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" Taking it All "Written By: Emerald Pillow Warnings: angst and lemon (so far) Pairings: 1x3x1, 3+4 Disclaimer: I don't own GW or the characters, though I'd like to. You can try to sue me for messing up their lives royaly, but all you'll get is my cat that looks like Trowa, but named Duo. Author's note: This is probably the first fic that I started posting before finsihing it. . .so it may take a little longer to get everything up than usual. . .but I hope you enjoy it, and hopefully your requests will push me to finish it. . .since I haven't finished one in a loooooooooong time. Kudos
"Taking it All "
Chapter 3 Heero's eyes ran the memo as he absently placed an almond flavored pocky stick into his mouth. In truth, he had been reading the same memo for quite a few minutes. Every time he attempted to start reading, on the second line, he found himself thinking of Trowa. Not just the great sex they had on the hood of Heero's car, but everything in general about him.
Maybe it was just Trowa's way of assuring himself that Quatre really is what he wants. After all, it's been three years since their relationship started. By now, it had to be getting extremely serious . . .probably close to marriage serious. It would only be nature for Trowa to second-guess himself, especially since everyone knows that he isn't well experienced in that department. Quatre was his first real boyfriend; everyone before that had been merely a bedfellow. Heero sighed and laid the memo on the desk, figuring it best to give up on reading it. By this time, he finished his stick of the coated treat and was reaching for another. Why would he be different than every man in Trowa's life before Quatre? Chewing the nuts off the pocky first, he allowed it to rest half way in his mouth as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Why did thinking about this depress him? It wasn't the first time that he tried a relationship with someone, only to have it fall apart. The difference was that the women Heero had dated didn't have someone on the side. Nor did they know him as well as Trowa knew him. Everything was different. Maybe that's why he's filled with wanting to eliminate Quatre from the equation. He felt that he really could start something with Trowa . . .but it was worthless. Why stay with someone for three years if you didn't think the world of him? Aside from last night's comment about Quatre's love making skills compared to Heero's, Trowa hadn't really said too many things against his boyfriend. Now that Heero thought about it, Trowa didn't really talk about him when they were together. Maybe guilt was the reason . . .or maybe Trowa was just trying to keep him from mind so that he could pretend that he wasn't going out with Quatre an he could focus on what being with Heero was like. Heero chuckled to himself. He was getting way ahead of himself there. Wishful thinking. It just made him happy to think it was true, even if it was a split second's worth. As long as Quatre was around, he could never have Trowa to himself. At that moment, a thought entered Heero's mind. Before it could take full form, he pushed it away. He didn't even want to consider that an option. Finishing his pocky stick, he reached for another to find that it was the last one in the pouch. Examining the box proved that it had been the last pouch too, meaning he'd have to pick up some on his way home. Thinking of which, he glanced up at the wall clock. It was nearly eight in the morning; his shift was almost over. He had enough time to head to the locker room, change, and stop at the vending machine for a bottle of water, before punching out and going home. Remembering the memo, he folded it and stuck it into his pocket. Maybe he'll be able to read through it after he slept . . .that is, if Trowa doesn't invite him to breakfast as he has made a habit out of doing lately. He followed his plotted routine of changing and getting his water. Just as he stepped into the break room to punch out, the clock hit eight. It was like clockwork from the moment he punches in every evening to the time his shift ends. Every thing was the same . . .but it didn't matter. A smile pulled his lips as he stepped into the crisp morning air to find Trowa waiting for him. Hiding that smile, he walked over to his friend as he climbed from the car. Perhaps he would be getting breakfast after all. However, a smile wasn't present on Trowa's lips. In fact, he seemed sick . . .and serious. "You're here early." Heero spoke when he was close enough. Stepping closer, he could see how badly Trowa was feeling right now. "You ended up getting sick didn't you?" "We need to talk." Trowa stated regrettably. Somehow, Heero already knew what it was about. "We'll go back to my place. You shouldn't be out here too long." Nodding, Trowa climbed back into his car, and Heero slid into the passenger seat. This was better than making Trowa sit in the parking lot until his car warmed. Silence descended, and it wasn't the same as yesterdays. Heero wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Trowa had to say. He dreaded it. This would be the last time they would see each other as more than friends. That much he was sure of, and it caused tears to burn his eyes. He had gotten emotionally attached. He knew he shouldn't have, but every second thus far felt so right. Everything inside him had been well at ease and content. "You're being quite." Trowa's voice was a little hoarse, and Heero wondered if it was due to the possible cold brought on by their actions last night, or if Trowa had orally pleased Quatre that morning. "Long night. You should probably be resting right now Trowa. I'd hate to see you sick like you were last year." "I'll be fine." "Does Quatre know you're with me?" "I told him that I would be seeing you today." "You know he'll throw a fit if he finds out you're with me when you should be trying to prevent getting worse." He was stalling. He just realized it. Most of him didn't want Trowa to go into the subject that was mentioned. "I couldn't wait." Heero looked over at the driver, and noticed a shiver slightly shaking the long coat. He ended up staring a little longer than he had originally anticipated. Trowa's complexion was pale. His eyes proved that he not only felt horrible, but he hadn't slept throughout the night . . .and judging by the level of heat that he had adjusted to the car's heater, Heero guessed he was having chills. "Look at me." Heero whispered as they stopped at a red light. At first, Trowa hesitated, but then did as requested. It was just as Heero feared. "Does he know?" "I haven't told him anything yet." "Why?" Trowa studied Heero's features, wondering how best to answer. "What's the real reason you wanted me for this?" "There isn't a person alive that I trust more than you. I didn't want to be vulnerable around anyone else. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or cause problems." "That's not the problem." "Then what?" Trowa turned his eyes back to the road. Either his eyes were watering, or he was close to crying. "Trowa?" "It's the opposite Heero. You're making me feel things that Quatre never could." "What?" "I can't explain it . . .I'm not sure how, or what exactly I would be explaining." "I don't understand." "I don't either. All I know is that no matter what I try, or how much effort I put into it, I can't recreate it with him . . .it's only you Heero, and I don't know why." "It's just sex. I'm sure you can teach him." "No. It's not just sex. It's everything. The way you look at me . . .when you touch me . . .and when we kiss . . .how much you make me want you with just simple acts . . .and despite all this, I feel the same exact thing with Quatre as I always have." "So what are you going to do?" "I don't know. If I tell him about us, it's going to kill him . . .especially since it's you. Had it been any other man, I know he wouldn't take it as hard." Heero reached over to cup his ungloved hand. It was like a block of ice. Yet, beats of sweat were gathering at his temples. "Baby, we should probably talk about this some other time." Heero reached to wipe the sweat to find that Trowa's flesh was on fire. Trowa swallowed hard and attempted not to lean into Heero's touch as he always had. Forcing himself from the simple pleasure was enough to heighten the threat of tears. Why did he want to cry over this? It's not like he was breaking up with Quatre. It shouldn't bother him like this . . .but it was. "Trowa, pull over." Heero's stern voice cut through his thoughts. Without question, he did as demanded. "Let me drive." Was all Heero said before climbing out of the car. Not having enough energy to do the same, Trowa slid over to the passenger side. He watched as Heero took his spot behind the wheel, and was grateful that his lover wanted to take over. As he stared at Heero's profile, he lost his nerve. He didn't want to stop seeing the Japanese man. "When we get to my apartment, you're going to get some sleep." Trowa reached over to cup Heero's hand in his. It was strange. Every woman Heero ever dated wasn't granted the privilege to hold hands with him. He had told Trowa before that he often felt awkward doing something like that, yet he was comfortable with Trowa. "Heero, I don't know what to do." "We'll talk about it after you get some rest." Trowa leaned closer to Heero and rested his forehead against the broad shoulder. Keeping his eyes on the road, Heero reached over to smooth Trowa's hair. "Baby, you should have just stayed in bed. This could have waited until later." He could feel Trowa's fever, even through his coat. "I came to you to call this off." Trowa whispered weakly, stinging Heero's heart. "But I don't want to . . .I don't want to give you up." Heero pulled into the parking lot of an all night convience store. His intentions were to pick up flu medicine. Since he wasn't vulnerable to such illness, he didn't have any in his medicine cabinet. His eyes ran Trowa's features; he was crying. Seeing it tore at Heero's heart. He wanted to stop it, at any cost. "Don't worry about it now. Concentrate on getting better, then we'll figure this out." He reached to wipe away Trowa's tears. This time, Trowa cupped his hand and closed his eyes as he leaned into Heero's touch. "I want to feel this, always." Heero wanted to agree, but he didn't want his words to sway the Latin one way or another. Then again, Trowa never really thought clearly when he was sick, he could very well be talking from the fever. He lightly ran his thumb along Trowa's cheek. Slowly, Trowa's misty eyes opened to Heero. "I'm sorry." "It's okay." In truth, he was content with this position, but Trowa released his hand and pulled from him. "I'm . . .going to get you some medicine. Stay here." That said he kept the car, and heater, running while he left his sick lover. Once to himself, he silently cursed what he was originally going to say. What was the use in wasting breath? The trip into the store to purchase supplies was a matter of minutes. As he returned to the car, Trowa had fallen asleep. ~ * ~ Chapter
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