One Night in Albuquerque:
Part One
By: Kitty E.
You really are an idiot, Quatre thought at his reflection. It was easier to berate the boy in the mirror, though it was still he who felt the sting. He continued mocking the mirror as he brushed his teeth somewhat harshly. Your every fantasy revolves around getting Trowa in bed, and now that you finally done it... he paused mentally as he rinsed his mouth. You have to pretend like you couldn't care less.
With a dejected sigh, he began to wash his face, still dogging his decision to let Trowa share the room. Let? Ha! You jumped at the chance. Baka! Baka! Baka! You forgot all about the fact you have nothing to sleep in but boxers. Bakayarou! As he slapped his face with water he began to justify his actions for the hundredth time. It could have been worse, ne? It could have been noth- iie! Don't even think about it! And it's not like I knew I'd be sharing a room. I *would* have brought something to sleep in anyway, but we were only allowed one carry on bag, and *I* had all the data! I couldn't fit in anything but a change of clothes. He buried his face into the thin hotel towel which felt more like steel wool than terry cloth.
So what are you gonna do now? he asked his reflection. You've taken a forty-five minute shower, combed your hair enough to do Duo proud, brushed your teeth, washed your face, and stared at your reflection asking questions like the idiot you are ... and he's still out there, isn't he? He's still out there ... only in pajama bottoms ... looking sexy, and being mysterious. I can't do this. He tried to adjust his boxers, doing anything he could to feel less exposed, but failing at every attempt. It came down to a choice of what did he wanted concealed the most, his legs, or his stomach.
Nothing's going to happen! he insisted. We're both dead tired, neither of us have slept for 24 hours because of Heero and his fanatical mission itinerary. You'll go out there, hit the pillow, and be knocked unconscious. Right? Right ... so why do I feel so excited? He finally decided it was most important that his legs be covered, and did so. The boxers were slung rather low on his hips, and he wondered if he should reconsider. Just go out there! he practically shouted at himself. You can't sleep in the bathtub. Stop being stupid!
He allowed himself one more dejected sigh, one more once over in the mirror before pushing the door to the bathroom open. Stepping out, Quatre found himself two feet away from the single bed within the room. The single bed they would share tonight, the bed on which Trowa already lay. Quatre stared at the long, slender form before him. I can't do this! he wailed within his mind. Trowa was stretched out across his side of the bed, arms behind his head, and eyes watching the neon lights outside the window. The room was hot, despite the rattling air conditioner. Trowa had pulled back the blanket, and now lay beneath one cursedly thin, white sheet. Stop staring!
Quatre tore his eyes away, and quietly began arranging his clothes out for the coming morning. Is he watching me? NO! No, he is not. Be quiet, baka! Honestly, you know better than that! This is Trowa. Okay, you've got to turn around again... Ah! Turn off the light! Let's see him look sexy in the dark. He fumbled with the switch for a moment, but the room was snapped into darkness soon enough. He turned, and found he'd been thwarted. Trowa lay near the window, his pale skin glowed unnaturally from the neon lights outside, blushing purple, then blue. What's more, he noted with a slight shiver, his one visible green eye was squarely on him.
"Goodnight, Trowa," he said, somewhat impishly. I CAN'T DO THIS! he thought as he slid next to Trowa. He lay stiffly on his back, staring at the ceiling.
"Goodnight," Trowa said, suddenly breaking the silence.
Oh... Quatre reveled, he sounded so close. He dared not look to see how close, he felt Trowa shift, rolling on his side. It felt wrong to resist the urge to press himself against the long curve of Trowa's unclad back. I wonder what he tastes like, he thought idly. The question had come from nowhere, but it quickly took over the whole of his consciousness. He smells like the hotel shampoo ... and oranges. I bet he tastes like citrus, and-Stop it! Stop, stop, stop! If you go to sleep thinking about that you're gonna have a wet dream ... puberty is such a bother.
He's not so sexy, anyway. He's tall, yeah, but what's with the hair? My father does that bang thing ... it's so old ... and sexy. Shut up! Green eyes, so what? What's the matter you've never seen green eyes before? Unfathomable, emerald eyes... Oh, you are pathetic! Here's something, he's got the sexy voice, but he never uses it. Imagine living with him, ha! 'How was your day, sweetie?' (shrug) 'Well, this and this and this happened at the company, isn't that great?' 'Hn.' Real exciting. I bet I could make him moan, though. I bet he sounds really good when he com- SHUT UP!
He rolled onto his side, now facing the wall. Where'd this come from anyway? His mouth twitched as he realized what he'd asked. Quatre, you grew up with twenty-nine sisters. You're *lucky* you came out bisexual. Thirty and you'd be lying here in a black, silk negligee. Ha! Now there's a thought... He sighed deeply, and flipped back onto his back. I've got to get some sleep.
Easier said than done. Quatre stared at the ceiling, watching the play of artificial light and jagged shadows on the ceiling, and deciding it really wasn't more interesting than thinking about Trowa. But I'll never get to sleep if I do! He closed his eyes, and slowed his breathing, trying to think of ... What is it cows? Iie, horses? He spent some time listing farm animals, but was unable to come up with one that sounded right. Goats? Iie... Sheep! Sheep jumping over a fence. His mystery solved he began to count, he had reached thirty-seven by the time he'd realized he was only bored, not sleepy.
Do you even know what you're doing to me? He asked Trowa's sleeping form silently. I bet you do. And you think it's hilarious. You and Duo, it's an inside joke. 'Let's see who can entice innocence the best.' Well, Trowa, you take the cake I've been up for twenty-six hours, and I'm not even tired. He reached over and fumbled for his watch, pressing a button that made the face lit up, showing him it was now midnight. And Heero wants us to leave at six! Allah, help me... Allah apparently wanted nothing to do with it, he let Quatre suffer through another hour of tossing, and turning, of staring at the ceiling, and at the wall. More half tempting, half torturing thoughts crossed Quatre's mind, and around one in the morning he became desperate.
If I could just... he thought abstractly. A more solid, and slightly embarrassing thought came to him, If I could just *take* him, it'd be the end of all this! All this tension would be cleared up, and the physical act itself would wear me out. Voila, four hours of deep sleep. But it's impossible. He'd never ... he doesn't like boys, doesn't like me. Does he? Maybe it's not just wishful thinking. Maybe he's been begging me on his subtle hands and knees for me to do it all along. He smiled, it certainly was a pleasant thought, and in his sleep deprived state it even seemed plausible.
Even if I did, it wouldn't really be right. It would be my first time, maybe his, too. It hardly seems romantic to just roll over and toss my virginity out the window... But then ... I am a Gundam pilot. I could be dead tomorrow, Trowa, too. Iie, I wouldn't allow it. But it does make one think. We might not have much time, much opportunity after tonight. And if I don't get some sleep I could become a danger to the mission. His thoughts were all consuming as he began to work out the rationalizations as to why he had no other choice but to lean over and take Trowa.
What's the worst that could happen? Hmm, he could say no and I'd be in the same boat that I'm now. And we're not really forced to see each other that often, we could avoid each other long enough for any embarrassment to ease away. Even if doesn't like it, he might be flattered ... maybe even intrigued. Or utterly disgusted. But at least then I would know where I stand. I could stop chasing an impossible dream. He rolled over again, this time coming face to face with Trowa who, with eyes closed and face relaxed, looked like an angel in prayer. I really must be insane, but ... this makes sense. I'm going to kiss him, and whatever his reaction is, I'll deal with it afterwards. If he kicks me out, so be it. I could probably get a better night sleep out in the hall, anyway.
He shifted, both to get more comfortable, and to move closer to Trowa. His heart was racing, just the decision, the want, the hope that he would kiss him was enough to make him lightheaded. He took several deep, slow breaths, and asked himself if he really meant to do it. I'm going to count to three, and then I *am* going to do it. One ... two ... three, and ... you're not doing it ...
He looked away, and found the glowing face of his watch staring at him. 1:13 he groaned, looking back towards Trowa. It's 1:13 and I still feel like I could stay up all night if something doesn't happen soon. All right, one more try, all or nothing, winner gets to sleep with Trowa. Onetwothree! Quatre could barely believe his own actions as his hand came up to take hold of Trowa's chin, and his head moved forward to collide with the other's. Their noses bashed together, but not hard enough to abort the kiss. By the time he got to three, he was kissing Trowa. Sugoi ... holy shit, I'm actually kissing Trowa. Absently, Quatre cringed at the expletive, I'm spending too much time listening to Duo.
A second later Trowa seemed to wake, pulling away sharply. Quatre blinked several times, in the subdued lighting he could just barely see the look of astonishment on Trowa's face. At least there's no disgust. There was a slight rustle as Trowa's hand lifted to touch his lips in shock and disbelief. They were so close his fingertips grazed Quatre's cheek, and he caught and held them there. He stole another kiss, this time gently teasing open Trowa's mouth for a long, first taste of the other boy. Quatre waited for another protest, to be pushed away, or told 'no,' but the refusal never came. Sugoi, he thought with a smile Trowa recognized as distinctly feral.
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Part Two