The first thing he noted was the fact that he was very warm, the second was that whatever he was lying on, was very lumpy.

Quatre opened his eyes carefully; he'd been surprised once too often over the last few days; he was being cautious. The beautiful sleeping face of Trowa greeted him. Then he remembered the dream, being scared, calling for Trowa, and him being there. Trowa had come to him without question, had only come and comforted him. But what else did he expect? Trowa loved him.

Love. It took on a new meaning now. Before it had been something with conditions and strings attached to it, but now it was free, beautiful and open, allowed to soar to new heights. He could feel Trowa through the link, and he knew Corinne was too exhausted to be maintaining his shields. So he stretched, allowed the link to flare to life, allowed Trowa's love for him to pass into his stream of consciousness. It was the most beautiful and heart-warming experience he'd ever felt. It was everything he'd been searching so desperately for-unconditional love.

Closing the link so only a soft glow emanated from it, Quatre sat up on Trowa's chest and looked at his lover closely, examining perfections and flaws. Trowa needed to shave, that was the first thing that came to his mind, and he had to laugh. Lightly he ran his finger over the two-day stubble and smiled warmly. Trowa was so meticulous about this facet of their lives. He'd even gone so far as to prohibit Quatre from attempting to grow facial hair. "No Quatre, lions have hair on their faces, apes have hair on their faces, but my lover will not." It had been a joke, but Quatre had known he was also very serious. It made him laugh to remember the time Trowa had returned from a long trip, and Quatre had greeted him by rubbing their cheeks together, he having grown a slight stubble just for the occasion. Trowa had laughed, and then in good humor, refused to make love to him until he'd shaved. He was sure he's set some kind of record with a razor that night.

The next thing he noticed was his bangs. They fell lightly off his face, forced down by the laws of gravity. He touched the tips and then traced the lines down from root to tip. "Mine." He said the word without thinking, but it felt so right, not possessive, just reaffirming what he already knew.

Running his fingertips over Trowa's face, Quatre spoke the word over and over, at every new part he touched. Nose, eyelids, mouth, ears, everything he claimed, needing to remind himself of what was his, what belonged to him, and more importantly with him. Trowa.

"I believe it's called a chin, but if you like 'Mine' better, I'll see what can be done." The voice was deep, still laced with sleep; Quatre didn't notice.

"Trowa! You're awake!" Letting his arms fall from beneath him, he sunk back onto Trowa and lay there, letting his hold on him tighten.

"Hn, what time is it?"

"I don't know; it doesn't matter. Did you sleep well? I can't imagine how you could with me lying right on top of you like this; are you sore?"

Trowa chuckled, "I'm fine, Quatre; you're not that heavy. An old trick I learned from a man that used to lie on nails for credits-distribute the weight, and you won't feel a thing. Besides, I like having you on top of me."

"Oh Trowa, you silly, you like me beneath you too!" They both laughed-such a joyous sound.

Then Quatre sighed a deep sigh and lifted himself off Trowa. "I suppose I'll let you up, but only long enough for us to move this somewhere more comfortable." He knew his eyes held a look of desire laced need, and as he looked, so did Trowa's.

Pulling his tall lover up, Quatre made to move them towards the bedroom, but Trowa's sudden grip about his waist knocked him off balance, and he went crashing back onto the couch, resting in Trowa's lap. "Trowa?"

But Trowa only shook his head. "We did this last time, Quatre, and believe me, there isn't anything I want more than to see you writhing in pleasure beneath me, but we have to talk first. However much you'd like, but I want you to talk with me for a little while."

He felt trapped for almost a second, and he could tell that Trowa had seen the flicker of fear cross his face, but the soft glow from the link called to him, reminding him that Trowa could be trusted; because love was now unconditional. Trowa would love him even if he never said another word; it was the new meaning of love.

Allowing the initial fear to pass, Quatre adjusted in Trowa's lap and then settled in for the long discussion he knew would take place. He kissed the underside of Trowa's chin. "You know, I think I like calling it 'Mine'
better. I think we should just change your name to 'Mine' and then we wouldn't have to worry about it anymore." He smiled brightly at Trowa's concerned look. "It's alright Trowa, I'm only playing around. We can talk about anything you want; I don't mind. Whatever's bothering you-"

"How about what's bothering you. Why don't you tell me." A statement, not a question.

Quatre nodded his head and thought for a moment. He felt no reservations about telling Trowa anything; he just didn't know where to start, where to begin a tale that was his entire life.

"Um, Trowa, there's a lot you don't know that I want to tell you; maybe we should narrow it down a little."

Trowa nodded, and then said quietly, almost as if he was afraid that he'd reject the question, "Tell me about Cijen."

Cijen. Her name still hurt, stung at his heart, but a flare from the link calmed his nerves; it was Trowa. He may not trust anyone else, but he could trust Trowa; with anything. Love.

"Where should I start with Cijen? She's been such a huge part of my life. I guess I could start at the beginning. She was nine when I was born; she's only nine years older than I am. Hard to believe isn't it?"

Trowa nodded his head, and Quatre could tell he was afraid to talk, to break the spell he thought he was under. Quatre wanted to dispel his fears, but knew that only time would do that. Until then, he'd just have to make Trowa understand that things were different now; they had the new kind of love.

"I guess.it's been hard for me.I'm not sure how to explain it."

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh Trowa, I know that. Trust me, I've figured out you're here for keeps." He wrapped his arms about Trowa's neck and held him close, delivering a soft kiss below his ear. Whispering he said, "I know this has been hard for you Trowa, and I'll do whatever I can to make this easier now. I want you to try and believe that things will get better. I just-"

The movement was quick, and Quatre barely had time to react as Trowa turned his head quickly to catch a soft and passionate kiss. Tongues met and played in the valley forged between them. It was an act of both need and comfort, reminding both of them that they were truly together now, no conditions, no blocks, just together.

Long moments later, they broke apart, both slightly breathless, and gazing into each other's eyes. Quatre broke the silence first, "I love you, Trowa."

"I love you too, Quatre. More than you'll ever know."

A cheeky grin fell across his face, "Oh, I bet I have a pretty good idea." Trowa grinned.

"Tell me more."

He sighed, collecting himself, before trying to continue where he thought he'd left off. "Well, Cijen and I were very close. I know you've read my journals, and you understand how close we were as children-well, I was a child anyway. In a lot of ways she was more of a sister to me than any of the others. Growing up, I hardly knew any of my sisters; it's only been recently that I've even met some of them face to face. But Cijen and I were always close, as close as could be. It was wonderful to have someone to talk to; and even though she didn't always understand, she listened, and that was enough.

"Cijen never actually said she thought my choices were acceptable; she just allowed for them. Would you like an example?" Trowa seemed stunned that he 'd talked as much as he had; he didn't appear as if he wanted to press his luck. Quatre pressed forward. "When my father would beat me.I usually didn't leave the house for weeks-until the bruises healed enough to be considered my own recklessness. So Cijen would play games with me; endless hours of one board game after another. We must have played cards for eight days straight once, but she never complained, never asked me to find someone else to amuse myself with. When the pain was exceptionally bad, when it hurt even to lie in once place, she'd hold my hand or touch my face and just talk to me; making me focus on her words instead of the pain. She didn't know that I'd really be focusing on her emotions, on the love she felt towards me. I never told her, I didn't know how to explain it back then. She held me together for so long Trowa, she was all I had to hold onto."

His voice faded, and he clung to Trowa, needing to feel reassured as he spoke such dark words of love and friendship. He rested his head on Trowa's shoulder, and listened to the beating of his heart; it was such a reassuring sound.

"Are you alright, Quatre?"

"I'm fine. It's just hard to talk about Cijen. She's still something I'm not sure about myself. I still don't know what really made her turn against me. When we were younger-well when I was with the Maganacs, she came to visit me. She met-" Suddenly he felt self-conscious about mentioning Koeran to Trowa. He still didn't know how Trowa had taken his confession from the night before, and he didn't know how Trowa would receive Koeran's name into the conversation. He needed to find out first.



"I-that is-how would you feel-can I, oh forget it. Trowa I need to just ask you this, and I need you to tell me the truth, alright?"

He could feel Trowa tense at the question, preparing himself for anything. At his partner's nod, he continued, hesitantly.

"I want to talk about Koeran. There are a few things you might like to know. But I don't want to talk about him if you're uncomfortable with him as part-"

"Quatre, we can talk about whatever you'd like."

"Trowa, I know you'd listen to me, that's not what I mean. I-I know that you can handle all types of things I didn't want you to have to, and that I kept from you. I thought I was protecting you and never realized that I was hurting you more than you knowing would ever have hurt. But I still feel a need to protect you, and I can't see that as being bad. I love you, and with love comes this need I feel to take care of you. I need to know that if I do talk about him, you won't get upset, or worse, that you'll get angry but won't tell me. We need to figure out a way to be honest with each other about how we feel about things." Sheepishly he finished, "I'm not sure I can block any negative emotions coming from you right now; I'm still a little.weak."

"We can talk about him. I'm not sure what my feelings toward him are. I think there's some jealousy, but mostly I'm grateful to him for taking care of you when you needed someone. I suppose I'll always wish that I was the one, but I have to remember that we didn't even know each other then. It's hard to think of you loving someone else, even if it was a long time ago."

True to his words, gratitude and jealousy slipped through the link. But Quatre knew he himself felt the same way towards Catherine, and he told Trowa.

"Jealous of Catherine? She's my sister, or as close to one as I've ever had."

"I know that, but it's the same thing. She took care of you when you needed her too, and there are times I wish we had known one another so I could have been the one. But you're right, it's a silly notion, and we both have to remember that the people that loved us in the past shaped us into who we are now. For that I will always be grateful to Catherine."

"And I to Koeran." His voice held every note of sincerity and Quatre smiled in response.

"Are you sure you're alright with it Trowa? We could always talk about him later."

"No, go ahead. I have to admit, I'm curious."

Nodding his head, Quatre continued. "Cijen, she came to visit me while I was with the Maganacs. It wasn't long after Koeran and I had first gotten together, and I was still very.very nervous about other people knowing about us. It wasn't as if I was scared, but more like I didn't want anyone to think less of me, like my father and family had. But Cijen came, and before I knew it we were sitting having dinner. At the time she was twenty-three and very mothering towards me; most people would have found it stifling, but I never had a mother, and Cijen was an excellent stand in.

"So as I said, we were sitting down for dinner, which is a communal affair in the camps. I'd been avoiding Koeran while Cijen had been with me, and he seemed to have taken the hint. However, my sister did not." A smile stole over his face, "He was sitting across from me. I'm not sure how she figured it out-she told me mother's intuition-but in front of the entire group she said, 'Quatre, will you please tell me why your boyfriend is sitting all the way over there?' Now it's priceless, but then, well, I was very concerned. But Cijen didn't take any notice, only walked right over to Koeran and made him come and sit with us for the rest of dinner. She liked him very much." Again his voice trailed off as he remembered the look on Koeran's face when Cijen had brought him over to eat. He'd looked apologetic, and also stunned beyond belief, they'd both been stunned by Cijen's discovery of them.

"Then Cijen approved of Koeran?" Trowa's voice was quiet, trying to hide what the link wouldn't allow to stay hidden.

"Trowa, Cijen was very happy for me, that's true, but I don't think that her hostility towards you or even me has anything to do with whether she approves of you or not. It's hard to explain, but I think if she weren't so
angry with me, she would have accepted you with open arms. I really believe that."

He nodded. "But it doesn't matter. Her lack of acceptance of me is hurting you-"

"But don't you see, Trowa? That doesn't matter anymore. It does in the sense that I'd like all of my sisters to be just as in love with you as I am; but their opinions don't matter all that much. I do wish Cijen was happier for us, but that doesn't seem like it's going to happen any time soon. I want you to understand that even if she doesn't-even if she never approves of you, I will always love you. I will always need you with me. All that matters is that you approve of me, that you still want me; as long as that's the case, as long as we're still  together, nothing else matters."

Trowa seemed to reflect on that a moment, and while he thought, Quatre rested against him, loving the warmth and peace he now felt in his lover's arms. It was so different than it had been, so inviting instead of a chore he'd had to perform.

"What happened the rest of Cijen's visit?"

"Well, she made a royal nuisance of herself, always touching stuff." He smiled to let him know he was kidding. "But I think the most important part was that she let me know in small ways that she was happy that I'd finally found someone. The dinner episode was only one example; there were others. Like when she'd refused to dance until Koeran and I did first, together. They were small things that added up quickly, and made me feel more at ease around both Koeran and her."

"Did you ever tell her you were lovers?"

He paused, "No. I never had that type of courage. Even when Koeran and I did become lovers, I made him promise to tell no one. I wasn't ashamed; that isn't the right word for it. It was as if I wanted the world to know, to understand how happy we were together, but at the same time I was so afraid that my father would find out and hunt me down, maybe even take Koeran away from me. The fear seems irrational now in hindsight, but back then, I was sure my father could do anything, even make Koeran feel disgust towards me."

He felt Trowa's arms hold him more securely. Then he thought of something that Trowa had to know. "Trowa, I never wrote this in my journals; I didn't write much of anything in them after-after ZERO." He paused, trying to push the memories of Trowa's Mobile Suit blowing up before his eyes.

"Shhhh, Quatre, it's all right." He didn't realize he'd started shaking.

"I-I told my father about you.before he died." He didn't need the link to let him know Trowa was stunned.

"What.did he say to you?"

Quatre pushed the pain away, "I told him that I'd met someone, a pilot of another Gundam. I told him your first name, and I remember thinking that at least I'd told him that, that I'd felt enough towards you to lose you to him. I know it sounds strange, but up until yesterday, it all made perfect sense to me.

"He was, needless to say, extremely upset. He accused me of fighting and killing innocent people to pick up guys. I have to admit, it was even a funny idea at the time, thinking of going up to you, both of us in our Gundams and asking you to have dinner with me. I nearly laughed hard enough to cry when he said that." He paused and snuggled closer to Trowa.

"I find some measure of happiness knowing that he died with the knowledge that I defied him to his death. That doesn't sound very much like me, does it?"

"No, but I think I understand."

He nodded, "I didn't take his death as a loss, more like a release. So many of my sisters, including Cijen, thought that I went crazy because of Father's death, but in reality I was more upset about the colonies' betrayal; that they'd turned their backs on us yet again. I'm sure that there is a part of me that still loves him, a part that I've completely ignored; and no doubt Corinne will find it and I'll be a weeping mess. But I just don't see it; I can't feel anything from his death except relief. Does that seem strange to you Trowa, do I sound sicker than I thought I was?"

Trowa shook his head. "I think that under the circumstances, if you have enough love left in you not to hate him and curse his name at every turn, then it doesn't seem strange at all."

Quatre nodded his head and ran lazy fingers over Trowa's buttons. "Thank you Trowa, for saying that. It means a lot."

"It's true, Quatre. I would not have had the ability to forgive him for what he'd have done to me, if I were in your place."

He sighed, "I think perhaps my sisters are most angry at me for not feeling a sense of sadness towards my father's death. Even Cijen, while she hated Father for the things he did to me, she also loved him very much. I think it hurt her deeply that I couldn't forgive him even in death."

"I don't know how she can blame you."

"You've only seen a negative view of my father, but in reality he was a very kind and gentle man. He was the best thing that ever happened to the colonies, and his message of peace held the masses together after Heero Yuy's death. He loved my sisters very much, and I think now-after having time to think on it-he loved me as well. Perhaps after twenty-nine girls he had no idea how to raise a boy; I'm not sure, but I do know that he tried to make me a man, only to push me away later when it didn't work the way he wanted. But Trowa, he was good. I wish sometimes that he'd been kinder, more understanding with me, but he wasn't, and as long as so many people morn his death, then maybe my voice in the crowd isn't missed as much."

"I suppose I don't have your compassion."

"Trowa, you have all the compassion I need, and then some." He hugged Trowa, and allowed their lips to meet, invoking a slight moan from both of them. He smiled and then leaned into Trowa, their noses touching, "Maybe we 've talked enough for a while. I think we should take a break from all this revealing and disclosing and find something else to do, don't you agree?"

Trowa didn't say a word instead, he pulled Quatre to him and locked their mouths together in a searing kiss. Hands moved everywhere, and Quatre felt a fire deep inside of himself ignite. He wanted Trowa badly, to show him he loved him, to receive love in return. It was one thing to say 'love' and another to enact it.

"Trowa, I want to make love to you. I want to feel you inside me, all around me, everywhere." They moaned together at his words, and deepened the battle of their lips.

Shifting his position, Quatre straddled Trowa's thighs and settled on the tops of his knees. Not leaving the delicious warmth of Trowa's mouth, he ran his hands up and down his lover's chest. Sensitized flesh rubbed against soft, dark blue silk; Trowa's breath caught in his throat, and Quatre took the advantage. Tongues caressed and explored surroundings they had not ventured in far too many hours.

Pulling away, Quatre rained feather light kisses across Trowa's face and neck; pausing to lay his tongue across some particularly delicious spots. His hands worked lightly into the muscles at the back of Trowa's neck. Purring like a large satisfied kitten, Trowa leaned into the touches, reveling in the feel of his hands.

With practiced ease, Quatre drew Trowa's mouth back to his, joining their bodies in a mock display of what was to come. Trowa's hands found life then and pulled Quatre from his knees, flush up against him. Both men cried out at the contact, and Quatre found himself overcome with need.

Frantic with a sense of purpose, he drew the buttons from their holes, laying open the blue silk, and exposing the smooth flesh beneath. With abandoned passion, he attacked. Pulling away from Trowa's mouth he dropped open-mouthed kisses all along the long expanse of well-defined chest muscles. Taste and texture, all the things he loved and had somehow forgotten over the last few months. Even when they'd made love a few days ago, it hadn't been right; it wasn't the same as it should have been. But now it all seemed so right, so perfect.

Trowa's hands ran up his spine, and he couldn't help but arch closer to his lover, abandoning his chest as Trowa's hands reached up into his hair. He sighed and let skilled fingers work magic into his body. Pass after light pass, Trowa laid loving strokes through his hair, careful to work through any tangles he found in the blond perfection. Quatre rubbed his cheek across Trowa's shuddering as their day old stubble caused friction to set them both into soft chuckles.

"Trowa, if you say we have to shave before finishing this, I may have to kill you."

Laughing, Trowa shook his head, "I think this once we'll make an exception to the rule."

"Good, I promise to make it all up to you." Trowa only moaned softly in reply.

Their mouths met again, and with a much slower tempo, they allowed for soft passes and quiet sighs of contentment. Hands found each other and locked into themselves, proving yet again that they were a perfect fit.

For a long time they sat like that, allowing the exploration and reveling in the discovery of one another yet again. Quatre knew he'd be long dead before he ever became tired of these sweet moments when time stood still, and all that existed was Trowa.

So much of these past few months had been spent avoiding his lover, and now all he wanted to do was dive into him, to be surrounded by the emotions he knew resided below the cool surface of his long time love.

Twisting his body, Quatre pulled Trowa atop him and gently pushed away from bruised lips. He smiled at him, watching the desire dance dangerously in his eyes. Trowa understood; this wasn't like the other night, it was different, it meant more. Their coupling before had been of sheer desire to stall Trowa's search into Quatre's problems, and likewise Quatre not to have to examine his own. But it was so different now, so completely opposite from what it had been only a day before.

It was a new love, a new way of seeing what they were to each other and to themselves. It called to be completed, to allow for this physical manifestation of itself to be performed, almost a seal on a deal. It made the love real, made it complete in all aspects of their lives.

"It'll be different tonight, Trowa. I don't want to rush this. I'm not even sure I want it to end, ever. I've missed this-you and I, together without limits. I-I wasn't sure we'd ever get back to this place."

"But we have, and you and I are together now, more so than we've ever been before. This will be special, Quatre. One for your journals." A sexy smile crossed Trowa's face, and he felt the returning smile on his own.

Again their lips met, and with them, hands pulled at clothing. Never breaking contact, Quatre stripped his beloved of the blue shirt that stood barrier to the meeting of his hands and marble hard flesh. Once gone, his hands kneaded the muscle beneath the blood-warmed skin. He again felt Trowa 's breath catch as his fingers made contact with the small pebble of flesh; with soft touches that barely existed, he rolled the bundle of nerves, doing his best not to show his own labored breathing.

Trowa's pleasure seeped through the link, and it was all Quatre could do to keep from being overwhelmed by it. Bright tendrils of need streaked across his mind, sweeping him along, heightening his own pleasure. A sudden flash of inspiration caught his attention, and he pulled away from Trowa's mouth to give his idea voice.

"Trowa, let me path with you. It won't be difficult, since I'm having trouble maintaining the shields anyway. You'll get to see and feel everything that I do when we're together. It's like nothing I could ever describe to you. Will you let me try?"

Trowa paused for a moment, examining this own perceptions of the link. Still breathing hard, he asked, "Are you sure you can? You already said you 're almost drained completely."

"I can handle it. In fact it'll be easier than trying to fight the link and keep it closed. It may overwhelm you at first, but you should adjust quickly. May I try?"

Giving a hesitant nod of his head, Trowa agreed and rested on his elbows above him, waiting for something he'd never experienced before.

With gentle caution, Quatre reached for the link and pushed, opening it completely. He drew in a deep, sharp breath as he felt the full impact of Trowa's desire and need surround him in all its colorful glory. Then he was reaching, looking for the way that would lead him directly to Trowa, and solidifying the path. After a few moments of searching, he called out a faint warning to Trowa to be ready and then allowed the path to form from the link.

Above him, Trowa shuddered, all the feelings this new sense of love and trust Quatre had, now rushing in and gripping Trowa tightly. After many long minutes, he opened his eyes and looked directly into Quatres'; neither one could deny themselves much longer.

Abandoning their desire to go slowly, they reached out with fumbling fingers to remove all the clothing that covered their bodies. Minds linked together, the pleasure of one bounced across the link to the other, making them both shudder and moan in unison.

Clothes gone, dumped on the floor with no care, Trowa stood, and pulled a now naked Quatre to his feet. They moved as one, both sensing the anticipation from the other as they moved into the bedroom and fell onto the bed, bodies intertwined.

Both ready beyond need, Quatre reached into the drawer by the bed, and withdrew a bottle of lightly scented oil. With look alone he asked Trowa for permission, before receiving-through the link-all that he needed to know.

Pouring the oil into his hands, he worked them together, heating the slick substance to a comfortable temperature. Then with strangled breath he ran his hands along Trowa's shaft, coating it with light touches, knowing that their combined pleasure from the simple act could undo them both before they 'd even begun. Lightly he covered his entire length, before spreading his lover's long legs and settling between them.

Careful to make his intentions known, he ran his finger from the tip of Trowa's shaft down to the opening of his beautiful body. Leaning up, he kissed Trowa hungrily, before nudging his finger past the tight muscles that stood guard there. One finger, and then another, until he felt through the link that Trowa was completely and maddeningly ready.

Removing his warm fingers, he reached for the oil, only to find that Trowa had the bottle in hand. With equal diligence and care, Trowa warmed the oil before lightly stroking it onto his ridged length.

And then there was nothing to prevent them. No lack of understanding what they both wanted, for they were truly one mind. With care, Quatre guided his length to Trowa's readied entrance. He rested his hand on Trowa's hip, before leaning over to place a soft kiss on his stomach.

"I love you, Trowa." And then in one smooth stroke he was inside heat and pressure that caught the breath in his throat and caused his eyes to roll to the back of his head. Beneath him, he felt Trowa strain against him, both riding the wave of pleasure that volleyed between the two.

When Trowa again strained up to meet him, whispering soft incoherent words, Quatre pulled back slightly before pushing forward again. This time he pressed into that spot-the place where pleasure and pain met in a crashing dance of craving need. He gasped and shuddered as Trowa did, both feeling the sensation together.

Then it passed, but neither one would allow it to stay away long. Repeating his actions, Quatre withdrew, only to drive into Trowa again and again, each time a little harder, faster, and more frantic than the last. There was little else besides the feeling, nothing more or less than the full emotional impact of two lovers sharing the same mind.

As the pace became demanding and wild, they both felt the other race towards completion, both felt the tightening of their bodies, felt it as one, until finally, in an explosion of release and true completion, they came together.

For a moment, they were caught in a loop, one person's pleasure causing another round of release, before that in itself cause the pleasure to cause the release. Again and again they peaked with each other, over and over knowing what it was like to feel as one.

Finally the sensations were too much, and darkness fell over them both, still locked together, bodies still joined as one.

Moments passed before the blackness receded from Quatre's mind. With Trowa's mind quiet beneath him, he closed the link and sank back, resting his spent body atop Trowa's. Once the dizziness passed, he withdrew from Trowa's body before rolling onto his back and pulling Trowa to rest against his

Quietly he allowed his mind to process what had happened, as he stroked lazy fingers through the hair of his beloved. He dropped a light kiss to Trowa's forehead as he began to stir.

"Quatre?" His voice was laced with drowsy happiness.

"Shhh, it's alright. Trowa. That was very intense. We both blacked out for a moment. How do you feel? Are you alright?"

In reply, Trowa snuggled closer, wrapping his long arms around Quatre's waist. Leaning his head up, he kissed the underside of Quatre's chin before burrowing back into his shoulder. His voice was more awake when he spoke, "Is that what it's always like for you, Quatre?"

He chuckled, "No beloved, it's never, ever been like that before. I've sensed your emotions before, but I've never felt my own bounced from you back to me and again. I never knew it could be like that, didn't know it
was possible to feel so much at once. And the end," he took a deep breath, "Never before, Trowa, never before."

His tall lover nodded in agreement. "It was quite..amazing."

"Leave it to you to describe it so easily, and, perfectly."

Together they lay, basking in the after glow of a coupling unlike any they'd ever been a part of. Love branched from one to the other, and they snuggled into the feelings of warmth they found in each other's arms. Perfection to its most infinite power. Trowa was right; it was one for his journals.