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"Standing Outside the Fire"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: Mine! Mine! Mine! Pairings: 2x5, 3x4 Warnings: AU, language, twisted humor, lime, lemon,
some angst, significant OC, brief moments of sap, romance, a bit of
violence Archived: On Gundam Wing Diaries Betas: Velvet *huggles* Author’s Notes: You know those dreams that
you keep dreaming over and over again for weeks? The ones that don’t
go away until you write them down? Yeah, that’s exactly what
happened. I passed the idea by one of my betas, to see if it was worth
putting on paper. Her response was “Write it. NOW.” So I
wrote it. The rest is…ah, what follows after my insane notes.
Feedback is my diet…and I’m getting
pretty lean so send me something to munch on, okay? Flames will result in me tormenting you for your
inability to read warnings. And I’m good at tormenting. Just
ask the boys. *emphasized* /thought/ //phone// "Standing Outside the Fire"
Chapter Fifteen: What Matters Most, II "Regret for the things we did can be tempered by
time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable."
That morning he had heard a few rumors, which had been bounced around his group of friends. Word was that Quatre Winner and Duo Maxwell were queer…or at least bi. Alex had been interested in this bit of gossip. He’d been wanting to get his hands on the little blond ever since he had laid eyes on him. So he concocted a plan to get the Arabian to notice him. It was second period, and PE class. The boy’s locker room opened to let in a flood of teenagers into the gymnasium. Alex maneuvered through the crowd until he was right behind Quatre and reached out, grabbing a handful of tight ass. The blond yelped and spun to see who had touched him. Trowa reacted even faster. Before Alex could complete his plan by giving Quatre a wink and lecherous smirk, Trowa had grabbed him by the throat with one hand and pinned him against the side of the bleachers. Alex—who hadn’t even been aware that Barton was nearby—twisted feebly, reaching up with his hands in an attempt to move Trowa’s arm away from him, trying to get the crushing vice on his throat to ease so that he could breathe. “Let…go…” he begged. Trowa pinned him with a glare, tightening slightly until his prey stopped squirming. He was aware of their stunned and silent audience, but he didn’t acknowledge them. “You will not touch him,” Trowa hissed like red-hot iron thrown into a cold sea. “You will not think about him, or even breathe the same air that he does. Am I clear?” “Barton!” Coach Denman shoved his way through the crowd, more confused and surprised than alarmed. “Let him go.” Trowa ignored his presence, eyes still latched onto the gangly teenager hanging helplessly in his grip. Alex, too frightened and hypnotized by the promise of death in those green eyes, found it impossible to look away or ask for help. “Am. I. Clear,” Trowa ground out, hand flexing in anger. “Yes,” Alex managed to choke out. It was like someone threw a switch. Trowa let him drop, gasping and choking as he drew in air into the starved lungs. The brunette turned away with cool indifference, meeting the coach’s stunned eyes calmly. There was no hint of the violently charged person from the moment before. Quatre only relaxed when Trowa turned away, subtly passing a soothing hand over the small of his back. For a moment, he had been forcefully reminded of Duo’s Shinigami Mode—not a comforting idea. To relieve the tension, Quatre answered the unspoken question in the teacher’s eyes. “Alex…touched me, sir. *Very* inappropriately.” “Hm.” Denman looked at Alex, still red in the face with a hand gingerly touching his bruised throat. “Alex, go to the infirmary. We’ll straighten this out after class. The rest of you start stretching.” Denman stayed on the sidelines as his class split into teams and started playing basketball against each other. And he stayed in an area that allowed him to observe Trowa Barton more clearly. In the three months that he had known him, he had never seen the quiet teen react so violently. Or react much at all. What he had witnessed simply did not fit with what he knew of the boy. So why… During the hour of class, Denman started to get a glimmer as to ‘why’. Quatre’s face was worried, casting frequent glances in his direction. That wasn’t surprising. Denman could understand that he didn’t want his taller friend in trouble, especially because he was defending him. What caught his attention was how Trowa reacted to this distress. Every time Quatre started to fidget, the brunette would touch him—a gentle touch against his shoulder or back, a light caress against his hair. In fact, hardly a minute would pass by before one of them would reach out to touch the other. And Trowa always wore this soft, tender smile when he looked at Quatre. Denman felt like someone had hit him in the back of the head with a sledgehammer. /They’re in love…it’s blatantly obvious when you look at them. I would say lovers as well. They touch and accept touch without even realizing it. Damn. No wonder Trowa reacted so violently. He wasn’t protecting a friend, but his lover./ Not to mention that little stunt put an unspoken but blatant mark of possession on one Quatre Raberba Winner. At ten till the hour, he blew his whistle. “Alright, boys and girls! Put the balls away! Barton, over here.” Quatre bit his lip, catching Trowa’s arm and speaking rapidly. Watching them, Denman could almost swear that Trowa was about to kiss the blond in reassurance before he remembered where they were. Whatever he said must have worked, for Quatre reluctantly separated from him and disappeared into the locker room. He waited with an impassive face for the lithe teenager to approach him. The gym was empty by the time they stood facing each other. “Trowa, in the short time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you act so violently.” And god knew that he had been baited enough for justifiable homicide. “Why now? There must be a reason.” Trowa kept his expression bland, mentally holding a debate worthy of the senate. The whole truth, half the truth, or complete silence? Judging from the man’s open posture…half would probably be the best route. “Quatre was attacked Friday night.” “Then the bruise on his cheek…” Denman muttered thoughtfully, feeling the final piece slide into place. Trowa’s jaw clenched in remembered fear and anger. “Yes.” Oh yes, Denman thought he saw the whole picture now. “Who?” “Rodney Parker, Jenkins, Alan Smith, and another that Quatre and Duo didn’t recognize.” Their own classmates, in other words. No wonder Trowa was on edge. He probably felt like he was behind enemy lines. “Alright, Barton. I think I understand now, and I’m certainly not willing to punish you for defending someone else. Just one last question, which I’m not going to force you to answer since it’s for my own personal curiosity.” Trowa canted his head, waiting patiently. “How long have you two been involved?” Trowa managed—barely—to catch his jaw before it made a crash landing on the hardwood floor. There was a distinct twinkle in the coach’s blue eyes, and he relaxed when he realized that there would not be any disapproval or disgust to deal with. “Three months,” he admitted almost shyly. Denman grinned smugly. “Thought so. Okay, go change.” Trowa returned the smile with a nod and did just that. + Quatre was leaning against the side of the Science building, legs spread out in front of him on the grass and a textbook lying ignored beside him. His head snapped up as Trowa approached, eyes searching for any hint as to how things had gone. “Well?” Trowa dropped down in front of him, moving an arm so that he could settle against Quatre’s chest. With a contented sigh he settled himself comfortably, pulling the blond’s arm around his waist. “It’s fine.” Quatre grumbled in Arabic under his breath. “A simple ‘it’s fine’ will *not* cut it, Trowa. What did he say?” “That he understood why I had reacted like I did, and he wasn’t going to punish me for defending you.” Quatre let that sink in and nodded. “Good.” “He was also curious—” Trowa let his eyes slip close, feeling warm and sleepy in the morning sunlight “—as to how long we’d been going out.” Quatre tensed. “And?” “No worries,” Trowa assured him with a small yawn. “I think he was more amused than anything. He might even approve.” “…mm.” Quatre was thinking furiously even as he snuggled Trowa closer to his body. “Still, I wonder how he knew.” “…” “Trowa?” Tilting his head, he tried to see his lover’s face, groaning when he managed it. “You’re as bad as a cat, you know that? Put you in a patch of sunlight, and you instantly start napping.” Trowa didn’t even twitch, blissfully content to be exactly where he was. + It was fourth period, which meant Spanish for Duo and Wufei. They had run across Quatre and Trowa during break, and the blond had filled them in on what had happened the period before. It had started Wufei thinking. Now that Trowa had proven that he could and would take anyone down that dared to touch Quatre, the Arabian was probably safe from most of the idiots in the school that would dare to touch or hurt him. Wufei was in a slightly different situation—everyone in the school knew that he would defend what he found important. But no one there knew that Duo was important. The more he thought of it, the more he realized that he needed to publicly show that Duo was his. He had hesitated in doing so before just because of how he was raised—you didn’t show affection in his family. At all. End of story. Wufei had worked on that training, knowing that it would hurt Duo if he were so aloof, and not really that willing to keep himself away from his boyfriend anyway. It had taken almost two weeks of constant effort, but it felt natural now to just hug Duo when he was near him, to accept being held if Duo sat next to him or came up behind him. If he could undo his parents’ teachings in that area, why not this as well? Class ended, and Wufei made up his mind as the bell rang. To hell with protocol, he would touch Duo however he wished in public. And damn anyone that said something to him about it, too. Wufei slid an arm around Duo’s waist as the other stood. Duo was used to the gesture…but not at school. Wufei rarely showed any physical gesture of affection in public. He looked up sharply into his boyfriend’s dark eyes. “Fei?” Wufei sighed softly. He’d forgotten that while he had spent an entire hour thinking this through, Duo hadn’t been privy to his thoughts. Quietly he explained, “Anyone with a brain could tell by looking at you that you can more than handle yourself. Unfortunately, most of our classmates do not fall into that category. But they know better than to mess with me.” “Or anyone that belongs to you?” Duo concluded wryly. “…yes. Does this…bother you?” Duo nuzzled his way under Wufei’s chin, returning the loose embrace. “Naw, babe, it doesn’t. This way I can be all demonstrative on you.” Wufei relaxed. “Good.” He met Duo’s eyes as he looked up at him, reading the silent question in those wide amethyst eyes. Just how far was Wufei willing to go in public? Wufei wasn’t by nature an exhibitionist, but he didn’t think that kissing Duo in public was a big deal. His head lowered, angling slightly to meet the soft lips in a rather unchaste kiss. “So it’s true. Chang really is queer. Who’da thought?” Wufei looked up, eyes smoldering at the large and brutish looking teenager in front of him. “Was that statement or challenge?” Tyler’s eyes flickered. “Statement.” “Then keep moving.” Seeing that Wufei wasn’t interested in a fight, Tyler relaxed and let his bravado take over again. “He *is* too pretty. I guess any guy would be tempted if he came onto ‘em.” Duo slid free of Wufei’s hold, smiling wickedly. Only the smile didn’t reach his eyes. The only expression there was steel. Duo walked right up to him, almost nose to nose before breathing “Move aside, *boy*. You don’t have what it takes to handle me.” Tyler fell back, swallowing hard. He’d seen Wufei fight once, the year before. There had been cold anger burning in the Chinese teen’s face as he took his opponent done in three efficient moves. That same look was in Maxwell’s face. And Tyler in no way wanted to test that. Wufei regained his hold on Duo’s waist, wanting to move them out of the area quickly. He wasn’t sure if Shinigami had made an appearance or not, but he wasn’t willing to wait and find out either. Duo let himself be led away easily enough, even sliding his own arm around his boyfriend’s waist in return. After a minute Duo observed brightly “That was relaxing.” No, this wasn’t Shinigami. Wufei swallowed a smile of relief and offered dryly “Since you apparently want to challenge the whole school, I’m sure that if we stand on a table in front of the cafeteria and start making out, there will be a few dozen people wanting to beat us up.” “Nah.” Duo slid his hand suggestively down Wufei’s backside. “I say we go find my Bad-mobile and go parking instead.” “If you keep doing that,” Wufei warned half-seriously “we won’t make it to the parking lot.” “Teacher’s lounge?” “Pick the lock.” ~*~*~*~ |
