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Bajo Mi Máscara	By : jeangreymullinsjr Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male > Trowa/Quatre Views: 755 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, nor do I profit from writing! Please don't sue me!

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
AN: I’m happy to announce that this is my first GW fic, so I hope
everyone enjoys it! I got the idea for
this while I was supposed to be working one day…needless to say that job never
got completed, but this first chapter did!!!

This is a 3x4. If Yaoi isn’t
your bag, baby, then you might want to stop reading now…..well, you can read
the beginning chapters, but once you get closer to the end, you may want to
find an early stopping point.

This story is in Trowa’s POV. I
might change POV’s every chapter, but haven’t decided yet, but I’ll let ya’ll
know beforehand.

That being said, my warnings are as follows: (I’m not sure what all of
the terminology is, so if someone wants to explain, please do…..like the
Japanese terms) Language, violence, death (not of a main character), perhaps a
little OOC, eventual lemon/lime (boy on boy….see, there’s where I need help
with the terms!), and if I’ve forgotten anything else, I’ll mention it before
the chapter begins.

Disclaimer: Don’t own um’. And
please don’t sue; I value my treasure trove of junk.

Italics are thoughts.

Chapter 1:

Walking through the glass doors
into WEI was more than a little humbling.
There were people dressed in business suits and dresses, adorned with
expensive tastes, floating around hurriedly, always with something important
pending and a million places to be at once.
And there I was; just got off work at the 33^rd St. Fire
Department and still donning my dingy grey tee with the word ‘FIRE’ written
across the front in big garnet letters, a pair of old, worn jeans with
accompanying suspenders dangling to the sides and my Tevas.
I think I even still had a little ash across my face and arms from the
building we entered this morning.

It was around the time when
everyone started faltering in their steps to throw shocked expressions in my
direction that I wished I had been able to take a shower before coming. I knew I smelled like smoke and probably
sweat. Noticing a lady begin breathing
through her mouth when we were crammed into the tight elevator, I made a mental
note to up my deodorant to something a little more lasting.

As the doors slid open on the 10^th
floor, I was immediately shoved out of the way and into the lobby as the
sardines poured out in different directions, once again with scattered minds
and quick steps. Collecting myself and
remembering to breathe, I forced one leg to follow the other as I made my way
towards the Receptionist. The girl, who
I instantly placed as one of Quatre’s many sisters; Uh…definitely one of the younger ones….something with a ‘C’ I
think….Caitlin?...no, uh, something that sounds like Quatre…Kat….Katrina? I think that’s it…duh, just look for a
nametag dumbass…

Smirking a little to myself upon
discovering I was right, I looked up at her face and was a little uneasy with
the look I was receiving back. There was
a mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes and she sported a smirk of her own as
she eased over the lip of her desk onto her elbows to expose, oh so subtly, the
top of her cleavage, all the while giving me the once, twice, no, three times
over.

“Mr. Barton. Well, don’t you look like something right out
of one of those calendars! You’re
working at the Fire Station now? What
happened to your job with the circus?
Not that I didn’t love the clown suit.
Hey, do you only take jobs where you get to wear those suspenders? They do look rather spectacular on you, but
I’m sure you know that already…”

She began to babble and I had to
put an end to it.

“I was wondering if I could
schedule a meeting with Quatre sometime later today or tomorrow if
possible.” I knew I was being rude by
not supporting her interest in small talk, but I only had so much nerve, and I
knew that if I didn’t stay focused on my task at hand, I would lose what little
I had and bolt.

Blinking into composure, she
grudgingly flipped through his appointment book to look for an available
slot. My unease returned with the
appearance of the same evil smirk from earlier.
She now projected it full force at me as I took a step away from the
counter. I had a feeling that whatever
she was about to tell me was not going to be welcomed.

“Well, it looks like the only time
you’d be able to get in and see Quatre would be….right now.”

I think my legs had begun walking
away of their own accord when I heard her ask where I was I going and didn’t I
want to see him? Of course I did, but…

“I wasn’t ready for this. I mean, I just got off work and haven’t had a
chance to even clean up yet or change. I
mean, there has to be another time slot that you can put me in. Sometime next week even, or the week
after. I’m not going anywhere, so
whenever you can put me in is fine. He
wasn’t even expecting me either, so it’s no big deal. I can come back later or…”

Great, now I was the one
babbling. She must have noticed my
discomfort and nervousness; who wouldn’t?
Taking full advantage of the situation, I watched in horror as she
practically leapt from her seat and began towards the back offices. “It’s fine really; not a problem. I’m sure he won’t mind a thing. You know Quatre. Stuff like that doesn’t bother him in the
least. I’ll just go tell him you’re
here. You can wait in one of those
chairs over there. Don’t run off
now! I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you
again!”

I must have resembled a cornered
cat, because that’s just what I felt like.
With the realization of what had just happened hitting me like a Mack Truck,
I could feel my thoughts folding in on themselves. All of my careful planning had been thrown to
shit and now, all I was left with was anxiety.
To say I was unprepared for this meeting was an understatement of the
highest mark. Sure, we had talked
numerous times and written occasionally over the years, but we had not seen
each other in… three years, is it? The questions I had for myself began to
pile up.

I swallowed, accepting the
situation at hand. Shuffling over to one
of the afore mentioned seating, I tried to concentrate on anything but this
visit. My wandering gaze fell over the
many people fluttering in and out of the offices and down the corridors. No one seemed to ever look up from the papers
in their hands. I spotted a few more of
the Winner sisters every now and then, but none looked up long enough to notice
me, which I’m thankful for. I had only
met a few of them before, and if they were all alike, I could go a few more
years without meeting the rest of them.
Currently, I was watching one of his oldest sisters who talked unstopping
into a cellular headset as she paced in her office, hands flying up
dramatically at whatever she was describing.
However, my attention was soon diverted to the office at the end of the
hall. The glass walls allowed anyone who
paused long enough to be able to see everything inside, everything including
Mr. Quatre Raberba Winner himself. I
felt my throat tighten of its own accord and my surroundings seemed to cloud
over in a sudden haze. There was
something about him that had drastically changed over the years, but still
something so familiar. He looked older, naturally, and had lost all of the baby
fat that he had once carried. He looked
less fragile; something we had teased him about during the wars. He had grown up.

It wasn’t until now that I realized
just how much. During the wars, we had
already considered ourselves adults seeing as how none of us really ever had a childhood
and being thrust into battle at such an early age confirmed our
suspicions. Looking at him and how much
he had grown was a harsh reminder of how young we really were. But right now was not the time to reflect on
those memories.

Katrina had materialized from
somewhere behind him, waiting patiently for him to finish the conversation he
was having with the two men seated around the conference table. As she reached for his shoulder, I wanted to
scream out. Please don’t tell him. Please
let him be too busy to see me. Please
don’t look at me. I watched on the
edge of my seat as she whispered into his ear.
His expression went from a serious, almost pissed look to one of stunned
silence. Even from this distance, I
could see his blue eyes visibly lighten and begin searching wildly.

He disappeared for a moment before
I saw the door to his office fly open.
He paused in the doorway, spying me instantly, inhaling sharply, taking
me in. He started slowly then broke into
a trot, stopping abruptly in front of me, breath hitching. I stood immobile, shielding my emotions
behind a familiar stoic mask. It wasn’t
as if I could command my movements now as it was; I felt my limbs grow heavy
under his gaze.

His brows creased together in
concentration, as if he were making a study of me; I guess that’s what he was
doing. Perhaps I had changed as well
over the years, although I certainly hadn’t noticed anything too dramatic. Maybe I was as different to him as he was to
me. He had a look about him that
reminded me of a dog sniffing out potential food, curious yet cautious.

Standing this close to him, I could
see the tiny laugh lines that had begun to form at the corners of his eyes as
well as very faint sun spots sprinkling across his nose, cheeks and
forehead.

He must have noticed my scan of him
as well; his lips curved into one of his genuine smiles that spread all the way
to his eyes when he allowed. If I had
any doubt as to if this was really him, that smile alone would have halted
suspicions.

We stood, still unspeaking;
assessing the differences those three years apart and a drastic life-change had
done to each other. I hadn’t even
realized that he had moved until I felt his arms wrap around my neck and his
nose press into my shoulder, breathing me in deeply. It took a moment for me to register exactly
what he was doing, but after a few seconds of ‘no response’, (if it were for
any other reason, CPR would have been the next step), I slowly wrapped my own
arms around his back, angling to press my head against the side of his, hugging
him to myself to confirm that this was really my best friend.

Letting my eyes fall closed, I inhaled
his various scents. I was surprised to
discover that all of his natural smells issued forth a lot stronger than
anything he had added to his body. That
was welcomed. Men didn’t need to smell
like a fruit salad. He was all Quatre, a
subtle mix of incense, spices, fresh laundry and his own musk. It was all still so familiar even after our
years of absence.

Speaking
of smells… I pulled myself away from him, remembering belatedly that the
poor boy had his nose jammed into my dirty work shirt. A little embarrassed at my own
thoughtlessness, I broke our unspoken bond of silence with the suaveness of
Cary Grant by beginning with……“I’m sorry I smell.”

Wait, that wasn’t what I had wanted
to say, and I certainly couldn’t imagine Cary Grant saying anything like that.

Obviously amused with my inner
turmoil, damn empathy, Quatre began
to laugh, rather loudly. I turned on him
with one of my best glares and all that seemed to encourage was more
laughter. Finally, he wound down,
sighing “I’ve missed you Trowa.” Now, THAT I could picture Cary saying…

“I’m stepping out for a bit
Katrina. Put any messages I may receive
on my desk, please, and if that Luis fellow calls, forward it to my cell. Thanks.
Coming?” He turned back to me,
eyes bright and full of questions waiting to be answered. I was pretty sure that his questioning
wouldn’t end until I had divulged every detail of my life while I had been
away. I expected no less a report from
him as well.

Nodding my response, I followed him
to the elevators and down through the building, never uttering a syllable.

I’m
sorry I smell… good grief! That’s
why I don’t usually talk!

And that’s it for now, folks!
Upcoming chapters will be longer.
If anyone has any input/advice/suggestions…whatever….please don’t
hesitate to let me know. READ AND
REVIEW! I swear, I’ll worship you in a
personal reply and mention you at the beginning of the chapters!

Thanks!
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Bajo Mi Máscara