Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is the property of Sotsu Agency/Sunrise. No profits were made in writing this.

Pairing: 3+4+3
Rating: R
Warnings: Shounen Ai/genfic.

Part 28
by kebzero

July twenty-eighth, AC 207

Side Notes

If nothing else, you can trust Duo to get right to the point when his mind is set on it. From breakfast this morning, I quote; "So, are you guys fucking, or what?"

Quatre choked on his tea. I started chuckling. Wufei gave Duo the standard frown of disapproval, and Heero slowly lowered his cup of coffee, no doubt turning all senses on 'record'.

Quatre recovered, looked to Duo, then at me. I gave him a nod, whatever came next was his choice. I had no reservations about Quatre doing the talking. He's better at it than I, and there's also the fact I wanted to hear his version of these last few days.

I'm certain about my feelings, but I'm still not sure about his. Quatre is considerate by nature, and so it isn't as easy to detect when he's being more than politely considerate - the other night certainly did that, but since then...

He started off slow, briefly confirmed that he and I had indeed 'entered a new phase of our relationship', I think was his exact words. "Lovers?", Duo asked. "Boyfriends," Quatre quickly moderated, but the growing blush on his face told Duo - and the rest of them - that Duo was right. My sheepish grin could only seal the deal.

I'm glad - at least he's not embarrassed about being my boyfriend, about being with a man. He's more embarrassed by the implications of Duo's last remark; about sex. We can work on that - not that I plan to make him an exhibitionist, but some things are better experienced than told.

The mood around the table brightened at that, and I sensed no ill-will whatsoever. Duo even congratulated us, the other two following suit, but there was misgivings on Heero's face, just the type he has when he's played a game ten moves ahead and finds nothing but trouble. "So, where will you go from here?" he asked. It was a darn good question. In a week, we'll all be worlds apart.

Quatre made a few false starts at an answer. I reached out across the table to take his hand, get his attention, give him a smile. That sufficed. "We... haven't discussed that yet," Quatre admitted.

That was true enough - ever since the other night, we've only shared brief moments - stray touches in passing, a stolen kiss when we found ourselves alone, that sort of thing. I suppose I could just invite myself back to Quatre's bedroom, but I don't want to push it, not now. I would like him to take the initiative next. I have to know what we have is mutual, not just believe it. I'm certain this is not a one night thing, but only Quatre can tell me that - show me that.

I've had more than a year to get comfortable with the idea, and I'm living my dream now. He's had a few days in which his world was transformed to cope with. It might take a little longer for it all to settle in with him, though I think he's grown to accept and like the idea of us, together.

I smoothed my thumb across the back of his hand, he tentatively brushed his fingertips against my knuckles, and we shared a glance.

It can't have been more than seconds, but that was enough for Duo to roll his eyes and mutter a teasing "Get a room..."

"Well, they would have plenty to choose from here," Wufei quipped back. They both laughed, and soon after the conversation returned to last night's ball game - sports, not anything adventurous between Quatre and me.

The guys decided to crash early, and I half expect Duo engineered that. I think he knows my predicament. If nothing else, it'll make it easier for Quatre, should he want to. I hope he does. I almost expect him to show up here tonight, here in my bedroom, to continue where we left off. There's no point in hiding anymore, not in this house.

While I wait, I return to browsing that poetry collection, especially those written by Walt Whitman. It's strange how words hundreds of years old can still get to me in such a way. Perhaps there is something true about 'eternal love', since that sort of emotion does not get old, like technology inevitably does.

There's this paragraph from one poem called 'Live Oak, with Moss' that I feel describe my sentiments better than my own words could;
'I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands, as directed to me, whispering to congratulate me, - For the friend I love lay sleeping by my side,
In the stillness his face was inclined towards me, while the moon's clear beams shone,
And his arm lay lightly over my breast - And that night I was happy.'

- T. B.

on to part 29

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