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"Paper Balls"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 Pairings: 1x4 Summary: A sentimental card from Quatre draws Heero out of his shell to risk their friendship for a chance at more. A/N: Thank you WaterLily and Snowdragon for the
generous edits and comments, and Dyna and Wolfje for your lovely support. "Paper Balls" Heero Yuy completed his report from the day before, dotting the "i's" and crossing the last of the "t's", when the mail courier dropped two envelopes at his desk. One was brown and contained photos from the crime lab and, hopefully, a line-item chemical analysis of the pills the addict had had on him. The other was pink. He opened the pink one with no return address. Inside was a card imprinted with a faux-wood pattern. In the center was a cut out circle and an eye staring out at him from the page behind. Not a real eye. He opened the card to find a picture of a cartoony yellow and black striped bee grinning out at him and the words: "Wood you Bee mine?" He smiled and touched the glitter embellishing the letters as he read the signature, "Quatre Raberba Winner." He imagined Quatre choosing this card for him, signing it, and mailing it from his office. He was touched. "Would I be his?" he reinterpreted. He hadn't considered belonging to Quatre R. Winner or anyone else, but he liked the sound of it now. "I belong to you. I am yours. You and I belong together." He was smart, handsome in a winsome sort of way, kind and thoughtful. Heero knew he was loyal, passionate, and from a large, closely-knit family, from their shared war years. If those qualities were applied to his relationship skills, he would make an excellent boyfriend. He'd watched Quatre fall in love for the first time with the quiet, troubled pilot of Heavyarms. And he'd watched his heart get broken when Trowa Barton left the circus and him to join another pilot, another uncultured war orphan, Duo Maxwell. The memory of that event left a bad taste in Heero's mouth now. That was only a year and a half ago. Quatre had been sad, but he hadn't wasted away from the loss. Warmth radiated from deep inside his chest the longer he looked at the card and thought about his friend. A true friend. He and Chang Wufei had occasionally met Quatre socially. They'd been comfortable together, but he never felt Quatre sought his attention exclusively, not particularly, not romantically. And why should he have? Surely the young businessman had had an endless stream of suitable men to choose from for sex, while friends were in short supply. "Then why this card?" he asked himself. Quatre wasn't a frivolous man, so he must take the gesture seriously. The only decoration on his desk was a framed picture of Relena Peacecraft put there by Miss Relena herself when she first visited him. He'd never thought to move it, until now. Heero took the back off and slid Quatre's card over the photograph, centered it, and then replaced the backing. "That's better." Pondering the card on his desk filled his next few minutes. It was a Valentine's Day card, he knew that. He hadn't sent cards to anyone, especially not Quatre Winner. Now he felt at fault for the oversight. He didn't want to hurt his feelings. Not Quatre's. It was too late to mail a card. Yes, he could mail one electronically-that wouldn't surprise anyone, coming from him- but what Quatre had done had been deliberate and premeditated. Anything he could think of would appear last minute and obligatory. He didn't want to react in some programmed manner. He wanted, really wanted, to impress Quatre Winner. But he had no idea how he could do that. What to do next was unclear, so he searched the internet for ideas. There were millions of suggestions, many similar, some vile, some silly. He made copious notes, followed by numerous calls, meticulously gathering more exacting information before drafting a plan to complete his mission. He checked his supply lists and used the Internet to pin point the exact shops to make his purchases without diverting from the line beginning at the Preventers Agency and leading to the Winner corporation building, his target. When he felt at last that he very nearly prepared, he placed his last call. His vid phone connection took a few minutes. Preventer's security system scanned both incoming and outgoing calls, applying scrambling when indicated, background checks, and recording possibilities. When the connection was complete, he had only to wait a few seconds for Quatre to take his call. (o) Quatre skimmed his in-basket at the same time he scanned his Valentine's Day cards, piles of them, which his office assistant had just delivered. He'd sent out a few this year to his closest friends rather than to everyone he knew. That seemed a childish gesture now, to strew words of love like dandelion seeds on the wind, to fall where they may. He wanted to narrow his focus and scope down his playing field. Eric the gallery owner, Lamar the banker, Frans the diamond trader, and Heero. Heero his handsome, steadfast friend and stalwart, valiant Preventer agent, who never dated or looked at anyone with adoration, received a card from Quatre. "Delete, delete, no, no-" He swept the cards off his desk, hardly glancing at them, and into the trashcan, already halfway filled with other red, pink and white cards. "I ought to work on the expansion plans for the mining satellite." He buzzed his assistant. "What have I to do this afternoon?" "A meeting with Liquid Horizontal, with Mr. Peers, Sir." "That is a sale call. Find someone in the sales department to take that for me, please." "Very good, Sir. Is that all?" "That's all for now." His vid phone flickered off then on again. ** URGENT ** scrolled across the blank screen. "What?" Only a handful of people knew could bypass security with that notification, all trusted contacts from the past who had manned Gundams. Rarely had one of his Gundam pilot friends contacted him in this manner; it was usually accompanied by bad news. But he'd felt no warning from his "space heart" that disaster was at hand, so he tamed his beating heart and accepted the call, waited to clear Preventers' security. Heero Yuy's calm-looking face appeared on the screen. "Hello." "Heero? Are you all right?" He looked all right. "Yes, I am." He even smiled. "I received your card." "You did? Well, that's great." He watched Heero's hand turn the picture frame to face the vid screen. He'd framed it. "Wow! I'm flattered, Heero." He fretted for a moment and even looked at his trash can, wondering if he'd tossed one from Heero. He would have kept it had he seen it, but he got so many and hadn't even opened this last batch. "I thought I'd bring mine over." He hadn't discarded Heero's card! He felt so relieved he missed what Heero said next. "Now?" "Lunch isn't for another hour, by my watch," Heero said, glower deepening. "But I brought my lunch today! I have work!" "I brought mine, too. We can still eat together. Your office has a chair to spare me?" Quatre hadn't done that before, eaten sack lunches together. He'd counted on that time to catch up on financial reports. But this was Heero, a friend. There must be something on his mind. "I suppose so." "You might even free up your afternoon?" Luckily, Quatre had already just done that, but he had work to do! Still, Heero had used the emergency code. He probably couldn't speak freely at his workplace. "Possibly. This is all a little last minute." "A case closed sooner than I thought," Heero said, as if that explained everything. Well, it was clear to Quatre that if he wanted to be there for his friend, he'd have to play along. "All right, well. I'd better try to get as much done as possible in the next hour," Quatre told him. "Yes. See you then." And the call was over and out. "How strange." Quatre gazed out his window, admired the bird's eye view of the city, and frowned at the ominous dark clouds to the east. He wondered what kind of trouble his friend could have gotten into to require all the secrecy. "It must be personal," Quatre decided. He would have said if it was Preventers business. He checked the time, shocked himself at how fast the day was whirling by, grabbed at an inch of papers, slapped them on the desk under his nose, and declared, "I have to get this pile done, at least." Quatre didn't accomplish a single thing. All he'd thought about revolved around Heero and his possible problem, which he knew wasn't going to get him anyplace. That was the certainty of orbiting; you always returned to your starting point. (o) Heero looked up from the blank vidphone, wiping the wistful smile off his face. "Come in. Chang?" "God what a day. You'd think the man would know me by now." Heero understood this was all about Zechs Merquise. He was prince and treated his boyfriend like one, too, which meant Wufei had nothing to complain about, really, so Wufei would trump up something to get sympathy or attention or something Heero didn't understand. "What atrocious thing did he do this time?" Heero asked, fighting back a smile. "Why would I prefer an ancient train ride and a cold winter day in Budapest over drinks in the sunny tropics, he asks?" "The train sounds interesting to me." "Well, you're odd that way. Anyway, I put in my specific request, which he ignored, and then when I didn't get all excited about his plans, well- he's feeling put out now and I'm feeling-" "Like the ungrateful ass you are?" Heero suggested. "Chang, just go on the train. I'm sure it's nothing short of luxurious, considering Zechs' tastes. Make up with him. Enjoy Valentine's Day with your boyfriend." "Impossible. Hmmm... I've never questioned your art choices before, but isn't this childish?" Wufei held up the recently framed card with the central eye staring out of it. "What happened to Relena's picture? Oh, this is it," he mused when he discovered it behind the card. "I like the card. Put it down." "Wood you bee mine? Quatre Winner? I don't think I got one from him this year..." his voice trailed off and then the other agent looked back at Heero, scrutinizing him with this new information. "And you framed it." "I like the card," Heero explained again, growing more irritable. "You like the man! Be honest! Did you send him a love note, too?" "Stop grinning. You look stupid. And, no, I didn't. I was about to remedy that and will as soon as you leave." "A card won't make him bat an eye, you know. A wider gesture, something meaningful-" Wufei glared eloquently down his nose at him. "-you want meaningful, don't you?" But Heero could glare back with the best of them, and did so now. "You're testing me." "Of course I am. You haven't shown interest in anyone as long as I've known you, and that's all your short adult life and the better part of your growing years. And now Winner. Why? Oh, I can see why one would be interested in him. He's hot, rich, and amiable. But what I'm curious about is why you are?" Heero snorted and looked past his friend at the door. "You are doing a lot of talking today." "And you are not." Heero folded his arms and stared down his friend. Wufei's smile stretched. "I'm happy for you." "Don't be. I haven't done anything yet." Nothing Quatre was aware of anyway. "What if you took our train reservation?" "Take Quatre on an overnight trip? He'd never agree to that. It's so sudden- I couldn't-! What would he think-?" "Hopefully he'd think about sex. You've been friends for long enough. Time to test the waters... see how deep this...thing goes. He'd enjoy the train. He really would." Ignoring the implication of a nocturnal, sexual encounter, what Wufei had suggested sounded sensible, incredibly, so Heero nodded. "Yes. He'd like the train, wouldn't he?" "Adore it. He likes antiquities and opulence, or at least he can appreciate the finer things in life. He can point out everything you'd miss otherwise." Heero wanted to object, but Wufei was smiling minutely, meaning he was mocking him, so he ignored the jibe. "Okay, I'll do it. I'll buy them off Merquise, though. I won't be in his debt-Fuck! Those are expensive!" Wufei laughed as he withdrew his cell phone and the image of the tickets Zechs had sent him. "I'll have to pay in installments." "He won't mind. He'll be thrilled to have someone enjoy them and it will go a long way to my making up to him. I'll get to go where I want. We all come out ahead, assuming Quatre goes along with all your plans, which I imagine he will." "I'm not so sure. Is there any reason why you think he might? Something he's told you?" "If you're asking if Quatre has confided in me concerning his secret attraction to you, then the answer is no. He's never said a thing. However, he didn't send me a Valentine card this year." "You have a boyfriend." "And soon you will, too." Wufei touched Heero's shoulder and the man shook his head. "We'll see." "First things first, then. You haven't a lot of time to get him on board, so to speak." Heero, Wufei, and Zechs shared a few minutes of negotiation; the reservations were transferred, followed by Wufei's well-wishes and departure, leaving Heero to contemplate his keyboard with an entirely new set of prospects on his horizon. "Time to act." He fired off a request-no, demand-for a vacation day off-no, two days- to his commanding officer, and shut down his office. "I dare you to fire me," he thought, sending a fierce look at his commander's office door. Nothing happened. No explosions, hair-pulling, or sounds of broken furniture, so Heero Yuy marched down the stairs to the exit. "I'll take that," he muttered. On his way out the door of Preventers he nabbed an empty cardboard box that had once held paper supplies out of the arms of a worker lugging several others to the back door. "Recycling project." His tossed in his lunch sack, which contained leftover take out from the night before, and charged ahead, mission mode. His first stop was a boutique shop selling chotskies. The place was mostly black and white and French and crystal knick-knacks. Today it was swathed with quilted "LOVE" buntings, draped in glittery heart banners, and scented with billowing roses in vases- no, that wasn't quite right-scented by thick waxy candles rising like Lilliputian pillars and flickering all around the store. He discovered he was holding his breath, his head swimming in the sparkling menagerie, littered with "hints" for Valentine gifts. A slender, blondsaleslady lit on him in a second. "Would you like to store that box behind our counter?" she asked. "Okay." Heero could see the bulky thing made her nervous. She returned moments later. "Need something for that special lady in your life?" No, but he didn't want to explain, so he said, "Yes. I called about the strawberry milk sets." She glowed. "Yes, I remember! I'm Diane and I took the call. Here's what you asked for. The package includes two mugs, heart-shaped marshmallows... you can choose from Hot Chocolate or Hot Strawberry milk." "I'll take one strawberry." "See how the spoons have been dipped in white chocolate. I just love the pink sprinkles on the edges! Such a nice touch!" "Fine. One." "Very good. If you are giving it away, be sure to include the card with instructions on the back and sign it," she told him as she ran his credit card. Heero looked at the card. He flipped it over and read the back: 1. Pour into a cup of warm milk 2. Stir with spoon 3. Remember someone loves you! He hoped that wasn't getting ahead of himself and that Quatre would just accept the gift in the right spirit. "Thank you," he said and loaded his box with the first gift. He crossed the street and jogged down two blocks to his next stopover at the corner drugstore. He knew where to find his jar of peanuts, so he was done in no time. Quatre had a good sense of humor. He'd get all this, wouldn't he? Heero hoped to God he would understand what he was saying and not be too surprised; in fact, he hoped he'd be pleased. A brief trip to the post office and he could polish off the packaging. "Damn, a line!" Heero grumbled. He should have done this first. Now he was part of the lunch crowd crush. He wouldn't take but a second of time. Luckily, the lady behind the counter knew her stuff and chewed through the customer line. "Next!" she called out. His turn! "I would like this stamped "Fragile". He held up his paper bag, pointing to the spot about mid point. He noticed her name badge and added, "Meg". "Are you mailing that?" Her tone sounded entirely dubious as her eyes examined the larger box in his arms, and then his face for a hint of insanity. "No, I'm delivering it myself- special. It's a Valentine's Day joke." She wasn't frowning, exactly. He decided that her expression was more of curiosity, so he unfolded the top of the sack and showed her what was inside. She rewarded him with a laugh. "Good one! What you want is this stamp." She loaded up on ink from a pad of red, and then stamped the paper bag "Handle with Care". Am I right?" "Yes, that's better yet. Thank you. What do I owe you?" Her smile widened. "I could think of something, but... no. On the house. Just promise to come back and let me know how she takes it, okay?" "Uh, he. It's for a he." "Even better!" "Okay, then, Meg, I'll be back. Thanks again." That had taken longer than he'd anticipated. To keep to his tight timetable, he'd have to exclude one stop and proceed directly to the last one: The Florist with a Flourish. "Hello! You must be the customer who just called with the unusual request? Well, I have it right here, ready to go. I've included the care instructions, a card-." "Thank you. Here's my card. I'm in a hurry." "I could have this delivered?" "No! Ah, no, thank you. I want to do it myself." (o) Quatre examined the paper on his desk, covered with doodles, question marks, Heero's name, even one Q+H inside a heart shape he didn't remember drawing. That's sweet, he mused. His assistant tapped on his door and cracked it open to say, "Mr. Yuy's here, Mr. Winner." "Oh!" Quatre woke from his dream state and jumped to his feet. There in his hand was the little heart sketch. "Eeek!" He balled up the paper, hiding the revealing picture. "Heero! Hello, hello! Come in!" Heero entered his office with an open-topped cardboard box. "Hello, Quatre." He stuck a hand inside. "This is a special delivery," he announced and handed over a brown paper bag stamped "Handle with Care." "For me?" Quatre chuckled in delight as he crushed and pocketed the doodled-on note paper. "Ha! What a surprise." He greeted his friend with a blinding smile, took the gift, and tore off the wrapping. "A jar of peanuts?" Then he laughed. "Oh, I get it- nuts for me?" "Yes. I'm...nuts for you. A pun. Like the card you sent me." "Really?" Quatre couldn't remember which one he'd sent Heero, but he recalled the image on the vid phone. There was wood grain and an eye staring out, which seemed both scary and grisly in retrospect. He was game to try guessing. Wood bowl... fruit bowl? "Orange you glad you're mine?" Heero shook his head side to side. "Wood," he knocked on the desk top, "you bee- like the insect- mine." "Oh, ho! Yes, that one." Heero seemed to be waiting for him to say something. What, Quatre wasn't sure, so he fell back on politeness, opened the jar of nuts, jiggled out a few, and offered some to Heero, who declined. "There's more in here," Heero said, reaching again into the box. Quatre's eyebrows rose into his bangs. "Nuts?" This time Heero huffed. "No." He withdrew a plant, whose identity was impossible to determine while all wrapped in protective cellophane. "Oh my!" Quatre carried it to his desk and peeled away the wrapping. "How...unusual!" "I hoped you'd think so," Heero said. "It's a Venus flytrap, because flowers seemed ordinary, and you aren't." Quatre felt the heat rise into his hairline. "T-thank you. This is quite the surprise." He emptied his pockets searching for his knife, including that little balled-up paper doodle, and then slit open the envelope. "Care instructions. Good. I'd have no idea what to feed it ... flies?" "Yes," Heero nodded. "It's a carnivorous plant." Quatre thought his smile looked nervous so he smiled back in a way that was meant to reassure his friend. "It needs sun." He carried the plant to the window and centered it on the narrow ledge. "There. Perfect, don't you think? Flowers are-." "For girls. I didn't think...I wasn't sure if you'd be offended, and this was interesting." "Thank you, Heero. You put a lot of thought into today. I'm very flattered." Heero smiled. "There's more." Quatre threw up his arms. "What's got into you?" Then he froze. "Heero, you're not sick or something awful, are you? Are you in serious trouble?" Heero coughed. "Ah, no. Not that I know of." He presented Quatre with his last gift wrapped in black and white striped paper. An aura of vanilla candle hovered about it as he placed it in Quatre's hands. "But you can count on me when things get sticky." To Quatre's shock, Heero winked at him as he urged, "Open it." "O-okay," Quatre murmured. He was relieved to find the contents to be relatively benign. "Hot Strawberry milk." "I remembered you like strawberry." "Yes." Feeling a little uncomfortable, Quatre fiddled with the wrapper more than usual and found the attached card. He read the front side: You melt my heart He swallowed. "How sweet." The back said: 1. Pour into a cup of warm milk 2. Stir with spoon 3. Remember someone loves you! Quatre read that last line again and swallowed harder. Oh, my! "Well, this will make a lovely drink to have with lunch. I'll go microwave some milk." While he rushed to the little kitchenette, really just a tiny refrigerator and microwave, he continued to open the package and look over all the things inside. His heart was thundering in his chest. He couldn't believe Heero meant all these things to be taken seriously, but the only feelings emanating from his friend were warm and nervous. Or maybe the nerves were his own? There were two mugs, which he filled with milk and a package of marshmallows cut into heart shapes and dipped in powdered sugar. His eyes slipped to the side and roved over his friend. There was a lot to admire. A lot under that uniform to get to know. Heero turned his way and their eyes met. God! Did he think of me in that way too? Had he ever? Could he now... really? Was he trying to tell me how he truly felt about me? "There's several parts to the drink," Heero reminded him. "Y-yes, I see." While the milk warmed, he admired the hearts and then found the pair of plastic spoons dipped partway in white chocolate and drizzled with dark chocolate. "Look," he held up a spoon, "The edges of the spoon have been rolled in sprinkles!" Heero smiled. "Silly?" "No, no. Pretty." He stirred in the pink powder, dropped in a few marshmallows and handed one mug with spoon to Heero. "Here's yours." "Thanks." Quatre took a carefully wrapped container of leftovers out of the refrigerator. "My lunch. You said you'd bring yours." "Yes. It's the last thing in the box. Leftovers." "Mine is, too. Want to trade?" Heero opened his mouth, but Quatre stopped him. "Oh, that wasn't fair. You don't know what I've got." Heero had a common paper bag in his hand. "You don't know what mine is either, so it's fair." Heero completed the trade and scooted a chair over to Quatre's desk. "Smells good. Curried chicken salad? What I brought will need warming up." "I'll do that. Oooh, Chinese! Delicious." "It's a good trade, then. Right?" "It is for me. I'd had that salad last night and frankly, it's not my favorite. But," Quatre sighed, "I didn't think I'd find time to get anything else today." "It's Valentine's Day. Many people go out." "Well, not me, obviously. I have too much to do. So much to get done before the weekend or I'll be here then as well!" "Do you like your work?" Heero asked. Do I? Quatre turned to gaze out the window the sky hazy grey with the sun fighting to break through. "Much of the time, I do. There's satisfaction at the end of the day- often. Not always. I get frustrated by delays, waiting for others to make decisions and get back to me, which is silly, I know. I should know how the world works by now." He turn back to face Heero and smiled. "How about you? Do you still like risking your life over at the Preventers agency?" "Sometimes," Heero admitted, and with a rake of his fingers through his hair he seemed to sort out his feelings on the subject. "I like finding closure on a case after a lengthy, thorough investigation. That feels satisfying." "Yes, I can believe that would. Then there is the rest of the time." Heero chuckled. "The major portion of the time, you mean. Yeah, there's routine that bores me to death, and failures." "I have those, too." "Not many, I wouldn't think." "More than I like." "At work?" "And," Quatre took a deep, shuddering breath first before saying in a near-whisper, "in my personal life. It that what this is about? This visit?" "I came to see you, so I'd say it's about us. Unless you'd rather be with... um... It's been a long time since-." "Trowa? Oh, I wasn't thinking of him. That's been over and done with for a long time." His voice held a note of finality as well. "I told you that I paid them both a visit before the holidays." "You mentioned that the last time you and I and Wufei got together. You didn't say much about the visit." "You and Wufei didn't seem to want to hear about it." "I was afraid... afraid you'd opened some new wounds." Heero's eyes riveted on Quatre's, examining them for a reaction, he supposed. And Quatre remained as composed as possible to reassure him just how unaffected he had been and still was. "Or worse." "Worse?" "That you'd rekindled your, ah,-." Heero faltered, unable to express himself properly, to say the words "love affair" when applied to Quatre Winner and Trowa Barton. Quatre was charmed by Heero's embarrassment. Mr. Tough Guy rarely looked so awkward. The blonde leaned over his desk, closer to the other man. "I'm not in love with Trowa Barton." Quatre even chuckled at the thought. "And there's no chance of any fire being rekindled in that romance. He and Duo are remarkably happy together running their salvage operation and shuttling about through the colonies. I think of them both as my friends, colleagues, and trusted contacts that would help me should I ever call on their support. You should, too." Heero shook his head and studied his hands on the desktop. "I do. I just don't like what they did." "They were in love, Heero. After Trowa broke it off with me, they had the right to go away and make their own life together. A chance at happiness! They took it." "They hurt you." Quatre nearly told him that they had not, but that would have been a lie. "A little. At the time. But they didn't mean to and it was my fault. I should have recognized and faced up to the plain fact that Trowa and I weren't meant to be." "That's hard." "When you're at the height of an infatuation, you bet it is hard. Love, especially young love, a first love, was more of a temporary madness that consumed me and drove me to do some very stupid and silly things. I did plenty, said plenty more, and refused to listen to what Trowa was telling me. If I got hurt when he and Duo suddenly took up with one another, then it was my own fault." Heero shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. "When do you think 'silly' becomes 'over the top'?" "Sillier than a few funny gifts from the heart," Quatre said in a soft tone and touched the jar of peanuts with a delicate fingertip. "I was foolish enough to think I could give up everything I'd known, my family, my inheritance, and run off to join the circus-for him. Lucky for us both, he wouldn't hear of it. He knew better." "He didn't want you as much," Heero suggested, "and he was an honorable guy." "That, too. I was so lucky. You have to know when that rush of passion turns into something lasting and deeper or just fizzles out, and not to fight the inevitability of it, but grow from it." "You learned that?" "I think so, but that brilliant revelation didn't happen for several months after he left me." Quatre laughed lightly. "You always had the advantage with your 'space heart' sensitivity." "Oh, that's just not fair, or true! I rarely experienced how the rest of you were feeling. I just paid attention and talked to everyone." "Okay." Heero's expression looked more "if you say so" than apologetic. "I noticed all of you, but I didn't gain much information from that. I mean, Duo, I couldn't miss him. He appeared at the most inconvenient times." "And it didn't occur to you that he was trying to get you to notice him and like him?" "No. Relena, hounded me, too. I noticed that. With Duo I thought whoever was assigning him missions might have been in league with Doctor J." "And me?" Quatre asked, allowing a twinkle in his eye to show that he usually reserved for flirting. "You? Yeah, you didn't belong in a killing machine, and when you were, you were pretty frightening." Heero smiled and Quatre smiled back. "Let's not go there, please." Using the Zero system he did, in fact, destroy a colony. It nearly cost him his mind and very nearly killed Trowa. "And Trowa?" "I hardly noticed Trowa, except when he was manning Heavyarms, then he was awesome," Heero said. "Trowa excited me the moment we met. He was so sure of himself and self-sufficient and yet he had a sensitive side that came out when he played music. I thought he was the most wonderful boy I'd ever met." He stretched out his hand and rubbed over one of Heero's scars. "And Duo was the flamboyant, extreme version if Trowa, susceptible to... well... you. His heart was in jeopardy the moment he saw you." "No chance of that. He shot me, remember." "He idolized you, Heero. He was always exclaiming how amazing you were, feat after feat." "I didn't ask to be his idol. I was busy with completing assignments." "Mission accomplished," Quatre said, mimicking Heero's monotone delivery, and then smiled wistfully. "I know." Quatre looked out the window again, visualizing the past. "We spent time together, Duo and I. Not as lovers, but as friends, like brothers, and told each other secrets. We discovered we both liked boys, finding them more interesting than girls." Both men shared a smile at that. "He loved you, Heero, as only a fifteen-year-old boy in love for the first time could." "And I ignored him. I didn't think of him that way at all." "I know and he actually understood, but that didn't change the way he felt. Trowa loved you, too, you know." Heero's head shot up. "No." "Oh, yes. He nursed you back to health there at his circus. He gave you all he could." "And I barely thanked him. I was such a cold ass." "You were only a boy. And one driven by demons to follow orders. And you made mistakes because you were human and the orders were often wrong. Everyone looked up to you and loved you as they could-" Even you, Heero wondered, but kept it to himself? "- even Wufei, though he would have a difficult time admitting that, I'd think." Heero's eyes met his. "I think less so now that Zechs has entered his life. But that's another subject all together." Quatre wanted to hear more, but Heero gestured "not to go there," and said, "You forgive me for a heartless past too easily, Quatre." "No, I don't. You are too hard on yourself. The war was terrible, but we made friends- good ones-in spite of it." Heero stood and walked around the desk to Quatre and enfolded him in his arms. "I'm glad I have you." For a moment, he thought Heero might try to kiss him, but the embrace remained platonic. Quatre just nodded and returned the hug. "You'll always have my friendship." When they pulled apart, Heero looked uncertain again. "Thank you. Friendship is a good foundation, I understand. I, ah, am hoping for us to become something... more." "More?" Quatre tried for innocence, but could only pull off teasing. "You think there's a spark between us?" His eyes sparkled. "Yes." "Then it's not just the curry." "No." "Mutual attraction?" "You're getting warmer. You sent me the card, which proves premeditation." "Ha! You aren't kidding!" Quatre laughed. "This is getting hot." Heero reached for his waist and whispered, "Come away with me." "Heero!" He was surprised and pleased at the same time. His head reeled from a delicious confusion of feelings. He had never expected his feelings for Heero to be returned and now felt terribly off-balanced as the situation spun out of his control. "I'm serious. Oh, I'm not expecting you to take off for weeks or anything. Just one night. And most of the day after. No, all of it. And maybe the next few after that." He placed a finger over Quatre's lips, stopping him from arguing. "Don't you want to find out what might develop?" "Yes, but," Quatre shrugged apologetically, "I have appointments-." "Change them." Heero released his grasp and tapped the desktop. "That's what you have a secretary for." "Office manager. That's her title. Not secretary." Quatre looked down at the fingers, so close... so close to that wadded up ball of little Q+H doodling! When had he put that there, he wondered? He could feel Heero's eyes on him. He still had a deadly stare. Heero's voice dropped. "If we don't try, we'll never know." Quatre moved to retrieve the paper ball, but knocked it further away. Heero lunged for the balled up paper and caught it as it rolled off the edge. "Hey! Leave that! It's mine! It's not for you-!" Heero juggled it up and out of Quatre's reach, then opened it, smoothing the paper between his fingers. "Hee-ro! Just throw that out. Now!" Heero grinned, looking as young as he was, and waved the paper like a flag, displaying the hand drawing of the heart enclosing their names. "You were thinking about us. You and me." "Yes. Yes, yes, yes! Satisfied now?" "No. Not even slightly. This just makes me want to investigate more." "Ummm, Mr. Agent man... that's kind of sexy," Quatre said, pitching his voice low and husky. Heero's eyes darkened and he licked his lips. "I want to know if we can be more, and I think a little time together might help. Don't you?" "Well... yes... It's a good idea, conceptually, but... What will we do? Where will we go-?" Heero shook his head. "Taken care of." He moved to the door. "Just cancel and meet me outside your office in five minutes." He did follow directions and met his friend in the foyer. "I should go home and get a few things first." Heero shook his head. "We're traveling light." "I wasn't thinking of a truck of clothes, more along the lines of a toothbrush and change of shorts." Heero kept up a rapid pace and shook his head with a faint smile. Quatre tugged at his tie. "Could I possibly change into more comfortable clothes?" "No time." "Why not?" "Even if we hurry we'll still be pushing it." "Pushing what?" "The train." "We'll be pushing a train?" Heero barked a laugh. "I meant it! What kind of train are you talking about?" "You'll see," Heero said, picking up the pace. "You had this planned all along? You were rather sure of yourself-that I'd go along with all this." "If you wouldn't give me a chance today, I figured that there was never really anything there. I had realistically nothing to lose." "Well," Quatre began his logical argument, "I might have wanted to go along, but had commitments, or I might have preferred to take things a bit more slowly-" Heero pulled out his computer-phone and checked the time. "Too late for all that. We'll have to run now." "What about a taxi?" "Do you see one handy? I don't. Let's go!" Quatre removed his tie as they ran, removed his suit jacket, and awkwardly rolled up his shirt sleeves. He wasn't wearing running shoes, and as fine as the shoes were, they pinched and rubbed in all the wrong places. "I can't keep this up! How much further?" Heero cut through an alley. "Almost there. Want me to carry you?" "NO!" It was bad enough that Quatre's creative imagination had taken 'riding a train' to 'riding Heero'. And now, just thinking of being in Heero's strong arms sent his heart to racing-again. (o) They stormed the train station. The train awaited them, engine churning. "Run ahead and make sure the train doesn't leave without us!" Heero shouted. "Okay!" Quatre turned to the station exit to the train platform. Heero entered the confirmation number into the machine and out popped a pair of tickets. Then he dashed out the doors and looked for the shaggy blond head of his friend. He located him at the stairs leading up into one car. "It's all right!" Quatre waved at him. "They're holding it for us. Isn't that nice?" Very. The conductor waved them in, hardly giving the tickets a glance. "The Royal suite is the last car, upstairs, if you'd like assistance with your...bags?" "No bags, thanks. We'll find our way." Heero assured the man and followed Quatre, shoes clamoring up the narrow, metal stairs that led to the upper levels with the sleeping cars. Heero could hardly believe how well his plan had worked. Here he was climbing aboard a luxury train with its authentic restored vintage cars, made famous in a murder mystery novel, to run on the legendary route from the Sanc kingdom center to Budapest, Hungary - with Quatre Raberba Winner. "Oh, my! Heero! This is amazing! I've heard about this train. It's reported to have stellar dining and service." His voice was filled with delight. "Look at the wood floors gleam and the bronze fixtures glow!" Heero imagined fleets of workers weary from hand buffing. "Everywhere you look there's real Sanc red oak varnished woods-" Yup, no wonder those trees are endangered. "-polished brass and, just look at the fine fabrics used for these drapes!" Then Quatre laughed. "And you couldn't give a rat's ass!" Heero smiled. "You picked up that phrase from Duo." "Yes, and I'm right, aren't I? This could be all be made out of pine boxes and rice sacks for all you care." "Pretty much. I do appreciate how it looks, but I don't much care." Quatre took his hand in his. "I live simply, too. Just the one bedroom apartment with nothing worth more than a month's paycheck." Which is still a lot, Heero thought. Quatre tugged him through the narrow walkway. "Let's find our cabin before some nosy person offers to find it for us." "I wouldn't mind the help-" "Oh, this is so much more fun." "Yes." Heero certainly couldn't deny the fun he was having with Quatre's warm hand in his. "The train is 23 cars long," Heero read aloud from a flyer he'd snagged from a table. "I believe it. Why couldn't our cabin have been in the first one?" "- taking a maximum of 84 passengers, with a staff of 56. No wonder why they charge us an arm and a leg for the tickets in order be profitable," Heero groused. "You're doing wonderfully with your artificial limbs," Quatre said, mirth dancing in his eyes. "Both an arm and a leg." Heero shook his head, smiling. Still hand-in-hand, they passed open-platform observation areas and several small salons. "Like a city on wheels," Heero commented. "A very small one. Or a resort," Quatre submitted. Heero hadn't had the privilege of residing at a resort, but if Quatre said so then this could easily be one. He'd know. It was sinking in just how far a cry Quatre's current lifestyle was from his own. Did that matter to him? No, why should it? Quatre was a billionaire and he just got by on a Preventers salary. He couldn't think of why that should bother him; it never had before. Interesting. Quatre had always been just another of his friends, well not JUST anymore, but his having a great fortune had never registered on Heero's radar as something important. It truly meant nothing to him, both the wealth and what it could buy. He only wanted the regard of the one man, Quatre Winner. He just took it for granted that Quatre felt the same way about him and his social status, and never considered it a problem again. "This car has got to have our cabin-it's the last one!" he heard Quatre say. Then came an excited, "Oh!" Over the door a brass plaque read: Sanc Royal Family. There is one Royal Suite which comprised the last train car-the largest suite available on any train in the world. A uniformed member of the service personnel appeared out of a doorway. "Gentlemen." He seemed to know who to expect and could identify them, as could half the people of earth, and unlocked the cabin door. "This way." They passed a few bunk and table combinations, "for the palace guards, when necessary," and then another door slid to the side to reveal a wide compartment. "This is huge!" Quatre breezed past the doorway and danced around. "Heero! Look at this!" He should have expected Zechs would have state-of-the-art facilities and amenities. Large windows, LCD television- "Wi-fi access," Heero noted, wishing he'd thought to bring his laptop, but secure in the knowledge that he could get by with just his pocket one. Ringing the large compartment were stacked, narrow beds, built in tables, bench seating. "We have a private, en-suite shower, toilet and sink! On a train!" They had made it on time and Quatre sounded delighted with the accommodations. Heero felt relieved. "Is there anything else we can get you for your comfort tonight?" the man asked. Tonight. Oh God. Heero really had made a change to his life this day and the realization dashed him with the feeling of an ice water bath, followed by one of boiling water. He shivered, leaving his friend to do the talking. When he dared a glance in Quatre's direction, he found the blond staring at him with a look of amused annoyance. "Yes," Quatre piped up. "We left in a rush. We need toiletries-" "If you check the cupboard here, you'll find many supplies already in place." Heero scanned quickly: shaving tools, toothbrushes, soaps, even pajamas. He frowned, wondering if Quatre would want to wear them, and frowned deeper, wondering if he should? "Is there anything else you need?" the train employee asked. No, there wasn't. "I don't think so," Quatre replied. "If you require anything, please, let me know." Go away now, Heero willed him to leave them alone. "Your dinner reservations are at eight-" Hold on! Whether his friend was hungry or not, Heero was ready to eat right then. "Is there any way we can eat sooner?" The man smiled, "Of course. Would dinner in half an hour be more suitable?" "Perfect," Quatre said, and the man left the couple alone. Quatre turned on Heero immediately. "Oh, Heero, the royal suite? How did you manage? You must have gotten reservations months ago. Were you planning this that far back?" "No, to be honest, I wish I could say I had, but it was just lucky chance." He explained how he was taking Zechs' reservation. "Which explains why we have his accommodations," Quatre said. "And Chang gets to go to the tropical isle of his choice, I guess." "I prefer the cold, frankly," Quatre said. "Fair skin plus too much sun plus avoidance of sunscreen results in burn." Heero was thinking more along the lines of bare skin and warm blankets equals hot sex. "Yes." "The good news is that there are a couple of Wufei-sized white shirts we can wear and clean underwear." Quatre hung his jacket and tie in the small closet. "I'm taking a shower, okay?" "Good idea. I'll do the same-" Heero added. "-Alone." "-after you," Heero agreed. Don't push. He sank into a window seat and watched the countryside fly by. This was a good idea, he convinced himself. Quatre emerged fresh and damp. "Your turn. I feel sooo much better now. Oh, I'm so sorry I used up most the time!" Heero touched a wet tendril. "I only need five minutes. I don't need to shave. I'm sorry you had to rush at all." "It couldn't be helped, could it?" Quatre asked. "With warning I might have come up with reasons not to do this." His smile looked a little too scheming for Heero's liking. "Our seating is in ten minutes," Quatre reminded him, teeth whiter than the shirt, skin glowing with health. "I'll be quick." As Heero brushed past him to the shower, he could have sworn Quatre commented under his breath, "Not too quick, I hope." It wasn't until he was under the warm stream of water that his mind processed the words, the sexual connotation surfaced, and a new meaning sunk in. He wondered if Quatre seriously meant what he hoped he meant- and it wasn't about the length of his shower time. After taking turns cleaning up, they proceeded to the nearest dining car. There were two elegantly decorated dining cars to choose from and two lounge cars providing cocktails and comfortable seating. Quatre went into raptures over the high-quality, five-star dining, and while Heero ate everything set before him, he found the blond man more entertaining and interesting than the meal. They didn't linger over dessert. Heero thought Quatre was just as apprehensive as he about the night ahead of them, and hoped that it wasn't all anxiety, that he was also looking forward to getting...close. They had just returned to their room and taken back their window seats, when the outer door jiggled. They both looked to the door when they heard the knocking. "I'll take care of it," said Heero, standing. "Your champagne, compliments of SancTrac luxury travel. Is there anything else I can get you tonight?" Heero thanked the man and took the bottle. "No. This is fine," he said, dismissing him with wave. Quatre's large blue eyes stared into his. "Is something wrong?" Heero delivered the bottle to a table, where Quatre had already unwrapped a pair of glasses and set them out. He eased the frown off his face. "No. I hadn't expected this as part of the service." "Surprises can be good, Heero. This one is nice, like yours today." "Yes." Heero thought the cute blond looked nice, sitting there, expectant, watching him open the bottle "pop" and pour the bubbly drink. "I like how you've become so agreeable today," Quatre said with a chuckle, then warned him, "Not too fast!" "Too late." The liquid bubbles overflowed the glasses. Heero laughed because Quatre did and that made him warm inside and happy. Heero was feeling no pain after his second glassful of champagne. He hoped he could shed his inhibitions like a snake its skin and make a move on his good friend. What seemed straightforward in the clear light of the afternoon now seemed complicated. He watched his friend's pale throat when he swallowed, the clench of the muscles, his Adam's apple moving in a way that excited him, thinking of those lips, that throat going down on his cock. Heat rose to his face at the thought. "Are you all right, Heero?" I could be- The buzzing of his cell phone saved him from having to answer that one. "It's from Wufei," he explained. "Tell him he's missing a breathtaking... an awesome trip." Awesome trip?More warmth spread through Heero. "More Duoisms. You have been around him too much. Ha! Look here. Zechs took a picture of him and is probably the one sending this." Heero passed the phone to Quatre. Their fingers touched and it was all he could do not to keep the contact going. He wanted his hands on the other man so badly! "Oh, my! I've never seen Wufei so...scantily dressed. Is that a speedo?" It was and he looked hot stretched out full length, arm behind his head, head pillowed on a towel and an umbrella drink, pink-orange, in the background. "Let's send them a picture of us!" Quatre said, and pressed against his side so close that when he inhaled, Heero smelled Quatre and only him. Snap! Heero was surprised at how relaxed he looked in the picture and how luscious those pink lips looked next to his cheek. With his free hand he tipped up the newly-shaven chin and kissed Quatre's lips. Snap! He sent that picture, and then tended to the man in his arms. "Okay?" he asked in a whisper as if he were afraid of the answer. "Yes," came the whispered reply along with fingers running up his chest, releasing buttons from their ensnarement. Kissing Quatre was everything Heero thought it would be, but what it did to his body! He'd never, ever kissed, touched, held (oh, swoon!) another person. His skin burned under that touch as Quatre revealed each new sliver of his skin. He lost track of time while making out with his half-dressed friend. He nibbled on an earlobe and cried out when teeth bit down on his nipple. Kisses and sucking and touches felt so good. Heero carried Quatre, kicking and laughing, to one of the lower bunks. Out the window, the darkness zipped past; there was no need to close the curtains. They rolled about, squirming out of slacks, but leaving on the underwear. More skin on skin contact improved everything. "Heero?" "Hn?" He reeled in the other boy who had pulled back a few inches. "I know you've had a problematical day, what with all the lovely gifts you put together for me, but did you manage to bring any supplies?" Quatre whispered, tickling his ear. "Like what?" The blood in Heero's brain had pooled south, apparently. Sigh. "Lube? Condoms?" "Ah... oh... um... no." Heero sat up, supported by an elbow. He felt shock and anxiety shooting stinging little needles into his chest. "I didn't think you'd... I didn't expect anything like that would... I've never-." Quatre pulled his face close enough that their noses touched. "Good. That's okay. Better than okay, really." "I wanted to be with you, alone," Heero choked out, "But I didn't think we'd go that far-!" "I think I can love you now, Heero Yuy." Quatre smiled. "You are so honest. I know I can trust you and it's obvious we are very compatible." "If I told you how much I loved you, I'd violate Rule 125 parts a. through g. of the Sanc Broadcast Rules." Quatre shook hysterically with laughter. "You are such a romancer!" Well, romance can move from ironic right into moronic like that. They kissed and cuddled and told each other secrets, some silly some special, until both young men were thoroughly tormented. Hands and lips relieved their passions. And then Quatre insisted they use a few towels to clean up. They lay together, Quatre sprawled over Heero, limbs intertwined, and Quatre drawing hearts with his finger on Heero's smooth chest. "This is wonderful." Heero agreed. "You're heavy, though." They re-arranged themselves several times. After elbowing one another, tossing and turning, the two agreed that sleeping together in the narrow confines of the bunk bed was not going to work. "I'm climbing up to the upper bunk for a few hours of sleep," Quatre told him. "It may be cold and lonely, but it is space enough for me to fit." "Understood." After all, they were too good of friends to deny one another a few hours of sleep, right? (o) Quatre awoke from a dream. Still night. He was on a train and could feel the gent sway and hear the deep rumble from the metal wheels rolling over the rails. Heero slept below him. Heero. He'd had sex with Heero and had liked it. He liked Heero. A lot. Was it true love? In his dream, it had been. "I must not forget how that quote went." Located his coat, the inside pocket with a pen, a scrap of paper torn from a larger one in the outer pocket and crumpled. He remembered not having seen a trash receptacle to dispose of it, so he'd kept it. Now, he smoothed the paper flat and wrote out what he recalled. "Something like that, anyway." Satisfied, he balled it up and promptly fell back to sleep. "You awake?" came Heero's voice. The wan grey shaft of incoming light from over his bed didn't look very inviting. Quatre guessed it to be just dawn, at best. "I don't want to be." "Come down here and warm me up, then." "Okay." Quatre shakily climbed down from the upper bunk. "Chilly!" He didn't notice the paper fall. "Is that for me?" Heero pointed out the paper ball on the floor. Would Heero like the sweet love note? Quatre wasn't sure how Heero would take the heavy sentiment this early in the morning. "For some reason," Heero was saying, "I just love the idea of a castaway crumpled paper secretly holding a precious gift, but to pull it off there'd better be a nice piece of candy or a better drawing in there." Quatre chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint you, then. It's not really much. Just a poem that came to mind last night. I'd rather you didn't read it, just yet." Heero handed it back. "Share it when you want to." When Heero opened the covers, Quatre moved quickly, snuggling under the shared blankets, cuddling close against and all over Heero. He felt Heero's arms encircle him and tighten. "This is perfect, being here with you." He sighed. "Yes, I am special." Heero laughed and punched him lightly. "So funny." Another sigh. "So, what are the plans for today? Having swept me away, I'm sure you have some?" "Breakfast first." Heero counted off the fingers of one hand each item as he said them. "And then we have a stopover in Budapest while they reverse the engine for the return trip to Sanc. I thought we could go shopping for a change of clothes, sightsee a little, have lunch, take in a museum-and now I've run out of fingers on this hand and using the other would mean not holding on to you, which isn't going to happen. How does that sound to you?" "It depends. Holding on to me is just fine. Now the part about when this train stops, what kind of weather will greet us in Budapest?" "I will find out." Heero pulled out his pocket-sized phone/computer device from under the pillow. While he checked the stats, he read about their destination. "Hungary lies in the Carpathian Basin which provides both protection and isolation." "Good start." "Thus weather in Budapest and in the whole country tends to be changeable." "Which means, what will greet us out there is-?" "Freezing, with patches of snow," Heero said, frowning, "with more arctic weather to come." He presented Quatre a picture of the landscape outside the train station. The lights reflected off soft, rounded mounds of snow. "Looks like frosting after dabbling my fingers in it," Quatre said. "Only colder. Like ice cream." "Would you mind so much if my enthusiasm dwindled to nothing for this shopping spree you have in mind?" "No, if it means we get to spend all our time right here." Quatre turned to look at him directly and watched him blush. "I-I didn't mean we had to stay in bed the whole day," Heero blurted out. Quatre kissed those lips to silence him a moment, then he whispered, "That sounds like a perfectly good plan to me. Staying here, in bed, all day." Heero laughed and kissed the man in his arms. Quatre felt crazy with happiness. Eventually, they had lunch brought in, having skipped breakfast altogether, and after that they examined their suite completely and discovered that behind the sliding wood doors at the very back, was a gigantic bed with windows which tapered to a cone nose point, looking out over the landscape. The entire upper-level back of the train. Windows. Falling snow. For them. Quatre handed over the paper ball. "You can read this now." And Heero read the poem, which expressed pretty much what they both were feeling: Love has no desire but to fulfill itself. To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving. ~Kahlil Gibran The End.
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