GW, Trowa x Quatre, challenge #11
title: Better Than Roses
author: windsor blue
pairing: Quatre Raberba Winner and Trowa Barton
fandom: Gundam Wing
theme: #11 - gardenia
rating: PG
with thanks to thejennabides, for the read-through and the title. ♥
disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If you do, then be happy and well in the knowledge that you make more money in a week than I have in my entire working life, and that you have much better, bigger and more important things to do with your time than hassle me.
It was stupid - he had been stupid - and he knew he'd been stupid and childish and a hundred other adjectives that all equaled owing Quatre an apology. But he wanted to do it right. He wanted to apologize so Quatre knew he really meant it.
That was where the flowers came in.
Trowa was pretty pleased with himself about the flowers. They smelled like one of Cathy's perfumes, large white blossoms and dark green leaves - they were pretty, but not girly like roses, or the bright pink carnations he'd considered - briefly - just because they were not-roses.
So when Trowa got home, the first thing he did was take Quatre's hand and apologize, and when Quatre smiled and said "apology accepted", Trowa handed him the gardenias. Quatre smiled more, brought the flowers up to his nose, and sniffed.
"These smell lovely..." Quatre began, and then he sneezed.
"Bless you," Trowa said.
"Thanks," Quatre replied, and then he sneezed again.
Trowa frowned. "Are you coming down with something?"
"No, I... *ah-choo*...feel fine, actually... *ah-choo!*...not sure what's...*ah-CHOO!* brought this on." Quatre sniffled. When he smiled at Trowa again his eyes were red and itchy-watery-looking.
"Are you allergic to these?" Trowa asked.
"Not that I...*AH-CHOO!*...know of..." Quatre said. His voice was starting to sound scratchy, phlegmy.
"You're allergic to them," Trowa said. His shoulders began to slump. "I should have just gotten the roses..."
"No, I like these, really!" Quatre sneezed three times, one right after another. "They're pretty, and they smell better than...better than...roses..." Quatre punctuated his point by letting out the loudest sneeze Trowa had ever heard.
"And you're allergic to them," Trowa said.
"No, I'm...*ah-choo!*...ah, hell." Quatre took the flowers, hastily shoved them into the nearest empty glass as a makeshift vase, and took the whole business out onto their apartment's balcony. And when he came back in and gave Trowa a smile, Quatre said, "I really do like them."
"Except for the instant sneezing part," Trowa said. There was no hiding the note of disappointment in his voice.
Quatre stepped closer, placed his hands over Trowa's cheeks, and kissed him - one of those slow-gentle-promise kisses, long and sweet. And when the kiss was over, Quatre said, "Thank you for the flowers."
"You're welcome," Trowa said, just starting to smile.
author: windsor blue
pairing: Quatre Raberba Winner and Trowa Barton
fandom: Gundam Wing
theme: #11 - gardenia
rating: PG
with thanks to thejennabides, for the read-through and the title. ♥
disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If you do, then be happy and well in the knowledge that you make more money in a week than I have in my entire working life, and that you have much better, bigger and more important things to do with your time than hassle me.
It was stupid - he had been stupid - and he knew he'd been stupid and childish and a hundred other adjectives that all equaled owing Quatre an apology. But he wanted to do it right. He wanted to apologize so Quatre knew he really meant it.
That was where the flowers came in.
Trowa was pretty pleased with himself about the flowers. They smelled like one of Cathy's perfumes, large white blossoms and dark green leaves - they were pretty, but not girly like roses, or the bright pink carnations he'd considered - briefly - just because they were not-roses.
So when Trowa got home, the first thing he did was take Quatre's hand and apologize, and when Quatre smiled and said "apology accepted", Trowa handed him the gardenias. Quatre smiled more, brought the flowers up to his nose, and sniffed.
"These smell lovely..." Quatre began, and then he sneezed.
"Bless you," Trowa said.
"Thanks," Quatre replied, and then he sneezed again.
Trowa frowned. "Are you coming down with something?"
"No, I... *ah-choo*...feel fine, actually... *ah-choo!*...not sure what's...*ah-CHOO!* brought this on." Quatre sniffled. When he smiled at Trowa again his eyes were red and itchy-watery-looking.
"Are you allergic to these?" Trowa asked.
"Not that I...*AH-CHOO!*...know of..." Quatre said. His voice was starting to sound scratchy, phlegmy.
"You're allergic to them," Trowa said. His shoulders began to slump. "I should have just gotten the roses..."
"No, I like these, really!" Quatre sneezed three times, one right after another. "They're pretty, and they smell better than...better than...roses..." Quatre punctuated his point by letting out the loudest sneeze Trowa had ever heard.
"And you're allergic to them," Trowa said.
"No, I'm...*ah-choo!*...ah, hell." Quatre took the flowers, hastily shoved them into the nearest empty glass as a makeshift vase, and took the whole business out onto their apartment's balcony. And when he came back in and gave Trowa a smile, Quatre said, "I really do like them."
"Except for the instant sneezing part," Trowa said. There was no hiding the note of disappointment in his voice.
Quatre stepped closer, placed his hands over Trowa's cheeks, and kissed him - one of those slow-gentle-promise kisses, long and sweet. And when the kiss was over, Quatre said, "Thank you for the flowers."
"You're welcome," Trowa said, just starting to smile.