"Wish Upon a Star "

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, AU

Pairings: 3x4

Summary: When you wish upon a star, it makes no difference who you are, unless you're the heir to the Winner business empire. So when you do find a means of escape, how long can you hold on to the fantasy, and the man of your dreams, before reality takes over?

"Wish Upon a Star "

 

Movie Night:

'Oh, they're so cute together,' Quatre bubbled happily as Trowa pulled him out of the restaurant. He'd never seen Heero so smitten with anything that didn't have an apple logo stamped on it somewhere.

'Yeah, really cute.' Trowa hauled him into a doorway, and pressed him up against the wall. 'Just like you. And it's been too long since I kissed you properly.'

'Trowa! We can't.' Admittedly, it was dark, but there were streetlights, and people were walking past.'

'Quatre, sweetheart, haven't you ever heard of positive thinking? Yes, we can!'

Sweetheart.

Quatre dissolved into Trowa's arms at the endearment, and offered his mouth.

'There you go.' Trowa finished the kiss with a little nip to his bottom lip, and a lick to make it better, and one last flick of his tongue against Quatre's. 'Now let's get you back home so we can make out properly.' Then he shook his head solemnly, looking down at the blond in his arms. 'Hmm. On second thoughts, we may have to make the occasional refreshment stop on the way.'

The restaurant – Quatre had forgotten the rather odd name already – was no more than half a block from Wish. Just a few minutes' walk. It took them considerably longer to actually get home, with Trowa pushing him into every darkened doorway on the street, and describing in elaborate, exhaustive detail just what he planned to do to Quatre when they got home, and then proceeding to give him a brief sampler.

By the time Trowa finally shoved him through the front door, he had given up bothering to protest against the indecency, and even initiated his own. If he only got to be Cat for a few days, then he was damn well going to make the most of it.

Trowa flicked on the light and gave him a long up-and-down look.

'Very nice. ' He reached out and patted Quatre's bottom. 'I like these jeans. You do scrub up pretty well, don't you? I just might decide to keep you.'

'You're only with me for the way I look?' Quatre tried to sound offended; not easy with Trowa's eyes on him. 'I'm not certain if I want to be kept by someone as shallow as you, actually.' That was a lie. He couldn't imagine anything better in the entire world than to be kept by, and to keep, Trowa. Still, he stuck his nose in the air and breezed past him up the staircase.

He attempted to, at any rate. Trowa grabbed his hand, and whirled him back, pinning him against the door.

'I can do deep, baby, if you'd prefer that. Really deep.'

'Trowa!' It came out as a strangled squeak; even Quatre wasn't sure whether it was plea or protest and the taller man just chuckled lightly.

The flickering, feathery kisses along his jaw were a surprise. Tender and teasing and not remotely enough.

Quatre flung his head back, offering his throat, and Trowa immediately responded to that little gesture of submission, attacking the pale skin with an onslaught of kisses and licks and little nibbling bites.

He was going to be covered in marks; he couldn't bring himself to care. Then Trowa was taking his mouth, in one of those crushing thunder-bolt kisses, and there was one thigh thrust between his legs. Quatre could almost hear the thrum of desire pulsing through his veins, and then Trowa reached down and squeezed and his whole body convulsed.

'I came,' Quatre said stupidly, sagging against the wall, and Trowa just grinned at him.

'I noticed. Now come on. You want to watch that film, don't you?' He took Quatre's hand and began to lead him upstairs. 'You go and clean up a bit, and I'll get the DVD ready. Anything you fancy as a snack?'

'You?'

'That's a given, sweetie. I meant anything to eat.' The one visible eyebrow waggled suggestively. 'Or should I say, anything else to eat?'

'Do you have any popcorn?' Quatre asked hopefully. 'And maybe some chocolate?'

'How old are you again? Nine?' Trowa teased. 'Cat, I practically have a sweetshop in my kitchen for when Ellie comes over.'

'OK. I'll just be a minute.' Quatre cleaned off quickly in the bathroom and then found a pair of loose linen pants to wear, and a deliciously soft, worn sweater of Trowa's over them. Then he draped one of the blankets from the bed over his arm and headed back to the sitting room.

Trowa glanced up from laying a bowl of hot, delicious-smelling popcorn on the coffee table. 'Just like at the movies, huh?'

'It's wonderful.' He'd been to the cinema once or twice on Earth; it was considered too big a security risk on L4 and anyway the Winner mansion had its own home theatre.

'If you're cold, I can put on the heating for a bit.'

'I'm not cold.' Quatre draped the blanket over the couch a bit self-consciously. 'I just thought it might be fun to, um, snuggle, a little bit.'

'We can snuggle,' Trowa kissed him gently. 'All you want. I guess I can grope you just as efficiently under a blanket.'

'There's going to be groping? I thought we were going to watch the film.'

'You seriously expect me to have you in my arms and keep my hands to myself?' Trowa shook his head. 'No way. But I promise not to grope you during the exciting bits. And it's a long film; we can have an intermission.'

As it turned out, there were rather a lot of exciting bits, both on and off screen, although Trowa gallantly kept his hands to himself for the last scenes.

'Oh,' Quatre breathed as the final credits rolled on the screen. 'I was so scared Aslan was really going to die at the end.'

'I thought you said you'd read the book?'

'Years ago. And sometimes they do change the endings. I can't believe I got so caught up in it! And you weren't even paying attention!'

Trowa shrugged. 'Not easy to concentrate on a film when you've got a cute guy lying on top of you. 'Specially one who's not wearing any underwear. Anyway, I've seen it about fifty times 'cause Ellie loves it. I'm not that into CS Lewis; too much Christian allegory. I prefer Tolkien.'

'I've seen the Lord of the Rings movies,' Quatre told him. 'They were wonderful. I really liked Aragorn.'

'I preferred Legolas, but then I do have a thing for blonds.'

'Should I start growing my hair?'

'And take up archery?' Trowa laughed. 'No, you're fine the way you are, actually. Do you mean you've never read the books?'

'I'm afraid not. I've always wanted to, but I don't have a lot of free time, back home.'

'Shocking. Once you finish the Narnia books, I'm starting you on a course of Tolkien.'

'OK.' Quatre rolled over and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Oh, he loved it when Trowa said things like that, taking it for granted that Quatre – no, Cat – was going to stay with him. Sometimes, he could almost believe it himself. 'Have you always liked reading?'

'Hell, no. When I was a kid, I hated anything that involved sitting still. I had this dream that I wanted to be an Olympic gymnast. I was pretty good too, even I wasn't quite as good as I thought. Then one day I was showing off, landed badly, broke my leg in three places and that was that. Even when I healed, it was never strong enough for me to compete.'

'Oh, Trowa. I'm so sorry.' Quatre snuggled against him. 'That's awful.'

Trowa grinned. 'It was years ago, baby. I was only twelve or thirteen. I'm over it now. Anyway, the point is, I couldn't travel with the circus with my leg in a cast, and I needed to have regular hospital checks, so my parents sent me here to stay with my Aunt Kate 'til it was healed up. Anyway, I guess I got into reading because there was nothing else to do; she didn't have a TV or a computer or anything, and then I got hooked and she couldn't supply me with books fast enough.'

Quatre chuckled. 'You must have been so cute. I can just imagine you surrounded by piles of books. Well, nothing's changed really, has it?'

'Nope. Anyway, after a couple of months, I'd read everything by my favourite authors, so my aunt bought me a couple of notepads and told me to write my own stories.'

'I didn't know you wrote! Really? What sort of things?'

'Nothing all that exciting. I've had a few short stories published in magazines, and I sometimes do book reviews for the Sanque Times.' He shook his hair over his face. 'And I've sort of written a book.'

'Really?' Quatre gasped, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at Trowa properly. 'Wow! You're so clever. What's it about? Can I read it? Please? '

'Hey calm down, OK? And come back here.' He hauled Quatre back into his arms. 'Anyone can write a book, Cat. It's getting published that's the problem. If I ever wanted to redecorate this room, I could wallpaper the walls with rejection slips.'

'Then the publishers are stupid!' Quatre said firmly. 'I'm sure it's brilliant. Will you let me read it?'

Trowa shrugged. 'You can if you like. I don't know if it's your sort of thing, though. It's really a young adult novel; science fiction. It's about five teenage boys fighting to liberate their planet from aliens and they've got really cool giant robots and amazing weaponry.' He laughed at Quatre's expression. 'I told you; I don't think it'd be something you'd like.'

'Well, I'd like to read it anyway.'

'Sure. I'll show you tomorrow. Duo's done some amazing illustrations for it. We're both geeks about mechanics and weapons and stuff, so we had great fun coming up with that part of it.'

'I'm sure it will be a best seller; you just need to find the right publisher. I have two teenage nephews and they love books like that. I don't know why but I thought you'd write fantasy rather than sci-fi.'

'I like both. One of the other things I used to want to do was to be an astronaut. But Sanque doesn't have any kind of space programme, and it would have cost too much to study abroad. I've always liked science fiction though.'

'Is that how you ended up running a book shop?' Quatre pillowed his head comfortably on Trowa's shoulder. This was so perfect. Just the two of them in this warm, cosy popcorn-scented room. 'So you could read all the books, and write when it was quiet?'

Trowa kissed his forehead. 'Running a bookshop was never part of the plan. After university, I lived abroad for a few years, teaching English. Then Aunt Kate got diagnosed with cancer. I came back here and helped out in the shop, and Cathy and I took care of her.'

'That must have been terrible.'

'Yeah. It was a nightmare. She'd been like a second mother to Cathy and me. Our parents died when we were teenagers, so she took us in, and made sure we got a proper education and everything.'

'I'm so sorry,' Quatre whispered.

'Anyway, we both helped out as much as we could. In her will, she left Cathy her house, and the shop to me. I'd planned to sell it and go abroad again, but then Cathy got pregnant, with this guy who's a total loser, so I had to wait 'til the baby was born, and then I didn't want to leave them. So I'm still here.'

'Are you happy?'

'Most of the time.' He grinned. 'I'm very happy right now, in case you didn't pick up on it. It's not how I'd planned my life would work out, really, but I get to talk books all day, and I have some free time to write, and now I have this really great boyfriend, so yeah, things are good.' He stretched, careful not to dislodge his partner. 'Sorry, can you just shift a tiny bit? OK, that's better. Now, lovely Cat, you've listened to me for long enough. Your turn. Do you realise I don't even know your surname?'

'Oh. Haven't I told you?' Quatre swallowed. It wasn't exactly a lie; just his middle name instead of his surname. It's Raberba.'

'Nicely exotic,' Trowa approved.

'It's Jordanian. That's where my great-great grand-parents came from. Um, Trowa…..'

It was getting so exhausting; this web of half lies and evasions. It was so tempting just to be honest and get it done with. Except that he could still hear Trowa's words about the Winner family hammering in his head. His very surname was a curse in this country.

'Yes, Quatre?'

Quatre took a deep breath. 'I just wanted to thank you for the wonderful night I've had. I don't think I've ever had so much fun.'

'You have got to be the easiest-to-please guy in the whole universe,' Trowa murmured. 'All it takes to make you happy is a burger and a pirate DVD. So Mr. Quatre Raberba,' Trowa caressed his face with one hand, 'tell me something about yourself. I don't even know whether you live in a house or an apartment.'

'There really isn't very much to tell.' Quatre lay back down, resting his cheek on Trowa's arm. 'I have an incredibly boring life. Up until last year, I was studying for my MBA part–time, as well as working for my father, and I didn't really have a life apart from that. And I'm still living at home; that's normal for L4. People tend to stay with their parents until they get married, and then usually they just move in with their partner's family.'

'I sort of like the idea of extended families,' Trowa said softly. 'It's just me and Cathy and Ellie. It'd be nice to have some other people.'

'It is, I suppose,' Quatre allowed. 'Except all of my sisters want to run my life, especially Iria.'

'That's just a sister thing. Wait 'til you meet Cathy. You'll see her tomorrow when she drops Ellie off.'

'Do you think she'll like me?'

'She'll adore you.' Trowa gave him a firm kiss on the mouth. 'She's always on at me to find a nice guy and stop playing the field.'

Quatre blinked. 'Um. Do you?'

'Did. Past tense. What do you think I was doing at Stardust that night we met?' He wrapped both arms around Quatre's waist. 'God, I'm so glad I decided to go there. Now, we were talking about you. What was your ambition when you were a kid?'

'I'm not sure.' Quatre had to think about it. He'd always known that he was fated to end up running WEI. It hadn't left a lot of space to dream of becoming a secret agent, or a sports star. 'I've always really liked music. It would have been nice to do something with that. And I always wanted to travel. I used to spend hours poring over an atlas and planning out journeys.'

'Ever get to do any of them?'

'Not really. I did get to see a bit of Canada. That's pretty much it, though.'

'We can go and do some touristy stuff tomorrow, if you want. There's a really great maritime museum downtown, and we could maybe do a boat ride.'

'That would be wonderful. I did promise I'd meet Heero for a few hours in the morning though. I'm supposed to look over some accounts my sister Iria sent me, and he's offered to help.'

There, that wasn't totally a lie.

'We can work around that. He's a nice guy. Definitely took a shine to Duo, didn't he?'

'Absolutely! I'm so glad you liked him, you know.' And Heero had obviously reciprocated, which was wonderful.

'Pity Duo met Zechs first. I know he's a friend of yours, but he's got a reputation as a bit of a stud. I don't want Duo getting hurt.'

'I know. But they only went out once; it's not like they're actually a couple or anything.' Quatre squirmed closer to him. 'You have no idea how nice it is to be able to discuss things like this, just like normal people talking about their friends.'

'Poor Cat. You've had a pretty deprived life, haven't you? What does your father think about you being gay? He does know you are, right?'

Quatre nodded, sliding his fingers through Trowa's hair. 'Oh, yes. He doesn't like it much; I think he's hoping it's all some sort of phase and I'll grow out of it.'

'Doesn't seem to be working so far,' Trowa commented.

'No, it doesn't. I don't know, Trowa. Honestly. I don't know what I'm going to do. He …. puts up with it once I'm discreet and toe the line in every other way. When I tell him I've met someone I want to be with, he probably won't be too happy about it.'

'You're going to tell him then?'

'Yes! Of course I am.' He stroked the hair out of Trowa's eyes and looked deep into them. 'I promise. This isn't just some….holiday romance for me.'

'OK.' Trowa wrapped both arms around him. 'I believe you. So what happens after that?'

'I don't know. I'm sorry, Trowa. I want to be with you, more than anything. But I'm not sure how it's going to work.'

'Hey, don't look so sad.' Trowa's hands, caressing his face, were impossibly tender. 'We'll work it out. You know one of the things I really, really love about you? You're totally honest. You're not making this out to be some big fairytale with an automatic happy ever after.'

'I know.' Quatre hid his face in Trowa's shoulder, not able to meet that shining gaze. Trowa trusted him so much and he'd done nothing, simply nothing to deserve that. Well, he'd sort out the worst of his family's plans for Sanque, and then tell Trowa who he really was.

And pray.

'The thing with my father,' he said haltingly. 'He's not very strong. He had a bad stroke a few years ago, and he has a weak heart. I …I really love him, Trowa. I don't want to do anything that might hurt him.'

'Sh. Shhh. He loves you too, right? Ultimately, he'll just want you to be happy. Now, I want you to stop worrying about all this and come to bed.'

'I'm not at all tired,' Quatre said through a huge yawn and then laughed. 'Well, maybe a little.'

'Oh, I didn't say I was going to let you sleep,' Trowa winked, and then stood, scooping Quatre up in his arms. 'I think we have a little unfinished business to take care of, remember?'

~ * ~

Chapter 17

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