Perigee

by Raletha

Epilogue

The remainder of their vacation passed in a dazzling blur of intimacy restored and the unquenchable desire of their nascent affair. Too soon it was their last evening together on Earth. Quatre was relieved that it would only be another four weeks before he'd see Trowa again. It was four weeks until the circus completed their summer tour and broke for their autumn break.

At that time, Trowa planned to relocate to L4, where he intended to lease his own apartment and find employment. They'd discussed moving in together, but had decided that rather than rushing into such a domestic commitment; it would be better—not to mention more fun—to take their time courting one another properly.

As for the media attention Quatre's broken engagement and newly revealed sexual orientation would draw? Trowa had already expressed his lack of perturbation at such attention. As a performer, he was equipped well enough to handle the spotlight. Quatre had long ago realised that no publicity was truly bad publicity when one had a good PR department. It was time enough to live his life for himself.

And so, their last evening found them sprawled in bed with the remnants of their room service dinner littering the serving cart and nearby table. Sunset draped Trowa's prone form with its gossamer colours: warm gold and deep orange, delicate pink and dusky violet. Quatre's new lover's eyes were drowsy beneath heavy eyelids, but Trowa's mouth eased into a slow smile in appreciation of the hand wandering along his back.

Quatre savoured the smooth warmth of Trowa's skin, sleek over the angles and curves of his nude body. He trailed his fingers to one contour in particular, letting his hand wander back and forth over the firm swell of Trowa's backside, and then linger on the more concave turn the muscles took where his buttocks met the backs of his thighs. Trowa's smile widened, and he stretched, cat-like, under Quatre's touch.

It was the easy smile, the new smile that went with Trowa's shorter hair and greater social ease. Quatre had to know. "Who taught you to smile like that anyway?"

Trowa raised his eyebrows. "You did."

the end