Disclaimer: GW and all things associated belong to Sunrise
& the Sotsu Agency.
Notes: Thank you, Lilias, for your beta-reading and your
Battling Quakers.
CHAPTER THREE: Rushing and Gushing
The first fraternity rush party of the year was held
("according to tradition," Duo informed us) by the Omega Zetas. They were the elites, the specials. Only the most upper class, sophisticated
students were allowed to pledge, and no one but the crème de la crème made it
beyond hazing. I knew some members from
the swim team who were members—usually athletes were the only ones who made it
in.
As much as I hated the elitism, I was mortified to find
myself in awe of them. The fraternity
president was none other than Zechs Merquise.
He didn't fit the typical image of a frat boy, living in the dorms as an
RA and concentrating on adolescent psychology.
But he didn't look out of place among the gorgeous and wealthy athletes,
either. Noin remained at his side—or on
his lap—for most of the evening, a reminder to every single fellow in the house
that there were plenty of reasons to envy Zechs.
"It's a bunch of crap," Duo scowled. He hated the fraternities and sororities
even more than I did, but he reluctantly acknowledged that the Ozzies, as the
Omega Zetas were affectionately called, threw the best parties on campus.
Wufei, meanwhile, seemed to be absorbing everything with
an unusual light in his eyes. It was
rare to see him looking so content; it made him even more attractive overall,
and I could tell that some of the girls at the party agreed with me.
"Are you going to pledge?" I asked, low enough
to keep Duo from overhearing and making some kind of public declaration that
would get us in trouble.
Wufei shrugged.
"They're the athletic frat.
Everyone knows that. So if I
pledge here, I'll be at home in a way."
Trowa seemed to agree with Wufei's logic. "Treize Khushrenada is their faculty
advisor, you know."
"Who's that?" I asked. I was feeling (not for the first time) like an outsider.
Wufei snorted.
"He's a new on the faculty this year—got his master's from Sanq
three years ago. He's one of the best
soccer players of our generation. He
played for the Romafeller team—they later became known as the Treize Faction,
even. They were the Sanq Nationals
winner three times in succession. Coach
Noventa says he's the best keeper this school ever had."
Trowa was nodding in agreement, so I figured there had to
be some truth in Wufei's gushing. And
Wufei didn't really seem the type to gush.
Heero and Duo, having made the first round through the
frat house, appeared to inform us who was there.
"Get this," Duo said, pulling Trowa and me
close. "Une's a bitch if she's
your TA, but she's got legs to kill."
He motioned toward a brunette surrounded by a bunch of jocks. She was lovely with dark brown hair and warm
brown eyes. She was older, too—probably
twenty-three or so. Her figure was
everything that Duo seemed to be attracted to in a girl: curvy and shapely and
shown off by a tight dress.
"You'd never have a chance," Trowa snorted.
Duo laughed in return.
"I had her for 18th-century lit last year. I don't think anyone could get her in the
sack. But I'd love to see one of you
try!"
I rolled my eyes.
Was this what my whole year was going to be like? Soccer-speak from Wufei and Trowa? Testosterone competitions instigated by
Duo? Nothing but silence and brooding
from Heero?
"I'm out of here," I mumbled, pushing my way
through the throng of people dancing and drinking. The loud music and smoky atmosphere were beginning to get to
me.
The porch wasn't much better; all of the pot-smokers had
been told (by Zechs) to "take it outside." Apparently his views on drugs extended beyond RA duties. But now the porch reeked, and I had to go
out to the street before I could breathe fresh air.
"I'm glad you came tonight." I felt Relena's arms wrap around me from
behind, her head leaning against my shoulder.
"My friend Dorothy's inside, waiting to meet you."
I sighed. Would
there be no end to the introductions? I
followed her back inside, dodging the two drunken Ozzies who were trying to
out-do each other, hitting on a tall, disinterested girl with braids. Relena led me through a thick crowd toward
the kitchen, where a group of girls were gathered. They were all centered on a pair of blondes—one petite and cute,
the other tall and gorgeous, with the longest hair I'd ever seen on a person.
Relena yanked the tall one aside. "This is Dorothy Catalonia," she
said cordially. "Dorothy, this is
Quatre Winner."
I shook Dorothy's hand, giving a nervous hello.
"Winner?" she asked. "As in Winner Enterprises?"
I nodded.
"That would be my dad's company."
She smiled, but it didn't seem to reach her eyes. "I guess you're a business major then,
huh?"
"Nope."
I shook my head proudly.
"My closest sister and I are the black sheep of the family; she
went into medicine and I'm studying music."
"He's a regular rebel," Trowa said, coming up
behind me. He leaned over in order to
shake Dorothy's hand. "I'm Trowa
Barton."
I glared at him.
He was such an attention-hog. As
he made his way over to get a second can of beer, Dorothy and I watched
him.
"How much you want to bet he gets Sylvia's
attention?" she asked Relena.
"Who?" I asked.
Relena grinned and gestured to the small blonde who had
been chatting with Dorothy previously.
"Sylvia Noventa. The
coach's daughter, and Dorothy's roommate.
Apparently the girl has a thing for pretty boys. I'm surprised she hasn't introduced herself
to you yet!"
I shook my head.
"Nyah. I'm not as
attention-worthy as Trowa."
"Maybe you need to demand attention," Relena
suggested. "Try this." She undid all the buttons of my shirt and
pushed it back to expose my chest. I
felt like a fool, but I was thankful for all the time I spent in the pool.
"Mmm... I certainly like that," Dorothy
murmured, flashing a lecherous grin.
I blushed furiously, but forgot a minute later, when I
noticed Sylvia flirting with Trowa.
Relena was watching her as well. "She's pretty," she said dryly, "but she's
something else."
She was certainly pretty.
And she was throwing herself at my roommate. Trowa didn't seem to be too bothered with it, either, which did
little to alleviate my uneasiness. He
flirted back casually, but I was comforted with the awareness that his smile
wasn't real. So maybe he was just
trying to let her down easy.
"Who's the babe?" Duo asked, coming into the
room to offer Relena a swig of his beer.
She refused, then left in search of Heero.
"That's Sylvia." I sounded bitter.
Duo snorted.
"Not Noventa!"
I nodded.
"That'd be the one."
"Way to go, Tro-man!
He would be the guy to snag the attention of the most popular—and
easiest, from what I've heard—girl on campus!" he exclaimed. "And check this out: Wufei managed to
catch Sally Po's attention. She's
possibly the hottest girl I've ever seen.
And she's smart, too, but usually doesn't go for guys at all. I'm impressed!" He gestured over to the next room, where
Wufei was talking to the braided girl I had seen earlier. I suppose she was pretty, though hardly the
type I'd imagine Wufei going for.
I left the kitchen; I'd never felt more alone in my
life. It was completely
irrational. So what if Relena had
Heero? If Wufei spent time with an
older woman? If Trowa flirted with a
pretty girl? It shouldn't have mattered
to me. But my thoughts were consumed
with petty concerns. I wondered about
Cathrine—did she know that Trowa liked to flirt with other girls? What if Sylvia kissed him? Would he passively let her do it, not
telling her that he had ties elsewhere?
Why would he, though? He'd never
proven himself to be a loyal person in any way; I'd assumed it because I liked
him. But what if he cheated on Cathrine
on a regular basis? If that were the
case, why wouldn't he want to get laid?
It was only natural, I guess.
"Are you all right?" Wufei asked, laying a hand
on my arm.
I shook my head.
"I have a headache. I'm
going to head back to the room. I'll
see you later, then?"
Wufei and Sally exchanged glances. "Uh—I'll be back sometime
tomorrow," he said, a small blush tingeing his cheeks.
Great. So I was
the only one who wasn't getting lucky?
"Well, umm... have a good evening, you guys," I responded
lamely. I said goodbye to Heero and
Relena and even Dorothy before heading back to the dorm.
What a waste.
***
It wasn't long before I was at home dealing with one of
the worst tension headaches I'd had in a long time. After putting on a favorite Mendelssohn CD, I changed into
pajamas and crawled up into the loft.
I drifted in and out of sleep, but about forty minutes
into the CD—when the Hebrides Overture was beginning—Trowa came home.
And he brought Sylvia Noventa with him.
"Shhh," he whispered as they crept into the
room. "My roommate's asleep."
She giggled and said something too soft for me to hear.
"No," he answered her, his voice low. "I doubt he's into that. But don't worry—when he has his headaches,
he's out for the night." He pulled
her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist.
I couldn't avert my eyes when they kissed. Sure, I'd seen people kiss before—but they'd
always had the knowledge that they were kissing in public. And I'd seen plenty of movies, but they were
never like this. Movie kisses were
more... choreographed. But this kiss. It was spine-tingling. Stimulating. Erotic.
In the meager light coming from the window, I was able to
see their lips caressing each other, their tongues invading, their souls being
swallowed up.
And I'd never in my life wanted to be someone else as
badly as I did right then.
I watched the way Trowa moved his hands, one minute
splayed across her back, the next touching her breast. He led her to his bed, and I could only
listen as they undressed each other while the Hebrides Overture gave the
illusion of waves crashing against the shore.
It was surreal.
Their whispered voices carried over the music. I could tell by their tones that they were
talking dirty to each other, but luckily I couldn't make out the individual
words. Trowa's voice was husky and
gruff, and every time I closed my eyes I pictured him speaking to me in that
same manner.
Moaning followed shortly, along with tiny gasps and sighs
as they explored each other's bodies. I
buried my face in my pillow, mortified to be eavesdropping on such a personal
thing.
Millions of thoughts flew through my mind as I listened to
them. I was angry that they couldn't
have done it somewhere else. I was
jealous that I was lying there listening.
I was embarrassed to be awake.
And I was enthralled. Listening
to Trowa's low moans turned me on.
I loved his small grunts, but it drove me crazy to imagine
him pounding into her, her legs wrapped around his waist and arms locked around
his neck. Every little gasp made me
wish that I were the one running my tongue over his body.
The bed shook with their motions—I could hear the
headboard occasionally striking the wall.
The music stopped, magnifying the sounds of their panting and her
fingernails raking against the wall as she reached out to grasp something while
he drove her to the brink of ecstasy.
I lay awake, fascinated and appalled and so aroused that I
wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and conjure his image as I jerked
off. But every time I reached for the
drawstrings of my pajamas, I'd hear her giggle or moan, and my fantasy would
come to a crashing halt.
She came first.
She began to cry out, but her voice became muffled; I guess he kissed
her to keep her from getting too loud.
Trowa followed shortly after, with the most erotic groan I'd ever heard
in my life.
I don't know how long they lay there, catching their
breaths. I imagined them snuggling, or
maybe flopped back on the pillows, hardly touching. I wondered if perhaps he was still inside her, gazing down at her
possessively.
I drifted in and out of sleep after that. I woke up once while she was dressing and
thanking him for "the fantastic evening." I wondered if they were going to call each other, if he would
ever tell her about Cathrine. Or was
this just a meaningless screw for both of them? I hadn't thought Trowa to be like that, but apparently I was
quite mistaken.
Trowa, now clad in his boxers, walked her to the hall and
probably down to the door. I was asleep
before he returned.
***
The wrestling matches had begun a month into the school
year. During our study session one late
September afternoon, Duo and Wufei decided the best way to settle their
frequent disagreements was to tackle one another. It came out of the blue—one minute we were studying in the
lounge, the next, Duo had Wufei pinned and Zechs was hooting with
laughter. It began a competition of
sorts: Wufei's pride was injured, I think, so he ended up calling a rematch. I did my best to stay out of it. The last thing I needed was another weakness
they could tease me about.
But inevitably, I was drawn in. By Trowa.
It was the Sunday after the OZ party. I hadn't said anything to Trowa, since no
good could come out of me admitting that I'd listened to him having sex. The memory still left me a little uneasy and
more than a little turned on. I avoided
him all Saturday, but it was impossible to avoid anyone all weekend—especially
him, considering that we almost always spent weekends in each other's company. I was studying Psychology, and he was
antsy. He didn't want to study at
all. Zechs, Duo, and some of their
friends were talking about the away football game the day before, where someone
had mowed our school's team name—the Predatory Pacifists—into the field. It was almost certainly a hazing ritual for
some pathetic OZ pledge, though Zechs would neither confirm nor deny it. The fellows were talking loudly, trying to figure
out who the poor guy was, and it was nearly impossible to concentrate on my
homework.
"Quatre," Trowa said with a rough nudge to the
ribs. "How much you wanna bet I
can pin Heero in less than a minute?"
I rolled my eyes, jotting a note in the margin of my
textbook. "I doubt
that." Heero was the only one who was
undefeated.
Trowa said nothing, instead drumming on his books with his
pencils.
"Can you stop that?" Heero asked with a pointed glare. "Some of us do have to
study around here."
With a snort, Trowa flipped a pencil at Heero and decided
to take a crack at his books. After a
minute he was fidgeting again.
"Will you knock it off?" I finally yelled,
slamming my book shut. I didn't know if
it was his ornery mood that annoyed me, or if I was just sick of having him
constantly on my mind.
He stared blankly at me—no doubt surprised by my
outburst. "Make me," he said
stubbornly, rising to his feet.
As soon as I stood, he swept his leg behind mine and
knocked me to the floor; the next thing I knew I was struggling to throw him
off-balance so I'd have a chance to avoid being pinned.
We struggled for a long time, and for a brief moment I
actually had the upper hand, until a shout distracted me.
"I've got it!" Duo hollered from his perch in
the windowsill. He was pointing out the
window at the porch, where Wufei and Sally were talking. "It was Wufei! He was talking about pledging, and he was
gone all night before the game!"
The other guys, agreeing with him, rushed out to the porch to ask Wufei
about it.
Trowa took advantage of my lack of focus to knock me off
of him, flip me over, and pin me by my shoulders. As soon as I was pinned, we both froze. His chest heaved as he panted, his lips curled into a rare, feral
smile. For a moment I wondered if this
was what Sylvia saw, the night of the party.
Had Trowa's eyes had the same light in them, as soon as he'd finished
his wrestling with her?
He leaned forward, licking his dry lips. I held my breath in anticipation,
irrationally thinking that he was going to kiss me.
"I win," he whispered, green eyes flashing with
triumph.
I gave my strangled agreement, trying to push him off of
me. He was straddling my hips; the last
thing I wanted was for him to feel how hard I'd become. My face burned with mortification, and I was
grateful that most of the other guys—at least, the ones who would've been
interested in the wrestling match—had left the room, forgetting us entirely.
Trowa moved to get off of me, but then paused. His eyes widened slightly.
He knew.
"Sorry," he muttered, his face flushed. He jumped off of me and quickly went back to
his seat on the couch, pulling his notebook into his lap and opening his
textbook to study.
I sat down at the table, thankful to be away from
him. I was sweating furiously, and
trying to control my breathing. I
buried myself in my books, but looked up several minutes later only to find him
staring at me. He hid behind his hair,
smiling awkwardly, and then turned away.
Continued in Autumn: 04