flashfic for Anne
A belated birthday present for darthanne. ♥
title:This Is The Day
fandom: Gundam Wing
pairing: Trowa/Quatre
rating: PG-13ish
The movie was about halfway through when Trowa pulled the ol' stretch maneuver - pretended to yawn, stretched his arms out, let one fall conveniently along Quatre's shoulders - oh-so-casual-like.
In the movie theater half-light, Trowa could see Quatre's wry smile. "Smooth," Quatre whispered.
"Thanks," Trowa whispered back. "I've been practicing."
Quatre snorted quietly - quiet enough not to disturb anyone else in the theater. He moved the arm between their seats up, out of the way. God forbid his snuggling time should feel more like an uncomfortable poke in the ribcage, and when that was done Quatre snuggled in closer, resting his head in the crook of Trowa's neck, and it was right then that Trowa realized - sudden-clarity moment - that this was it. This was someday. The someday he'd always told himself he was living for, when he'd have a someone and a future to spend with that someone. This was the normal-thing that he'd always wondered about, craved. Quatre's hair was brushing against his cheek, close enough to smell his shampoo, and Quatre's hand rested on Trowa's knee, and this was suddenly the normal-thing, out of the blue.
Trowa found himself watching Quatre's face more than the movie - watching the way the color-light from the screen played against Quatre's skin - and the way his heart twisted just-so made Trowa wonder when all this normal had happened. It made him wonder if normal was really right for him; if he had a right to normal. He wondered about what he had a right to and wondered at how easily Quatre felt like right, and then his inner cynic wondered when his life had become a freakin' chick flick...
The color-light turned Quatre's skin orange-red - something had exploded on the screen, loudly and with great gusto. Quatre smiled a little, partially at the screen, partially at the feeling of Trowa watching him, and for a moment Trowa wondered what a chick flick directed by Dorothy would look like, or by Noin. There would probably be explosions. Lots of explosions. Trowa smiled a little, too, half-hearing Duo's voice in the back of his head, saying "Things what go boom are cool..." with that drawling dragging-out of the last word. Yeah - Dorothy or Noin would have things what went boom and maybe things what went fast, too - sports cars and mobile suits to go with the explosions and guns.
Trowa covered Quatre's hand on his knee with his own hand, squeezed and finger-threaded with him. Chick flicks with sports cars and mobile suits and explosions and guns - that was doable, Trowa thought. That was okay, to have as their normal.
*end*
title:This Is The Day
fandom: Gundam Wing
pairing: Trowa/Quatre
rating: PG-13ish
The movie was about halfway through when Trowa pulled the ol' stretch maneuver - pretended to yawn, stretched his arms out, let one fall conveniently along Quatre's shoulders - oh-so-casual-like.
In the movie theater half-light, Trowa could see Quatre's wry smile. "Smooth," Quatre whispered.
"Thanks," Trowa whispered back. "I've been practicing."
Quatre snorted quietly - quiet enough not to disturb anyone else in the theater. He moved the arm between their seats up, out of the way. God forbid his snuggling time should feel more like an uncomfortable poke in the ribcage, and when that was done Quatre snuggled in closer, resting his head in the crook of Trowa's neck, and it was right then that Trowa realized - sudden-clarity moment - that this was it. This was someday. The someday he'd always told himself he was living for, when he'd have a someone and a future to spend with that someone. This was the normal-thing that he'd always wondered about, craved. Quatre's hair was brushing against his cheek, close enough to smell his shampoo, and Quatre's hand rested on Trowa's knee, and this was suddenly the normal-thing, out of the blue.
Trowa found himself watching Quatre's face more than the movie - watching the way the color-light from the screen played against Quatre's skin - and the way his heart twisted just-so made Trowa wonder when all this normal had happened. It made him wonder if normal was really right for him; if he had a right to normal. He wondered about what he had a right to and wondered at how easily Quatre felt like right, and then his inner cynic wondered when his life had become a freakin' chick flick...
The color-light turned Quatre's skin orange-red - something had exploded on the screen, loudly and with great gusto. Quatre smiled a little, partially at the screen, partially at the feeling of Trowa watching him, and for a moment Trowa wondered what a chick flick directed by Dorothy would look like, or by Noin. There would probably be explosions. Lots of explosions. Trowa smiled a little, too, half-hearing Duo's voice in the back of his head, saying "Things what go boom are cool..." with that drawling dragging-out of the last word. Yeah - Dorothy or Noin would have things what went boom and maybe things what went fast, too - sports cars and mobile suits to go with the explosions and guns.
Trowa covered Quatre's hand on his knee with his own hand, squeezed and finger-threaded with him. Chick flicks with sports cars and mobile suits and explosions and guns - that was doable, Trowa thought. That was okay, to have as their normal.
*end*