"Breathless"

Written By: Waterliliylf

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. All rights remain with Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. No profit being made here.

Rating: R

Warnings: sap, angst, fluff

Pairings: 3x4, 13x2

Summary: Quatre finds himself introduced to an annoying young man, one he can't seem to get out of his head.

"Breathless"

Chapter 19:

In which Trowa and Quatre discuss the intimacies and intricacies of their new relationship…

'Finished?' Trowa teased, watching Quatre scoop up the last of his ice-cream – actually Trowa's ice cream - and lick the spoon. For someone who looked like he lived on sunlight and moonbeams, the blond had an amazing appetite. For someone who claimed not to have a sweet tooth and never to eat dessert, he'd done a good job of polishing off Trowa's.

'I think so. I really enjoyed that.'

'Me too.' It was the truth; he'd had fun. Quatre was wonderful company; funny, smart, easy on the eyes. He was surprisingly easy to be with, when he relaxed and forgot that he was the self-proclaimed king of the world. After almost three hours of varied conversation, Trowa had realised that they had differing opinions on virtually everything in the universe. He'd also realised that he actually cared about what Quatre thought. And here and there they'd found little, unexpected things in common; stepping stones flung into the gulf between them.

'I love Italian food,' Quatre sighed happily, picking up a breadstick and nibbling on it. 'Have you ever been there?'

'To some of the big cities, yeah. Let's say on business. And Duo and I spent a couple of weeks in Tuscany three years ago.'

'That's one of my absolute favourite places. Where did you go?'

That was another point in his favour, Trowa decided. Most of the guys he'd dated had taken exception to him having Duo – having someone who looked like Duo – in his life. Quatre didn't seem to care.

'We were based in Sienna but we hired a car and drove all around. It was great.' Trowa nodded for one of the waiters to bring the bill, before Quarte started licking the pattern of the plate. 'Put your wallet away. I'm getting this.'

'But I want to..'

'No.'

'But…'

'I said, no!'

'I…'

'Quatre. Shut it. Now.'

He used the voice that was mostly kept for training naughty puppies and it miraculously worked. The blond actually shut up.

'Don't worry. If it's too much, I can always nick something on the way out. Um, that was a joke,' he added, seeing the look of horror on Quatre's face.

'Sorry. Sorry. I'm just not used to being out with, ah, a person who…'

'You are, actually.' Trowa slid a sheaf of notes out of his wallet, adding a generous tip. 'You hang out with Duo. And I'm sure you've dated plenty of crooks. White collar ones, who've used insider information on the stock market, or cut their staff's salaries so they could give themselves a nice fat bonus.'

'My standards are rather higher than that,' Quatre informed him loftily.

'All evidence to the contrary, given who you're currently with,' Trowa grinned at him. 'Do you want to go for a drink somewhere, or head straight home?'

'What I'd really like,' Quatre said, having given it some consideration, 'would be to go for a walk on the beach. It's such a lovely night. Could we do that?'

'Why not?'

OK, that was a fairly unexpected request, but in a nice way. At least he didn't want to go to some trendy cocktail bar or something.

It turned out to be a lovely idea. At midnight, they had the beach all to themselves, with a full moon to glow on the waves, and gleam on Quatre's bright hair. The blond slid an arm around his waist as they walked down to the sea. Trowa wasn't normally into all that touchy-feely stuff, but it felt sort of nice having Quatre tucked against him.

'This is just beautiful,' Quatre breathed. 'I love watching moonlight on water, don't you?'

'Sure. It's right up there with long walks in the rain and snuggling under a blanket in front of an open fire.'

Quatre pulled his arm free, and give him a fairly creditable punch.

'You,' he announced in the manner of one making a major scientific discovery, 'are actually mocking me.'

'Surely not.' He caught the blond's arm, pulling him closer. 'I wouldn't do a thing like that. If you get pissed with me, you won't want to put out.'

'That's romantic. Not.'

'I'll show you what's romantic.' He kept the kiss very gentle at the start; a little dab of tongue, a scrape of his teeth against Quatre's bottom lip, before catching it in a little nip, and properly sinking into that lovely mouth.

'Wow.' Quatre virtually melted into his arms. 'I thought you said you weren't at all romantic.'

'Maybe just a little bit,' Trowa confessed, grinning. Suddenly, the idea of snuggling with Quatre, with or without the trappings of open fires or cuddly cashmere blankets, seemed awfully appealing. 'So…have you ever had sex on a beach?'

'Just the once. And before you ask, no, I didn't like it, and I certainly don't want a repeat performance. I got sand in all sorts of inconvenient places.'

'The sex can't have been that good if that's all you remember about it.'

'It was perfectly good,' his companion said tartly. 'And I ruined a lovely linen shirt; it was impossible to get the seawater stains out.'

'Like I said, it must have been pretty crappy sex if you were worrying about your clothes afterwards. How about if you took them off first and folded them neatly on a rock or something?'

'Trowa! It's too cold. And what if somebody sees us?'

'Then they'll get to have ringside seats.' Trowa kissed him again, one hand sliding his shirt loose. 'How about if I promise to keep you warm?'

'We are not having our first time on a beach. I want it to be special.'

Trowa grinned. 'I know. I was thinking of maybe flying you to Venice, and finding a nice hotel overlooking the Grand Canal that has four-poster beds, and hiring a gypsy violinist to serenade us.'

'Oh, I'd love that!' Quatre said happily. 'Really?'

'No.' Of course, in Quatre's world, people probably did stuff like that. 'I promise, I'll make it special for you, wherever we are.' He traced both thumbs along the flare of Quatre's collarbones.

'I'm sure you will. I just think it's a little soon, don't you? We should get to know each other a little better first.'

'Mmm. I know a great way how we could get to know each other better.'

'Pft. What part of no don't you understand?'

'The part that sounds like a challenge. Come on, you're spending the night with me, right?' Trowa bent his head down a few inches, traced the outline of Quatre's ear with his tongue. 'I was sort of hoping for a bit of action. Considering I did buy you dinner and all.'

Quatre shuddered. God, he was sensitive there. 'I don't sleep with people just because they buy me food.'

'I gave you my dessert, remember? All that lovely mint chocolate ice-cream.' He'd tasted of it when they'd kissed. And there was definitely going to be more kissing in the immediate future, given how Quatre was looking up at him with that little pout. 'Isn't that worth a little something in return?'

Quatre's expression turned positively wicked, and one hand ran down Trowa's thigh to cup between his legs. 'Possibly a big something. All I'm saying is that I'd rather wait to have sex with you. That still leaves plenty of options for when you take me home tonight.'

As it turned out, it did. And his lovely, creative, deliciously adventurous blond was more than willing to explore them with him.

Trowa had never resented his animals in his entire life. He did the next morning, simply because getting up to take care of them meant leaving his bed, and the blond in it, to feed them.

When he got back up to his room, over an hour later, Quatre blinked up at him sleepily. 'Mmph. What time is it?'

'Nearly twelve.'

'No! It can't be that late. I always wake up at six.'

'Sorry.' Trowa picked up his alarm clock. 'See? Five to twelve. What's the big deal? Do you have stuff you need to do?'

'I suppose not.' The blond in his bed snuggled back to his pillow. 'Where did you go?'

'To check on the animals.'

'Come back to bed?'

'Say please.'

'Please, Trowa.' Well, he probably said something like that, but Trowa wasn't really paying that much attention, because Quatre had flung back the blankets and it was more important to look at him than listen to whatever his mouth was saying.

'Oh, you're cold!' Quatre gasped as Trowa stripped quickly and dived under the sheet with him. 'You don't have to be self-conscious, you know. I have seen you naked before.' He kissed Trowa firmly on the mouth. 'You're so lovely.'

Trowa shrugged, shaking his hair down over his face. 'Hardly in pristine condition.' He felt in even more next to Quatre's flawless, gleaming perfection.

'They don't still hurt, do they?'

Oh, God. This one kept surprising the hell out of him. Most guys who saw his back tried saw hard not to look that the effort was almost tangible, or else oozed questions and sympathy. With Quatre, there was just a matter of fact question and a cool, almost clinical appraisal of his body. It was damn refreshing.

'No.' It was true, pretty much. You couldn't feel physical pain after that many years. Not really. Even if you could still wake up drenched with sweat and screaming and convinced your flesh would be torn to bloody ribbons after nightmares that were far, far too real.

'Well then. Roll over.'

'What are you planning to do to me?' Trowa shifted on to his stomach obediently, trying not to tense, because he really wasn't crazy about the vulnerability of that particular position.

'Just a back rub. Shh. I promise, you'll like it.' Two soft, knowing hands ghosted up his thighs, and kisses started to flutter down his spine.

'Quatre. Just how long are you planning to keep this up?'

'Hmm?' Quatre glanced up, a slyly sexy little smile on his lips that just begged to be kissed off. 'Keep what up?'

'Torturing me.'

'I don't know.' He leaned forward, pressed a little promise of a kiss to Trowa's inner thigh. 'How long do you think you can keep up with me?'

'Try me.'

'Yes, Master.' Quatre flung him a little smirk and then that gorgeous, generous mouth was drifting over his skin, heading in a definitely southerly direction. Bliss. Especially when those perfect lips fastened over his cock in the most perfect embrace. Trowa had just enough brain cells left at that point to flip them around so he could reciprocate.

There were little motes of sunlight dancing before his eyes when he eventually came.

'Oh, that was just lovely,' Quatre sighed after, rolling over and burrowing into the pillows.

'You seemed to be enjoying it.' Trowa grinned down at him. He had a million things to do, but it was sort of tempting just to curl up with his lover for a couple of hours and doze.

'Very much,' Quatre assured him. 'Now, what are we going to do today?'

Trowa blinked. Oh, God. Any other guy would be happy to go back to sleep after sex; especially that sort of sex. Quatre Winner wanted to plan his schedule. He'd be reaching for that damn diary of his next.

Instead, he sat up properly, bubbling with ideas. 'We could go into town and have lunch somewhere nice, and then maybe look around the shops, or watch a film, or we could go for a walk along the harbour. Have you ever done one of those cruises? I know they're really for tourists but they look fun. Or we could drive out to the organic market or we could go to that lovely antique arcade in town or we….'

'Quatre, wait a sec. I hate shopping.'

'You can't!' Those blue eyes couldn't have looked more shocked if Trowa had confessed to hating breathing, or sex. 'It's practically my favourite thing.'

Trowa lifted his eyebrows. 'Better than sex?'

'Well, that depends.' Quatre did that little trick of his where he glanced up through his lashes. He probably thought it was appealing as hell; Trowa found it irritating, mostly. Although it was considerably less so when the blond was naked and had just given him a mind-blowing blow job.

'On what?'

'On the sex. Obviously. Do you truly not like shopping? Why?'

'I just don't. Anyway, I actually have stuff I need to do today. I hadn't realised you were planning to spend the whole day with me.'

'Oh.' Quatre bit his lip, looking down at his hands. 'I'm sorry. I just thought….we haven't seen each other all week. I thought it would be nice to spend some time together. Why did you not think I'd want to have the day with you?'

Trowa shrugged. 'You always seem to be doing millions of things. I thought maybe you'd want to spend time with your family or something.'

'But you're my boyfriend!' Quatre sounded genuinely bewildered. 'Of course I want to be with you. I haven't even seen you since last week.'

'I'm sorry. I don't exactly have a 9-5 job. You know that.'

'Nor do I, but what's the point of being a couple if we only get to see each other once a week?'

Fuck. This was the point when he usually heard the warning sirens; when they started to want more than he was willing to give. Which was pretty much anything more than sex and the occasional night clubbing.

And then Quatre sat up, and said the words that were usually the finally death knell.

'I think we need to talk about our relationship, don't you? About what we both want.'

Oh, fuck.

This was the problem with taking them home. You couldn't just get up and leave. And he was pretty sure that Quatre wouldn't leave if he was asked.

'I thought we were doing OK. We had fun last night. And just now. Right?'

Quatre pulled himself up against the headboard, scowling. 'I want more than fun. I want something meaningful.'

'I know you do.' Trowa bent down and kissed him, swallowing the soft little sigh as their lips touched. 'But come on, Quatre. Be realistic. This thing between the two of us. You know it's never going to come to anything. That doesn't mean we can't enjoy being together.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' Quatre told him, sadly undistracted by the kiss. 'Why can it never come to anything? Do you think I'm just with you because I want sex? The sex I'm actually refusing to have with you?'

'Were you not here a few minutes ago?'

'Oh, pish tosh. I have two hands and a vibrator. I'm capable of bringing myself off.'

'That's…sort of insulting. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, from what I saw.'

Quatre produced an exasperated little huff. 'I didn't mean it like that. It's always been wonderful between us, but I don't just want, or need, a boyfriend just for sex. I want someone who'll do other things with me, and be a part of my life, and get to know my friends and my family. You don't seem interested in any of that.'

'Oh, not this again. I don't think your parents will want you bringing a total stranger to their party.'

'You wouldn't be a stranger if you met them beforehand,' Quatre retorted coolly. 'And I think they'd actually love to meet their only son's boyfriend.'

Trowa sighed. Shit. 'Whatever. Look, I don't exactly fit into your world, do I?'

'Not if you're not prepared to make the effort, no.' He drew his knees up to his chin and wrapped both arms around his ankles. 'I'm sorry. I don't think this is going to work, is it? We both obviously have very different views on what our relationship should be.'

There it was; a nice, easy way out. Nobody would get hurt, this early on. Much better just to let him walk away.

'Quatre. I'm not with you just for sex.' He flicked his hair back, gave Quatre a small smile. 'The sex that you're so adamantly refusing to give me. I'm not comfortable meeting your family yet, OK? You've got to admit, they're kind of intimidating. But I can try to spend more time with you. Will that do?'

The blond head nodded eagerly. 'Yes, please. When are you free next week? I'm meeting a new client on Monday evening so that's out.' He dived off the bed, rummaging in his mound of luggage and surfacing with an iPad in one hand.

'Wow.' Trowa tried not to drool. It wasn't easy. Gorgeous naked guy holding gorgeous shiny gadget. 'I thought they weren't on sale in Sanque yet.'

'Oh, they're not. I had it couriered over from the States. Would you like one? It just takes a day or so to deliver.'

'Quatre, you can't buy me something like that.'

'Why ever not? If you'd like one, I'll get you one.' His fingers flickered over the screen. 'Let's see. How about Tuesday?'

Trowa shook his head, relieved that they'd apparently moved on from the subjects of obscenely expensive gifts. He'd known Quatre for long enough to realise that the little blond's favourite thing, sex and shopping notwithstanding, was making plans. 'No good for me. Wednesday?' God, it was ridiculous, really; if this kept up, he'd have to start keeping a diary of his own.

'Wednesday, let's see,' Quatre murmured, looking at the screen. 'Oh, I'm sorry. I'm going to a film with Wufei in the evening.'

'Excuse me? Wufei? As in the guy you dumped to be with me? And now you're standing me up to spend time with him?'

Quatre clicked his tongue irritably. 'I'm doing nothing of the sort. I meet him on the train most mornings and sometimes we go and have tea together. I told you. We both have tickets for the French film festival and he suggested that we go together. I would have asked you except that you've already told me that you hate subtitled films.'

'Oh, right, so it's my fault your ex gets to be with you.'

'It's only one evening and you can come if you like.' He gazed at Trowa soulfully. 'What's wrong? Don't you trust me?'

Fuck. Trowa wasn't the greatest guy at relationships, but even he knew there was only one possible answer to that question. Especially if he ever wanted to get Quatre into bed again.

'Of course I trust you.' More or less. Trust was a commodity that had to be earned over time; he'd hadn't known Quatre anywhere near long enough. 'I'm just not sure I trust this guy who seems to be trying to move in on my boyfriend. My utterly gorgeous, sexy, irresistible boyfriend,' he added, brushing a kiss across Quatre's mouth for good measure.

It worked. Quatre sparkled up at him. 'You don't have to worry, I promise. He knows perfectly well that I'm with you. I'm sorry, but I've already promised to meet him. How about Thursday?'

Trowa nodded; what the hell? If he was supposed to be doing something else, he'd cancel it.

'What shall we do? Where would you like to go?'

Trowa – almost – suppressed an urge to laugh and then just gave in. 'Have you ever been bowling?' It was something he and Duo did, sometimes. And it would give him plenty of opportunities to leer at Quatre's ass when he bent over.

'No. But I love trying new things. Let's do that. On condition that you let me choose the restaurant for dinner.'

'OK. On condition that it's not some poncey five-star place that costs a fortune. And it has to be in Sanque,' he added hurriedly.

Quatre laughed. 'Drat. I know the loveliest little bistro in Paris, overlooking the Seine.'

'Nope. Maybe some other time.' Right, that was sorted. Enough time wasted on talking. 'If you really like to try new things, I could suggest something.'

'No. A minute ago, you had all sorts of jobs to do today. Can't I help?'

Trowa grinned at that. 'I doubt it, unless you've been hiding the fact that you're a professional dog handler. I teach a couple of training classes at the local vet's on Saturday afternoon. You can come along and watch if you like.'

'I'm not sure if I'd enjoy that, actually. Would you mind if I just stayed here? I could take one of your horses out for a bit.'

'You won't be bored?'

'I'll be fine. It'll be a nice change for me. Really. I'll just call my neighbours to ask them to feed Samira and then I can stay here tonight and we can go to the bike rally together in the morning. Perfect.' He tapped on his iPad – lovely thing – apparently happy to have every second of the next twenty four hours planned out.

'About that. Seriously, Quatre. I don't think you'll be into it.'

'But I'm looking forward to it! I've even bought a leather jacket and a pair of jeans with a studded belt so I can fit in properly.'

'I like the idea of you in leather and studs. But you could just model them here for me? We don't need to actually go anywhere.'

'Maybe some other time,' Quatre teased back. 'I have to go because I'm meeting Zechs there and introducing him to a friend who wants to commission a painting from him.'

'At a bike rally? That seems a bit odd.'

'Yes, I know, but Heero, that's my friend, has just got engaged to a friend of my sister and he wants a portrait of her, but he's had meetings for the last couple of days and he's flying back to Japan on Monday and Zechs was planning to go to the rally anyway and there wasn't really any other time that suited them and since I know them both I offered to meet them there and introduce them…'

'OK, OK, I get it,' Trowa said hurriedly. He hadn't a clue what any of that meant, didn't really want to get into it. Quatre could sort out his own tangled social engagements. 'Look, I'd better go. I'm supposed to be working at two.'

Driving back home, several hours later, he was actually looking forward to Quatre still being there. Well, assuming he hadn't got bored by himself and gone home. It was an oddly pleasant little fantasy; that he could pull up outside the door and Quatre would run out to meet him with one of those blindingly happy smiles.

It didn't happen like that. He could hear the dogs barking in the kennel, but there was no other sign of life. Shit. Maybe he hadn't bothered to stay after all. Trowa parked the car and did a quick sweep of the stables, in case he was still there.

Quatre hadn't just mucked out the stalls; the tack he'd used was gleaming . Trowa shook his head in bemusement. He'd never figure the guy out. He wouldn't carry his own suitcase but he'd obviously spent a couple of hours cleaning the stable yard.

He was on his knees in the flowerbed Trowa had planted at the side of the barn, when Duo had given him some rose bushes. He had a couple of leaves in his hair, a smudge on one cheek, and his hands were covered in little scratches. He also had a fair amount of Trowa's garden on his cream linen trousers.

'What are you doing?'

'Weeding. How do you expect these unfortunate flowers to survive when their roots are choked up with dandelions ? And I bet you've never pruned them!'

'I never have time.' Trowa leaned against the wall, a broad grin on his face. 'I wouldn't have thought you'd be the type to like gardening.'

'I love it.' Quatre tugged at a particularly stubborn root and flung it at Trowa's feet. 'You need to start looking after your poor flowers. They'll die if you keep neglecting them like that.'

'I've got you to do it for me. You know, I'm starting to think I might keep you. You're pretty useful to have around the place.'

'I'm not sure if I want to be kept as your handyman.'

Trowa's grin widened. 'I'm sure I could find you a few interesting things to do with your hands.

'Could you indeed?' Quatre's gaze sharpened. 'What are you hiding behind your back? Is it something for me? Did you get me a present?'

Trowa produced the little posy of late bluebells he'd noticed on the drive home, feeling absurdly shy about it. Stupid, but he'd never given anyone flowers before, and Quatre was probably used to getting orchids or lilies from whoever he was dating.

'Oh, they're beautiful!' He couldn't have looked more pleased if Trowa had handed him an armful of exotic blooms. 'How did you know bluebells are my favourite flowers?'

'I just guessed. I saw that picture in your kitchen last night. How was your ride anyway?'

Quatre grinned. 'Almost as good as the one this morning. I love it out here. I even saw a couple of deer in the forest.'

'Did you see the peregrines?'

'I don't know. What are they?'

'Birds of prey. There's a pair nesting behind the house. They're pretty rare in Sanque.'

Quatre didn't look terribly interested. 'I don't know anything about birds. Are they like pheasants? Can you eat them?'

'No! Of course you can't. They're an endangered species. But talking about food, I should go and get dinner started.'

'Oh, it's taken care of,' Quatre glowed happily up at him. 'I defrosted the chicken you had in the freezer and put it in the oven. It should be ready soon. I love roast dinners at the weekend, don't you? ' His smile turned into something closer to a smirk. 'I must say, for someone who claims to be a vegetarian you have a lot of meat in your kitchen.'

'You cook too? Right, I'm definitely keeping you here.' This was so – odd. Arriving home to dinner on the table wasn't something that usually happened, not since Duo had left. Cathy did cook when she visited, but her culinary repertoire was confined to heating up canned soups or frozen dinners. 'It's for Duo, mostly. But I do eat chicken sometimes, if it's organic.'

'Yes, I called Duo to check.' Quatre stood up, making a face as he noticed what a mess his clothes were in. 'Oh, can you call him back? I don't think it was anything important.'

'Sure.' Trowa was flipping his 'phone open when Quatre cleared his throat, very loudly. 'What?'

The blond smiled up at him. 'I've just made you dinner, cleaned up your stable, and weeded your flowers, totally spoiling a new pair of trousers in the process, I might add. Don't I at least get a kiss for all my trouble?'

 

~ * ~

Chapter 20

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