After the Dance

DISCLAIMER: same disclaimer as chapter one. Basically - I don't own so don't sue.

Special thanks to:
My beta reader, Elesiel, for editing and terrific suggestions.
And to my brother, Alex, for general support.

Chapter 2

Trowa Barton anxiously paced the immaculate living room of Quatre’s spacious apartment. While asking the handsome blonde to be his husband seemed like the natural thing to do, Trowa couldn’t help but wonder what reaction he would get.

Same sex marriages weren’t uncommon on this colony, but negative feelings toward those that didn’t follow the norm remained. It was even possible that such a relationship could cost Winner Corp thousands - perhaps millions - of dollars if enough ire resulted from the CEO marrying another man.

Aside from the business end of it, Trowa didn’t know if Quatre loved him enough to get married. The two of them never spoke of emotions; it was enough just to be together.

Their relationship had noticeably evolved. While they were piloting their Gundams and trying to save the colonies, Trowa and Quatre had worked side-by-side many times. They’d guarded each other’s backs and filled in weaknesses.

After the war ended, it had seemed natural for Trowa to join Quatre once again. Working so closely with people hadn’t been something Trowa thought he would be able to do and, being in the Public Relations department of Winner Corp, he’d had no choice in the matter. He soon discovered that he had a sense for the job and excelled at it, however.

While some things had changed, others remained the same. He and Quatre were still close; they worked long hours and there were many nights that Trowa shared the blonde’s bed instead of making the short journey to his own empty apartment. Because Quatre owned it, he did live in the same building - just like several other company employees.

Becoming lovers had also evolved slowly. At first, they had held hands, kissed each other gently and hugged frequently. Things progressed from there.

Trowa stopped his pacing in front of the large living room window. It looked out over a small park twenty-seven floors below. Since the sky was darkening, lampposts around the perimeter of the grassy area were turning on.

He shook his head slowly. Even though the colony had no moon, stars or sun, there was still night and day. People conquered outer space, making new places to live, but some elements couldn’t be left on the Earth alone. Trowa guessed that it did make some sense; people are supposed to sleep at night and work during the day. (Except for the odd ones that did just the opposite.) They were used to certain things and, when they created the colonies, adapted the structures accordingly.

He sighed, feeling wistful. Trowa had enjoyed the time he’d spent on the Earth and had many fond memories of it. He missed seeing the glorious sunrises, magnificent sunsets and lying on his back at night looking at the constellations. But most of all, he missed the ordinary people he’d met; the ones who just wanted to live peacefully without the threat of war.

The reflective mood vanished as Trowa’s mind wandered to Catherine. Instead, he began to chuckle. She still treated him like a younger brother and soon he would be an uncle. Her time to deliver was almost upon her. Trowa knew she would make a wonderful mother, but he did have a problem envisioning Wufei as a “papa-type” person.

The Chinese man had repeatedly invited himself along when Trowa would return to the circus following a mission. Even after the war ended, Wufei would often show up. It wasn’t long before Trowa noticed how those sharp, dark eyes would track Catherine. Then Wufei began bringing her small gifts – flowers, candy, jewelry, wrapped boxes … and stuffed animals.

Trowa chuckled louder, remembering the time he had fought to keep a straight face when the serious Shenlong pilot had shown up carrying a pink bunny as big as he was. One pointed look from Wufei had kept him from making any comment, but he had returned to his own trailer quickly to avoid laughing in his friend’s face.

When Wufei began courting Catherine in earnest, Trowa couldn’t have been happier. After three years, he finally asked her to be his bride. Both Heero and Quatre had been shocked at the news, wondering if the two of them were really right for each other. Trowa, who had seen them together, thought it was a perfect match and quickly reassured his friends.

The couple had decided on a small church wedding. Wufei’s family, people from the circus, Quatre and Heero had been invited to the small ceremony. Trowa was Best Man.

Duo Maxwell hadn’t been invited. When the three other pilots confronted Wufei about this, his reply had been that he didn’t want “some damn idiot” ruining his wedding. The discussion had ended there.

Trowa frowned for a second, wondering what Wufei would do about his job with the Preventors. Maybe he’d decide to follow Zechs’ example. The blonde colonel had taken a desk job right after the birth of his first child: he hadn’t wanted his son to grow up without a father.

Shortly after joining the Preventors, Zechs had changed his name. While he liked his surname, he preferred his chosen moniker to the one he’d been given at birth. “Zechs Peacecraft” was the name he’d asked Lucrezia Noin to share with him. That wedding had been even smaller than Wufei’s and took place two years before it as well. Only Trowa, Heero, Relena and Quatre were there to stand with the couple and act as witnesses.

Trowa’s thoughts turned back to the love of his life. Quatre’s conference had lasted a week. It was the longest time they had been apart these past several years. He felt eager to see him and to ask the question that would shape the future for both of them. Perhaps there would be another wedding.


X----X----X----X----X


Quatre Raberba Winner stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse before turning to watch the chauffeured car leave the underground parking garage. The door slowly slid closed, leaving Quatre alone for the first time all week. He sighed and shifted his shoulders to relieve some of the tension in them.

Being President of a major multi-colony corporation sometimes had its drawbacks. His bodyguards insisted on going everywhere with him to prevent kidnapping or worse. At the same time, Quatre wanted “me” time without being watched every second. He felt grateful for the building he lived in – with all the security; there was no need for his protectors.

He sat his briefcase down next to his luggage and raised his clasped hands over his head to stretch his back. The muscles pulled, his shoulders popped and Quatre felt much better. Maybe he could get Trowa to give him a massage tonight; Quatre knew he was waiting for him. When the elevator opened, he pulled his bags into the small hallway leading to his apartment. He put his hand on the print scanner mounted next to his door. After the computer verified his identity, the locks clicked and Quatre entered his home. He stopped short and stared.

All the candles in the living room were burning and, on the other side of the room, the dining table ones were also lit. The entire room was imbued with a soft glow and light instrumental music added to the peaceful atmosphere.

Trowa stepped out of the kitchen with a smile on his face. Quatre ran to him, kissing and hugging him with all the passion he’d stored up while being away. Trowa kissed him back, and then disentangled himself.

“Take your coat off and have a seat. Supper is ready.”

Quatre nodded and removed his jacket as Trowa returned to the kitchen. Instead of just dropping the covering on the floor like he wanted to, Quatre hung it in the closet. That was the only problem with not having a member of the Maguanacs living there; no one would pick up after him.

He returned to the table and took his seat. A large salad and dinner rolls waited along with service for two. Quatre shook his head. Trowa always went to the trouble of making supper for him, but something else was happening here. A lot of effort had been placed into this.

He looked up as Trowa brought out a covered serving platter and sat it on the table. Quatre gasped as the lid was lifted: beef stroganoff, his favorite. Trowa served up supper, taking his seat next to Quatre once their plates were full.

The food tasted delicious. Quatre spoke of the conference, Trowa talked about work. A few things had happened while he was away, stuff he would need to take care of. Quatre nodded and made a mental note of what he would have to handle first thing Monday morning.

After Quatre’s plate was empty and he felt sated, Trowa slid from his chair and went to one knee beside the blonde. With one trembling hand, he reached for Quatre’s. Quatre stared at him in amazement. Is this what I think it is?

Looking into his lover’s eyes, he spoke. “My dearest love, I only feel right when I am with you. You mean everything to me and I never want to lose you. You are my heart, my soul, and my reason for breathing. You are my love. Will you please do me the honor of becoming my husband, wearing my ring for all the worlds to see?”

Quatre couldn’t see Trowa through the tears in his eyes. He tried to speak, but could only whisper his response. Then, with a wail, he threw his arms around the other man and began kissing him in earnest. Trowa pushed him back slightly.

“Was that a ‘yes’?”

Quatre answered quickly, “Yes, oh yes. I want to be your husband. Now kiss me, dammit!”

Trowa obeyed. Their lips pressed together with tongues mingling, joining and thrusting against each other. Quatre’s eyes were closed, but he could feel tears leaking out from between his lashes. He was amazed that such a wonderful man would want to share the rest of his life with him. He vowed to never hurt Trowa in any way. His tears lent a bittersweet saltiness to the kiss.

Trowa pulled away slowly and reached into the pocket of his pants. When he extracted it, his hand held a small oblong box. He opened it and then turned the box so Quatre could see inside. Nestled in the black velvet interior was a ring with a gold band and a square-cut blue topaz that matched Quatre’s eyes perfectly. Although the ring looked fragile enough for his delicate hand, there remained masculinity about it.

Quatre felt frozen in place; he could only stare at the ring and not bring himself to take it from its resting place. Trowa smiled softly and pulled the ring out. He reached once again for Quatre’s left hand and, this time, he slid the ring on its proper finger.

Quatre threw his arms around Trowa’s neck and started kissing him again in earnest. He slid onto the floor and pressed his entire body against his lover. He moaned deep in his throat as he felt the heat rising between the two of them.

This time, Quatre broke the kiss. He rose to his feet, took one of Trowa’s hands into his own and guided his lover up as well. After stealing one last kiss, be began guiding Trowa down the hall to the bedroom.

Trowa resisted slightly, murmuring something about the dishes. Quatre laid his fingertips against Trowa’s mouth and whispered seductively, “Shh … they can wait until morning.”

There were no more protests from the tall brunette as they continued.
Instead, he grabbed Quatre by the shoulders and kissed him passionately. Their bodies collided with the hallway wall. One of Quatre’s arms flailed out for purchase and knocked a picture askew. He responded to the kiss with eagerness and their two bodies bumped into the opposite wall. In their excitement, neither one noticed when they knocked a table over, scattering knickknacks all over the floor.

Quatre moaned as Trowa’s hands went up under his shirt, stroking over his abdominal muscles while his fingers ghosted over Quatre’s nipples. As Trowa moved lower, however, Quatre put a restraining hand on his chest and broke the kiss. He rested his head on Trowa’s shoulder, breathing hard. Finally able to control himself, he whispered softly, “I want our first night as a married couple to be something special, so I would like you to sleep in here until after the wedding.” He nodded toward the guest bedroom door.

Trowa’s eyes were glazed. He stuttered, “Wh-what?”

Quatre used the pleading expression he knew Trowa couldn’t resist. “Please? For me?”

Trowa stared at him for several seconds then finally nodded. “I guess I can do that much for love.”

He opened the door to the vacant room. Quatre squeezed his hand and then headed off to his own bedroom.