3nanashi | L4, backdated to March/Aprilish

The Winner estate library is, unsurprisingly, both comfortable and extensive.

In about three hours, Trowa will have to head back across the colony to the park where the circus has set up its tents, so he can change and warm up in time for the evening's show. But that's three hours from now. Right now, he's settled on one of the third-floor sofas in the Winner library, reading a borrowed book while Quatre's off getting tea.

(The caffeine is mostly for Quatre, who's a workaholic even when he's not rearranging his schedule to spend afternoons with a friend, but Trowa's not objecting to it either.)

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From:

3nanashi

"You worry too much."

You'd have to know him to hear the fondness under the words.

But it's less hidden than often. If you know him, you can hear it.

Trowa reaches out -- the care is only because this is new, and deliberate as such -- and sets his hand lightly on Quatre's. "Yes."

From:

04_after

Quatre both relaxes and brightens before Trowa even moves, though it breaks into a true grin when he does.

He brushes his thumb against the side of Trowa’s knuckle, half-concious.

"Well," he says, "that's--good. To know."

From:

3nanashi

That touch is new too, but -- not unwelcome.

At all.

"Yeah," he says.

Suspecting, and being unsure what to do about it next, is not the same thing as this.

From:

04_after

Quatre's grin isn't going away anytime soon.

When he's regained the faculty of speech: "So: If you have any questions about that, or anything."

He doesn't seem to notice that the sentence didn't really go anywhere.

From:

3nanashi

"I don't think so."

He can't think of any.

Admittedly, he's a little distracted.

From:

04_after

"All right,“ Quatre smiles, "if you do—"

Well, Trowa will ask. If he does. So.

Quatre takes a half-breath, pauses an uncertain moment, and goes for it. "I have one, if that’s all right."

From:

3nanashi

Trowa's glance says, Yes?

From:

04_after

"Don't worry if you do," Quatre prefaces, "I realize it's a little--soon, but do you mind if I kiss you?"

A split-second pause, and "We probably should close the door. If you don't, I mean."

From:

3nanashi

That same split-second is a pause for Trowa too.

And then he laughs.

From:

04_after

Quatre grins immediately, and turns his right hand over so their palms are touching. He squeezes Trowa's hand slightly.

"To the door?"

He applies light pressure upward in an unspoken come with?, before letting go so that they can stand more easily.

From:

3nanashi

"Sure."

Trowa's laughter was brief, and it's over, but the amusement's still there in his eyes.

It's not far to the door.

From:

04_after

When they get there, Quatre ducks his head through the door to glance down the (empty) stairs, and closes it quietly. It doesn't have a lock, but privacy norms in the house mean they'll at least get a knock of warning.

His right forearm is leaning against the doorjamb for the moment, as he turns back to face Trowa, and smiles with a sudden, almost bemusement.

"Hi," he says, processing this change; after a moment he moves his right hand to touch Trowa's left elbow, and steps closer.

From:

3nanashi

The amusement's still there, and the warmth.

So, however quashed, is faint uncertainty. It's not that he's unwilling, in any way; it's only that Trowa's kissing experience is, well. Minimal.

Which is to say, he's dodged kisses from strangers a few times in his life. But that's it; even family kisses to the cheek or head weren't something he really got as a child.

So this is new territory.

All the same, he lets the corners of his mouth lift a little more, and brings his left hand up to lightly (and tentatively) match, and doesn't move away.

From:

04_after

Quatre smiles at him, reassuring, and reaches out with his left hand before letting it fall back to his side.

(He’s pretty sure, in the back of his mind, that Trowa’s never done this; he doesn’t want to make him feel trapped, even in slightest of ways.)

Trowa’s the closest to his height of anyone he’s ever kissed (except Olivie, before he started growing—but that was five years ago, and old enough data that he’s discarded it), so there’s a moment between when he tilts his head to the right and when he actually kisses Trowa.

It’s gentle and experimental, and his left hand comes up anyway to rest against Trowa’s shoulder.

From:

3nanashi

It's safe to say that trapped is not what Trowa feels right now.

Hesitant, yes; uncertain, yes; content and happy and excited and a muddle of other emotions, yes, in a fluttering mixture of endorphins that he can't name, and thus doesn't try. Trowa's not much given to focusing on his own emotions anyway.

But decidedly not trapped.

He tips his head a little into the kiss, and follows Quatre's lead.

(And if nothing else, Trowa is a fast learner.)

From:

04_after

Later, they're standing in much the same spot. (And have been, for awhile, quietly coexisting.)

"You know," Quatre says, quietly with a smile audible, "you never told me what you decided about Reicht."

From:

3nanashi

The amusement that sparks in Trowa's eyes would be visible if Quatre were looking. But he can probably figure it out whether he looks or no.

"I got distracted," Trowa allows, blandly.

From:

04_after

Quatre laughs slightly, right hand leaving Trowa's elbow and trailing up his arm. "Happens to the best of us," he agrees, thumb brushing Trowa's shoulder as he drops a quick kiss below his ear. He draws back enough so he can see Trowa well.

Smiling: "Would you like to finish? I'm halfway through a reread of La Vie de la Souris."

From:

3nanashi

"Sure," Trowa agrees -- willingly, and with that same background amusement, but after just a second longer than usual.

Quatre remains distracting.

From:

04_after

There's a moment, where Quatre thinks absently that was a little forward, wasn't it? and notes the observation for the future. He doesn't say anything about it, though.

"All right," he says, and steps back; his hand goes to Trowa's arm, again, but he drops it before touching him and just smiles. He turns and goes to get La Vie de la Souris from the proper bookshelf in the back.

(Everything in the library is sorted by topic and author; he's lucky it's not on another floor entirely.

If it was, he'd be reading another book.)

From:

3nanashi

Forward, while possibly accurate too, is not precisely the word Trowa would choose. (Let's stick with distracting.)

He heads back to the couch. He doesn't let himself pause -- Trowa is deliberate about his movements, now as ever -- but all the same there's a moment's renewed uncertainty. Nothing about this is unwelcome in the least, but it's a reshuffling of habits; should he sit where he was, or closer? Is this reading just as they were earlier, or some middle ground? Reading short stories about ecosystems is not the top track in his brain right now.

(He would know perfectly well what signals to give if he were playing a role, and manipulating someone else's interest. Being yourself is much more complicated.)

But he doesn't let himself pause, or dither. He settles comfortably down, not quite in the corner where he was, and opens his book.

Page 103. Right.

From:

04_after

There's a moment when Quatre's found his book when he sighs and lays his forehead against the spines of the books on the shelf.

He made an idiot of himself (more of an idiot of himself than he's made in years), but it still went better than he could have hoped, so--he's okay with that. More than okay with that, honestly. He slips the book out of the shelf, fingers tracing the spine, and goes back to the front.

When he sees Trowa's head ducked, reading, he grins despite himself and carefully schools his face down to just a pleased smile as he rounds the couch and sits closer. Not immediately in Trowa's space--Quatre tends to set himself slightly angled when he reads, and space is important for that-- but close enough so that their upper arms might graze on occasion.

He opens to Mystères.

From:

3nanashi

Trowa's attention is never wholly on what he's reading -- he always has multiple tracks of thought going at once, not to mention some level of attention on the room around him -- and he's always aware of the people nearby in any case. But right now, the story's occupying a little less of his focus than usual. And he's very aware of Quatre's presence, and how close they're sitting.

Which is not to say he isn't retaining any of it. He is.

This is . . . comfortable.

Unsurprisingly, of course. But it's nice anyway.

From:

04_after

The thing with a book you've read many times is that you do not need to throw yourself into the emotional investment of finding Gabriel's memories in the painting of Alejandro. The sentence construction and flow itself is a reassuring beat, familiar and comforting, drawing you into the story whether you will it or not.

Quatre's crossed his left leg over his right knee, right hand holding the book open. The turning involved has actually brought him closer to Trowa, but he doesn't realize until a few chapters in when he bumps his arm, startles slightly, and smiles over at him before moving slightly to a better (but not actually further away) position.

From:

3nanashi

Trowa does not startle. His eyes do slide over to Quatre, though.

He also doesn't smile, but one of the nice things about conversing with Quatre is that Trowa doesn't actually need to move his face to have the underlying sentiment understood.

He turns a page, refocusing on his book, and settles back a millimeter more into the sofa. (If this puts his shoulder a millimeter closer to Quatre, too, that's . . . probably not a coincidence.)