It was the end of summer, and the beginning of something new, although it felt suspiciously like a dreary day after, than anything else. I wished we could have stayed in the cottage forever, been swept away and forgotten by time and mankind, but such gifts were not to be granted any of us. We didn't know what the future held, but we knew there were few alternatives to facing it, and hiding was not one of the options. Reality and daily life waited for our return, and it was with slow and reluctant steps we headed towards the hired car that would take us back to it, that day.

           + + +

           "You look like we're heading for an execution," Trowa commented quietly, without humor in his voice, while eyeing me across the roof of the car that would take us to the spaceport.

           "Maybe we are," I muttered evasively.

           Ever watchful green eyes regarded me in silence as we stepped into the car. One should never mourn an unhappy event that has not yet happened, but I wished there were some way I could spare Trowa from the inevitable confrontation with my family. It wasn't that I expected them to reject and disown me - being the head of the family had its merits after all - but I wanted to shield Trowa from their reactions, should they be of disgust or anger.

           For as long as I could remember, I'd been aware that I was different, been made to protect my feelings and myself or suffer the consequences of fellow classmates' ill hidden disgust. It was easy enough when you knew what to do - never look twice at another boy, smile pleasantly at the gushing girls, then pretend to be more interested in books than people. Worked amazingly well, but the theory did not exactly create any opportunities for friendship. Not to mention my family had no idea about my inclinations. It had always been better that way, yet sometimes I regretted having kept them in ignorance.

           It was not for myself I worried, knowing that my sisters would not step out of the boundaries of a good upbringing in my presence. I feared more that they would take it out on Trowa. He who'd never had to deal with the narrow-mindedness and arrogance of those who thought they knew better in matters of morals, how would he handle a completely new situation, especially when he had me to take into consideration? Although I love him much, I must say that interacting with other humans is not one of Trowa's stronger sides. He's much too honest for that, which is not a good strategy in this particular case. Humility would be, but I did not trust Trowa to instinctively know this.

           Trowa... Trowa was inexperienced in handling emotions, and wouldn't know how to protect himself against the anger that may come, against the rage, against the hurtful words. Having never been exposed to the peculiarities of the "well bred" ones, my family would no doubt disappoint him. I wished I could shield him from the cruelties that surely awaited us, or at least prepare him for what was about to come.

           In the reflection of the dark window, I could tell he was looking at me, waiting for me to speak. I would have, had I known how to politely bring to his attention that my family could blame it all on him. See him as the corrupter of the illusion they thought was the real me. They would say that I wasn't like this at all, he made me do it. Trowa wouldn't understand why they turned on him instead of me. And they call me the innocent one...

           "Is something wrong," he asked, eventually.

           "It's my family," I tried, tentatively, not sure of which words to choose.

           "You didn't tell them about me," Trowa supplied, without a hint of emotion in his voice.

           Was I really that transparent? Was the lack of inflection in his voice covering up his disappointment in me? Sometimes I wished my link with him was stronger, that I might tap in not only on his feelings, but also on his thoughts, to secretly evaluate the situation and prepare the next move. /It doesn't matter,/ the feeling in Trowa told me, but it didn't help me much. My mind fell silent, not clueing me in on how to proceed. Even if Trowa didn't mind, I was still disappointed in myself. I should have told them a long time ago.

           "I'm sorry," I offered, sincere but quiet.

           A smile, and Trowa pulled me into a loose embrace. I knew already then that he would never hold any of my actions against me, this one least of all. But did he really understand? At times like this, I hoped that he could read me the way I couldn't read him, hoped that he understood the reasons for my action when I didn't myself. Maybe I was just a coward.

           "It's not that I'm ashamed... I just..." fumbling for words, I ran out of the right ones just short of my goal.

           "You want to protect me from them, or anyone, for as long as you can," Trowa told me quietly, and it sounded like he had known this truth for a long time.

           "How did you know?" I asked, lopsided smile trying to cover up my embarrassment. He was right, though. Like I had been an open book.

           "As long as I've known you, Quatre Winner, you have always sacrificed yourself for the benefit of others. Why should it be any different with me?"

           "You make it sound so trite," I blurted out, feeling the sudden need to defend myself. "You're different," I whispered, moments later, looking up at him. "This is different."

           Arms wrapped closer around me, and his lips touched mine, then, in a reassuring kiss, as he bent down slightly. Sighing, I rested my cheek on his shoulder. We stayed still for countless moments, the landscape changing outside the window of the car being the only thing moving.

           "Is it that bad?" Trowa asked, after a while.

           For a while, I pretended I hadn't heard his question. Snuggling close to Trowa, with my head against his heart, and his arm around my shoulder, I always felt as if nothing could hurt me. Sometimes I wished we could stay like that forever, safe from the world outside. I guess that would be considered hiding from reality, but I could care less.

           It had taken so much to lure little feelings and reactions out of Trowa, I didn't want anything to ruin the loving, although somewhat shy, person he had become. Trowa must be protected, at all costs. The moment drew longer, the silence was no longer companionable. I knew Trowa expected an answer. Was it that bad? Yes, and no, but I didn't want to make any mistakes this time, so it was better to expect the worse, and prepare for it.

           "Maybe," was the only explanation I offered, thoughts not forming any other coherent sentences to give him.

           I knew I had to tell him somehow, prepare him. But how? To bring up a possible danger would certainly have Trowa revert back to his usual personality of "I can handle it myself", or maybe even "I don't need your help". Much like Duo protecting his beloved colony, Trowa had this sense of responsibility when there was none needed. Given the chance, he would most likely choose to solve the problem himself, to spare others from getting involved. But then again, wasn't that just what I was trying to do? Desperation filled me then, when I realized there was no good way of preventing this possible disaster.

           "I understand you want to spare me from hurt, but Quatre... I'm not made of glass," Trowa said, eventually, voice quiet and sincere.

           Perhaps he understood anyway, without any explanations. At least he didn't challenge it as Duo would have, with a flippant "surely it can't be that bad." Quietly, I thanked Trowa for being less insistent. Yet, I owed him an explanation.

           "I just... I want you to know it can become unpleasant," I managed, for once finding the right words. Seeking his eyes before continuing, I sat up in his lap. "I want you to know that when people are confronted with things they don't understand, they say the most horrible things."

           "Thank you for telling me," Trowa smiled softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

           "You can leave... before it gets bad. I wouldn't mind," I spoke, regretting it in an instant. Did 'at all costs' really include pushing Trowa away from me to protect him? Why was I suddenly so stubborn?

           "Do you want me to leave?"

           "No... I just..." I never finished the sentence, trailing off before I could make it worse than it already was.

           The car went silent again, as Trowa considered my words. I think he understood my worry then, the near-mad need to protect him, keep him from changing too much because of ill-minded people. It was childish, I knew, and I made my mind up then to more consciously fight the fear of... whatever it was. Perhaps losing him? Would he leave me if my sisters made him? Would he choose their wishes over mine?

           "You've taught me so much, Quatre, now let me learn this lesson as well," came the calm reply, his voice serious, letting me know he would allow no more sacrifices being made for his benefit.

           I nodded; there was nothing else to do. To shield an innocent child against the cruelties of the world may be the right thing to do, but Trowa was neither child nor in need of my protection. I would just do what I knew he loved me for - stand by his side, simply offering my silent support no matter what. Prepared or not, this was how it had to be.

           Lulled by his heartbeat, I fell into a dreamless meditative state of mind, and we traveled like that for what seemed an eternity. The late afternoon twilight slowly faded into night, and the dim lights of the highway and distant cities was the only thing that stopped the otherwise total blackness that surrounded us. The quiet melancholy faded, transforming into a feeling of reassurance. We would get through this too; I was worrying about nothing. Suddenly, the window separating the back of the car from the driver's seat pulled down with a whir from the electric mechanism, and the driver of the car turned to address us.

           "I'm sorry to disturb, but we'll be at the space-port in little over two hours, Mr. Winner. There are blankets in the front compartment, try to get some sleep," the chauffeur told us, before pulling the window up again.

           "Thank you," I replied, sitting up to fetch a blanket; it was a bit chilly.

           Shivering slightly, I wrapped the blanket around myself, and once again lay down on Trowa's semi-inclining body, covering both of us with the soft cloth. Slowly seeping up the warmth radiating from Trowa, I snuggled deeper into the blanket, lacing my fingers with his. His callused hands played with my fingers, guiding them around his abdomen, across his chest, then downwards again in a playful and not entirely innocent manner. Placing my hand on his side, his nimble fingers played with the buttons of my shirt, then slipped inside.

           He startled me with his purposeful caresses, aiming in on all my sensitive spots with practiced ease, exploiting them all. I would eventually have to stop him, but for just a short moment, I let him do as he pleased. And truth to be told, it pleased me too. Pinching and rubbing, he sent little tingles of awakening pleasure through my nerve-endings, gathering at the center of my body. He knew that very well, of course, for his questing hands deftly unbuckled my belt, and slid the now constraining garment down. Skilled fingers brushed against my hardening length, then, coaxing another wave of desire to rush through my body.

           "Trowa..." I moaned, hanging on to the last piece of clarity of mind as I urged him to stop.

           But the hand didn't stop, not even for a short moment. Turning to face me, he captured my mouth with his, in an unusually fiery kiss. His hands never stopped stroking me, not until he was sure I was fully aroused, beyond the point of an easy return. Then he stilled. I breathed deeply to steady myself, brushing only lightly against his lingering hands. Eyes searching his for an answer to this sudden change in mood, I could tell he was as aroused as I was by this little game.

           "Quatre, make love to me," Trowa suddenly spoke.

           "Wha? Here? But..."

           "He won't disturb us, he thinks we're asleep," Trowa half-whispered, smug grin playing on his lips.

           My cheeks heated at the thought, while Trowa pulled me closer for another passionate kiss. My body once again responded to his touches, although my mind still wondered whether this was wise or not. But how do you resist the forbidden temptation of Trowa, who knew exactly where to touch, where to caress? Before long, he had full control over my body, and our clothing littered the floor of the compartment. I stopped then, to admire the miracle of my skin on his, hand against heart.

           A smile, almost shy, played across his features, made my heart hurt for him. Hidden under thick layers of indifference and cold soldier experience, was a boy no older than I was, curious about a world of things he hadn't experienced before. I felt old and jaded then, seeing his joy and innocence that had survived only by not even being aware of the possibility. No matter what happened tomorrow, I would never let anyone hurt him. I didn't realize I was crying until he smoothed my tears away with his thumbs. He only smiled, shook his head, before pulling me closer.

           Wrapping my arms around his bare waist, I nuzzled the tanned skin of his chest, determined to dispel the remnants of the cursed melancholy. Our bodies melted together, almost as one, and I could feel his hardened length against my stomach. Flushing a little at the sudden realization of what we were doing nearly in public, I attacked one of his nipples to suppress the embarrassed grin. Grazing the little nub with my teeth, I nibbled my way across his chest, encouraged by the deepening breaths of Trowa.

           His hands brushing through my hair, and ever so gently applying pressure in a downward motion, was all the encouragement I needed to proceed. Tracing a wet line of kisses down his chest, past his navel, I could feel his breathing deepening in anticipation as I closed in on my goal. Still worried though, I sped up my movements to minimize the risk of getting caught. Never hesitating, I didn't stop to tease him this time, like I used to.

           Enveloping my mouth around his engorged member, feeling the pulsating vein against my tongue, I touched him the way I knew he liked it best, eliciting a soft mewling sound from the normally reserved Trowa. He wasn't the only one who knew all the right spots, after all. I withdrew with a knowing grin, ignoring his unspoken protest as I rummaged around my bag for the accessory we needed.

           "Left pocket, under the book," Trowa instructed me, and I found the tube in an instant.

           Never bothering to comment on how he knew exactly where it was, I merely watched as he slid down on the seat to allow me easier access, before moving closer. He pulled his legs up in an open invitation, watching me as I administrated the cold gel of the tube on my fingers, smearing it out. Soon, the liquid was warm in my hand, and gently, I touched his most private part with a shiny finger, brushing past it several times before slowly pushing inside. He closed his eyes as my mouth returned to his heated member, his hands clutching the seat.

           Working him with both mouth and hands, my fingers searching and finding the secret place within that made Trowa tense and forget everything, I stretched him while giving him pleasure. Perhaps sensing the shortage of time, he never bothered asking me to slow down, like he did sometimes before, and all too soon, he tensed, filling my mouth with his warm seed. Swallowing as much as I could, I licked up the little errant droplets on my lips, seeking his eyes for any kind of approval. It wasn't the most magnificent of times shared, but Trowa seemed happy enough, grinning lazily and gazing at me from half-lidded eyes. I was perfectly willing to let it stay with this, but Trowa kept stroking my sweetly aching parts with his naked foot, clearly indicating he was expecting more.

           Gracefully, he slid further down on the seat, and wrapped his bare legs around my waist. I pulled him closer, moved his slender but strong legs over my shoulders, maneuvering us into perfect alignment. A kiss placed under his right knee, almost hovering over my shoulder, and it all began. I could only go with the flow as he pulled me towards him, closer, then into him with only little resistance. He closed his eyes as I pushed into that confined space, brows set in a little pained frown that soon faded away. Ever stoic, Trowa would never complain over a minor discomfort as this, although I sometimes wished he would. I kissed him anyway, placed my lips in the corner of his eyes, brushing away imaginary tears of pain, asking for forgiveness when none was needed.

           Before going too far down the road of self-reproach, he forced me to think of more urgent matters, as he pulled me in closer again, to finish what I had started. Subtle but eager movements told me exactly what he wanted, but I held back, clinging to his chest in a feeble attempt to go slower, to stop the tingling fire that spread out of control. But slowly, inevitably, coherent thought escaped me, the deeper into him I fell.

           Once sheathed deeply inside of him, I paused, catching my breath, trying to steady myself against the movements of the car. Head thrown back on the seat, Trowa gazed back at me, tensing lustfully as each bump in the road made me go either deeper inside of him, or withdraw slightly. Hands unfolding from the blanket he had held in a firm grip, he moved up to pull my face closer, have our lips meet in a messy kiss, more hungry than refined.

           "Make me yours," his voice, soothing yet encouraging in a demanding sort of way, told me.

           I had to close my eyes then, or I would have lost it there within moments. Strange, how his words have that effect on me. Perhaps it's because he so rarely told me what he really desired. Taking a firm hold of his hips, he let out a little gasp of surprise as I withdrew, only to plunge back into him again, not too tenderly. Stunned only for a short moment, he put his hands over mine, almost as if he dared me to do it again. I didn't miss the glint in his eyes, encouraging me onwards. I could do nothing but obey him and my body's desires, conveniently coinciding.

           Surroundings totally forgotten, I buried myself in him again and again, only numbly noting his gasps and whimpers, increasing in volume. And for every thrust, there was a demand for more in his inarticulate groans, mostly drowned out by the sounds of the moving car. My mouth sought out the bared expanse of his neck, eventually finding its way to his parted lips, and we kissed, his moans mixing with my own. It didn't last long, this frantic search for the short but blessed peak. I shuddered, my pace becoming desperate and irregular. He held me tight, pulled my shoulders close to him, as I climaxed, hard and purifying. Mind blank, I collapsed on him, let him support me against the ravages of pleasure made physical.

           + + +

           Perhaps it had been a lesson for me - Trowa was not afraid of what may happen if we got caught, or what would happen when we announced the news to my family - perhaps I just worried too much. It didn't matter then, though, as I fell asleep with my head against his chest on the narrow car seat. No matter what happened, we would face it together.

- end -