Two Sides of a Triangle

Warning: kinda bastardized 03 and 04, don't hate me! lol
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Quatre had a horrible day. Ever since his lunch with Duo yesterday, there was this sick feeling in his stomach. He had neglected their friendship. He only called Duo to speak of his own selfish concerns, and he knew nothing about what was happening in the braided man’s life now because he never asked, never thought about anything except his own personal drama.

It had become such a common thing that Duo simply expected it. He knew it was Barton drama, knew it would be a meal full of Quatre complaining about how helpless and miserable he felt, and Duo came anyways. Duo was a true friend, and Quatre knew he didn’t deserve him the way he’d been lately.

But Quatre resolved to fix it immediately. Right after lunch, well about an hour later, after Quatre had realized how awful he was treating his best friend, he resolved to seek Duo out and apologize. They would have a dinner and movie night, catch up, and repair the patchy relationship.

But Quatre couldn’t find him.

Maybe the characteristically loud pilot managed to find some quiet place, or was in an unofficial meeting for half a day, but not being able to find Duo, nobody knew where he was, not in the break room, or stalking the new recruits for new prank ideas…that meant one thing: Duo was purposely avoiding him.

Quatre tried to deny the logic. Duo and he had been so close for so long…but as the day went on, it was obvious that he didn’t want the blond to find him. And the result was the same all day today, nobody knew where he was.

And his mood went black. He knew he had neglected his friend but he didn’t know it was to that point yet. Duo didn’t want to have anything to do with him, at least temporarily, and Quatre felt pain pierce him to the heart.

He came home from work, went straight to his room, and changed. He put on his favorite blue, silk pajama pants and just threw on his silk lined house-coat. The house-coat, (He refused to call it a robe!), was given to him by his eldest sister on his latest birthday. It was quilted silk with a satin lining that was a mixture of dark blues, purples, and a little green all wrapped around each other like crowded water ripples. It made him feel loved, and though he would never admit aloud, it was like he was being cuddled.

The feel of the cool material slithering across his skin didn’t help as much as he wanted it to, but it was nice to have his comfort clothes around him.

Dinner was a silent affair, with his people around him trying to pull him into a conversation, any conversation, that would make him forget his worries, but he was firmly entrenched. His staff tried, they really did, and he appreciated it, but he just wanted to be left alone to think.

He forced food down his throat at Rashid’s insistence and escaped to his study for solitude, but his staff knew something was really wrong. Abdul brought him coffee. Zuhr offered him any dessert his heart desired.

It didn’t matter; no amount of comfort food would make up for the fact that he had hurt his best friend in such a manner. How had it gotten so bad without him noticing? If Quatre was completely honest with himself, he knew. He had been so focused on what Trowa was thinking and feeling that everyone else had just faded into the background.

Mouth tense in determination, Quatre decided it was time to patch things up with Duo. He still loved Trowa with an intensity that burned through him, but the most immediate concern had to be Duo. Trowa wouldn’t let Quatre anywhere near him, so what else was there to do? He would have to wait. And Duo?

Quatre would hunt him down if it meant sitting on the hood of this truck or haunting his doorstep. He would fix this, no matter what it took.

Feeling a little better that at least a decision about how to start had been made, Quatre decided to go to bed. It was a bit earlier than usual, but he was exhausted mentally, the sleep would do him good.

But as soon as he stepped out of the study, he came face to chest with Rashid. “Master Quatre, you seem troubled. I am always here if you need someone to listen.”

Sighing, Quatre faked a smile. “I know, thank you, Rashid, but I’d really rather just sleep right now. I’m very tired.”

“Yes, Master Quatre.”

Yes, he could pour his heart out to the big man about his neglect of Duo, but he couldn’t actually tell him why he had been so focused elsewhere. Rashid wouldn’t understand his Trowa troubles, at all. In fact, Rashid had been trying to set him up with potential wives for the past few years. He wouldn’t understand, at all, but Quatre hadn’t taken the energy to explain his preferences because the only man he wanted had shown no remote interest in returning his attentions. And, well, Rashid hadn’t really liked Trowa the few times they had met during the wars.

Quatre opened one of the huge double doors that led to his chambers, shut it and just rested his head against the cool wood surface. Alone at last.

“Bad day?”

Quatre whipped around to face the intruder, ready for fight or flight as adrenaline shot through him. He calmed when he saw the familiar stance of Trowa leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, hair hiding his face.

He was beautiful, strong, powerful legs that went on forever, long torso that broadened as the eyes raised, whipcord arms that crossed over a defined chest, slender neck that blossomed into his flawless face. Quatre breathed in deeply, hoping he could catch just the slightest hint of the air that surrounded him. He had it so bad.

Time sped at an enormous rate and Quatre’s blood pounded through his veins again as he realized Trowa was here! His fantasized lover was in his chambers. Modesty forced a fair hand to clutch at the opening of his house-coat, covering his slightly exposed chest before he realized how silly he looked, but he couldn’t unclench the fist that had formed in the fabric for some reason, so it stayed.

He stammered for a foothold in this situation, and the manners of someone of his station kicked in automatically. “If I had known you were coming, I would have instructed the staff to keep dinner warm, but I’m sure they could make arrangements if you’re hungry.”

Trowa shook his head. “If I had wanted my presence here to be public knowledge, I would have come in the front door.”

“Oh. Of course, forgive me.” Quatre felt slapped with the response, and his thoughts went to how much Trowa disliked him. He tapped into his empathy almost reluctantly, expecting the seething mass of negativity Trowa always held while around him, but he found nothing.

Quatre could feel absolutely nothing. It was like he was completely alone in the room. Trowa was being very careful not to let Quatre read him, and the blond felt a little guilty about trying when it was obviously not willingly shared information.

“You never answered my question.” Trowa was not looking at him, Quatre could only see about one fourth of his face, and the rest was just as hidden as his emotions.

“What question?” The blond didn’t remember being asked one in the shock of realizing he wasn’t alone.

“Did you have a bad day?” Trowa spoke slowly as if to a child, and Quatre felt his cheeks heat with a slight blush.

“Its really nothing.” The Winner heir felt his spirits lift at the thought that Trowa cared to ask.

“Tell me.” He dropped his arms to his sides and lifted his head, letting Quatre feel the full force of those eyes, and, all of a sudden, he felt like he was drowning. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look away.

But Trowa did; his eyes flicked to the window a few feet from him then dropped back to the floor, and Quatre could think again. “Umm,” he coughed, stalling, “well, Duo is upset with me. I’ve been trying to make amends, but he is currently avoiding me. Its nothing that need upset you, though. How was your day?”

It was the picture of selfless domestic chatter, and Trowa had to remember to concentrate on what he was here for. But it was so easy to fluster the beautiful blond, pull a blush from those fair cheeks. It was so odd that this child-like man before him was a powerful politician, a feared gundam pilot. He could strike terror in a board room and battlefield alike, but in front of Trowa, he was completely out of his element.

He was too pure, and Trowa relished the power he held over him for a few seconds before forcing himself back to the reason he was here. Quatre wouldn’t like it, but there was no other way. He ignored the question about his day and stayed on his chosen topic. “You know he loves you, right?” Trowa hid the smile that curled his lips as he echoed Duo’s own words against him.

Blue eyes widened as his mouth opened, snapped shut, then opened again. “What?”

“Duo is in love with you.” He repeated calmly, forcing eye contact with Quatre.

“No.” Quatre shook his head. “No, we’re just really good friends. You’re misreading things.” His voice was panicked. Trowa wasn’t stalling any advances because he thought Duo and he were together, was he?! Quatre was filing through memories of what he and Duo’s friendship looked like when portrayed to others.

Was that the reason Trowa hated him so? Did he think Quatre was leading him on only to hook up with Duo?! Oh no. He had to fix this.

“Duo and I are just friends! There’s nothing between us, really.” He was breathing hard, scared and anxious, but he pressed on. “I’ve only ever wanted you, Trowa. I love you.”

Trowa flinched at the words. Knowing someone loves you, and hearing them say it are completely different, and Trowa felt his pulse accelerate in his body, could feel that bounding beat in his stomach, temples, that rush of adrenaline pounding through him. Stars, he wanted to …

But he couldn’t.

It was not the way the conversation was supposed to go, and Trowa had to get him back onto his intended script, had to tip him off balance so he could steer it properly, take the control back. He kept his face as neutral as he could. “That’s really too bad. I had thought there might be a way, but if that’s the case…It just won’t work.”

Trowa pushed himself off the wall and began making his way to the window he had used as an entrance doing his damnedest to ignore the completely stricken look on Quatre’s handsome face.

“Wait! What? What are you talking about?!” Quatre ran several steps toward Trowa, bringing him about twenty feet from the other.

Trowa stopped and turned back towards the distressed man, iron will forcing him to stay completely unaffected, outwardly at least. He could show no evidence of the way he was struggling internally. “Duo loves you, you love me, and I am becoming increasingly infatuated with Duo. I thought there might be a way of bringing us all together, but if you’re set on me or none, it won’t work.” Trowa shrugged.

Quatre’s face was horrified. “You love Duo?” His voice stopped working, and his chest clenched like a fist around his heart.

Trowa remained silent; he had to let Quatre think this way. He could see no other option of this scenario working.

“How? You’ve never spent more than an hour with him! He can’t stand you, and you and I…? How?!” Quatre was grasping for any semblance of sanity in the room, but could find none. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“It’s not something definable, Quatre, and I won’t go into it with you as upset as you are now.” He felt himself breaking, watching the man he loved fall apart in front of him, but Quatre had to believe this. It would be the only way Quatre wouldn’t try to convince him that they didn’t need Duo.

Because they did, and hopefully Quatre would come to realize that eventually, but now he was banking on Quatre’s selflessness. If Quatre thought Trowa would be happiest with Duo involved, Quatre would swallow his own wants and probably try to convince Duo to come into the situation despite 02 already being on board.

Quatre turned away, let his breath leave him in a heavy sigh, regaining some sense of calm. “Was there ever anything between us, or did I just imagine it all?”

Pain shot through Trowa before he could mute the feeling, and he saw Quatre flinch across from him. Damnit! He couldn’t break, but he was doing a lot of damage to the little blond in front of him. He walked forward slowly, trying to give him something, some kind of reassurance. As he neared Quatre’s back, but still an arm’s length from him, he spoke softly. “You’re beautiful, Quatre. I have always been attracted to you.”

Quatre straightened some with the comment as Trowa continued. “But there are too many gaps between you and I that can’t be filled without help. We would never work.”

He spun, and his eyes were watery, the restrained tears magnifying that ocean blue to such proportions. It put Trowa to the test of will versus want. It was so hard not to just crush the man he loved into his arms and tell him everything would be ok. That they could make it, that love would be enough…Such lies.

Because there’s a very thin line between love and hate, and Quatre’s love was so strong. How much would it take to push him past that thin line?

“But it could, Trowa! I can change; I could be whatever you wanted. Please, I just want to be with you.”

Trowa could feel the pieces of his soul grinding against each other within his chest. But the soldier in him won out, had to.

The soldier that was disgusted at the weakness of the man in front of him. The soldier who knew the only way to make this work was through his manipulation of the angel in front of him…

He grasped at the control within himself and felt his face go hard, threatening. “That’s exactly why nothing works between us, Winner. You think I have any interest in this spineless thing in front of me? You were a warrior once. What happened to you?” Trowa felt a sneer form across his mouth and prayed that this haunted, horrified, angelic face in front of him wouldn’t brand itself across his dreams.

But he knew it would.

His voice cracked as he spoke. “I guess I fell for the wrong guy.”

Trowa closed his eyes, trying to swallow how difficult this was, trying to let himself go just soft enough to encourage him, but not soft enough to break. He felt so desperately close to breaking. “There could be great things between us, but not yet.” His hand rose to touch a tear that had spilled down a flushed cheek, but Quatre flinched away. Trowa pulled his hand back as if burned, dying inside.

He had to leave, now, he felt tension squeezing its way from his chest, up into his throat, and there was a full feeling behind his eyes. Trowa turned away quickly, slipped out the window, and vanished into the shadows along the grounds as Quatre ran to the open window for one last look.

But Trowa was already gone, sprinting through the shadows, not caring about the timing of the security cameras. He kept his face down, he wouldn’t be identifiable, but that was the least of his concerns.

He ran. He ran through the chill night wind, feeling the air whip through his eyes and pull at the tears running down his face. He launched himself over the walls encompassing the Winner estate and kept running.

The tension in his chest didn’t lessen as his energy faded, his legs began burning somewhere around two miles from the estate, but he kept running. There was mostly wooded area around the grounds; Quatre had always had an affinity for privacy at home. And Trowa took advantage of it now, racing through the brush, ducking low hanging branches and generally getting himself lost within the cover of nature.

His foot got caught on an exposed root, and he landed hard on his knees, hands coming down to prevent his face from hitting the ground. He stayed like that, letting the moisture on his face slide down and disappear into the dirt. Gasping, heaving sobs choked their way out of his body against his will.

That face was swimming behind his eyes. Quatre’s beautiful face twisted in such awful expressions of hurt and betrayal. He wanted to forget it had happened; he wanted it to go back to the healthy crush it had been at one time. Quatre had taken it too far, he had let his obsession turn his life over, and it was destroying him.

Duo was right, Trowa was killing him. He was trying to repair that now, but was it already too late? Shit, how did he let it go this far? How did he not see what Quatre was turning himself into?

His fist hit the forest floor hard, and kept hitting it, letting his frustrations and pain out on the unfeeling ground.

He wanted…he wanted to remember what it was like, what he let himself feel as he carried Quatre away from Libra after his fencing match with Dorothy. He wanted to allow himself that unencumbered emotion once again, but he feared what would happen. He feared that loss of control; that was what Duo had to help him deal with. He wasn’t used to allowing himself such freedom, was afraid of letting go.

But there was no turning back now; he had set everything in motion. He just hoped his selfish desires to have the one he wanted wouldn’t destroy them all.

After releasing so much he never knew was bottled up inside himself, he felt exhausted, worn thin and threadbare. But he made it back to his car on the outskirts of the grounds somehow and dragged his feet across the threshold of his apartment.

He washed the sticky feeling off his face, brushed his teeth, stripped, and fell into bed, but his dreams would be far from peaceful this night.

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Ok, I know, I kinda bastardized 03 and 04 a bit. Trowa really is a bastard with, hopefully, some redeeming qualities, and I made Quatre a little too...well, I wanted to create a "breaking point" scenario for him. Yeah, I meant to make him obsessive/crazy, and there may bit a bit more coming, I think. Working on it.

As always, review responses will be posted on my authors page, gimme about thirty minutes, tho, my fingers are cramping up. lol

Much love to my readers and bedroom wishes for my reviewers.

A