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A Picture is Not Worth a Thousand Words	By : Maureen Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 690 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
A Picture is Not Worth A Thousand Words pt.3





As
Hilde predicted the work was mind-numbingly easy, and she had been right about
the fondling, as well. The days passed in a whirl of costume changes, the
clothes ranging from sophisticated to outrageously revealing. Late each night,
Hilde would escort him back to the hotel, past Trowa's solidly closed door, to
his own solitary room. Quatre began to despair of ever seeing the handsome
photographer again, but on the fourth morning, Hilde informed him they were to
meet by 10 am at Versailles.

"Oh,
I've always wanted to go there! Do you think maybe Trowa and I will have a
little time to walk around, or do I have more things scheduled for after?"
Quatre was so excited at the prospect of finally spending some time with Trowa
that he could barely sit still as she fussed with his hair.

"You
don't have anything else on for today." She answered with a small frown.
"Did you know Trowa before you worked with him or something?"

"I
never met him before the day he walked into the store and took those first
pictures, why?"

Hilde
sighed, then asked, "You like him, don't you?" She meet his eyes in
the mirror he sat in front of, "You don't have to answer, it's written all
over your face in blushing pink� listen Cat, there's something that you really
should know about Trowa�" she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

It
was Cathy, there to hurry them along under threat of Trowa's wrath. Although
Quatre wondered what Hilde had been about to tell him, she was far too
distracted by discussion of costumes and set up to talk to him any further. When
they arrived at their destination, Quatre barely had time to survey the famous
landmark before he was hustled into a small makeshift tent to change. "Here
ya go, sweetie!" Hilde called out as she handed him a small bundle and
turned to leave.

"Where's
the rest of it?" Quatre asked, holding what looked to be a sheet in one
hand and a laurel wreath in the other.

"That's
all of it � the backdrop for this set of pictures is the Colonnade � that
big circle of marble pillars we just passed." Quatre still looked more than
puzzled, so Hilde helped him strip and wrapped the cloth around him like a toga.
"You're supposed to look all mythical and stuff, like a Greek god� hold
still now�" she carefully arranged the leafy circlet on his head.
"And you do! Boy, I'm glad he decided to go with this instead of what the
ad people wanted � they were going to stick you in a big pair of poofy white
wings and have him take pictures of you in cathedrals � Trowa said it was way
too clich�." The outfit was finished with a pair of sandals that laced up
to his knees and Hilde escorted him out to where Trowa waited.

Quatre's
heart leapt at the first sight of Trowa, bent over and searching through a
camera bag. But when Trowa turned to face him, his heart stretched in a
different direction. Trowa looked haggard, as if he had not slept since Quatre
had seen him last. "What's wrong, are you alright?" he asked as his
outfit was inspected and Trowa tugged at some of the folds.

"I'm
fine, let's just get this done." Trowa answered in a brusque tone and
turned his attention away.

Hurt
and some what confused, Quatre wandered off, drifting from one variegated pillar
to the next. He leaned back against one, wistfully wondering what he had done
wrong. //I thought he liked me� he kissed me� but maybe to him that's
nothing�// Not paying attention to his surroundings, he drifted through the
circular courtyard, occasionally drawing a hand across the cool marble, and
other times just staring into the wide blue sky as if he might find an answer
there. He was so caught up in his confusion that he failed to notice the crew
taking down lights, packing up, and moving away.

Finally,
Hilde called out, "Hey, we're done, you can stop posing now!"

"Huh?"

"Trowa
said you nailed just what he was looking for � he's been done and gone for
over a half an hour now. Get out of those duds and we'll do your
sightseeing!" Hilde stayed with him for the rest of the afternoon, oohing
and aahing over every detail he pointed out and distracting him from his
depression.

Quatre
had forgotten their early morning conversation until they returned to the hotel
for the night and walked by Trowa's door. "Hilde, what were you going to
tell me about Trowa earlier?" He asked as they entered his suite.

"Well,
it's just that you seemed to be crushing on him and all, and being new to the
business, you probably wouldn't know�" Hilde fidgeted uncomfortably and
left the couch they were lounging on to raid the honor bar. "You want a
beer, or something harder?"

"I
don't drink � it goes straight to my head. Besides, I can't stand the taste of
the stuff." Quatre tried to glower at Hilde, but instead only reduced her
to giggles. "Now sit back down and finish telling me!"

"Oh,
alright, but I hate to break your heart." She took a deep swig of the
German beer she had selected. "Trowa doesn't ever, under any circumstances,
ever date models. Never."

Quatre
considered this a moment, "But he asked me out when we first met�"

"Well,
then he must not have intended to ever use you in a shoot again." She
polished off the beer and grabbed another. "Maybe there is some truth to
the rumors I've been hearing�"

"What
rumors?"

"People
have been saying that he fought tooth and nail to keep the agency from offering
you any work. From what I hear, it got so nasty that they told him he'd be fired
and never work in fashion again unless he convinced you to pose�" Hilde
studied his face carefully. "It makes sense, now. If he was interested in
you, he wouldn't want you to be a model. He thinks they're all vain and self-
involved, and for the most part, he's right. Plus, he doesn't want to be accused
of favoritism or selling his influence for sex." She laughed, "Yep, it
all makes perfect sense � I've worked with Trowa before and he's never been
such an asshole. He's generally a pretty easy going guy to work around. He must
really have it bad for you!"

"But
I never even wanted to be a model�" Quatre protested weakly.

"Poor
kid! Listen, Cathy and I are going out dancing tonight, wanna come with? A
little bootie shaking and shameless flirting'll cheer you right up!" Quatre
numbly shook his head. "No? Are you sure? Alright then sweetie, see you
around 3 tomorrow then."

After
aimlessly channel-surfing through French TV for awhile, Quatre went to bed and
proceeded to stare at the ceiling for most of the night. //If I just quit, maybe
we could still be together� he was interested. But Hilde said he'd lose his
job, and I couldn't do that to Trowa�// His thoughts cycled repetitively and
offered him neither solution nor comfort, and dismayed and dejected, he slowly
drifted off to sleep at dawn.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The
next afternoon found Quatre dressed in finery he paid little attention to and in
front of one of Paris's many art deco metro stations. He stayed out of the way
as the crew finished the lighting preparations and set up, and eventually Trowa
turned expectantly towards him. "What do you want me to do?" Quatre
asked, meaning it in more than one way.

Trowa
answered the question that Quatre truly didn't care about, "I want you to
look very sad for this one � here," He hand over a large bouquet of
roses. "You've come to the station, intent on stopping the only person
you'll ever truly love from leaving your life forever, but she�"

"He,"
corrected Quatre miserably.

"Well,
yes, `he', " Trowa continued, "Anyway, you've caught up with this
person, and shared what was positively the best kiss of your life, but he's
still leaving� "

"I
couldn't possibly project that, " Quatre interrupted, "I'm not an
actor or a model!"

"You
are a model, and destined to be one of the best� what is it you need to show
me what I want?" Trowa stroked Quatre's cheek absently with the knuckles of
one hand.

Quatre's
inner masochist answered for him, "Give me the kiss."

Trowa
cupped his cheek as though Quatre's face were made of the finest paper-thin
porcelain and slowly moved in. His lips were as firm and soft as Quatre had
remembered, but this kiss had none of the hurried flavor of those they had
previously shared. Trowa's warm mouth made love to him, caressing him slowly and
building a raging fire of longing and desperate need deep within his very
essence. The feeling coursed through him, igniting every nerve ending. Their
souls twined as their tongues met and joined in a dance of bittersweet bliss,
sharing a moment all too brief before Trowa slowly pulled away. "That was
the last kiss you'll ever get from the person who loves you best," he
breathed in Quatre's ear as he stepped back, the tips of his fingers trailing
off of Quatre's face in obvious reluctance.

The
shutter had barely clicked twice before the roses dropped from Quatre's numb
fingers as he disintegrated into hopeless tears.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~*~*~*~*~

"Gah!
You're lucky you don't have anything else scheduled today! Will you stop
crying?" Hilde had rescued him from the curious onlookers and he now sat
ensconced between her and Cathy at a small table in a nearby caf�. "Funny,
you don't seem like the type to burst into spontaneous tears."

"'m
not, I haven't cried in years," Quatre sniffled into the fistful of napkins
Cathy provided. //Haven't cried since I got my first rejection letter� never
could handle rejection// "I'm sorry, did I ruin the pictures?"

"No,"
Cathy assured him quietly as she slowly rubbed his back. "Trowa said he got
just what he needed before you�"

"At
least someone's getting what they want." He pouted as Hilde rolled her
eyes.

"Enough
with this soap opera crap � you are going to out with us tonight! Let's
go!" Hilde dragged them both from the caf�; she was a woman with a
mission.

The
pair spent the afternoon dressing him up like an overgrown doll, rummaging
through the designer-sent clothes that had steadily accumulated in Quatre's
room. This outfit was too skimpy, that one too demure, or fancy, or plain�
Finally, they settled on a clinging shirt of sheer midnight blue silk and a pair
of plain but serviceable steel gray leather pants, which were cut low on his
hips. "I can't go in public like this!" Quatre was desperately trying
to both cover his chest and fend off Hilde's eyeliner wielding hand. "You
can see right through this shirt, I'm practically naked!"

"That's
the point, sweetie. Now hold still before I poke your eye out � you're going
to need a little definition. The clubs are generally pretty dark�" Hilde
stuck her tongue out in concentration as she careful lined his eyes in dark
gray. "Perfect! What do you think, Cath?" she called over her shoulder
to Cathy who had just re- entered the room, burdened with a large pile of her
and Hilde's combined clothing.

"Are
you really gay, Quatre? Cause if so, all I have to say is *damn*!" Hilde
snickered at this, and Cathy whirled on her, then joined the laughter.
"It's not fair, and you know it � even with your expert make-up job and
our skimpiest clothes, we're going to be no match for him tonight!"

Twenty
minutes later, Quatre said, "I have a bad feeling about this!" but
they ignored him and yanked him out the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At
well past 3 am, both Cathy and Hilde were doing their best to keep the once
inhibited Quatre quiet and upright until they reached his room. "How was I
to know that he really meant it when he said he couldn't handle booze?" An
obviously inebriated Hilde whispered very loudly for about the twentieth time,
right outside Trowa's door.

"Well,
you didn't have to keep feeding him drinks after the first two�" Cathy
was equally tipsy but far more in control.

Between
them, Quatre swayed and sniggered to himself occasionally. He looked around
blearily for a moment and then smiled up at them, "What ish it about thes'
things, anyway?"

"What
things, Quatre-honey?" Hilde's whisper was progressing towards a shout.

"These�"
Quatre maneuvered around to grab a large handful of each of their breasts.
"Don't see wha's so special," he continued to knead absentmindedly.
"Kinda squishy and yuckity it you ash me�"

"Nobody
asked you!" Cathy almost yelled, knocking his hand away. Quatre lost his
balance and fell with a hollow bang against Trowa's door. The trio giggled
helplessly as the door swung open and Quatre tipped over straight in Trowa's
bare chest.

"Now
this ish more like it!" Quatre exclaimed as he nuzzled against the smooth
expanse. "So round, so firm, so fully packed! Mmmm�" He peered up at
Trowa through thin slits of eyes, "You gonna walk a mile for a Camel, or
are you gonna make like Mr. Chesterfield and satisfy�"

"What
are you talking about, Quatre?" Hilde was well past the realm of quiet now.

"They're
old cigarette slogans� `cause Trowa's smokin'!" Quatre sniggered and sent
his hands to find out if the back handholds were just as toned as the front.

Trowa
jumped a little as Quatre goosed him, but otherwise maintained a bland
expression. "If you write like that, I know why you've never been
published." Quatre trembled his lip up at Trowa, who sighed, "What the
hell happened to him?"

"Cath
gave him 5 Screaming Orgasms in a row." Hilde tattled.

"It
was your idea to take him drinking in the first place!" Cathy countered.
"And you slipped him more than one Sex on the Beach�"

"I
never had a screaming orgasm before," Quatre confided solemnly with large
eyes. "It was goooood!"

"Hilde,
I don't feel so good � could you help me back to our room? I'm sure that Trowa
here can take good care of Quatre." Cathy winked in what was supposed to be
a covert manner. Trowa simply rolled his eyes at the display. The two women
slunk away not so silently, Hilde wailing something that sounded suspiciously
like `but I wanna watch!' before they disappeared from view and eventually from
earshot.

Trowa
looked down at Quatre who was still quite happily squirming against him.
"Where's you're key, let's get you into your room and in bed."

"Bed?
Thought you'd never ask! Think the key's in my pocket� can you check� I can'
stand�" Trowa hesitated for a moment and then frisked Quatre briskly.

"It's
definitely not in your pockets � these pants are so tight I think I could feel
lint through them." Trowa looked down at Quatre who continued to absently
feel him up and down. "Alright, you can sleep in here tonight."

"Goody!"
Quatre tried to follow Trowa into the room but drooped against his retreating
back. Trowa turned and caught him before he could slide to the floor, his
patience clearly gone. However, his frown softened as Quatre faintly apologized.

"Just
don't turn into a blubbering drunk on me� I can't stand it when people start
loudly declaring their love for me in between vomiting sessions�" He
carefully picked Quatre up and carried him to the bed, where he began the
intensive process of peeling the sweat- slicked leather from his legs.

Quatre
remained silent as his pants were removed, and then sat up lopsidedly to help
take off his shirt. Finally, after Trowa had jammed a t-shirt over his head,
Quatre said in a very small voice, "But I do love you."

"You
don't know what your saying now � do you have to throw up or can we just go to
sleep?"

"I
do know what I'm saying, and I do love you. Why have you been so mean to
me?" Some small part of Quatre was screaming for him to stop, but he had to
know.

Trowa
sat down next to him and pushed Quatre's bangs back. "Listen, I have
feelings�" He exhaled harshly and continued. "I never mix business
with pleasure � and when you became business� well, honestly Quatre, which
would you have rather had, a date with me or the money?"

"You."
Quatre answered without hesitation.

"You're
drunk and you're not thinking. Now stop that!" Trowa removed Quatre hand
from his thigh, "That's a lot of cash to give up for�"

"Bastard!"
Quatre was immediately indignant, anger burning away some of the liquor from his
voice. "You never gave me the choice! And even if you don't believe me, I
would have chosen you."

"Quatre,
you're right, I don't believe you."

"Just
because money's more important to you doesn't mean I think that way! I was happy
before� do you think I'm happy now?" Quatre shook his head violently.
"Money won't do a thing for me but pay off my bills faster� and who
really cares about that?"

"Quatre,"
Trowa's voice began to rise, "Money is not the focus of my life � I
thought I was doing you a favor!"

"Well
you were wrong!" Quatre shouted back. A irate pounding came from the room
next door and they both fell silent. Trowa reached for him, but Quatre jerked
away and whispered fiercely, "I want you so badly I can barely stand to
look at you, so don't touch me unless you mean it."

"Quatre,
I have to remain professional with you." Obvious regret tinged Trowa's
voice.

"No
you don't, because I quit."

"Really?"
Trowa searched Quatre's eyes for several long moments, "If you still feel
that way in the morning�"

"I
will, so make love to me tonight!" Quatre launched himself at Trowa, the
momentum carrying them both flat to the bed. He moved to straddle the taller man
and was pushed firmly flat on the mattress instead.

"Not
tonight, I also don't make a habit of sleeping with drunks." Trowa fought
Quatre off and rose to turn off the lights. He returned to the bed and tucked an
already softly snoring Quatre carefully in before settling on the couch to wait
for the coming day.

~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

//Oh
God, what died in my mouth? And who used my head for a bowling ball?// Quatre
groaned and tried to sit up, but the effort proved too much. He experimentally
cracked one eye when he heard a soft chuckle coming from his side.

Trowa
was kneeling next to him with a glass of water. "Here, you'll need
this." And he dropped two aspirin into Quatre's hand, "And these. I
should kick myself for not thinking to make you take a few last night. But, then
again, I was a bit distracted�" The words trailed off into the gentle
laughter again. Trowa helped Quatre prop himself up to drink the water and
swallow the aspirin. "How are you feeling? Other than like crap?"

"Oh,
crap pretty well covers it." Quatre flopped bonelessly back down to the
mattress. "What do mean, distracted? I was drunk, what did I do?"
//Probably humped his leg like a poodle in heat�//

"We
talked a little. You gave me some things to think about." Trowa stared
intently at him. "Did you mean what you said? Do you even remember what you
said?" He finished with a bitter laugh.

Quatre
considered for a moment. //Money� sex.. oh God, I did hump his leg� and
love� love// "I told you I loved you." Quatre thought he saw hope
flicker over the edge of Trowa's features, but it faded too quickly for him to
be sure. He steeled himself for rejection. "I do love you."

Trowa
blinked at him once, then twice. A smile took over his face at glacial speed and
he moved in to kiss Quatre.

"Oh,
no you don't! Don't you dare kiss me now, Trowa Barton!" That wonderful
smile started to fade, so Quatre hastened to add, "Not when there are dead
cats in my mouth!" Trowa kissed his cheek instead and hauled him out of the
bed.

"You
can use my toothbrush. And you'd probably like a shower." Quatre nodded.
"Care for company?" Quatre nodded even harder.

"You
were right, about money. What you said made me realize � I haven't been happy
in quite a long time. So I'm quitting the business. You can still model, if you
want." Trowa said from the doorway as he watched Quatre brush.

"I
do not want � the only person I ever want to take my picture is you. We'll get
by somehow." Quatre carefully placed the brush back down on the sink.
"That is if you want to� I mean, I'm kind of assuming�"

"No,
you're not. And yes, we will get by, just fine. One more thing, Quatre
Winner." Trowa came up behind him and held Quatre's eye in the mirror.
"I love you. " and turned him for a belated good morning kiss. The
minty toothpaste lingering in Quatre's mouth complemented the sweet taste of
Trowa's, and after a few minutes, neither could tell where his own lips began
and ended. Trowa's hands had been busy, Quatre found himself quite naked in the
other man's arms. "Beautiful�" was the appraisal, and "Shower,
now," was the demand.

The
hot spray set the nerve endings on Quatre back to singing, and Trowa's hard body
similarly affected his front. He was pushed against the wall and their hungry
mouths met once more; the water flowing over their faces, shunted aside by their
joined lips. Quatre whimpered as he was pulled flush against Trowa's lusciously
hard body, and he set his hands to learning every ripple and ridge of the broad
back under them. Trowa broke away from the kiss to suckle his way down Quatre's
neck and across his chest. He lapped at the rivulets streaming between Quatre's
nipples before drawing the peaks in with exquisitely hard pressure. The spray
teased the sensitized flesh as Trowa turned his attention from side to side. His
hands slid down Quatre slick back to knead at his buttocks, the grip stopping
just short of painful.

"Oh
yes!" Quatre growled and shoved Trowa against the opposite wall to return
the attention. Trowa's chest proved deliciously sensitive and he squirmed under
Quatre's investigative tongue, his moans echoing off of the stall walls.

"You're
very good with your tongue," He panted and Quatre sank to his knees to
prove just how far his lingual talents extended. Trowa was incredibly hard and
beautifully proportioned; Quatre could not help but hum his appreciation as he
lavished his new lover with every trick he knew. He felt frantic hands bury
themselves in his hair and he had to look up at the gorgeous sight of Trowa,
weak- kneed and thrashing against the wall. "Stop, stop!" he pleaded.
"It's too soon to end�" Quatre gave one last twist of his tongue and
then slid up Trowa's lean form and into his strong embrace.

"But
you taste so good!" He turned and placed his outstretched arms on the
shower wall, looking back over his shoulder with a wicked grin, "Is this
what you want?"

"Yes!"
Trowa growled as he covered Quatre from behind, "But turn around. I want to
see you, I want to watch your face while I'm buried deep inside�" He
flipped Quatre around and lifted him against the wall. "Do you know how
crazy this has all made me? I haven't been able to think of anything but you
since the day we met.. what it would be like to touch you," Trowa ran his
hand over Quatre's back and then down his thighs, and lifted them to wrap around
his own waist. "To make love to you� " He rocked with deliberate
slowness against Quatre, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other braced
against the wall. "To always be by your side." Trowa buried his face
in the crook of Quatre's neck and breathed, "It's been hell, to be so close
to you � I've been such a fool." Quatre reached down between them to help
Trowa find the proper angle and then slowly lowered himself with a strangled
hiss.

The
feeling of being split, entered, taken was always most intense, most
overpowering on the first thrust. Quatre struggled not to relax his muscles,
wanting the moment to last as long as possible. Finally, he had taken Trowa
totally in and could not repress the joyful cry that bounced back off the tile
walls. Trowa began a cycle of relentless thorough lunges and locked eyes with
Quatre, murmuring "I love you" over and over again as he pushed deeper
and deeper within. Quatre felt himself falling into those incredibly green eyes,
taking in Trowa's soul as he took in his body. //This, there is no more perfect
feeling than this� I have never truly made love before now�// and then all
conscious thought was swept away and the only things that remained were the feel
of Trowa all around him, deep within him and the welcoming light of those
wonderful eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

Six
months later, Rashid's new assistant, Abdul, called him to the front of the
store. "What is this?" He asked, gesturing to the box of books he had
just opened on the counter. "I thought you didn't sell anything new."

The
box was filled with a stack of large, coffee-table books. "'Poised on the
Brink: Walking on the Edge of Extinction'?" Rashid mused to himself as he
lifted one. A striding tiger adorned the front cover, and he almost choked with
laughter as he turned it over and saw the photo on the back. A slip of paper
freed itself from inside the front cover and drifted to the floor.

Abdul
caught it and read, "'Rashid � I know you usually don't sell anything
under a hundred years old, but I thought you might make an exception in this
case.' There's no signature, just a big smiley face, and a P.S. `Plus, they're
all signed by the authors!'" Abdul looked at his red-faced employer,
"Care to fill me in on the joke?"

Rashid
only tapped the back cover photo with a proud smile. In it, a tall brunet with
face-obscuring bangs had his arms wrapped around a smaller, contented looking
blonde.
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A Picture is Not Worth a Thousand Words