"For a Lark"

Written By: Kaeru Shisho

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language

Pairings: 2x3x2

Summary: A Valentine special: after both men suffer from unrelated “breaks”, Trowa and Duo meet on an isolated satellite

A/N: My deepest thanks go to the kindness of Snowdragon and WaterLily for editing and encouraging me to complete this

"For a Lark "

Chapter 4 - Renewal

Modern medicine could work miracles. Rebuilding bone, muscles, and skin would have been impossible without it. But when it came to building the muscle, regaining balance and strength, technology's answers fell short. It meant hard work and lots of it. I didn't know if Trowa had enough drive to do it, but I did. I would have to supply the missing will-power to get him up off the bed and out the door to the antigravity gym.

I was getting a little ahead of myself, though. Actually, he would need a few days of rest to give his body a chance to accommodate all the changes and for his immune system to kick in. Thankfully, Trowa was amenable to following directions, taking his meds, and letting me wait on him. I gotta say, though, that Trowa with a three-day growth of beard was awesome. He had the look of a frontiersman of lore. Very sexy, actually.

I told him so; the frontiersman part, geez.

His hand flew to his face and he scratched at the bushy growth, and I could have sworn his ears reddened ears. "Itchy. I need a bath."

"I'll help," I said without thinking. "Ah, you know, getting you to the shower and all." Gulp. I'd do whatever he needed, but I was bending over backwards to avoid sounding like a pervert. Sharing bathing facilities with other men provided me with fantasies and horrors galore-- beautiful bodies, glistening wet, creating a minefield of dangers, like meaty fists ready to pulverize my face for observing them and probably kill me; let's not forget that part, because they wouldn't.

"Okay," he said with a huge sigh. "Is that lunch? Smells great."

"You're a great patient, Tro." I set the makeshift tray on the bed beside him and scooted it to within his reach. I had made us both tinned, ham-spread sandwiches with pickles on the side and a fruit drink.

"It's the least I can do," he said as he reached first for a pickle. "I can't see how making this any more difficult on me or you would help. Where did you find these?"

"Well, that import grocery store we went to the last time got these in. Now that I'm here, I guess, they're interested in beefing up their offerings. I love pickles."

"Quatre sends you jars of pickles, too?"

"All the time. Hooked me. Middle Eastern pickles are great. Which reminds me, I'd better let him know I'm here. Wouldn't want a pickle shipment to go to L2 by mistake."

Trowa grunted in a new way.

"He knows you're here, right?" Hilde had to get the number from someone.

"I didn't tell anyone."

Our eyes met over pickles. "Why not? The guys are your friends," I asked not expecting an answer.

Maybe I was hoping the other four ex-pilots weren't all close buddies while I was culled from the flock and disregarded. It hadn't hurt so much when I was busy with work, or later when I had been in my own mess and hardly noticed that no one called me much.

"That's okay, bud. You don't have to tell me. I kinda get running and hiding when things aren't going great. Like on that show last night, remember? The big cat that got hurt hid itself from the others. Weak meant vulnerable, which meant you were dead meat."

He nodded; I think he meant it as "gratefully." I took another bite of sandwich. Then again, he'd asked me to change channels midway through the show, so possibly he was just humoring me so I'd talk about something else. I thought he liked handling the big cats in the circus, too. Before I could quiz him about that, the front door buzzer sent me out of the room. "Wonder who that can be?"

I didn't bother with call boxes. It wasn't that far from the lobby. I waved at the doorman to let in the caller, who was wearing some type of uniform, and carrying two boxes, one large. The hospital?

"Hello."

"Hi, I'm Marc from the hospital. I have a delivery for Mr. Barton."

"Thanks, Marc. I'm Duo and since he's unable to move, I guess I'll take whatcha got." I led him back to room number three and held open the door.

"The big box contains a special walker to help him gain some motility. This will allow him to leave the building and get to his workouts."

"He'll love this then, thanks for bringing it by."

Marc handed me both cartons and left. I toted the tiny one and dragged the large one to the bedroom.

"What is it?" Trowa called from his room.

"A walker for you for later and I don't know about this." I handed him the small box to open for himself while I tackled the walker carton.

"Uh, Duo? This is the pass key to an apartment."

"Oh, great! It must have fallen out of your clothes when I carried them out."

"How did you get in to the apartment? I know the doorman kept the building owner out when he arrived without a pass."

"Heh, heh... well-," I began, and so I charmed him with a retelling of my handyman act and lock picking job. And he was amused. He laughed out loud and nearly spilled his drink. He had a full laugh that came from deep inside. It warmed me all through.

I know there was a time when I thought Trowa suffered from expression deficient disorder, but not any longer.

"So the lock's busted still?" The smirk on his face suited him.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Get me the vid phone."

He put in a work order for a new lock and two-- that's T-W-O key passes. One for me. Me. That was so cool.

"If I'd known you'd done that, I would have broken your lock on the first day, heh, heh..."

"If I'd know you could cook, I would have invited you sooner."

That made me blush with the blood racing upwards to my face so fast it burned. "I'll set up that walker and you can give it a try; if you can get off that fat ass of yours."

"'S not fat!" he shouted to my retreating back.

I knew that, obviously. In the past few weeks living under the same roof, lying side by side in bed, helping him with a bedpan, changing clothes, yes, I'd noticed that his was a very toned, highly desirable ass, damn it anyway.

Shit! I would have to go out, shake up some action. Art the bartender came to mind. He'd headed me in the right direction once before. Maybe he'd dance with me. Anything. I wanted to be touched, feel the hard panes of a man's chest crushing against mine, pulse into a warm channel. Argh! I had to get the image of Trowa's hot as hell ass out of my head. But would he mind me leaving him alone and going out? He surely was tired of being cooped up, too, and it would be a rather callous thing to do.

I had the parts out of the box and paused to read the instructions. No sweat. Connecting parts went fast. Fit "A" into "B" and slide back and forth until lock engages. In... out. Out...in.

Ah, geez...could I make any more sexual connections? Jerking off in the shower I would do. Later. After he was asleep.

With the walker assembled I saw that he could rest a knee on the support and push with his good leg, never having to put weight on the injured leg. I tried it out, raised the height a little to accommodate his extra inches, then imagined how he'd look using it. Those sinewy arms, broad shoulders with muscles bulging with the effort of supporting his weight.

Holy Moley! I was going to have to get us a futon so I could have a bed of my own. Yeah. That would help. There had to be a variety here of my favorite Sanc store, Futon Fusion, that carried the super-deluxe model made from Sanq Red Oak. I'd had one like that on L2 and loved it. Ugly as hell with its massive carved headboard, but grooving Gothic style. Should have kept it. Yeah, and carried it on my back to the shuttle?

"Okay, fat ass, I have this ready for you, but the note from the doc says not to go out for two more days." I rolled it into the bedroom, where he was up on an elbow, watching me. "So you can get used to it in here a few days before we go out."

"We're... going out?" The hitch in his voice made me wake up to what I'd said.

Going out. I was close to slipping up royal now! Those words coming from, say, Quatre, who was dating the Queen of the World herself, it would mean "going out the door." Coming from me, who had been known to ask a guy out for a date, it implied "going out on a date." I had to set that straight fast.

"Yeah. Says here you have your first appointment in three days at the Low Gravity Gym, that's in caps, too."

"Low Grav-that costs a fortune. Duo, you are not paying for--!"

"Don't get your sweats in a twist there. You are covered by your veterans' benefits."

I grinned because he didn't know. The carton contained his benefit confirmation. I wondered if the other ex-pilots knew they qualified as veterans, and pushed away the notion that they did and hadn't bothered to share that information with me-- or Trowa, apparently.

"What--?"

"We are war vets and get health benefits. Probably a whole lot more, like education and loans and stuff. Doc said she'd have the office look into it, and it looks cool for you. So we go do your workouts in low gravity until Doc says your leg can take your full weight."

I looked away as he wiped at his eyes beneath his bangs. "T-thanks."

"My pleasure, to be sure."

Blushes and tears. Trowa must have felt secure around me to reveal that range of emotions. Maybe it was a first, or maybe I'd just never noticed before. I hoped the later wasn't true. I hated to think I had been so blind to this man's quiet presence as to miss his sensitivity.

He needed to drink liquids so I brought him a soda. After that, Trowa took a nap. There was no use fighting the drugs he was taking, and one of them was intended to knock him out. I took that important shower and felt less *tense* afterward.

The locksmith arrived to repair the shorted-out lock. He was baffled as to how such a thing could have happened. Playing dumb, I agreed that it was quite the puzzle. He removed and replaced the entire unit, then insisted that he show me how to use it properly so I wouldn't "bust" it again. I thanked him-- rather than "busting" in his face-- and he left me with a pair of passes.

The pass key to Trowa's place looked like any other, but to me it was genuinely special. A truly unexpected friendship had come out of nowhere at the best of times, and this card was a concrete representation of it. My key.

When I looked in on Trowa, he was still sleeping, so I tottered off to the kitchen to prepare our dinner. I cooked a fabulous, meat stew bursting with odoriferous goodness, tossed up a vegetable-rich salad, which I stowed back in the refrigerator to chill, and baked cookies. I was so happy. It wasn't unbound joy or anything that extreme, but it was a high I hadn't felt for many months. Maybe a year. Had I really been unhappy for that long?

"Duo?"

Trowa was awake and taking his meds with the remnants of the flat can of soda.

"Yeah?" I padded into his room and sat on the edge of the bed. "What can I get you?"

His eyes traveled across the bed to my braid. This time he surprised me by grabbing the tip. "It's wet." He looked up at my face. "You had a shower."

Oh, God, he wanted one. "You ready for yours? How about we test out the walker and get you cleaned up?"

"Okay. There's a cover to put over the cast to keep water out at the top and bottom. Over there."

"Found it."

While I pulled the plastic sleeve over the cast and secured the openings top and bottom, he stripped off his t-shirt. He was wearing sweat shorts, which would have to go.

"You have a clean set to change into?" I asked.

"Closet floor."

I found things cleaner than what he'd had on and made a mental note to do laundry later.

The walker was a lifesaver. He was terribly weak, the bulk of his energy resources apparently still being spent on healing. I set the water temperature and collected towels, shampoo, soap, and a razor. He rolled into the bathroom. I looked askance as he dropped the shorts, but I can tell you his was a pearly, white, luscious ass-- untanned. When he tried to get into the shower without the walker support, he nearly fell and would have had I not been close enough to catch him.

"Shit!" he hissed.

"No kidding! Don't want to break anything, bud. I'm gonna have to hold you under the spray."

He nodded. "Your clothes will get wet."

"I got more. I'll do a wash later, too. So, how about I support you from the back to start with?"

"Yeah."

Good thing we were friends, that's all I gotta say. It was all I could do to hold him up while trying not to get a hard-on. I could really fall for this guy. God, thinking that sent a chill down my spine that hurt. I could have cried. I was loving my friend who could never be more. He needed my help, but I needed him. Oh, God... this was hard, er, bad.

With his back glued to my chest and my arms wrapped snugly around his waist, he washed his hair, face, chest, arms, and finally his privates. I helped scrub his back, upper back, not his ass. I didn't think I could have hidden my feelings if I touched him there.

Then he slammed off the water flow. "Shave later. Tired."

I believed him. He was flagging already. We did an awkward shuffle step to get him out and to his walker where he could rest his weight onto the one knee and towel off. I returned to and remained in the shower to peel off my wet t-shirt and jeans.

"Next time, remind me to take off the jeans first," I said. "This is stupid."

"I think I pointed that out," he had the gall to chuckle.

"Fuck you," I grumbled in mock anger. He chuckled more.

I squeezed out as much water as possible and draped both garments over the shower door, where they continued to drip. I dried off with my damp towel, tightening the towel around my braid a moment and then kicked my boxers to the side. I wrapped the towel around my hips and looked up. Trowa was staring at me.

The temptation to wiggle my hips and ask him if he liked what he saw was incredibly intense for a second. My inhibitions were breaking down around him, and that was a scary thing. Flirting with him would send all the wrong messages. I'd be out on my nose in a minute; even in his condition, I knew the man was strong. Just look at that torso, those arms-oh, Geez Louise.

"It's just water," I said. I had to say something to fill the space between us.

"Uh, huh." He held up a shaking hand. "I'd probably cut myself."

Shaving! I had to keep my mind on what he was saying. "How about you get in bed and I'll bring the shaving stuff in there?" Then I'd have to do it! What was I thinking?

"Okay."

I could get myself into the trickiest predicaments. First, I had to put clothes on and both my clothes and Trowa were in the next room. I wanted to give him time to put on something before blundering in, too. Drat! Life could be so complicated.

"It's okay now," he called out. Well, not so complicated. Sometimes, it seemed as if I was trying to construct a Gundam out of a soup can.

He was in bed, waiting. I did my darnedest to look nonchalant wearing only a towel as I crossed to the bed, under which was my bag of clothes. "Man, I'm almost out of everything." I didn't look his way as I yanked on a pair of dry boxers and dove back into the bag for pants and a shirt.

I shouldn't have been so worried. Trowa was resting, eyes shut. Why would he want to be checking me out anyway? I was the gay one, not him. Plus, I wasn't much to look at. I was no hunk; I was rather skinny. I wasn't tall or dark or handsome. I was short and pale and my features tended to the delicate, shall we say effeminate? Not that I was girly. I was tough as nails. I just looked, well, pretty, or so I'd been told. Girls liked me because I appeared nonthreatening. Gay guys liked me because I looked like I'd bottom for them. Straight guys thought I was a pushover.

It hit me again how nice it felt to have a friend like Trowa like me for me. I owed him respect and a top-notch shave.

"I'll be back in a sec with the stuff," I said.

After gathering what I needed, I piled the things on the bed beside him, put on my professional face, and got down to business.

"So, I thought I'd put a towel under your chin, like that, yeah. Some shaving cream...and here I go."

Actually, it went fast. His beard hair was softer and thinner than mine. As he matured, his jaw line had retained its taper to a narrow chin that was strong, but not linebacker robust. His nose was straight and freckled, again displaying that sun-kissed proof of having lived out-of-doors on Earth. I shut off all temptation to kiss his lips, but I was tempted, and that irked me. Why couldn't I clear my head of those insane thoughts?! I scraped his cheeks baby-butt smooth again, and was done.

"I use an aftershave," I mentioned while dabbing at the leftover lather and cleaning him up.

"I've noticed. Sure, go ahead and give me the deluxe finish." He even gave me a quirky smile.

I laughed, slapped my limey-musk scented aftershave on his face, and collected the shaving tools.

"Feels good. Thanks, Duo." His hand caught one of mine as I gathered the towel, and he gave it a squeeze. "I'm beat again."

"It's too early for you to sleep. Why don't I move in the TV?"

"You can try."

I got his okay to move his TV into the bedroom, but doing it wasn't so simple. He hadn't a piece of furniture tall enough to put it on, but I was up for a challenge that day.

"Sorry. Can't help you," he said, yawning wide. The effect of the drugs on his system and physical effort of moving and bathing had drained him of energy.

Seeing that he was about to fall asleep again, I devised a plan. "I got it covered. Have a short nap and I'll be right back and we'll eat dinner. Need something at the grocery."

With my key in my pocket, I left Trowa, the current source of all my baser notions, and went out on my own. If I saw one more poster recommending a product to improve my sex life or to "Put some Romance into Your Life" I would scream. I seriously needed a man to distract me from thinking of Trowa as a sex object. I didn't want chocolates or flowers or underwear, well, I'd accept boxers, if they were plain. I wanted a lover's caress. I wanted more, but I'd settle for a dance and a romp.

However, I was currently searching for a crate. There had to be someplace where crates were stored. Everything we used on the satellites came in plastic crates that were used and reused. One of the smaller ones would make the perfect TV table.

My legs took me to my favorite grocery store, where I regarded the possibilities for a moment. I could steal or ask. Asking meant I could be turned down, and stealing could lead to me being turned in, if I was caught. It would be hard to hide a large plastic crate on my back. I stepped in and asked. To my delight the clerk took me to the back where piles of crates were stacked, waiting to be picked up and returned to the distributor.

"Be my guest. Take your pick. Some broken or get damaged. No one counts." He pointed to a corner I hadn't seen. "I'd take one of those. They got wheels."

Yes, they did. "I think I will. Easier to get it home. Would you write me up a receipt so I don't get stopped for stealing it?" I could have pulled off "worker" again and probably made it back without raising anyone's suspicions, but I was in a hurry to return to Trowa.

"I guess I can."

He wrote me up and let me out the freight exit in back, saving me a block of cart-rolling. The doorman actually held the door for me and the pass key worked like magic, allowing me entrance to the apartment.

"I'm ho-ome!"

Trowa had awakened, "What's that--? Oh."

I could tell Trowa was impressed as I rolled in his new furniture piece. It was the perfect height for the TV, and when it was all plugged in and providing him entertainment, I felt like I'd accomplished something for the day.

We ate our delicious dinner with the news while in bed. Pretty cool. We'd moved on to the cookies when the nature program came on about the savanna lions and hyenas fighting over a dead carcass. It was a good thing we'd finished with the rest of dinner, because after a half an hour show the dead animal parts didn't look that far removed from the stew I'd made.

When I asked Trowa about the behavior of the tame lions he worked with in the circus, he chided me in a sharp tone, "There are no tame lions, just trained ones."

He went mute after that and I knew him well enough to know when to shut the fuck up. By the time I'd cleaned up the kitchen, he was asleep again. After reminding myself to look into buying a futon for me to sleep on, I slipped under the covers and shut off the light.

That night he slept curled around me after another crying interlude in his sleep. It broke my heart to imagine his torments, but I was happy to relieve him of them temporarily when I could. If it weren't for the obvious need he had for me to be near, to cling to in his darkest moments while sleeping, I would have looked into buying a futon the next day.

After a few days of indoor rest and recovery, it was clear why eating in bed was frowned on; the place was a mess. I pulled the sheets after transferring Trowa to the dead-clown couch. Then I rolled the TV back into the front room for his entertainment, while I gathered kitchen and bath towels and tons of dirty underwear and left the apartment. The laundry was one floor down in the so-called basement. There I found a long line of empty washers, filled two, pushed the buttons for auto-detergent, and left to get the rest of our worn clothes.

There really isn't anything like straight forward, manual labor to clear your mind for more creative endeavors, like thinking and planning for our outing. I would be taking Trowa outside later in the day for his first physical therapy session. He was looking forward to the activity, and with the let up in the quantity of medication he was taking he was sleeping less and had more strength. I could see improvement each day.

I had been on the satellite for two weeks, and yet much about him was still an enigma to me. He hadn't informed any of our ex-pilot friends of his accident or of his new address. He, in fact, hadn't received any calls from anyone except his sister, who he said called when I was in the shower. Hilde's call was an unexplained fluke. So, he'd cut himself off from all his friends when he came to this satellite, one of whom had been important enough that he'd worn her ring up until then. And although his accident occurred while working at the circus, I was positive it had nothing to do with his acrobatics and something to do with the big cats. Something terrible. There were times when I felt he was on the verge of telling me what happened, but then a veil would drop between us and he'd change topics.

He was waiting for me, looking so fine, dressed, walker in line to escape out the door, when I brought up the last load.

"Fold later. We'll be late if we don't leave now," he told me.

"Okay." I actually went weak in the knees when he looked at me. "Damn it all," I grumbled to myself and kicked an errant sock out of my path, "this is no time to become irrational."

It was nice to see him so eager to do something for himself. It was also nice to see him upright. It was nice to just plain see him. Please, God, give me strength so I don't make a fool of myself, I thought to myself. I didn't want to blow this friendship like I had Heero's, such as it was.

The tram ride to the low-gravity gym took fifteen minutes. Walking to and from the stops with Trowa and his walker took longer. We were late and shooed in immediately by a therapist. He showed me what exercises I was to begin with, and I stopped him at that.

"More as we go along. That's good for a start." I waved him off and operated the doors admitting Trowa and me to the Zero-G room.

He and I had trained in places like this before becoming Gundam pilots. We adapted instantly to floating and once Trowa reached the equipment, there was no holding him back. Only the supervisor's screaming at us to let up and save something for the next visit stopped him. He'd had a great workout, a fun time, but he was tired from the first real exertion in a long time.

"That's time. Good work out, guys. Hey, Maxwell. You ever consider doing this for a living? Get away from that office work and be a physical therapist?"

I had to laugh. "Office work? What gives you the idea that I'm an office worker? My genetics aren't wired for office work!"

We had a laugh and he gave me a card. "There's a certification process, but you'd be able to pass after reading the handbook. Call me then and I'll see you get the low-gravity gym."

"Thanks. I'll give it some thought," I promised, and I would, later. I wasn't sure how much longer I'd be sticking around.

The showers were designed to accommodate patients with walkers; they even provided a water-safe cast-cover for Trowa's use. I was there to help him, and God was there to help me, just like Sister Helen said he would. Man, I hadn't thought about her for a long time, or the Maxwell Church, my namesake.

We stopped for dinner before going home. It gave Trowa a chance to rest and I hadn't had time to fix anything. His spirits were good in spite of feeling worn out.

"I can imagine myself walking on my own soon," he said rather dreamy-eyed. "I had my doubts awhile back that I'd get this far."

"Oh, I didn't," I mumbled. I was afraid to look him in the eyes, afraid he'd read my bald attraction for him. I didn't know what I was going to do about that, either. I just knew I'd eventually screw up and he'd know how much I was attracted to him.

"I know. You're really something, Duo, you know that? Something special."

"Er, thanks," I said aloud, but to myself I thought, you wouldn't say that if you knew how I felt about you. In fact, I thought it really hard, so hard I was afraid some of it may have leaked out.

When we got inside the apartment, Trowa made a beeline for the bathroom. I was happy he could get around by himself now. I sat at the couch and folded the last of the laundry, when I heard the beep from the vid phone signaling an incoming call.

"Get it," Trowa called from the bathroom.

I heard the water faucet start up. Great. I pressed the accept button with the "no-transmit image" option and a man's face flashed onto the screen.

I didn't know him. He was clean-shaven with hair the color of old gold, ashy and chin-length. Nice-looking; maybe thirty. Shifty-eyed.

"Okay, so you're not going show yourself. Hide away, then. Listen, I've put off this call for like forever, but it's hard."

The dude rubbed at his eyes and looked upset.

"I-I haven't wanted to admit how much of what happened to you was my fault. Facing you, to... say that to your face..." His voice choked up a moment; he had to stop before going on. "I will tell you how it happened. I promised-"

As much as I wanted to know this story, I really wanted to hear it from Trowa, and when Trowa was ready to tell it. I moved to shut it off, but stopped when his hollow voice started up again.

"I did love you, you know that."

Huh?!

"I-I didn't mean to drop the cage. It's just... when you said... it was over... I was so mad. It just slipped out my hands--,"

"Motherfucker!"

I jumped a foot at the sound of Trowa shouting at my back, and came down off balance, slamming into the vid phone panel and transmitting our images to the man on the other end.

The man saw me, his eyes going wide first then narrowing as his face darkened. "Who--? Replaced me rather fast, didn't you? Gotcherself a little bitch to ride."

Trowa lunged at the screen. "Shut up, you motherfucking asshole! You dropped that cage on me on purpose, and you and I know it!"

All his pent up angry passion came through enough to unnerve me completely. I could just stand frozen in place and watch everything play out.

"You were leaving me--!"

Trowa cut him off. "And you left me with the lions tearing into my leg. Don't tell me you didn't hear my screams!"

The man was sobbing. "At night... I can't sleep."

"Good! Can't help you with the guilt. Deal with it and don't call again." Trowa bit off each of those words with a vehemence I'd never heard pass his lips before.

Trowa moved to switch off the phone. The last thing I saw was the man's head swiveling around to catch sight of me one last time, then the monitor blinked out.

Oh, wow. My head was spinning. Had that been real?

Trowa had had a male lover, who'd left him to be mauled by lions when they'd broken up. Trowa was gay. He was mad. And hot. And collapsing on the bed. And so hot. And hurting.

No wonder he hadn't been taking very good care of himself when I'd arrived. I'd be depressed, too, if I'd gone through all that alone. And the ring! They must have been in a long term relationship before he'd broken in off.

And why hadn't he told me he was gay, at least that, knowing I was? But I could answer that one myself. He didn't want me hitting on him, obviously. It wasn't like he'd invited me here.

All my personal self doubts hit me at that moment. Now I knew his secrets and I would be unwelcome. I was a loser. Not at all what he needed now.

Man, and here I was harboring all these lurid cravings for him, and he was trying to get over-all that. I wanted to run and hide like nobody's business, but there I was closed up in his bedroom with only a few feet separating us. I pictured the poor little beast caught between the hyena and the lion, and that was me, except I knew Trowa was as miserable as I was, because at that moment he chose to open his eyes and one bloodshot one was staring at me.

My never-failing gift for the gab stepped up. "You're gay."

As earth-shattering as this was to me, in light of the other revelations, this was the least important to him, so possibly this was the best place to begin. The single, green eye blinked.

"God made me say it," I blurted out. That's my excuse.

And then his arms opened wide, beckoning me, maybe. "C'mere."

That I understood.

I fell into his arms and held him close. We rocked back and forth. Poor guy. Poor me. It felt so good to feel his warmth and not have to explain anything for awhile.

"He was a mistake. Older, experienced, available. I needed somebody, and he knew how to manipulate a dumb kid like me."

"You're not--!"

He pressed a finger to my lips. "I was then. It's long over. I cut him off when I caught him fucking some clown. Uh, an actual one."

"And he really tried to feed you to the lions? That's pretty extreme."

"He probably didn't plan it." He pulled away from me a bit, his eyes focusing on some distant object.

"We were repositioning a cage on its wheeled base, adjusting it. I don't know how--" He swallowed and closed his eyes.

The telling was painful, I could tell, and I wanted him to know he didn't have to tell me about it, but he patted my arm and squeezed, so I held my tongue and let him take his time. "-- but it slid off my way. The animals could have moved and shifted the balance," he said quickly, then paused again, gathering his thoughts. "It might not have been intentional, but he panicked and left me there. The result was the same."

He examined my face. "I've had plenty of time to get over him and see what a good... um... and equal, respect-based friendship really could be."

I caught the hesitation. I could feel our relationship shifting moment by moment. Hope made me bold.

"It can be even more," I proposed.

This was it. I either had a new home or would be looking for one again in the next minute. A minute, which felt like an hour as I waited for Trowa to react.

He smiled and took a deep breath. "I fell for you from start, you know."

Know? You gotta be kidding! My brain recoiled and my mouth shut down. "Huh?"

"When you were only fifteen."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Pick a revelation, any one of them and explain!

"You always had eyes exclusively for Heero. I couldn't compare or compete with him."

Sure you could, you foolish, foolish man. "What a waste of time, for both of us."

"Yeah, and Heero reacted very badly when he found out you were both gay and hot for him."

"No shit! Imagine how Heero must have felt knowing how many times he'd innocently shared a bed with me during the war only to find out how attracted I was to him."

"Plus, he was an insecure asshole at the time."

"I don't know about the insecure part." I regarded Trowa for a moment, with a new appreciation for his taste.

"He was. I would have traded placed with him any time."

We both blushed at that, one feeding the other's embarrassment. After holding in those thoughts and feelings for so long, we were having trouble letting them out.

"I thought you and Quatre had a, ah, connection." I had, and it had made me think I'd have a chance with Heero, as it we were all gay or something.

"Nothing special." Trowa looked sad, and I wondered if he had suffered a one-sided crush, too. Maybe he'd tell me about that sometime. "We were worlds apart. Anyway, it shocked everyone when you kissed Heero that way."

"Ugh, don't remind me. I thought Wufei would have an apoplectic fit. Quatre went nearly catatonic. So much for his 'space heart' empathy."

"Yeah, well, I thought that kiss was hotter than hell, but seeing how the others reacted I knew you and I alone were gay. I wanted to tell you and comfort you after Heero lit into you. I pulled him off, but you took off like a banshee."

"Could you blame me?"

"No, besides, I didn't think that you'd have been thrilled with me as a second choice, and I hadn't ego enough to take a rejection."

"Had I known... who knows? Doesn't matter now."

"We got here, though. I can't believe it." His voice was all breathy.

"You can't? What about me? I never suspected something like this could happen when I walked into Art's bar and asked him to recommend a place."

Trowa startled me by leaning in to kiss me lightly on the cheek. "I need to tell you something about that."

"'Kay."

I couldn't do much more than wait. I just lay there transfixed on the bed, my heart pounding double time against the rhythm of the air filters. It had been the lightest of touches, which stirred my guarded passions, lighting my desire. One little kiss and I was on fire. My cheek still tingled where his lips had caressed me.

"Okay, the silence is killing me here. Clue me in on this Art dude."

Guilt spread over his face. Now, that was an interesting reaction.

"Does Art know you and I are ex pilots? Is that why he pushed me in your direction?"

"I told him to be on the lookout for one in particular."

"Me? What made you think I would be coming out here?"

"The network."

"What network? What are you babbling about?"

"Hilde called Heero and he called Quatre who called Wufei. Wufei notified a few agents to make certain you got on the right shuttle."

"The one headed here."

"Yeah. Quatre made certain the Maguanacs' shuttle was ready to go."

"I thought the staff was familiar..." I trailed off, feeling a frown takeover my face. "What about Heero? He couldn't have cared less what happened to me."

"Not true. He felt bad, later; when it all sank in and I told him I was gay, too, so get over it."

"You told him that? That was very gutsy of you."

"I stunned him into thinking instead of just reacting. He was afraid to bungle an apology so he followed everyone's advice and kept away from you. Hilde called him when she could tell you were looking to leave and told him it was time to do something for you."

"So, Heero got a hold of Quatre to make sure I didn't go off the deep end?"

"To see that you ended up here where I could use a friend."

I studied him hard for a second. It didn't take long at all to make him uncomfortable and look away. "You don't strike me as the devious sort, though-- planning for a year or more to hook up with me."

His sigh of relief was a sign that he'd expected me to say something much worse. Poor guy. I was in love with him and he didn't know it.

"It wasn't all my doing; no, you're right. Catherine overheard me in my sleep moaning about stuff. She told me I called your name enough to figure out we must have been close friends. She tried to get you on L2, but by chance contacted Hilde. To be honest, I don't know what those two imagined we had going on."

"Hilde was pretty insensitive about cutting me off after the whole marriage thing fell through for us. I wonder if she thought I was hoping to hook up with you? That could explain some of Hilde's actions, depending on the timing of all this." He was searching my face this time so I let him see that I was more amused than angered or hurt. I raised my eyes and locked onto his, and I smiled. "So, she contacted Heero? Not you?"

He turned onto his stomach and readjusted his leg. I think he was trying to make sense of everything. Lord knows I was!

"After I established myself at the circus and got a boyfriend, I lost contact with the others, and you."

"Everyone was self-absorbed at the time, thinking back."

He blinked. "I suppose that's true. But I wanted to keep my life a secret. I don't think I was proud of who I'd become."

"I'm sorry about that." I was. I'd been proud of my business and all I'd managed to achieve, but I had been lonely as hell. "Being with you has been good for me. The more I think about it, I've been happier here with you than all of the last year on L2, and maybe longer than that."

Again, he smiled his half-smile, as if he was afraid to give too much and lose it all. "That's hard to believe."

"Believe it." I grinned.

I had nothing to lose now.

"So, me getting to here-- that was the network? To bring you and me together?" I frowned when I considered that longer. "What if it hadn't worked out-any of it? I mean, they all knew I had no place to go and you were in deep shit with your injury and would need help. We could have missed, like, you know, ships in the night. Would that have been it for us? Would they have just neglected us forever?"

"I doubt it, but I just don't actually know. Considering Quatre was in on the planning, I can guess they had a backup plan C, D, and E. The 'injustice of it' would have been an affront to Chang, and you know how seriously Yuy took his missions. It wasn't likely that you'd desert me and ... I did know you were on the way."

"Uh, huh." Drop the last shoe, circus-boy, the over-sized, funny one.

He flashed me the most minimal of smiles, warning me that something was coming. "I got a call from Catherine saying you'd left your home and were in some sort of trouble. I called Art and told him to be on the lookout for you, and he called me when you walked into the bar. I got there as fast as I could and just slipped past you and onto that stool in time."

"Hmm, so you are a little self-serving and crafty," I said as my smile turned into a smirk. "I'm glad you're not a doormat. I'm also glad you wanted to see me that much." I embarrassed him with all that, so I turned down the heat a bit, asking, "I wonder if the 'others' suspected we'd get this close?"

"I'm sure they didn't link us romantically."

And I was positive they did. I didn't care. I was linking us very romantically-- with dancing little hearts everywhere.

But what was I thinking? What were we getting into here? We were complete opposites, weren't we? Oh, come on! I was outgoing, garrulous, friendly and approachable. Trowa was introverted, taciturn, and locked-away from the world.

Did any of that matter? If we were polar opposites, then we could attract like magnets. I couldn't wait for my north to meet his south.

"Romantic, huh?" I inched closer. "I got another idea for us, Sweetlips."

"Sweetlips? Please, no." He may have said that, but he was laughing about it and rolled into me.

"Yeah, too bad. I've been suffering here for weeks thinking I was sharing a bed with the sexiest straight guy ever, only to discover now that I was duped."

"Oh, God, no." Trowa looked ashen. "I didn't mean to keep you in the dark. I was hiding my excitement." His Adams' apple bobbed. I hadn't intended to make him so nervous. "I could hardly accept the fact that you'd come to this hellhole satellite. I mean, Duo Maxwell was really here in the middle of nowhere and accepting my invitation to stay. I thought I was fantasizing you most of the time. I had no hopes that you'd ever fall for me."

"Of course you did. There's always hope."

"I had no expectations, trust me."

"Trowa," I stopped him with his name. "I fell so hard I got bruises."

He indulged me with a blush and smile, which turned sly when he added, "I didn't see any bruises."

"So, you were checking me out!" He was so caught!

"Oh," he groaned. When he spoke again, it was in a husky whisper. "You know what you do to me? No, no... You couldn't possibly."

"Sure could, and if you'd given me any hint that you were gay you would have jumpstarted this whole relationship thing." Whatever that was.

"I invited you into my bed. I was certain you'd say no, but when you did? That was amazing."

"For me, too. Damn, you hid your excitement well."

"It wasn't hard with all the meds I was on." He looked at me from under his long bangs. "But it's impossible to hide it now."

I got it! He hadn't been able to get it up before, but he could now. Oh how my thoughts were gravitating from talk to sex! And from the sound of his heavy breathing, I bet it wouldn't take much to get him to pounce.

"So you were hoping to seduce me from the start, but-"

"I didn't say that!"

"Heh, heh...but it's true."

"I never thought I could attract you."

I pitched my voice low and sultry. Now that there was no reason to hold back, I didn't. My guess was that with all that pent up passion, my quiet friend would turn out to be the hottest bed partner ever.

"Well, you have," I said. I moved so close my lips touched his exposed ear. Except for the long bangs, his hair was clipped short, making it all the easier to reach those ear erogenous zones. "So what are you going to do about it, Sweetlips?"

His growl and attack was instantaneous and everything I was begging for. I could bottom. I could top. His choice. Heads, tails-I coiled underneath his truly amazing body and took what he could give like a man. He was kind, demanding, tender, loving. He was deeply appreciative and utterly devoted.

I saw stars and heard crazy circus calliope music. He was an animal in bed. Poor me, heh, heh...

I did the cleanup and tucked us in bed, satiated, happy, intertwined together. But we didn't sleep.

That night we talked and talked. We told each other how beautiful we thought the other one was, how amazing, and how lucky. He didn't believe me, and I said, "I have my work cut out for me," and made love to him again.

We made promises and plans for the future. He used the laptop and cruised our options, now that we had those veteran benefits. Trowa wanted to further his education, while I would be satisfied being a mechanic or therapist maybe. It didn't matter to me. We did agree that we'd return Earthside so I could feel the sun on my face. He didn't want to lose his tan, he joked.

"I'm glad this didn't happen when you and I were fifteen," I concluded.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You know why?"

"Ah, no, not really," he admitted.

"Because, I like the man you've become more than that strange boy you were back then. I think I've improved, too."

He smiled his shy smile. "I love the man you've become."

That was sweet. I told him I loved him too.

"So, happy Valentine's Day," he said.

"Happy... huh?" Was it that day already? I hadn't connected all the ads with a date, but of course! "Oh, yeah."

"Tomorrow, all those candies and flowers will be half-price and I'll get you something."

"Um, how about we buy each other new underwear? I could use that."

"Too practical. It's supposed to be about romance."

"Okay, then make them red or silk."

"Umm, silk..." he said, turning it into a sexy moan.

And then he made love to me pouring everything into it he could, all his passion and love. Yes, I knew love when I felt it. I'd been waiting for it a long time.

On to the sequel: "On the Wings of an Eagle"

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