Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Just One Thing ❯ Chapter 2
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: deathangel125 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.27.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 326 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.27.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 326 | Status: Work In Progress
See warnings in first part!!
The phone ringing in his ear pulled Trowa out of a very intense – and pleasant - dream starring a man he had never even spoke to. Cursing the invention of the phone in his mind, he fumbled for the offending device without opening his eyes. “‘Lo?”
“Good morning, Trowa! Did I wake you?”
He winced at the bubbly voice that greeted him. Even though he and Quatre had known each other for years, they had never agreed about a reasonable time to be up in the morning. While Quatre was wide awake by six, Trowa felt that it was a crime against humanity to crawl out of bed before nine – and that was with a full night of sleep, something he had not had the night before. With a grunt, he raised his head and forced his eyes open just enough to squint at the clock. “Quatre, it’s just a few minutes after eight. D’you think I was awake?” he groaned, letting his head flop back to the pillow.
“I’m really sorry for waking you, but my friend just called and is on his way. He wants to eat breakfast before he goes home.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“Trowa, I really want you to meet him,” the blonde’s voice took on a pleading tone. “He’s a really nice guy and I think the two of you could be friends if you let him have a chance.”
“You aren’t trying to set me up with this guy, are you?” Trowa was suspicious, even in his half-asleep state. It wouldn’t be the first time Quatre had set him up with someone without giving him warning.
There was a light laugh, “No. I don’t think you’re his type, or he yours, for that matter. I just wanted to introduce the two of you. Besides, he does live here. He can give you a more detailed account of the place than I can. He might even be able to tell you the best places to visit for your next book if you can give him an idea what you want.”
The suggestion helped Trowa wake up a bit more. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was an excellent idea. Quatre visited New Orleans often, but was mainly familiar with the tourist attractions. Someone that actually lived there should have more knowledge. “What time do you want me there?”
“Pretty soon, I guess. He’s supposed to be here at nine-thirty. That way you can get here before he does and can get some coffee in you,” the last was added with a chuckle.
“I’ll be there after I take a shower,” he sighed, pulling himself out of bed. “But the coffee better be ready when I get there,” he grouched as he hung up the phone, the sound of laughter ringing in his ear.
Thirty minutes later, he keyed his way into Quatre’s suite. Looking around the elaborate set of rooms, he was glad he had opted for the more simple room. Being around so much luxury still made him nervous – which was ridiculous since he had enough more than enough money to live that way if he so desired. In all honesty, he was more than happy to live simply, allowing himself some guilty pleasures, such as the brand-new laptop he had bought the month before and the home he had bought almost a year ago, well away from the city.
Shaking off the thought, he followed the aroma of coffee to the kitchen, where he found his friend bustling around. He had every intention of watching the blonde until his eyes registered what Quatre was doing. “I thought you were friends with this guy,” he stated suddenly.
A rather girlish squeal came from Quatre, the pan he had been grasping clattering loudly to the floor. Spinning around, he glared at Trowa. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he scolded. He must have finally realized what Trowa had said because his forehead creased in confusion. “Of course he’s a friend.”
“Then you need to order room service.”
“I can cook adequately, thank you very much,” the blonde sniffed.
“Need I remind you of the last time you cooked dinner for me? I’m pretty sure the fire department still recalls the incident, if you need your memory prodded a bit.”
The pale skin turned a bright red, and then Quatre sighed heavily, “I was hoping to make breakfast for everyone. Some people prefer home cooked meals to take out.”
Assuming Quatre was talking about the man coming to eat with them, Trowa rolled his eyes in exasperation, tempered by the affection he felt for the blonde. “What did you plan to cook?”
Hope lit the blonde’s face, blue eyes shining. “I have eggs and bacon, biscuits – from a can, of course – and all the stuff needed to make pancakes.”
“That’s a lot of work, Quatre.” Trowa winced when his friends face fell, feeling like he had kicked a puppy. “I’ll need some help in order to get ready. The first thing you can do is get me a large cup of coffee like you promised.”
For the next twenty minutes, Trowa cooked the items and instructed Quatre on what to do. He was placing biscuits in the oven when a thought occurred. “This is a lot of work to go through for just a friend.”
“He’s not just a friend. He’s very…special to me.”
“A lover? Former lover?” he couldn’t help his curiosity, peaked at the wistful tone.
Quatre leaned against the counter, a small smile on his face. “Not a lover at all, ever. More like a brother.”
Trowa was getting ready to question further when there was a knock on the door. The blonde was off like a shot, leaving him alone to finish the meal. He was actually grateful for the reprieve – Quatre’s talents were numerous, but cooking was NOT one of them. Shaking his head ruefully, he flipped the last pancake out of the pan and reached into the oven for the biscuits.
He could hear Quatre chatting happily, responses being made by a low voice that was vaguely familiar. Setting the last of the food on the small table, he froze when he heard the laugh that had haunted his dreams the night before. Turning to assure himself that Quatre was not speaking to one of the most famous men on the planet, he had to stop and blink several times to convince himself that what he was seeing was actually real.
“Duo, I want to introduce you to my best friend, and my very best client,” Quatre was saying, leading the actor to the table.
Trowa stared, helpless to do anything else as the man came closer. Duo Maxwell wasn’t tall, close to Quatre’s own height, making him several inches shorter than Trowa. What he didn’t have in height, he made up for in other ways, such as the stunning smile that was directed at Trowa. In shock, he continued to stare into eyes that were a beguiling violet, eyes that looked just as stunned as he felt.
The other man shook his head a bit, making his braid fly sporadically before he reached out a hand. “I know who you are, Trowa Barton. I’m a really big fan of your work.”
Quatre appeared at Trowa’s side, kicking him slightly. In a daze, he reached out and grasped Duo’s hand with his own. “I’m a fan of your work, as well,” he stuttered, noting the calluses on the actor’s palm and wondering where they had come from.
Clearing his throat, Quatre pulled Trowa out of his stupor. Quickly, he released the man’s hand once he realized that he was still holding it. Face flushed, he stepped back, trying to think of a way to apologize for the extended contact. He was desperately hoping Quatre would do or say something to ease the tension he felt.
Another knock at the door distracted him and helped dissipate the strain. Watching the blonde go back to the door, he tried to avoid looking at the actor. When he finally got the nerve to look back at the long-haired man, he jumped a little, finding violet eyes on him again, searching his own face closely.
Seconds later, Quatre rejoined them, holding a newspaper in his hands. “Duo, should I be offering my congratulations or condolences?” he asked softly with a hint of teasing in his voice.
When Trowa was released from that intense gaze, he took a deep breath and sat at the table, his knees oddly weak. Quatre followed suit, handing the paper to the actor, who took one look at the front page and blew up.
“I’m gonna fucking kill that bitch,” he snarled, tossing the paper on the table. “I’ve not even been gone for one damn day and she pulls this stunt. I’ll have her head for this - better yet, I’ll end her career!”
Baffled, Trowa craned his neck, wilting at the headline. POWER COUPLE DUO MAXWELL AND RELENA DORLIAN ANNOUNCE ENGAGEMENT!!!
Suddenly, Trowa felt like a fool. Minutes ago, he had believed he had felt something indefinable with the actor. He had thought a spark had passed between them, had entertained ludicrous ideas, no matter how short that feeling had lasted. How stupid had he been to forget that this beautiful man already belonged to another.
Quatre leaned over, patting Trowa’s hand as if aware of his inner turmoil. He held up one finger in the classic ‘wait’ pose then turned to the man pacing the length of the suite, braid swinging around his body. “I’m assuming that you don’t plan to marry her?”
Duo stopped abruptly, eyes wide, “Quat, you know how I feel about Relena. Ugh!” He shuddered dramatically.
“Then why would she do this?” Quatre tapped a finger on the paper.
There was a roll of the violet eyes as Duo came to sit at the table. Trowa watched and listened avidly, trying to beat down the hope blossoming in his chest. He held his breath when the actor finally spoke, “Two reasons. One, for the publicity, and two, to make Heero jealous.”
“Who is Heero?” Trowa blinked in surprise as the question come out of his mouth.
“My bodyguard,” Duo’s eyes were on him again and he hoped that he wasn’t imagining the interest he saw there. “Relena’s wanted him from the first time she laid eyes on him. He could care less about her though, not his type. I don’t think he’ll ever change his mind, unless she somehow manages to get a lot less annoying and a whole lot more male.” When Trowa raised an eyebrow, Duo shrugged, “He’s gay, and not likely to change that anytime soon.”
Quatre grabbed a plate and filled it with the food that Trowa had set on the table earlier, placing it in front of the actor. The long-haired man paused, looking at the food with a wary expression and Trowa almost couldn’t stop the laugh that threatened to break out of his throat. The blonde took another plate, putting about half the food on it than he had on Duo’s. Seeing the look Duo was directing at the food, he huffed, “I didn’t make it, okay?”
“Oh, thank the heavens,” was the heartfelt declaration.
Hearing the relieved statement, Trowa stopped fighting the laughter that had been trying to bubble out. Quatre’s face turned red, and he rolled his eyes at the taller man’s mirth. “Laugh it up, Trowa. My cooking’s not that bad.”
Wiping away tears, Trowa gestured helplessly, “Have you told him about the fire department having to come to your house to save dinner?”
The actor burst out with laughter of his own, “No, but I was there when he cooked for a guy he was trying to hook as a client. The guy told him that he would let Quatre be his manager as long as he never cooked for him again. Said it was worse torture than being left in a hole to die slowly from starvation.”
Looking up, Trowa met Duo’s eyes, his laughter fading slowly as he stared into the shining violet depths. He was trapped, gazing into the eyes that penetrated to the very bottom of his soul. When Duo opened his mouth to speak, Trowa held his breath in anticipation. Whatever the actor was about to say was never to be heard, Quatre humphing rather loudly. “Like there’s nothing the two of you can’t do without being perfect at it.”
With a wince, Duo gave Trowa one last look, apologetic and longing at the same time before turning his eyes back to the pouting blonde. “I’m sure there’s something I’m not good at, I just can’t think of it right now,” he gave a strained laugh.
Concentrating on his food, Trowa listened to the two friends as they caught up with each other. He couldn’t help sneaking glances at the actor every few minutes, wondering what had just happened. It was surreal for him to be sitting here, casually eating breakfast with a man that he had assumed he would never meet. It was even more unbelievable to think about how that same man had taken a starring role in his dreams just the night before.
At the sudden silence, he looked up from his plate, finding two pairs of eyes on him, as if waiting for a response to something. “What?”
His best friend in the world gave him a knowing smirk before repeating the question. “I was telling Duo that you wanted someone to show you the darker side of New Orleans for your book. He said that he would be more than happy to do so, if you have no objections.”
“As long as you really don’t mind,” Trowa mentally slapped himself for the inane comment. Here was his chance to spend more time with the attractive actor, and he sounded like he was trying to worm his way out of it. Desperately, he searched his mind for something better to say. “I mean, it must be hard for you to go out without people recognizing you and all.”
“Around here, people more or less leave me alone. Most of the natives have known me since I was a kid, so they aren’t impressed with my job,” Duo replied with a shrug. “It would be a pleasure to show you the parts of town that aren’t in the visitor’s guide, if you want.”
Trowa looked at the man in surprise. One of the most famous and sought after actors in the world had just referred to his talent as a job. During the meal, Trowa had noticed that Duo acted just like a regular, normal person, not someone that expected his every whim to be catered to, like many famous people these days. During the course of his writing career, Trowa had had the chance to meet several actors and actresses, at parties and book signings and such. He hadn’t been impressed with any of them, finding the majority of them snooty and stuck-up, assuming that the general population would fall over themselves just for the opportunity to meet them.
Abruptly, he noticed the expectant look that was still being directed at him. Blushing because of his errant thoughts, he cleared his throat, “That would be great.” With a blink, he found himself facing two large grins, one above a pair of pleased blue eyes, the other hovering above a pair of excited violet ones. In light of that enthusiasm, he couldn’t keep his own smile in. “When do you want to go?”
Duo suddenly winced, “I really need to get some sleep first. I came straight here from Cali, and haven’t even gone home yet. I changed clothes on the plane before we took off, to be completely honest.” His handsome face scrunched up in thought for a moment before clearing again. “If you don’t have anything else to do tonight, I can give you my address and you can come over about six or so, if that’s okay.”
Turning, Trowa raised a questioning eyebrow at Quatre. The blonde shook his head, “I didn’t have anything planned that can’t be changed. This will give me a chance to make some calls and get caught up on some…things…I’ve been putting off until later.”
With a decisive nod, Trowa sent a smile back to the actor. “I seem to be all yours for the evening.”
He didn’t think he was imagining the wicked glint in the violet eyes as a sly smirk took place of the grin. “I think you may be right,” was the actor’s purred reply.
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The phone ringing in his ear pulled Trowa out of a very intense – and pleasant - dream starring a man he had never even spoke to. Cursing the invention of the phone in his mind, he fumbled for the offending device without opening his eyes. “‘Lo?”
“Good morning, Trowa! Did I wake you?”
He winced at the bubbly voice that greeted him. Even though he and Quatre had known each other for years, they had never agreed about a reasonable time to be up in the morning. While Quatre was wide awake by six, Trowa felt that it was a crime against humanity to crawl out of bed before nine – and that was with a full night of sleep, something he had not had the night before. With a grunt, he raised his head and forced his eyes open just enough to squint at the clock. “Quatre, it’s just a few minutes after eight. D’you think I was awake?” he groaned, letting his head flop back to the pillow.
“I’m really sorry for waking you, but my friend just called and is on his way. He wants to eat breakfast before he goes home.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“Trowa, I really want you to meet him,” the blonde’s voice took on a pleading tone. “He’s a really nice guy and I think the two of you could be friends if you let him have a chance.”
“You aren’t trying to set me up with this guy, are you?” Trowa was suspicious, even in his half-asleep state. It wouldn’t be the first time Quatre had set him up with someone without giving him warning.
There was a light laugh, “No. I don’t think you’re his type, or he yours, for that matter. I just wanted to introduce the two of you. Besides, he does live here. He can give you a more detailed account of the place than I can. He might even be able to tell you the best places to visit for your next book if you can give him an idea what you want.”
The suggestion helped Trowa wake up a bit more. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was an excellent idea. Quatre visited New Orleans often, but was mainly familiar with the tourist attractions. Someone that actually lived there should have more knowledge. “What time do you want me there?”
“Pretty soon, I guess. He’s supposed to be here at nine-thirty. That way you can get here before he does and can get some coffee in you,” the last was added with a chuckle.
“I’ll be there after I take a shower,” he sighed, pulling himself out of bed. “But the coffee better be ready when I get there,” he grouched as he hung up the phone, the sound of laughter ringing in his ear.
Thirty minutes later, he keyed his way into Quatre’s suite. Looking around the elaborate set of rooms, he was glad he had opted for the more simple room. Being around so much luxury still made him nervous – which was ridiculous since he had enough more than enough money to live that way if he so desired. In all honesty, he was more than happy to live simply, allowing himself some guilty pleasures, such as the brand-new laptop he had bought the month before and the home he had bought almost a year ago, well away from the city.
Shaking off the thought, he followed the aroma of coffee to the kitchen, where he found his friend bustling around. He had every intention of watching the blonde until his eyes registered what Quatre was doing. “I thought you were friends with this guy,” he stated suddenly.
A rather girlish squeal came from Quatre, the pan he had been grasping clattering loudly to the floor. Spinning around, he glared at Trowa. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he scolded. He must have finally realized what Trowa had said because his forehead creased in confusion. “Of course he’s a friend.”
“Then you need to order room service.”
“I can cook adequately, thank you very much,” the blonde sniffed.
“Need I remind you of the last time you cooked dinner for me? I’m pretty sure the fire department still recalls the incident, if you need your memory prodded a bit.”
The pale skin turned a bright red, and then Quatre sighed heavily, “I was hoping to make breakfast for everyone. Some people prefer home cooked meals to take out.”
Assuming Quatre was talking about the man coming to eat with them, Trowa rolled his eyes in exasperation, tempered by the affection he felt for the blonde. “What did you plan to cook?”
Hope lit the blonde’s face, blue eyes shining. “I have eggs and bacon, biscuits – from a can, of course – and all the stuff needed to make pancakes.”
“That’s a lot of work, Quatre.” Trowa winced when his friends face fell, feeling like he had kicked a puppy. “I’ll need some help in order to get ready. The first thing you can do is get me a large cup of coffee like you promised.”
For the next twenty minutes, Trowa cooked the items and instructed Quatre on what to do. He was placing biscuits in the oven when a thought occurred. “This is a lot of work to go through for just a friend.”
“He’s not just a friend. He’s very…special to me.”
“A lover? Former lover?” he couldn’t help his curiosity, peaked at the wistful tone.
Quatre leaned against the counter, a small smile on his face. “Not a lover at all, ever. More like a brother.”
Trowa was getting ready to question further when there was a knock on the door. The blonde was off like a shot, leaving him alone to finish the meal. He was actually grateful for the reprieve – Quatre’s talents were numerous, but cooking was NOT one of them. Shaking his head ruefully, he flipped the last pancake out of the pan and reached into the oven for the biscuits.
He could hear Quatre chatting happily, responses being made by a low voice that was vaguely familiar. Setting the last of the food on the small table, he froze when he heard the laugh that had haunted his dreams the night before. Turning to assure himself that Quatre was not speaking to one of the most famous men on the planet, he had to stop and blink several times to convince himself that what he was seeing was actually real.
“Duo, I want to introduce you to my best friend, and my very best client,” Quatre was saying, leading the actor to the table.
Trowa stared, helpless to do anything else as the man came closer. Duo Maxwell wasn’t tall, close to Quatre’s own height, making him several inches shorter than Trowa. What he didn’t have in height, he made up for in other ways, such as the stunning smile that was directed at Trowa. In shock, he continued to stare into eyes that were a beguiling violet, eyes that looked just as stunned as he felt.
The other man shook his head a bit, making his braid fly sporadically before he reached out a hand. “I know who you are, Trowa Barton. I’m a really big fan of your work.”
Quatre appeared at Trowa’s side, kicking him slightly. In a daze, he reached out and grasped Duo’s hand with his own. “I’m a fan of your work, as well,” he stuttered, noting the calluses on the actor’s palm and wondering where they had come from.
Clearing his throat, Quatre pulled Trowa out of his stupor. Quickly, he released the man’s hand once he realized that he was still holding it. Face flushed, he stepped back, trying to think of a way to apologize for the extended contact. He was desperately hoping Quatre would do or say something to ease the tension he felt.
Another knock at the door distracted him and helped dissipate the strain. Watching the blonde go back to the door, he tried to avoid looking at the actor. When he finally got the nerve to look back at the long-haired man, he jumped a little, finding violet eyes on him again, searching his own face closely.
Seconds later, Quatre rejoined them, holding a newspaper in his hands. “Duo, should I be offering my congratulations or condolences?” he asked softly with a hint of teasing in his voice.
When Trowa was released from that intense gaze, he took a deep breath and sat at the table, his knees oddly weak. Quatre followed suit, handing the paper to the actor, who took one look at the front page and blew up.
“I’m gonna fucking kill that bitch,” he snarled, tossing the paper on the table. “I’ve not even been gone for one damn day and she pulls this stunt. I’ll have her head for this - better yet, I’ll end her career!”
Baffled, Trowa craned his neck, wilting at the headline. POWER COUPLE DUO MAXWELL AND RELENA DORLIAN ANNOUNCE ENGAGEMENT!!!
Suddenly, Trowa felt like a fool. Minutes ago, he had believed he had felt something indefinable with the actor. He had thought a spark had passed between them, had entertained ludicrous ideas, no matter how short that feeling had lasted. How stupid had he been to forget that this beautiful man already belonged to another.
Quatre leaned over, patting Trowa’s hand as if aware of his inner turmoil. He held up one finger in the classic ‘wait’ pose then turned to the man pacing the length of the suite, braid swinging around his body. “I’m assuming that you don’t plan to marry her?”
Duo stopped abruptly, eyes wide, “Quat, you know how I feel about Relena. Ugh!” He shuddered dramatically.
“Then why would she do this?” Quatre tapped a finger on the paper.
There was a roll of the violet eyes as Duo came to sit at the table. Trowa watched and listened avidly, trying to beat down the hope blossoming in his chest. He held his breath when the actor finally spoke, “Two reasons. One, for the publicity, and two, to make Heero jealous.”
“Who is Heero?” Trowa blinked in surprise as the question come out of his mouth.
“My bodyguard,” Duo’s eyes were on him again and he hoped that he wasn’t imagining the interest he saw there. “Relena’s wanted him from the first time she laid eyes on him. He could care less about her though, not his type. I don’t think he’ll ever change his mind, unless she somehow manages to get a lot less annoying and a whole lot more male.” When Trowa raised an eyebrow, Duo shrugged, “He’s gay, and not likely to change that anytime soon.”
Quatre grabbed a plate and filled it with the food that Trowa had set on the table earlier, placing it in front of the actor. The long-haired man paused, looking at the food with a wary expression and Trowa almost couldn’t stop the laugh that threatened to break out of his throat. The blonde took another plate, putting about half the food on it than he had on Duo’s. Seeing the look Duo was directing at the food, he huffed, “I didn’t make it, okay?”
“Oh, thank the heavens,” was the heartfelt declaration.
Hearing the relieved statement, Trowa stopped fighting the laughter that had been trying to bubble out. Quatre’s face turned red, and he rolled his eyes at the taller man’s mirth. “Laugh it up, Trowa. My cooking’s not that bad.”
Wiping away tears, Trowa gestured helplessly, “Have you told him about the fire department having to come to your house to save dinner?”
The actor burst out with laughter of his own, “No, but I was there when he cooked for a guy he was trying to hook as a client. The guy told him that he would let Quatre be his manager as long as he never cooked for him again. Said it was worse torture than being left in a hole to die slowly from starvation.”
Looking up, Trowa met Duo’s eyes, his laughter fading slowly as he stared into the shining violet depths. He was trapped, gazing into the eyes that penetrated to the very bottom of his soul. When Duo opened his mouth to speak, Trowa held his breath in anticipation. Whatever the actor was about to say was never to be heard, Quatre humphing rather loudly. “Like there’s nothing the two of you can’t do without being perfect at it.”
With a wince, Duo gave Trowa one last look, apologetic and longing at the same time before turning his eyes back to the pouting blonde. “I’m sure there’s something I’m not good at, I just can’t think of it right now,” he gave a strained laugh.
Concentrating on his food, Trowa listened to the two friends as they caught up with each other. He couldn’t help sneaking glances at the actor every few minutes, wondering what had just happened. It was surreal for him to be sitting here, casually eating breakfast with a man that he had assumed he would never meet. It was even more unbelievable to think about how that same man had taken a starring role in his dreams just the night before.
At the sudden silence, he looked up from his plate, finding two pairs of eyes on him, as if waiting for a response to something. “What?”
His best friend in the world gave him a knowing smirk before repeating the question. “I was telling Duo that you wanted someone to show you the darker side of New Orleans for your book. He said that he would be more than happy to do so, if you have no objections.”
“As long as you really don’t mind,” Trowa mentally slapped himself for the inane comment. Here was his chance to spend more time with the attractive actor, and he sounded like he was trying to worm his way out of it. Desperately, he searched his mind for something better to say. “I mean, it must be hard for you to go out without people recognizing you and all.”
“Around here, people more or less leave me alone. Most of the natives have known me since I was a kid, so they aren’t impressed with my job,” Duo replied with a shrug. “It would be a pleasure to show you the parts of town that aren’t in the visitor’s guide, if you want.”
Trowa looked at the man in surprise. One of the most famous and sought after actors in the world had just referred to his talent as a job. During the meal, Trowa had noticed that Duo acted just like a regular, normal person, not someone that expected his every whim to be catered to, like many famous people these days. During the course of his writing career, Trowa had had the chance to meet several actors and actresses, at parties and book signings and such. He hadn’t been impressed with any of them, finding the majority of them snooty and stuck-up, assuming that the general population would fall over themselves just for the opportunity to meet them.
Abruptly, he noticed the expectant look that was still being directed at him. Blushing because of his errant thoughts, he cleared his throat, “That would be great.” With a blink, he found himself facing two large grins, one above a pair of pleased blue eyes, the other hovering above a pair of excited violet ones. In light of that enthusiasm, he couldn’t keep his own smile in. “When do you want to go?”
Duo suddenly winced, “I really need to get some sleep first. I came straight here from Cali, and haven’t even gone home yet. I changed clothes on the plane before we took off, to be completely honest.” His handsome face scrunched up in thought for a moment before clearing again. “If you don’t have anything else to do tonight, I can give you my address and you can come over about six or so, if that’s okay.”
Turning, Trowa raised a questioning eyebrow at Quatre. The blonde shook his head, “I didn’t have anything planned that can’t be changed. This will give me a chance to make some calls and get caught up on some…things…I’ve been putting off until later.”
With a decisive nod, Trowa sent a smile back to the actor. “I seem to be all yours for the evening.”
He didn’t think he was imagining the wicked glint in the violet eyes as a sly smirk took place of the grin. “I think you may be right,” was the actor’s purred reply.
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