3nanashi | (no subject)

Shuttle rides are boring. This is a fact of life; every traveler who's ever been on an inter-colony or atmo-breaking trip knows this. But it is, perhaps, especially boring when you know exactly what this engine can do (not as much as many machines, but a lot more than this commercial pilot is asking of it) and which trajectories it could take to L4 (several, of which this is the most staid that has any speed at all). Trowa keeps himself occupied with his computer, and tries not to spend too much time mentally calculating alternative routes and contingency plans for various attacks that will never come. He doesn't expect them, but it's something to do. And it never hurts to be prepared.

When they dock, he waits through the excessively slow cross-check -- double-checks and triple-checks are how you keep your equipment in order and yourself alive, but this crew's clearly never done this under fire -- and then slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and files dutifully off the shuttle with the other passengers. Time for the Immigration And Visitor Registration paperwork. Trowa tells them the truth, nowadays, although occasionally in rather targeted wording.

All that's ahead after that is a much shorter (and, privately, less irritating) trip by ground transport to the rich district of this colony. He'll call Quatre when he's close.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

3nanashi

The food is good. Unsurprisingly.

The hostess and waitress both recognize Quatre; they're discreet about it, but it's still easily apparent if you're looking. (Trowa's always looking.) Most of the diners don't, though. And this is indeed a casual restaurant. Quatre, despite having dressed down from his usual, is one of the better-dressed people in the room.

They're not in a hurry, and the restaurant isn't terribly crowded. So it's a long meal, by Trowa's standards, but all the same it's not too late when they head back out.

From:

04_after

"Would you like to look around?" Quatre asks, politely, hands tucked lightly into his trouser pockets. (It's always a bit of a novelty for him, no matter how often he does it, wearing pants that come with pockets.)

From:

3nanashi

Trowa slants a glance at him.

It's a nice night -- as it reliably is, on a climate-controlled colony with no rain scheduled -- but he's been in this neighborhood before. It's not new to him.

(And Quatre is genuinely willing, but he's also being polite.)

"Maybe another day."

They have two weeks. There's time for rainchecks.

From:

04_after

Quatre tilts his head, and smiles brightly. It's nice to have time.

They pick up the car with a very short wait, and they're halfway back to the Winner home when Quatre reaches over with his left hand to brush his fingers gently over Trowa's wrist.

"I'm --," he breaks off, before smiling softly, glancing quickly to Trowa. "I'm glad."

From:

3nanashi

Trowa glances over when Quatre's hand shifts towards him.

He moves his own hand when Quatre's lifts away, just enough to brush his thumb lightly against Quatre's fingertips. He doesn't say anything, because he doesn't need to.

From:

04_after

Quatre relaxes slightly, and his smile warms, as he returns his gaze fully to the road and his hand to the steering wheel. (He was able to watch it through his peripheral vision, and there was no need for the second hand; still, it's wise not to take too many liberties with one's driving technique.)

It doesn't take long to arrive back home, and in the hallway, once he's left the keys on the rack for Mr. Kalns (who has retired for the evening), he glances slightly at Trowa.

There's more noise in the sunroom, now, though the door is mostly closed. Quatre maybe should make an appearance.

"Should I meet you upstairs in 20?" he offers, uncertain. He doesn't quite say it, but there is an unspoken question as to where, exactly, upstairs this will be.

From:

3nanashi

"If you want."

"I don't need to change, though."

This is to say, Trowa's willing to part ways and meet up in a bit if Quatre would rather put in his obligatory family time alone, but he doesn't mind short-term socializing.

He likes most of Quatre's family well enough. There are a few he finds particularly congenial, but none he actually dislikes.

From:

04_after

"I think," Quatre says, after a moment, "for discretion's sake, we ought to meet up later."

He knows his family's perceptiveness; he knows how hard it will be for him to not spend the whole time wishing he and Trowa were alone, if Trowa is there.

Sometimes Quatre is a coward.

From:

3nanashi

Trowa's smile is very, very faint; it's still a visible one, though.

"All right."

He can manage to kill 20 minutes on his own.

From:

04_after

Quatre smiles back, and lays the back of his fingers to the right of Trowa's sternum, opening his hand as he strokes it over the fabric to Trowa's shoulder. He lets out a quiet breath, and settles.

His smile brightens, and squeezes Trowa's shoulder lightly, amiably; "I'll give them your regrets," he says, false-solemnly. "See you soon."

He tucks his hands back into his pockets, tilts his head at Trowa, and heads into the sunroom, closing the door behind him.

From:

3nanashi

Trowa doesn't bother to voice any amusement or agreement, though both are there; Quatre knows.

He does, however, head for the upstairs elevator when the door has closed. He'll take the time to unpack as much as he's going to, and then check his email and suchlike.

Quatre is usually prompt, but the influence of nieces and nephews means it might be a bit more than 20 minutes.

From:

04_after

He's a bit behind schedule; after disengaging himself from the now-huge puzzle the kids were working on, he spent a couple of minutes talking to Cheche.

He hums as he walks up the stairs; straightening his shirt because it wrinkled as he was bent over the puzzle on the floor.

He ducks his head into the third floor of the library, uncertain as to if Trowa will be there or still in his room. He smiles, spotting Trowa on the couch.

"Hey," he says, as he walks in.

From:

3nanashi

Trowa looks up from his laptop in greeting.

It looks very nearly the same as all his other expressions; it's affectionate, all the same.

"Anything eventful?"

He can pretty much guess the answer from Quatre's mood and bearing, but sometimes Quatre likes to ramble or be amused at his family anyway.

From:

04_after

"Mm," Quatre says, thoughtfully, raising his right hand so that his fingers are curled right below his bottom lip in thought; the gesture is slightly overdone. "I am, I believe, passing along an invitation to a tea party tomorrow. It's supposed to be very elegant, according to Nada."

From:

3nanashi

If Trowa were a normal person, he would make an appropriately solemn face in response.

Because he's Trowa, he looks . . . well . . . like Trowa always does.

But he's amused!

"I'm sure she's a good hostess."

She's a Winner. They learn these things young and thoroughly.

From:

04_after

"I'll pass along your regards," Quatre's smile pulls at the side of his mouth.

"Are you busy?" he asks, politely, leaning against the wall by the side of his door. Trowa could be doing something important!

Quatre can easily unlock his door from here.

From:

3nanashi

Trowa doesn't laugh.

But the brief flare of amusement is (very faintly) visible anyway.

"No," he says, and closes his laptop to stand.

A couple of steps carry him around the coffee table and towards Quatre. (And closer into Quatre's personal space than he strictly needs to be. Call it a signal.)

From:

04_after

Quatre smiles as he straightens, unlocking the door with his left hand.

"Good," he says quietly, tilting his head towards Trowa with a slight smirk, before stepping back into the suite.

From:

3nanashi

Trowa's eyes warm with amusement, just slightly.

He follows Quatre in. He sets his closed laptop tidily on the entryway table; there's plenty of room, since it's the sort of decoratively placed table that contains a pen-holder and not much else.

From:

04_after

The door shuts. Quatre puts his right hand to Trowa's side once he's set down the laptop, and narrows the space between them significantly.

He nuzzles Trowa's neck, slightly, smiling though Trowa can't see it. "Where do you want to be?"

From:

3nanashi

Trowa, because he is massively unhelpful sometimes, shrugs slightly.

Since he's also ducking his head slightly to kiss Quatre's jaw, and splaying light hands on Quatre's hips, this isn't quite as useless an answer as it could be.

(They're going to be occupied for a while.)

From:

04_after

Later, they're standing with their backs to the kitchen counter, finally having the coffee Quatre'd offered earlier. It's decaf, in deference to Trowa's preferences.

They're quiet, but Quatre's leaning against his boyfriend lightly, right hand at his back.

From:

3nanashi

Trowa has a sip of coffee -- unsurprisingly, it's good -- and continues to completely fail to object in any way to Quatre's leaning.

It's comfortable.

(His free hand rests on Quatre's back. That's comfortable too.)

From:

04_after

Quatre's eyes have drifted closed, as he slowly drinks his coffee and stands there with him.

Trowa's warm. Quatre completely unbiasedly approves.

From:

3nanashi

Yep. 37 degrees centigrade, give or take.

Trowa has some more coffee. Mmm, coffee. (Mmm, contented cuddling boyfriend.)

Trowa's mind is pretty much always multitasking, so partly he's thinking about what he might do tomorrow, and partly he's thinking about his approach to Qasim University, and partly he's mulling over the state of world politics and public sentiment, and how the lions are doing with Jimmy Walsh, and so forth. But for a significant part of his attention -- well.

It's nice sometimes to have nowhere else you need to be.