"No, no," Wufei gently admonished him, "you don't press hard. Just hold them gently."

Quatre sighed in despair and watched as Wufei demonstrated. He turned to the side to see if Trowa was having the same problem, and instead found his tall boyfriend easily manipulating the chopsticks. His slender fingers gracefully moved the thin shafts of wood around, picking up tiny clumps of rice from the carry-out box.

"But they're so long," Quatre grumbled. "They keep slipping."

"Look," Wufei started, setting his own box down and sliding his hand over Quatre's. He placed the chopsticks correctly between Quatre's fingers and helped him dip the sticks in, pulling out one small bit of spiced meat out. Moving gingerly and terrified he would drop it, Quatre leaned forward as Wufei helped push his hand up. The result was a bit of spicy sauce at the very tip of his nose, but at least when he "eep'd" and sat back, he was finally in range to get a bite in.

Trowa bit down his chuckle and darted close, kissing away the sauce as Quatre blushed. "You'll get the hang of it."

Quatre screwed his face up in intense concentration and tried to repeat the maneuver, but once again his grip was too hard. His fingers slipped and the chopsticks went flying through the air, one soaring out the open window and the other landing in the aquarium. "Argh!"

Wufei's shoulders shook as he struggled to hold his laughter in. Quatre noticed, however, and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Wufei, you laugh and you're sleeping on the couch."

The Chinese pilot just smirked and got up, heading for the kitchen. "Perhaps I should get you a fork."

Quatre pouted and crossed his arms, more upset at the chopsticks than his lover. "Stupid sticks...oughtta sharpen them, then I could just spear my food!"

"And how would you eat rice?" Trowa asked, picking up a long strip of beef.

"One at a time," Quatre said firmly, but he was starting to laugh, too.

"You can never stay angry for very long," Trowa smiled. "If you're really hungry, though..." He placed the strip of spiced beef between his teeth and leaned closer to Quatre, who giggled but still followed suit, putting his lips around it and pulling it away from Trowa.

"I cannot leave you two alone for five seconds, can I?" Wufei griped, tossing a fork into Quatre's lap. "Here's your silverware, though I doubt you need it."

"I think Wufei's jealous," Trowa teased.

"Are you jealous?" Quatre grinned, leaning against Wufei and nuzzling his throat. "You know I love you, too."

Wufei made a little grumble, but both his lovers knew he couldn't stay irate long. He gave in almost immediately, ruffling the blonde hair. "Yes...I know...I love you both so much..."

"It's funny to think," Trowa started, "that everyone else believes you're such a cold-hearted dragon..."

"And you're really just a warm fuzzy!" Quatre chirped, looking up at him with wide blue eyes.

Wufei was about to tease them back, but as he gazed into Quatre's eyes, his loving look turned to one of concern, and he brought his hands up to Quatre's face, holding him still. "Trowa, look at this. Am I seeing things?"

"What's wrong?" Quatre asked in a worried voice.

Not knowing what to expect, Trowa came around and stared at his blonde lover, who was now quite confused. "What is it?"

"His eyes," Wufei answered. "Do they seem red to you?"

Trowa nodded slowly. "Pink, mostly, but around the corners, they're really turning red. Quatre, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Quatre said in a hurt tone, pulling back.

"I don't like the way this looks," Trowa sighed. "Whatever it is, it looks like it's spreading. Let's get him to the hospital."

"The hospital?!" Wufei and Quatre gasped at the same time.

Trowa groaned and stared sternly at them. "Yes, the hospital. I know you both hate going there, but please don't make me carry you over my shoulder. We're going." The last words were stated in a no-nonsense voice that promised mild violence if he was not immediately obeyed.

Pausing for just a moment, Quatre was about to bolt to the safety of their bedroom, which he could lock. Unfortunately, Wufei abruptly got up and swept Quatre into his arms, hugging him protectively. "Very well, but if I don't like what they prescribe, we try a Chinese doctor first."

"Agreed," Trowa nodded, relieved Wufei had agreed so readily.

"No shots!" Quatre cried. "And no acupuncture!"

"We'll see," Trowa said, careful not to promise anything.

******

"I've looked over Mr. Winner's medical files," the doctor started off, setting the small stack of papers on the table. "It seems you've had problems with your eyes before?"

Quatre, who was seated on the blue bed with the strip of paper across it, nodded dismally. At least I didn't have to get undressed, he tried to comfort himself as he fidgeted between his lovers, who wisely held him still. "But I haven't had any problems lately."

"Well, you've got major irritation now," the doctor said, doing nothing to set Quatre at ease. "Here, let me see." He shone a harsh light into Quatre's eyes, searching for stray particles or dust. "Hmm...I don't see anything. For this kind of damage, you must have caught something really big and cried it out."

Wufei, standing on Quatre's left side, nodded in understanding. "Disney World," he said to Trowa, who also nodded. "On all those roller coasters."

"But I didn't get anything in my eyes then," Quatre protested.

"Your eyes are sensitive, Mr. Winner," the doctor said. "Maybe you didn't pick anything up, but the high winds generated on a coaster could scratch your eyes."

"Come to think of it," Trowa added, "he did tear up a bit at the show."

"I should have known," Wufei griped. "No one gets overly sentimental at Mulan."

"Well, it was Quatre," Trowa sighed.

"Hey!"

"I'm guessing this trip to Disney was only a couple days ago?" the doctor asked.

They all nodded.

"I don't have to get a shot, do I?" Quatre asked in a tiny voice.

The doctor laughed at the timid question. "No, no, just some eye drops. Let me just write you a prescription." He scrawled something illegible on his notepad and handed it to Trowa, who frowned and showed it to Wufei. The Chinese boy threw a startled glance at the doctor.

"Zhen po din?" he asked, wondering if his language had changed so much that it was unrecognizable to him.

"Zetapraxadrine," the doctor said crossly. "My handwriting isn't that bad."

As the doctor left in a huff, Quatre smiled at his lovers. "Um, can we go now?"

They both let go of his arms, no longer needing to hold him from running away. "Let's go get those drops while we're here," Trowa said, glancing at Wufei. "Unless you still want to go find a Chinese doctor?"

Wufei shook his head. "This will do."

Quatre beamed gleefully at them. "No shots!"

They walked out of the office and headed down the hall to the prescription waiting room, where they took a number and sat down in the back. There were only a handful of other people in the waiting room, but old habits died hard, and the trio instinctively wanted to keep the wall at their back.

"Now, Quatre," Wufei started.

Quatre sighed, knowing exactly what was coming.

"What did he mean by previous eye trouble?"

"Please don't make me say," Quatre begged. "It's embarrassing,"

"We promise not to laugh," Trowa assured him. "But we need to know."

"It...was a long time ago," Quatre reluctantly began. "When I was still a kid."

The few people within earshot glanced up at him, somewhat confused. They all looked like kids to them. Wufei noticed their looks and glared fiercely, forcing them to either bury themselves back in their year old magazines or take new seats altogether.

"My sisters...at least the five youngest, they liked to play dress up. And since I looked a lot like a girl..."

Trowa nuzzled his cheek. "Still do."

Quatre smirked, his mood brightening, and continued. "They made me join in. My father hated it, but they were careful to do it when he left on business, which was pretty often..." he shook his head and got back to his stories. "Anyway, I couldn't have been too old, just over five, I think. And Anna, she was always kind of clumsy, she wanted to dab me with perfume...but she aimed wrong and nailed my eyes. They tried to stop my crying and hide it by rinsing my eyes out in the bathroom sink. No one noticed how bad my eyes were hurt for hours, when my older sister Raina found me crying in my room."

Quatre broke off as he finally noticed he was now caught up in two embraces, but he just smiled and soaked up the attention. "Come on, it happened years ago. I'm fine now."

"My poor angel," Trowa sighed.

"That must have hurt so much," Wufei echoed.

Quatre shrugged but he didn't push them away. "In any case, that's why I usually have my goggles with me. If there's too much dust...or really high winds...but it didn't feel so bad on the roller coasters, it really didn't!"

"You're eyes might not be so red now if you'd worn sunglasses," Trowa said softly. "To keep most of the wind off."

"You should have said something," Wufei added. "This must have been bothering you for awhile."

Quatre shrugged noncommittally, about to say something when their number was called. Trowa went up to get the eye drops, and Quatre snuggled close to Wufei. "I hate eye drops," he whimpered.

Wufei smiled and kissed him. "We'll make you feel better after you take them," he promised, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. "Much better."

Quatre grinned. "I'll hold you to that."

"So will I," Trowa smiled. "Let's hope you're well rested, dragon."

Somewhat daunted at the thought of having to please two very demanding lovers, Wufei grumbled in the back of his throat. "Are you sure we can't find someone to give him a shot?"

The End