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" Taking it All "Written By: Emerald Pillow Warnings: angst and lemon (so far) Pairings: 1x3x1, 3+4 Disclaimer: I don't own GW or the characters, though I'd like to. You can try to sue me for messing up their lives royaly, but all you'll get is my cat that looks like Trowa, but named Duo. Author's note: This is probably the first fic that I started posting before finsihing it. . .so it may take a little longer to get everything up than usual. . .but I hope you enjoy it, and hopefully your requests will push me to finish it. . .since I haven't finished one in a loooooooooong time. Kudos
"Taking it All "
Chapter 2 Quatre’s features tighten in concern as he pulled the towel from Trowa’s wet head. The Latin seemed pale, and exhausted. Which wasn’t a large surprise. After all, he stayed out with Heero tonight during the snowstorm. The flakes were heavier with rain than what the weather anchor had warned, leaving Trowa to once again point out that anything really could go wrong with the perfect Colony, as well as a feeling of getting sick. “Feeling better?” Quatre asked softly, knowing that for some odd reason, last year Trowa had been prone to flu and colds. He just didn’t want the same thing to happen again this year. “A little.” Trowa assured, but refused eye contact. He made no resistance as Quatre placed the back of his hand against Trowa’s warm flesh. “You’re coming down with a fever already. Trowa, what were you thinking? What was Heero thinking? He knows you’re not like him. He never gets sick. He should have brought you home long before now.” As he scolded like a mother over a delinquent child, he stood and opened the medicine cabinet over the sink. “Good thing I picked up some vapor rub yesterday.” Trowa looked up at Quatre. The Arab was always fussing over him, much like Catherine did when he was a clown, and he wondered if Heero would baby him like this if they were together. A smile pulled his lips. He had a feeling that Heero would, but without the scolding. “Once this is on, you should probably go to bed.” Quatre broke through his thoughts, and sat on the toilet seat again. “Straight to bed?” Trowa asked in a seductively weak tone, and Quatre grinned. “Yes. You ended up with pneumonia last year. We’re going to prevent that this time.” “They say that body heat is the best source of warmth.” “Trowa . . .stop it.” Trowa’s grin widen as he watched Quatre fish out an honest amount of vapor rub onto his fingertips. “Unbutton your shirt, and stop thinking bad.” Chuckling, Trowa did as told. “You must not be too sick if you’re able to still think like that.” Trowa closed his eyes as Quatre’s smooth hand ran along his chest. It wasn’t the same. Whatever was in Heero’s touch wasn’t in Quatre’s. Why? What was missing? He opened his eyes and lifted them to Quatre. He still found the blonde beautiful. His touch was still inviting and warm, but not as numbing as Heero’s. What happened? Or more appropriately, why was it never there? “Trowa, is something wrong?” “No, Kitten. Everything’s fine.” He was lying. He didn’t even think about it, the words were just spilling as if they were naturally the correct answer. “Are you sure? You looked deeply in thought just now.” “I’m tired . . .that’s all.” Maybe that was all. Maybe his brain was too clouded from fatigue to honestly answer any questions. At least that answer was honest. “You know that if there’s ever anything wrong, you can tell me.” “I know . . .I just . . .I think I need to lie down.” That said, Trowa pushed to his feet and left the room. Quatre stared after his boyfriend, wondering what was going on. Ever since last night, he had been acting strangely, and nothing like the man that he fell in love with. He just wished Trowa would confide in him, rather than leaving him to make his own conclusions. Sighing, he headed into the bedroom to find that Trowa was already in bed and covered. He must not have been kidding about not feeling well. Usually, the Latin was always in the mood for sex. Now even more concerned, Quatre crawled under the blankets, next to Trowa. Upon feeling the bed shifting, Trowa turned onto his side so that he could face the blonde. “I don’t mean to give you a hard time.” Trowa spoke softly and Quatre gently cradled his head in an embrace. “It’s okay, you’re not feeling well right now.” Trowa inhaled deeply, wanting to smell Quatre’s natural, soothing fragrance, but all he received was the headache causing vapors. Could he tell Quatre what had been happening right under his nose for the pass few months? How would the Arab take it? He didn’t want to hurt Quatre. That much he knew, but continuing with Heero in what they were doing would kill Quatre if he ever learned. There was only one solution . . .end things with Heero . . .no matter how much he really didn’t want to. ~ * ~ Chapter
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