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"Keep In Time"Written By: Dentelle_noir Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing AC or the
characters. They belong to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. This
is a work of fiction and written for fun, not profit Rating: R Warnings: AU, sap, angst, fluff Pairings: 3x4. Summary: A suspicious accident leaves Trowa without
a skating partner, sentencing him to a year without competition. Quatre
is an injured dancer, trying to find a way to live without his joy.
Together, they make new rules and find a new path. "Keep In Time" Chapter 14 The sun was barely waking when Quatre found himself staring at the ceiling, unable to really sleep. Tomorrow he planned to introduce Trowa to his cousin at the party, and he was getting nervous about it. He couldn’t go back to sleep if he tried, so he pulled out his cell and texted Trowa, “u awake?” Within moments, Trowa replied back, “Just out of the shower. Getting ready 4 practice. U?” Quatre jumped out of bed, tired of being there when he couldn’t sleep anyway, and he riffled through his things, finding a pair of warm leggings to slide on under his jeans and a light T-shirt (He planned to snuggle under one of Trowa’s sweaters while at the rink—not that Trowa knew that. Not yet anyway. Being devious was so much fun! And dancers knew devious well). Quatre texted him back, “I’m awake and ready. Pick me up?” Within fifteen minutes, Trowa’s jeep was outside of Quatre’s house, with two thermal-mugs of warm coffee waiting in the cup-holders, and the passenger door open for him. Dimitri didn’t react when he saw Quatre there at morning practice, but then again, the large Russian was damn tired and stayed flopped on the benches as he watched Trowa warm up for a few minutes. Quatre had taken a good lookout spot straddling the boards as he sipped his coffee and snuggled into the warm over-sized sweater that Trowa had dropped on his shoulders the minute they exited the jeep. Good old, predictable Trowa. Quatre loved the smell of his things, especially his morning practice things- whatever shaving lotion Trowa put on in the mornings was always smeared into the collar of his sweaters, and Quatre just loved to smell it. Trowa’s morning warm up was routine, starting with ringing the ice, then turning this way and that, a small spin, then back to ringing. It was like doing laps, really, and Trowa stretched out his arms while doing it. Quatre knew this one pretty well, actually, as Trowa did it at the school rink (which was rapidly becoming a puddle at this time of the year.) Then Quatre hopped over the boards and retrieved his own skates. Dimitri just grunted acquiescence and didn’t bother to stop him. Quatre jumped the boards and raced to catch up with Trowa, sliding up beside him with a smile, and moving into a step-sequence along with Trowa, concentrating on remember the moves, but doing it well, and laughing gently when Trowa GRINNED, “You’re remembering!” Quatre turned around on the skates, and continued to push off, ringing the ice right beside Trowa…flying. It was exactly like flying. He let his arms open, lifting one leg off, letting his body melt into the dance position, and still FLYING. When he began to slow down, Trowa moved, grabbing his hips gently, pushing off hard and propelling them forward. Dipping himself and taking the same position as Quatre, Trowa moved around the ice so close it was nearly dangerous, but Quatre wasn’t worried, and Trowa wasn’t frightened. They worked so well together, nearly perfect on the ice. Trowa brought his leg down and straightened, then brought his hands to Quatre’s hips. Immediately Quatre moved to press his arms around Trowa’s shoulders, excitement in his eyes. He knew what those body signals meant: UP! Trowa lifted him right off the ice, kicking into a spin that had Quatre whooping for joy, laying back and letting his arms fall open like a flower blooming. Petra moved down the stairs, holding her enlarging stomach absently, and sat down beside her husband, trying to snag one little sip of his coffee. “If only Quatre was a girl, all our problems would be solved. Competition strictly says ‘one lady and one gentleman’ and Quatre isn’t a lady.” She quoted with a sigh and made one more try for his coffee cup with no avail. Dimitri ran his fingers through her hair, and kissed her temple, “I know, darling, but…perhaps Quatre will agree to be Trowa’s training partner. He helps him out a lot, just look…” On the ice, Quatre was back on his feet, laughing as he demonstrated a third position, holding his arms aloft like a crown, looking more and more like a ballerina. After a moment’s hesitation, and feeling a little foolish, Trowa tried it just to make Quatre happy. Then he followed Quatre into a combination position, one arm extended and the other out beside him—a perfect position to reach for his partner… Trowa didn’t mind that one so much, and Quatre corrected his angle gently, curving his hand, talking about gentle fingers as Trowa happily did anything just to have Quatre touching him. Petra laughed, “He’s got Trowa wrapped around his little finger! Trowa would never do arm positions for me! I bet if we told Quatre to tell Trowa to skate singl-” “Don’t even say it, Petra” Dimitri grunted, cutting her off, “Don’t even jinx it. If Trowa wants to skate with Quatre, at least to practice…don’t you think we should let him?” Petra didn’t say anything, but she stood and walked closer to the rink. “Quatre! Come here please, Trowa, it’s time to work on your axels again.” Trowa sighed gently, kissing Quatre’s temple warmly, then pushed him towards the benches, and jumped up into a crisp single axel, doing one and a half full turns before landing brilliantly. Quatre glared jealously at Trowa’s little move, and he pushed off on his skates, getting the force he needed… If Trowa could do it, so could he! He wasn’t going to let Petra take him off the rink without a fight! He skated faster, moving with confidence and drive, and then pushed off the ice, pulling his hands close to his body and turning 360 degrees perfectly. But he wasn’t as practised as Trowa at landing with the cumbersome skates on, and with a gasp of shock his knee buckled under him as he over-balanced, landing in a heap with a growl of frustration. Trowa was over there in a moment, picking him up, “It’s not as easy on skates as it is on your feet!” he chided, “You’ll get it! I’ll work with you.” Petra waited for Quatre to get over to her, and she motioned him towards the boards, stopping him from exiting the rink. She looked him over appraisingly, tapping her index finger on her chin, “…do you want to learn an axel? Can your foot handle it? Dimitri told me you were injured.” “My toes were badly broken. It makes dancing very hard…But skating… my whole foot works, not just the balls of my foot, and the pressure is even. I like it. It doesn’t hurt me…and I like to dance. I NEED to dance.” he said quietly, nearly whispering the last bit. Petra watched the ice, watching Trowa do turn after turn after turn, still doing them well since Quatre was watching. She hummed, “He practices every morning from 6am to school time, and every evening after school.” “I know that, Petra! I’m his boyfriend!” Quatre said with a teasing laugh, “Believe me! He’s nearly impossible to spend time with!” “How’d you like to skate for us? Skate with Trowa as his practice partner? It’s not fun, though. It’s hard work. You guys can’t compete, but. It’d be dance training for you without injuring your foot more.” Petra laid it out on the table and watched the blond as he stopped to seriously think about it. She liked that he wasn’t one to say no at first to the training! And he worked well with Trowa, well enough to get him back in shape to compete if they ever found another partner for him. “I need to think about it before I commit.” Quatre answered honestly, “Will you let me come to a few of his practices, then decide?” Petra raked her eyes over him, then nodded once tightly, “Alright. It’s a deal. Be here tomorrow at 5am. I’m sure Trowa will pick you up.” And with that, she turned and walked away, smiling to her husband when only he was looking. Dimitri grinned, a little mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Oh, but you get to tell Cathy.”
The practice had kicked Quatre’s ass with a vengeance… it had been murder just to sit down in class after the 6am boot camp of practices. Dimitri insisted that Quatre be treated like the professional athlete that he was, and that meant that Quatre was doing jumps all morning. He hadn’t landed ONCE. After a while, they switched to doing pairs elements, where Trowa would pick Quatre up, then launch him into the air. Those were successful, only because Trowa was very good at catching him and gently putting him down onto the ice before they flowed into the next element. Actually, it was a blast. Quatre could barely wait for the afternoon practice to do it more! On the way to school, Trowa had bought him a non-fat hot cocoa in celebration of Quatre’s accomplishments, but he’d been suspiciously quiet ever since. Trowa looked upset about something. But he wasn’t saying anything to Quatre. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any classes together until gym, and Trowa hadn’t returned a text yet. Quatre was starting to think that Trowa didn’t want to skate with him… Or worse, that he had some crazy idea that skating partners- even if they couldn’t compete together- shouldn’t be dating each other. He began to worry about that more and more as he revived texts from other friends-- One from Heero reminding him to bring plastic cups to the party tonight, and one from Jason asking what movie he wanted to see on Thursday, but nothing from Trowa. During second period, he worked out a plan to find out for sure. They had a new routine for lunch times, and Quatre planned to ask him then. It had started out innocently, with it raining when they had been eating outside and Trowa suggesting that they run to his car to finish lunch… and then they ended up in the back seat all lunch period with their hands down each other’s pants- that was, until they had the window knocked on by a teacher and only Quatre’s charm got they out of a detention. Since then they had found that the gym changing room was the perfect location for elicit affairs. The coach usually locked it, but with the classes all doing outdoor lessons, he had slackened. And all they had to do was wait until their classmates left and then they could duck back in and go straight to the back. No one was the wiser. And for a week straight Quatre and Trowa had managed to slip in unnoticed during lunch, hands all over each other and tongues down each other’s throat. Quatre usually led them towards the back, to the shower-stalls, walking backwards into it, guiding Trowa by the lapels to crash their lips together, and then Trowa would yank the curtain closed and they were in their own little world with each other, using tongues and hands to make the other moan, a quiet competition always to see who gave out and came first. Today was no different, and Trowa pinned his lover to the cold cement wall and popped Quatre’s button, wanting to get inside and touch him, wanting to make him moan, desperate to hear him groan him name. Quatre hissed in pleasure, his hands fisting into Trowa’s shirt hard, his head thrown back in pleasure and his breath coming fast, desperate for more… There was something different in his eyes though as he watched Trowa, thinking about something else…something other then what Trowa was doing to his cock… Maybe he was right to worry. Trowa didn’t want to skate with him. Quatre licked his lips…and outright asked him, “Do you want me to skate with you? Yes or no, Trowa. I won’t be mad.” Trowa laughed brightly, kissing Quatre hotly, moaning against his neck as his grip tightened around Quatre’s member, showing him just how much he wanted him. Quatre laughed, his eyes dancing in pleasure…and then he groaned, nails digging into Trowa’s shoulders as his body shook in pleasure, his blood pumped, and then he was screaming Trowa’s name as he spilled all over Trowa’s hand. Panting, Quatre shuddered in aftershocks against the shower-stall wall, holding Trowa tightly, smiling in bliss. Trowa laughed playfully, and bent over to nibble his neck, “You lost,” he purred hungrily, his body pressing Quatre into the wall and grinding against him from shoulders to knees, his still very-neglected cock poking Quatre’s hips. The blonde wrapped his arms around Trowa’s neck, and then slid down his chest, then down and down. Trowa could feel himself aching for it by now, nearly begging Quatre to stroke him just a little-- GOD he could feel his brain short-circuiting just waiting. Quatre’s dainty fingers popped the button on his pants and lowered the zipper, every second making Trowa moan harder, his body trembling in desire, “Please Quat…” he begged breathily. “Do you want me to skate with you?” Quatre asked again, his whisper echoing in the shower stall, making Trowa look him right in the eye. As if it wasn’t obvious?! “Yes, Quatre. I want you to be my partner. My partner, in everything,” Trowa whispered back sincerely, letting Quatre hear in words what Trowa said every time he touched the blonde. “What about Cathy?” Quatre asked again. “Cathy isn’t skating! I just want to skate with you!” Trowa said sincerely, and growled a little in repressed need. Quatre’s hands had stopped stroking when they started talking, and while Quatre had gotten off, Trowa was left still aching hard and with precious few minutes of privacy left before the next gym class came in and caught them. “All I want is you, Quatre,” he groaned. Quatre seemed pleased, very very pleased, and he let his hands slide down Trowa’s chest, “You’re the best,” he said, leaning in and kissing him hotly, his tongue pressing inside the taller boy’s mouth and exploring, surprising Trowa was his little show of dominance- but FUCK it was hot. “Are you coming tonight? To my cousin’s party?” he asked with a growling, hungry voice that Trowa hadn’t heard before. “Yeah. Yeah you want me there, I’ll be there. I might be a bit late…” Trowa panted. Quatre smiled. Then suddenly, Quatre’s hands were tugging his pants down, and he dropped to his knees. Quatre shoved Trowa back against the tiled side of the shower. The sudden display of aggression made Trowa’s knees go weak in desire. Then his world went white. Trowa moaned so hard he felt like the world shook as Quatre took his cock into his hot, eager mouth, making Trowa’s hands fist in Quatre’s hair. Holy HELL they hadn’t done THAT before! And Quatre was there, licking him like a lollipop and sucking him deep, hollowing out his cheeks and bobbing somewhat clumsily, but SO GOOD. He couldn’t keep up with everything that his gorgeous little boyfriend was doing to him, and he let out a keening moan, curling a little around Quatre and digging his nails in tight before exploding down his throat. The blonde cleaned him right off, and pulled off of him, kissing the head of his cock gently, affectionately. Smirking. Trowa shook, feeling his insides vibrating and his knees barely holding him up, “Oh fuck baby,” he groaned, leaning up against the shower stall in order to stay standing. Quatre stood, moving to the edge of the shower stall, licking his lips to clean the mess off with a wicked smirk. “Try not to be late,” he teased and left the room with a Mona Lisa smile and a flick of his hips, leaving Trowa there to pick up the scattered fragments of his blown mind and make it out of the locker room before he was busted fooling around with his boyfriend in school. No… His new skating partner. Everything was absolutely perfect. He was with a guy he really cared about. He got to do what he loved. Perhaps they couldn’t compete together, but with Quatre he could skate until he found someone he could compete with. And he did it all without Cathy’s help. From where Trowa stood (still leaning against the shower stall with a goofy grin) things couldn’t get any better than this. Now, all he needed to do was keep things like that.
Sleepy, but excited, Quatre awoke as his alarm went off at promptly 4am. He rolled out of bed and dragged himself into the shower. He decided to dress like Trowa, and put on his dance pants and a T-shirt, throwing a tight-fitting ultramarine sweater overtop, just because he knew that he wasn’t used to working in the rink temperatures and wanted to impress the coaches, not show up bugging Trowa for his sweater because he liked the smell. Socks and shoes on, and skates in hand, Quatre met Trowa outside his door before the skater had to ring the bell and wake Iria. They began while still in the dressing room, stretching out over the benches, bending and moving. Quatre knew just about all the movements already, and within a few minutes he was feeling ready to go. They walked sock-footed to the stands, then laced up their boots as close to the rink as possible. Trowa said that he didn’t want to dull his blades any quicker than needed, and then they were on the rink. Starting circuits, Quatre could see Dimitri and Petra moving about in their office, pouring cups of coffee and waking. Apparently they trusted Trowa to warm up without them? It was rather refreshing to see coaches trusting their pupils so completely-- Quatre remembered a few of his dance instructors that wouldn’t even let their students breathe without being expressly told. Trowa’s voice wafted over the quiet of the morning ice, “Ready for a little challenge? We’re going to ring twice, then we’re going to turn backwards at the north corner and keep going-- just follow my lead, and you’ll pick up the choreography easily,” he said, beginning to move, sound starting to pump out of the speakers when Trowa flicked the remote. Trowa hadn’t been kidding, it was simple to follow
him, the movements were almost natural, and just following behind
Trowa and knowing the song, he was nearly in sync with the pattern
of front-back turns. Dimitri straddled the boards like usual, and
began to bark out motions, watching Trowa have to teach Quatre basically
what each word meant, but watching as the blonde took to it, remembered
the movement, and always threw in a little something extra to match
the beat of the music. Dimitri just hoped that Quatre would stay,
because when both he and Trowa broke choreography to shimmy with the
song, Dimitri knew it was a match made for the Hall of Fame.
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