Love is a Four Letter Word

“Excuse me. I was told I’d be able to find Trowa here?”

“Yes, Trowa’s here.” The woman with the red hair stared up at Zechs warily. “May I ask who you are?”

“I’m…an old acquaintance of his,” Zechs replied evenly. The woman nodded slowly, her expression still a little mistrustful of him. “He invited me along to see the show tonight and I wanted to congratulate him on a job well done.”

The woman nodded again and offered him a tiny smile, opening the door to the trailer to invite him inside. “Do forgive me,” she said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to be so rude to you. I just have to be careful where my baby brother is involved.”

“You’re his sister?” Zechs asked, not bothering to hide his surprise. Then again, he shouldn’t really even be surprised. Trowa had never mentioned any family before and Zechs idly wondered what other things Trowa had been hiding.

“I’m Catherine,” Trowa’s sister said in way of introduction, holding out her hand to Zechs. He shook it briefly before pulling away.

“I’m Zechs,” was all he said in response. Catherine raised an eyebrow, but showed no indication that she’d heard of him before.

“Trowa!” she called. “There’s someone here to see you!”

Trowa emerged a few minutes later; his hair still damp from the shower Zechs presumed he had just taken. He blinked when he saw Zechs standing there, but his face registered no surprise.

“Good evening,” he said politely. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” Zechs replied. “I thought it was excellent.”

“Hnn,” was all Trowa said in response.

“Trowa, don’t be rude to your guest,” Catherine scolded. “I’m sorry,” she said to Zechs. “He’s a little shy sometimes, but I guess you’d know that already, being his friend and all.” She turned to her brother again. “I was just about to make some soup. Your friend is welcome to stay and eat with us.”

“That’s okay,” Trowa said quickly. “I thought I’d just go out and stretch my legs first.”

“Oh, all right,” Catherine said. “I’ll save some soup for when you get back.”

“Thanks, Cathy,” Trowa told her, moving towards the door. He turned and glanced at Zechs over his shoulder. “You coming?”

Zechs nodded, saying a quick good bye to Catherine before following Trowa outside.

“If she ever offers you soup again, I’d advise you to refuse.” Trowa sounded almost amused although he didn’t look up at Zechs, either trusting Zechs to follow him or not caring one way or the other what the taller man did.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zechs said with a small smile. Trowa didn’t respond, only stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and kept on walking. For a while, neither of them spoke until eventually, Trowa came to a stop a short distance away from where the rest of the crowd had set up camp. He sat down, tucking his legs underneath him and making himself comfortable.

Zechs sat down beside him, not getting too close. He seemed to have a knack for doing or saying something to upset the other man and this time, he was going to try and avoid doing such a thing.

“So.” Trowa looked over at Zechs, his expression faintly curious. “Why are you here with me?”

“Aren’t I allowed to be?” Zechs asked, aware that he was evading Trowa’s question.

“Yes,” said Trowa, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I want to know why though. Why did you talk to me at the café the other day? Why did you come and see me tonight? What is it that you want, Zechs?”

“I…I just wanted some company,” Zechs said truthfully. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No,” Trowa replied shortly. “But why me? No offence, but we were never exactly what you’d call close friends. Why are you making the effort to know me now?”

“Because I want to,” Zechs said simply. “If you want me to be honest, then I’ll also say that I’ve always been…curious about you, Trowa Barton. We never really got the chance to get to know each other before, so I’d like to rectify that now.”

“Hnn.”

Zechs sighed inwardly. This guy was almost as bad as Heero. “I came to you offering my friendship,” he said finally. “If you want to throw it in my face, then at least save me the trouble of trying to translate your little grunts and tell me what it is that you want.”

“I suppose I might like to get to know you,” Trowa said softly. “I still don’t see what you find so interesting about me, but if you feel that strongly about it, then who am I to deny you?”

Zechs frowned in confusion. “So in your own roundabout way, you’re saying that you’d like to be my friend?”

Trowa stared at him for a long moment and then looked away. “If that’s what you’d like.”

“You could always just say yes or no,” Zechs told him, the corners of his mouth tugging up slightly.

“If that’s what you want, then yes.”

“Oh.”

They fell silent again and Zechs toyed with the loose strands of his hair. He guessed that now Trowa had decided to trust him, he should start getting used to these silences.

“Don’t do that.”

Zechs looked up, startled at the sound of the other man’s voice. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ll get split ends.”

Oh, the hair. Zechs obediently let go and placed his hands in his lap with a sigh. He frowned questioningly when he saw that Trowa was wearing just a hint of a smile. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Trowa said, looking away. “You just looked like a child who’s just been scolded. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” Zechs told him. “You’re not the first person to tell me that and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

“So why don’t you just tie it back?” Trowa asked. “At least then it wouldn’t be in your way.”

“I do,” Zechs said, pushing his sleeve back and removing the band from around his wrist to show Trowa. “I just like it better lose. You’re right though. It does tend to get in the way.”

Trowa watched him thoughtfully out of the corner of his eye before motioning for Zechs to come closer. The taller man did so, feeling more than a little confused.

“Turn around,” Trowa instructed. “And give me your band.”

Zechs almost grinned when he realised what Trowa was about to do. It was more than he had been expecting, but it wasn’t like he was about to turn him down. He handed the band over to Trowa and sat with his back to the other man, waiting for him to make the next move.

“That was very trusting of you,” Trowa commented, reaching out and carefully running his fingers through Zech’s hair, combing out a few of the tangles.

“Yes, I suppose it was,” Zechs replied, trying not to shiver at the feeling of gentle fingers in his hair.

“I could have broken your neck by now and you wouldn’t have been able to do a thing about it,” Trowa told him casually, working out the rest of the knots.

“That’s true,” Zechs admitted. “But you’re not going to break my neck, are you, Trowa?”

“You’re making assumptions again,” the other man said warningly. “But once more, you’re correct. I have no intention of breaking your neck. Not right now, anyway.”

“Then I’ll worry about it when the time comes.” Zechs allowed himself a small smile. Trowa was certainly different. Different, but no less interesting by any means. He relaxed into Trowa’s touch, marvelling over how gentle he was being when he could indeed wreak a significant amount of harm on Zech’s body should he feel the need. It seemed though that he was almost too relaxed and he was startled when Trowa lightly poked him in the shoulder.

“Falling asleep on me?” Trowa asked his voice tinged with amusement.

“Hmm,” was Zech’s response. He somehow got the distinct impression that Trowa was laughing at him, even though the smaller boy made no other sound. Zechs wasn’t too offended. He didn’t mind being the source of Trowa’s amusement. The boy had never once given him a real smile in all the time that he’d known him. Maybe he’d be able to change that.

“Zechs.” This time, Trowa’s voice was all seriousness and Zechs sat up straighter to show that he was paying attention.

“Yes, Trowa?”

“Do you ever get lonely?”

Trowa’s voice was so soft that Zechs had to strain to hear it. He thought for a moment before replying. “Sometimes,” he said. “Do you?”

“Maybe. Are you lonely now?”

“No,” Zechs told him. “I’m with you.”

“Hnn.” Trowa’s fingers were still buried in his hair and were working busily. Zechs wondered vaguely what he was doing. He seemed to be making far too much effort just to tie his hair back into a simple ponytail.

“You’re not giving me pigtails, are you?” Zechs asked suspiciously.

“So what if I am?” Again, Trowa sounded amused and Zechs found that he liked it. “If you really want to know, I’m braiding it,” Trowa informed him. “Your hair isn’t as long as Duo’s, but there’s more than enough for me to braid.”

“Wish I’d thought to do that before,” Zechs said ruefully.

“Duo usually managed to talk me into doing his hair for him whenever we were staying in a safe house together,” Trowa said, surprising Zechs yet again by giving out another piece of voluntary information. “I guess I just started doing yours the same way out of habit. Of course, if you wanted me to give you pigtails, all you had to do was ask.”

Zechs laughed at that. “Maybe some other time,” he said.

“I’ll add it to my ‘things to do to’ list,” Trowa told him solemnly. “You want me to put your hair in pigtails before or after I break your neck?”

“Definitely before,” Zechs said just as seriously. “I wouldn’t have the coroner find me any other way.”

It was then that Trowa laughed, really laughed. Zechs peered over his shoulder, marvelling at the change in the other man’s facial features. He suddenly looked a lot younger, a lot more carefree than he usually did.

“You have a nice smile,” Zechs told Trowa once he’d calmed down. “You should use it more often.”

“I use it whenever I find something amusing,” Trowa said simply. He twisted the band round the end of Zech’s braid and surveyed his work critically. “It looks okay.”

“Just okay?” Zechs asked with a smile.

Trowa shrugged. “All right, so it looks nice,” he said gruffly.

Zech’s smile widened. Getting to know the other boy was a lot better than he had thought it would be. “Thank you, Trowa,” he said eventually.

Trowa gave him a curt nod. “Anytime.”