3x4 get together fic. After years apart, best friends meet again and decide to take Duo up on his offer.
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.
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 33rd 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 10th 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!