing. "I'm nothing. I should be leaving."
The man blinked at him then rezipped his pants with a sigh. He watched the boy sadly. "I.... really wish you wouldn't leave," he said quietly. He didn't want things to end like this. The boy deserved so much better. He took Trowa by the hand kissing his palm. "Would it really be asking so much?" he asked thumb rubbing small circles on the back of Trowa's hand. Trowa grimaced darkly, pulling his hand from the man's grip. "I don't know what kind of game you intend to play, but you got what you wanted out of me. Leave me alone; I'm not interested in being someone's permanent fuck toy." But it was his own fault and he knew it. The man responded only to Trowa's invitation. It was his own fault for pretending that he was loved. He should have known better. He gave the man the opportunity to use him, and the man did. It was no different from the mercenaries.
Richard sighed. "I don't care if you still want to 'fuck' or not I..." he felt so out of place, awkward. This was new territory for him, something long forgotten the boy had awakened inside of him, a desire to take whomever hurt him and kill them. He couldn't say he loved the boy but... "I wasn't to know you, I want to kill those bastards whomever they were who did this to you. I ...don't know why but... I'm drawn to you." He admitted. "Liar!!!!!" Trowa's voice was hoarse. His fist was balled, ready to connect with the man's face, but he couldn't... he couldn't hit him... He dropped his arm to the side and looked away. Better to die now, maybe, than have this sonofabitch taint his dreams. "You're just like everyone else!" the boy snapped, snagging his shirt from the floor and struggling to get it on, then giving up. He was too upset to be coordinated.
The man was on his feet. He risked injury standing behind the boy wrapping strong around him breathing in that perfect scent of Vanilla and musk. "I can't change your past. But... whatever happened... I can be part of your future, the circus can. I think that... somehow I need you here very much. We all do. And I want to b e able to use your time here, whether it's a month of a lifetime to help you heal."
"You don't care about me," the boy hissed. He rubbed at his stinging eyes, cursing their betrayal. Richard kissed his cheek, tenderly softly meaning to soothe and relax him. "Don't cry he said his tone reassuring. "I'm sorry for making you feel this way." He never would've imagined a simple interview could lead to this but... feeling that warm perfect body in his arms made him wonder. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
Trowa withdrew a little further into his shell. That's all there was of him, really, all that was left. He let himself forget that the real world was not so kind or forgiving. And yet, here the man was, holding him anyway. "Just leave me alone," he hissed. "I don't need your pity." Sudden;y, he was spun around so that he was facing the man. Richard gave him a slap, not painful just enough to hopefully snap him back. He looked into those deep green eyes perfectly serious. "I *do* care. You're a beautiful young man, who should have had someone to love and cherish him when he was younger but didn't. I want to make that right. You deserve so much more Trowa don't you understand that?"
The boy's mouth opened but no sound came forth. He stared at the man in shock. Slowly, he shook his head. No, Trowa did *not* understand. This was a stranger, someone who shouldn't care, who *didn't* care damn it -- yet he seemed so... genuine. "Why?" It was all he could ask. "Today... you were going to let me... " the word didn't settle well with him but he said it anyway. "rape you without so much as a protest. That's not right. I could handle acceptance, or refusal, but not that. Not too see you stand there so young, beautiful, special... and not have anything left inside. It... hurt me somehow. To see another human being brought to that. You don't deserve that. No one does. I'm not a decent or honorable man.... Really... but just you draw me... your eyes are so perfect when they're alive, sparkling." His hand stroked Trowa's cheek gently.
Trowa drew away, feeling afraid, and knowing he could see it. "I deserved it." His voice was flat, dead. "I wanted you to... I deserve to hurt. It doesn't matter. I don't matter. Just let me leave."
"Why should I let you leave? Only so you can be hurt again? You matter! To me! Never think otherwise. He deliberately walked in front of the door. "If you can honestly say that you like being hurt, you like feeling worthless, that you'd rather leave than give yourself a chance then I won't stop you." He sighed. "I don't understand how I can repulse you so much though? That you'd rather leave, go back into the same cycle, the same faceless men rough hands, hateful callous stares then spend another second with someone who just wants you to be happy, then... I won't understand, but I'll respect it."
Trowa looked away. His face was damp with tears he didn't know he was shedding. Everything was wrong, falling apart, this man couldn't know... couldn't care... it was a nightmare, a dream he trapped himself in, nobody could care about him, nobody *should* care. "I don't want it... but I deserve it." The man smiled slightly, not at the boy's tears, but because he admitted that he really didn't want it. He wanted so much to help him, take away that pain. He easily crossed the distance between them taking the boy by those slim shoulders. "No. You don't. None of it. I don't want to hear you talk like that because it isn't true. You deserved love." He kissed Trowa's forehead. "to be cherished," his cheek "To be happy" and finally settling on those soft pink lips drawing the boy closer. "Don't push me away. Please."
Trowa stiffened, then slowly relaxed into the man's... Richard's... arms. He felt his throat close up over a painful lump. He couldn't swallow without tears creeping from his eyes. Awful, he shouldn't be crying, this was just a dream and he didn't deserve this wonderful man holding him and telling him he was worthy of something. Richard didn't stop holding the boy, whispering soft reassurances to him, pulling him back onto the soft bed, but not forcing him to lay down, He simply held him closer stroking his hair. "I hope it's not asking too much, but please... stay. It gets cold here. I won't ask you to do anything you don't want, but you feel so right in my arms dear child."
There was still a lot of confusion in the boy's mind, but he did try to calm down. Maybe... maybe he was being used in a different way, but this wasn't as bad as all the other times. Yes, he was being used, just more gently. That he could accept. He yielded to the man's touch. Of course, nothing was different. He deserved to be hurt. This one was just being kinder about it. He'd seen it all before. He nodded, allowing his head to fall on the man's shoulder the way Richard probably expected from a subservient. He was still being used, but it wasn't as painful.
Unaware of all the thoughts swirling around in Trowa's head, Richard just smiled at him gently. "There's no place here where there would be room for you to stay... I could arrange for you to share a trailer with one of the other people. He mentally crossed his fingers. "Unless... you think you could stand living here." The thought of having Trowa there, where he could look after him, and be there for him, maybe even help heal those painful wounds. Trowa expected this. The man wanted to keep him close, under scrutiny. Fine, it would have to be that way. He needed the flexibility the circus offered, and he needed to hide out in plain sight. "Alright." He could find someone else to stay with later, when Richard had his fill of the boy.
Still oblivious, Richard smiled tenderly and kept strong arms around Trowa. He gave a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood which still seemed all too serious. "Just forgive me if I can't keep my hands off of you. You're so pretty," he said teasing. "No, it's okay." It was the price he had to pay. Stupid little slut, he deserved this. Of course. His hand rested on Richard's waist. The man would undoubtedly want something soon. He yielded, gave in, gave up. It was his own fault, giving in to a fantasy like that. His own stupid fault... He had no choice now. "Whatever you want to do is fine."
Richard sighed then pulled away from him. He looked into those deep green eyes. "Don't tell me what I want to hear. Ever!" he gave Trowa's shoulders a gentle shake for emphasis. "I want to know what *you* want, think , feel. I don't want a puppet, I want an *equal* Do you understand me?" "Why?" Trowa pulled away. "I don't have anything for you! I'm not worth it! Just... just leave me alone! I'm sick of... of being... just..." He couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. He shoved Richard away and curled up at the head of the bed, sobbing.
Richard ignored the violent reaction and sat down beside him, caressing his forehead soothing him. "I can't leave you alone... I don't want to see you suffering. You're so young, so beautiful with your life ahead of you. You deserve so much more than me, than this, but I can only offer you a place to stay, a...'home'... my affection for you, for touching my heart, for making me want to be there for you." He leaned in closer kissing away those tears. "Please, you don't have to hide yourself around me." Trowa's breathing slowed as he finally made himself look up. His eyes were glistening, but his face was an unemotional mask. He frowned, then touched Richard's hand. "I don't understand..."
"I care bout you. I don't want you to have to suffer anymore. When you look so sad, when someone who should only have had his life filled with pleasant things has to suffer. IT isn't right. Not you. I don't want to be another face that hurt you. I want to be the one to make a difference. Someone you could say cared... and... who knows what could go from there." He said quietly. The boy's eyes were dark with confusion, but he did allow himself a slight nod. "Why me? You could have anybody."
"I don't want anybody. They're not skeptical like you are. They don't have that inner light. I saw it, so brief, but it was there, it was beautiful. When you're not hiding yourself you glow. I want to see you shine so brightly like I know you can." He said honestly. HE could have his pick of men or women, but inside he was lonely, and here was a boy who could be that someone... "I'm dead." It was a simple statement of fact for him. He hadn't felt alive in a very long time. Giving himself to Richard stirred his feelings for the first time since... since he couldn't remember when. Maybe... maybe Richard could be something more.
"No!" he said it a bit more sharply than he had intended. "No," he continued mildly. "You're not dead. You're very much alive. You're here, and you're beautiful," /And maybe someday a part of my life/ he thought with hope. He held Trowa in a crushing embrace, strong, tight, but not rough. Trowa stiffened at first, but felt himself relax. Maybe... maybe he wasn't dead, in spite of what he wanted. Maybe. "Maybe?" the boy whispered. "I... can I sleep?"
"Yes," Richard smiled, happily indulging the boy. He laid him down on the bed, then covered him up. He walked around to the other side, also climbing in, but keeping his distance in case Trowa would find it uncomfortable. He hadn't realized it before, but he too was feeling drained. Trowa shifted and shivered, then allowed himself to press back against Richard's body, leeching warmth from him. With a contented sigh, The man's arms encircled him as he held the boy close to him, placing a soft kiss to his hair, feeling hopeful about the future for the first time in a long time.
Owari
Tabs and Cyrelia J
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