Kein Trinkwasser

Pairing: 13x3/3x13

Completed: October 2001

Author's notes: This fic was named after a song by Orbital. The title literaly means "No Drinking Water". Obviously, I'm not an old Japanese guy so I don't own GW. If you like the fic, join the Trowa x Treize mailing list off of the main page!

The newest DJ at "the Box" was spinning ferociously while the hundreds of ravers danced and paced around on or off their fix. Aside from the variety of glow bracelets, sticks, and beads; the dim dance floor was the only thing emanating light in the main room. Specks of light could be seen from the DJ's table dancing around the wrists and necks of the patrons. The DJ himself adorned no glowing jewelry, though he watched a couple dancers in particular radiate light while they moved to the beat in the vast dim blue of the arena.

It was one blonde's first visit to this particular club as to the advice of his solitary associate. He'd become bored with his local club and decided to take Wufei's advice to give this one a try. The beats raged through his veins in his nearly spastic movements. The DJ's pale green eyes scanned the tables before him then back to the blonde over and over again. A couple times he forced his eyes back onto the tables before his music became disastrous. He actually spurned raves, but he got to spin his music freely and it was well excepted. After the first time he spun the manager saw the reaction of the spectators and asked him back with pay. He didn't even consider it work. After the first week, he was paid excellently. The manager, a composed man named Treize, asked him to be the resident DJ for the club but was refused as the stoic DJ was still in college. Because of the long distance he had to drive to get back to his college, he was dubbed DJ Drive. He didn't speak at all let alone his name when he spun, but he responded to it. Treize leaned back against the spinning box at the head of the club and let the carefully spun music soak into his skin like sunlight. The fiery DJ sweat slightly, as he seemed to be letting loads of anger pour into the music.

Treize paced toward Drive wanting to break his anger apart, but the hymn was so captivating, he crawled back to his original position and continued to soak him in. Drive had red bangs and auburn hair in the back shaved high up. His earrings dangled against each other inaudibly through the euphony. His lean, muscular arms leapt from one table to another making his baggy pants sway with the music. Drive noticed the vibrations up his legs the first time he spun at this set and was magnetically attracted to it. The limp sleeveless shirt flopped against his abs and exposed parts of his back. Treize took in the sight with the lick of his lips.

In another hour, his set was over and the club would close. The thought of leaving was rejected by his bones, so he spun as angry as he had the first couple hours. When the time came to leave, he spun the last scratched melody and lost sight of the seemingly inexhaustible blonde. Listlessly worn out, he trudged toward the door with his carton of vinyl as Treize caught him by the door by the shoulder. "Drive!"

He turned to the taller man, "Hn?"

"Can I help you with those?" he motioned toward the carton.

Drive shook his head and turned again to leave. He felt strange whenever he looked into his eyes.

Treize caught him by the shorter boy by the shoulder again. "Are you sure?" Treize pulled Drive against his body in the humid air. "I won't hurt you, you know," he said softly as his grasp became more of a caress. "Let's walk outside."

They walked out the door and to Drive's car. Drive watched the ground as they walked and sat his precious vinyls in the passenger seat. He refused to look at Treize, hurrying his paced to get into his car.

Treize caught him before he had that chance. The silent parking lot screamed through Drive's ears when Treize touched him as he soon did. Drive was brought into Treize's embrace with reddened cheeks. His back rested against Treize's firm stomach as he leaned down and whispered into his ear with wet lips. He felt his lips graze his ears as he spoke. "You were great tonight. Please reconsider and become my resident DJ. I'll pay you more than you are getting now. I'll give you anything you want. Another car," he clutched him even tighter as he whispered the last part. "More speed. Anything. You're so magnificent when you spin. And when you're not."

Drive's ears were on fire. All the things he desired except that blonde he saw today. He was considering giving in more than ever. Treize. Speed. More time to spin. He wanted only a few things, and here before him, he could have excess of them. He was becoming warm, too warm. Then Treize started placing soft kisses in his ears and down his neck. Drive's breath became heavy and he sunk into Treize's body as his earrings audibly jingled. Treize started to caress Trowa's body, his hands crawling ever so slowly downward. Then Trowa's mind gave a shrill howl. He vaulted out of Treize's embrace like an animal out of a snake's grasp. "You fag," he rebuffed and sat in his car. He still refused to meet his gaze.

Treize smiled at him and leaned into the car. He kissed Drive's forehead and said, "I'll miss you, too. Come back on Thursday."

"I don't work on Thursdays," he replied.

He stroked the back of Drive's head affectionately and uttered, "Lex is on vacation. I'll need you back tomorrow."

Drive started the car with a quiet grunt, swiping Treize's hand away. "Only for two hours."

"Sure," he touched Drive's cheek for a moment and retracted out of the car.

Drive drove out of the desolate parking lot and onto the two-laned highway. He took all the country highways back to his college over an hour away. His ears drank in the silence and drove Baby Fi to the best of her abilities. Her engine purred as sweetly as the day he bought her months ago. He was still paying for her, but she was worth every last penny. And every penny came from Treize.

Treize.

The very name almost made him cry with rage and craze. When it came to Treize, nothing made sense. He heated Drive's thoughts at night. He hungered for him, but needn't go looking for him. Treize was always there to pester him. "I can't be the resident DJ. I have classes. I will not drive this far almost everyday to be with . . . To work a "the Box". It shouldn't be work. But . . ." He thought about leaning against the older man's body moments prior. He knew Treize was thinking about fucking him right then and there. Treize dripped of pheromones. "Treize probably jerks off to recordings of my music," he chuckled to himself.

He pulled into his parking spot at quarter to five. He locked up his precious car and drug himself up the stairs of the quiet dorm and unlocked his door. His empty room reminded him of his empty stomach. The refrigerator was fruitful only for a day old veggie burger and a can of pop. He spent most of his money on a new set of turntables. Top of the line. Wolfing down the food, he reviewed a bit for the next day of classes. When he was done, he massaged his shoulders absent-mindedly. He lay down in bed and felt the shivers kick in. It'd been days since his last fix. He had been trying to quit, but Treize kept on giving it to him whenever he thought he was over it. "Fucking fa. . ." his thought stopped short as he blacked out into sleep.

The next morning, he awoke to the same damn annoying alarm clock with the obnoxious dramatic voice, "Wake up! Rise and shine!"

He pushed the button down and fell into his cloths for that day. The shivers seemed to halt for the time being, so he walked off to class stoically.

Classes went as they always did. Slowly. He enjoyed a couple on Thursdays, but definitely not English. It made no sense they had to study this drivel. 'Love and politics, that's all this crap is. Neither of them I need to hear about. Love doesn't make the world go round, money does,' he thought.

He picked up lunch from the Cafeteria and headed back to the Box. He was about half way through the trip, listening to his baby whine under his feet. She was a navy blue Viper with two white stripes going over the top of her. Drive loved her purr. His two favorite songs were "Blank page" by Smashing Pumpkins, a foreign melancholy band, and the purr of his car. She wasn't just his car, but his accomplice, his friend, and his chariot. He was absent-mindedly driving about seventy miles per hour down Route 6 when nothing happened.

Bang! Crunch! Pop! (Tumble, tumble, tumble) ". . . baby F-fi?" he stammered weakly.

Then the nothingness took his sight. Then his consciousness.

It had been about an hour before another driver drove by the disturbing mess smeared along the side of the dusty country highway. She called the cops and parked in front of the mess on the shoulder. She prayed to herself that this wasn't a rerun of all those driving horror stories she watched in driver's ed. years before. The shattered car lay upside-down in the grass below. She ran down to the small hill to marvel sadistically at all the blood trickling off of the driver's door. The closer to the driver she got, the more and more she wanted to throw up. The driver's hair was the color of blood and his right leg and chest were sticky with coagulated blood. Her hand rested on his shoulder and she shook him slightly, "Oi! Can you hear me? Please answer!"

She heard silence in return.

She shook him again. "Oi! The cops are coming with doctors, you're going to be okay!" she yelled at him. She could smell the powder from the airbag.

Nothing she did roused a noise.

Moments later, she heard the cops pulling around to the shoulder of the abandoned highway. She wiped the blood on her hand off on the car as the first cop rushed her away from the accident. They started asking her common questions after they got her into a cop car fifty feet away. The whole time they asked her anything, she just stared at the driver's unresponsive body. A humble broke into her stream of thoughts, "Huh?"

"Namae wa?"

"Dorothy."

"Where were you going when you happened across this?"

"I was heading over to my cousin's club on Route 76."

"When did you find the car?"

"About ten minutes ago."

"And you called right away?"

"Yes, yes I did."

"Thank you. Please give us your driver's license for some standard information and we'll let you go. Do you think you can drive in your condition?"

She thought for a moment and nodded, handing over the information. The cop took the card and walked to the other side of the car letting her see the boy being drug out of the car and onto a stretcher. "Yokatta!" she thought. "He's gonna be okay!"

Then she noticed his pale complexion. She held her breath. Then the cop came back and handed her her license. She accepted it and headed back to her car. Sighing, she didn't look back at the car, but continued on her journey to her cousin's. When she was about a minute away, she burst out into tears.

When she arrived, Treize was in his office at the back of the building, hunched over a stack of papers. Distracted by unfamiliar sniffling, he looked up to see his cousin standing limply, uncollected in the doorway with tears dripping off of her chin. "Treize!"

"Dorothy?" he straightened up. His rigid frown became a look of wonder. "What's wrong?"

Dorothy ran to him and feel into his grasp as he stood up. Her sobs leaked onto Treize's shirt weakly. She stammered through her story:

"I . . . was driv-ving to see-e you and um. . . There was this boy in a car on the side of route ss-even. He was-n-n't breath-hing when I got there, but um . . . the paramedics got tha-here and he was on the stretcher all pale un' st-huff. Treize! I think, he's de-ad!"

He soothed her wounded whining by holding her and pet her long platinum locks. "Shhh. It's okay. These things happen," he smiled to himself. He was glad she wasn't hurt, physically. "You're okay, right? That's all that matters for now. Shhh."

"B-but what if he's dead?!" she cried. "If I'd've gotten there sooner . . . he might've . . ."

"Even if you did, you've not a paramedic, so it wouldn't have mattered," he reassured her.

"No Treize! We gotta go to the hospital and see if he's okay! Come on! We gotta go! Please come with me Treize! Onegai!" she pleaded like a child.

"Dorothy! That won't solve anything! Think about it. We'll just be two more people in their waiting room. You don't even know this boy! Dorothy, forget it!" he nearly yelled.

"Demo, Treize!" she begged.

"If you're that eager to go, wait until the club's set up! I don't have enough people here to open the club by themselves. Give me two hours then I'll go with you. Okay?"

"Two hours?" she pouted.

"That's the best I can do," he lamented.

"Fine," she squawked. "I'll be in the back room taking a nap."

Treize smiled at her quick recovery and went back to filling out forms for the next month. "Hee."

The bouncers filed through the night's guests like men with katana. The beats of DJ Bounce raged through the air. The ravers weren't as convulsive as they were with Drive's music, but they still danced madly off of their fix.

Treize on the other hand paced the spinning box entrance waiting impatiently for Drive's arrival. He'd never, ever been this late. Drive showed even when he later threw up in the middle of spinning. Something was definitely off. Treize ran into his office and dialed Drive's dorm room number. Seven rings. No answer. Treize thought the possibilities over in his head, 'Okay, he could just be running late, he could just be late. Maybe the traffic was bad. No parking? Who am I kidding? We reserve a spot for him. Maybe he doesn't want to see me. I was more forward than usual with him last night. But he said he'd come!' He continued to rant to himself.

A rapping came at his dim office door. Dorothy stood with matted hair and her coat on. "Treize, can we go now?"

"Sure, sure. I just gotta call a couple more numbers," he answered trailing off.

"Hai," she sat in the extra chair in his office.

He dialed the number of his cel phone to get no answer. Lastly, in a final effort, he paged him. He never wore his beeper unless he was in class. After a few minutes, there was still no answer. He sighed in defeat.

Dorothy pulled him out of the office. Treize told the DJ to spin all night, and that he'd be back in a couple hours.

They headed down the same highway Dorothy took to get there in Treize's red 57' Firebird. His engine was much less quiet than Drive's but he liked things loud. When they reached the crash site, Dorothy pointed to the other side of the highway at the dark car on its hood. Treize cringed at the dead hunk of metal. "Ouch," he said.

"Yeah, that poor boy. He'll be okay. I know he will."

"Genki genki Dorothy-san."

"I know he'll be okay. He can't be dead." She reassured herself.

They walked briskly to the nurse's desk. A slim woman with corkscrew hair looked tiredly up at them. "Yes?"

Dorothy leaned over the desk after looking around the nearly deserted hospital waiting area. She didn't even see any doctors running around. "There was an accident earlier today and I was wondering if the boy who was in it was here."

The nurse smirked sarcastically. "He's in the emergency room right now. Are you a relative?"

She tried to hide her relief. "No, I called the cops when I saw the accident. Is he okay? Will he be okay? Please, you've got to tell me!"

The nurse sat back in her chair. "I can't tell you that information unless you're a relative. Or a friend of his."

"How long do you think the surgery will take? I just wanna know if he's gonna be okay. For heaven's sake, I'm the one that called the cops for him!" she was getting angry.

"Truly, miss, I can't tell you if he'll be okay or not. He's been in surgery for five hours now. Please sit down and I'll see what I can do."

They were compliant but not without frustration. Dorothy leaned against Treize's shoulder and waited for a doctor or someone to pass by.

About half an hour later a doctor with a spectacular amount of blood on her scrubs walked up to the nurse. "Une, I'm taking a vacation."

The nurse squinted at the doctor. "Noin, you look so tired! You should go home. How did the surgeries go? These two are here to find out if the boy's okay. The young lady says she's the one who phoned the accident in."

The doctor walked up to Treize and Dorothy was an embarrassed grin on her fatigued face. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry about my appearance. It's been a long day."

Dorothy nearly jumped her. "Is he okay?! Will he live?"

Noin jumped back, "Oh, um, we did a number of surgeries on him. If he lives through the night, I'd say, he'll pulled through. The paramedics said he'd been lying there for an hour before anyone got there. He was bleeding heavily and passed out after a while. Thanks to his strong body, he was strong enough to stay alive during that hour. If he can handle that, I'd say he could pull though. That is, if he gets through tonight."

"How was he injured?" Treize asked.

"Part of the steering wheel stabbed him in the stomach and part of the innards of the dashboard went through his leg. We spent a large amount of time getting bits of plastic out of his wounds."

"Will he be okay? I mean, where those things fixed?" Dorothy asked.

"Oh, yes. We had to patch the whole in his stomach; and we put his leg back together, just right. With a lot of work, he'll pull through. If you don't mind, I'd like to go home and sleep," she yawned.

"Oh, yes. Thank you!" Dorothy cried again.

"Thank you, miss," Treize added.

Dorothy returned to crying joyfully and hugging Treize as the doctor left.

"May we go see him?" Treize asked the nurse.

Then nurse wagged her head. "Not until the morning."

Dorothy nearly strangled the woman. "What?! Didn't you hear? He might not survive the night!"

"Yes, but he needs lots of sleep. You folks should go home and get some sleep. You can come back in the morning."

Dorothy was about to argue, then Treize pulled her toward the door. "Come on, Dorothy. I gotta get back to the club."

Treize sat in his desk after the club closed. 'Drive never showed up,' was his only thought. He ceased his morbid thoughts and watched Dorothy sleep in the room across from the office. 'She sure cares a lot about a boy she doesn't even know. Poor boy. I hope he pulls through. Dorothy, selfless Dorothy,' he thought kissing her sleepy forehead.

Treize woke up sitting at his desk with a stiff neck. "Er", he moaned. The clock read 10:00, but he body said it was 5:00. He stretched and walked over to the drooling Dorothy. His footsteps made her wipe the pool of drool from his cheek and rise to face the morning. "Treize, we gotta go back to the hospital."

He sat next to her and nodded. "I know, let's go back to my place and freshen up first. Do you want him to see him with morning hair?"

Dorothy lazily pushed him a little. "Iiko?"

They approached a new nurse and asked to see the boy. She asked a couple questions and showed them to the room. As they were walking closer and closer to the door, Treize felt a tug at one of his heartstrings. "What's wrong?" Dorothy asked. He walked a bit faster than the others and paced into the open door. To his horror, he saw his precious Drive lying there with a swelled stomach and thigh in bulky bandages. "Drive!" he said coarsely and ran to his side. He lay in the white bed with white sheets over him. His face was as stoic as ever. His breath was slow, but apparent. Treize berated himself, 'Of course! He didn't show up to work, he didn't answer the calls. I was so stupid! He was on the highway he takes to get to the Box. Why? Why did it have to be him! Why did it have to be Drive?' His thoughts were almost too much, but he hid his tears for Dorothy.

Dorothy trotted in and reported, "She said we can only stay for an hour . . ." She saw the look on Treize's face. Shear sadness. She cantered up next to him with a melancholy frown. "They told me his name was Trowa Barton, but I didn't want to believe it. At first, I tried to convince myself it was a different Trowa. It wasn't Drive. Poor Trowa. He looks so peaceful though."

"Dorothy, I'm staying here. I'll call you when he wakes up, okay?" Treize said.

Dorothy just left Treize to his silence. He climbed next to Drive on the bed then carefully wiped the hair from his eyes. He never got to see both of Drive's eyes. They were so silent when they were shut. Whenever he spun, they seemed to radiate energy, anger, and harmony. Now, he lay quietly with a swollen belly looking very haggard. 'Has he been running on so little energy every time he came to the club?' he thought. "Trowa," he spoke to the broken body beside him. "I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry if you never want to speak to me again. I'm sorry if I've pushed you in any way. At the very least, you've okay now." The tears couldn't be held back anymore. Treize touched Trowa's face delicately. "I'm so sorry Trowa. I'll wait humbly at your side until you heal completely. Then, if you want me to leave, I will. I'll never harass you again. But, when you wake up, I'll tell you that I love you once more." He leaned down and let his lips soak Trowa's taste into them. Trowa's lips were so warm, so welcoming. "You'd never let me kiss you if you were awake. I can only hope one day you will." He let the last few words roll off his tongue again, "One day."

Treize sat in the corner chair and watched his beloved's profile until he fell into the dreamscape.

Drive awoke in a sweat. His eyes sweat all over his face. He opened his eyes and reached up to touch his eyes. 'These are my tears . . .? I cried?' he thought to himself. 'Why was I crying?'

His body convulsed and he leaned to the side to throw up over the side of the bed. His stomach cried out in agony. His eyes drifted to his stomach as he wiped the puke from his cheek. It was puffed up. His hand reached down and pulled up the robe. His eyes widened. A four-inch line of torn tissue pulled back together again by blue plastic thread. A couple of other small incisions were sewn shut around the first. To him it looked like a root. Then he tried to move his leg, which rewarded him with white agony. It shot up his leg, through his pelvis and to the base of his skull. He fought not to scream and release the agony into the air above. After an eternity the anguish subsided. Then the accident hit him again. 'Why am I not dead?' he reasoned. He remembered the flash of a person standing in the middle of the road. Drive spun the steering wheel to the left sharply to avoid hitting the lunatic in the middle of the road. The only feature he remembered was the blonde hair. It reminded him of the boy at the Box he was watching the night before. He wished whole-heartedly that the same boy would be back the next night for him to watch from the booth again. At that moment, He spotted Treize's sleeping figure in the corner chair under the TV. "Treize?" he sat up to the protest of his body. He felt a trifle sweaty, wanting to leave desperately. Due to his injuries, he sat quietly and watched him sleep hesitantly. 'If he wakes up, should I act like I'm asleep? Should I talk to him?' he thought to himself. This way, he could look at Treize's face without being embarrassed or ashamed. Every time he looked at him, he was afraid of looking like a fool. 'I am a fool,' he thought.

Treize stirred awake and stretched broadly toward the ceiling. Then he opened his eyes. Drive sat there staring back at him with a blank expression. 'I knew it,' Treize thought. 'He doesn't like me.'

Drive continued to stare absently at him as he thought about what action he could possibly make. Unconsciously, he rubbed the back of his neck.

Treize slowly walked toward him. "Does it hurt?" he asked.

He shook his head and cast his eyes down to the comforter. He couldn't look at his open eyes anymore.

Treize sat next to Drive again, near his left leg.

Without anticipating his words, he muttered, "You can call me Trowa." Trowa caught his mouth with his hand. 'Why did I say that?' he thought.

"What?" Treize asked. 'Did he hear me talking to me before?' he thought. "Do you not like it when people call you Drive?"

He looked a bit higher on Treize's anatomy with a pounding heart. Treize's hand lie close to his knee. He half-heartedly wished for the touch, then became disgusted with himself. "It's fine. I just . . ." he paused to look a bit higher, at his shoulder. "I'd like for you to call me Trowa."

Treize gave a Lilliputian smile. "Yes, Trowa."

"Did they say I can leave yet?" he asked.

Treize was taken back. "Leave? Trowa, you're seriously hurt. You'll be here for another week at least. Rest," he pushed Trowa back down by the chest cautiously. Trowa leaned back and grabbed Treize's hand. He felt his cheeks go warm. Treize gasped, but let Trowa touch his arm. After a moment of stillness, Treize pulled away and stared out of the window. "You need your sleep. Do you want me to leave?"

Trowa shook his head again, "Onegai, stay." He looked directly at Treize's smiling profile with cherry cheeks. "I . . ."

Treize turned to him with a cheery smile. "I'll stay then, but shhh. You need sleep more than anything you can request of me now." He returned to his seat in the corner and gazed at Trowa's sleepy complexion. Trowa was even more beautiful than when he was spinning at that moment. He was staring directly into Treize's eyes with flushed cheeks. The scratches and bumps covering his body didn't matter in the least; he was still the most beautiful thing Treize had set his gaze upon. 'How can I show you that if you keep me so far away? One day,' he thought to himself.

Trowa let his eyelids fall and Dream came upon him once more. He dreamt about a blue room. There was a single sand-colored flower in a vase in the opposite corner. The leaves around it had died, but the flower perched happily in the center. Trowa walked timidly toward it and saw vague lettering on a petal. His long fingers pulled the petal off and read the simple text: One day.

The nurturing gaze of the sun was fading in the distance as Trowa pulled his rag-tag body into a hunker. His dry fingers rubbed his eyes gently. The welts and minor lacerations of the past day had subsided for the most part, but his gut still ached of unknown physical pain. It felt like the big bad wolf. Someone had taken his stomach out and put a rock there instead. His body rolled to his right side where an unfamiliar blonde slumped quietly by Treize. The shiver of a memory rolled against the back of his brain. "Aren't you . . .?"

She sat up and nudged Treize out of the article he was reading. "Drive? Are you okay?" she question sympathetically.

He clutched his stomach lightly and muttered, "I'm okay except for this."

"Yokatta! Oh, gomen. I'm Dorothy, Treize's cousin. I'm afraid we haven't formally met. My cousin speaks very highly of you."

Drive didn't know how to take that last statement, but hushed his suspicions. "Oh. Yoroshiku."

"Hn. Hajimemashite. I brought you a sandwich, but the nurse said you can't eat solids for a week, so I got you a shake. Treize said you liked strawberry kiwi. Doozo," she handed it to him.

"Doomo," he began sipping it gingerly. "I swear I know you from somewhere."

"Oh," she became a little less cheery. "I was the one who found you by the side of the highway. I was on my way to visit my cousin here. I'm lucky I found you."

"On the contrary, I'm lucky you found me," he replied. He figured it'd be better to be more talkative with the one who saved his hide. "Doomo arigato gozaimasu," he bowed his head a little.

She blushed and giggled, "It was nothing,"

Treize finally interrupted. "Trowa, I'll have to be heading home in about a bit, but I'll be back tomorrow. Dorothy can stay with you. Is that okay?"

Trowa wagged his head a little. "I understand. You have to take care of the club."

"Good. Do you want anything?" he asked.

He nodded once he thought of his also precious manga. Treize would find his Shounen Ai manga if he looked in the bag hard enough, but that was a chance he was willing to take. He needed to find out if Chichiri would just confess his love to Tasuki or die alone. Trowa couldn't stand the suspense! "Hai. Could you bring me my book bag?"

"Isn't that in you car?" he asked confused.

Trowa hadn't thought about his car until that moment and he nearly started crying. The displeasure showed in his face slightly. He looked up at Treize, who frowned and nodded slightly. "I'm afraid it's totaled."

Trowa stared at his leg with a deep frown. "Get all my stuff out of the car and have her towed to my college."

Treize and Dorothy's heads tilted, "What for?"

"I'm going to fix her," he said assertively.

Part 2