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It's been a long few days by the time Trowa makes it to the motel room where the others are staying, but all of his fatigue is wiped away when he opens the door and Quatre immediately leaps into his arms, wrapping both legs around his waist and grabbing his face to kiss him aggressively. Quatre tastes like cumin and chickpeas, and smells like cheap motel soap and engine oil - as they all tend to, when they're on the run - and Trowa thinks he could get drunk off the cocktail of it.
"I missed you," Quatre says when he finally draws back, Trowa's face still held firmly between his palms. "Subhanallah, it's good to see you. I missed you so much."
"I missed you too," says Trowa, a rare admission. He kicks the door shut behind him and carries Quatre to the bed, where Heero and Duo are already curled up together.
In spite of being wrapped up in all four of Heero's limbs, Duo insists on wriggling free enough to lean up for a kiss, even though - judging from the thick layer of bandages wrapped around his ribcage - he probably shouldn't be moving around too much.
Heero seems to be of the same opinion. "Lie down."
"I was just saying hi," Duo complains, falling back against the pillow with a pout.
Trowa gives a soft, amused huff. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing," says Duo, at the same time that Quatre says, "Broken ribs," and Heero says, "He drove a car into a building."
Trowa winces. It's easy to forget, in the giddy glow of being together again, that any one of them might not make it to their next rendezvous.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine," Duo insists. "Come down here and kiss me."
Trowa kicks off his shoes and climbs into the bed, dipping his head to give Duo a proper kiss hello. "Scoot."
Even a king size bed isn't really big enough for four gangly teenagers to share - it's even harder when all five of them are together, but Wufei is running with Sally's gang right now and won't be meeting them at the motel - but they make do somehow, scrunching together in a tangle of limbs and bony elbows. None of them want to sleep apart from the others. Not when their time together is already so limited.
Only hours later, someone's phone rings.
"Tell them no," groans Duo without opening his eyes.
Quatre wriggles out of Trowa's arms and checks the phone on the bedside table. "It's not me."
"Yuy," says Heero's voice on the other side of the bed, and Trowa cranes his neck to see Heero sitting up with his phone to his ear.
The room is very quiet as Heero listens. At last, he says, "Affirmative," and snaps the phone shut again.
"Heero, noooooo," Duo whines before Heero has a chance to say anything. "Tell J I'm injured. I need backup. You can't go."
"How long will you be gone?" asks Quatre, the note of pleading in his voice echoing Duo's protest.
"I don't know." Heero is already disentangling himself from the cuddle pile, yanking on his clothes and gathering up his gear to shove into his go bag. "I'll call when I have more information." He swoops down to press a kiss to Duo's forehead before heading out the door.
"And there he goes," sighs Duo, slumping down against the pillows.
"Maybe it'll only be for a few hours," Quatre consoles. "Try to sleep. He might be back by the time you wake up."
"Right." Duo's tone is doubtful, but he complains no further and just settles back against Trowa, who wraps both arms carefully around him.
Trowa nuzzles the back of Duo's neck. He doesn't have anything reassuring to say; all he can do for any of them is hang onto them for as long as he can.