seventhe: (Default)
unfortunate hobo ([personal profile] seventhe) wrote 2012-03-09 02:23 am (UTC)

He’s still in his work clothes, and now he’s covered in dust and Trowa’s fitted sheet is only halfway on, and only eighteen volumes of Lord Vortalon! And The Terrible Wormhole Accident have been chronologically shelved, and Quatre suddenly doesn’t care. He flies on stocking feet and almost slides past the door. The knob wrenches open and Trowa’s standing there, his hand hovering near the doorbell, as Quatre catches his balance on the slippery floor and looks up, flushed bright red. Trowa’s eyes are the tiniest bit wide and, judging by the tension in his mouth, he’s holding in a laugh.

“Don’t say a word,” Quatre warns him, and Trowa’s composure breaks; his lips curl upwards in amused relaxation. “Come on in.”

Trowa steps in and closes the door behind himself, quiet and graceful. He is wearing jeans and a turtleneck and a camel jacket, and is carrying the smallest weekend bag Quatre has ever seen over his shoulder; then again, this is Trowa, who once carried out an entire week-long mission with only an apple and some spare change. “Hi,” Trowa says.

“Hi,” Quatre says. He’s dumbly breathless. Trowa always does this to him, at first, when he’s never sure if he’s allowed to give a hug, or if they should just stare at each other through suddenly-thick air, or if he should just give everything up and draw Trowa down for a kiss. Eventually they settle into each other, always, but these first moments between them are excruciating. “Thanks for coming out. I think you’re the only one.”

“Thanks for having me,” Trowa says with a smile that’s both gentle and amused. “The circus is actually off for this holiday. I was hoping you’d be out here.”

“I’d take all eight days if I could,” Quatre says as he sticks his hands in his pockets. “Do that many people celebrate it?”

“Ringmaster’s Jewish,” Trowa says, and he makes a gesture to set his duffle on the floor.

“Oh,” Quatre says, making an abortive handwave and turning to head back down the hallway. “Come on in, you can throw that in your room. Although I’ve got Lord Vortalon all over.”

Trowa follows him in silence, seeming uninterested – but then when they get to the room, he hears Trowa’s low surprised chuckle. “You do not have a full set of Lord Vortalon just lying around this house.”

“I don’t know if I do,” Quatre says slowly. “Is this a significant – how do you know Lord Vortalon?”


Post a comment in response:

If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting