(The song lyrics in here were written by me)

Trowa sat with his hands clasped in his lap, trying not to touch Quatre whilalancing on the back of the horse; the prince flinched wheneverthe taller man touched him.
Quatre hadn't said a word since the kiss that morning, and hiscort had fallen strangely silent as well. Trowa didn't know what happenefter he'd fled the dining room, but he guessed that Quatre had told everyonot to say anything.
*I made a complete fool of myself today, and I would deserve it ie decides to leave me in the desert somewhere.* Trowa gasped when the horsade a short jump, causing him to fall backwards, arms flailing.
The prince grabbed the brunet's wrist, pulling him into place on thnimal's back. "Trowa, what are you doing? Hold on to me, or you'll fall ofnd get hurt." When Trowa seemed to hesitate, Quatre seized both of his handnd placed them on his sides.
*Well, this means he still cares about me, I suppose.
****
Later that evening, Trowa seated himself on the side of a sand dune=while the others set up camp. He'd actually tried to help, but Quatre had told him to rest because of his injuries. *It's stupid to set up camp in the sand,* he couldn't help thinking as he watched the prince's escort trying to make the tent supports hold steady. Settling back, he closed his eyes anllowed his mind to drift.
*Well, that crazy old woman was at least partially right with heeading; my life certainly has been "turned upside-down and inside-out."*
Trowa shifted to a warmer spot in the sand. *Nothing has been the same sinche day Quatre showed up.*
He recalled the first day the foreign prince had arrived in his home, during the party to announce his engagement to Jocasta. *it's strange; I felt close to him when we first met, like we've been friends for years.* He shook his head, running his fingers through his sweat-soaked bangs. *That sounds ridiculous, even in my own mind.*
Suddenly, Trowa remembered the dream he'd had on the night he'd met
Quatre. *I remember that the one in white told me I'd be set free. Is this what being free means? Was it Quatre who kissed me and promised to cut my strings?* He shook his head again. *There was that other dream, with the doors. I think it meant I have to break down barriers between us, but...what will happen when I do?* His fingers began rubbing the bridge of his nosnvoluntarily *My head has been hurting a lot as of late.*
ith a sigh, Trowa sat up. *I...I kissed him. I don't understand....* He touched two fingers to his lower lip, his headache growing. *Did I...like it?* The memory of the kiss kept appearing in the front of his mind; the softness of his lips, the tightness of the prince'uscles under his clenched hands... *I can remember how angry I was...but that's all. Was there anything else...?* He closed his eyes, knowing in his heart that he was afraid of the thought of enjoying the kiss.
* * *
Trowa stared into the dancing flames of the camp fire, the heat causing stinging tears to well up in his eyes. Blinking them away, he looked at Quatre, who was across from him with n open case on his lap. *I...I should apologize to him.* Taking a deep breath, Trowa stood, walking towards the smaller man. "Quatre, I-"
The prince held out a hand to silence him, then stood. In his hande held a violin. With a smile, he drew the bow across the strings.
The brunet closed his eyes, listening to the beautifully sad melody. *I
know that song.* Hesitantly, because he wasn't used to singing in front others, he added his voice to the violin:
"If you cry I will take away your pain
Even if I have to face the darkness
If you cry your tears will stir my heart
For I was born to love you always."
Trowa paused and licked his lips, glancing at Quatre. *Does he wane to sing?*
As if answering his unspoken question, Quatre began to sing. Quietly, sinct was difficult to open his mouth with his chin on the violin, but the wordlowed out in his native tongue. Quickly, Trowa joined in. The words werifferent, but their voices blended together to form a language that toucheoth of their hearts.
"If you cry I will do anything for you
Even if my life becomes nothing but hurt
If you cry I will defeat a thousand enemies
I promise I won't lay down until your tears are dry."
The bow coaxed out its final notes, then fell still. Withoupeaking a word, Quatre placed the violin in its case, then stored the casetween blankets carefully.
"Quatre, please forgive me," Trowa murmured.
The blond smiled, turning towards the taller man. "I already have."
"Thank you," Trowa whispered sincerely. Quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around Quatre's shoulders and hugged him tightly, heart thundering. He heard the prince whisper his name. When he looked down he found himself caught up in a gentle kiss.
Trowa's heart seemed to stop, his mind racing. *Quatre, please don't. Don't say my name that way, don't love me, don't kiss me, don't make me feel, please....* Trembling, his fingers bit into the smaller man's shoulders, gasping when he felt his lips part and a warm tongue slip between them. Trowa felt his knees go weak, a strange thrumming traveling through his body. "Oh," he whispered, feeling himself sinking.
Quatre led his friend to sit on the ground, pulling out of his grasp to sit beside him. "Are you all right?" he asked, noticing that he was still shaking.
Trowa was touching his lips; they were tingling again. "I think so..." The throbbing feeling he'd had before seemed to settle in his groin, and his cheeks reddened. "I...I, ah...."
The blond smiled again. "I know." He leaned down and kissed his cheek, then grabbed his hand to pull him to his feet. "Come, we must get some sleep; tomorrow we'll arrive in my city."
Nodding mindlessly, he followed the smaller man. *I...enjoyed it....What's happening to me...?*