FicWad

Parings: 4x3, 2+3

Warnings: Nothing for this part

Rating: PG-13 for now. Will eventually go up to NC-17

Summary: AU fantasy, fluff. Trowa meets a unicorn one day and his life will never be the same.

A/N: This story is very loosely based/inspired by the short story "Singing Innocence & Experience" by Sonya Taaffe. Also, my childhood love of the novel and animated movie "The Last Unicorn" played a part I'm sure. Feedback is always appreciated, but never demanded.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and all characters involved sadly do not belong to me.

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The Unicorn- Chapter One




Trowa Barton liked to think of himself as a reasonable young man. He stopped believing in Santa Claus when he was six, never believed in the Tooth Fairy, and was absolutely positive that unicorns did not exist. Unicorns were something that only girls believed in. Unicorns were supposed to appear before virgins- girl virgins. Trowa was most definitely not a girl, but at the ripe old age of twenty he was still a virgin, and a unicorn found him anyway.

It was on the last night of his classes, right before the summer intersession. Trowa had stayed late to say goodbye to a few friends he knew he would not see over the summer and had missed the bus he usually took to get home. Free from the added weight of his book bag, Trowa decided to walk the twenty or so city blocks back to his apartment. It was a warm summer evening, and at nine-thirty the city was just starting to come alive.

He was about halfway to his destination when he remembered that if he cut through the park that was two blocks up and one block over, he could save himself some time. So, he crossed the street at the crosswalk and headed towards the park. He distinctly remembered that there was a full moon hanging high in the sky that night, casting a silver glow on everything. That was the only reason he could come up with later as to why he noticed what he did out of the corner of his eye.

Walking at an easy pace along the paved walkway with his thumbs hooked in the pocket of his jeans, Trowa thought he saw a flash of light, like a reflection off of a shiny object. He turned to the direction of the flash to find himself gazing directly at a large, white, something lying at the base of one of the trees. He moved in for a closer look. When he was about twenty feet away the shape resolved itself into that of a horse resting on the ground.

A horse? Trowa thought. Why is a horse sleeping under a tree, in a park, with no one around? Trowa knew that there were stables somewhere in the area to house the horses that pulled the carriages the tourists loved to ride in. But that didn't explain why this one was left unattended, and besides didn't horses sleep standing up? Curiosity got the better of him and he walked up to the animal. Suddenly the world became silent. The noise from the city vanished as the horse lifted its head and looked directly at Trowa. He froze where he stood, unsure what he should do as he locked eyes with the beast. He was scared that he might startle the horse and it might trample him, or worse, take off and run into the street and get hit by a car. The horse cocked its head slightly. Moonlight glinted off the single spiraling, golden horn protruding from the center of the horse's narrow head.

Trowa let out a startled yelp and began to back up, trying to get away, but a rock seemed to have other plans and caused him to trip and fall hard onto his rear.

A horn? That's not a horse...it's...it's.

Trowa's mind refused to believe what his eyes were seeing.

No way! There was no such thing as unicorns.

Trowa sat with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. It was not fear that kept him rooted where he was, but a certain child-like curiosity that swept over him. The unicorn stood up, confirming that this was no ordinary horse. Its muscular, barrel shaped body was supported by four legs that seemed much too slender and dainty to support such weight. Right above each hoof there were tufts of white hair that looked as silken as the mane that ran along the slope of the beast's neck. When its tail whipped around to beat lightly at its flank, Trowa could see that it was nothing like a horse's tail. It was long and slender, like a rope, but was without hair save for a clump of it directly at the tip. It reminded Trowa of a lion's tail. As the unicorn began to walk towards him its hoofs made no sound.

As the unicorn neared the spot where he sat, Trowa clambered up to his feet and dusted himself off nervously. The light from the moon reflected off the unicorn's hide in such a way that made the creature seem to glow white-hot, like a bare light bulb. Its radiance was blinding, but Trowa could not tear his eyes away from it. When the unicorn finally stood directly in front of the young man, Trowa instinctively reached out his hand. The unicorn sniffed it briefly before it nudging it with its snout. Trowa stepped closer and took the unicorn's head between both hands and began to gently run his fingers up and down the center of its forehead. Trowa had occasion to pet a horse a few times in his life, so he knew what normal horse hide felt like. The unicorn felt nothing like that. Its hair was not short or rough, but softer than the cashmere sweaters his mother used to wear.

"Incredible," Trowa whispered. The unicorn whinnied softly as if it were agreeing with him.

I must be dreaming. I must have fallen and hit my head. There is no way that there is a unicorn standing here right in front of me.

And then suddenly the unicorn was no longer there. Standing in its place, however, was a boy. No, a young man. If Trowa had not seen it with his own eyes he would have thought himself psychotic, but the body of the unicorn had dissolved to become what now stood before him- a young man not far from his own age. The young man's skin was as pale as ivory and appeared to be as smooth as porcelain. His eyes, which were large and rounded, held an unearthly serenity that calmed the fierce beating of Trowa's heart. Even in the low light, Trowa could tell that they were colored the same vibrant blue as the ocean pictured on postcards from the Caribbean. The unicorn-turned-human's hair was blonde, but so light in color that it almost appeared white under the moon, and its length reached the back of his knees. A cherub's face with high cheekbones and a heart-shaped mouth was framed by long, wispy bangs. He wore a simple robe the reached down to his ankles. It shimmered like light dancing across a moonlit pond.

"Hello, Trowa," the unicorn spoke softly. Its voice was distinctly masculine, but contained a timbre that was genderless. It jarred Trowa from his observations and his eyes widened in shock.

"You know my name?" Trowa asked calmly. The young man smiled at the question.

"Yes," he answered simply.

"How?" The unicorn's smile brightened even further and he reached out a delicate hand to place it on Trowa's chest.

"Your heart told me. I heard you calling." The unicorn's touch was electric. Trowa felt it flow through him with a gentle warmth. Without thinking, Trowa closed his fingers around the slender wrist resting lightly on his chest.

"I think you should come with me," Trowa said with the utmost sincerity.

The unicorn looked down at where his wrist was ensnared in a light, but firm grip and then back up to the face of the young man that stood before him. His lips curved back up into a bright grin.

"Yes, Trowa, I think I will." And at that, Trowa began to walk back to the paved trail. He still had his fingers clasped around the unicorn's wrist and the unicorn-turned-human obediently followed.

"Do you have a name?" Trowa asked. "Something I can call you?"

"Yes, Trowa, you may call me Quatre."

"Cat-ta-ra?" The unicorn giggled softly at hearing his name mispronounced.

"That is close enough for me."

The rest of the walk back to Trowa's apartment was conducted in silence, but Trowa's mind was racing a mile a minute.

What have I just gotten myself into?



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"C'mon, you know you want to," the unicorn beckoned to him as he lounged naked on Trowa's bed.

Trowa watched the beautiful young man close the book he had been reading and roll over to face him. Trowa scowled. At home, Quatre was always naked, and it embarrassed Trowa to no end. He only wore clothes when they left the apartment. Trowa tried to keep their excursions to the outside world to a minimum, as the unicorn tended to attract a lot of attention, even in his human form. But it was hard to resist Quatre, lying in bed without a stitch to cover his flawless alabaster skin. When in its true form, the unicorn was the picture of grace and power, of ageless beauty that was preserved in both paintings and poetry. In human form, Quatre was a living, breathing example of everything the male body had to offer, multiplied by ten. Because he appeared to be the around the same age as Trowa, it was convenient to tell his neighbors and friends that his new roommate was a distant relative who was visiting. Trowa stood just slightly taller than Quatre. He wondered if Quatre had planned that. But there the similarities ended. Trowa had a mop of auburn-brown hair that perpetually fell into his dark green eyes. He was tall, thin, but in no way gawky. He was always polite and courteous, but painfully shy. The unicorn knew this and exploited it every chance he got.

"Quatre!" Trowa snapped out of frustration. The unicorn pouted at the use of such a harsh tone. Trowa ran a hand over his face. After two weeks he was beginning to get accustomed to the nudity, but the constant attempts to seduce him were starting to wear thin. "What the hell kind of unicorn are you? I thought you only liked young maidens. Nowhere in any of the mythology I've studied did it mention anything about the unicorn bedding the virgin."

Quatre clicked his tongue lightly. "Trowa, I thought I'd explained to you that it's not the gender that matters, it's the innocence that attracts my kind." Trowa leaned back against the window sill and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Are you saying I'm innocent?"

"Of course," Quatre answered brightly.

"I may be a virgin, but I'm hardly innocent," Trowa ground out, sounding a little pissy. Quatre stood up from the bed and walked over to stand directly in front the auburn-haired young man.

"You are correct. Virginity and true innocence do not always go hand in hand. Besides-" Quatre reached out his hand and lightly ran his index and middle fingers along Trowa's collarbone. Trowa instinctively flinched and the unicorn smiled a petty, I-told-you-so smile. Quatre brought the same two fingers up to his nose and inhaled deeply. His bright blue eyes fluttered closed and his body quivered in rapture. "I can smell innocence at twenty paces." Trowa rolled his eyes at the display. The unicorn had been trying to convince him for two weeks that he was some kind of blushing virgin.

I might be a virgin, but I'm no innocent. I know how the world works. My eyes are wide open.

Trowa pushed himself away from the window and brushed by Quatre. "Get dressed, we're going shopping," he ordered. The unicorn squealed with joy and ran to get his robe.

"No, you're not wearing that," Trowa said sternly as soon as he realized what Quatre was wanted. "You have to wear real clothes when we go outside. You know that." Quatre pouted once again.

"Your clothes are strange. I don't feel right in them," the unicorn complained.

"Nonetheless, you have to wear them. You draw too much attention as it is. Here," Trowa said as he tossed over a pair of jeans and a cotton T-shirt. He debated briefly if he should give Quatre a pair of his boxers to wear, but then decided against it. He knew he would have to listen to Quatre complaining about wearing too many pieces of clothing as it was. There was no need to add to it. He turned to walk out of his tiny bedroom and give Quatre space to change when the unicorn called out to him.

"Trowa, I can't get the buttons," the unicorn whined.

Trowa sighed wearily. It was like living with a child sometimes. The unicorn was truly mystified by many of the things he took for granted. He sometimes forgot that Quatre was not human and he tried to not get annoyed with Quatre's constant questions and inquisitiveness, but it was difficult. He was beginning to rethink his preference in button-fly jeans.

"Quatre, I've shown you how to do this a hundred times," Trowa said, trying not to sound angry.

"I know, but you do it so well. Show me again," The unicorn asked sweetly.

Trowa huffed a bit, but went to Quatre and took hold of the open halves of the fly, working the bottom button through the hole. He had to force himself to keep things clinical and detached. He knew if he dwelled on the fact that his hand was a mere inch away from the unicorn's unclothed genitalia...No, he wouldn't let himself think about it. He cursed himself for not giving the unicorn a pair of his boxers when he had the chance. Trowa was grateful that Quatre was of a more slender build than he was; it meant that there was a little more room for him to work with.

"See, it's easy. You just have to tilt the button to the side a little so that it slips through the button-hole," Trowa instructed. As he began to work on the next button the unicorn leaned forward and began to nuzzle his face in the crook of Trowa's neck.

"Cut it out, Quatre, and pay attention," Trowa said as he tried to shrug him off. The unicorn made a small whimper of disappointment and backed off. Trowa relaxed and continued. A few seconds later the unicorn leaned in again, but this time ran his tongue along the side of Trowa's neck.

"Jeez, Quatre!" Trowa yelled as he jumped back and away from him. "What the hell did you do that for?" He brought his hand up to his neck to wipe at the wet trail of saliva.

"I'm sorry, Trowa. You smell so good, it's hard for me to resist sometimes," Quatre said truthfully.

"Well, try harder," Trowa snapped.

"I know, and I'm sorry. Let me give you a hug." The unicorn moved towards him, arms outstretched, pants still unbuttoned. Trowa practically shrieked as he ran out of the room. "Trowa!" the unicorn cried petulantly.

"You did that on purpose," Trowa yelled from the living room.

Quatre rolled his eyes, and thought Of course I did it on purpose! He deftly finished buttoning the jeans and grabbed the T-shirt off the bed. "Trowa, you need to relax," he said as he walked into the other room, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Relax? You licked..." The words died on Trowa's tongue as he watched the unicorn enter the room. His breath caught at the way his jeans hung low on Quatre's hips, low enough to show a hint of pubic hair, but the unicorn was gloriously hairless save for what was on his head. Trowa swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched the pale figure before him pull the shirt down over a tight and well defined stomach.

Focus! You are not enjoying this. He's doing it on purpose.

"I licked...? You? Yes, I did," Quatre said smugly as he leaned against the doorframe that separated the small living room from the tiny bedroom.

"Quatre, I've told you a hundred times that I am not going to sleep with you, so stop asking," Trowa said with a sigh.

"That's what you say now," the boy said with a certainty that was unnerving.

"Ugh, enough. Let's get going."

Quatre's feet were too small to fit into any of Trowa's shoes, so he gave the boy a pair of old flip-flops he found in the bottom of his closet. Stepping back to take a look at him, Trowa thought he looked inconspicuous enough to prevent people from following them around. Their last trip to the supermarket had been a nightmare. The second they walked in it had seemed that all eyes were on them. After a few minutes, Quatre was besieged by every child that was in the place. They, Quatre explained later, were able to sense what he was and it was overwhelming to his senses. An "innocence overload", he called it. Trowa was forced to rush him out of the store. He hoped that they would be able to avoid such a scene this time.

The two stepped out into the hall and Trowa turned to lock the door to the apartment. As he turned the key in the deadbolt, he heard someone call his name.

"Trowa! Hey, Trowa!"

Trowa looked up to see his neighbor from two doors down stepping off the elevator. Duo was a freelance photographer who was trying to make it in the industry. He was a few years older and a couple of inches shorter than Trowa. Very friendly and quick-witted, he had a boyish face that made people suspect he was younger than he actually was. Duo wore his long hair in a tight braid that wound down his back like a snake. Trowa often wondered if it was as silky as it looked.

"Oh, hello, Duo," Trowa said as the other man walked over to him. Trowa noticed he had his camera bag slung on one shoulder and a duffle bag clutched his hand. "Are you going somewhere?"

Duo smiled brightly. "Actually, I just got back from L.A. I was hired for a sporting goods catalog shoot. Not exactly my field of expertise, but I've got to start somewhere. It got me a free trip to California, so I shouldn't complain too much." Duo's eyes shifted to the person standing just behind Trowa. "Oh, I'm sorry, Tro. I didn't realize you had company."

Trowa shook himself from the slight stupor he always seemed to find himself in whenever he spoke to Duo. "Huh? Oh, sorry. Duo Maxwell, this is my cousin, Quatre."

Duo extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you," he said politely. Quatre stared down at the outstretched hand for a moment before he grasped in his own and shook it a little too enthusiastically.

"It is very nice to meet you, Duo Maxwell," he beamed.

"Cousin, huh? Where are you two heading off to? It's hotter than hell out there."

"We're just going to the store," Trowa answered shyly. The unicorn's eyes darted back and forth between the two. He noticed the shift in Trowa's attitude and took note of the way Duo leaned in Trowa's direction when he spoke with him.

"Then I'll leave you to it. Talk to you later," Duo said as he started to back down the hall in the direction of his apartment. "It was nice to meet you," he said to Quatre who gave a slight dip of his head in response.

Trowa watched Duo disappear into his own apartment before leading Quatre over to the elevator. When the doors opened, the two stepped inside the car.

"That one smelled nothing like innocence," Quatre said. Trowa gave a long-suffering sigh. "And I think you noticed that too," he added.

"Shut up, Quatre," Trowa groaned.

"He did have very nice hair though," Quatre said as the elevators doors slid shut.



TBC.....